[carlbrad12]

Several months ago I replied to a member who was looking to have a story written about herself.  By request I am posting it here
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=44686
The story is quite long so I will post it in pieces.
Part 1 tells the story of Cactus Creek and introduces the characters.
Part 2 is the where the action heats up
Part 3 is a continuation.  And so on.
So, here goes;
The Battle of Cactus Creek
   Cactus Creek, I guess everyone has heard about our little town by now. We’re pretty well known for a bunch of reasons, but mainly for the cactus, and there is a lot of it, how the town came to be and for having the toughest lawmen this side of the Mississippi. My name is Eric and I ought to know cause I’m one of the deputies (more on that later).
   About that town history. It’s pretty funny now, but I guess back in those early days it wasn’t so humorous. You see there were these fellas, what you would call confidence men, and they would buy up these worthless parcels of land, give them fancy names, and then sell the deeds, at an inflated price, to yokels back east. Vete a la Mierda Gilipollas, that was the name of this soon to be town that was bought by a bunch of eastern yokels looking to start a new settlement out west. Paid a pretty price for it too and gathered their kith and kin, and everything they owned, and headed west in their covered wagons. On the long trip out, whenever people asked where they were going, the yokels would proudly say “Vete a la Mierda Gilipollas”, which them fellas that sold them the land said was Spanish for God’s little flower. Sometimes the people would say how fancy that sounded. Sometimes the people would get real mad and start cussing up a storm. Wasn’t till they was halfway across the country before they met up with a Mexican fella who kindly told them that they should find a new name for their town because Vete a la Mierda Gilipollas did not mean God’s little flower, it meant “fuck you, asshole”. Well they got out here and there wasn’t much there except for the cactus and the creek, hence our new name.
   Like I said, there wasn’t much here except for the cactus and the creek, and there was a lot of cactus too. We’re pretty famous for that too. We had a fella from someplace called Oxford in England come visit and he was some kind of professor and it turns out we have the most different kinds of cactus varieties than anywhere else in the world. Madame Orr, of Madame Orr’s Gentleman’s Club and Emporium, makes a tidy profit every year by digging up cacti and shipping them around the world so people can have a part of the west in their own little homes.
    Madame Orr is not the only one to make a profit off this town. You see, those confidence men were really slick fellas, but the joke was on them because it was during that first year that a stranger rode through town, and promptly dropped dead. Being good Christians they gave that poor man a proper burial and about halfway through the service, heads bowed, they saw it. Gold!  Lots of it, and some silver too, and we turned into a boom town overnight. We went from a small town of tents and barely built buildings and turned into what they call a “thriving metropolis” overnight. There were more saloons and whorehouses than you could shake a stick at and there were drunken brawls in the muddy streets and that first year, well I swear they shot more lead than the last two wars put together. It was cattle country too, and we were smack dab on the trail to the railroad, so when the cattle drives came by we would have the cowboys, dusty and dirty and looking to let off steam tearing up the town as well. We got too big, too fast, and nobody really knew what to do.
   As for law and order, well, in those early days there wasn’t much law and there was no order at all. Sheriffs came and went, usually into the ground, but a couple just quit altogether. There was one who came to town and proudly boasted how he would clean it up once and for all, and in the short trip between the Mayor’s office and the Sheriff’s office turned tail and ran. He never even made it to the Sheriff’s office. I guess his heart wasn’t in the job.
   Then came the day that Richard Anderson came to town. Richard Anderson, 6’4” and 200 pounds of tough, mean lawman. He wore a fancy two-gun rig on his hips and they called him “Lightning Dick” because he was so fast he could draw, put a hole in you and holster his gun before you could clear leather. They also called him Big Dick Anderson, some say because he was 6’4” and 200 pounds of mean, and for other reasons, or so the ladies say. My daddy ended up being one of his part-time deputies so I can say the nicknames both fit him to a T.
   Big Dick Anderson brought law and order to this town, and he brought one other thing, his daughter, Amanda. We had some pretty girls in town but nothing like Amanda. First off, Amanda dresses like a boy, denim and jeans, but she sure as shit don’t look like no boy. Long, blonde hair flowing from under her hat, Amanda was 5’9´and 145 pounds of, excuse my French, dick hardening curves. Most of the gals around here, well you might imagine what they had underneath their dresses, but Amanda wore her clothes so tight you didn’t have to imagine anything. Amanda wore a two-gun rig herself, only she wore her guns on her front hips, the barrels pointed towards that hidden treasure between her legs. Amanda was as pretty as any of the dancehall girls or the painted ladies at Madame Orr’s and the other whorehouses, and all the boys drooled when she walked down the street. I can attest to that. The first time I saw Amanda, with that long blonde hair, beautiful face and breasts that strained the limits of her shirt, I stood there dumbfounded. I watched her walk down the street, staring at the wonderfully round globes of her ass swish and sway as she strutted along I had an instant hard-on. Amanda oozed sexuality from head to toe, and don’t think that she didn’t know it. Amanda would strut down the street, swinging those hips, and turning heads, with a haughty smile on her face.
   If Big Dick was “Lightning Dick” then Amanda was “Kid Lightning” because she was just as fast, if not faster, on the draw. She was not shy about whipping out her guns either. Like father, like daughter, as they say, and she was not just a chip off the old block but Big Dick deputy as well. They whipped the town into shape in no time.
   First thing they did was to get a city ordinance passed, moving all the saloons, whorehouses and whatnot to the south side of the city, figuring if we were going to have them they might as well all be together and away from decent folk. They did serve a purpose, after all, and they made money, lots of it, and that helped the merchants in town. So they moved them down by the livery and the cattle pens. The next step was banning the carrying of firearms within city limits. That took some getting used to, but after a few brave ones ended up face down in the dirt people got the point. They were welcome to come into town, booze and whore it up, and do what they want, as long as they kept to the right end of town and left their guns at home. After all, a good time ain’t worth dying over.
   Of course dying ain’t always the worst thing that can happen to you. Big Dick, and Lightning Amanda, were fast with their guns, tough, and mean too. You don’t enforce law and order by being nice. Lots of cowboys spent a night or two in the jail, usually for being drunk, but occasionally they would come across a real hard case, you know, one of them cowboys who thinks he’s tough or fast, or someone would just piss one of them off, and they would wish things had ended in a gunfight. These poor souls, still talking big, would find themselves staring down the barrel of a Colt before they had finished their trash talk. Locked away, the lucky ones would just get a whipping. The unlucky ones?  Well, the way I heard it was that they would be chained to one of the cells, facing the bars, and then, like the ladies, these poor souls would find out why they called the Sheriff Big Dick. You could see it in their eyes went they crawled out of town with their tail between their legs. These so-called tough cowboys or gunslingers had been broken. I remember seeing one of them hard types limping outta town and what I saw in his eyes wasn’t anger and it wasn’t hatred or anything like that; it was shame.
   In a wild town like Cactus Creek Big Dick was the kind of lawman we needed, I suppose. He was big, he was tough, he was fast and he was mean, but he didn’t have nothing on ole Lightning. My Daddy told me how she would just bat her eyes at Big Dick, and in her sing-song voice say “Daddy, let’s tar and feather him!”  The “lucky” ones just got this concoction of molasses and glue along with the feathers that would take some hard scrubbing to get off. The unlucky ones got hot tar and boy did Amanda love to slather it on. She would giggle with glee, especially when she got below the waist. And Amanda was the one who came up with the idea of the branding irons. They had three of them. One was a Double A, and more than one hired gun slunk outta town with AA branded on his gun hand. The second branding iron is shaped like a lightning bolt and that was Amanda’s, while the third was Big Dick’s and it was shaped like, well, like a big dick. If you ever saw it you would know exactly what it was. You might get any, or all of them brands burned into you and I know what you’re thinking, “but you can’t fit all them brands on a hand”. Exactly!  More than one cowpoke has slunk outta town with a lightning bolt burnt into one ass cheek and a big dick on the other. And Lord help the man that Amanda took a shine to who didn’t return the feeling. He might find himself chained to that cell, and if he didn’t want to fuck Amanda, well she would fuck him!  Amanda had this special harness she strapped on and sticking out the front was what they call a dildo, a fake cock, and modeled after Big Dick no doubt, and she would make that cowpoke scream and cry like a little girl before she put her brand on him. The lucky ones just got a lightning bolt branded on each ass cheek. The unlucky ones might get a lightning bolt right on their pecker!
   Of course there weren’t that many men who didn’t return Amanda’s affection if they were lucky enough to get it. Keep in mind that we got plenty of pretty girls in town, and many of them are pretty wealthy cause their families own mines or ranches. There are many pretty faces in town, but you got to use your imagination for the rest. The clothes they wear, well, with the petticoats and corsets, bustles and bloomers, and whatever else they wear underneath them baggy dresses, if you see an ankle you are lucky. When you see one of the gals sashay down the street you gotta guess how much of what you see is dress and underthings and whatnot, and how much is gal. Even the gals who wear britches, usually cause they work on the family ranch, wear them so baggy you can’t tell what’s under there. You never know of what you see is womanly things and how much is woman. One of my friends got married and it wasn’t till the wedding night that he found out his bride was more woman than whatnot and he nearly threw his back out trying to carry her over the threshold. But her daddy owned a mine, so I guess it worked out in the end.
   Now with Amanda you did not have to use your imagination at all. She has this long blonde hair that falls down past her shoulders and sometimes she’ll stick it up under her hat. I think she does that just so she can take her hat off and shake her head and let her blonde tresses shine in the sun. She always wears denim shirts, and God only knows how them buttons don’t pop off. Amanda has a nice set of tits on her, 34C at least, and you can see them jiggle even in that tight shirt. And those blue jeans Amanda wears!  I swear, you can’t tell if those pants are just tight or whether Amanda went and painted herself blue. They are so tight you can see every jiggle of her thighs, and her ass is so wonderfully round it’s like someone took a perfectly round ball and sliced it in half and plastered it to her backside. Amanda has this way of walking where she swings those curvy hips of hers and the wonderfully round globes of her ass just bounce up and down, up and down, one up, one down, one up, one down that it’s like looking at the gears of a perfect Swiss watch where everything moves in unison. It is perfection in motion.
And don’t you think for a minute that Amanda doesn’t know all of this. I told you she wears that fancy two-gun rig, with her guns on her front hips, the barrels pointing towards her treasure box. She says it helps her draw faster, and that she can draw just as fast sitting down. That is bullshit. The real reason is so the gun belt doesn’t ruin the lines of her curves. Amanda doesn’t walk down the street, she struts and she swaggers. Amanda swings those hips and shakes that ass like they are weapons. They are too. Amanda doesn’t even need her guns. If someone wants to come into town and cause trouble all she has to do is wiggle her way into his line of sight and he will happily follow her all the way to jail, his eyes glued to that perfectly shaped ass jiggling up and down as she wiggles along in front of him. Hell, I’ve seen her strut thousands of times and my dick still gets hard every time I see her strut. So does every other male in town.  Most of the gals in town would be offended if they know all the men in town drooled and lusted after them, but not Amanda. She knows it, and she loves it. I think she gets off on knowing that every man in the territory lusts after her body.
Every man in town lusts and desires Amanda. That doesn’t mean that everyone loves her. I said I was a deputy, like my daddy before me. See, when the Andersons came to town, back in the good old bad old days, my daddy would fill in whenever they needed help, like a lot of the ranchers and miners did. We have a ranch some ways out of town, but punching cows was never really my thing. I like being where the action is, and I’m kinda fast, not as fast as Lightning or Big Dick, but I’m alright. It’s easy work, Big Dick and Lightning do all the heavy lifting, and I’m good at it. You see, I’m really good at being seen when I need to be seen and when I don’t need to be seen I just kinda blend in like I’m invisible. I’m good at spotting trouble and defusing things before they get outta hand and I have to get Big Dick. Unlike Lightning who prefers to light the fuse. I think she gets off on the power and she is happy to pull her guns every chance she gets to use that power.
I’m good at being invisible and you might think that is a bad thing, but it helps me see and hear things I might not if I stood out more. For example, I learned how, when the Andersons came to town, the town fathers, who by that time were really desperate to get the town under control again, gave them a blank check. They offered them a small ranch, which they took, and a ten percent interest in a mine, if they were willing to work it. They turned that down; real work just wasn’t in their blood, and instead just said “five percent”.
“Five percent of what?” the Mayor and town council asked.
“Everything. Five percent of everything,” Big Dick said.
At the time, with the gold rush and the cattle drives, well, it must have seemed like a good deal, especially since getting anyone to take the Sheriff’s job, and stay alive, was pert near impossible. And they did clean up the town in pretty short order and while they didn’t eradicate the trouble they certainly did corral it into one end of town. Five percent don’t sound like much, not when you consider how much gold and silver was being dug up and how many heads of cattle there were, but when you think about it that five percent added up pretty quick. They owner five percent of everything; every ounce of ore that came out of the ground, every glass of beer, every drop of whiskey, every head of cattle, every box of nails or bag of feed sold, every whore fucking,  and anything else you can think of. It didn’t take long for Big Dick and Amanda to amass a small fortune.
