Lulabelle in the West Bk. 01

"She did. I tried to look like I was sleeping."

"She believed it," Boone said. "But what if you'd surprised her and opened your eyes? Maybe she would have mouthfucked you, in the quiet, in the dark."

"I wouldn't have minded," Wesley said. "When I woke I was dreaming of Lula, but Hetty...what do you think of her and Gussie?"

"I've been wanting to ask you two the same," Boone said.

Hetty looked stunned by the overheard conversation, so Lula took charge, pulling her down to a sitting position next to the chicken coop, where they could clearly hear the brothers' voices without being seen.

"You tell us first," Wesley said to Boone. "You're closest to their age. What do you think of them?"

"I've wondered how old they are," Boone said. "I think Gussie may be ten years older than me, and Hetty fifteen. I don't know math, but that's less than a generation. For you two they may work out to be more motherly in age. Does that bother you?"

"Bother me?"

"If she had mouthfucked you. A woman her age."

"I already said, I wouldn't have minded."

"Do you think they bathe when we're out surveying the land?" Elijah asked.

Boone chuckled. "So they've caught our little brother's eye, too. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Your cock horned for Lula's friend Kitty at the house, and she was Hetty's age. They all have a right fine bosom, and slender waists to hold onto."

"Does it matter that Hetty was Father's wife?" Wesley asked.

"Not to me it doesn't. She's not my mother," Boone said. "If I found her alone and she wanted me, I'd mount her like the fine filly that she is. Father always had good taste in women. Our mother was as beautiful as I've ever seen."

"Was she?" Elijah asked.

"Of course! I've told you," Boone said.

"Gussie looks at me with interesting eyes sometimes," Wesley said, "and Hetty saw me naked in my bed. What should we make of it all? Is it just the horns that Lula gives us that mix up our thoughts?"

"Hetty didn't just see you, she devoured you, standing there as long as she did," Boone said. "And why do you think they're here? There's been no talk of them leaving. Not a single word. Think about this — they didn't expect Lula to be here. They came here, the two of them, knowing they'd be alone with us in this valley. A full day's ride from another human soul. In a bunkhouse where we all share our sleeping. Bathing in the open. Just their two nicely bosomed selves and we three brothers."

"They're nicely bottomed, too," Wesley said.

"Yes. Bigger and rounder than Lula's small bottom," Boone said. "Picture yourselves dog-fashion behind those sisters' round bums, with nothing on their bodies but cinchers. They'd look like proper whores, don't you think?"

Wesley's eyes widened when he heard his older brother's words. Elijah sat down on a crate. The conversation was getting serious.

"Do you think they hope to marry two of us, or...?" he asked.

"My best guess?" Boone said. "Gussie wants marriage, but not to someone as young as you two, and not to someone who doesn't hold a Bible in his hand. Hetty is a different kind of fish. It was her idea to come here, and it was her eyes on your horned cock last night."

"You had a horn?" Elijah said. "You let her look at it?"

"I woke with it," Wesley said, smirking. "You know how it is. And her looking made it harder."

"You know the fun we have with Lula," Boone said. "We all love her, and she does her best for us, but there's only one of her, and three of us. We can't gang up on her anymore, with prying eyes watching. I feel the need for another woman, or maybe two."

"But would it be right?" Elijah said. "We're not outlaws."

"This is Perryville," Boone said. "We make our own laws here. Laws are voted by a council, and the three of us are it. I vote to make fornication legal without marriage, and to make age nothing that matters, and to make a father's second wife nothing more than a woman who loves the horn. We'll leave it up to Hetty and Gussie to decide if they want to be included or not. We need to be respectful of their wishes."

Wesley smiled. "You have my vote."

"And mine," Elijah said.

Outside the rough-hewn barn wall, Hetty was overwhelmed by raw emotion. Her eyes were wildly alive and glassy. Lula took her hand and quietly led her away, down to the riverbank.

"Are you as pleased by this as I think you are?" Lula asked.

Hetty nodded. "Yes...Are you?"

"Of course. I think it's perfect news," Lula said. "What about Gussie? If the onslaught comes, will she be accepting of it?"

"I fear she won't," Gussie said. "It's still too soon. I've been planting some seeds, but I don't yet know if they've taken root, or if they ever will. Now that I know of the boys interest — oh my, my heart is pounding — I'll work harder on her. You must think I'm a crazy, desperate old woman, but I see this as an opportunity I can not pass up. A man who sees a gold nugget in a stream wouldn't walk away."

