DIME NOVEL FAME
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
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I had just concluded that I was all alone in the print shop and was wondering what to do when two men came in through the open front door. "Is this the Derringer Press Shop?" one of them asked me.
"Yes it is." I said. "But I...."
"And is this the place that printed up that dime novel that told all those lies about Sidewinder Jack last month?" This was the Derringer Press Shop's claim to fame, its regular publications of the dime adventure novels about outlaws and the Wild West. It was located out West to draw the local wannabe heroes and erstwhile storytellers to it, get them to tell their tales, which were then embellished, more than a little exaggerated, and printed up on cheap paper stock to be shipped back East and there sold at a dime apiece, hence its name, the "dime novel."
"Uh, yes, it is." I said again. "But I really...."
"Well, we came here to get you to print one of them there dime novels about us." the other one put in.
"But I'm not...."
"Oh, don't worry." the first one said. They looked to be brothers, both of them in their mid-thirties, with reddish hair and green eyes and the same shaped nose and cheeks. "We got lots of stuff we done that you can write about. And it's all true, too."
"Most of it, anyways." the other said with a grin. "But we read a bit of that Sidewinder Jack book of yours, and you don't seem to need a whole of truth in your dime novels, anyhow."
"I'm not the one...."
"Now, don't get huffy." the first one said. "Maybe you done heard of us. He indicated first himself, then his brother, "Jeff and John Stebbins. We robbed that bank over by Calvin's Gulch last month."
"And before that, we was the ones who got that silver shipment over by Jefferstown." John put in.
"You should have seen the posse they put on our trail that time." Jeff said with a wide smile. "But we outdone them. You got yourself half the novel right there."
"But I really don't think...."
"Don't think what?" John said with a mean glint in his eye. "You think we ain't good enough for one of them yellow books of yours?"
"It's not that at all." I said.
"He wants to know about more than us robbing banks and stuff." Jeff said. "Got to be a rough-riding hero, too."
"Jeff and I both can rope and ride and shoot and dance with the best of them." John said.
"We'll tell you all about that stuff, too."
I gave up trying to talk to these guys. Better to play along with them. "What else have you got that we could put in our novel about you, if we was to write one about you?" I queried.
"What else do you need?" Jeff asked.
"Well." I said, looking at these two men. "A hero in our novels has to be both a lover and a fighter." I looked at both of them in turn. "You both seem powerful capable as fighters." I said. "But how are you in the other department?"
"We ain't had no complaints about the women we been with." Jeff said cautiously. I noticed John also acting abashed and I grinned.
"So you two ain't never been with a woman, have you?"
"Hell, you grow up out on the range and see what you got to work with!" John exploded. "We got the branding irons all right, but ain't got no heifers to brand them with."
"It sure is a pitiful thing, how few women there are abouts." Jeff condoled with his brother. "You and me been working up our bindles to go try a spell East and see if we can get to some of them ladies."
"Well." I said with some relief, "If you two are a couple of nothings in the love rodeo, then I don't see how Derringer Press is going to want to talk with you no matter if you were to lasso a twister and ride it like Pecos Bill, so if you don't mind, I need to...."
John drew his pistol with an ominous gesture. "You don't need to kill a man to know how to do it." he said. "The same goes with the pushing in bed."
"You got that right." Jeff agreed.
I looked down the barrel of John's gun and I gulped, licked my lips "Now, hold on now, fellers." I said. "I wasn't trying to do nothing but learn your qualifications." I licked my lips again.
"That pretty little pink tongue of his looks just like the tits on that woman they got painted on the wall over at the saloon." Jeff said.
"Always wondered what that would feel like if I was to rub it." John agreed. "Sitting there with a beer in hand, looking at that naked lady, with those big round tits."
I licked my lips again, this time my mouth open and my tongue running all the way around and Jeff saw that and sort of groaned. "Damned but them rosy lips of his look like they're good for something other than just talking."
"Jest like that lady's lips, ain't they?" John observed.
"Wonder how they'd feel if I was to kiss them?" Jeff said.
"I wasn't trying to do nothing but..."
John's gun safety clicked off and the hammer raised back and I quit arguing. That was the first thing you learned in the West, was to shut your pie-hole and wait until they got bored with you and went somewhere else.
"My brother said he'd like to kiss you." John said. "I think you ought to let him, don't you?"
