Black Conley

by Shari Dare

Raised on a ranch run by whores Black Conley has come full circle. As a US Marshall he's been sent to find out who is rustling steers from Belle Barton otherwise known as Ball Buster Belle. As soon as he meets the beautiful blonde boss, he knows he doesn't want any of the other girls in his bed.

Belle has returned to Montana to run her father's ranch only to find out no man will work for her. Instead she's turned to the local whores and although they ply their trade at night, during the day they work hard for the Double Bar B. Not wanting a man in her bed, she offers Black the choice of her 'girls' but forbids him access to her bed.


Chapter One


Laramie, Wyoming 1886


Black pumped against the whore he’d bought for the night. The act represented nothing but self-pleasure and release. He’d put his emotions aside years ago. There was no place in his life for such things.

This woman was no more to him than any of the others he’d had over the past fifteen years, but he didn’t care. She was warm, she was somewhat pretty, and she allowed him to vent his anger and satisfy his longings.

“Deeper, Baby, deeper,” she crooned.

Unlike things he’d heard about whores only pretending, he rarely left a woman wanting in that department. “Are you certain?” he said, as he withdrew his cock from her cunt.

“Positive,” came the whispered reply.

He repositioned himself and turned her onto her belly, then instructed her to get on her knees.

“You ain’t gonna fuck me in the ass are you?” the girl said.

“Hardly. You said you wanted it deeper. Well, this is as deep as I can get.” He shoved his cock in from the backside of her cunt and buried it all the way to his balls.

The girl screamed in delight. To add to the enjoyment, he grabbed one of her tits and played with it while he pistoned against her.

“More, more,” she demanded.

Black was more than willing to accommodate her and slowed his actions to prolong the hard-on he wanted to satisfy. When at last they both came, he was careful not to collapse on top of her. Instead, he rolled off, and turned her over to face him. While he lay there, spent and

 exhausted, he played with her clit until she again moaned with pleasure. A long time ago, he’d learned women could go all night, while men had to recuperate before they could again take a woman.

It didn’t take long for her to come again and mix her velvety juice with that which he had deposited only minutes earlier. Convinced he had, indeed, satisfied her, he pulled himself into a sitting position and lit a cigarette. Beside him, the girl continued to kiss his chest while she played with his balls. He knew it wouldn’t take much of this type of attention to make him ready to take her again by the time he finished his smoke. He liked to get the most for his money, and this girl was more than ready to give it to him.

He crushed out his cigarette and started sucking one of her tits in preparation to shove his cock into her cunt when a knock at the door interrupted him.

Cursing a blue streak, Black disentangled himself, grabbed his gun, and went to the door. It was evident the young boy who stood there with an envelope in his hand was embarrassed.

“I … I have a telegram for you, Mr. Conley,” he stammered, looking alternately between Black’s gun and his cock that stood out as stiff as a poker.

“Well, give it to me,” Black ordered, before going to get his pants so he could give the boy some money. By the time he returned, the boy had focused his attention on the whore in Black’s bed.

“Cover yourself,” he growled, as he pulled a coin from the pocket of his pants.

Once the boy left, Black slammed the door.

“Come back to bed, Sweetie,” the girl crooned. “Whatever is in that wire can wait until we finish our business.”

“Like hell it can,” Black retorted, ripping open the envelope.

What the hell was the big rush in getting this to him? He silently scanned the contents of the wire. Why wreck a perfectly good fuck just to give him his next assignment?

The only answer he could think of was that the telegraph office hadn’t gotten it to him when it first arrived. He’d have a talk with the telegraph operator when he went across the street to send the return wire.

Rather than going back to the whore, Black threw some money on the bed before he got dressed. Although the girl pretended to pout, he knew she was counting his money while anticipating getting another man to pay her tonight. If she was smarter than she looked, she would give the bartender only his usual pay while keeping the rest for herself.

“I guess this means you’re done with me,” she said, as she pulled on the dress she’d discarded earlier.

The deeply cut neckline made him wish he didn’t have to leave her. Of course, he knew he couldn’t stay after reading the contents of the wire. Work always came before pleasure in his book. With this wire coming from Denver, he had no choice other than to read it and find out where he went next.

Once she left, he read the wire from his boss, Ed Heath, more thoroughly. His assignment would take him to Larson’s Gap in Montana and a ranch called the Double Bar B. According to Ed’s wire, the woman who ran it, Belle Barton, was in trouble. She’d been losing cattle and couldn’t get the sheriff to help her find the rustlers. It would be Black’s job to find those responsible and put them under arrest. Ed doubted the local sheriff would be any help, but he said it was worth a try.

