Spouse Swap

Chapter 15

Eighteen minutes to the second after Trish Asher cut out for parts unknown in Bruce Cord's sports car, Gabe Penner staggered out of the cabin and took off in hot pursuit of her. Elke Lockridge followed him to the county highway through her binoculars. She watched and waited until he managed to thumb a ride toward Lone Pine before she stopped looking and said, "The chase is on, Joseph."

Dooley lowered his own binoculars and grinned. "We must be living right, cupcake. I thought sure Trish and Gabe would end up killing each other." "So did I."

Breath hissed out of Dooley in a long sigh. "Maybe it's better this way. Now they can tangle assholes in some strange city or town, and nobody will ever know why." He gave her a playful slap across the buttocks. "Let's get the hell out of here."

The slap excited Elke. She shook her head at him and said, "I'm not budging until you thank me for rescuing your ass from that root cellar, Joseph." She dropped her binoculars to the ground and twitched her hips at him. "I hate ungrateful men."

"Later, you masochist," Dooley laughed as he gave her another whack across the derriere. "You know I don't like to make it with you on the ground. Let me find a comfortable chair to sit in first, and then I'll show you enough gratitude to make this pretty rump of yours sting for a week."

Elke shook her head. "I'm not after a spanking, Joseph. I want you to screw me."

Dooley started to tell her that there wasn't time. Then he saw her agitated state and changed his mind. His eyes caressed her. His girl was in heat, probably from the scene that had just unfolded before them. She looked hot…and beautiful.

He reached out and tweaked the tip of her nearest breast. "All right, cupcake, you win."

"I usually do," Elke said as she proceeded to disrobe. "I suppose it has something to do with the way I'm built."

Dooley made no answer. He was too busy watching her. Elke was wearing a button-down-the-front dress this morning. The dress was the bright color of a canary flying in the sunlight. She reached up to her breasts and found the first button. He felt his cock start to harden as he watched her fingers crawl over the buttons like lazy worms, then said, "Stop trying to imitate Trish Asher, cupcake; it makes you look cheap."

"How's this, Joseph?"

"Better."

The dress gaped, and Elke pushed it down over her hips, all the way to the ground. She caught the material with the tip of her right shoe and kicked it away from her feet. She wasn't wearing a slip; just a half-bra and panties, and she looked so delicious that for a wild moment Dooley felt like dropping to his knees and putting his tongue to her twinkie, but he didn't.

Elke caressed the shimmering black bra that held her breasts captive, and he watched her nipples harden and stab at the cloth hammocks that covered them. He smacked his lips and said, "Those boobs of yours seem to get bigger every day, cupcake."

"The way you keep playing with them, it's a wonder they aren't down to my knees." She sighed. "Come here and give me a hand with my bra and panties, Joseph."

"Sure thing."

He walked up to her. He lifted his hands to the front of her crowded bra. Hot and silky and exciting. He started fondling her boobs.

Elke shivered beneath his touch and asked teasingly, "Are you just going to stand there and feel my titties through the cloth, or are you going to bare them and give yourself a- real thrill, Joseph? They're all yours."

He reached between her shoulder blades and found the snaps of her bra. He leaned toward her and banged his stiff cock against the crotch of her black nylon panties.

"My goodness," Elke purred as she dropped her hand between them and gave his sheathed penis a not too gentle hug with her fingers, "you are ready, aren't you?"

Shock thrills of delight shot through Dooley's groin and made him shiver in the sunlight. He smiled wickedly. "I'm ready, but only because you excited me."

Tenderness traced its pattern across Elke's face, but her voice remained teasing. "You mean my titties excite you, don't you?"

Dooley smacked his lips. "That's right, those big tits of yours turn me on. They're turning me on now. So much so that right now I'm tempted to slip my cock between them and splash a hot load of cum all over your nipples.''

Elke's eyes twinkled as she unsheathed his cock and said, "You wouldn't be getting a cherry. Go ahead and diddle my tits."

He shook his head. "I'd rather massage your pussy."

"I wish you'd do something."

Dooley grinned as he unhooked her bra and watched her big breasts dance into nakedness. He lifted his hands to those lovely twin mounds again. Elke permitted him to play with her dairies for a couple of minutes. Then she stopped hugging his cock with her hand and stepped back. Her breasts heaved, and a dreamy smile touched the corners of her sensuous mouth. Dooley could almost feel the heat coming from the crotch of her tight, black panties. His grin widened as she shook her slender hips at him and said, "Skin me down, Joseph. Take off my panties and then massage my pussy with that nice dong of yours."

Dooley sank to his knees and worked his hands upward along the inner paths of her alabaster thighs. Her skin was warm and silky to the touch. He felt the sweat pop out on his brow as he moved the heel of his right hand against the dampening webbing of her bikini panties. He grinned and thought, This is one creamy pussycat I've teamed up with for the rest of my life.

He moved his hand away from her vagina. His fingers climbed higher. He crooked his fingers and hooked them into the elastic waistband of her panties and slowly began to lower them. He watched her pussy hair come into view, arid once again he experienced the urge to push his tongue beyond the dewy slit and lap her quim. He made her all the way naked. Then he leaned toward the pubic jungle and kissed her jutting clitoris.