Now you can call them greedy but when before they came and cleaned up the place, between the cattle rustling, the stagecoach and gold shipments getting robbed, the fighting, the lynching’s, people getting gunned down in the streets, not to mention the property damage the town was losing ten times that. Five percent was a bargain. Decent folk can walk the streets in safety now. Drunken brawls still happen. But it’s all down on the south side of town, and without guns all that happens is some furniture gets broken, but that’s to be expected. And people getting gunned down in the streets has stopped. Now, if there is shooting in the streets, it is usually Big Dick or Amanda doing the shooting.
Usually Amanda.
I’ll tell ya, Amanda loved to whip out her six guns and show off not just her speed but her prowess. That gal could shoot too. She wasn’t just lightning fast she had expert aim too. One of the hotels in town had this big sign that looked kinda like a ship’s wheel, with all these nubs sticking up and Amanda loved to show off by shooting them off. It got to the point the hotel stopped fixing the sign because they knew she would just shoot it up again. Amanda just loved showing off.
I’m sure you’ve heard of the Cactus Creek Dance. Sometimes Big Dick started it but usually it was Amanda. Some fella would rub her the wrong way and in that sing-song voice she would say “Daddy, let’s make him dance!” and daddy and daughter would proceed to fire their guns at these poor guys feet, making him jump and dance around for their amusement. You can get a lot of dancing out a man with 23 bullets. Big Dick, he was smart, he always kept one bullet in one of his guns, just in case. Amanda, well, she wasn’t the sharpest stick, if you know what I mean, and would empty both of her guns making the poor guy dance. Of course, Big Dick still had a bullet or two in his guns, and if the fellas got any ideas the sound of the pump action shotgun I carried usually put an end to them.
Along with that five percent, Big Dick also had the run of the establishments on the south side and he never paid in any of the saloons or whorehouses, all of which he frequented frequently. It is true that most of our work was keeping things contained down there but Big Dick sort of abused the privileges. (For the record I don’t get a percentage of anything and neither does the other full-time deputy. We get paid by the month and pay for our own drinks.)  Now, between the ranchers and the mine owners, and the owners of the hotels, saloons and businesses we have a lot of fairly rich folks around town. Big Dick and Amanda are not the richest, but they are the most powerful. What Big Dick says goes, and if you don’t like it he has those two fast guns of his, and Amanda’s, to convince you otherwise. Both of them do pretty much as they please and there really isn’t anything anyone in town can do about it.
Now, blending in and being invisible like I am, I see and hear a lot of what goes on in town. A lot more than Big Dick or Amanda do because they always make their presence known, and Amanda especially like all eyes to be on her. So, I hear things. Things like maybe it’s time to renegotiate that five percent. Sure, it made sense back in the bad old days, but it has been ten years now and except for the occasional dance class we don’t have much trouble. Cattle rustling and horse thieving is a thing of the past, we deputies guard the gold shipments so they are never touched, and nobody even tries anymore. I always volunteer for guarding the gold shipments because Amanda always leads the way and I love watching the way her soft, round ass bounces up and down in that saddle. Hell, we would be attacked by an army and I wouldn’t even see them coming because my eyes are always glued on those perfectly round globes bouncing up and down.
Anyway, the point is, the town, or the powers that be in town, have reconsidered the five percent on more than one occasion. It was brought up once, to Big Dick, about five years ago, and he just said “Nope!” and that was that. The problem with someone like Big Dick is that when you hire the fastest, toughest, meanest hombre to take over your town and clean it up there really isn’t any way to get him to leave. What are you going to do, call for the second fastest, meanest, toughest gun in the West?  She is already here, and it is Amanda. You could call for number three, but that is not really going to work out either. You called on them because they were the best, and they ain’t leaving until they are ready to leave, and frankly, they ain’t ready yet.
Meanwhile, the town is getting bigger and we have more hotels, schools, churches, and saloons, and everything else that comes with a growing community. Hell, they’re already building the railroad that will hook us up with the rest of the country soon. Have Big Dick and Amanda outlived their usefulness?  I don’t know. Maybe the reason we don’t have much trouble is because they are still here and maybe it’s because the West is quieting down. I do know that every so often some quick draw artist will show up in town, and just as quickly be sent on his way, and while I ain’t saying these guys were sent for, I do hear things, and there are some faces that show utter disappointment when one of these fellas is sent on his way, broken, branded and covered in tar and feathers.
The problem is that nobody tells Amanda what to do, except for Big Dick, and nobody tells Big Dick what to do. It’s been like that since he came to town, and from what I hear, this ain’t the first town it’s happened in. Big Dick has a taste for the ladies, there is no doubt about that, and he likes his meat on the dark side, if you know what I mean. I always wondered what Amanda’s mother looked like because even though Big Dick will stick his big dick in anything that moves he likes his ladies dark. Don’t get me wrong, he will fuck any woman of any color, but he really fancies the dark types. Black girls for sure, but especially Spanish ladies. There was a funny story about a little China Doll that worked at Madame Orr’s. She was beautiful, like a little porcelain doll, and tiny, not even five feet tall, and Big Dick paid her a visit and dropped his pants and when she turned around and saw Big Dick’s big dick she fainted straight away.
Not all stories about Big Dick are funny. There was a gambler who passed through town a while back and I heard him tell a story about Big Dick, back when he was running a town down on the Texas/Mexican border. He came across this beautiful woman, she was Mexican or Spanish, a real fancy type. She was out for a walk one night and Big Dick came across her and just had to have her. She said she was Spanish royalty, he said she was a Mexican whore. It didn’t really matter because he dragged her in an alley and fucked the shit out of her. She found him the next day, ready to kill him, but his deputies grabbed her. Good thing too, she had a knife and she was ready to cut his balls off. She had a daughter about Amanda’s age at the time, around ten or eleven years old, and Big Dick had that woman stripped and then tarred and feathered, right there in front of her crying daughter. Amanda, who was already a holy terror and something of a bully, took part, gleefully slapping a paddle of hot tar between the woman’s naked ass cheeks, and calling her a “Dirty Mexican whore!” before they ran her and her daughter out of town on a rail. About a week later a small army of vaqueros showed up looking for Big Dick, a couple dozen of them at least, but he had wisely packed up Amanda and moved on to parts unknown. Big Dick is big, tough and mean but he isn’t stupid and he knew that it didn’t matter if she was royalty or not, she probably had relatives over the border who might take offense at what he had done. Now I ain’t condoning what he did but I understand it. One look and he had to have that woman. I understand that. I feel the same way every time I see Amanda’s round ass cheek bouncing up and down in those tight jeans. If she wasn’t Big Dick’s daughter, and if she wasn’t so quick with those guns, well, who knows what might happen. But I know Amanda, and even though she’s getting up there in years, she still has that great figure, and that fantastic ass, and she gets in heat like any cat she is the one who does the choosing.
I can always tell when that filly is in heat. Amanda’s normal gait, in addition to swinging those hips and shaking that ass, is a cocky swagger. When she is in heat there is an added smug arrogance in her stride, like a tiger on the prowl, because she knows she is going to get what she wants. Amanda has her pick of the herd, and she’ll ride that cowpoke like a bucking bronco. Sometimes I head out to my daddy’s ranch to sleep and sometimes I stay in town, in one of the back room at the jailhouse. I’ve seen her drag them into one of the cells, and just fuck those cowboys raw. Amanda can’t get enough, and I pity the man who can’t keep up with her because he might just find himself chained to the bars while Amanda heats up the lightning brand and straps on her fake cock. I ain’t saying it is right but there is something about seeing that woman, beautiful blonde Amanda, strapping on a cock and watching her big titties bouncing and her round ass jiggling as she cornholes the poor bastard that couldn’t satisfy her. I ain’t saying it’s right, or sexy, but damn, what a woman!
You know, we do have some pretty gals in town, and not just the gals down on the south side in the saloons and whorehouses, but ain’t none of them like Amanda. It wasn’t just how beautiful she was but the way she carried herself with that cocky swagger. Everybody stared when she was on the street, men, women and children alike, although sometimes you would see a mother cover the eyes of their sons. She would come riding into town, at a full gallop, her big tits and round ass all bouncing and shaking and it was a sight to behold. It wasn’t just the men who were staring, although they were the ones doing all the drooling. Many a young gal would just stare at Amanda, mouths open in awe, watching that round ass bounce up and down, or her tits being all jiggly. You should see them, especially the first time they laid eyes on that blonde beauty, mouths and eyes wide open in shock, and as she strutted away these gals would look down at their own less-than-impressive chests and look back at Amanda with a mixture of envy, awe and jealousy.
Yes sir, Amanda was one fine looking woman, and did she ever know it. It wasn’t just the skin-tight clothes or the way she wiggled and bounced either. Amanda wore those tight denim shirts, with enough buttons left undone to show a hint of those big, soft tits of hers, and she had a habit of bending over giving you just a peek at the treasure underneath that shirt. Another thing she liked to do, particularly when she had a big audience, was to bend over and pick up something from the street or just to duct off her boots, bending at the waist and stretching the already skin-tight jeans across her broad backside, and I swear she would give her hips a little shake, just to tease the boys. I wonder how many of them boys ran home to their wives, screwing them silly while thinking about Amanda, imagining it was her they was fucking. I wonder how many babies were born just because Amanda made their daddy’s dicks hard.
That’s the thing about Amanda. She may have been beautiful, and desirable, and made every man’s dick hard, all of which she knew, but Amanda was not exactly beloved, which, not being the sharpest stick, Amanda had no clue about. The men may have lusted after Amanda, but they didn’t exactly love her. It wasn’t like anyone was thinking about marrying that gal and settling down with her, except maybe me. No, most of the men saw her for what she was, a big ole cock-tease. Amanda got off on the idea that all the men lusted after her, which was true, and wanted her, which wasn’t. They didn’t want her, they just wanted to fuck her. And the truth is, if she wasn’t so fast with those six-guns of hers, and more importantly, if her daddy wasn’t Big Dick, well, she might have ended up like Big Dick’s Mexican whore down in Texas; fucked in every hole in the dirt of some back alley.
Yes sir, the men pretty much saw her as what she was, a cock-tease, and the women folk, well they thought even less of her. Whore, harlot, tramp and slut were the usual words the ladies used. The ladies in town actually had a higher opinion of the whores in town, who made their living selling their bodies, than they did of Amanda. Being invisible and all I overheard many a conversation about Amanda and I don’t think I ever head one of the ladies say a kind word about her.
“I heard she dyes her hair. She isn’t a real blonde,” one would say.
“She belongs on South Street.”
“They wouldn’t have her. She isn’t good enough even for them!”
“Someone should tar and feather her!”
“I heard she spends two days sitting in a tub shrinking those britches of hers, just so she can show off everything!”
Now that last one is exactly true. It isn’t two days. It’s more like an afternoon. I know because sometimes I ‘ve had to boil the water and add it to the tub she sits in so she can shrink her jeans until they are skin-tight.
The men in town might have dreamed about Amanda, and lusted after her, but they didn’t really like her, and the ladies, well, they actively hated her. I think that the only comfort the ladies in town had was that while they may not have had Amanda’s pretty face, or big tits, or round ass, or shapely curves, they were something that Amanda would never be-ladies. Amanda may have been a woman (and what a woman!) but she would never be a lady.
Of course, all of this is moot. No matter what the good men and women of Cactus Creek thought about Amanda she was still the Deputy Sheriff, and Big Dick’s daughter, and until they decided to move on there wasn’t anything anyone could do about either of them. The people of the town would have to lump it and like it.
That’s what they did, for a long time. Big Dick and Amanda kept the peace and the town prospered and grew. We went from what was once a tent city to having several thousand people, dozens of city blocks, not to mention the mines, ranches and farms. We have schools and churches, two banks, hotels, manufacturing, you name it. Hell, even South Street has expanded, and we have three or four dozen business down there, between the saloons, whorehouses and whatnot. And on the Northside, they have already begun construction on what they figure is going to be the new train station. Yes Sir, things are looking good.
Of course, not everything is prefect and not everyone prospers. Take South Street, for example. It sits at the base of a hill, and the water sort of drains down onto South Street and in the Spring, or after a hard rain it is more swamp than street, and the ground is always muddy. Hell, that was why they had to build the buildings off the ground. It doesn’t help that they put the stables and stockyards down that end of town, and that mud you are stepping in ain’t always just mud, of you know what I mean.
There is something about the South side of town that, well, it just ain’t no good. I don’t mean the saloons and whorehouses, they do just fine. But if you were to stand in the middle of South Street and look either East or West, well, the land there just ain’t no good. Some land is just plain old bad, I guess. If you look West, outside of town, there are thousands of acres of land that just ain’t no good for anything. There’s a half dozen small spreads and a couple of big ones that nobody has ever been able to do anything with. The mines that were down that way played out a long time ago, and the ground just ain’t good for anything. It ain’t no good for ranching or farming or anything else, and Lord knows people have tried. Going East ain’t much better, nothing but cactus and prairie dogs and I bet even they aren’t happy about being there. I know who really isn’t happy about all that and that is Mr. Perkins, down at the bank, who has been stuck with the deeds to that land. So many people came and went on the land that people just stopped trying after four or five years.
