Water and Women

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The main room of the saloon was occupied by the bartender, four men standing at the bar, two men at a table playing gin rummy, and one man asleep in a chair, his muddy boots propped on the table, his Stetson pulled down over his eyes. Cigar haze and the smells of bourbon and draught beer filled the air. Dirty clothes worn several weeks – some even several months – reeked of heavy perspiration, loose farts, and equally offensive other body odors.

The mattresses and scant pillows in the sleeping rooms upstairs (all, save one) smelled equally as bad. Body lice was fairly common.

Bill the blacksmith was the only man in this small town who owned a tub big enough for bathing, and the tub was crammed in the back corner of the loft, over the livery stable he had inherited from the last owner. Currently, the tub was painted with bird droppings from the pigeon nests in the rafters, and filled with stray tools, old boots, rags…and a mother cat nursing six kittens. The porcelain was scratched and chipped, but not yet rusted. There was no drainhole.

Walt, Rake, Jesse, Bill and Tom stood at the bar, arguing about water. O’Toole, the Chinese bartender, dried shot glasses, listened intently, and stealthily eyed the men’s reflections in the big mirror behind the bar. Every fifteen minutes for the last two hours, O’Toole lugged buckets of hot water upstairs, boiled on the stove in the kitchen off the bar. A fastidiously clean man, O’Toole washed and pressed his clothes once a week.

“You don’t normally do washin’ on a Wednesday, O’Toole,” Walt noticed. “And that sure is a hell of a lot of water you’re totin’. Your barrel outside must be near empty.”

“Yes, O’Toole replied. “Busy, busy. Must be clean. Cook in kitchen busy, busy, too.”

Rake said, “Well, the creek is gonna dry up one of these days, and they’s gotta be a well dug for this town. If we ain’t got water, we ain’t got women. And we need women.” He scratched the crotch of his well-worn britches and picked a flea off his sleeve, squeezing it between his long fingernails.

“Yeah?” said Walt, running the back of his hand under his nose. His beard and mustache were stained with chewing tobacco. “And jes’ how we gonna get a well dug for women if we ain’t got women to get more men here to dig the well? Men jes’ ain’t gonna come where they ain’t no women, and women ain’t gonna come where they ain’t no water handy for bathin’and washin’.”

“That’s right,” Tom said. “Women don’t like to bathe in the creek when they ain’t enough bushes to hide behind, and that creek ain’t got nary a shrub or tree nearby of any height. Women like it private. But I’d surely love to watch ’em get nekkid and wet with them nice smellin’ soaps all bubbly and shinin’, suds all over their … mmm, mmm, mmmmmm.” He picked his nose, rolled the booger between his thumb and forefinger, then flicked it into space. “Yessir, I would surely love to see that.”

Jesse pushed his hat back from his forehead, and hung his boot on the bar rail attached to the bottom of the bar. “We’re here, ain’t we? And we’re men. We came knowin’ they ain’t no gals here. We took the risk. “

Bill smiled a broad, somewhat toothless grin, and said in his slow drawl, “We come here

to pan for gold, and that’s that. Didn’t matter there weren’t no women when all we wanted was the gold. Now that we got a jingle in our pockets, and a stash in our mattresses, now we want women. Can’t have one without the other, fer sure. Ain’t no fun havin’ so much money when they ain’t a bunch a purty women to spend it all for ya.”

O’Toole turned to the men and said, “Dogs barking far off. Stagecoach is coming.”

Their eyes got bright with excitement until Rake said, “This is just delivery. No one rides into Destry mid-week. Never.”

They listened to the sounds of wagon wheels pounding the dirt road in the distance, and collectively knew the coach would arrive any minute. But with no passengers on it, they all turned back to the bar, uninterested, and began the argument again about the well and when they should start digging, how long it would take, where it should be located, etc.

Tom piped in again, that big smile on his face, “Let’s hurry, boys, so we can get them women here! Nekkid women washin’. I tell ya, I can’t wait to see ’em!”

The stage coach pulled up right in front of O’Toole’s, and the driver hopped down. He wiped his hands on the back of his pants, removed his hat and smoothed down his hair, then ran the sleeve of his shirt across his mouth before he stepped to the door of the coach and dropped a wooden box on the ground.

“We’re here in Destry, Miss. Right here at O’Toole’s, like I promised.”

“Oh, Mr. Driver, Sweetie. You have been so very kind. Allow me to offer you my hankie. You may return it to me for redemption the next time you come through, you dear, wonderful man!”