After sending a return wire to Denver, Black packed his gear in his saddlebags, tied his bedroll to the back of his horse, and prepared to leave Laramie behind. A glance inside the saloon revealed the girl he’d bedded earlier was already attaching herself to a cowpoke with more money than brains. At least he was the first one to have her tonight. If she was like most of the women in these places, he doubted she cleaned herself up between customers. There was nothing worse than fucking a woman who was full of some other man’s cum.

As he rode Buck, his Appaloosa gelding, out of Laramie, he thought about his life. In the past, he’d done everything he could to make a living. He’d started as a gunslinger and somehow ended up as a lawman. Since he’d become a U.S. Marshal he’d found a job that was to his liking. The life of a gunslinger was iffy, and he really didn’t enjoy killing people, but it was what he did best. With the title of U.S. Marshal, he did the job that he’d done when he’d killed his first man.

His mind turned to the memory of Mike Slade. If ever a man needed to die, it was Slade. He’d killed Black’s mother by beating her to death with her own bullwhip, and for what? He’d done it to gain title to the Circle C, the ranch his father built for his family in East Texas.

Black had only been three when someone killed his father. It wasn’t until after Slade lay dead in the street that he found out the man had killed his father as well as his mother to get the ranch adjoining his. At the time, Black called it revenge, but now he knew he’d only saved the county the cost of a hanging.

He remembered how hard it had been for his mother. She’d ended up running the place with the help of several whores who were ranch hands by day and whores by night. With the proof he carried in his saddlebags, he regained title to the Circle C. From there he went to the bank telling them sell it to the first man with enough money to satisfy them. He knew Slade was well respected in town and getting anyone to work for him would be difficult. He didn’t want the ranch, but didn’t want Slade to have it. He’d been only fourteen at the time and the life of a gunslinger seemed more to his liking than herding a bunch of dumb cows. He trusted the banker and knew the man would keep the money safe for him.

Even though he hadn’t done any ranching in over fifteen years, a job on one of the ranches would give him the perfect cover to investigate the rustling. Ranching was hard work, but it wouldn’t hurt him to ride herd on a bunch of cattle in Montana for a while. At least he’d get to eat three square meals a day and be able to sleep somewhere other than outside. That was better than where most of his assignments took him. With winter coming, it sounded damn good.

He didn’t need to work, but the situation demanded he blend in with the locals, and what better way to do that than to work as a cowhand. Besides, spending the winter in a hotel room with nothing to do was as far from his liking as was sleeping outdoors. It would do little but draw attention to his presence. Working with the locals usually raised a whole lot less suspicion about why he was in this small town rather than where his gun could make him a hell of a lot more money.

When he arrived at Larson’s Gap, the town looked about as lively as a Sunday school picnic. Outside the saloon, two horses waited for their owners to return. At least he didn’t have to guess where the saloon was. He could get a drink without having to make any explanations about who he was.

Inside, he stepped up to the bar. “Whiskey.”

The bartender looked up. “Don’t serve Injuns. It’s best if you get your ass out of here.”

Black pulled his gun and pointed it at the man. “Look, you son-of-a-bitch, I’m no Injun.”

“You got black hair and your dark skinned. You’re an Injun all right.”

“My ma was Mexican, and my pa was white. That makes me pure Texican. Push me too far and you’ll find out why they say there ain’t nothin’ meaner than a Texican when you rile him. Trust me, mister, anyone who takes me for an Injun riles me no end.”

“Yes sir, Mr.…”

“The name’s Conley.”

The man began to shake as he poured the whiskey. “I shoulda known from the way you drew that gun of yours. Is it true you killed thirty men?”

“Probably. I don’t keep count, especially since every one of them lost their lives in a fair fight.”

“How can it be a fair fight when that gun of yours comes out of the holster like a rattler when he’s ready to strike?” the man at the far end of the bar said.

“When a man is drawn on he has to defend himself. That’s all I intend to say on the subject. I don’t lead that life anymore. I was hoping to find out if there are any ranches in the area hiring for the winter.”

The man laughed. “Just the Double Bar B, but no one wants to work up there.”

Black hid his pleasure at hearing the name of the ranch where he was supposed to look for work as part of his assignment. “Why not?”

“Because word is that the Double B in the name of that ranch stands for the way that bitch can bust a man’s balls.”


“Her name is Isabelle Barton. She took over the ranch after her old man died and left it to her. She spent most of her life in the East, and what she doesn’t know about ranching could fill a book. She calls herself Belle, but that hardly fits her. I just call her ball buster. I worked for her for about a week. As much as I wanted to get in her pants, one of her tongue-lashings was enough for me. I lit out the next day.

