Cheaters in the West

"Of course we'll probably lose a couple of men in the fracas," I began.

"But all of you will die, every single one of ya," finished Jack in that way that twins have of completing each other's sentences.

"If you insist on being so unwelcoming, we'll take out business elsewhere then," said the cowboy. He turned his horse and rode back the way he'd come taking all of his men with him.

After that Jack and his men moved into town, they were staying at the hotel and the boarding house. I can't say that there weren't any incidents, but when there were things were handled fairly and they spent their nights in jail and paid their fines like everyone did. Things went fine until a few months after the birth of my son.

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Constance Dansen's Diary March 14.

Dear diary, I must admit I'm still having the problem. Ever since the 6th month of the pregnancy I've felt like a bitch in heat. Often I'd attack Sam as soon as he came through the door. I don't know what has come over me. It is now a month since I've given birth to John Jack, whom we named for both his grandfather and his uncle. I can hardly wait for Sam to get home tonight so we can start on the next one. I can hardly believe how much my plans for my life have changed since I met Sam. Where I once dreamed of being a teacher or a business woman, all I want now is to be a wife and mother. I especially like the mother part, and especially the action that gets me to become a mother. I must admit that my waist may have gained an inch or two, and my breasts don't seem to sit as high as they did before the baby but Sam doesn't seem to mind, and no one else in town seems to have noticed. All of the men still watch my every movement every time I go to town.

April 3. Dear Diary, The problem seems to have gotten worse. Sam and I start up as soon as I get the baby to sleep. Last night he did me nearly all night, stopping only for a few minutes of sleep here and there. This morning he went off to work, still tired from his exertions. I feel bad about that because in his line of work, he needs to have all of his wits about him. Being a step slow could possibly be fatal. I also feel bad because God help me it just wasn't enough. Lately I have an itch in my nether regions, that just constantly needs to be scratched. In some ways I blame Sam for this because I was a God fearing virgin until he took my virtue and started all of this.

April 9. God help me what have I done. Jack came by the house looking for Sam this morning and I let him see me in just my shift. I thought his eyes would bug out of his head, and there was considerable swelling in his pants too. I found myself just smiling at him which might as well have been an invitation. He started walking towards me, and I was ready for him. But then he shook his head and told me to get control of myself, and stop acting like a whore. As much as I love Sam, I shudder to think of what might have happened if it had been any man other than his brother.

May 2. My life is over. For the past week I've been unfaithful to my husband. It started out innocently enough. A stranger came to the ranch as I was taking a bath. A tall rough looking man, who obviously liked what he saw. I hated him on sight but my itch wouldn't take no for an answer. He was looking for Jack. I don't know why. There's always someone looking for Jack. Half of them want a chance to take him down in a gunfight, either to get revenge for someone he hurt or killed, or to make their own reputation by being the one who killed him. The rest want to join his gang. I didn't know whether this man was a fighter or a joiner, but I invited him in. I wish to God I hadn't but I did and there's no going back.

He's not a good looking man like Sam, or Jack. He's also a little on the chunky side. But the worst part of all is that he really doesn't know how to handle his equipment nearly as well as my Sam does. He spent the better part of an hour mauling my breasts and slapping my ass while he humped me. I didn't get anywhere close to a single climax. I could have done better to spend the afternoon rubbing myself. He was so inept in the bedroom that I don't think I'd have ever considered trying another man other than Sam. Unfortunately that wasn't to be. The worst part about it was that when Sam came home that night all ready to fuck my brains out. I had to pretend to be sore from the night before, I couldn't let him see the bruises on my ass. The next day the man, Cletus, came back, as soon as Sam rode off for town. I told him that Jack wasn't there but he came in anyway. He wanted more of what he'd had the day before. I told him no, but he just smiled at me and asked me whether or not I wanted Sam to find out that I had given him some pussy. I never heard that term pussy before, but whatever he called it, I didn't want Sam to find out. So I made him promise not to bruise me up, and gave him what he wanted. The next day he came back again, but he wasn't alone. He brought another man with him, and they both had me. For a woman who only a week ago craved making love, I was beginning to hate the thought of doing it at all.

