Hiding Out in Dixie

Dixie nodded but I could tell she was far from reassured.

I rode in the cramped back seat all the way to the cabin. Nobody talked very much. I had not realized I was going to be spending my time in the cabin with Dixie as company. It had interesting possibilities.

Sheriff Jordan's cabin was about as far away from Last Chance as it could get and still be in Texas. It was formerly an old miner's cabin back when people still thought there was gold in Crippled Creek. For a while it had been used by the border patrol and they had installed the inside bath and the small outbuilding with a fairly powerful generator for electricity. Sheriff Jordan had bought it and modernized it even more. Now there were two windows in the front but they were not large enough for a man to wiggle through. Inside he put a couple of celling fans that kept it surprisingly cool. The inside bedroom doors were made of a flimsy plywood but the front door was heavy, solid and reassuring. It would take a tank to break down that door.

"There's a television but all you can get is one news channel," Sheriff Jordan said, "but there's also a VCR and I've got a collection of old movies in the box by the door. Most of them are old westerns but you might find something in there to watch." Sheriff Jordan turned to me and his face grew deathly serious. "Remember when you are inside to keep the door locked and keep the shotgun with you at all times. Nobody's going to sneak up on you unless he's an Apache."

"There are Indians out here?" Dixie said, with new alarm in her voice.

I was beginning to realize Dixie wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. But I was wrong about her being plump because her bare legs were strong, sturdy and shapely, and the look of plumpness was because she had such a small frame and she was so big on top.

"No Indians," Sheriff Jordan assured her. He took from his pocket a cell phone and handed it to me. "This is one of those pre-packaged things. I think you've got like ten minutes talking time. Don't waste it but call me if it's necessary. I'm going to keep a Sheriff's car around the area so one glimpse of Beckman and we'll be here."

"Okay," I said.

I admit I felt a little less than safe when I watched Sheriff Jordan drive away. He was right about one thing. There was nothing to see but flat, empty land in every direction. The cabin sat on the bank of Crippled Creek, a narrow stream that ran for sixty or seventy miles down to the Rio Grande. Across the creek I could see a cropping of large rocks and shrubbery. I figured I would take a walk later and check it out but for now I went back into the cabin and carefully locked the door behind me.

The cabin had been well stocked but the most important thing was lying on the bed I would use in the small back bedroom: a Remington 810 pump shotgun with two boxes of double-ought buckshot. I loaded the shotgun and put it in the corner near the bed where I could quickly retrieve it if necessary.

A well-worn dresser nearby was stocked with underwear, socks, and three pair of jeans. A shaving bag on top of the dresser had soap, comb, shaving cream, razor and extra blades. Sheriff Jordan had thought of everything. In the kitchen Dixie had opened some canned soup and put it on a small stove to simmer.

"I got hungry," Dixie said. "You want some."

"Sure."

I checked out the small Sears refrigerator and it was well stocked with eggs, milk, vegetables, fruit and a few steaks in the freezer; all the comforts of home. The cupboard under the kitchen sink held plastic plates, bowls, cups, utensils, and napkins. Dixie poured chicken noodle soup into two bowls and we sat at the table and ate. One of the small windows was above the kitchen sink and I could see everything in front of the cabin for a long distance, but already the shadows were deepening and soon it would be inky-black.

I finished my soup and went to the front door and checked again to make sure it was locked.

"You want to watch a movie or something?" Dixie said.

"I'll see what I can find," I said.

Dixie dumped the plastic trash into the trash container and washed out the pot while I went through the sack. Most of the movies were very old. I put in an old western with John Wayne and we sat on the couch to watch. Dixie did not sit close but close enough for me to feel the warmth of her body. I started remembering that even half-delirious, I had talked Dixie into opening her uniform. I wondered what I could talk her into now that we were alone. I was admiring Dixie's legs and the thrust of her breasts underneath the man's shirt when I realized Dixie was actually enraptured by the old western movie.

"I didn't know John Wayne could sing," she said.

I didn't have the heart to tell her the voice of Sandy, the singing cowboy, was dubbed.

When the movie was finished, Dixie turned to me. She folded her knee up on the couch as her dark eyes studied my face for a moment.