“I hear tell she’s got a bunch of women up there trying to run the ranch. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous? What in the hell do women know about ranching? The only thing they’re good for is fucking, if you get my drift.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Black said and downed his whiskey. “Which way is it to the Double Bar B?”

“You ain’t serious. Why would you want to work for that bitch?”

“Why not? I’ve always liked a challenge. This sounds like one I want to tackle.”

“You’ll be sorry. I’ll be here waiting for you when you decide you’ve had enough of her high and mighty ways.”

“Thanks again. I hope you don’t hold your breath waiting for me.”

Black left the Purple Moon Saloon and mounted Buck. The Double Bar B was the ranch he sought and would be the perfect place for him to spend the winter. If Belle Barton was anything like his ma, it could be an interesting relationship.

As he rode, his thoughts turned to the way his mother ran the Circle C once his father died. Slade hired away most of the hands that worked for his pa. In their place, she brought in whores and allowed them to ply their trade at night, as long as they worked the ranch during the day. It had been a good relationship, and his mother made a good living, not only from the cattle she was able to sell to the trail herds but also from the money the women brought in at night. With the split being fifty-fifty, they all prospered. If it hadn’t been for Slade, Black would have grown up to run the ranch. Instead, he’d been driven off the land.

It took a year for him to return to get vengeance. So much had happened that day, he didn’t even like to think about it. Not only had he killed his first man, but he proved the Circle C had been taken from him unlawfully. It probably would have been for the best if he’d stayed on to run the place. Unfortunately, he’d tasted blood and wanted to use his guns more than his hands. After selling the ranch to the highest bidder, he left East Texas forever.

Now he’d come full circle. If he could persuade Belle to allow him to work on the Double Bar B, he’d once again be working with women who were ranch hands by day and whores by night.

* * * *

Belle Barton looked out her front window. This was her empire. She’d come here ten years ago to be with her father only to have him die months after her arrival. Everything she knew about ranching she’d learned from her father’s journals, her own trial and error, and her father’s former foreman, Roy Heath. Within six months of her father’s passing, she’d lost most of her hands. Those that came to work for her later usually tried to see how far they could push her and soon learned Belle wasn’t about to be pushed. She’d grown tough. Over the years she’d earned the name of Ball Buster Belle and wore it proudly.

The idea of bringing other young women to the ranch had been pure genius. The way the people in town treated the whores who found their way to her door was deplorable. As far as anyone knew, the women worked for Belle and that was it. Of course, there was more to it than that. With the stage line agreeing to allow her to run a way station from her home, she was able to provide the drivers and male passengers enjoyable companionship for the evening as well as a good meal and a soft bed. Her women were told they couldn’t bed down with the neighboring ranch hands, but the stage line didn’t disapprove of them plying their trade to the passengers as long as they didn’t offend any females who were traveling.

To accommodate the passengers, the stage line agreed to help finance an addition to the house. She’d insisted the passengers should be able to spend the night in a place that resembled a hotel. Most of the places where she’d stayed on her journey from Ohio to be with her father were shacks.

Just last fall she’d lost Amy, one of her best women both in the saddle and in the bedroom, to a guest who returned and asked her to marry him. It had been a beautiful wedding. He’d even brought a preacher all the way from Denver because he knew that pompous ass who presided over the church in town wouldn’t want any part of the ceremony.

Her mind turned from the women to Clayte Adamson from the Diamond A. He’d been begging her to let him buy her out since the day her father died, leaving her with clear title to the Double Bar B. In the past few year, he’d become more adamant, especially when she landed the contract for the way station.

A month ago she’d gone to the funeral for his wife, Nettie. Clayte told everyone Nettie had taken a bad fall down the stairs and hit her head. By the time he got to her she was dead.

Even though Belle knew that was the official cause of death she also knew the underlying reason they were putting Nettie in the ground. Clayte worked his wife to death. In the nine years they were married, she’d given birth to seven children and was pregnant with the eighth when she died. That much childbearing coupled with the work Clayte expected her to do was enough to make any woman throw herself down the stairs to get away from it all.

Two weeks after the funeral, Clayte was at her door. “I’ve come up with a solution to our problem,” he began when she set a piece of pie and a cup of coffee in front of him.

“I didn’t know we had a problem,” Belle said, as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Of course we do. You’re running this spread alone, and I have a passel of younguns that need a ma. If we were to combine forces so to say, I could take over the running of your ranch, and you could take care of my kids and me.”

The memory of Clayte’s words still grated on Belle’s nerves. As soon as he’d spoken them she’d grabbed the coffee pot and dumped its contents over his head. He’d yowled in pain and vowed she’d regret her actions.

