Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Purple Les

The tall man stood by the dying campfire, staring at the figure in the bedroll. He saw the hat resting over the face of the sleeping person, and recognized it as belonging to The Tequila Kid.

Drawing his gun, he pulled the hammer back and silently drew closer until he was almost standing over the body in the bedroll.

He fired four shots into the center of the body, paused, then shot twice into the hat. Releasing his held breath, the man holstered his empty pistol. He took a flat pint bottle of whiskey from his jacket and, with a soft, satisfied chuckle, pulled the cork out — then he heard a rifle being cocked behind him.

He gave a startled jump, and his bottle hit the ground with a dull thunk, its contents spilling into the dirt.

Grinning mirthlessly, The Kid stepped into the dim light of the fire, her Winchester cocked and ready.

*****

The Kid had been lying low in the grass near the camp. She’d fixed up the bedroll to look like she was in it, then made a big campfire and hid herself.

She’d waited almost two hours. As the fire burnt itself low, The Kid watched the man creep into the camp. As soon as she saw his hat — a battered bowler with one eagle feather in it — she recognized the man as Charlie Redeye. She’d run into the half-breed Indian before, even tangled with him a time or two.

The Kid watched as Charlie emptied his gun into what he’d thought was her, wincing when she saw two more bullet holes appear in her hat. Damn his hide, she thought.

They called the man Charlie Redeye for a reason — and The Kid knew for certain that there’d be a bottle of rotgut whiskey in his hand as soon as he holstered that empty gun. She waited for him to tug the cork out, then cocked her rifle. The startled half-breed flinched almost violently, dropping his bottle.

She stood a few feet behind him. “You’re losin’ your touch, Charlie,” The Kid said. “Time was, you wouldn’t of fallen for a sorry-ass trick like that.”

“H-howdy, Kid.” Charlie said, trying to sound calm, but his voice shook like his hands. “I knew that weren’t you. No, I just come to warn you. Big trouble.”

“You got a right peculiar way of warnin’ someone.” the Kid said slowly.

“Aw, Kid.. y’got me all wrong,” Charlie Redeye protested. “I just figgered it would be a good laugh, shootin’ up your bedroll like that.”

“Who hired you to track me?”

“Track you? What’re you talkin’ about? I just came out this way.”

“But you just said that you came to warn me, Charlie. To warn me about somethin’ by putting six bullets in me, that is. Who hired you?”

Charlie sighed. “Where’s ‘at little girl, Kid?”

“What little girl?”

“While you was out there, you found a girl on the trail and brung her here.”

“Oh, that girl. She’s dead. How’d you know it was a girl, Charlie?”

The half-breed snorted disdainfully. “You carry dead kids ‘round the desert? C’mon, Kid.”

“She weren’t dead when I picked her up. She was when I got her here. You gonna stop pussyfootin’ around, Charlie, and say who the hell hired you to come after me?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” the half-breed insisted, glancing down at his spilled whiskey. “You made me drop my bottle, Kid. That wasn’t nice.” He shook his head sorrowfully.

The Kid spat on the ground. “Okay, I’ve had enough of this. Charlie, put your hands in your back pockets and lay face down.”

Charlie Redeye carefully did as the Kid ordered. The Kid came over and took his gun, knife, and a derringer hidden in his boot. Then she stood back and said, “Where’s your horse, Charlie?”

Charlie didn’t answer, only said, “Where’d you bury the girl? I don’t see no dug ground anywhere.”

“How come you’re so interested in a dead girl, Charlie?”

“She’s worth some money to me.”

The Kid sighed. She wasn’t getting anywhere, even though she was the one holding the rifle. “You’re wastin’ my time, Charlie. I reckon I’ll have you dig a pit. About three foot wide, five foot deep.”

Now Charlie’s eyes shone with fear. “I got no gun, Kid. You wouldn’t shoot a man down in cold blood like that. You always play fair, ain’t that right?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but The Kid could see that Charlie was shivering.

Drawing closer, she glanced down at the half-breed’s dropped bottle, now about two-thirds empty. “Goodness me, Charlie. Was that all the liquor you had?”

“Y-yeah. There’s still some of it left, huh? Can I have me a drink, Kid? Just one.” She could hear the need in Charlie’s voice. He probably sobered himself up to steady his hand before he shot at me. So he’s been a long while without, specially for him.

Reaching for an empty cup that rested near her bedroll, The Kid said, “Get up, Charlie. Sit by them rocks over there.” Wincing as he rose to his feet, Charlie did as he was told.

The Kid had put a generous pinch of a certain herbal mixture in the cup hours before. Now she took a rag and picked up the coffee pot by the fire, then filled the cup halfway.