"Why did you say those awful things about me?" Dixie asked.

I knew the question was coming and I had already rehearsed in my mind how I was going to answer. I had a dozen really good explanations that I thought would impress her. In other words, I was going to lie.

Instead I found myself saying, "I don't know, Dixie. You are just so sexy. I was just going to tell Jim-Bob about you showing me your breasts but I kind of added some stuff to it.'

"I'll say," Dixie said. "Hoss is going to be really furious when he hears. He'll never believe the truth.'

I put my hand on Dixie's knee. "Since he'll never believe the truth and since we're here together, why don't we...?"

Dixie actually seemed to consider the idea for a moment but then she moved my hand away. "I'm old enough to be your Mom, and I'm not one of those, what you call them?"

"Milf's," I suggested.

"Yes, I'm not one of those. I'm not a Mom. I'm just a woman who married the wrong guy and I've been regretting it ever since."

"Well, maybe you could show them to me again," I suggested.

"All you men are alike," Dixie said, snorting in disgust. She stood up and jerked the man's shirt up for a quick glimpse of her breasts encased in a plain white bra. "There. Satisfied? We are about to be murdered in our beds and all you can think about is these."

She turned on her heel and pranced into her room and slammed the door shut behind her. She was wrong, though. Her breasts were not all I could think about. She had a really nice ass too.

In the morning I caught Dixie starting to open another can of soup.

"I don't want soup for breakfast," I said.

"It's all I know how to cook," Dixie wailed.

I shook my head sadly. "Technically, boiling soup is not cooking. Why don't you take your shower and I'll make breakfast."

"Okay," she said.

Dad and I shared the cooking chores and I made a great Texas omelet. I put coffee on to boil and then chopped up onions, tomatoes, cheese and peppers and mixed them together with a few large eggs. I had the table set by the time Dixie got out of the shower. She wore a pair of cut-off jeans and a green t-shirt with a picture of a rodeo horse on the front. I was disappointed because I could see the outline of her bra straps underneath the shirt. I was hoping she might have left it off.

After breakfast, I suggested taking a walk out back. I wanted to check out the rocks and shrubs across the creek.

"Do you think it's safe?" she asked.

"In the daylight we can see anybody coming for miles," I said. "And I'll take the shotgun. We'll be safe enough. We'll go crazy if we stay cooped up in here all the time."

She nervously agreed. I took my own shower and put on fresh underwear and clean jeans. Dixie took my free arm as we left the cabin and she snuggled up against me. I am not sure she even thought about what she was doing. I think she felt less nervous being close.

We walked down to the creek and found a way to cross on some stepping stones. It would have been safe enough to cross in the water but our feet would have gotten wet. On the other side Dixie did take off her shoes and socks and put her bare feet in the water. I liked looking at her legs as she stood in the water, and the curve of her ass. She was an eighteen year old boy's wet dream come true.

"It's colder than I thought," she said.

She put her shoes and socks back on and we went farther. A narrow trail went up a slight embankment and through the crevice of the rocks. We went through it. The narrow crevice opened up into a large spacious cavern open to the sky but surrounded on all sides by rocks. Years ago someone had built a fire and a circle of blackened rocks remained. I wondered if some Texas outlaw had used this place for a hideout.

"You could hold off an Army in here," I said.

"What?" Dixie asked.

"There's only one way in and out. A guy with a shotgun could hold off an Army coming through that narrow gap. Of course, if they climbed up the rock on either side they would be able to shoot down into the opening, but if there was just one guy chasing you and you hid in here, you could hold him off forever."

"You mean like Hoss chased us in here?"

"Yes."

Dixie looked like she was thinking deeply.

We walked back to the cabin. I was careful to lock the door. It was already getting hot outside but the generator kept the ceiling fans turning. There was little else to do and we watched another old western. There was plenty of room on the old, sagging couch but Dixie chose to sit practically in my lap. Evidently she had decided to forgive me for telling everyone we had sex, and with those big soft breasts against my arm, it was all I could do not to grab them. I stretched and put my arm on the couch behind her head like I used to do with Becky Gunner. I put my hand on Dixie's shoulder and then stretched my fingers so that I only a few inches away from one of her big nipples.

