“Honey,” Travis said, “time to wake up.” She smelled bacon. Oh, Lord, she smelled bacon. Her eyes opened, and she saw Travis crouching by a breakfast fire. She smiled and murmured, “Can’t say I thought your plans would start so sweet.”
While she washed the pan and the tin plates in the creek, Travis started setting something up, on the bank nearby, where the smooth stones made a flat surface, secluded from view from the trail by the riverside willows. On top of a fallen tree trunk, he put branches he’d broken off from the trees. Maggie watched curiously, unable to figure out what he was doing.
“Alright, honey,” he said when she’d finished. “You did a very foolish thing, tryin’ to shoot those men as they were runnin’ away. I know you’re a crack shot with your rifle, but it’s time you learned your way around a revolver.” He handed her the Remington that had been Gary Becker’s—the same one she had fired in Kansas City.
“But Travis,” she said. “I thought…”
“Every time you miss a shot, Maggie,” he said with a smile, “you’re gonna lose a piece of clothing. When you’ve lost all your clothes—your hat, both boots, your shirt, and your britches—you’re gonna go over that tree trunk yourself, for a whuppin’.”
“Oh,” said Maggie, trying hard not to giggle.
“Then, if you’ve put all the effort into this lesson that I’m hopin’ you will, we’re gonna make both our wishes come true, over on the blankets. Understand?”
Maggie nodded. “Just one thing,” she said, because she couldn’t help it.
“Next time, we do it with rifles, and you lose your clothes.”
Travis grinned. “Maybe we’ll both lose ‘em.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He put his arm around her waist and looked down into her eyes. “Might take a while. Wouldn’t your pa say that was a waste of ammunition?”
“Well, I reckon we could start without our clothes on, maybe. Then as soon as someone misses a shot we could just go to the blanket.”
Travis laughed, “Winner’s on top.”
He smiled, this time with as much mischief as Maggie had ever seen in a smile. “Oh, you’ll see, honey. No more stalling.”
Travis whirled and drew his Colt, cocking it as he brought it up out of the holster. The shot seemed to ring out before Maggie thought the gun could be in his hand. The trunk was fifty feet away, but Travis’ bullet sent one of the branches flying off it, spinning crazily backwards.
Maggie felt her jaw hanging open. Travis turned back to her. “Your turn,” he said, still grinning.
“Do I have to shoot from my hip?”
“Naw,” Travis said. “You’re gonna have enough trouble just holdin’ it in both hands.”
Now Maggie felt herself getting mad. “Oh, yeah? You seen what I can do with a Winchester, mister, didn’t you?”
“Saw, Maggie. You saw. Or you’ve seen.”
She could tell he was trying to get her riled up so that she wouldn’t shoot straight, and that made her even madder. She turned sideways, sighted along the revolver at one of the biggest branches, cocked and fired.
“What?” she said in disbelief. She had missed. She had probably missed by a mile.
“There goes your hat,” said Travis matter-of-factly. “The kick’s completely different when you don’t have your shoulder to take it, through the rifle stock.”
Maggie cocked and fired again.
“Right boot,” said Travis. “That one was closer. Try it with both hands.”
“I won’t, dammit.” She fired.
“Left boot. Stop and take ‘em off, honey.”
Maggie glared at him. Then she handed him the revolver. Still glaring, she took off her hat and tossed it to the side. She stooped and took off her right, and then her left boot. Travis was unbuckling his gun belt as she removed the boots. To her surprise, he put it around her waist. She blushed as he buckled it in front, thinking about the way he had touched her through the fabric of her britches on the train, but he did nothing of the kind now.
“We need to get you used to drawing, too. I want you to draw, put both hands on the handle, and set your feet the way you would if you were firing your Winchester. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Maggie said, because she did truly feel humbled at having missed three times. It had been many years she’d missed twice in a row with her rifle.
“Just practice drawing for now, alright?”
So Maggie drew. It was a lot harder than it looked. She drew ten times, and then twenty, and then, finally, she had it. It was just teaching your hand how to move.
“Alright,” Travis said. “Now show me how you’re going to set your feet. Don’t fire, just draw and set for me.”
So she did that, and it only took three tries before Travis said, “Alright—fire next time.”
The branch exploded, and Maggie gave a yell of triumph.