Talk at the bar came to a halt, and all heads quickly turned at the sound of the woman’s soft, slow drawl. O’Toole ran from behind the bar to the swinging bahis firmaları doors, and held them open. Small female feet in the daintiest of heels clicked across the boardwalk to the entry of the saloon, and the swish of silks, satin, and petticoats announced her arrival right before she stepped through the doors.

O’Toole offered her both of his clean and well-manicured hands, and he bowed low. “Miss GG, welcome to Destry. You are more lovely than I imagined!”

The driver stepped through the doors carrying the first of GG’s three trunks. “S’cuse me, Miss GG. I’ll set these down right here. He looked up at the men in the room as he placed the trunk on the floor. His cheek and the corner of his mouth carried the unmistakable imprint of GG’s lip rouge.

The two gin rummy players laid down their cards, while the men at the bar stood open-mouthed and could only stare. GG was more than a sight for sore eyes. Surely she was a vision and not real. Her dress was layer upon layer of purple and black satin, edged all around with four inches of white and black lace. Though it dragged the ground behind her, the front of her dress was a full eighteen inches high off the floor, showing her feet in black lace-up ankle heels, holding up holy shit lovely legs. Pretty little legs showcased in silk! The men’s eyes traveled uniformly from her feet all the way up the front of her dress. Not only was the top of her dress open, the cleavage of her enormous titties was exposed, showcased in ribbons, silk and lace, and she dabbed a fresh hankie on her bared bosom. On her head was pinned the latest fashion from Paris, well illustrated with several large ostrich plumes.

“Thank you so kindly, Mr. O’Toole!” GG said. She removed the pin from her hat and held it delicately in her gloved hands.

“Please, Miss GG. Please call me Chin. I’ve waited a long time to hear you say my name out loud.”

“Yes, Chin. Chin O’Toole. Thank you.

“It has been a rather warm day,” she sighed, “and I’m afraid I am really quite the mess. It was a very long ride from St. Louis. The dust of the road is in my hair and on my skin, and I do so need a long, luxurious naked bath! Please tell me you have it ready for me. I really must strip completely out of my traveling clothes, and bathe my naughty, naked skin before you formally present me to these magnificent gentlemen gathered here.”

Chin bowed again. “Your bath awaits upstairs, Miss. GG.”

Jake knocked over his beer on the bar as he reached out to Walt, hit him on the chest, and said, “Walt! Close your mouth!”

Walt coughed and choked, dropped his cowboy hat, then stooped to pick it up. His hand reached out aimlessly, far from his hat, because he was not looking at the floor. His eyes were transfixed on GG’s exposed titties. The very tips of her nipples were not completely hidden behind the miniscule inch of black lace, and in his mind he was already exposing, kissing, fondling and sucking them.

GG curtsied, kissed O’Toole’s cheek, stepped away from O’Toole and walked toward the men at the bar.

She said, “Looks like I need to speak to this gentleman before that bath, Chin. He is giving me an unmistakably happy greeting.”

GG sashayed her silks and satins over to Walt, bent to guide him up from his stooped position, leaving his hat on the floor five feet away. Walt’s eyes never left her titties. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his scrubby face, and exclaimed, “Sir! How lovely to meet you. I appreciate your unabashed and involuntary welcome of my presence. I hope we have many opportunities to speak and play in less formal circumstances. I have missed the exposure of healthy male cocks while traveling, and I sincerely appreciate your magnificent specimen which stood at attention upon my entry today!”

Walt stood stock still, holding his breath.

“May I touch him softly, pretty please?” GG asked.

Walt nodded slowly, his mouth still open.

GG batted her eyelashes several times, kissed the corner of his mouth again, and ran her hand along his cock over the top of his pants. Walt’s knees buckled and he grabbed the bar.

In the same breath, she whirled around, her years of experience sensing an uninvited intrusion, and soundly smacked Tom’s hands before he could touch her dress.

Tom’s face blushed crimson with embarrassment and he hid his chastened hands behind his back. “I’m really sorry, Ma’am. I didn’t mean no offense. I swear. I never seen anything so purty, ever. Not ever. My hands just reached out before I even thought.”

“I had to stop you before you touched the satin, Sugar.”

She directed her next question at Chin. “Still no laundry facilities for expensive fabrics, right?”

Chin said, “Not yet, Missy. Not for any fabrics, really, except my cook who also washes the sheets here in the rooms. Hopefully soon.”

She looked back at Tom, and at each man in the room. “Then I must enlist all your help to keep my finery in good shape. Oh – as well as the silk and satin clothes of all kaçak iddaa the lovely women also en route to Destry.”

No one spoke. The men still stared, open-mouthed.