"No," Elke panted as she pushed his face away from her box and dropped down beside him. "I don't want my kitty cleaned with your tongue. I want you to fuck me." She stretched out on her back and spread her legs. "Do it now, Joseph."

He took himself in hand and started to crawl between her yawning legs. A pulse beat later he stiffened like a bird-dog on point, cursed softly and said, "I should have known I'd never be able to finish this sex trip. I ought to have my head examined for even starting it."

Elke sat up, blinked. "What's wrong?"

"The clock just ran out on us," Dooley replied. He pointed. "Look for yourself."

Elke's eyes followed the path of his stiff finger. Three people-one woman and two men -appeared in the valley below, and now they were cautiously picking their way toward the cabin. Stella Roller. Felix Wellman. And Bruce Cord. Elke took a deep breath that rocked her naked breasts and hissed at them, "Party poopers!"

"The party hasn't even started, and already you're bitching about the guests," Dooley said as he tugged her to a standing position and gave her another resounding whack across the fanny. "Get dressed while I go below and act like a host. You know what has to be done."

Elke nodded and started scrambling into her clothing.

Dooley crammed his wilted cock back inside his pants, scratched his scrotum, and started down the face of the mountain.

"Well?" Stella Roller queried as Dooley entered the cabin, leaving the door open behind him. "What's the good word, bluebird?"

"Yeah," Felix Wellman piped up. "Lay it on us, Joe. We find one broken bottle on the floor, but no blood. What happened here?

"Nothing much," Dooley said. "We predicted the wrong ending is all. They didn't kill each other.

Trish beat Gabe to the draw and scrammed with the sack." He grinned at Bruce Cord. "In your car."

Bruce shrugged. "I never did like that lemon."

Dooley couldn't resist it. "The car or the girl?"

Bruce gave him the stiff finger. "Fuck you, old buddy. I know you and Elke thought I got hung up on Trish Asher, but you were both wrong. She wasn't a bad piece of meat, but I like mine a bit more tender." He paused for a moment. "Speaking of tender meat, where's Elke?"

Dooley glanced out the dusty window. He saw his Jeep bounce into view and grimaced. "Here comes Suicide Susie now. We'd better get down on our knees and pray that she doesn't hit this shack."

Elke skidded to a stop in front of the cabin and jumped to the ground, breasts dancing. She lifted a cardboard box from the rear of the Jeep and came inside. She dropped the carton on the rickety table, moved her arms to gather them closer and hawked, "Step right up, lady and gentlemen; it's payday in Lonesome Valley! Don't be bashful! Come hither and get your hundred thousand slices of bread!"

A vision of Trish Asher walked to the forward part of Bruce Cord's brain as he watched Elke Lockridge open the cardboard box and expose the money they had backed her father into extorting from Mustang Airlines. They meaning Stella Roller, Felix Wellman and himself. He wished he could be on hand to see the girl's reaction when she opened the bag she had run off with… and found no money in it. He almost felt sorry for her. Poor

Trish. Yeah, poor. Screwed. Shafted. Had. Taken by Bruce Cowboy and Company.

Stella Roller saw the smile on Bruce's face and asked, "What's so funny, doll?"

"Trish Asher."

"Oh?"

"I was just wondering what kind of story she'll try to strap on Gabe Penner when he catches up with her pretty but double-crossing ass."

"About what happened to the money?" Stella smiled sourly. "That's her problem. It's a damn good thing she didn't knock Joe all the way out with that bottle last night, or we'd be the ones holding an empty sack."

"You aren't kidding," Dooley cut in. "As it was, Elke and I barely had time to make the switch before they showed up. One minute earlier and there might have been some shooting." He shivered. "I wouldn't like to go through another nightmare like that again."

"You won't," Bruce promised. "One hundred thousand dollars each should hold all of us for the rest of our lives. I only wish Hank could be on hand to enjoy it with us." His face clouded for a moment, then brightened. "Well, Elke's getting her slice of his pie, so all's well that ends well." He slipped an arm around Stella Roller's shoulder, found her right breast and gave it a firm squeeze. "Know something? All of a sudden I'm in the mood for a celebration, gang. What say we hightail it over to my hacienda and toast our good fortune?"

"Why work up a sweat by going there?" Dooley said. "I just happen to have a case of cold stuff out in my Jeep."

Bruce asked suspiciously, "What kind of cold stuff?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Stella said as she leaned into the hand cupping her right breast. She wrinkled her nose. "I hope to hell it isn't champagne."

Dooley winked at Bruce. "You've got to be kidding, Stell. Who ever heard of a bunch of dumb locals drinking anything except beer?"

Stella smacked her lips. "Yeah, how about that?"

Dooley started toward the door. Bruce's voice checked him. "By the way, Joe. What did you put in that sack Trish Asher took with her?"

Dooley winked again. "Green stuff, old buddy. Trish's favorite color. Nature's best. Something for her to remember us country bumpkins by… or wipe her ass with. Nice… wet… green leaves."

Laughter shook the lone window in the cabin.