Within a few days Cletus had a pattern down, he'd show up as soon as Sam left and bring sometimes as many as three or four men with him. I didn't find out until much later that he was charging them to have their way with me. I didn't see any way out of my dilemma, but fate stepped in to give me a reprieve.

Cletus ran into Jack in town one morning and there was a gunfight. Jack I've heard isn't nearly as accurate with a gun as Sam is, but he's faster than greased lightning. He was aiming to put a bullet right between that asshole's eyes but he missed by a bit and still managed to blow the side of his face clean off. Luckily for me Cletus died within a few hours.

I swore I'd never cheat on Sam again as long as I lived. But within a week, the itch was back though I fought it as hard and as diligently as I could. My bad luck continued when I went to the general store to pick up a few things and happened upon one of the men that Cletus had been bringing to the ranch. Now that he knew who I was, other than Cletus' whore, he was ready to reacquaint himself with me. About that time both Sam's and my lives took a turn for the worse. Mine did because now almost daily there'd be men at the ranch, and unlike with Cletus some of them didn't want to leave when it was time for Sam to come home. It seemed that word was spreading all over town about a woman who would do things that even the whores refused to try, and she did them for free.

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Atherton stopped reading the diaries when we all heard the chirping from the intercom on his desk. Both Samantha and I stretched and looked at each other. We'd both been so caught up in the story that we had lost track of time and where we were.

"Ms. Peyton from the auction house is here," said the acidic voice of Atherton's secretary from the intercom.

"Please show her in," replied Atherton. He sat up and straightened his tie and checked for wrinkles on his shirt. In only a few moments I saw why. Miss Peyton was tall and slim with flowing blonde hair. She had a beautiful smile and used it often. She could easily be mistaken for one of the Playboy models that every man dreams of. Atherton behaved like a fucking puppy around her. I kept expecting to see him get down on the floor and stand on his knees with his hands held like a dog begging for a treat and his tongue out. Then of course she'd have to pat his head and say, "good boy." Atherton would probably roll over then so she could pat his stomach. I had a couple of places she could pat on me as well, but I wasn't going to be rolling around on the floor to get her to do it.

Samantha cleared her throat loudly, and glared. Her beautiful eyes narrowed dangerously but I couldn't tell if they were directed at Atherton or at me.

"Oh do forgive me," said Atherton. "I'd like to introduce Ms. Diana Peyton from the Waterhouse Western Memorabilia Auctions company. She's interested in listing both of your items in an upcoming auction. She's very sure that we...I mean you, can make substantially more money if we list both Miss Chavaria's diaries and Mr. Dansen's' guns together as a set. We can also market the items by having a showing and display on her website to drum up interest in the items. Miss Peyton, as it happens is also a direct relation of Constance Farmwell."

Miss Peyton smiled very slightly at Samantha, and then turned the full spotlight on me. As she smiled at me, for some reason despite how beautiful she was, I was reminded of a really big fucking snake. I also noticed two things, the first was that she had to have more than thirty two teeth to have a smile that fucking wide, and the second was how much she looked like my ex wife.

"It's getting kind of late, I'd love to take you to dinner and we could outline my proposal while we eat ," she said, looking directly at me. "Of course I meant all of us," she said to Samantha.

We all got into Ms. Peyton's big BMW sedan. It was so big and so plush inside the car that it felt like I was sitting in someone's fucking living room. The ride was so smooth that I couldn't feel the road under me. Surprisingly I was uncomfortable, I was so used to being able to feel the road and much faster acceleration. This thing seemed to float along like a fucking blimp. I also didn't really like the seating arrangements. Ms. Peyton had opened the door and herded Samantha and Atherton in the back seat together and then closed the door. I wondered why, when there was room back there for me too. I was stuck sitting in the front seat with her. She tried one of those cheesy teenager's moves on me halfway through the trip. She was slick about it. She put her hand on the gear shift lever, even though it was an automatic. Then she dropped her hand off the shifter and onto mine. She smiled at me as she did this. What the hell was she playing at? I pulled a cheesy move of my own. I smiled back at her, and then pretended I was yawning and used the hand she was trying to hold to cover my mouth.