It’s funny how in life some things come round in a circle. Remember how I said this town was founded on a sort of land fraud?  Maybe it’s in the town’s blood but about three years ago we got us an influx of immigrants. Not all at once, mind you, but over about a years’ time we got us our first Frenchman, a German lady, two Swedes, and two or three Spaniards. Some were widow women, some were families, and if they was white and American it might have been a different story but since they were foreigners and talked funny, and the Spanish ones looked and talked funny, I don’t think Mr. Perkins lost any sleep unloading that land to the west.
Then, about a year ago, Perkins managed to get rid of the eastern land too. Some businesswoman from back East bought it. The story goes that she had passed through town some time back and liked the look of the place and it took her time to save up enough money and she bought it up. People figured she wasn’t much of a business woman but hey, if you’re willing to buy it Mr. Perkins was sure willing to sell it. She wasn’t even in town, she did it all through correspondence. Mr. Perkins, being the shrewd banker that he was, also managed to unload a few other parcels of land to the woman, mostly on or near South Street, including a couple of burnt out saloons, and most of a city block that was on the good side of town, but adjacent to South Street. Nobody ever built anything down there because of the riotous nature of South Street. It was so close it might as well have been part of South Street anyway. Maybe she was related to Amanda because it sounded like she wasn’t the sharpest stick either.
This businesswoman was also supposed to be Spanish royalty, from Spain by way of Puerto Rico. I had to look that up, it is an island in the Caribbean. I had to look that up too. Her name was Consuela de la Vega and all eyes were on her when she arrived, stepping off the stage in a tight red dress that showed off her ample bosom, with a lace hat that matched the dress, and showed a hint of black, luxurious curls, and a matching parasol. It was love and hate at first sight. Big Dick took one look and at this dark-skinned beauty and fell head over heels for her, and Amanda, well, she immediately hated her.
Unlike some people in town, like Big Dick and Amanda, I am man enough to admit when I am wrong. Well, I was wrong when I said that maybe Consuela wasn’t the sharpest stick. Looking back on it now I think she might have been the sharpest stick of all, but more about that later. At the moment all eyes were on that Spanish beauty. Especially Big Dick’s. The door to the stagecoach opened and out popped that parasol, followed by Consuela. Now I already told you about Amanda and the pair or .44s she wears on her hips. That ain’t nothin’ compared to the pair of 44s Consuela wore on her chest. Her dress was red, to match her parasol, and fringed with black lace, baring her shoulders and offering just a hint of those big tits. But when she began to step out, bent forward, you could see those big tits, 44D at least, and all eyes were glued on them. I guess because it was just so unexpected, seeing her emerge from the coach, but all eyes was on her and they were all open as wide as saucers, even Amanda’s. I swear I saw Amanda, staring at her all wide eyed, then look down at her own ample chest and when she raised her head there was something in her eyes. It was shock, awe and maybe a hint of jealousy. It’s usually Amanda that everyone is gawking at and for probably the first time since puberty hit her Amanda was not the center of attention and you could see that she didn’t like it.
Big Dick, on the other hand, took one look at that Mexican beauty and he fell hard. I’ve seen that look before. I know it well. It is the same look you see around town when Amanda is strutting around, shaking her tits and ass in everyone’s face. Big Dick’s eyes were opened wide, and the only thing opened wider was his mouth. We was going to need a shovel to pick it up off the street. His tongue was hanging out and he was drooling and his dick was getting hard. I never seen him like this before. He was stammering like a schoolboy.
“Why Sheriff, is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me,” Consuela laughed.
Consuela sort of ruined the moment when she tripped getting out of the coach. I guess you could say she is something of a klutz. There was no reason to worry because Big Dick was right there to catch her. She complimented him on how fast he was, and how big and strong he was as well. Big Dick was tripping over himself, trying to tell her how welcome she was, and how beautiful she was. He was like a shy little boy talking to a girl for the first time.
Big Dick caught her and set her down and all eyes were still on her. That dress was all lace and fringe around the edges, but clung to her body like a second skin. It was tight in all the right places and showed off her curves and what curves they were!  Consuela had an hourglass figure and the sand was in all the right places, and boy did that dress show off her thick, sexy body. Now when I say think I don’t mean fat, I mean she look thick and strong, like she worked for a living.
Now the funniest part of all this, even funnier than watching Big Dick trip over his own tongue, was watching Amanda. Amanda is used to being the center of attention, used to being the one that everyone stared at, and lusted over, and nobody was paying her any mind. She pulled out all her tricks, stretching and yawning, and sticking out her big chest but nobody looked. Why would they?  Compared to Consuela and her 44s Amanda looked downright flat chested. Playing her hole card Amanda resorted to turning around and bending over to show off her skin-tight jeans stretched across her broad backside but still nobody paid her no mind.
“Lookee here, we got us a new sign boys,” Amanda announced before shipping out her pistols and shooting off a dozen nubs. After holstering her guns, and giving her ass a little shake, Amanda was shocked to see that nobody was paying her any attention.
Except for Consuela, who, after telling Big Dick how big, strong and manly he was, said, “Is that your son?  You must be so proud!”
“Son! Son!  Why you dirty Mexican who…” Amanda fumed.
Big Dick cut her off. “Why this here is my daughter Amanda. Come say hello Amanda.”
Amanda did as her father said, but I could see that inside she was boiling mad. She might even have shot her down if she hadn’t already used all her bullets on the sign, Amanda is used to being the center of attention, and she did not like Consuela stealing her spotlight, and Amanda had always had Big Dick wrapped around her little finger. Well now he was wrapped around Consuela’s little finger and Amanda didn’t like it. But there was nothing she could do about it.
It’s funny how things work out. Big Dick didn’t usually meet the stage, unless he was expecting something or someone, and nobody knew Consuela was coming, and the only reason he was anywhere near it was because one of the immigrants, I can’t remember if it was one of the Swedes or the Frenchie, had stopped him in the street and even then, if it hadn’t been one of the female foreigners he might have kept on walking. Fate, I guess. Whatever it was, Big Dick was in love. I know because he had the same look on his face the minute he saw Consuela that I had the first time I saw Amanda. Do you need more proof?  Consuela had about a dozen or so bags with her, the rest of her things coming by wagon, and if Big Dick wasn’t in love how do you explain the entire Sheriff’s office, Big Dick and Amanda included, marching behind Consuela and carrying her bags. All Consuela carried was her parasol and her fine figure. Amanda was a bitching and a cussing the whole time while we followed Consuela and Big Dick, who walked arm in arm. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Why, if you wanted to rob one of the banks this would have been a perfect time because we all had our hands full. Even if our hands weren’t full of luggage you still could have robbed the town because all eyes were on Consuela. That dress of hers was tight in all the right places, and that woman had a bigger and rounder ass than even Amanda, and her hips, well, the way she swung those hips she had even more of a wiggle than Amanda and I, for one, could not take my eyes off the round globes of her ass as they shook and shimmied with each wiggle. When she wasn’t bitching I caught Amanda staring at Spanish ass too, eyes wide with amazement.
We must have made quite a sight, marching through town down to South Street. Consuela, you see, was the proud new owner of the Cactus Café, so called because the previous owner had a fenced in garden of cactus. If you stood in the middle of the street off to the left was Madame Orr’s Gentleman’s Club and Emporium, and next to that was Madame Orr’s pig sty. Madame Orr was known for her pigs (the animal kind as well as the whore kind), and the pig roasts she has twice a year. Next to that, right in the center of the street, was the Cactus Café and what was left of the Longbranch saloon, both in one building, and on the other side was what you might call off street parking, it was sort of an alley were people tied up their horses, full of mud and manure.
Consuela led the way up the steps to the two saloons and stopped when she got to the top. I said how she was kind of a klutz, well, she stopped and turned to thank us all for carrying her bags, and as she turned, the parasol still over her shoulder, some of us had to jump to get out of the way or get smacked with that parasol. Amanda was right behind her and I was behind Amanda and tried to jump back but bounced off me and the bags she was carting made her way off balance and she wound up tripping over her own feet and flying ass over elbows over the railing and into the cactus patch, landing right on her big, sexy ass and landing right on a pile of cactus!
“Yeeeowwww!”
Consuela was very apologetic, and Amanda was fuming. For about two seconds, till the pain hit her and she let out a howl. She couldn’t get up and we had to reach in and pull her to her feet. Amanda was hopping around, trying to rub out the pain in her ass and only making it worse, in both her ass and her hands, which got scratched up on the tiny cactus spikes sticking out her ass. Amanda was hopping up and down like her feet was on fire, but it wasn’t her feet that was on fire. She kept on crying “Owowowowowowow…Daddy!...owowowowowow…”
“It was an accident,” Big Dick said, to Amanda’s horror. “Just go on over to Doc’s and he’ll fix you up,” he added, holding is arm out for Consuela to take as he led her inside.
I had never seen it before but Amanda was crying. I can’t rightly say if it was because there were dozens of tiny spikes sticking out of her ass, or because Big Dick ignored her pain for Consuela. Walking only made things worse so we ended up carrying her over to the Doc’s office, but he was out delivering a baby or a cow or something and that’s how I ended up with Amanda laying on the table, ass us, while I plucked them spikes out with a  pair of pliers.
Poor Amanda. Her wore her pants so tight she couldn’t get them off without making things worse, and giving herself more pain, so it was up to me to relieve her pain. She couldn’t sit still and you should have seen those big, round globes, bouncing and wiggling all over the place. Of course, I had to run my hands over those sweet ass cheeks, just to check for spikes, mind you, and yes, my dick was hard the whole time. I won’t say what I wanted to do, I’m sure you can figure that out for yourself, and I sure took my time plucking those spikes out. Amanda was squealing and crying the whole time. Like I said, I took my time, and when I was done I made sure to run my hands over those glorious ass cheeks, just checking for spikes mind you, and I was just getting to the part where I peeled them pants down and got down to the naked flesh when the stupid doctor showed up and shooed me out of the office so he could take over. Shit! I mean. Poor Amanda!  Not only did she have to give up her skin-tight pants for a few days she had to sit on a pillow!
Bill spent most of the day with Consuela, helping her to get settled in and then taking her on a tour of the town while Amanda spent the day either sitting on her pillow or laying on her belly, pouting. I offered to put the salve on her ass but she was feeling surly and just said “Fuck you, Eric!”  I felt bad for the poor thing. Her ass welled up a size or two and Amanda wears her pants so tight that she couldn’t put them back on. She limped home from the Doc’s office with a blanket wrapped around her waist. She was walking real funny too. As you can imagine the ladies in town, who didn’t like her to begin with, snickered and giggled at the sight. I hear some of them, behind closed doors, fell on the floor with laughter.
Big Dick and Consuela continued their tour of the town and came into the jail a few hours later, and Consuela clearly felt bad for Amanda, she apologized over and over.
“Lo no siento que sucia a puta poco,” Consuela said, hand to her heart.
Amanda looked at her with a confused look on her face.
“I am so sorry,” Consuela said in her thick accent. “Sometimes I forget to speak English. It means I am so terribly sorry my pretty little puta, I mean princess.”
Amanda was still grumpy but she cheered up a little and said “Hear that Daddy, I’m a pretty puta!”
Consuela offered to make it up to Amanda and invited her to join Big Dick and Consuela when they went riding the next morning.
“No thanks!” Amanda growled and rolled back on her belly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess you won’t be riding for a while, will you.”  She seemed genuinely apologetic but I could almost see the steam coming out of Amanda’s ears.
Consuela was going dress shopping and left Big Dick at the jail. Once she was gone Amanda let her real feelings be known.
“I can’t believe you are running around with that dirty Mexican whore!” she snapped.
“Be nice, Amanda,” Big Dick smiled, “that might be your next mother.”
“What?” Amanda screamed, rolling over and sitting up and instantly regretting it. “owowowowowowowowowowwwwwwwwwww!” she squealed, immediately flopping back on her belly and crying “Daddy! Daddy!” but he had already left and was out searching for Consuela.
Now usually the way Amanda was crying for Daddy would have had him twisted around her little finger. But he was long gone and there wasn’t anything Amanda could do about it since she couldn’t squeeze her swollen ass into her jeans and she didn’t even own a dress. Amanda could go running around town with a blanket wrapped around herself, especially since she was walking so funny. She pretty much spent the night on her belly, steaming and scheming.
Amanda was feeling better in the morning. Either that or she was still just so plum mad she ignored the pain. Either way, Amanda managed to cram her still slightly swollen ass into her jeans, hoping to catch Big Dick before he left for that morning ride with Consuela so she could have a stern daughter/daddy talk with him. I could see she wasn’t back to her old self yet. Amanda was walking a little gingerly and she didn’t have her usual cocky swagger. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Big Dick and Consuela in front of the Cactus Café.
First of all, Amanda was about to blow her top when she saw that Big Dick had provided Consuela with a horse-Amanda’s horse!  But before she could tear into them her mouth dropped open when she saw Consuela. Consuela carried her usual parasol, black to match her outfit, which consisted of a black Flamenco hat with a rose on the brim, a black blouse whose buttons somehow managed to contain those huge tits of hers and not split the seams, and a pair of black britches that rivaled Amanda’s for tightness. She said they were European riding pants and they were made of some kind of stretchy material that showed off every curve of her luscious body. Consuela had plump, meaty hips and that big, fat Spanish ass and when she mounted the horse all eyes, particularly Big Dick’s, were on it. He watched it shake and jiggle and licked his lips.
