The Best Revenge

Vista del Fuego was like any other rowdy border town. Chris Larabee had left Purgatorio the day before and should've headed for home, but he'd heard the women in Vista del Fuego could be pretty lively. He had some time and a few dollars left, so he thought he'd give the place a chance.

After he'd settled in at the hotel, Chris Larabee headed straight for the saloon. A slender young woman  was on the tiny stage, singing in front of a roomful of drunken cowboys and freight handlers.

"Whaddya think?" asked the barkeep, nodding in the direction of the stage. The woman onstage was singing "Lorena," a love song from the Civil War days.

Chris smiled. "She's certainly pretty."

"'The Nebraska Nightingale', she calls herself." The barkeep shook his head ruefully.

Something familiar about the singer tugged at the corners of Chris's memory. He finished his drink as the Nebraska Nightingale finished her song. One of the cowboys grabbed her, pulling her off the stage and catching her in his arms as she struggled to escape. He set her on her feet and began to paw clumsily at her dress. She fought him as the others laughed and cheered him on.

Chris pushed aside the other patrons. "Let her go."

With an arm wrapped around her shoulders, the cowboy turned to face Chris. "Git yer own! I saw 'er first!"

Chris pulled aside the flap of his coat, his hand near his gun. He wasn't one to open fire indoors, but he hoped the threat would be enough to end this quickly.

The cowboy eyed Chris and the gun, and sobered up a bit. "Just funnin', Mister. Here." He shoved her at him. "She's all yers. Too bony fer me anyways."

The woman stared up at Chris with wide eyes.

Chris's eyes narrowed. "Rachel?"

"Chris?"

He caught her by the arm and led her out of the saloon. "C'mon," he said tersely. "I know a place where we can talk."

Chris led her to his room at the local hotel, ignoring the suspicious looks from the desk clerk, and sat her abruptly on the bed.

"What in God's name are you doin' here?" He demanded.

"Well, hello to you, too, after all this time. What does it look like?"

"Want me to tell you?"

She sighed. "I'm singing. I'm working my way to San Francisco. I do sing, remember?"

Chris nodded. "You sang in the church choir, not saloons. Why ain't you in Indiana?"

She looked at him, with a smile. "I'm surprised you even remembered. You always went for those fast, loose, skinny types like that Ella Gaines. Men like you didn't bother with girls like me."

"A lot's changed. I've changed."

"Enough to want me now?" She moved closer. For the first time, he noticed that she'd lost a lot of weight since he'd seen her last. And she'd certainly grown up.

She was right, he thought. He remembered her as a shy, ample young woman. And prim. He used to say how she could give propriety lessons to nuns. And the Chris Larabee of those days liked his women a lot "friendlier."

He smiled, embarrassed. "Rachel, you weren't the type of girl a man like me–"

"Not good enough for you?" She put her arms around his neck.

Chris shook his head, pulling her hands away. "Too good." He could already feel a stirring deep within his body with this decidedly grown-up woman, and he didn't trust himself. He walked over to the dresser, leaving her sitting on the bed, and picked up a bottle.

"Drink?" He poured her a glass of whiskey and handed it to her.

Rachel held it up in a toast. "To renewing old acquaintances."

He held up the bottle in salute, then took a long pull from it. The amber liquid burned his throat but did nothing to dampen the fires he felt in his groin.

Several drinks later, he was feeling much more jovial, if a little sleepy. He stared at Rachel a moment and grinned.

She smiled back. "What are you staring at?"

He laughed. "Drunk as I am–and drunk as you are–I'll probably always think of you as that little nun."

She made a face as he poured her another drink. They laughed and talked about old times late into the night, until the sedative effect of the liquor turned into sleep.

It was morning when Chris opened his eyes with a start. He was on his back on the bed. He lifted his head and saw he was completely nude. He tried to move but found himself unable to move his arms or legs. His wrists and ankles were tied firmly by silk scarves to the corners of the bed.

"Morning." Rachel stood naked at the end of the bed, staring at him. She bent close to him and brushed her hand against his cheek. "You need a shave," she purred.

She went to the dresser and brought back a bowl of water, his shaving soap, and a towel. Her movements were slow and fluid, like a cat, as she sat beside him again.

"Rachel–" He watched her work the soap into a lather. He watched her as she picked up his opened straight razor. Chris felt the cool steel press against his the skin of his scrotum. "What are you doing!?"

The blade slowly, gently scraped along his skin. He sucked in his breath and his whole body went rigid. His green eyes followed her every move.

"Shhh. I should think you wouldn't want to cause my hand to slip."