Walt finally stooped again and found his hat. He cleared his throat and asked GG, “You said, ‘lovely women in route to Destry’? They’s more comin’?”

“Oh, my, yes! With Chin’s – Mr. O’Toole’s help – I have been scouring multiple cities in Wichita, New Orleans, Chicago and the like to find adventurous and quite willing – and may I add, very lovely – young ladies who want to meet and play with all you rough and rugged men.

“You all do want women here, yes?” GG asked, smiling at the men. “Because they will begin arriving over the next ninety days.”

Jesse blurted out, stumbling over each word, “But…we…we jes’ ain’t ready! There ain’t no well. We need more time!”

GG laughed softly and said, “That will come much sooner than you know. I trust your ability to move quickly and make things happen.

“In the meantime, please think about this: If you men have any thoughts or desires of your hands on me and my clothes – or of removing my lovely clothes to touch my wonderfully bare body – you must first scrub those hands and trim your nails. The dresses I brought with me must last for who knows how long. They must stay as clean as possible until we can coerce the arrival of a dressmaker, a tailor, and a Chinese laundry to Destry.

GG pulled at the fingertips of her left hand very slowly and removed her glove as she spoke.

“So, please know we women require” – she paused and placed a painted nail to her bottom lip – “No, insist is a much better word. We women insist that you keep your hands clean and your nails trimmed if you want to touch our lovely bodies.”

“Oh…and one other thing. Y’all are gonna need to bathe regularly if you plan to lie on my clean sheets.”

Jesse stepped one foot closer and asked timidly, “What’dya mean, ‘regular’, Miss GG? My ma bathed me once’t a month when I was at home. Forced me, she did. I ain’t had such a wicked scrubbin’ since I got on my own.”

His clothes, dirty skin, and body odor bore witness to his words.

GG looked at Jesse and smiled. She got up close to him as she dared so she could still inhale freely without choking, then extended her finger along his jawline.

“What’s your name, Sweetie?” GG asked.

Jesse scratched his cheek and cleared his throat, and still his words barely squeaked out. “Jesse, Miss.”

“Men call me GG, Jesse. Do you like all that you see in front of you, Jesse?”

Jesse nodded quickly. “Uh, sure do, Miss GG. All of everything I see.”

“Think you’d like to swim naked in the creek with me?” she asked, slowly, staring deep into his eyes.

Jesse dropped his face and blushed crimson. The men roared with laughter.

Rake said, trying to stifle a smile, “Uh, Jesse here ain’t had much chance to be with a woman, Miss GG. Don’t know that he’s ever seen one nekkid.”

“That’s fer sure!” Bill added. “He’s mebbe seen some photos of women in their bloomers ‘n such, when a peddler came through here.”

GG slowly lifted Jesse’s embarrassed chin with the bare index finger of her left hand, and held the fingertip of her right gloved hand at the top of her lip, to block out his stench, but he was still blushing fiercely and could not look her in the eyes.

“Jesse,” she whispered. “Smile for me, pretty please.”

Jesse smiled and tried to meet her eyes again, but looked away.

She turned his head and said, “Look right here at my lovely titties, Jesse.”

Jesse obeyed with no problem..

“They’re just as lovely as they can be – don’t you agree? And see my luscious nipples under the lace? Wouldn’t you like to see all of this completely uncovered, sinking down into the creek with you this close…or even closer? And one day join me in my boudoir?”

Jesse, as well as the other men, stumbled at her French.

“Boodwhat?” Jesse asked.

“Oh! GG giggled. I’m so sorry. In my bedroom. In my bed, between my clean sheets.”

Jesse nodded rapidly. He stuttered, “Oh. Oh. Oh, yes, Miss GG. I powerful surely would!”

“Then you will bathe, with soap, and scrub yourself all over. Once a week.”

“All over my drawers? How’m I gonna get my drawers dry?” he asked, appalled.

“No, Jesse. You will remove your drawers! You must bathe and scrub naked.”

Jesse stepped back away from GG, doubled his fists, and pounded both of his thighs indignantly.

“I never!”

GG smiled and curtsied. “Thank you, Jesse. You no longer have to worry about these,” and she drew her hand across her luscious titties.

Jesse stomped out of the saloon, muttering to himself, pounding his fists against his legs.

Rake said softly, “He’s jest a boy, still – inside, anyways, Miss GG. He don’t mean no offense.”

GG giggled again, softly. “Oh, Rake, I know that. And I am most certainly not offended. He will come around soon, wanting what you men – and all the other men kaçak bahis – will be talking about. Jesse will be fine. He needs to take it in smaller bites is all.”