“There you go, honey,” he said. He handed her a box of bullets, and let her reload as he went to set up more branches.
After that, Maggie hit six out of six shots, with two hands on the gun, and Travis hit six of six standing in profile.
“You’re gettin’ the hang of it, honey,” he said.
“I coulda hit Mason,” she said bitterly, “if I’d practiced.”
“We’ll get him,” Travis said. “Let’s try one-handed.”
Maggie drew, and missed.
“There go your britches,” Travis said, chuckling, firing from the hip and hitting a branch as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
She tried again.
“And your shirt.”
Not knowing how she could possibly feel ashamed to be without her pants in front of him now, Maggie nevertheless turned away to unbuckle the gun belt so that she could take off the rest of her clothes.
“Put the gun belt back on, when the rest of you is bare. You’re gonna lose it last.”
Something in the way he spoke made Maggie smile, but also sent a lightning bolt of heat to her pussy. Won’t be long now, something inside her said.
She turned back to him, now wearing only his own gun belt. The look she saw in his eyes made her smile even wider, and then despite her frustration at her lack of skill, she giggled.
“Maggie Curtin, I can’t rightly say why, but the sight of you in nothin’ but my gun belt is the most beautiful thing I ever saw.”
“Are you hard, Travis?” she asked softly.
“Very, very hard, honey. Hard for you.”
“Are you gonna fuck me, Travis Quill?” From bashful to brazen, in a moment, but it felt so right. “Are you gonna be the first man who ever fucked me?”
A strange, hard look came into Travis’ eyes, but it didn’t take away the tenderness that remained in his voice as he pulled her close, put his hand possessively on her naked bottom, and kissed her. Then he said very softly, “I am gonna fuck you so good and hard that you never forget this shootin’ lesson, Maggie. Now hurry up and miss your next shot so I can give you the whuppin’ you got comin’.”
Maggie laughed, stepped away, and hit three branches in a row. Travis’ smile was broader each time she looked over at him. Through his eyes, she saw the naked farm girl on the river bank, earning her right to learn all those things about pleasing a man that she’d always wanted to know.
* * *
Maggie missed the fourth shot. Travis couldn’t believe how aroused it had gotten him, this silly little plan to teach her something about shooting a revolver and to teach her about fucking, and to whip her, all in one. She looked simply magnificent, with her auburn hair loose to her shoulders and her little breasts heaving just a bit with her breath and with the motion of drawing the Remington from the gun belt that covered her pussy—but in such a way that Travis could see almost everything he wanted to see, not to mention how pretty her little round bottom looked under the broad leather of the belt.
“Give me the revolver, honey,” he said, “and get yourself over the tree trunk. Leave the belt on.”
He took off his pants belt and followed her over to the trunk, carrying the revolvers and laying them down safely nearby. He wished he could give her a proper tanning—the kind that would leave marks and make it hard for her to sit down—but they had a long ways to go that day.
Maggie went over the tree trunk so sweetly and obediently, though, that he instantly repented of the desire to whip her hard. He didn’t think he would ever get over the satisfaction, on the other hand, of bringing his belt down on her little bottom and making the sweet ovals of her firm cheeks dance. He took hold of the gun belt and started to whip her.
Just like the very first time, in her barn, she made no sound but little defiant grunts in her chest.
“Why am I whipping you, Maggie?” he asked, pausing after having given her five on each cheek.
“To remind me not to take stupid risks, and to make me remember to shoot straight.”
“That’s right, honey. Do you think you can remember those things?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
Travis struck five more times, in the middle of her pale backside. Then he couldn’t help himself, and he took his left hand off the gun belt, and started to stroke her there, thinking about how he would soon have his cock inside her sweet pussy. Her bottom-cheeks felt warm from the whipping.
Maggie’s little sounds became whimpers of longing, and how could he be so cruel as to resist them? He dropped the belt, and he put his right hand there, right in the center, where her bottom met her thighs in the sweetest little crease he’d ever seen.
“Oh, Lord, Travis… Oh, please…”
Travis worked his fingers deeper there, finding the little cleft where the warmth of the whipping became a wet heat. He could smell her need for him, and it made him feel such desire for her, and such a need to have her as his own that he had to unbutton his own pants with his left hand and drop them, even as he kept rubbing her pussy with his right, listening to her tiny cries of pleasure.