She pulled the same shit at the restaurant. Somehow Atherton ended up sitting next to Samantha and I ended up next to Ms. Peyton. To make matters worse I was sitting directly across from Atherton, who was glaring at me like I was cock-blocking him. Samantha didn't seem to be very happy either. Actually the only person smiling was Ms. Peyton. She seemed to be smiling like a shark, or like a lioness who had separated her chosen prey from the herd.

During dinner she outlined her plan. She'd start advertising the pieces and marketing them, so there'd be plenty of interest in them when the auction opened. She'd have pictures taken so they could be viewed on the internet, and write a piece about them for all of the Military and Western newsletters.

With all of that publicity we were sure to attract lots of bidders, who could afford to pay a very good price for the pieces, and we'd all make a lot of money. Ms. Peyton was also rubbing her leg against mine under the table pretty hard. I was trying to move away from her, but there's only so far you can move without looking stupid. My dick was beginning to tell me to go for it. Samantha dropped her fork and reached for it and looked at what was going on under the table. When she sat back up she glared at me, but Ms. Peyton simply smiled at her and made no attempt to stop what she was doing. She had balls I had to give her that.

My cell-phone rang shattering the mood before any more foolishness could take place. I looked at the screen and saw Carla's face on it.

"What," I said sharply.

"You didn't call me back," whined Carla. "I need...she began as I hung up on her. That was all I needed to give me the motivation to pull my leg away from Ms. Peyton like she was covered in shit. I looked around for a distraction and noticed that a small four man combo was playing soft music on the other side of the room. "I need to go to the little boys room," I said. Atherton grimaced at the term, Samantha smiled, and Ms. Peyton looked as if me being away would hurt her. She moved out to let me out of the booth and ran her hands across my ass as I passed. Now I know what women go through. It felt like I was a horse she was interested in buying and she was checking out my muscle tone to see what kind of shape I was in.

During my quick visit to the facilities I got a chance to calm my dick down, and become presentable again. I tried to figure out the dynamics of what the hell was going on. Ms. Peyton obviously wanted my pieces for her auction house. She seemed to want to see if another one of my pieces would be a good fit inside of her. Atherton seemed to want to make money off of me, and he also wanted Ms. Peyton. I was sensing a spurned lover vibe from him. The only one of the payers whose motivation I couldn't figure out was Samantha. What was her interest in this whole thing? I needed to figure out what her game was too.

When I got back to the table, I had an idea. "Wow, I feel like dancing," I said. Before Ms. Peyton could get up I extended my hand to Samantha.

"I'm not much of a dancer," she said quietly.

"I love to dance," said Ms. Peyton getting up quickly and trying to insert herself in the situation. I hated bitches like that, she was probably a champion ballroom dancer in her spare time.

"You do?" I said smiling my own evil smile. "Atherton, dance with Ms. Peyton."

Atherton got up so fast, I expected to see a rocket sticking out of his ass. He grabbed Ms. Peyton's hand and dragged her over to the small dance floor.

I took Samantha's hand and led her the other way. There was a small deck behind the restaurant and you could see the moon shining very brightly on everything.

"So why aren't you having a good time?" I asked her.

"Well, that bitch seems to be trying very hard to exclude me from everything," she said. "I think she doesn't think that the diaries are very important. She also doesn't like my plan very much. She just wants to make a shitload of money, and move on to her next conquest."

"So what is your plan?" I asked again. "I haven't heard anything from you yet."

"Well I wanted to wait until after you'd heard the entire story from the diaries, so you'd know everything our families did, and then you could think about what I was going to say. That way you'd know all of the facts about everything and you could make an informed decision. I don't want you to go off half cocked and do something that you'll regret later."

I thought about what she was saying carefully. She seemed to be the only person of the three, that wasn't trying to push her agenda on me. Was it because she really thought that what I wanted mattered, or because her way was less attractive than the other two options.

"Would you like to dance anyway?" I asked. It was certainly romantic out here on the deck alone, and you could just barely hear the music, but the view and the moonlight surely more than made up for the lack of volume.

She smiled at me and nodded her head. I wrapped on arm around her gently and took her hand. The look in her eyes found me wondering whether or not I could fall into them. there was clearly something going on between us but I didn't understand it. "Now I know how she felt," she told me.