Amanda was jealous of Consuela, that much was obvious. I think at first it was just because the Spanish beauty stole her thunder, and was getting the attention that Amanda usually had. The men in town were drooling over the foreign beauty, which was bad enough, but the idea that her own father was first in line just pushed Amanda over the edge. Amanda was really steaming over the idea that her father was chasing that filly like a lovesick schoolboy. It would have been bad enough if Consuela was the same age as Big Dick, but she was closer to Amanda’s age, give or take a few years, and that infuriated her.
Now I know that I am not exactly unbiased, but looking at the two women side by side I can say that they are both beautiful. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder and maybe it comes down to taste. If you like your women dark and exotic, Consuela would win, hands down. If you like them light and blonde, Amanda would be the one. If you like big tits, Amanda fits the bill, but if you like really big tits, well, Consuela would win handily. At 5’9” and 145 pounds, Amanda was taller than the 5’6” Consuela, but they probably weighed the same. Consuela was thick and strong looking and hell, her tits probably weighed 10 pounds each. Amanda was taller and had long, shapely legs while Consuela had shorter, thicker legs. They were strong legs, but you could see the thighs were a little on the thick side and rubbed together when she walked, which Amanda’s beautiful legs did not. I don’t think I’m being biased when I say Amanda had the nicer ass. Consuela’s ass was bigger, no doubt, and her hips were a lot plumper too but Amanda’s ass was so perfect and round.
Of course, what I think doesn’t really matter. It didn’t even matter what Big Dick had to say about it. Right now, it was what Amanda thought that mattered as she stood there in shock and awe, watching Consuela ride away with her father. Consuela didn’t know it but war had just been declared.
“I’m gonna run that whore outta town and all the way back to Mexico!” I heard Amanda mutter under her breath.
Looks like our boring little town isn’t going to be boring for much longer was what I thought.
I didn’t really think that Big Dick had any ideas about marrying Consuela. I told this to Amanda too. I told her he was probably joking and he said stuff like that all the time when a new whore came to town. He would do what he always did; fuck em and forget em. Hell, he never even got the name of some of the whores. That was understandable, of course, since he fucked most of them and that was just too many to keep track of.
Amanda just sat there on her big pillow, thinking and scheming. I already told you how Amanda ain’t the sharpest stick around. Now I ain’t saying she she’s an idiot or that she’s feeble-minded or anything, Lord knows we got some of them around town, and she can read and write, but, to be honest, she’s kinda stupid sometimes. Most of the time she acts before she thinks, and when she sits down and concentrates like she was doing now, well, you can see her thinking. It’s like you can almost see the wheels turning. Brow furrowed, her face gets all scrunched up and you can tell she’s thinking hard. Amanda would suddenly beam, smile and sometimes giggle as an idea popped into her mind. Who knows, maybe the good Lord said I gave you more than enough beauty, you ain’t gonna need no brains.
Big Dick and Consuela were gone most of the day, which didn’t please Amanda at all, and when they returned and Big Dick came into the Sheriff’s office he announced that he came to an understanding with Consuela and he really did plan on marrying her. Amanda just about blew her top but then they had a private conversation which I wasn’t a part of. I did hear a few things, like “looking to the future”, “our future”, “wealthy widow woman” and “set for life”. It may have been love and lust at first sight for Big Dick, Consuela was his type after all, and he may have lusted after her big tits and big ass, but it was her big bank account that sealed the deal.
During that day that they spent together Big Dick made his feelings known, especially once he found out she had money, and Consuela made her feelings known as well. She wasn’t opposed to the idea, but if Big Dick wanted her he was going to have to court her properly, and, of course, she could not make a decision until her daughter met him. She was attending school back East or something.
Big Dick always had a blind spot when it came to his little girl, and no matter how old Amanda got she would always be his little girl. Of course, Amanda wasn’t so little anymore. Big Dick must have been a teenager when he knocked up her mama, and he was in his 50’s now and Amanda was in her 40s. She was still a damn fine-looking woman, not just for her age but for any age, but she wasn’t a spring chicken, and Big Dick was hinting that it was time she started looking for a husband, preferably one with money and property who would take care of her. Amanda was all sweet and syrupy and Big Dick was pleased, but like I said, he as a blind spot when it comes to her. I could see those wheels were turning.
 Big Dick, who spent most of his professional time and all of his free time down at the saloon and workhouses down on South Street still did so after meeting Consuela, but now he spent it all in the Cactus Café. No more whores for Big Dick, not if he was going to court Consuela. He was always the gentleman around her, which made those of us who knew him wonder what had happened to the real Big Dick.
The town was having a big party in about a week’s time. They have them every so often and this time there was really something to celebrate. Some fellas from the railroad came through town and had a talk with the Mayor and the town council and said how some surveyors would be coming through soon and making plans for how to link us up to the major lines. The railroad people have been through town before, about five years back or so, and did a survey but the town just wasn’t big or important enough back then. They been sending someone through, on the sly, once a year to check out which towns would best suit their needs, and I guess we finally grew enough, we got several thousand-people living in and around town now, and within a year or so we would have the railroad here in town. The town would get bigger, and richer. Well, certain folks would anyway, the same folks who always get richer. Life works like that, I guess.
You can imagine my shock about a week later when Amanda grabbed my hand and said “Come on, Eric, you’re takin’ me to the party!”  I wasn’t about to object to escorting the prettiest gal in town. Big Dick was there, escorting Consuela, and while he’s been spending every moment he could with Consuela, Amanda had kept her distance and had not even laid eyes on the Spanish beauty in over a week. I expected fireworks when they met but Amanda was sweet as sugar. She was so sweet that I wondered what she was up to.
It was a fine party. Madame Orr provided the meat for the pig roast, the food was good, and there was music and dancing. They had a shooting contest, which Big Dick and Amanda did not participate in, because of their expertise, and there were lots of game and such and everyone had a good time. I lost track of Amanda after a while and looked of her in the huge crowd, hoping nobody was dancing with my girl, but I found her after a half hour or so. The party would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for the fire.
We were at the pavilion on the Northside of town and saw the smoke, and it looked like it was coming from South Street. Everybody rushed down and damn if it wasn’t the Cactus Café on fire. When most of these buildings were built they were all wood and a fire in town could easily spread and wipe out the town. We were lucky though, because the Cactus Café has Madame Orr’s pig pen on one side and Horse Alley on the other. I guess you could call it a shit hole since it had pig shit on one side and horse shit on the other.
That wasn’t the lucky part. The luck came because this time of year there is always a fire truck parked at the end of town. We have a volunteer fire department and there is usually one down on the Southside, left there because of the thick muddy streets, and this time of year they use it to clean out the stockyards to keep the smell from getting too bad. The other bit of luck was that South Street is never empty, and not everyone came to the party and there is always someone down there, be it anti-social people who like to drink alone, die hard drinkers, whores who were enjoying a day off, and simpletons who sleep in the streets. One of them saw the fire and you can say what you want about the people on South Street, I know plenty of people look down their noses at them, but you can count on them in a pinch. By the time we got down there they pert near had the fire out. No one died or even got hurt, and they saved part of the building, but the bar was pretty much destroyed.
Funny thing about that fire, and our town. Cactus Creek, well, it’s like we got two towns, the good, decent town of Cactus Creek, and then we got South Street. Most folk, and you know who I mean, the good, decent folk of the town, well, they don’t get too broken up about a saloon getting all burnt up. They kinda look down their noses at South Street and the people who work and live down there, so they ain’t gonna lose any sleep or shed any tears cause there’s one less saloon in town.  We got plenty more anyway. On the other hand, fire has a way of bringing people together. In a town made up of wood buildings fire is everybody’s enemy. It was lucky the wind wasn’t blowing that day cause one gust of wind and it ain’t just one saloon it is two and maybe three, and if the wind blows in the wrong direction it could be the whole town. And even though we got one of those fancy fire pumps, the kind on a wagon where you get three or four people on each side working the pump, and it can handle one building, if you get it early enough, I don’t know if it can handle two buildings. It sure as hell can’t handle more than that.
More than just that people felt bad for Consuela. She was a widow woman, for one thing, and for another she just moved into town. Not to mention she owned a bunch of property in town now and the bank sure didn’t want it back. So, the people in town, even though they didn’t really know her yet, felt bad for Consuela. Most of them anyway. All except one.
The town folk, well they all got their own ideas how that fire got started. And me, being a law enforcement professional and all, well, I ain’t about to go around accusing anyone with what they call evidence, you know, proof. So, I ain’t saying the fire was set deliberately, but I know that when people first saw that smoke and yelled “Fire!” I was looked straight at Amanda, and I swear I saw her smile. When we was all running down towards the smoke I know I heard Amanda say “I sure hope it ain’t nobody we know,” and giggle. And the way she was consoling Consuela, telling her bad she felt and all and how Consuela had lost everything, well, her words said one thing, but her eyes told a different story. I could see downright delight in them. One more thing, I leant in to whisper something in her ear and I swear I smelled kerosene.
“Poor thing,” Amanda said, “looks like you lost everything. I guess you’ll have to leave town now.”  I could see her fighting not to smile.
Consuela didn’t miss a beat.
“I was thinking about tearing that old place down anyway and building a better place. This just made up my mind. In fact, Mr. Mayor, I would like to have a word with you about that.”  She took the Mayor’s arm and strolled away with him to have that word.
Amanda’s face dropped like a horny cowboy’s pants in a whorehouse and she stood there, dumbfounded, with a stupid, confused look on her face.
“But...but...but...but…” she stammered, looking at the burnt-out saloon and then at Consuela strolling with the Mayor, and then back to the saloon.
“I know you’re upset about your new momma’s place burning down and all,” Big Dick said, “but don’t you worry. We’re gonna find out what happened.”
There was a moment I saw panic on Amanda’s face. But then she smiled and cooed, “You leave that to me, Daddy, I’ll find out who did this.”
“I always could count on you, baby girl.”
Big Dick always did have that blind spot when it came to Amanda.
Not only did that fire not chase Consuela out of town, it might have been the best thing that could have happened. Mr. Perkins at the bank felt so bad, or maybe so worried she might pull out, that he gave her a deal on another block on buildings, opposite the block she already owned. Now, if you stood at the spot where Main Street meets South Street and looked straight ahead you would see the burnt-out saloon. Consuela now owned the buildings on both the East and West sides of Main Street, plus all that land outside of town where she was going to build her ranch. She probably owned more land in town than any other individual. Consuela owned all those buildings and she had them all torn down.
Now it took me most of the next year to find all this out but I’m guessing that Big Dick found out most of it that first day when he went riding with Consuela. You see, Consuela is what they call a forward-thinking woman. Consuela got her start traveling the world and she moved all through Europe, Asia and even Africa before moving on to Puerto Rico. Now I don’t know about the whole royalty thing and I wasn’t sure s she was Mexican, Puerto Rican, Spanish or some other kind of what they call Latina, but I now she was sure one smart and sexy woman. From Puerto Rico she moved to New York City and opened her first brothel. That’s a fancy name for a whorehouse. Consuela’s place was all dressed up and fancy, and her girls weren’t just for fucking they had this thing where they made a man feel special. Then they fucked them. It was real successful and New York City is a big place, with lots of people and she opened a second one and then a third and pretty soon she had half a dozen of them. She also had these other “special” houses; she called them “Gentleman’s Clubs”. Say you are a rich, successful businessman, with a wife and family, well, you don’t want to be seen going into no whorehouse, even if it has a fancy name. But if you belong to a gentleman’s club, with a selective membership, that just happens to be staffed by pretty ladies, who’s to say what goes on behind closed doors.
Consuela understands people, especially men. She knows that some of them have certain tastes, sometimes peculiar tastes, and she is there to feed that hunger. Some men, well some men prefer blondes, or brunettes, or redheads. Some like big tits, some like big asses, some like both. Some of them rich boys want a little spice in their life and maybe want a xxxxxxx girl or a chink or whatever. Consuela could provide that. She understood that some of these boys, well they had things that society didn’t approve of, like laying with black, or Latin or Asian girls. She didn’t care what you did, as long as you paid. Maybe you want a pretty little blonde girl. Maybe you want a pretty little blonde girl to dress up like Little Bo Peep. Maybe you want a pretty little blonde girl and you want to dress up like Little Bo Peep. She could make that happen. Maybe you want some dark meat. Maybe you want a gal with a nice big ass so you could spank it before you fucked her in the ass. No problem. Maybe you want a gal with a nice big ass to spank you before she fucked you in the ass. No problem, although it costs more. Some of these men just wanted someone to hold them and make em feel special and whisper sweet nothings into their ears, or who they could whisper sweet nothings to. Consuela could provide that too. There’s a lot of rich women in New York City too and society says there are things they can’t have, like maybe a Latin lover, or a big, black Mandingo who will treat they like goddesses, or treat them like shit before giving them a good fuck. Maybe these ladies didn’t want a big black man to please them but a pretty black lady to do the deed. Consuela provided it all, never judging anyone, as long as they paid. She made a lot of new friends, high placed and connected friends. By the time she left New York City she had half dozen brothels, another eight or nine of those Gentleman’s Clubs, and a few more houses to serve the ladies.
