Chapter 18: Tibbs confronts the newspaperwoman

Tibbs watched two flies fuck by a wet ring on the table next to his bottle of Jack Daniels as he scarfed down beef stew with dumplings. Outside the rain hadn't let up. If anything it had increased. He stuffed his cheeks with chunks of beef and dumplings, chewing vigorously; brown gravy trickling from the corner of his mouth. Occasionally he washed it all down with a slug of whiskey.

Raymond sat behind the bar reading an old edition of the Lantern and smoking a thin cigar. Elena was singing something softly in Spanish behind the antepuerta amid the faint noise of metal pots and pans being washed.

When he was finished, Tibbs leaned back, belched and loosened his belt a notch. He wasn't wearing his cartridge belt and holster. Instead, at the jail, before coming to the saloon, he had discarded them and stuck a slip gun in his hip pocket.

He smoked a cigarette and after awhile got up, scrapping his chair back noisily.

"Put it on account, Stubs," he said, with a harsh laugh, pulling on his slicker. He picked up a broom leaning against the bar and plucked out a stem of heath for a toothpick.

Outside the rain plinked the muddy street. Wind blew a cool mist against his face, forming dew on his thick mustache. Fog concealed the desert beyond the limits of town, and ghost-like drifted through the alleyways. Low, gray clouds hid the sky. It was as if the world no longer existed except for Red Rock. He glanced up the street toward The Lantern and, hunched over, began walking that way . . . .

When Green woke, Abigail was gone. He slipped on his freshly cleaned buckskin pants, blue cotton shirt and boots, strapped on his pistols and headed for The Lantern. He no longer had his serape, so he stepped quickly to keep from getting soaked.

He was thinking that the newspaperwoman wasn't bad looking. Maybe after he'd given her his eye-witness account of the dead Indian hanging from the tree he would invite her for a drink at Raymond's cantina.

The plainly furnished office was empty as he entered. To his left was a Washington hand press and type case, an ink barrel and a stack of stock paper piled on top of a wide desk. In a low book case were textbooks and on top piles of religious tracts. To his right was a pot-bellied stove and a straight-backed chair.

Suddenly, from the second floor, he heard a jarring thud and another in what sounded like a struggle. Drawing a .44 he went back out and up a stairway fixed to the side of the building. At the top landing, he found the door slightly ajar. Rain had soaked his clothes by now, but he was unmindful; all his attention was concentrated on what might be waiting inside.

He pushed the door open. Tibbs was holding a pistol to Faye Morgan's head.

"Well, lookee here. If it ain't Mr. Green," Tibbs chortled pulling the hammer of the slip pistol back. "Shoot me, Green, and this slip pistol will automatically go off. So if you don't want the lovely lady to die I suggest you drop your hogleg."

Green gritted his teeth, but he could do nothing. He stooped and placed his .44 on the floor.

"Now unhook the belts."

Green lowered his cartridge belts to the floor, letting down his other .44 in its holster.

"Now step back and face the wall," Tibbs ordered, turning the slip pistol on him.

When Green was facing the wall, Tibbs flung Morgan onto a spool bed in the corner and picked up the belts, holstering the loose .44 then slung the belts over his broad shoulder.

"Well, looks like I'm gonna get me two birds with one stone," Tibbs taunted. "You two really pissed off Mr. Loomis. And that's a no-no. Now I gotta take care of you all cause that's what Loomis pays me for. You shouldn't have lied to me, Green. Going out to the Widow Holbarth's was a real dumb-ass move. You got me an ass chewing for that, and I don't like gettin' an ass chewing. You'll pay for that." Tibbs paused for a moment,"Now turn around, Green."

He glanced back at Morgan. "Stand up, bitch. You gotta be taught a lesson, too. Gotta learn what to print and what not to in that damn rag of yours. You don't criticize the Loomises."

As soon as Morgan was on her feet Tibbs said, "Take your clothes off."

"Go to hell you son-of-a-bitch!" she exclaimed."