Since then several steers from her herd went missing. One or two here and there until the total was over thirty. She knew Clayte was behind it, but couldn’t prove it. What she needed was a man and not in the way everyone would think. She needed someone who was good with a gun and just sneaky enough to catch Clayte in the act. Her problem was where she would find such a man. Looking through the paper, that came ever week from Denver, she got an idea. She’d advertise for a hired gun. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it. She had enough money to pay for several such men, but for now, one would be enough to satisfy her.

From the parlor she heard the stage driver as well as his two passengers sweet talking Janna, Lacy, and Cara. The women would make good money tonight meaning that in the morning Belle’s share would be added to the money she used for running the ranch. If business for the women remained this brisk, Janna would have enough money to move on to California soon. Belle hated to lose her, but that was part of the business. Janna wanted to open her own house in San Francisco, and Belle couldn’t blame her. With winter coming, things here would slow down, and, by spring, there would be a new girl knocking on the door wanting a job.

“There’s a lone rider comin’ in,” Kate said, as she returned to the kitchen after checking the stock.

Belle nodded. “Don’t know who it could be, but be ready just in case you don’t get the night off after all.”

“It’s not like I couldn’t use the money, Belle, you know that, but I sure do hope he ain’t wantin’ a roll. I’m dog-tired.”

“You go on up to bed then. If he’s from town, I’ll try to steer him away. I just heard Janna go up as well as Lacy. With luck Cara will join them, and I won’t have to do any explaining about why the women are entertaining men in the parlor.”

The words no more than passed her lips than she heard Cara’s light step on the stairs followed closely by those of a man’s heavy boots.

Outside, the sound of a horse’s hooves signaled the arrival of the stranger. Rather than wait for him to come to the door, Belle grabbed her shawl and shotgun before going out to the porch to greet her visitor, giving Kate time enough to get upstairs.

“Something I can help you with, Mister?” she said, once the door closed behind her and she pointed her gun directly at his chest.

“Heard you were lookin’ for ranch hands for the winter,” the man replied, as he carefully dismounted, holding his hands in the air.

She assessed him as he walked the short distance that separated them. He was dressed in black and wore a pair of six-shooters on his hips. They were hung low, as though he needed them at just the right height for a fast draw. Once he mounted the steps of the porch, he put his hand on the barrel of the shotgun, pushing it harmlessly down toward the board floor.

“Seein’ that gun pointed at my heart makes me a mite uneasy. What do you say we talk about that job I heard about?”

His manner and the fact he disarmed her so easily made her want to raise the gun and fire, but his strong hand holding it down stopped her. “If you heard that, you also heard that they call me Ball Buster Belle. I didn’t get that name without working for it.”

“So I heard. Now if you’ll just put down that shotgun maybe we can talk about the fact you need a hand more than I need a hole in my chest.”

“You seem to have me at a bit of a disadvantage, but don’t think for one minute that I won’t shoot you if you give me any cause or I just feel like it. I expect a hard day’s work and pay top wages, but I don’t take none to being pushed by any man.”

She watched as he took off his hat to reveal a mane of black hair that fell to just below his shoulders. “Heard all about you in town. I doubt you’d be able to scare me off quite as easily as you could some of the others. The name’s Black, Black Conley, and I’m lookin’ for a job for the winter. Won’t fool you none, I plan to move on come spring, but I still need a place to bed down, three meals a day, and a job to do. I think I know all about your operation. You see my ma ran a ranch like this in Texas. She made damn good money from the cattle and as much from the women who worked for her, if you get my drift.”

“I get your drift. Are you any good with that gun?”

He laughed heartily. “I would have thought that once I told you my name you would have figured out who I was. It worked for them fellers in town. Had the bartender shaking so hard he could hardly pour me a glass of whiskey.”

She nodded. Black Conley wasn’t exactly what she’d expected him to be, but she knew about him all right. From the stories she’d heard, he’d killed over thirty men and all of them in fair fights. She’d thought he would be older and more hardened, yet his brown eyes told her it was possible a little boy still rested behind them. He didn’t use the offensive language most men used when they came here looking for a job. To be truthful, he sounded like an educated man. So why was he here, on her doorstep offering to work as a ranch hand? For that matter, why was he here in the middle of nowhere when his guns could make him more money in one of the bigger frontier towns? In thinking about it, she knew if he was as good with his guns as the papers said, he was exactly what she was looking for.

“I do know who you are, Mr. Conley. Come on in, I can’t offer you whiskey, since I don’t allow it in the house, but I can get you a cup of coffee, while I heat you up some of the stew we had for supper. It looks like you could use a good meal.”