Moving over to where Charlie’s bottle lay, the Kid picked it up and filled the mug to the brim with whiskey. She saw Charlie lick his lips.

She placed the cup on the ground near where Charlie sat, then backed up, keeping the rifle aimed at him.

“Drink up.” The Kid said. “You’re gonna need your strength. After you dig the pit, you’re gonna get in it and I’ll fill it in. Maybe with just your head sticking up, you might give me some answers.”

Charlie slowly reached out for the cup. “I won’t give you no answers, Kid.” He quickly gulped the contents, then made a face. “Shit, what kinda coffee is that?”

The Kid laughed. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“Huh?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just a joke.”

He stared longingly at the bottle. “Can I have another drink, Kid? One more, that’s all.”

The Kid laughed again, louder this time. “Believe me, you’ve had all you need, Charlie.”

“What?” The half-breed’s eyes were already becoming glassy, his cheeks flushed. He started to smile, even though there was nothing to smile about. Then he fell on his side laughing.

The Kid stood patiently, waiting for the herb to take hold. Finally, she asked, “Why you care so much about some girl in the desert, Charlie?”

“Man sent me to find you and her. Get big money when the job’s done.” Charlie didn’t intend to answer, but somehow he couldn’t help himself — or stifle his laughter.

“Who’s this man?”

“Don’t know his name. I ain’t telling you nothing else, Kid.” But Charlie couldn’t stop laughing, and the words continued to flow from his lips. “He’s a huge fella. Black curly hair. Big mustache. Flat nose. Has a voice like a boulder rollin’ down a hill.” Charlie’s mind told him to shut up, but his mouth wouldn’t quit. “I ain’t sayin’ no more, Kid,” Charlie paused, then burst into laughter again. “I don’t know who he works for,” he managed between giggles. “And that’s the truth. Never found out his name, either.”

“Where did you say your horse was, Charlie?”

Charlie Redeye laughed so hard he farted. Then he gasped, “She’s — she’s tied up just south of here.” Turning his head, he puked, then passed out.

Filling the empty cup with spring water, The Kid dashed it in Charlie’s face. He came to, spluttering.

Standing above him, her voice tight with anger, she asked, “Why do they care so much about the girl, damn you?”

He was dazed, slurring his words. “I dunno. But… but they have plenty money for me if she dead. No matter how I find girl, get… get big money for her dead.” Charlie lost consciousness again, and The Kid knew that he wouldn’t awaken for hours.

She quickly found the horse, led him back to the camp and let him drink his fill, then tied him by the sweet grass where he could eat. Taking the rope off the saddle, she tied up Charlie Redeye, loosely enough that he’d eventually manage to free himself. Spreading his bedroll out, she shoved him onto it, then dragged him over to the rocks, cursing all the while. He’d put on weight since they’d last met.

Now to go fetch Button, she told herself. As she passed by her bedroll, The Kid spied her hat. Pausing to pick it up, she shook her head sadly, fingering a couple of the bullet holes that perforated it. Hell’s bells, I spent five bucks for this hat. Look at it now.

Clapping it on her head with a shrug, The Kid ran down to Arabella, hoping the girl had managed to keep her nerve. “Button?” she called out as she drew close.

She gave silent thanks when the girl popped up from her hiding place and raced to meet her. Arabella had heard the shots and was frightened, but trusted The Kid’s words and stayed put.

When they met, Arabella squeezed The Kid tightly about the waist. The Kid hugged her back, giving the child a kiss on the forehead.

“It’s okay now, Button. Let’s go back to camp. We’ll have a bite and some coffee, then head on out of here.”

Arabella stared at the bound, unconscious man as they approached the fire. “I heard the shots, Kid. I was mighty scared, but I did like you said.”

The Kid reached out to playfully tousle the girl’s hair. “And I’m real proud of you for keeping the promise you made, Button. You helped me a lot.”

They ate a hasty breakfast, then made preparations to depart. While Arabella washed herself in the spring, The Kid went through Charlie Redeye’s saddle bags. She took apart his rifle and pistol and threw them in the water, along with his knife, but decided to keep the derringer. The Kid found three bottles of whiskey in the saddle bags and broke all but one on the rocks. She set that bottle near Charlie, then filled his canteen with water. She was tempted to help herself to some of his beef jerky, but finally decided to leave Charlie’s food untouched in his saddlebag.

Moments later, The Kid and Arabella broke camp. Untying the horse, The Kid set the girl on the front of the saddle, then mounted just behind her.

“What about that man?” Arabella asked, glancing over at Charlie.