She did all this before she was even 25 years old.
Then she moved on to Boston and opened two more, then Philadelphia (3), and a half dozen more on the way South to New Orleans. That was where she really hit her stride, and by this point Consuela had her recipe for success. She knew what the men, and the ladies, wanted and was happy to provide it and if you had a taste for the kinky or bizarre, well she was the woman to see. Consuela had a string of houses in New Orleans, including Gentlemen’s Clubs, Ladies Clubs, brothels and plain old whorehouses. By now she had a system too, and she would send out one of her girls to open up new whorehouse in a new city, to sort of test the waters, and if there was potential she would move in and expand business. Even if it turned out there wasn’t a fortune to be made in those towns Consuela was still part owner of a whorehouse and making money. By the time she moved on from New Orleans she had two dozen houses up and down the Mississippi. By the time she moved on to Texas she had more than 100 houses of all types east of the Mississippi. She had another 100 throughout the West by the time she hit Cactus Creek, and she was, in fact, a silent partner of Madame Orr.
Cactus Creek was going and she must have seen potential to make some real money because she moved here and took personal control. Consuela made a fortune on her whorehouses, I mean brothels, but she was smart about other things too. Take, for example, all the buildings she had torn down. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with them, except for the burnt-out saloon, it was just that she had lived in some big cities and saw what fire could do and she rebuilt all them buildings using bricks. Where did she get the bricks?  There was all that worthless land southeast and southwest of town, the land that was no good for farming or ranching. Turns out it was because there was too much clay in the ground, clay that could be used to make bricks. Consuela went and built a brick kiln, a brick factory, and for the next year I swear half the people in town worked for Consuela. There were people working making bricks, digging up clay, and building buildings. The burnt-out Cactus Café became the beautiful Spanish Rose, complete with a veranda on the first floor and an open-air gallery on the second floor. Across the way, right on Main Street, she built a three-story brick hotel and a series of storefronts, and across the street she built a theater and more storefronts, all with bricks. She even got the Mayor and town council to pass a city ordinance that because of the risk of fire that any new buildings had to be made of bricks.
Naturally, all of this drove Amanda crazy! 
Yes Sir, the more successful Consuela got the more it infuriated Amanda. Brick buildings were starting to pop up here and there around town, including our very own Gentlemen’s Club. I hear tell the Mayor and town council, and most of the prominent bankers and businessmen were all members. Now, you could still build with wood outside the city proper so Consuela went and bought herself a huge chuck of land right outside of town and built what you call a residential neighborhood. Wood was OK out there because she built them houses with nice big yards, and planted grass she had shipped in special, and folks could have themselves a pretty little home and own a little property, and they was far enough apart that if one caught fire it wouldn’t spread like it did downtown. Some folks said that maybe she wasn’t so smart after all because she didn’t make much profit off these homes, but money wasn’t the only thing Consuela was pocketing. She might not have built up her bank account much with this idea, but she sure earned a lot of goodwill with the townsfolk. Most decent folk in town didn’t have a high opinion of the people who worked and lived on South Street. They didn’t really hate them, but they did look down their noses at them. All except Miss Consuela, that’s what they called her now, “Miss” Consuela.
Amanda didn’t know it but the reason Consuela became so well liked was due, in no small part, to Amanda. Amanda hated Consuela, which was no secret because the whole town could see it from the way Amanda talked and acted around her, and the folks in town didn’t like Amanda, so they took Consuela’s side. The only people in town who couldn’t see it were Big Dick, who has a blind spot where Amanda is concerned, and apparently Consuela, who put it down to Amanda not wanting her momma’s memory erased. Consuela tried extra hard to be nice to Amanda, which infuriated Amanda, and make the town fold like Consuela even more.
The fact is Amanda has been strutting around town for ten years now, and deep down they had had enough of Amanda and her daddy. They just could do anything about them, seeing how they were the fastest guns around. They could put up with Big Dick, especially now that he was so smitten with Consuela that he spent most of his time following her around like a love-sick puppy dog, but Amanda was something else. Amanda was getting older but she was still the most beautiful woman in town, at least in her own mind. But the townsfolk had watched her strutting and swaggering through town in her skin-tight clothes for ten years now, shaking her hips and flaunting her big tits and perfect ass in front of man and woman alike and they pretty much had enough. The men thought she was a cocktease who got off on teasing all the men, and the women thought her a brazen whore. In fact, some of the ladies in town had higher opinions of the whores in town than they did of Amanda. Most women Amanda’s age had a husband and a family, and if they could not compete with her body there were other ways to get at Amanda. I noticed how some of the ladies in town raised their voices a little louder when Amanda sashayed by, boasting of their husbands and children, and how the worst thing in the world would be to be a dried up old maid without a man and without a family. That was purely for Amanda’s benefit.
Big Dick was on her back too, about finding herself a husband. He was going to set for life when he married Consuela, and wanted Amanda to find herself not just a husband but a rich one at that!  The problem was that none of the men in town would consider marrying Amanda. They wanted to fuck her for sure, there is no doubt about that, but she was too cocky, arrogant and full of herself to be wife material. That was the difference between Amanda and Consuela. Even though they both wore tight, revealing clothes they carried themselves differently. Each of them knew they were beautiful women, but when Consuela walked through town, even though them big titties were front and center, she didn’t rub them in your face, so to speak, the way Amanda did. I guess the difference was that Consuela strolled through town while Amanda strutted. So, none of the men in town would ever think of marrying Amanda, except maybe me, and even I gave up after a while. I guess ten years of lusting after that blonde beauty was enough. Don’t get me wrong, I still think she is the most beautiful woman in town, and I still dream of those 34Cs and that perfect ass, but even though my daddy owns a ranch outside of town and I ain’t exactly broke, in her eyes I ain’t man enough for her.
Amanda may have been the most beautiful woman in town, certainly in my eyes, and in others as well, even though she is getting up there in years, she wasn’t the only beautiful woman in town. I started spending time at the newly opened Spanish Rose. Big Dick sort of insisted that we deputies spend out free time there, and I got to know some of Consuela’s girls. I have never seen so many pretty girls in one place at one time since that time I took a trip to Chicago.
Now I know some people in town look down their noses at the people on South Street, but not me. I don’t care much about how a person makes a living, as long as they ain’t hurting anybody else.  So, I’m pretty comfortable with the people of South Street. Having said that, let me tell you something about whores. You see whores don’t have to be beautiful or even pretty. They just got to be clean, and presentable and available. The men ain’t exactly looking for romance, they are just looking for sex. The whores we had in town, before Consuela arrived, weren’t exactly beautiful. Some were kinda pretty, some were less pretty, but certainly none of them could hold a candle next to Amanda. The gals who work for Consuela, well, that is another story; they were all beautiful in their own way.
I know why Consuela was so successful in her saloon and whore, I mean brothel, business. Every gal who worked for her was a beauty, and there were so many flavors to choose from. She had blondes, brunettes and redheads, black girls, all kinds of Asians and Europeans, girls from Spain and Mexico and even an Indian squaw or two. They came in all shapes and sizes too, from petite all the way to extra-large, and even the plump ones were pretty. There was just something sexy and exotic about these gals that even the ones weren’t outright beautiful had something about them that made you desire them.
Like my new friend Amy. She is one of the dancehall girls at the Spanish Rose. Amy ain’t exactly beautiful, but there is something about her that I can’t quite put my finger on. She has nice tits, plump and juicy, but not particularly big. She looks positively flat compared to Amanda so you can imagine how she compared to Consuela. She has a nice, juicy ass, plump and round, but nowhere near as round and perfect as Amanda’s. Amy has this long, thick black hair that is so kinky and curly, and the hair down below is even kinkier and curlier, and you would think she must have some black in her. But she says she is an Eye-talion Jewess from New York City. Her skin is kinda dark, not as dark as Consuela’s but not as white as Amanda’s, and her nose is a little big. Not real big but just a little big. Amy isn’t as beautiful as Amanda, but there is just something about her that lights my fire. And, unlike Amanda, Amy has let me see her round, naked ass and explore every inch of her body and whispers sweet nothings in my ear.
I learned a lot from Amy, and not just the many ways to please a woman, or the ways a woman can please a man. A lot of what I learned about Consuela I heard from Amy. Hell, some of it I learned from Consuela herself, who wasn’t shy about coming to my table and whispering sweet nothings, and other things, into my ear. Amy taught me some new words too. Like that day we were sitting there at a table and Amanda came storming in.
Now Consuela had not just rebuilt the place, she had improved it. The Spanish Rose was bigger than the Cactus Café had been. What was once two saloons was now one grand place, very fancy, with ornate chandeliers and fine wood paneling, a big bar, with a mirror behind it, and to the right was a dining room, she had the best cooks in town, and to the left was the gambling hall. Upstairs were the living quarters, and if one of the dancehall girls wanted to take a fella upstairs she might receive some fancy gifts.
Anyway, we were sitting there, enjoying a drink, and each other’s company, and Amy had her hand down my pants when Amanda stormed in.
“Oy!” That was her favorite expression. “I don’t even have to look and I know your girlfriend is here,” she added. I guess things might have gotten a little stiff in my pants.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said.
“You want her to be,” Amy retorted.
I leaned over and gave Amy a long, wet kiss.
When we stopped I looked up and saw Amanda was looking at us and I could see by the look on her face she was mad, maybe a little jealous even. Amanda didn’t want me but she didn’t want anyone else to want me either. She’s funny like that. Anyway, right about then Consuela came out of the kitchen carrying three pies, a blueberry and two lemon meringue, a house favorite.
“Oy vey, here we go again,” Amy said with a laugh. “What a schlemiel!”
Amy used a lot of Yiddish words. That’s some kind of old Jew language I guess. I thought she was calling Amanda a bad name. She just laughed.
“I meant Consuela. She’s such a schlemiel. That means clumsy.”
Consuela was having a time of it, trying to balance three pies, and it looked like she was going to drop one or another at any second.
  “Now Blondie is a schlimazel. That means unlucky. Schlemiels and schlimazels don’t go together. Or maybe they do.”  I guess I had a puzzled look on my face when she explained, “Let me put it this way, a schlemiel goes through life spilling soup, and a schlimazel is the one it gets spilled on.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I still remembered Consuela’s first day in town and how Amanda wound up sitting on her sexy ass in a pile of cactus. Then there was the time that Consuela was showing off her new brick factory to Big Dick and Amanda. She was looking at Big Dick, telling him about this and that and waving her arms around, and walking backwards, and Amanda was behind her, backing up to keep from being knocked over by Consuela’s big ass, and Amanda backed herself into a wheelbarrow full of wet clay and was up to her hips in the thick, wet clay. “Daddyyyyyyyyyy!” Amanda cried as we tried to pull her out of it, and it was no easy task with her perfect ass stuck in that thick grey clay. It was so thick that by the time Amanda walked home to the jail it had dried out and she was walking stiff-legged. There were a lot of snorts, snickers and giggles around town, watching Amanda slink home embarrassed again.
When we were building the Spanish Rose, Big Dick had the whole Sheriff’s Department helping out on that, there was the time that Big Dick and Consuela were carrying a ladder around the newly finished veranda and this time it was Big Dick who was walking backwards, and Amanda was behind him, and, having learned her lesson at the brick factory, she turned to get away and ran smack into the railing. Amanda was ass over elbows over the railing and landed flat on her ass again, this time in Madame Orr’s pig sty.
“Daddy! It happened again!” Amanda cried. One of the piglets splashed through the mud between her legs and she shooed it away and when she turned her head there was one of the big porkers right there and it tapped her with its snout. It looked like it kissed her. She was really crying for daddy now and I thought I heard someone say “Looks like they know one of their own when they see it.”  Big Dick was leaning over the railing, holding out his hand for Amanda to grab so he could haul her out. Amanda struggled to her feet, but the thick black mud was kinda slippery and when she reached out for Big Dick’s hand she slipped and landed splat face down in the muck. She slipped and struggled and by the time we hauled her out she was covered head to toe with the slimy black mud. To make matters worse, she had lost her hat and somehow it ended up on one of the pig’s heads. That time there weren’t just snickers and giggles but outright laughter. Everyone was laughing, even me, because it was funny watching Amanda slip and slide in the mud, trying to catch that pig and get her hat back. The people who weren’t there sure laughed when they saw that mud monster stomping through town.
Then there was that time about a week later when Amanda showed up at the construction site and found Consuela high up on a ladder, painting some red trim around one of the windows. Now this time I watched her do it. I was watching that perfect ass in those tight jeans and I saw how Amanda “accidentally” bumped into that ladder. I could see Amanda carefully plan that accident and back her sexy ass into the ladder with an “oops”. Consuela was high up and could have broken her neck but she managed to hold on to the window and the ladder. She couldn’t hold on to the can of red pain, which dumped right on Amanda’s head!  She looked comical with a bucket on her head and when we got it off she was just covered with red paint. Consuela was so apologetic, and she told Amanda she made a beautiful redhead while Amanda cried for daddy again. Consuela even helped her clean up, scrubbing that paint off. When she said something about having to cut her hair off because the paint was so thick Amanda was in tears. “Please don’t cut off my hair.” They didn’t cut it off but Amanda smelled like turpentine for a week, and you couldn’t smoke around her.