"No, he wouldn't, and from the sounds of it our boys have realized they've struck gold, right here in Perryville. What did you make of the talk of marriage? Was that on your mind when you made the journey here?"

"No, I can honestly say it wasn't, and I'm sure it wasn't on Gussie's mind. I came here looking to re-live the best summer of my life, the summer I told you about, with Edwin and the hired hands. I stand here in disbelief realizing this magical place might have more in store for me, and for my dear sister, as well."

—

Chapter 4

Three more days went by. They were not without interest. Hetty made it a point to plan work chores that the three women shared so she and Lula could talk openly about men. Gussie knew what her sister was up to, and she thought she had her defenses firmly in place, but the new things she was learning were more exciting than anything she'd ever imagined. Among the other revelations, Lula confessed that she'd worked in houses of ill repute, and that she'd met the brothers under those circumstances. She recounted the experience of their rescue of her from the outlaw-owned place — wearing Wesley's clothes, tying her hair up to look like a man, riding fast along treacherous trails, listening for snapping twigs at night until they were three days away, well on their way to their new life in Perryville.

Hetty loved the fact that Lula had been a real live whore, and Gussie was disgusted at herself for being interested. The language Lula brought with her was brand new to Gussie, and it was rich with visual meaning. Lula had fascinating words for everything, sometimes four, five or six different words for the same thing. Breasts, boobies, boom-booms and teats were the top parts of a woman, but the more interesting words were reserved for the part down below. Gussie had been taught to call it a vagina, but even that was frowned upon in her world. "Your lady area" was more widely accepted. Lula, though, brought forth a veritable basketful of new terminology — snatch-box, clam, holster, tunnel, bore, cunt, cock-trap, and jam-pot. The terms were sweetened with words like fur, cunt-lips, cunt-wig, and, one that made Hetty laugh: tail-juice.

"What on earth is that?" Gussie asked. As soon as the question was out in the open she scolded herself for asking it.

"It's your lubrication, Gussie," Hetty told her. "God designed we women to be fucked, and to get a big hammer-sized cock into us two things need to happen — the man needs to have a well-hardened horn, and we need to have a slippery cunt. I'm sure you've noticed your own tail-juice from time to time. I can feel mine moistening whenever I meet a handsome man."

"Why would you want to?" Gussie asked, embarrassedly.

"What, Gussie? Meet a handsome man?"

"No. The big...I mean, the...hammer sized."

"Ohhh," Hetty said. "Well, now we're getting somewhere." The women were in the kitchen making bread, so Hetty reached for the whiskey bottle and poured three small glasses.

"You know I don't drink," Gussie said.

"Try it for me," Hetty said lovingly, "and we'll talk about men and their horns."

The women placed kitchen towels over the three loaves they'd just finished kneading, and they sat down at the table for a short break from their chores. Their hands were white with flour and little bits of sticky dough. They all took a sip of whiskey; Hetty smiled at Gussie's grimace.

"You'll get used to the taste of it," Hetty said. "Just enjoy the warmth that it gives you."

"It's similar, in a way, to what we were talking about, isn't it," Lula said, savoring her sip.

Hetty cocked her head with curiosity.

"I mean," Lula continued, "we were going to talk about men with big hammers, right? That warm, interesting feel of good whiskey hitting your blood is similar to that wonderfully warm feeling of a big hard hammer slipping inside you. That's what the tail-juice does, Gussie. It lets the man slide in. Take another sip of your drink, a little bigger one."

Gussie put the glass to her lips, took some of the golden liquid into her mouth and swallowed it down her throat. It was indeed a bigger sip, and the feeling of warmth was powerful. There was something more to it as well, an inner rush of a kind of euphoria that was brand new to her.

"Imagine that feeling...here," Lula said, reaching for her own crotch, squeezing it with her hand, through her skirt. "It's a place right in the middle of you. God put it there so the feelings can reach every bit of you, from your finger tips to your toes. They don't call good sex toe-curling for nothing."

"But I still wonder," Gussie said quietly. "I've heard whispers over the years about...size. All the words you use, they often reference it."

"Big hammers? Is that what you mean?" Hetty asked.

"Donkey-hung," Lula smiled. "Maybe you've heard pump handle, or big as a fencepost."

"Yes," Gussie said. "But why?"