He agreed and followed her into the house. Once inside, she would get a better look at him. The long black hair framed a dark skinned face, with brown eyes that any woman could easily drown in. His background could be anything from Mexican to Comanche, considering he said he came from Texas.

“If you take this job, my rules are simple. Like I said, I allow no whiskey at this ranch. If you want to drink, do it on your own time and do it at the Purple Moon in town. If you come home so drunk you cause a disturbance, you’re fired. Do your work during the day, and, at night if the women aren’t otherwise occupied, you can take a poke at them, but not for free. They’re working women and what they do at night brings money into the coffers of this ranch. Another thing, I pay a good wage, and I expect loyalty in return. What goes on here stays here.”

“Fair enough. My ma’s rules were pretty much the same. ‘Course she didn’t have too many men who would come to the ranch for anything other than the women. How much do your women get for a night? I came here to work, but nighttime entertainment might not be such a bad thing.”

“Depends on the customer. The stage driver gets his for two bucks a roll while the passengers pay four. As for you, I would imagine we could work out an arrangement where you could get yours for let’s say a buck and a half.”

“It sounds fair to me. A good roll never done anyone any harm, just so long as it doesn’t get in the way of what a man has to do during the day. I saw you eyeing my guns before. Any reason why you’re so interested in them?”

She ladled the stew into a bowl for him before replying. “Guess there is. I was thinking of putting out an ad for a hired gun. I’ve been having a lot of trouble with rustlers. Of course, I’m certain I know who’s behind it, but I need proof. I need someone who is willing to find out just what’s going on and use his guns if necessary. I’m losing the cattle on the range that borders the Diamond A. Clayte Adamson wants this ranch, and he wants me. If he’s the one stealing the cattle, it would certainly answer a bunch of questions.”

“I take it you don’t want him.”

“That’s right, I don’t. Him and my pa had some harebrained idea about the two of us getting married and putting the ranches together. I set my pa straight the first week I was here. Clayte was harder to convince.

“About a month ago he lost his wife, and he was sniffin’ around two weeks later. He had the nerve to suggest we get married to combine the ranches and give his seven brats a mother. That’s about the same time I started losing cattle. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, and I came up with four and not some other number.”

Black’s smile was unnerving. “I take it you told him what he could do with his offer and did so in no uncertain terms.”

“You bet I did. He’s probably still nursing the burns from the coffee I dumped over his head.”

“Like I said, I need a job for the winter, and I came here to work. You can depend on me doing good work for you. Just don’t get in my way while I’m doing it. If I ain’t mistaken, you need my guns more than you do my skills at ranchin’. I’ll make certain you get both. I can live by your rules, Ma’am, and I can take care of that little problem. I won’t kill the bastard, but I can make him wish he’d never messed with you or the Double Bar B. Just point me to the bunkhouse, and I’ll stow my gear as soon as I take care of my horse.”

“We haven’t used the bunkhouse in years. This place has six bedrooms and I usually only have four to five women working for me at any given time. Right now there’s only four, so I have an empty bedroom. As soon as you get your horse stabled, come back up to the house and I’ll get you settled.”

He nodded and left the warmth of the kitchen. As she watched him go, she couldn’t miss his tight ass and the broadness of his shoulders. The two of those things made her wonder what he would be like in bed. Where did that thought come from? She must be losing her mind. The last thing she needed was a man in her bed. Ten years ago she promised herself never to be taken in by a sweet talking man. She refused to go back on her promise.

Belle’s mind drifted to the years she spent in the East with her Aunt Mable. She’d been only five years old when her mother died. Her father knew he couldn’t run a ranch and take care of child at the same time, so he wired his wife’s sister to come out and get Belle. In Aunt Mable’s home, she’d received the love and attention she deserved as well as a good education.

She’d been sixteen when Preacher Martinson’s son, Ronald, came sniffin’ around her aunt’s door. Ronald had been handsome and, when their meetings turned sexual, he assured her there was nothing wrong because they were in love and as soon as her aunt agreed they’d be married. He’d known the right way to make love to a woman, and she’d been ripe for the picking. In the months they experimented with sex, she’d been transformed from girl to woman. When she told him she was carrying his child, he denied it could be his.

As soon as news of her condition became public knowledge, Preacher Martinson and the good women of the town branded her a whore. It was then that her aunt sent her to a convent not far from their home. There, she’d abided by the strict rules of the nuns and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who was taken from her within hours of the birth. She prayed her child had been given to a loving home.

