Free Longarm and the Great Divide by Tabor Evans Page A

deep. He lifted her knees and draped them over his shoulders so her ass was high off the bed. He took hold of her tits and rammed full length into her. He could feel the head of his cock bump into something inside her. For a moment he worried that he might hurt her, but he had gone beyond being able to stop. He thrust deep, over and over and over again. He could feel his sap rising. Could feel the sweet gathering of pressure deep inside his balls.
    And then it exploded. His come spewed out into her, and he let out a loud grunt as the pleasure overwhelmed him.
    Liz came again at the same moment. She clutched him tight and drummed her heels against the small of his back in an attempt to pull him even deeper.
    Finally he went limp. He allowed Liz’s legs to fall away from his shoulders, and she lay exhausted on the bed. Longarm let his weight down onto her, and she hugged him close.
    They dropped off to sleep like that.

Chapter 31
    Longarm woke . . . he had no idea what the time might be, only knew it was late. And he was satiated after his tryst with Liz, happily satiated. He slipped out of bed without waking her, found his clothes, and got dressed in the dim light of her bedside lamp.
    Once he was fully dressed he leaned down and delivered a light kiss to Liz’s cheek, then blew out the lamp and felt his way through the dark house to the front door.
    He let himself out but did not immediately leave. Instead he sat in one of the rocking chairs on Liz’s porch and lighted a cheroot. He sat there for a little while enjoying the soft, evening air and the coolness of the night.
    He could hear the sounds of revelry from the two whorehouses, one here on the Nebraska side, the other from Stella’s on the Wyoming side of town.
    Town, he reflected. That right there was the problem. The people here persisted in thinking of this as being two separate towns when by all rights it was, or should be, a single community.
    And Custis Long was acting town marshal for both sides, enforcing the laws of Wyoming Territory and of the state of Nebraska. Worse, the divided community had no town laws of its own. None.
    It was a wonder, he thought, that the cowboys from nearby outfits hadn’t been riding roughshod over the whole shebang.
    He sat, rocking back and forth and thinking, until he finished his cigar. Then he flipped the butt into the darkness. It hit the ground in a cascade of flying sparks.
    Longarm stood, paused for another quiet moment to enjoy the night, then stepped down off Liz’s porch and walked across the wide street to Stella’s whorehouse and the comfort of his bed.

Chapter 32
    â€œGood morning, Marshal.”
    â€œGood morning, Otis.”
    â€œWhat can I do for you, Marshal?”
    â€œI just came t’ get my horse.”
    â€œLordy, you aren’t leaving us, are you?”
    â€œNo, Otis. Just taking a ride.”
    â€œOh. Right. Let me get that horse for you, marshal. You just set and relax. I’ll saddle him and fetch him to you.”
    â€œThat’s mighty nice o’ you, Otis.”
    â€œHappy to oblige, Marshal.”
    Ten minutes later Longarm was heading at an easy jog north of town. The day was a pleasant one with a few puffy clouds floating overhead and the sound of songbirds trilling in the brush he passed through.
    He was comfortable, a hot breakfast behind his belt and the sun warm on his face. The gray horse moved at an easy pace. It seemed a shame that all days could not be like this.
    He almost regretted arriving at his destination. It took only a scant few minutes to reach the water that was responsible for the presence of both Valmere and Stonecipher. Surprising, too.
    Longarm was expecting to see a pond. This was a small lake, covering probably eight or ten acres and rimmed with cattails. He had no idea how deep the water might be, but it was obvious there was plenty of it even if it turned out to be shallow water.
    He stepped down off the gray