She gently grazed the razor over each of his balls, sponging him with the warm, wet cloth as she went. Chris didn't flinch as he helplessly waited for her to finish. She carefully but firmly wrapped the fingers of one hand around his shaft. His penis stiffened in her hand, as she scraped away the froth of curls surrounding the base. She smiled but said nothing.

"There." She wiped her hands on a towel with a satisfied smile. She put the bowl back on the dresser before resuming her place beside him. "You always made a lot of assumptions about me. Now I want you to really get to know me."

Chris didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. He let it out with a sigh, his eyes still on her.

Rachel smiled and bent over him. She raked her tongue over his now pink, smooth sac. Chris arched his back. He didn't think it was possible but he grew even harder when she touched the sensitive skin. She looked at him, her eyes bright. Gently she took one testicle in her mouth, slowly rolling her tongue around it.

"Oh, my God!" he gasped "Rachel, please–!" He raised his head to look at her.

She released his testicle and sucked the other one, like a ripe plum in her mouth. She licked the velvet pouch again.

He sighed as his head fell back. His erection swelled till it felt like it might burst.

With her tongue, Rachel slowly began to trace a path up each side of his throbbing sex, but she avoided the engorged head. He moaned in frustration and thrust his hips slightly to encourage her. She smiled and flicked her tongue at the drop of moisture that had welled up at the tip.

"Rach–Rachel…please," he begged in a hoarse whisper. "Oh, God…" he breathed, with a soft hiss.

She ran her tongue over the crimson head. At last she opened her lips wide to take him as far down her throat as possible.

His body twisted against his bonds. Even if he could get free, he doubted he wanted to right now. She began to move her head up and down his length, varying her rhythm. Chris moaned softly. With each throb of his groin, the sensitive crown flared slightly in her mouth. Chris could tell she was enjoying this power over him and she took her time, prolonging the sweet torture as much as possible.

He thrust his hips again to urge her on and she stopped abruptly. His gasp caught in his throat as she gave his balls another firm squeeze, this time more gently.

"Don't move" she said ominously. "This is my show."

Chris searched her eyes in surprise and confusion. With an effort, he forced his body to keep still as she continued, increasing her rhythm on his shaft. He was completely lost in the steamy wetness of her mouth.

An urgent desire to come was rising from deep within, a tingling warmth that spread throughout his entire body, all the way into his fingers and toes. The sensation gave way to a more intense pulsing that steadily and quickly intensified, taking him just to the edge and suspending him there. He raised his head.

She slid her hand under him, along the curve of his buttocks. He felt her fingertip gently probing his anus. Chris stiffened with a sharp intake of breath.

Rachel paused. "Open for me," she whispered, waiting.

He forced his body to relax until the tight ring of muscle slowly yielded to her touch. As he felt her finger press past the puckered opening, his breath caught in his throat. He felt her probing deeper until she found the warmly swollen gland. She stroked it gently and the focus moved now from his penis to somewhere deeper inside his body. Pleasure spread throughout him till he wondered if he could die from it. Chris moaned loudly as the overwhelming sensations pushed him over the edge.

She was watching him, her eyes glittering. He felt the flat of the razor blade again pressing against his hairless scrotum. "Don't come unless I tell you to," she said softly.

His fists balled, as he struggled against the need to deliver. It was too much. Finally, his head turned wildly from side to side as Chris panted through clenched teeth. "I can't–! I can't hold back!"

His back arched, his body straining against the bonds that still held his wrists. There was a feeling of sinking, of falling, and then his whole being was flung into oblivion. His eyes snapped open, a glazed look in them. He threw back his head and cried out as he came. He felt himself drain completely, flooding her mouth, leaving him dazed and weakened.

Rachel swallowed, licking him clean. She sucked the last drops from the shaft, blew softly on the hot, damp skin and lightly kissed the tip of him.

She suddenly gave his balls a quick squeeze and he gasped instinctively.

"I told you not to come without permission," she said with a teasing smile.

He felt as if he couldn't move ever again. His entire body was now limp and relaxed. His penis lay soft and hot against his thigh.

She reached over to the little table beside the bed and took a small bottle from her handbag. She poured a little of the contents into her palm and gently massaged his chest. A light scent of .sweet almond oil clung to his skin. The chest muscles tensed for moment when she raked her nails gently over each nipple.

Her blonde hair hid her face as she ran the tip of her tongue lightly down his belly, stopping just above the groin. He could feel her hot breath against his skin and his penis began to slowly rise again in response. Rachel carefully untied his ankles, but left his wrists bound to the bed.

"You came without permission," she repeated. "You have to do a penance."

He smiled in realization as she slowly climbed his reclining body, until her knees were on either side of his head.