Once she left Ohio, she came back to the Double Bar B and her father, vowing never to let another man touch her in that way again. She’d kept her vow and wasn’t even tempted by the sweet talking men from the East who wanted her more than they did the other women. So why did Black make her drawers wet when he took her hand to shake it?

Just the thought of him sleeping down the hall from her was enough to make her change her mind and reopen the bunkhouse. Of course, she knew she wouldn’t do that to him. The bedroom wasn’t being used, so why heat another building all winter. She’d just have to make certain the man kept his distance from her and occupied himself with the other women.

Once she told Black where his room would be and watched him walk toward the barn, she went upstairs to tell Kate about the new man. “That stranger who just rode in is here for a job. He’s a gunslinger. Can’t say I’m upset about him coming here. I gave him the room across from yours. You being forewoman here, I thought you should know.”

“A gunslinger, you say? What’s his name?”

“He calls himself Black Conley. I’ve heard of him. Seems he’s killed over thirty men and all in fair fights, if you can believe what they write in the papers.”

“Black Conley,” Kate replied, the name rolling off her tongue as though she was contemplating it. “I’ve heard of him. His ma ran an operation like this in East Texas. I should know. One of the women I worked with in Nevada worked there for a while. He might be interesting company for tonight.”

“Thought you were dog tired.”

“Things change, especially when Black Conley comes calling. I’m sure you gave him a deal on being with each of us. I think tonight will be on the house though. You know sort of a welcome to the Double Bar B.”

Belle nodded. “All I ask is you keep him busy. I don’t want him getting any crazy ideas about me, if you get your drift.”

“I get it, Belle, but somehow I think this one has you interested. You really should try it. If you don’t, you won’t ever know what you’re missing,” Kate teased. “I’m certain you’d like it a lot better when you’re getting paid for it.”

“I like it a lot better when I’m the one taking the money and handling it for you. I don’t want any part of the other, thank you.”

* * * *

After learning where he would be bunking, Black left the ranch house with a smile a mile wide on his face. He didn’t care about the other women. The one he wanted was the boss. She was just about the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time. Her long white-blond hair was styled into the latest fashion, and her green eyes were ones any man could die and not mind once he’d seen them. It was no wonder her neighbor wanted her in his bed. Any man would have to be a fool not to want to call Belle Barton his own.

He’d just have to bide his time. The stories he heard in town could prove wrong. Just looking at her, he could tell she wasn’t some tight virgin who didn’t know the pleasure of being with a man. Somewhere along the line someone had done her wrong, and she wasn’t about to fall into any man’s arms. That was all right by him. She said there were four whores working for her and trying each of them could probe to be an interesting pastime for the long winter nights ahead of him. Sooner or later he’d melt the ice that Belle had around her heart and, when he did, he was certain she’s prove to be a more interesting companion than any of her whores. If he’d stayed in her kitchen any longer the bulge in the front of his pants would have given her a clue as to his intentions toward her.

Once his horse was stabled he realized his hard-on wasn’t about to go away any time soon without getting some relief. A quick hand job behind the barn would take care of it until the lovely Miss Belle could be persuaded to let him into her bed. He prayed it wouldn’t take him long to get into her pants, since he didn’t relish jacking off any more than he did sticking his cock into the other women. They’d give him relief, but it wouldn’t be the one he wanted and therefore not the same. He didn’t give himself to a woman unless she was special and Belle was damned special in his book. Paid companions were all right for a night or two, but a woman like Belle was what he wanted for a lifetime and at twenty-nine, he decided that lifetime should be a hell of a lot longer than it would be if he continued working as a U.S. Marshal.

He shook his head in disbelief at his thoughts. He had no right to think about happily ever after with a woman. In his line of work he was much better off sticking with whores. They expected no more than what he paid them to give him. He knew he still wanted Belle, but on his terms, not hers. She would grace his bed and it would be because she wanted to not because she was paid. Once he satisfied his curiosity about her, he’d be free to go on to the next assignment when this one was finished.

Maybe it would have been different if she hadn’t been wearing those tight fitting pants and the shirt that was open far enough for him to get a good look at her breasts. She was a fine woman, a fine woman indeed, and by the end of the winter she would be his woman.

After getting the relief he craved, Black made his way back up to the house. He’d grabbed his gear and was more than ready to spend the night in a real bed. It would be a novel experience, since he’d been sleeping under the stars for the most of the summer as well as the trip from Laramie to Larson’s Gap. Why should he waste money on a hotel room or even one at a boarding house when he had the open range as his bedroom? Of course, such sleeping conditions didn’t allow him the pleasure of a woman. When the need arose, which was often, he’d hightail it to the nearest town and visit the whores who plied their trade above the saloon.