So yeah, schlemiel and schlimazel perfectly described Consuela and Amanda. Amanda had come in to have some words with Consuela and she paused when she saw Consuela juggling those pies. Eyes wide Amanda made her stop and plucked the blueberry pie from the crook of Consuela’s arm and put it on the only place available, one of the chairs at a full table, then turned back to Consuela and repositioned the pies so she only had one in each hand.
“Just carry two,” Amanda told her.
That was all I could hear from across the room. Whatever Amanda had to say she was keeping private, and kept leaning in to whisper to Consuela, who would then lean in to whisper back. The problem was that every time Consuela leaned in her big tits were bumping into Amanda’s tits. Amanda didn’t like that and kept on backing up and she backed herself into the chair. When the back of her legs hit the chair, Amanda lost her balance and sat down hard, right on the blueberry pie!  She was crying for daddy again when she stood up and saw herself in one of the mirrors. With the dark goo dripping off her ass it looked like Amanda had shit her pants and everyone was laughing, what do you expect when everyone’s all liquored up, and Consuela, ever apologetic, moved forward and tripped and one lemon meringue pie hit Amanda splat in the face, and the other one landed on her big tits. Amanda ran out of the Spanish Rose, crying “I’m telling my daddy about this!” to roars of laughter.
Amy, who still had her hand down my pants, said, “Either I’m really good at this, or you really enjoyed the show.”
“A little bit of both, I guess,” I replied.
Amy gave a nod to Consuela, who came over to join us and we had a nice long conversation. Consuela told me some more things that I found interesting and intriguing, but I have to admit it was a little hard to concentrate with Amy licking my ear and working her hand inside my pants.
Things like that were always happening to Amanda when she tried to do something to Consuela. And every time it did Consuela’s reputation grew, as did the town admiration for her, while Amanda’s went in the opposite direction. I think that if it wasn’t for the fact that Big Dick was courting Consuela Amanda would have found a way to just shoot her down in the street. But then something happened, oh about six months or so after Consuela first hit town, and right around the time they finished construction on her new hotel. We knew that in a few months the people from the railroad would be back to finalize the details on the railroad construction, and this fella arrived on the stagecoach. He came from a good family, and his father owned a big shipping company and he was in town to set up the shipping company. Amanda took one look at him and, well, she was in love.
I was jealous, of course, but I didn’t blame her. If Amanda had the body of a goddess this fella had the body of a god. Thick, wavy brown hair he was tall and lean, not an ounce of fat on him, and he was ungodly handsome to boot. When he got off the stage and bumped into Amanda, asking for directions she was positively tongue tied. And I swear, when he headed off to the hotel Amanda stood there, eyes glued to his muscular butt, with the same look we all had when Amanda strutted through town. He was young, maybe 25 or so, and you could tell Amanda wanted him bad.
For Amanda it was love at first sight, or lust at first sight at the very least, and she followed him to the hotel with the same wide-eyed, lustful look that the men usually had when she walked through town. She had it bad. I would have found it comical if I wasn’t so jealous. If it was ten years ago, or even one, or any time BC (Before Consuela), Amanda would have had him roped and branded before he got halfway to the hotel. But things were different now. Not only was the town growing, it was growing up. Shooting in the streets was something from the past. There were other things to consider as well, including Big Dick and his courting of Consuela. As much as Amanda hated her she didn’t want to cross her father, or disappoint him, and she didn’t want to ruin his plans. That first day she was just dumbstruck anyway, following him with her eyes on his butt, bumping into people and posts. When he disappeared into the hotel she already knew she had to have him.
This young fella, whose name was Adam, from the Bible, came from a well-known, and well-connected family, and one of the biggest name in the shipping business. I think they got their start in shipping back in Boston, with real ships. They moved on down the East Coast, expanding into other ports, and they shipped most of the cargo up the Mississippi and overland to points west. Adam’s family was one of the richest in the shipping industry, and one day it would all be his. Add that to the fact that he was so good looking, well, the rest of us men could not compare. Adam was the most eligible bachelor in town. He was to Amanda what Consuela was to Big Dick; a sexy meal ticket.
The town had what you might call a learning experience. The people in town learned what you call empathy, understanding how other folk felt. The men folk, well got a taste of what the women folk have been going through for the last ten years. For ten years now, we been gawking at Amanda when she swaggered through town, showing off her perfect body. The gals in town could only watch us lusting after her, jealous of Amanda, and disgusted with the men folk. Now the shoe was on the other foot and it was the men who had to look on with jealousy as all the women lusted after this here Adam, knowing he was so handsome, and rich, that we could not compete. It really opens your eyes. And the women folk, well now it was the ladies who finally understood that when someone so perfect and beautiful passes you by, well, you can’t help but gawk. And he was perfect. He was handsome and perfect. Adam was long and lean, with a muscular body and a beautiful face, or so Amy and her friends tell me, and I heard that one of the maids over at the hotel walked in on him when he was dressing and, well, Big Dick might have himself some competition now. How handsome was he?  He was as beautiful and perfect a specimen of a man as Amanda was of a woman! 
Amanda was getting a taste of her own medicine. Amanda would watch him walk down the street and she would get this dreamy, kinda goofy look on her face. Sometimes she would lick her lips and sometimes her tongue would hang out. Hell, all you had to do was mention his name and she would get to swooning, or her face would get all flushed. Now she knew what it felt like for us when she strutted through town, shaking her tits and ass in our faces.
I had to wonder, now that we had a god in human form walking in our presence, how many of the ladies in town suddenly got romantic with their men, how many of them dreamed it was Adam spreading their legs instead of their boring old husbands, and how many cried out his name during the act.
As for me, I already knew why the ladies in town hated Amanda, and the way she practically rubbed her perfect body in their faces as she strutted through town. But now I knew what it felt like to watch perfection walk by and know, deep down inside, that I couldn’t compete. Now I knew what it felt like for myself, and, well, it sucked.
I hated him, well, I really wanted to hate him, but that Adam, well, damn if he was perfect in every way and he was just so darn nice that it was impossible to hate him. He was so down to earth, personable, and downright nice that it was hard to dislike him. In some ways he was more like Consuela than Amanda. He didn’t throw his perfection in anyone’s face. It was like he didn’t know, or didn’t care about any of that. He was just an all-around nice guy.
Big Dick had his meal ticket, Consuela, and was just waiting on her daughter to come home so he could seal the deal, and now Amanda had hers picked out. Only Adam didn’t know it yet. Now Adam has done some traveling, for the family business, and he was quite impressed with our brand new, three-story hotel, and he was even more impressed with the Spanish Rose. He was impressed with its beauty and grandeur, and was surprised to find a place like it out west, in the middle of nowhere, so to speak. It was as grand a place as you would find in a big city like New York City, Chicago, or Kansas City. He was impressed not only with the hotel, and the Spanish Rose, but their owner as well. He was quite taken with Miss Consuela.
That’s when things got what you call complicated. You’ve heard of a love triangle, well we had what you could call a love square. Big Dick may have been a big man in town, due to his being Sheriff, and his guns, and all. But he could not compete with a fella that beautiful, that perfect, that rich, and that young. Not only was Adam young enough to be Big Dick’s son, he was only about 25, he was young enough to be Amanda’s son. Big Dick did not want to compete with this young piece of perfect.
Then you had Consuela, who was pretty much betrothed to Big Dick, who was personable and friendly to everyone. Consuela was fairly popular in town, partly because of the way she carried herself, partly because of all the people she employed in her various businesses, and partly because Amanda hated her, and everyone knew it, so people fawned over her just to spite the blonde beauty. Every time Amanda trudged through town, covered in mud, pies, paint or horse manure, well Consuela’s popularity grew, especially among the women folk. Consuela is, above all, human, so she had to be flattered by the attention of this young man.
Then there was Amanda. She had her eyes, and her heart, set on Adam. Now I don’t know if it was love, or just full-blown lust, but she had it bad for him. In his presence she would get all hot and flustered. Amanda had the beautiful, perfect body of a goddess, and she knew it, and in the presence of us mere mortals she was treated like the goddess she was. But Adam was so handsome and perfect that she wasn’t used to it and got all flustered around him. You know how they say that men think with their peckers?  All you had to do was mention his name and Amanda’s nipples would get hard and damn near poke through her tight shirts, and she was lusting for him so bad I swear it was her pussy doing the thinking. She sure as shit didn’t want the object of her lust being smitten with the likes of Consuela, the woman she despised. Amanda and Consuela were about the same age, even though Amanda knew she was prettier, but it was something to think about.
Then you had Adam. I don’t know if he was smitten with Consuela, or just impressed by her. He did frequent the Spanish Rose in the first few days he spent in town, but I can’t rightly say whether it was because of Consuela, or because it was the best place in town. Hell, it was the fanciest place for a hundred miles.
So, like I said, the town was growing up, and now that the Gravy Train was heading on out to Easy Street it wasn’t the time for rash action. Big Dick and Amanda had to figure out a way to get rid of the competition without getting rid of the competition. Shooting up the streets and running people out of town would no longer work, particularly since each of them had their sights set on Consuela and Adam.
Now Amanda knew that Consuela was no match for her, physically. Amanda knew she was prettier, and she also knew that she had the better body. Amanda’s problem was that, well, basically, that she was Big Dick’s daughter. For her whole life Amanda just took what she wanted. Amanda knew about sex but she was clueless when it came to romance. When it came to things like courting and flirting, well, Amanda was just lost. Amanda didn’t know how to flirt. Usually, if she saw some fella she wanted to fuck she just took him by the collar, did what she wanted with him and tossed him aside. Hell, I don’t think she even owned a dress. Amanda was totally lacking in what they call feminine guiles. Even the plainest gal in town could out-flirt her. If Amanda wanted to rope this stallion she was going to need help.
Amanda’s problem was that, basically, no one in town really liked her, except maybe me. To the men she was a cocktease who had been teasing them for ten years, and to the ladies, well, they were sick of her flaunting her tits and ass in their faces. I couldn’t help her and neither could Big Dick; what did we know about being a lady? If Amanda wanted to rope this stallion and ride him off into the sunset she was going to need a woman’s touch. Amanda, not having any lady friends, could only turn to one person in town if she wanted to catch this man.
That person was Consuela.
It might seem strange for Amanda to turn to the one woman in town that she actively hated for help, but Consuela was her only hope. You see, in these here times, courting ain’t just about picking out a gal or fella, it is about rituals and rules and how you go about it. Amanda had no clue about any of that and she didn’t have any lady friends who could help her. Hell, for ten years Amanda has been strutting around town, showing off her tits and ass in them skin tight clothes, thinking she was better than anyone else. So the ladies in town weren’t rushing to help Amanda out on this, especially when some of them had their eyes on that fella too. Like her daddy explained to her, it wasn’t like going into Madame Orr’s house and picking out a whore. Amanda had to get Adam to notice her, not just as a woman, which her curvy figure would have told him, but as a mate. It’s been that way as long as there have been men and women, you gotta show you are a good mate. Of course, the trick here is to get Adam to think it was his idea. That’s how it really works. The women do the deciding when it comes to matchmaking. Hell, most fellas don’t even know what’s going on until they are in front of the Preacher sayin’ “I do!” It’s been like that between men and women since, well since there’s been men and women.
If Amanda was going to need help, and Amanda was going to need help, she needed a professional. Who better to help her than the woman who made her fortune knowing what men want and giving it to them?  Of course, first, Big Dick was going to have to find out what this young fella’s intentions were towards Consuela, and what her intentions were to Adam.
Big Dick, being all smart and slick, was being sneaky and sly and trying to find out from Consuela what was what. She saw right through him. Like I been saying, smarts don’t exactly run in the family. Why, by the time Amanda and her daddy got to the station the Brain Train had already departed. Consuela, laughing, asked Big Dick, “Is there something you want to know?”  He was that transparent.
I’ll give Big Dick credit here. Maybe he realized she was smarter than he was, and told her everything. Well almost everything. He told her how Amanda had her eye on that young fella Adam, and how he would make a good husband for her and provide for Amanda and all, but he was worried that Adam had his eye on Consuela, and she had her eye on him. He did leave out the part about Adam, and Consuela, being meal tickets, but I guess that’s only natural.
Consuela laughed. She said how she was flattered at young Adam’s attention, but it was strictly business with that young fella. She did enjoy the attention, she confessed, but all the praise and attention Adam paid her was about her businesses. He was impressed with the brick factory, and the lavish hotel she built, and the Spanish Rose. He particularly liked the Spanish Rose, and the way it outshone all the other saloons down on South Street, how lavish it was inside, and outside too, and even the cucumber and cactus patches she planted on either side of the steps leading up to the Rose. Consuela assured Big Dick that he had nothing to worry about.
“Why young Adam is my little Lizzie’s age!  I could never be interested in a man young enough to be my son. What would people say, chasing a man half my age!  I would look downright foolish chasing a man the same age as my daughter.”
I had to laugh. Consuela was Amanda’s age so that pretty much fit Big Dick to a T. Course, seeing how it was Big Dick I laughed, but I didn’t laugh too loud. I ain’t that foolish.