GG slowly removed her remaining glove to show off her soft, white hands to the men. “These are the fingers and two small hands that will be touching you, ev-er-y-where. If you want that, I mean.” She dragged an index finger across her titties, down below the inch of black lace covering her nipples, slowly circled her nipple, then popped that finger into her mouth. “I taste delicious, Fellas. And just as I am certain you would not want me covered in dirt and nasty smells when you spend time with me, I anticipate that you will trouble yourselves with full baths of soap and water before you let my and hands and my soft lips explore you and your body parts.”

“I declare, Ma’am,” Bill spoke slowly. “Your language is so forward, and your words so plain to understand. Are you a lady or, uh…a whore?”

Rake back-handed Bill across the face. “Watch yer language, Bill.”

Bill reeled backwards and caught himself . “I didn’t mean…Miss…I wasn’t trying to say…to be impolite.”

“Please, Gentlemen. Your gallantry is noted,” she said to Rake, “but I can answer his question. I am not offended.”

She looked at Bill and said, “I would like to know your name, please.”

He rubbed his face where Rake had slapped him, cleared his throat, and dragged his boot across the floor, nervous. “Name’s Bill, Ma’am. Bill Withers. I’m the blacksmith. I have the livery at the end of the street, yonder.”

He pointed to Rake, and then to every other man in turn. “This here’s Rake Effry. Rake’s the sheriff, as you can see by his badge.”

Rake held up his vest with the badge pinned to it. He tipped his hat at GG.

“Then this here is Tom. Tom runs the mercantile.”

Tom’s mouth opened to speak but his throat was dry. He poured beer down his throat. “Howdy, Miss. You jes’ tell me what you want in my store, and it’ll be there directly. I promise.”

“Thank you, Tom,” GG said.

Bill continued, “And well, you met Jesse. He’s a cowhand at the L ‘n J Ranch.

“Those two fellas at the table playin’ cards,” – they both looked at GG, stood up quickly, and tipped their hats – “is Bob Johnson, owns the L’n J, and Jim Henry, his foreman.”

“How do you do, gentlemen?” GG said, and curtsied.

“The fella sleepin’ over there is Hal Ketcham. He is a brickmaker by trade, and an architect. But he’s also the proprietor of our only bank.”

“Thank you, Bill.

“Now I will answer your question. I am a very well-paid influence in your life, and I am here to teach you what you don’t know about women. You need to discover everything you possibly can learn before the women come to Destry. And there’s no one here to teach you what you truly need to know. I mean, no one except me. I am a lady. I am a woman. And I will teach each of you in private settings. I speak plainly so you can understand me. I am well-educated, but have no need to put on airs. I am soft, firm, and really very flexible. Get used to me, Fellas. I love to fuck. I love to be naked with men. But only with clean men.

“And I humbly suggest that all of you lovely gentlemen salute Mr. Chin O’Toole for his diligence and hard work in procuring my presence. Were it not for his money and all of his efforts, as well as his many months of correspondence with me, you would be without this opportunity.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I really must strip completely out of these traveling clothes, and soak my very naked body in a tub of hot water, soap and bubbles. And I need a nap, too, Chin. Is my bed made up with the clean linen I shipped last month?”

“Yes, Miss GG. Allow me to escort you upstairs and show you your accommodations. I will have your supper ready for you when you wake from your nap.”

Chin picked up GG’s bag and led the way upstairs. He looked over his shoulder and said, “Any of you men want to haul her trunks upstairs, Miss GG would be mighty pleased.”

GG glanced back down and blew a kiss to the men.

Every eye in the room weighed in on her derriere as it swooped up the stairs.

Rake and Walt hoisted her trunks on their shoulders and followed GG and Chin. They all disappeared into the one big room at the end of the hall – the room Chin had not allowed any of them to use as a sleeping room – and the men downstairs were left to wonder what they would miss.

“More women are a’ comin’, Fellas,” Bill said. “You heard her. And we ain’t ready.”

Bob Johnson walked over to the center of the room, and Jim Henry followed.

“Then we best get ready, don’tcha think?” Bob said. “I got lots of cowhands, and I believe I can spare more than a few, especially right now while the cattle are grazing the south pasture, and there’s plenty of incentive for my men to move quickly. Not only do we need to get a well dug, I say we need to lay pipe here to Chin’s place so Miss GG and the rest of them ladies have all the water they need.

“I mean, j’ever hear anything as pretty as that little laugh that came outta her throat?

“Whatd’ya think, Jim? Can we spare a dozen or so men? We’ve got plenty of shovels, for sure.”

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