That was another case of arrogance getting in the way of good sense. You didn’t have to be very intelligent to shoot well enough to put a bullet int... somebody’s back, so I might well be headed for trouble. I did follow the advice of Marshal Brady and keep my shotgun handy at all times. It did get heavy, but it was a comfort to have it across my back whenever I was walking around. It was hanging from my saddle horn at all other times.The next day was a prime example of the kind of thing I was. “Ria, I am going tomorrow.”, I heard it from a shadow on the floor from the door step.– I know.– Why did not you take the dinner?– Will that hamper you from going?– Yes, as I can’t leave a place where someone would starve for me.– I am not starving for you, I am just not in the mood of eating.– I made it for you only.– What?– The pudding with.. with….my milk(very low pitched voice with shy)I got up and sat, stretched my hand to her. She gave me the pudding. I don’t know why, but it really smelt. "Aren't you going to light my fire?" I asked seductively."Certainly," he replied lighting my cigarette, "I was just looking over your kindling." I'm Michele," I offered my hand and he kissed it like a gentleman.I actually prefer it when men kiss it like it was a ladies hand."I'm William Fellatrix; have we met before? Maybe in church?" he inquired."I don't go to church; kneeling wrinkles my nylons," I replied.The waitress bought over two drinks and placed them on the table. Mr Fellatrix paid for. "Tom, can I be very honest with you?" Samantha asked as Tom noticed how hot she looked. She'd worn a rather short skirt and one of those totally hot breast-emphasizing sweaters that he loved on her. The sweater was almost red in color and the skirt was a dark navy blue and Tom loved how great Sam's ass looked when she'd turned that morning and let him see her backside. The sweater was a vee-neck and Tom loved the hot cleavage of Sam's ample tits that it gave him. He had grown very jealous of.