Consuela was happy to her Amanda, and boy did she ever need it. Amanda is what you call a natural beauty, and she has a perfect body. She is all woman, just one look at those shapes and curves, not to mention her big tits and round ass, but Amanda don’t know the first thing about being a lady. It ain’t necessarily her fault. Amanda was young when her mother departed. I ain’t quite sure, but I hear tell he mother didn’t die; she just departed, with a salesman from St. Louis. So, it was up to Big Dick to raise his daughter, so she was like him; rough and tough, mean and ornery, fast with a gun, and cocky and arrogant. She was all woman, but she wasn’t what you would call feminine. Like her daddy, Amanda spent her life taking what she wanted, so the whole idea of beguiling a man was foreign to her. Hell, up to this point in her life, the only women in Amanda’s life were the whores her father frequented.
Consuela made it her mission in life to turn Amanda into a lady, and get her the man she desired. It was not going to be easy. Amanda’s clothes collection consisted of tight denim shirts, tighter blue jeans, boots and her hat. She had more than one pair of clothes, of course, but they were all basically the same. She had no clue when it came to corsets and petticoats, garters, bustles, pantaloons and whatever else these ladies wear under their dresses. It was all pretty much new to Amanda. Amanda had seen her share of whores and dancehall girls, and the women in town, but Amanda was so full of herself she never paid much attention to what they were wearing. For the most part Amanda just looked at other women and felt smug in the knowledge that she was prettier than them all.
Amanda got real frustrated with all these new clothes, and some of the things she just could figure out or get used to. I was surprised at some of the things she liked, like the ruffled, frilly things, and she took to corsets since they pushed her tits up and really showed them off, as well as slimming her waist and really accenting her tits and ass. But she also felt like a fool all dressed up like the other women in town. It was like she was playing dress up when all she wanted was her tight jeans back.
Consuela and her girls really put Amanda through her paces, teaching her what to wear, how to wear it, and when to wear it. They taught her how to walk in heels, and stuff about her hair, like how to curl it and how to wear it in fancy styles, with ribbons or flowers in it. They taught her how to put color on her cheeks and paint her lips. Amanda got really frustrated at times, trying to remember all this stuff, but after a week or two she was getting the hang of it.
The clothes and hair was one thing, but they were only half the battle. Amanda was used to just taking what she wanted, and that included men, but now she had to learn how to flirt and she was hopelessly lost. Some of it she just couldn’t get the hang of. When Amanda went to batting her eyelashes, well, it was more like twitching, and when she tried to wink it looked like she had a stigmatism or something. I’ll give her credit, though, because Amanda tried really hard. She must have really wanted that Adam. I know she missed Jeans, though, cause wearing them was when she was most comfortable and most herself.
That was the other thing, if Amanda wanted to catch her man there would be no more skin-tight britches. Amanda had to be on her best behavior now, and I could see she hated it. She had to learn to stroll through town, and not swagger, and she felt positively naked without her six-guns. But it was the price she had to pay if she wanted to catch her man. So, no more strutting through town in her skin-tight clothes, no more shooting in the streets, and no more dragging men off the streets when she was in heat; Amanda had to be on her best behavior and act like a lady.
I admit, Amanda gussied up good, and even though she wasn’t real good at small talk, and even with all the twitchin’ and winking stigmatism she did catch that fella’s eye. Like I said, she was a natural beauty anyway. I don’t know if it was a courtship yet, but her and Adam sure did spend a lot of time together over the next couple months, going for horse and buggy rides, going off on picnics, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with Big Dick and Consuela. I know I saw them holding hands more than once. Of course, without a Preacher or a marriage license there was no hanky panky.
 Now you might think I was jealous of this Adam fella, and I suppose I was, but you can’t lose what you never had, right, and besides, he was such a nice, down-to-earth fella that he was hard to hate. I sort of felt sorry for Amanda and her daddy. Adam had been in town for about two months now, and Consuela had been here about eight months or so by now. In about a week or so her daughter was due to arrive, and finally meet the man who had been courting mother. Ever since Big Dick started courting Consuela he had been on his best behavior, which no more whoring and carousing. Big Dick, you might say, had a big case of blue balls. If he wanted to marry a respectable woman he had to be respectable, so for the better part of the year he hadn’t done more than hold Consuela’s hand, and maybe gotten a kiss on the cheek. I felt sorry for him in a way. Big Dick liked to use his big dick, and for the last eight months or so his only “girlfriend” has been his right hand. Sometimes his left, if he felt like cheating on himself. The poor soul, he stole him a pair of Consuela’s used undies, she liked the frilly, lacy kind, and.one day I saw him in one of the back rooms at the jail, holding them panties to his face while he pleasured himself. He didn’t see me, thank God, or I probably would be here now telling you this story. Sometimes he would disappear two or three times a day, especially when Consuela was wearing her tight clothes. Hell, she could have worn a bag and he still would done it.
Now I don’t know what the female version of blue balls is, blue pussy maybe? But whatever you call it I know Amanda had a case of it. She never went two weeks, let alone two months, without roping her some fella to please her. Hell, she’s been known to go through three or four men a week. But since Adam came to town and she had to start acting ladylike she’s had to go off men, cold turkey like. Knowing her all these years I can tell the difference between when Amanda is all horny and in heat, and when she has, let’s say, “relieved” the pressure so to speak. Now I ain’t saying the two things are related, but I do know Consuela said how someone’s been swiping cucumbers from the gardens out in front of the Spanish Rose.
At least Big Dick is finally going to get his answer. When the noon stage comes in today it should be carrying Consuela’s little Lizzie.
The noon stage arrived on time, and by that, I mean it was two hours late. There was a welcoming committee of sorts, led by Consuela and Big Dick, along with Amanda and her new beau Adam. I was there, representing the Sheriff’s department. There was a whole bunch of other folk there too.  Everyone wanted to see Consuela’s little Miss Lizzie, but mostly because she was kinda wealthy and people sort of do these things when you are rich.
Consuela had been turning heads for the last two months or so, and not because of the way she looked or acted but because of the way she had taken Amanda under her wing. Consuela had taken that untamed mare and turned her into a lady. I couldn’t believe it myself. Waiting for the stage I looked at her and I barely recognized her. Amanda was wearing one of Consuela’s dresses that one of the gals, a seamstress, had taken in in some places and let out in others. It was one of those dresses that covered everything, but was tight in the right places and showed off Amanda’s assets. Amanda’s blonde hair was in curls and piled up in some sort of fancy hairdo, tied up with fancy ribbons and bows and topped off with a lace hat that matched her dress, and she protected herself from the Sun with a parasol that matched her dress. It wasn’t just how she looked but how she acted as well. She never did get the batting of her eyes right, and still did that twitchy thing, but Consuela had taught her how to lower her head and smile demurely, and she acted so shy and quiet, and ladylike, that if I didn’t know better I would swear she was one of those fancy ladies from back east, or even Europe. No one else in town could believe it either.
The stage finally arrived and when the door opened they all started fawning over that young gal, and tripping over themselves to tell Consuela how beautiful she was, and how she looked just like her and all. Just like the day when Consuela came to town that young gal came out tits first, and she was a D cup, just like Consuela. Well, maybe not “just like” her. Consuela called her ranch the Double D for a reason, and had those 44 Double D tits, and right now I was staring at a pair of 38Ds at least. She had a low-cut dress that really showed them off too. Her hair was curly like Consuela’s, but even kinkier and curlier, and made me think that maybe her daddy used to work in the cotton fields, if you know what I mean. We never did hear much about Consuela’s husband. Her hair was curly, sort of halfway between Consuela’s luxurious curls and one of them black girls, only it wasn’t black like Consuela’s but sort of blonde like. Not blonde lie Amanda, or bleached like some of the whores, but it was like she was trying to be blonde but her hair was so dark it came out sort of like a mixture of black, red and brownish blonde. I ain’t saying it looked bad, but you could tell she was dying her hair. Naturally se got compliments on that too.
She stepped out and she was a big girl, just like Consuela, 5’8” at least, and she was thick like Consuela, and had the same kind of big, thick, strong body, and the same kind of brown skin. She was on the plump side, though, and while she wasn’t roly-poly fat she was what you call thick and chunky. I could see her bare arms and they were big and thick, and her biceps were as big as Amanda’s legs; maybe not her smooth thighs, but at least as big as Amanda’s calves. She had the same big, fat, round ass like Consuela, and while it was round and shapely, boy was it big. You could see that there was a roll of jelly around her middle, and I saw a flash of thigh when she was getting out of the coach and she had these big, thick thunder thighs that looked to be as big as Amanda’s waist. Maybe she wasn’t twice Amanda’s size, but she was at least one and a half!  She was thick and strong, like Consuela, but a little on the chunky and chubby side, but she had a pretty face. She wasn’t as pretty as Amanda, but few were.
You should have seen everyone tripping over themselves to compliment her, and Consuela, saying how pretty she was, and how she was the spitting image of Consuela, and how proud she must be to have such a beautiful daughter. Now I admit she was pretty, for a big gal, and carried herself well, but the only thing funnier than watching all these people over-compliment this big heifer was Consuela’s reaction.
“That’s not my Lizzie, that’s her friend Johnna. That’s my Lizzie,” she laughed as the second woman stepped out of the coach.
Now this one did look like Consuela. She looked like a smaller, younger version of her. Her hair wasn’t as curly as Consuela’s, it was more wild and frizzy, and she had it piled up and framing a very pretty face. She had Consuela’s eyes and a big, bright smile that lit up her whole face. She had the same dark skin, but it looked softer and smoother, which I guess comes with youth. She had the same kind of dress Amanda was wearing, covering up the good parts, but tight in the right places and showing off her assets. She didn’t look exactly like her mother. She was a lot smaller, maybe 5’4” and she wasn’t exactly top heavy like her mother. Consuela and her 44DDs made Amanda look almost flat. Well Amanda’s 34Cs did the same thing to Liz. She had nice, shapely tits, but she was a B cup at best, maybe 34B. She had the same kind of thick, strong body that her mother had, only on a smaller scale, and while she wasn’t slim like Amanda, she wasn’t chunky like her friend. There was a hint of tummy on her, but most women have that, and she has a nice, shapely figure, with curvy hips and thick, strong thighs, like her mother, and you could say she had an hourglass figure, like her mother, except all the sand was in the bottom.
Mother and daughter exchanged hugs, and I could see that, like her mother she had a shapely bottom. I didn’t realize how shapely until she saw something down in the dirt, a shiny penny, and bent over to pick it up. Now she wore her dress kinda tight, and had to bend at the waist, and damn if that woman didn’t have a big ass. Liz had those plump hips, and a big, round, shapely bottom. It was so big, and round, and all I could think of was damn that’s a big ass. She was bent at the waist and picked up the penny saying, “See a penny pick it up,” and then standing up straight.
Adam chimed in and in unison they finished the chant.
“And all day you’ll have good luck!” they said in unison.
It was something his daddy used to say, and she told him she learned it from her mother. Consuela made introductions all around and I could see Amanda, still doing her best ladylike impression, trying to smile. I could see how much trouble she was having, but she pulled it off. We headed down to the hotel with Liz being escorted by Consuela on one side and Big Dick on the other, and behind them Adam escorted Amanda, and the Mayor, with no one left to escort, taking Johnna’s arm and leading her along. Me and some of the other fellas followed, carrying the luggage. I had a front row seat, you might say, and let me tell you every one of them women knew how to work their hips, and it was a regular wiggle-wobble convention. With all those tight dresses showing off everyone’s “assets” you could see their big haunches bouncing up and down, and it was a walk I will never forget.
Liz and her friend Johnna got settled into the hotel and rested up and later that night they had a family dinner over at the hotel, with just Liz and her friend, Consuela and Big Dick, and Amanda and Adam attending. I wasn’t part of it so I have no idea what was said, but Big Dick and Amanda must have made a good impression because Liz gave Big Dick her approval. I did hear from someone over at the hotel that Amanda did a right amazing job, and both Liz and Johnna complimented her, and told Adam how lucky he was to have such a fine, and refined, lady for a companion. Amanda, I was told, was beaming. She really impressed me. I didn’t know she had it in her, to be honest. If I didn’t know better I would have sworn she was one of those fancy ladies from back east.
I did happen to stop in the hotel and saw them in the dining room. The ladies, except Amanda, were all talking in Spanish in that rapid-fire way they talk, and laughing while the men, and Amanda, just sort of smiled. I think Adam might have understood a little bit of Spanish and he laughed a couple times, but Big Dick and Amanda just sort of sat there, smiling, sometimes laughing too, even they didn’t know what they was laughing about.
Later they came over to the Spanish Rose, and Liz was wearing a rose in her hair and everyone just naturally assumed she was the rose it was named for. They finalized the plans for the wedding, which would take place in about a week, and made plans for Liz to run the family businesses while Consuela was off on her honeymoon with Big Dick. I still wasn’t a part of all this, I was basically the Sheriff now with Big Dick busy with the wedding preparations and Amanda being all ladylike and all. I was with Amy and some of it we could overhear and some of it we pieced together. I know that when they started talking about the honeymoon we could see the lust, and relief, in Big Dick’s eyes. After close to nine months he was finally going to get his hands on Consuela’s treasures, and by that, I mean her body and her bank account. After nine months I wondered which one Big Dick wanted more.