“I reckon he’ll sleep about twelve hours, then spend another couple hours gettin’ untied. Don’t worry, Button, he’ll be fine.”

Arabella looked around, a puzzled expression on her face. “Where’s all them chickens we been eating?”

“I reckon they run off somewheres,” the Kid replied, smiling to herself as she got the horse walking.

As they rode downstream, the creek grew bigger and the grass got thicker. It was early in the morning, and The Kid figured they could travel for three, maybe four hours before it got too hot. She could handle it, but wasn’t sure about Arabella.

After awhile she noticed that sometimes Arabella would push herself up against the saddle horn, smile and then ease off. The Kid knew just what she was up to, and had to grin herself. As time passed, the shirt Arabella wore had ridden up to her thighs, giving The Kid a good look at the little girl’s bare legs. Gotta admit, I like what I see. She’s a sure ‘nough cutie, no doubt about it.

They dismounted around 10 AM by some shady trees, to eat and rest the horse. The Kid took some hardtack from her bag and shared it with Arabella. It was the last of their food, and there wasn’t much of it.

Taking a slug from the canteen, The Kid studied the girl. “Listen, Button. I want us to play a little game where we don’t use your real name for a spell. Okay?”

Arabella shrugged. “Okay. How come?”

“No good reason, I guess. Just humor me.”

“If you say so, Kid.” They fell silent, gnawing at the stale hardtack.

“Say, Button. You’re a pretty smart girl, ain’t ya?” The Kid asked as she swallowed her last bite.

Arabella brushed crumbs from the front of the oversized shirt. “Well, I can read and write, and cypher some. Why?”

Reaching into her saddlebag, The Kid withdrew all the papers that she’d gathered from the dead men in the badlands. She handed them to Arabella. “I never learned to read. Could you tell me what these say?”

The Kid listened carefully as Arabella read through the papers aloud. Some of the words were too difficult for her, and the handwriting on a few pages was mostly illegible, but the girl did her best, gamely making her way through the lot. The Kid put aside any papers that seemed like they’d be of use in court, but held onto the rest just in case.

As they cleaned up and got ready to leave Arabella said, “Um, I got to tell you something bad I done, Kid.”

“What would that be, Button?” The Kid asked, genuinely puzzled.

The ten-year-old blushed and stared at the ground, but forced herself to continue. “Back when we was at the rocks, I watched while you diddled yourself. You thought I was asleep, but I just pretended. I’m sorry, Kid. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it.”

The Kid smiled. She liked the word the girl used. Diddled. It sent a warmness between her legs, thinking of the little girl watching as she touched herself. She said, “Well, I guess I don’t mind none, though if I’d knowed you was awake, I would of waited till later.” She paused, studying the child’s embarrassed face. “Did it bother you, seein’ me do that?”

“Gosh, no! You’re beautiful, Kid.” Arabella shyly replied. “I didn’t know there was anyone who diddled, ‘cept for me and my sister. She showed me how, and we liked doin’ it together.” Realizing what she said, Arabella blushed again. “Um… I hope you don’t think I’m bad cause of that.”

“Not a bit.” The Kid answered.

They mounted the horse and set off again. After a few hours, the trail grew smooth and clear, so the Kid got the horse up to a trot for a spell. Then she slowed him down to a walk, furrowing her brow as she sniffed at the air. “Think I smell a wood-burnin’ stove, Button. That means there’s a farm or a ranch up ahead.”

“There is?” replied Arabella who, much as she loved The Kid’s company, was growing weary of being on horseback. “Are we gonna go there?”

“We’ll pay ‘em a visit, at least… if they’ve got a barn, maybe they’ll let us bunk down in it for the night.” She coaxed the horse into a gallop.

Moments later, they came to a small cabin, which did have a barn close by. The Kid dismounted and walked the horse toward the cabin while Arabella remained in the saddle.

A woman emerged from the barn, a shotgun cradled under her arm. The Kid stopped and the horse made a snorting noise. Arabella sat silently.

The woman gave them a hard stare. The Kid said, “Howdy.”

The woman hadn’t raised the shotgun yet. She said, “Howdy. You folks is a ways off the trail.” The Kid hadn’t bothered wearing her guns, since she had no ammo left for them.

The older woman stared at a young woman dressed like a man in Levi denim pants, cowboy boots, a grey and white checkered shirt, green corduroy vest, and a battered hat filled with holes. She also took note of the bright blue eyes, rusty red hair in braids and tattoos on the woman’s chin. It made her think of some stories she’d heard.

Then she looked closer at the child on the horse, an ordinary cute-looking little girl who seemed to be wearing nothing except a man’s shirt.