"Oh, I'm not kiddin', baby. You either peel or I start using Green for target practice." He motioned with his pistol toward Green. "I think we'd both be interested in see'n what yuh look like all butt naked, wouldn't we, Green?"

"You bastard!" Faye Morgan hissed between clenched teeth.

"It's up to you, bitch; what's it going to be?"

Saying this he leveled his pistol at Green.

"No, don't -" she blurted out. Her hands moved slowly to the top button of her blouse.

When the blouse was off, Tibbs said, "Now the skirt."

She hesitated, glanced at Green; hands trembling, she unhooked the waist catch and stepped out of the skirt after kicking off her slippers.

All that remained was a thin cotton vest that hung to mid-thigh. By now her face was flushed and her blue eyes flashing.

Hesitating she finally pulled it off over her head dislodging blonde strands from her neatly bunned coiffure.

Naked she stood before the two men, her firm, full breasts quivering slightly with each rapid heart beat.

Keeping his slip gun on Green, Tibbs reached out suddenly and stuck his finger in Morgan's mouth, hooking it in her cheek, and roughly jerked her against him hanging her up on her tiptoes as if she were a large fish being shown off.

"Nice, ain't she, Green?"

He placed the gun barrel against her left nipple.

"Damn," Tibbs sighed, "nothing like knowing you can do anything you like to make the old pecker hard. Go ahead and squeeze it, bitch. He yanked her farther so that her toes were almost off the floor.

"Stuuufffit," she pleaded.

"No, bitch, not until you play with it."

Her hand found the swollen lump between his legs.

"That's better. That feels good, real good. Bet you'd like some of that too, wouldn't you, Green?" He stroked her well-rounded ass with the barrel of his gun.

"Tell you what, Green, I'm feeling in a generous mood. I don't normally share my women, but I think I'm gonna make an exception."

He aimed the gun at Green. "Take your clothes off too."

Green remained motionless until Tibbs pulled back the hammer of his gun and placed the barrel against her breasts. "Be a shame."

Green stripped slowly out of his rain-soaked clothes. Naked his tanned, hard-muscled body glistened.

"Damn, boy, you're almost as hung as me. This is gonna be an evening the little lady ain't likely to forget for a long time. Ain't that right, honey?" Tibbs squeezed her ass cheek with his free hand, leaving the red imprint of his hand there.

He grabbed a handful of hair and turned her head making her look at Green.

You see what the problem is, darlin', Mr. Green ain't got no hard-on; so that means you're gonna have to help him out, right?"

Maliciously Tibbs twisted her hair until she was forced down on her hands and knees.

"Now crawl over to Mr. Green, bitch, and get him hard, and you'd better look like you're enjoying it cause it'll piss me off if you don't."

Tibbs laughed raucously and placed his foot on her ass shoving her forward.

She stopped in front of Green and raised up on her knees. She placed her hand around the limp organ feeling it swell slightly against her soft palm. His cock was big even soft. She'd had fantasies about the handsome stranger ever since she'd seen him ride into Red Rock, but nothing this crude and vulgar. Nevertheless, she could do nothing. She swore if she ever got the chance she would kill Tibbs. And although she had always been against violence as a means of settling problems, for once in her life she believed it would be justified.

She took the head of Green's cock in her mouth; his hard body quivered like a stallion eager for its morning run. She could feel the softness of the skin and a hardening inner core noticeably swelling as the foreskin retracted on the surface of her tongue. Despite the degrading circumstances, a surge of excitement enlivened her knowing that she was having a sensuous effect on him.

Soon the foreskin had slipped back behind the head; the cock, half-erect, was beginning to fill her mouth. It was becoming difficult not to gag. Removing it, she held the cock up against his belly and licked down the length of it, running her moist tongue lightly over the taut balls, sucking first one then the other into her mouth.

She placed her other hand against his thigh feeling the steel tension of rock-hard muscles. She licked back up the length of the now stout cock, realizing its massive thickness when she couldn't touch the tips of her fingers to her thumb around it.