Something interesting happened the next day. Consuela wanted to go riding and have a picnic lunch. Early in the morning they all came down and Big Dick had arranged horses for everyone, and I was supposed to ride out later in the buckboard with the picnic baskets and meet them. Consuela came down with her girls, Liz and Johnna, and they all wore the same kind of riding outfits, only in different colors. They all wore those tight, stretchy Spanish riding britches and, damn, I swear they were tighter than anything Amanda ever wore. You could really see every inch of their hot Spanish bodies. Now ain’t none of them as pretty as Amanda, and none of them had the same kind of perfect body, but you could see every crack and crevice of those big Spanish asses, and watching them ride out of town all I could think was that I ain’t seen that many cheeks since the Wells Fargo Wagon had delivered that crate of peaches last summer.
The ladies did not ride out alone. They had Big Dick for an escort, and Consuela had invited Adam along so he could discuss some business with her, and fill in Liz on anything she might need to know. There was one person who didn’t go, and wasn’t even asked, and that was Amanda. When she found out her reaction shocked me. Before her transformation Amanda would have blown her top and started screaming and cussing, but now she was close to tears.
“He…he...he went without me?” she sniffed.
I felt bad for her so when I went out with the buckboard and the picnic lunch I brought her along so she could have a talk with Adam. It turns out that he didn’t invite her along partly because it was going to be a lot of boring business talk, but mostly because he thought she was too much of a dainty, refined lady to want to spend the day getting all sweaty on the back of a smelly horse. If he only knew; Amanda could ride as well as most men, and better than a lot of them. She felt better after hearing that and I guess he felt bad for not inviting her so we ended up swapping and I rode his horse back into town and he and Amanda took the buckboard. I hated to leave, let me tell you. That Liz, in them skin-tight pants, was a sight to see, and I hated to say goodbye to that big, round beautiful butt of hers. Then again, if my Amy saw me gawking at that perfectly round butt there would be hell to pay.
The next week flew by with everyone getting ready for the wedding, and all the business talk between Consuela, Liz and Adam. It flew by for everyone, I think, except Big Dick, who just couldn’t wait for the honeymoon. The wedding went off without a hitch but the reception was another story. Big Dick had been dreaming of this honeymoon for so long, but he got so drunk at the reception that he would have had a case of whiskey dick, limp as a noodle, if he hadn’t gone and passed out. Hell, by the time they left on the stage the next day he was still half drunk and half hungover. They were heading east, and would catch a train, for New Orleans I think, and then get on a boat and take a cruise down to Puerto Rico. I think Consuela wanted to show him the family plantation there, or some such thing. I don’t rightly know, and I wasn’t really interested in his honeymoon plans anyway.
That wasn’t the only thing that happened. Big Dick had appointed Amanda Sheriff in his absence, which was no big surprise, and she sort of left it to me to do the Sheriffing, since she was now a lady and all. She was waiting at the hotel to have lunch with Adam, like they always did, and she waited a long time, an hour or two before he came in-with Liz!
Liz is what you call a tomboy type. She likes riding horses and working outside, and while she looks might pretty in a dress she preferred boy’s clothes, sometimes jeans but mostly those tight riding britches. I said how the way to catch a man out here is by being a lady. I guess where she comes from the way to catch a man’s eye is by having a big butt, which she has in spades, and showing it off, which she did every chance she got. Liz really showed off her plump hips, meaty ass and thick, strong thighs. She must have been waving them under Adam’s nose the whole time she was in town.
Adam had spent a lot of time with Consuela in the last week, discussing business before she left on her honeymoon, and therefore he spent a lot of time with Liz and her tight britches. When they came into the hotel Adam told Amanda that he was fond of her and all, but he was going to be courting Liz from now on.
“I’m sure you’ll understand,” he told Amanda. “You’re a fine, beautiful lady, Amanda, and I’m real fond of you. But this is rough and tough country and if a man is going to make his mark in it he needs a rough and tough woman beside him. You’re just too dainty and delicate a lady for me. I like my women wild and boisterous. You’re just too feminine and fragile a lady for my tastes.”
“Damn it, I ain’t no lady!” Amanda snapped, standing up and I swear, her hands reaching for the guns she wasn’t wearing. “I’m more woman that that Mexican whore and I’ll show you!”  She stormed out and by the time she reached the jailhouse she had ripped off half of that dress she was wearing and in two shakes she was back in her tight denim shirt, her tighter blue jeans, and boots, strapping on her guns and pinning on the Sheriff’s badge.
“I’m the Sheriff now, lessen you got something to say about it,” she said, tapping the handles of her guns.
I just shrugged my shoulders. “Whatever you say, Sheriff.”
Amanda stormed back over to the hotel, and got there as Adam and Liz were leaving. It didn’t go well for Amanda. They sort of laughed at her, and Adam pretty much told her that he was flattered that she would dress like that for him, but he preferred a real cowgirl and not one who was playing dress up. It was too little, too late he told her.
Amanda’s mind was all confused now. Adam liked her then he didn’t, and I think her mind couldn’t sort it all out. Amanda had gone and changed herself, just for him, and it turned out he would have preferred the real Amanda.  Her mind was all jumbled between the real Amanda, who was cocky, arrogant, mean and ornery and ladylike Amanda, where she was sweet and quiet, and she couldn’t make up her mind what to do. Or maybe she was smart enough to know that she wanted Adam, so she couldn’t just shoot him, and she couldn’t just shoot Liz either. First off, that would not get her Adam. Second of all, since Big Dick had married Consuela that made Liz her step-sister. Third of all, since Liz was Consuela’s daughter that made her the big cheese in town in her mother’s absence and she couldn’t just shoot her down for no good reason. Even Amanda couldn’t get away with that. So, she just sort of stood there, dumbfounded, her mouth moving up and down but not saying anything as Adam and Liz strolled away, arm in arm.
“She ain’t getting away with this,” Amanda steamed.
   Amanda steamed and stewed for the next few days. Mainly she just kept an eye out for Adam, and if she saw him on the street she would rush out to strut in front of him. Most times he would just kind of shake his head sadly, like he was looking at a woman who just lost her marbles. Who knows, maybe she was. I think Amanda was still having trouble wrapping her mind around the whole thing. She had gone out of her way to become feminine and ladylike to catch her man, and she put all that time and effort into becoming a lady when it turned out he liked his women rough and tumble, which she really was like before she went all lacy and feminine. She was mad at everyone. She was mad at Big Dick for marrying Consuela, she was mad at Liz and her big ass, she was mad at Adam, and she was mad at herself. She spent all that time and energy, making a fool of herself and pretending to be a lady when if she had just been herself and strutted her perfect body in front of him like she did with everyone else she could have had him months ago.
   Amanda saw them on the street about a week after the wedding, and just about that time a stranger came riding into town, just passing through, and looking to stop and get a bath and maybe a drink before moving on. Being a stranger, he didn’t know about the no guns in town policy, and Amanda was going to put on a show for Adam.
   The old Amanda was back. She confronted the stranger, and before he could even comply with her demands to drop his gun she had him dancing in the street, firing at his feet. She had a couple of bullets left in her guns and told him to drop it. He promptly dropped his gun belt.
   “I said drop it,” she snapped, cocking one of her pistols.
   He had no idea what she meant.
   “Drop them pants!  And drop them now!” she snapped.
   That poor fella was scared shitless, let me tell you. He dropped his pants as ordered, but Amanda wasn’t satisfied and made him take off all his clothes, hat and boots included, until he was standing there buck naked with his hands over his privates. She told him to bring her his gun and when he went to bend over she fired a shot.
   “On your hands and knees, like the mangy cur you are, “she demanded.
   Amanda made that poor man pick up his gun belt with his teeth and crawl over to her on his hands and knees, like a dog. She took the belt and paraded him through town to the Sheriff’s office, making him crawl on his hands and knees the whole way. She kicked us all out of the jailhouse and locked herself inside with him. I went around back and looked in through one of the windows and I could see she had him chained to the cell, nose pressed against the bars, and she didn’t even bother stripping herself when she strapped on that big dildo of hers and you could hear that poor man screaming and begging for mercy. Amanda kept slapping him on the ass, screaming “Who’s the lady now, Adam!” as she raped that poor fella. When she was done she unchained him, and made that man clean that dildo before she locked him in a cell where he curled up in a ball, weeping like a little girl. Amanda stood there, stroking that dildo, and from the look in her eyes I swear she climaxed.
   “Not so tough now, are you, Adam,” she sneered.
   That big show was all for nothing, at least as far as impressing Adam or scaring Liz was concerned. They were long gone before Amanda had even whipped out her pistols. It did make an impression on the rest of the town. She had gone too far, many of the townsfolk thought, and it wasn’t long before the mayor, town council and about a dozen of the city leaders packed into the Sheriff’s office to tell her so.
   Amanda had been cleaning her pistols, and had just finished loading them when they walked in and let her know that what she had gone too far with that stranger.
   “Maybe you want to be next, Mister Mayor,” she sneered, cocking one of her pistols. “I’m the Sheriff now, and I make the rules. The Sheriff makes the rules, ain’t that what you said when we came and cleaned up your town?  We’re going to have some changes around here. Like that five percent you been crying about. Well, now it’s ten percent. Except for Consuela’s businesses, for them it’s 25 percent. And if you got any objections say them now.”  Amanda punctuated her last sentence by cocking both of her pistols.
   There were no objections, at least none that were said out loud. But I could see what they were thinking and was that this bitch is out of control and crazy but there wasn’t anything they could do about the situation. They all got out of there real quick like.
   The way Amanda saw it, those men had no backbone, and from then on, she was just an out of control, wild she-devil. Amanda did whatever she wanted, and she was worse than anything the town had ever experienced, even in the bad old days. Now Amanda didn’t kill anyone, but she shot up a few folks, just cause she felt like it, and just cause she was out to impress Adam and scare the hell out of Liz. But it seemed like every time she did this they would somehow wander off, and whatever damage she was doing was for nothing.
   All this couldn’t have come at a worse time. It had been two weeks since the wedding and Amanda was still looking for a reason to deal with Liz, and was just out of control in dealing with everyone else. In less than a month the people from the railroad were coming back to talk to the town leaders about the route the railroad would be taking and to begin construction. There was a bit of good news. Consuela and Big Dick were cutting their honeymoon short and would be back in town less than a month after the wedding. Big Dick, it seems, has been sick as a dog since the wedding, and the trip east didn’t help things, and once they got on the boat he got so seasick they had to come back. The telegraph office got the message less than a week before they was to return, and hard as it is to believe, people were actually looking forward to Big Dick’s return.
   Everyone except Amanda, who now saw she had less than a week to get rid of Liz. Once Big Dick and his wife, Liz’s mother, got back it would be damn near impossible to get rid of her. Amanda found a bit of luck when she heard that Adam was leaving town for a week or two to deal with some business, and when she saw him riding out of town she stormed into the Spanish Rose. Amanda gave up looking for a reason to get rid of Liz and just flat out told her she had 24 hours to leave town. Or else!
   Liz laughed and told Amanda to go put on her petticoat and stop play cowboy. Amanda was mad as hell and just “24 hours…or else!” and stormed out. I didn’t see much of Liz that day or night and thought that maybe she had skedaddled after all. Early the next morning I was in the dining room of the Spanish Rose, enjoying coffee with Amy, and the place was pretty full. Not just the dining room but the bar, and the gambling hall. Of course, the gambling hall was usually busy. I saw the Mayor, and some of the members of the town council were sprinkled around in various parts of the joint. That wasn’t unusual, since it was the best place in town, and it had the best dining room, the best saloon and the best gambling hall, and having them all under one roof, and having the prettiest gals in town running around half dressed didn’t hurt business at all. A few weeks back a new business opened up in one of Consuela’s storefronts, what they call a photography studio, where the fella, called a photographer, uses a newfangled camera to take a picture of you or whatever you want. He and his wife were in the Rose, setting up their equipment to take some pictures so Consuela could use them for advertising. I remember her saying something about this before she left.
   So, the place was pretty packed, especially the dining room and gambling hall. Even though it was early there were still quite a few people at the bar. Of course, that ain’t unusual, considering we were on South Street. I was still a deputy, and I was so used to checking out everyone that it was second nature.
   Pretty soon Amanda stormed in, wearing her usual tight clothes, her two-gun rig, and carrying a double-barreled shotgun. She didn’t say anything at first and just stormed in and let loose with the shotgun, and that got everyone’s attention. She tossed it aside and said, “Now where is that Mexican whore?”

[lalutte65]

Outstanding, this is more like a novel, great character Developement and no rush setting the action scene, which I look forward to reading.
Interesting to see what you do with johnna.

If you have written anything similar, hope you publish it here.

Great job so far

[Sandman13]

I am not complaining whatsoever but man! This is one long story!

[Amanda44]

Carl, as i all ready said i am very honered to be a big part of your story. It is really very talently written. But because it is such a long, long story not everybody takes the time to read it.

And that is a shame.

Thanks again hun,


Am