“Ma’am,” the Kid started, “We both of us ran into a peck of trouble back in the badlands. Me and the girl been riding together since.”

“Go on,” the woman said, taking a few steps closer to the strangers to get a better look and save her voice. “What you want here?”

“Well, ma’am. We was hopin’ maybe you’d let us bed down for the night in your barn. It smells like rain tonight. If you’d be so kind, we’d leave in the mornin’ first thing, ‘specially if you could direct us to the nearest town.”

The woman looked at them and considered the request. “Well, I reckon that would be all right. I don’t get much company up here. Why don’t I show you where to bed your horse, then we can have us some coffee and get acquainted.”

“We thank you right kindly, ma’am.” the Kid said as she helped Arabella off the horse. The child’s shirt rode up as she climbed down, and The Kid saw a prickle of interest in the woman’s eyes as she got a brief glimpse of Arabella’s bare bottom.

“Listen,” the woman said, “My name ain’t ‘ma’am’, it’s Annie. Annie Bloom.”

Extending her hand, The Kid and said, “Pleased to meet you, Annie. This pretty li’l flower don’t know her real name. So I call her Button.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Bloom.” Arabella said, shaking Annie’s hand. “We’re much obliged to you for your kindness.”

Annie Bloom smiled and said, “It’s Miss Bloom, and you’re welcome, Button.”

The Kid thought for a moment, looking at Annie. The woman was maybe in her thirties. She wore a skirt that went down to her boots and a plain white blouse — clothes made for farm work. Her dark brown hair was pulled back, tied with a faded blue ribbon. Her face was tanned and weather-beaten, but twinkling blue eyes showed a kindness hidden under the woman’s gruff exterior. Her hands were small but looked strong, and she seemed to have a husky figure, but it was hard to tell through her clothes.

Now Annie Bloom was looking in her direction. “Well now, stranger, what’s your name?”

The Kid took off her hat and held it to her chest. “Folks round these parts know me as The Tequila Kid.”

She knew from experience that this name would either bring trouble right off or be admired, and waited to see which. She was relieved when Annie grinned and said, “I had me a feelin’ you might be her. Well, this is gonna be a right fine time. I’m lookin’ forward to hearin’ some good stories tonight!”

Annie led them to the barn, so The Kid could get the horse settled in, then back to her cabin, where she put on the coffee pot. Turning to her guests, she rubbed her hands together briskly. “Well, it’s still a mite early… but what would you folks say to some supper?”

“Much obliged, Annie,” The Kid replied with a nod. “Right now, I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”

“Yes, please!” Arabella cried. “Thank you, Miss Bloom.”

The woman gestured toward a rough-hewn oak table with a bench and one chair. “Sit yourselves down.”

There was a wooden pie safe up against the northern wall of the cabin. Annie opened it, reached inside and emerged with an iron skillet, a golden crust circling the inside. “Made cornbread yesterday, and–” she took out a large tin pan filled with slabs of meat “–I got some dried venison. Cured it myself.”

“Looks mighty good,” The Kid said. “I’m ‘bout hungry enough to eat the table.”

Annie got some plates from a cupboard and passed them around, then took a long steel knife and cut generous slices of the cornbread, handing one to Arabella and one to The Kid, putting a third on her own plate.

Seating herself, she grinned at her guests. “Good bread, good meat — good gracious, let’s eat!” With that, they tucked in, and all conversation ceased for the moment.

The Kid had been right about the approaching rain. The sky grew dark, the wind began to howl and fat raindrops beat against the roof and windows. Inside the cabin, however, all was cozy, warmed by a pot-bellied stove that Annie occasionally fed with chunks of wood.

As they relaxed after their meal, Annie reached into the cupboard and brought out an earthenware jug. “Care for a taste?” she said.

“I wouldn’t say no,” The Kid replied with a smile.

“What is it?” asked Arabella, curious as always.

“Not for youngsters,” Annie said.

“Oh, that,” the girl said, making a face. “I had a sip of that stuff once before. It’s bad.”

Pulling the cork, Annie handed the jug to The Kid. “Let’s see what you think.”

The Kid took a pull — then her eyes went wide, and she exhaled noisily. “Mercy me!” she exclaimed, passing it back to the hostess. “That’s mighty strong.”

“Corn liquor, mostly,” the woman said, then took a generous swig. “This old boy I know cooks it. Got him a still down the road a piece. He puts somethin’ else ‘sides corn in it, but won’t tell no one what. Go on, have you another taste.”

They passed the jug back and forth once more each, then The Kid said, “That’s enough for me, Annie. Long ride tomorrow, I reckon.”