The movie was not that good but in the end the singing cowboy corralled the bad guys and Dixie squealed and sat up straighter and my hand was suddenly full of hot, creamy breast, protected only by a thin piece of cloth. Dixie looked down at my hand and at me and started to move and I said, "No. Stay there."

I was really pleading with her to stay but my voice came out with a more commanding tone and it was like it had a hypnotic effect on her. For a moment her eyes went soft, like an obedient puppy dog, and she settled back into my arms without another comment. I took a chance and kissed the soft skin of her neck while I caressed her breast and tweaked her nipple a little. She didn't make a sound of protest.

The problem was I didn't know where to go next. Oh, I knew what I wanted to do but I wasn't sure exactly how to get there and I didn't know how she would react if I really started kissing her and trying to get her out of her clothes. So I just sat there and played with her breast for a while, kissing her neck now and then.

Finally, my arm was getting cramped and Dixie said she was hungry. I didn't want another can of soup so I sliced some ham and cut up some pickles and onions and tomatoes and we had ham sandwiches. Sheriff Jordon had stocked some chips and snack crackers and even a couple of bottles of cheap wine. I opened one of the bottles and we had red wine with our sandwiches.

Afterwards I found a music station on the small radio, we sat on the couch and sipped some more red wine, and I put my arm around her again. The wine actually had a pretty good taste. I dropped my hand to her breast again and Dixie didn't struggle so I squeezed a little. Dixie looked up at my hand but she did nothing but take another sip of wine.

"How did you ever get mixed up with a guy like Hoss Beckman anyway," I asked.

Dixie shrugged. "I met him at a party one night. I was in nursing school. He was the big football hero and all the girls thought he was cute. He asked me out and I said yes. He was really nice to me for a while and I didn't know how mean he could be." Dixie shivered. "He's a very scary man."

"So I understand," I said.

I leaned over and kissed Dixie on the neck. She turned her head and I found her lips. Her mouth opened and we tongue-kissed for a while. I slipped my hand underneath her shirt and tried to underneath her bra. For the first time she struggled against me.

"We can't do this, Longfellow," she said. "It's not right."

"You make me so hot, Dixie," I said.

"I'm too old for you," she protested.

"No, you're perfect for me," I said.

It went like for a while. Between sips of wine Dixie would push me away, hold my hand, protest slightly, but she didn't forcefully try to stop me, even when I got her bra unhooked. I got my hand under the material and felt her hot, creamy flesh and I started running my fingers over her hard nipple.

I kept kissing her neck and biting her gently. I tried to do things that would make her hot. I'm not sure if I was succeeding because she didn't suddenly become a raging nympho tearing at my clothes. She didn't do anything at all but sip her wine with her eyes closed and let me play with her.

I took a chance and pulled up her shirt and then her bra to her neck and I bent and licked her nipple. I thought she was going to resist but she put her hand behind my head and urged me closer. I opened my mouth and took her nipple in between my teeth and tugged on it gently. I think it got to her because she gasped. I started sucking at her a little harder and squeezing her other nipple in my fingers. My cock was so hard it was hurting but when I dropped my hand between her legs, she jumped back.

"No, we can't," she said.

"I'm hurting Dixie," I said and grabbed her hand and pressed it against me. "You've got me really worked up."

Dixie shook her head. "No, I can't let you make love to me. It wouldn't be right."

"Do something for me," I said.

She stopped fighting me and let her hand rest on my cock. She squeezed me and I groaned. I kissed her mouth for the first time and pushed my tongue between her lips. She let me tongue kiss her for a few minutes and then she pulled back.

"If I do something for you, you can't ever tell," she said

"Of course not," I promised, which was kind of stupid because she already knew what my promises were worth since I had bragged to Jim-Bob that I fucked her.

"I won't let you make love to me," she said again.

She undid my zipper. Her hot hand slipped inside my jeans and she found my cock and expertly maneuvered it from my jockey shorts and out the hole. She tightened her grip on the base of my cock and jerked it a couple of times. I thought maybe she was going to jerk me off but then she did something that took me completely by surprise. She put her head in lap and took my cock into her mouth all the way to my balls.