Rachel lowered herself carefully over his mouth. She gasped at the first touch of his tongue against her labia. He teased the fleshy lips, nibbling at them. She squirmed in response. He tasted her natural wetness as he licked gently at the shell-like opening. She moaned and began to writhe. He probed her with his tongue until he found the hood of her clitoris.

He flicked his tongue over the sensitive nub as her breathing grew ragged as she pressed herself against his mouth. Her body trembled all over and then she came. He lapped greedily at her wetness. Finally she moved away from his face until she was straddling his hips. She was still wet, and he could feel it against his own hardness.

"Now, how about some real fun," he smiled at last. He tugged gently at his restraints as a hint.

Rachel grinned. She picked up his razor and for a moment his face blanched. In two quick movements, she had cut the silk scarves, freeing his wrists.

Immediately he reached up and gently squeezed her full breasts. God, he had never noticed how attractive she really was. The years behind them seemed to melt away. He paused and searched her face, hungry and yet uncertain. The warmth in her eyes spurred him on.

He rolled on top of her, his narrow hips settling between her parted thighs. His erection pressed against her, searching for the deepest, most intimate part of her. His mouth found hers and he kissed her hungrily, deeply. She brushed her lips softly against his.

Chris softly nuzzled her throat. He moved his head lower and gently took one nipple in his mouth and released it, then the other, teasing each of them lightly till they hardened like pink diamonds. His tongue flickered against the tiny, sensitive buds He traced a line of kisses down her belly, shifted his weight a little, then kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth hungrily.

He took one of her hands and lightly rested it on his back. Her fingertips brushed over his skin. When he breached her at last she opened up, like a flower in bloom, to receive him. His length entered her slowly, feeling the tropic heat and pressure engulfing his sex.

Chris felt old wounds starting to heal with her touch. He felt whole and alive as he moved within her in an ever-increasing rhythm. It was a feeling so long unfamiliar it overwhelmed him. His ears were filled with the pounding of his heart against his ribs as he headed toward a conclusion he could not control.

She arched her back and gasped, her fingertips digging into his muscles. Her hands raked through his hair. Finally, with a cry, she came. He could feel her orgasm through the tip of his penis. It spread gradually throughout his body, too, as the urgency of his own crisis begin to overtake him, like a wave threatening to carry him away. It began at the base of his spine, a tingling warmth that surrounded his tightening scrotum, rising up to pulse through the length of him. His whole body shuddered, and then there was that feeling of falling again he climaxed, the warm fluid spouting thickly into her. His entire body convulsed with each throb, and he clasped her tightly to him as if his only salvation lay in not letting her go.

At last, spent, he slipped out of her. His palms slid down her sides, resting lightly on her thighs. He touched the soft folds. His hand felt a warm stickiness. He withdrew his fingers from her, and looked at them curiously. Blood. He was confused for just a moment, then comprehension in his eyes as the truth dawned on him.

"My God," he whispered. "You've never–"

Rachel pulled him to her and kissed him deeply, her tongue entering past his lips to explore inside his mouth.

At last Chris got up to retrieve the bowl of water, a bar of soap, and another towel from the dresser. He sat beside her on the bed and cleansed her gently thoroughly, sponging her stained sex.

Chris leaned over her and his lips brushed against the curve of her throat. When he kissed her again, she pulled at his lower lip with her teeth. He ran his hands up the length of her body, over her hips, along her ribs, over each breast till they came to a stop at her shoulders. He reached under her and pulled her to him, his palms pressed against her back.

Finally he lowered her upper body back against the sheets. He still held her for a long time, occasionally placing soft kisses all over her face. He could feel Rachel's body start to tremble in his arms. He held her even closer, tightly, until the trembling stopped. They fell asleep like that, nestled in each other's arms.

Chris awoke slowly. He lay quietly on his back, his eyes closed. He could tell the sun had come up. He could feel the warmth on his face. Inside, though, his mind still reeled. Was it love? Or was it just the comfort of being with someone familiar? He wasn't sure, but he thought he might want to find out.

He opened his eyes and turned his head, squinting against the sunlight that filled the room. The pillow beside him was empty. He raised his head and looked around the room. Anything that indicated Rachel had been there was gone. For a moment he wondered if it had been a dream. If it had, it had been a pretty incredible one and he'd welcome getting back to sleep.

Then he saw the note on the dresser beside a lipstick-tinged whiskey glass. He got out of bed and picked up the note as his eyes finished adjusting to the light.

It read: "It was wonderful seeing you. Perhaps I'll see you again. Regards from San Francisco. Rachel."

Chris suddenly felt an emptiness in the pit of his stomach as he continued reading. Now, when he wanted her most, she was gone.

"P.S. You know, someone once said looking good is the best revenge. But I think I like my way better. Don't you? "

He had to agree.

The End