Belle sat in the kitchen sipping her coffee when he returned.

“I waited up for you. I wanted to make certain you got your horse stabled. Morning starts early around here, and I wanted to let you know you’d be riding with the forewoman, Kate.”

“Much obliged, Ma’am,” he replied, aware of her staring at the front of his pants. Had she noticed the bulge that he’d gotten rid of behind the barn? If so, was she sorry to see it gone? Was she thinking about slipping into bed with him tonight? If that were her plan, he’d be more than willing to accommodate her.

She didn’t say anything that would give answers to his questions. Instead, she led him to the staircase in the parlor and up to the second floor. “I’m going to bed for the night as well, so we might as well go up together. Once I do, I’ll be turning out the lights. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

As they walked down the door-lined hallway, he expected to hear couples enjoying an evening of sexual delights. To his surprise, the silence was almost deafening.

He thought about what it would be like listening to the love sounds coming from behind the closed doors and transporting him back to when he’d been a young boy. Then, he’d been on the outside listening without being able do more than wonder what such delights would be like. Even though he knew what the women did behind those doors, he still wished he could watch. Hell, he’d wanted to participate, especially with Salina.

She was a feisty little Mexican gal who got kicked out of her Pa’s house for fucking one of his vaqueros. She’d made her way to Texas and his mother’s place. There, she’d plied her trade and made damn good money while doing it. Just thinking about her, made him swell for the second time tonight. She was to have been his present on his thirteenth birthday. Instead he’d found his mother beaten to death and instantly become a man without ever having a woman.

Instead of a night of pleasure in Salina’s bed, he had taken the women to Mexico and his grandfather’s ranchero. His mother’s death had made him well aware of the danger that surrounded the Circle C where the women were concerned. Like his mother, he knew that these women, and their safety were his responsibility.

Once in Mexico, he had not been allowed to be with Salina. She’d left to go back north to the life she enjoyed shortly after their arrival. Instead, he had lost his virginity to a beautiful girl on the same night she lost hers. Neither of them had the experience to show the other the pleasure of sex. For that he was sorry. For the experience, he could never feel sorrow.

“Looks like you could use a little relief,” Belle said, as she glanced down at the crotch of his pants.

His thoughts of the past dissolved as he looked toward her. “Guess I could at that.” He reached out to grab her hand, but she backed away.

“Kate is waiting for you in your room. Earlier she said she was dog-tired, but when she heard Black Conley was here, she perked right up. This one’s on the house, sort of a welcome-to-the-family present, you might say.”

Black concealed his disappointment the best he could. “Thanks, Belle, I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

“You bet you will. We start here with breakfast at six, and we hit the saddle by seven. Hope you’re up to it. It doesn’t matter what goes on at night, during the day I expect my hands to be up and ready to ride as soon as I am.”

Black turned from the woman who was to be his boss afraid he wouldn’t be able to hide his disappointment. As soon as he entered the room, he saw a scantily clad woman lying on the bed.

“You must be Kate.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mr. Conley, I’ll give you a good roll.”

Her voice carried the hint of a Spanish accent and on closer inspection he saw she was a dark complexioned as he. For a moment, it was as though Salina was in his bed waiting to give him his thirteenth birthday present.

“Is there a problem with me being here? I’d hate to think you didn’t want me after all I’ve heard about you.”

“Where would you have heard about me?” he said, as he took off his gun belt and made his way to the bed.

“About ten years back I worked with an old whore in Nevada. It was my first job, and I was green as grass. Salina took me under her wing and said she was repaying a favor to the first woman she ever worked for. When I asked her about it, she told me that she worked for your ma and even though you were a kid, she wished she’d been able to give you a good roll for your thirteenth birthday. Of course, we both know why she couldn’t. I’m pleased to see you’ve turned into a man. I’m anxious to see if you’re half as good as they say you are.”

“What else did your Salina say about me?”

“Ah, so I’ve piqued your curiosity. She said that you were a good kid, but every now and then you needed to be spanked. Do you still like to be spanked?”

Her question caught him off guard. Without waiting for him to answer, she got up from the bed and came over to start undressing him.

Expertly, she took off his shirt and unbuttoned his long johns. As she ran her hand over the matt of black hair on his chest, his thoughts of home and Salina disappeared. This woman was well trained, but of course she’d had the best teacher available. He hardly realized when she slipped the top of his long johns down around his waist.

Once his chest was exposed, she began kissing his nipples and then sucking on them with occasional love bites. Even though he knew what was coming next it surprised him when she unbuttoned his pants and reached inside the flap of his long johns to grab his cock.