“It’s time for you to see something, honey,” he said. “Get up and turn around and kneel down in front of me.”
Maggie obeyed, kneeling on the soft dirt of the river bank. Travis held his cock on the fingers of his left hand, just showing it to her.
Maggie smiled, a little nervously. “What should I do?” she whispered.
“Take it in your hands, very gently,” Travis replied. “Someday soon you’ll take it in your mouth, too, but for your first time, just touch it.”
Maggie nodded, looking up into his eyes, and then she cast her eyes down to his cock. Travis couldn’t believe how it aroused him to instruct her like this, and to have her obey him. She reached out with her hands, hesitated, and then at last touched him there.
“Nice and easy,” he said, breathing harder at the sight of the pretty, naked girl touching his cock.
“The skin’s so soft,” Maggie said wonderingly. “Can I kiss it?”
Travis laughed. “Oh, yes.”
She leaned her head forward, less hesitantly than she had reached out her hands and planted a kiss on the head. Travis gave a groan of pleasure at the sight and at the feeling and Maggie leaned back with a wicked smile on her face, looking up again.
“If I took it in my mouth, would you make that sound again?”
Travis nodded, hardly believing she meant it, but then she opened her mouth and treated him to the terribly distracting sight of his innocent girl taking his cock into her mouth. He did groan, much more deeply at the wonderful feeling, as she suckled at him. He couldn’t resist putting his hands gently in her hair and teaching her, just a bit, how a man likes best to enjoy a girl’s mouth.
Maggie gagged a little, and Travis, feeling a little guilty, pulled his cock out from between her lips. “Am I a good girl?” she murmured.
“So good,” he said. “Go to the blankets now, and lie on your back, with your legs spread.” Her lips compressed into a tight, apprehensive line, and she got up and turned to do as he had said. He followed her, loving the sight of her cute bottom with the few little red lines from her whipping quickly fading.
Maggie knelt on the blanket, then lay down on her side, and finally turned onto her back, looking up at Travis. He stood watching: he didn’t think he could ever get enough of watching Maggie Curtin naked except for the gun belt.
“Take off the gun belt,” he whispered, though, and she did.
He took off his shirt, and got down on his knees between her thighs. “It’s gonna hurt, at first,” he warned. “I’m going to get you as ready as I can though, before I put my cock there.”
Maggie nodded, her face resolute. With his fingers then, he stroked her furry little cleft, loving the feeling of the soft red hair, and then he used his lips and tongue until Maggie screamed and came, shuddering and lifting her pussy up into his still licking tongue.
Then at last Travis took his cock in his right hand, and put it there, where she was now soaking from her own plentiful wetness and Travis’ kisses. Propped on his strong left arm, he worked the head of his raging hardness up and down, and gradually inward until he felt that he had come up against the barrier of her maidenhead.
“Are you ready, honey?” he whispered.
“So ready. I love you, Travis,” she whispered back.
“I love you, too, Maggie,” he replied, and then he shifted his weight onto both his arms, and thrust powerfully with his hips.
Maggie seemed impervious to pain, he thought sometimes. She closed her eyes, and he saw little tears glistening there, but she gave only another of her grunts that almost sounded as much like satisfaction as it did like pain.
The pleasure of her pussy around his cock was so intense that although he had intended to go slowly with her, he found that all he could do was keep fucking. And Maggie’s body responded almost instantly, twining around his, yielding deliciously, finally moaning with pleasure, up into his mouth as he kissed her.
Maggie’s eyes opened, wearing an expression of wonder. “Travis…” she whispered. “Oh, Lord, Travis… harder, please… please…”
And Travis obeyed, pounding his hips into her, making her raise her knees until he could fuck her as hard as he had ever fucked a girl before.
Suddenly Maggie screamed; it was like the climaxes he had brought her to before, but ten times, a hundred times bigger. That made Travis spend inside her, with a tremendous shout of pleasure, holding himself as deep as he could inside her deliciously contracting pussy. He hadn’t intended to do that, but when he told her he was sorry, and Maggie whispered, “It’s alright. We’d make a wonderful baby, wouldn’t we?” he could only smile and kiss her.
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