Dixie possessed a really fat tongue and her lips and tongue around my cock was an incredible sensation, not to mention that liquid in her mouth felt like hot oil. She drew her head back slowly and looked up at me.

"Now you really can't tell anybody about this," she said seriously. "A girl has to watch out for her reputation."

She swallowed me again, I felt cramped and I reached down and undid my jeans and pulled them down to my knees. I moved my shorts out of the way and Dixie immediately pulled her head back and started licking down the length of my shaft. She licked my balls and then back up again. Once again she swallowed me and started to bob her head.

I had been waiting too long. On about the third bob I warned her but she was on the down bob and there was no time for her to get away even if she'd wanted too. I think I yelled as I spurted hotly into her mouth. She gasped a little and then started swallowing as fast as she could. She was forced to swallow until her jaws ached because I had a lot to give her. When my balls tightened the last time and I leaked the rest of my cream into her mouth, she drew her head back and reached for her glass of wine. She drank the rest of the wine down in a couple of gulps. Her eyes were tearing up.

"I almost choked," Dixie gasped.

I reached between her legs. She grew stiff but then she shrugged and her thighs opened a little and I thought she was going to give in. I stroked through her jeans for a moment but then she pushed me violently away.

"No more of that," she whispered. "No more."

She ran into her room and closed the door. She didn't come out anymore, not even when I knocked on her door and asked if she wanted supper.

In the morning we had milk and cereal and Dixie left enough hot water for me to shave. I admit I didn't have much more than stubble. I was feeling pretty good. I had gotten my first blowjob the night before, and I had a feeling that Dixie's defenses were coming down. I sensed I was getting a little farther with her every time.

After breakfast, we went for another walk. Dixie talked. I learned more about her childhood, her schooling and her friends than I ever needed to know. I figured it was something to do with being born in Ohio. Texas girls don't talk so much.

We crossed over the creek and walked back to where we found an old burnt out car and then we turned and walked back. Dixie stayed close to me. She still looked uncomfortable with me holding the shotgun but I sure wasn't going to let it get out of my sight. I put my arm around her and let my hand stray down to her ass. She moved my hand a couple of times but she still wasn't going to get far away.

There really wasn't much to do we watched another movie and ate some raisin bread. In the afternoon we had one of those unexpected thunder storms. It rained hard for twenty seconds and then it stopped. After the rain, it always seemed hotter than before and we stayed inside.

I turned on the television and we found the news station. I was only half listening to it when the name of Hoss Beckman was mentioned. It seemed Hoss and his cousin Willie had run a road block put up by Texas Rangers and there was a high speed chase. Their car had been wrecked but they had somehow managed to escape. One of the Rangers was injured. When the announcer mentioned the name of the town, I saw Dixie go pale again. The Beckman's were only a few miles away from us.

I thought she was going to be sick. She crossed her hands over her stomach and she shook. I sat beside her and put my arm around her and she snuggled against me. Her teeth were chattering.

"You can't let him find me," she whispered. "He almost killed me last time. Please don't let him find me. Please keep me safe."

"I'll protect you," I promised, although I wasn't sure about how much protection I would be.

Dixie was really scared and I found out something about Dixie. When Dixie was really scared, she became even more pliable and obedient and clingy. She followed me around like a lost puppy and she kept touching me as if to reassure herself I was still there. And if I wanted to play with her breast or squeeze a plump cheek, she did not try to move away anymore. Somehow I knew deep down I was going to get laid that night.

We spent the day watching television, reading books and kissing and hugging. . Dixie had acted pretty tough about the whole situation, but now that the Beckman's were getting closer, I could see real fear in her eyes. We went for an evening stroll and she stayed glued to me the entire walk. I didn't mind. I encouraged it by putting my arm around her waist and squeezing. I moved my hand up from her waist and cupped her breast. She did not protest. It was sweet to be able to feel a real woman up without even a word of protest. We walked across the river and up through the narrow crevice in the rocks to the little clearing.

"You could really keep me safe in here?" Dixie asked. Her voice trembled. Moonlight reflected off the high rocks beside us and Dixie pressed tightly against me. My cock grew stiff.