What would it feel like to have that in her, she found herself thinking, and with a shock she realized she was becoming aroused. Wet. And suddenly she knew she wanted him in her.

"OK," Tibbs said, hoarsely, "both of you get on the bed and fuck."

When Faye stood up and turned she saw Tibbs sitting in her ladder-back chair his pants down around his ankles and his hand wrapped around his cock as he milked it back and forth. His eyes had a crazed, far-off look.

The slip gun was aimed at her belly. Green's cartridge belts and guns still hung from his shoulder.

"Don't try anything stupid; I don't miss."

Faye could feel the heat from Green's body as he stood close behind her. A prickling sensation coursed over her skin like spiderwebs. She was numb, dizzy, unable to concentrate. Her heart was raging in her chest; her knees seemed to have turned liquid.

His hands were warm on her upper arms as he guided her toward the bed. In a heartbeat she was on the bed looking up as Green loomed over her, positioning himself between her legs. As he entered her she cried out. From the corner of her eye she saw Tibbs masturbating furiously but still keeping the gun on them.

At first Green's thrust were slow and shallow but became deeper and faster until their bellies were slapping madly together. She raised her hips to meet his thrust, her hands locked behind his neck. His mouth found hers, his hot, wet tongue wedged its way between her parted, eager lips. Her tongue fought with his. They sucked deeply of each other.

His mouth moved down her slender neck, kissing and sucking, to the nipples, moving from one to the other until both were painfully, deliciously swollen. Her whole body ached for release. Sensation after sensation raced through her. She couldn't think. She was only conscious of raging lust trapped in quivering flesh. It was impossible to think, to focus. All she was aware of was his cock in her cunt pumping in and out.

And suddenly she was coming. It was like falling into a deep well, as if the earth had opened and swallowed her up. She came again. So intense it hurt. Her legs jerked in spasms. Following this there was a gradual leveling off. The climaxes became less intense, ecstasy gave way to a cozy, satiated state.

She wasn't even aware of what had happened when Green suddenly collapsed heavily on top of her crushing her breasts between their hot bodies.

She saw Tibbs standing over them. Grinning. He was holding a pistol by the barrel. Blood dripped into her mouth from Green's head.

Tibbs pulled Green off her and dumped him on the floor. He took a pair of handcuffs out of a hip pocket and cuffed his wrists behind his back.

Morgan watched him go to her chest of drawers and jerk open the top drawer and begin tossing out her underclothing. In the second drawer he found what he wanted: a pair of cotton hose.

With the hose he tied her wrists to the posts of the spool bed.

He dragged Green to the door pausing to look back at her.

"When I take care of him I'll be back, and we'll get real acquainted."

Green came awake as the rain washed over him. Tibbs dragged him face down the stairs by the cuffs which cut painfully into his wrists and placed all the weight of his body on his shoulders.

When Tibbs saw that he was conscious he stopped in the middle of the muddy street and placed his boot on the back of Green's neck forcing his face into the mud.

"Green you should never piss me off; now you're gonna really pay."

Saying this he kicked him savagely in the ribs several times grunting loudly with each kick. There was a cracking sound as bone gave way against the toe of his boot. He jerked Green up by the cuffs' chain and continuing dragging him toward the jail.

"No one's gonna help you, Green; nobody in this town has guts enough to face me; your ass belongs to me."

He kicked open the door of the jail after twisting the knob and dropped Green heavily near the center of the room next to a trapdoor. He pulled it open by a metal ring.

Green raised his head slightly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He tried to roll away from Tibbs but was in too much pain.

"Part of the old Mex calabozo; a hole in the ground," Tibbs said. "I haven't got time to deal with you right now."

He grabbed hold of Green and shoved him into the dark pit. A long second passed followed by a dull thud as Green hit the bottom.

"Sleep tight, Green," Tibbs chuckled. "I'm going back and have some fun with the Morgan bitch."

He slammed the heavy wooden door shut and slid a heavy bolt across. From the bottom of the pit Green stared up into the darkness briefly before his chin dropped against smooth, cool clay.

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