"Why would a woman want that?" Hetty said. "Is that what you mean?"

Gussie nodded, and she took another sip of her whiskey.

"It goes back to the warmth," Lula said. "A bigger cock makes me warmer. More of those mysterious feelings. Everything feels... more."

"We talked the other day of the boys' bodily charms, and how they match their dear departed father," Hetty said. "Lula, do fathers and sons often match in that regard?"

"Cock size and ball bags? From what I've seen they do."

"As you can imagine, I saw Edwin with a horn many a day and night," Hetty said, "but I must confess to you, dear sister; I saw his son Wesley with a horn just four days ago."

Gussie's eyes were wide open with intrigue. "How is that possible?"

"I know you've watched the boys bathe in the river...no...don't deny it...but seeing them flaccid is only half the story," Hetty said. "I wish you could see the tender giants that those cocks are when they're hard."

Gussie's face was as red as a beet. Her embarrassment felt warmer than the whiskey, but she was strangely glad that her spying on the bathing men was out in the open; she'd been feeling the need to confess.

"Have you been lucky enough to see Wesley uncovered at night, when you go for your privy walk?" Hetty asked her.

Gussie shook her head. She had looked at the boys once or twice when they slept, but they'd always been mostly covered. A fairly close-up look at their bare chests had been her most exciting discovery, and it was indeed very exciting.

"Men have a peculiar trait," Hetty said. "Their cocks are often hard as a horn when they sleep. Do you think it's their dreams that do it, Lula?"

"Yes, that's what I've always thought."

"So, dear sister, be on the lookout for lumpy blankets, or, as I found four nights ago, blankets that have been cast off. Wesley must have been warm, because he was uncovered nearly to his kneecaps, and he was dreaming, and his big pump-handle of a horn was in his hand."

"In his hand?" Gussie said. Her eyes were wide and she was riveted to the exciting conversation. She took another sip of whiskey.

"In his hand," Hetty said.

"That happens a lot, too," Lula said. "They like to hold them."

"They do?" Gussie said.

"They're amazing pieces of anatomy," Hetty said. "The skin that covers them is made of the same thing as the inside of our cunts," Hetty said. "What feels so amazing to us feels just as much so to them."

"They only have the feeling in them when they're hard, or so I've been told," Lula said.

"Oh! Interesting!" Hetty said. "I've wondered about that."

"So Wesley was...like that?" Gussie asked. "Right in our room?"

"Yes. A beautiful young man," Hetty said.

The women were startled by someone coming in through the open doorway. Gussie leapt to her feet, nervously straightening her dress and her flour-soiled apron.

"Don't mind me, ladies," Boone said. He went to his duffel bag and pulled out his knife. "Something smells good."

"It's just bread dough," Hetty said. "It'll be baked and warm for dinner."

The three women watched him leave.

"Big hammers isn't the only thing I like about the Perry boys," Lula said. "Three men with behinds like that has got to be some kind of a jackpot."

Hetty chuckled, and Gussie chuckled, too.

—

Chapter 5

The women chatted about sexy things for at least a few minutes numerous times a day. Hetty loved picking Lula's brain about the finer points, and Gussie had even started asking Hetty questions on her own, all of which made Hetty smile. There was still no talk of her and Gussie leaving the valley — nobody seemed to want them to — so Hetty was feeling good about things. The boys' conversation in the barn, the one that she and Lula had overheard, stayed on her mind. She knew the stage was set for bigger things to happen, the very things she'd dreamt about for months, but getting the fuse lit was tricky business. Two nights later, Hetty found her opening.

In the darkness, while the house slept, Hetty's gentle hand awakened Gussie. Hetty had her fingers to her own lips, silently asking Gussie to keep quiet. Gussie's heart raced — she wondered if there was an intruder or something else to be afraid of, but Hetty's face looked calm and happy.

"It's Wesley," Hetty whispered nearly silently, directly in Gussie's ear. "Come and look."

Gussie knew immediately what her sister was up to. It should have been shocking, but it wasn't. She shouldn't have gotten out of bed, but she did. She should have kept the Bible in her hand, the well-worn black one that she slept with every night, but she left it on her warm bed and she flipped her blanket over it, hiding it from view.

The two women had their nightgowns on; heavy, long-sleeved cotton garments that buttoned all the way to their necks and nearly touched the floor. The sisters made their way between the hanging horse-blanket curtains and Lula's bed, creeping as silently as they could, toward Wesley's bed just ten or twelve feet away. Gussie's heart thumped so loudly she could hear it inside her head.