Just then, Arabella yawned deeply, and The Kid laughed. “My, my. I see a little girl who needs her some shut-eye. Whyn’t you lay down, Button? I’ll spread the bedroll out for you.”

Arabella made a face. “Don’t wanna be sleepy,” she pouted. “I wanna stay up and hear you tell stories, Kid.” But she yawned again. “Oh… hellfire!”

“We gotta rest up, Button,” The Kid said, already on her feet and preparing the bedroll. “Have to be back on the horse and on the trail first thing tomorrow. I’ll tell you stories while we ride, how ‘bout that?”

“Okay, I guess,” the drowsy little girl mumbled as she laid herself down. “I can still listen to you now, can’t I?”

“Course you can,” The Kid said, seating herself back at the table, winking at Annie. “Let’s see. I reckon the most exciting thing I ever done as a Ranger was when I rode in a posse that was chasin’ after Beefsteak Kelly and his gang.”

Annie nodded eagerly. “I heard tell of him.”

“Kelly was a handful and then some, sure ‘nough,” The Kid continued. “He was this wild Irishman who come out west when Boston got too hot for him and his boys…”

The Kid’s tale had Annie sitting on the edge of her chair, sometimes laughing and beating her hand on the table, or wide-eyed in awe.

As for Arabella, the rain, the warmth from the stove and the women’s voices soon lulled her into slumber. Within minutes, she was dead to the world.

Glancing over at the sleeping child, Annie shook her head. “Poor little mite… she’s been through a lot, ain’t she?” She stood, went over to her bed and took the top blanket away, then covered the little girl with it. Seating herself across from The Kid, she gazed evenly at the younger woman. “Tell me, how’d you come to be ridin’ in the middle of nowhere with a little girl who’s got nothin’ on but a man’s shirt? She ain’t no kin of yours, I can see that much.”

The Kid told Annie most of their story, but kept the details vague. It wouldn’t do to share information that might bring bad trouble down on this kindly woman. She did talk about what had happened to Button’s family… and Annie had to know, just as The Kid knew, that this child’s folks probably hadn’t been killed by real Indians, but white men in disguise.

When The Kid had finished talking, Annie sat motionless for awhile, then looked over at the dozing girl, sadly shaking her head. “Awful young to know such sorrow.” She turned back to The Kid. “Take good care of her, will you?”

“Like she was my own,” The Kid replied, determination in her voice.

“I believe you will,” Annie said, then stood, picking up the oil lamp from the table. “Well, I reckon it’s time to hit the hay.” She gazed at The Kid, a hint of shyness in her smile. “I wouldn’t think of lettin’ you stay out in that drafty barn tonight. And you’d only wake the child if you climb in the bedroll with her. Why don’t you bunk down with me?”

The Kid eyed Annie up and down and said, “Sure, why not.”

There was a chipped porcelain ewer on a small table next to the bed, with a large bowl beside it. Annie poured clean water into the bowl, then stripped completely naked and washed herself with a worn flannel — first her face, then under the arms and between her legs.

The Kid watched her every step of the way. Annie had a pleasing body, with breasts a little smaller than she thought they’d be, but they were still nice. The rest of her figure was wiry, but firm.

Annie turned to The Kid, gesturing toward the bowl. “Care to wash up?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied, unbuttoning her shirt. Undressing completely, The Kid cleaned herself as Annie had done, washing off the sweat of the trail as best she could.

Annie looked the young woman up and down as she bathed, thinking that she’d never seen a lovelier body.

“Much obliged for that,” The Kid said, draping the flannel over the edge of the bowl. “Should I dump this water out back?”

You can leave it there,” Annie replied. She picked up her nightgown. “I most often sleep in the raw, but since I got company, I can put this on.”

The Kid shook her head. “Don’t think of me as company. I like sleepin’ raw too.” She took the nightgown from Annie’s hand and threw it aside. Drawing close, she gave the older woman a soft kiss on the mouth, then patted the bed, whispering, “Sit down, Annie.”

Annie silently obeyed, staring up at The Kid, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“Now, how can I thank you for your hospitality, Miss Bloom?” the Kid asked. “Maybe like this, for starters.”

She got down on her knees and spread Annie’s legs apart, bending down to nuzzle the woman’s inner thighs, her kisses traveling higher and higher until her lips were brushing Annie’s wet labia. Extending her tongue, The Kid gently traced the opening of her new lover’s slit.

Sighing blissfully, Annie placed her hands on the back of the Kid’s head. “Tarnation, Kid. You can do that to me forever.”

 

Now available!  The next thrilling installment — namely, Chapter Four!