“Ah, this is one of the best cocks I’ve had in a long time. I think I’d like to play with it for a while before I allow it to enter me.”

As though she had a calf by a rope, she led him to the bed by holding him firmly in her grip. Once there, she pushed him down to a sitting position.

“Take off your pants,” she ordered. “How do you expect me to give you a good fuck when you’re fully clothed?”

“I … I didn’t…”

“Of course you did. You just thought it would be Belle in your bed. Well, you can get that damn fool notion out of your head here and now. You can enjoy the rest of us, but Belle is off limits. Now, let me help you with your boots so we can get down to business.”

Black thought about the kind of business Kate was referring to and decided it was better than going to bed alone with a hard-on.

She pulled off his boots while he took off his gun belt and slid his pants and long johns down around his ankles. She did the rest of the work for him. Once he was completely naked, she pushed him down on the bed and told him to spread his legs for her.

He felt like a damn fool lying spread eagle on the bed with his cock sticking up like the lodge poles he’d seen in the Indian villages he’d visited over the years. There he’d found that a little kindness got him many young women who were more than willing to share his bed for the night.

To his amazement, Kate crawled up onto the bed with him and took his cock in her mouth so she could suckle it like she was a baby taking nourishment from her mother. In all of his life, he’d never had a woman do something like this to him. While she sucked him, she played with his balls until he could contain himself no longer. With a force unlike any he’d experienced in a long time, he came into her mouth. To his surprise, she swallowed his cum and teased him until he was again erect.

“Did you like that?” She licked her lips as though she was afraid she’d lose even one drop of his cum.

“Like it? Hell yes I liked it. It’s a shame you can’t bottle that sensation and sell it in one of those medicine shows. I bet you could make a million dollars in less than a year. Where did you learn to do something like that?”

“Salina said that when she moved on from your ma’s ranch, the next place she worked told her it was mandatory. At first she didn’t like it, but once she learned how to do it correctly, she found it to be very stimulating, both for her and her partner. She taught me how to do it when I first arrived at her place. If you enjoyed this, wait until the next time we’re together and I suck your balls. Of course, for that you will have to pay. Now that you’re satisfied, I need you to do the same for me.”

She lay down beside him and pulled him on top of her. After what he’d just been through he wondered if he would be able to perform, but once he slipped his cock into her cunt, he knew there would be no problems in that department. While he pumped against her, he grabbed her breasts and manipulated her nipples into hard pebbles. She moaned in pleasure, and he knew he was the one responsible for it. Whores had a way of moaning even if they weren’t feeling anything, but it wasn’t anything like this.

He’d just leaned over to take one of her nipples into his mouth when she slapped him squarely on the ass. He jerked his head up and looked at her. To his surprise, that slap had made him even harder inside her.

“What did you just do to me?”

“I gave you a spanking, you naughty boy. As a little kid it hurts like hell, but as a man it only heightens the pleasure. All of this is only a prelude of what’s to come if you want me in your bed again.”

“What happens if I spank you?”

“Maybe someday we’ll find out. For now, this works for me.”

The more she spanked him the harder he pumped against her until they finally both came at almost the same time. He rolled off of her and pulled her into an embrace. He’d learned, a long time ago, that women, even whores, liked to be cuddled after being fucked.

“You were good, Black, really good,” Kate said. “You’ll be even better once you get that damn fool notion out of your head that it’s Belle you want in this bed. There are four of us here, and we all like our men in different ways.

“Little Cara takes it any way a man wants to give it to her, but if she had her choice, she’d be tied up to the bedposts and fucked until dawn. Lacy has a cute little whip. She uses it on the men and lets them use it on her. She says it’s more fun than regular sex. That brings us to Janna. She’s into feathers and the like. What that girl can do with a feather is downright indecent. Of course, they all do it the way the customer requests, but every once in a while, the guy says they can do what they want.

“It’s then that we make the big money. I heard tell one man paid Lacy twenty dollars just because she used that little whip of hers. As for me, my specialty is sucking a man’s cock and balls ‘till he cries for mercy. I never make less than ten dollars a night since the men appreciate what I can do for them.”

“I can see why. I certainly did.”

“You’ll get to enjoy each of us and believe me, you’ll get your buck-fifty worth, especially if you let the women do what they do best.”

“I don’t know about the whipping part. Is it anything like that spanking you gave me?”

“They say it’s more intense. Someday I might try it for myself, but never on a permanent basis. I don’t like pain that well. A good spanking is one thing, but a whipping is something else.”

Black kissed her long and hard and fell asleep with her in his arms.
"Black Conley" by Shari Dare


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