The moon wasn't full and the big room was very dark, but Gussie's eyes could see. Maybe it was her curiosity that brightened the visuals. For whatever reason, Wesley's naked manhood, pump handle big and horn hard, seemed to Gussie to be lit with an inner light. Wesley's hand was on it, the way Hetty had said it was the week before. The entire scene that spread out before her overwhelmed Gussie. Three sleeping, masculine men, two with bare chests and one with his hard cock in his hand. She nearly fainted.

Hetty put her lips right against Gussie's ear and whispered, nearly silently. "Go back behind the curtains and watch me through the opening."

The barely-there whisper reminded Gussie of her childhood with Hetty, when the two of them played simple games. Gussie backed away, back toward the curtain, feeling as if she was walking on someone else's legs. Leaving Hetty behind with a naked man felt reckless, but it all happened quickly, with her mind still in the fog of sleep.

Back behind the curtains, Gussie moved the opening slightly, letting Hetty know she was watching. Hetty had already gone down on her knees, and Gussie tried to come to grips with what was happening. She glanced over at Lulabelle, sleeping soundly, her big breasts nearly spilling out of the half unbuttoned camisole that she always wore to bed. When Gussie looked back at Hetty she could hardly believe her eyes. Hetty had Wesley's cock in her hand, with her kissing lips on the odd looking end of it. The boy moaned softly as if he was dreaming, and then Hetty's head plunged downward and Wesley's horny cock all but disappeared in her mouth. Wesley, newly awakened, lifted his head to watch. Hetty's head rose and the big cock was visible again, and then she plunged downward again. Up and down her head moved, over and over, with Wesley softly sighing. Gussie's eyes were as big as an owl's. It was a mouthfuck! Right there in the open!

Less than a minute later it ended. Wesley's hands held onto Hetty's head and his body tensed and showed all its strong muscles, his breath escaped him in a new and different way, and then Hetty scurried back behind the curtain. She sat on the side of Gussie's bed with her.

"Do you want to taste him in my mouth," she whispered in Gussie's ear. "His spunk is plentiful."

Gussie shook her head, looking a little frightened. The episode had indeed been reckless, and Gussie worried about what would happen next. My sister the whore, she said to herself, looking into Hetty's excited eyes.

"Go to sleep," Gussie whispered in her older sister's ear. "We don't want the others to wake."

—

Chapter 6

In the morning, no one spoke a word about the nocturnal tryst. The conversation at the breakfast table was the same as usual — guesses about the coming weather, plans for the day's work, and ideas for future projects. When the men scattered, the women cleaned up the dishes. Afterward, Gussie went for her daily walk in the meadow, amongst the wildflowers, with her Bible in her hand.

Hetty was alone in the house when Lula ran in. She grabbed Hetty's hand and dragged her out the door, heading toward the barn at a fast clip. With the men inside, talking, Lula and Hetty settled in like spies, next to the chicken coop, listening through the opening. Hetty's heart was pounding.

"What did it feel like?" Boone asked. "Is she skilled?"

"It was quick, but that's because it was good," Wesley said. "She swallowed my spunk."

"I saw," Boone said.

"She swallowed?," Elijah said. "I thought just the girls from the houses did that."

"Not if you're lucky," Boone said. "But even a mouthfuck is a lucky thing in the real world."

"Maybe she's a whore," Elijah said. "Maybe father met her in a house and fell in love with her, like we did with Lula.

"It's possible, but I don't think so," Boone said. "She's educated, from back East. Father told us he met her in a small town were she taught school. I don't think he lied to us. I think her appetites are due to Father. Think about it — every time we meet someone who knew him we're told how much like him we are. That means the opposite is true. He must have loved being with women as much as we do, and Hetty must have learned well."

"How did she mouthfuck so quietly?" Elijah said. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"How would I have done that?" Boone said. "I didn't want her to know I was watching. We don't know how fearless she is. Maybe it's just Wesley that has her eye. Maybe it will never happen again. We don't know. I do know I'd love to see her out of that nightgown she wears. Don't you wish she and Gussie would dress for bed like Lula does? Maybe we should try harder to catch them bathing."

"But I still don't understand why a woman of her age would act like a horn-loving girl," Elijah said. "It's not common, is it?"