Dede’s War

She giggled and disappeared in a swish of skirts. Dede eyed the fabric enviously. She had not been in a dress since… that day. Her last dress had been ruined by the blood of her father, as she knelt down over his body. Suddenly the old anger raged up inside her. Her nostrils flared as she remembered the lifeless face of the most wonderful father on earth, empty, stiff, vacant.

She felt like crying, but used her anger to control her tears. Dandy looked into her eyes and sighed. “Ok, we will find them,” he said, standing and catching Clara’s attention.

“We’ll be right back,” he said with a fond smile. Dede felt jealously rise up, then she controlled it. She did not own Dandy… not yet.

As they arrived at the hotel, Surna stumbled out, backing onto the boardwalk. He had his pistol in his hands, checking it’s loads. Villareal and Travino stepped out behind him, confident and annoyed by the seeming cowardice of their partner. Their eyes went to Dede, then Dandy. Surna looked up and gasped.

“That’s them,” he said, bringing up his pistol. Dede drew and fired without knowing that she had done it. Surna flew back, slammed into the hotel wall, and fell to the walk.
Villareal and Travino separated and drew as one man.

Dandy fired into Villareal twice. Dede fanned the hammer of her smaller gun, putting three quick shots into Travino. Travino spun like a puppet on a string. The .36 caliber balls of lead spun him one way and then the other, but he wouldn’t go down.

Suddenly Travino fired twice. One shot hit Dandy in the left arm, spinning him around. The second shot missed Dede by a hair. She felt the bullet tug at her sleeve. She shot again, then found her pistol empty. She had no idea where the other shot had gone.

As she drew her second pistol, Dandy’s gun roared and Travino jerked under the impact of his larger .44 caliber bullet. It slammed him into the board wall. A red spot appeared in the center of his chest. His knees crumpled and he folded up in front of them.

“Well, this is damned annoying,” Dandy said, covering his bleeding arm with his hand. Blood seeped out through his fingers. He started toward Franchesca’s house automatically. She might be a whore, but she was also the best doctor in town. Dede followed until she saw where he was heading. She suddenly grabbed his good arm and pushed him toward the store. He laughed and followed meekly.

She fixed his arm with iodine, strips torn from a new white shawl, and a new shirt. They returned to the restaurant and Clara appeared with their heavily loaded plates.
“Franchesca will be happy,” Clara said as she served them. “She wanted a husband, but she’s Catholic.”

“Speaking of that, I guess we should look for the Padre, before we take that long ride back to Texas,” Dandy said, then stuffed his mouth with steak. He smiled as he looked into Dede’s prim and happy face. She looked very pleased.

“Oh,” Clara said, stomping her foot. It was the first time that she had realized there was a real bond between them. Her chances at Dandy were gone. Dede laughed, trying not to choke on her steak.
She was married that evening in one of Clara’s dresses.

Three weeks later a lone man urged his horse up a slight incline. He was leading a riderless horse by the bridal.

“Ouch!” A female voice broke the stillness. “Do you have to wear those damned chaps?”
A woman’s legs were barely distinguishable, locked behind his back. They were bare, as were most of his. Riding almost naked from the waist down, Dandy used the easy movement of his walking horse to feed his cock into his wife’s hungry pussy. They kissed urgently, while the gentle rocking helped him fuck his wife in a pleasant, non-demanding manner. Dandy still wore his boots and chaps to protect him from the brush and cactus. His new wife knew this as well as he did, so he didn’t bother answering. But the chaps were rubbing her inner thighs raw.

Dandy stared down at his wife’s open legs and again marveled at her sexy, mysterious beauty. She was manly in many ways, but all woman where it counted. The tendons stood out in her thighs in sharp relief. Her legs were slender and beautiful in the waning light of the setting sun. The desert was cooling, as it did every night. The setting sun on the desert was beautiful.
Dede’s pussy was sinfully hot around Dandy’s cock. This was a new and blissful experience for him. All other sex had been in the stuffy confines of a whore’s house. It has been nothing more than relief. Sex with his new wife was surprising, exciting, and always different. She was so clinging, so full of life and love.

“We need a wagon,” he complained, as a mesquite bush raked the bare skin of his left leg.
“A carriage, one with a back seat so we can park and make love wherever we want,” she said between gasps. She kissed him again, then looked around guiltily. They had not seen anyone in three days. Chances were, they would not while making love. But you never knew who was around, especially Indians.

“It would never catch on, making love in a back seat,” he chuckled.
“I don’t know, it’s more comfortable than fucking on a horse,” she gasped, feeling the heat in her loins intensify. She could never get enough of his hard cock. She couldn’t believe that everyone in the world fucked, especially married people. If she had her choice, she would never do anything else. But it was hard fucking on the back of a horse. Next time they would camp first.
Dede suddenly disregarded the movements of the horse. She began sliding on and off his cock in a fury of movement. He leaned against her and held her tightly, while she did all the work. In a moment she began gasping and stiffened in his arms. He rocked on her spasming pussy for a moment and began his own orgasm. After several minutes of wild activity, they rested in each other’s arms.

Dede suddenly realized that she was chilly. At night the harsh heat of the desert turned into intense cold. Her naked ass was not used to this.

“Shit, pull my horse up here so I can get dressed,” she said, shivering. The sweat on her body was drying in the gentle breeze. Her nipples were achingly hard in the cold air. He ran his hands over her pointed nipples and felt his cock twitch inside her. Her eyes opened in surprise. Three minutes later she found his flaccid cock rock hard again.

“Oh no,” Dede said, shivering. He laughed, leaned back and grabbed a blanket. He threw it around her as she began rocking against his cock once more. Her moans echoed off the rocks around them. As the light drained from the sky the footsteps of their horses receded into the night.

Martha Becket sat rocking in her porch swing. She had tried to plow the garden, again, and failed again. She needed to borrow a neighbor. She hadn’t plowed the garden in three years. Crops barely grew in it any more. The soil was too hard and dry to grow much.

If only she could bring back her husband, for just one day. She had so many questions. She had taken her husband for granted, while he was alive. He knew how to do almost anything. Safe in his security, she had learned almost nothing. If she had it to do again…

Her eyes widened. She searched the night, trying to track the sound of muffled hoofbeats. She lifted the shotgun and waited. She heard a corral bar, the neigh of the stallion, then muffled voices.
“I’ve got a shotgun,” she yelled nervously. The voices stilled, then footsteps approached.

“What kind?” the voice asked from the darkness.
“DEDE!”
“I’ve brought company, mama. I’ve got a man,” she declared proudly. They appeared out of the darkness and stepped into the shaft of lamplight coming from the kitchen. Martha threw herself into Dede’s arms, then kissed them both and pulled them inside. Excited voices talked long into the night. The old adobe house became a home once more.