"She, who?" I answered puzzled by her words.

"You'll know all of it soon enough," she said, laying her head on my shoulder and somehow it just felt right. I pulled her closer in to me molding our bodies together in a far more intimate embrace. I couldn't help staring into those deep brown eyes and thinking I'd love to wake up to her for the rest of my life.

"So, are you married, or seeing anyone?" I asked her, knowing how cheesy it sounded.

"Of course not," she said leaving me puzzled again. "I'm what guys call a practice girl."

"What's a practice girl?" I asked. This woman had a knack for confusing the shit out of me.

"Guys try all of their lines and moves on someone like me, and then they marry someone like Ms. Peyton. I'm pretty enough that they don't have to be embarrassed to be seen with me, but they're really thinking that since I'm a little heavier, that I'm going to put out on demand, because they gave me a little bit of attention," she said. "Once they find out that they're going to have to do some work to get into my pants, they move on, so I'm not married, and I date, but there's no one serious in the picture."

"Are you accepting applications?" I asked, and she smiled. We seemed to be pulling closer together like magnets. I could already practically feel those soft lips, and I wondered what she'd taste like. But wondering was all I got to do.

"Hey, no talking business without the rest of the class," said Ms. Peyton sharply. "We were wondering where the hell you two disappeared to. Stevie says you guys are going to meet back at his office tomorrow to finish going through the diaries and then we can make the final decision and sign the papers. I'll drive you back to his office," then she looked directly at me and said, "Or anywhere else you'd like to go." Samantha didn't miss that either.

When we got back to Atherton's building Ms. Peyton drove straight into the parking lot.

"You can let me out right there next to the dark blue car," said Samantha. Ms. Peyton stopped in front of the blue car and my heart stopped as Samantha got out. I jumped out too, and walked around the car.

"Oh my God it's beautiful," I said. Walking around further. "It's a girl."

"So am I," said Samantha.

"09 Mustang, midnight blue, pony package, optional 18" chrome Bullitt rims," I said whistling. Samantha was smiling as I gushed over her car.

"Hey what about my Beemer?," asked Ms. Peyton. "If you're into cars, you can drive it."

"What do you mean my car is a girl?" asked Samantha as if we hadn't heard Ms. Peyton at all.

"It's a v6. Less horsepower, that makes it a girl. She's still a pony, just a filly as opposed to a stallion," I said smiling at her.

"How'd you know it's an 09?" she asked.

"Ooh, too easy," I started. "Your car is clearly an S197 model. Those are the generation of cars from 2005 until now, with the retro styling. There are 2 series of cars in this generation. Cars from 2005 until 2009 have the perpendicular headlight frames on the front fascia, with the exception of the Shelby GT 500. The cars from 2010 and 2011 have angled headlight frames and that shitty looking trim piece along the underside of the car. They also have the angled rear fascia which I kind of hate. Your car is from the 2005 through 2009 like mine. You also have the anniversary badge on the front quarter panel, which means it's an 09."

"You only have one exhaust pipe and no GT badges so it's a v6," I said proudly. "The 2011 models have dual exhausts for the v6's too so it's getting harder to tell."

"What about my Beemer, don't you like it too," whined Ms. Peyton. "It has a smooth ride and it cost a lot of money."

"So do sex changes, but I don't want one of those either," I snapped. "Honestly, I'm sure it's fine for people who like them, but I just don't like Euro-trash Sedans. If I were in the market for an old guy's car I'd probably get that new Lincoln MKZ." Ms. Peyton slumped her shoulders, she was clearly upset that we weren't blown away by her sedan. But sharks supposedly have to keep swimming or they drown, so she just stayed in there punching.

"Can you come to my hotel room, I have some display ideas for your guns," she asked just before Samantha pulled away. From the look in Samantha's eyes through the car window I could tell she'd heard the request. Unfortunately she couldn't hear my reply as she drove off.

The next morning Atherton's secretary who'd obviously been practicing smiling ushered me right into the office. Her smile was still kind of odd, but it was more like she had a mouth full of sour patch kids candy. I remember those things from when I was young. They're so bitter that you make just the expression she had on her face when you put one in your mouth.