I gulped and managed a sort of nod. Quiet, that was my key. Sooner or later, someone from the office would come back from lunch and find us and run fetch the sheriff. Until then, I just had to sort of wait it out.
Jeff took me in his arms and he was awkward about it, not that I was resisting him, but he didn't really know how to do it. But he jammed his lips up against mine, and I sort of held still and let him mouth me with them. He let me go and stepped back a step, wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. "That was about as much fun as kissing a wet fish." he opined.
"You been kissing the fish we catch over in Snake River?" John chuckled.
"Nope, but I reckon it'd be about the same. Maybe we ought to plug this one, teach him a lesson about being a lousy kisser."
"Guh!" I said before I could squelch it. Talking was always a mistake, I'd been taught. Just keep quiet and let them talk themselves out. It worked fine on a single man...but this was a pair of brothers, they had each other to talk to.
"Maybe you ought to give the feller one more chance." John said. "Now he knows how important it is to kiss you back, I mean."
"You reckon?" Jeff said.
I nodded vigorously. When he reached for me again I helped him hold me right and I matched my lips with his best I could. I wasn't any would-be Romeo myself (the girl shortage in this territory was extraordinarily acute, there were six I knew of, all of them were unattainable for one reason or another), but I gave Jeff Stebbins the best kiss I could under the circumstances.
"Now that one was a lot better." Jeff said when he let me go. This time I was the one wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "I think we ought to show this young feller what else we got for the lover part of the novel. You ever got a look at the cock of one of the Stebbins' men afore?" he asked me.
I shook my head nervously.
"Well, we're going to give you a good look at mine." Jeff said and he unbuttoned his fly.
"Get down on yore knees, feller." John said to me with a gesture from his pistol.
I obeyed and Jeff presented his hard prick to me.
Despite myself, I said, "Whoa! That's a big one, all right."
"You think we'd have any trouble making a lady happy with this if we was to get hold of one?" Jeff asked me.
I found within me a boldness that came from who-knows-where. Once I saw that cock, I had to have it, and I knew just how to get it. From there, my fear vanished. "We'd have to find out." I said. "But I think I know how we can do that."
"How's that?" Jeff wanted to know. And I leaned forwarded and scarfed him down. Jeff gave a startled gasp and there was another one from his brother, but I had a mouthful of Jeff Stebbin's cock and that was all I cared about right then.
"Looks like he saw your bet and raised you." John observed wryly. "You gonna call or not?"
I drew my lips back down his shaft, holding on tight, and then I released him just long enough for the folds of skin to fall back, then I went down on him again.
"Ahhh, ahhh, ah, hell!" Jeff groaned. "I reckon I'm going to raise him back about nine or ten inches! Guh!" He grabbed my head and hunched at my face a few times. "Yep, raise him back a couple hundred times ought to 'bout do it!"
I gagged a couple times before he let me go, then I began to suck him again myself, and this outlaw was grunting as I drove his cock in and out of my mouth.
"Yeah, we got us a cocksucking hellcat here, gaw damn!" Jeff panted as he began to hunch at my mouth again, this time without hanging onto my head. I used the rest that gave me to undo my own pants and push them down my hips, grabbed my own pud and began to pump on it.
Jeff's grunts took on a fever pitch and I wasn't surprised when he jammed his cock hard down my throat far as he could get it, and held my head there while he shot his wad so deep in my throat, I couldn't even taste or feel it. Only Jeff's fervid and ecstatic moans told me he was jetting his wads into my gullet. Jeff let go of me, panting and staggered back and that was when he saw my pants down and my cock out. "What the hell's he doing that for?" he asked.
"Maybe he wants you to return the favor?" John suggested.
"Hell with that." Jeff grunted. "You can suck him when he's done with me, maybe."
"But maybe he won't put you in one of his dime novels if you do that." John said.
I grunted an affirmative and gave him a grin.
"Hell you say." Jeff said, his mouth agape. "You telling me that I got to give him the old mouth-dance just to get my name in that there dime store novel? Why can't you do it?"
"I'm keeping the gun on him." You could tell John was enjoying Jeff's discomfiture, and I didn't disabuse him. All I'd intended to do was work myself while servicing these two wild stallions, but if one of them wanted to pay me back, I'd take it.
"How you going to keep the gun on him while he sucks you?" Jeff wanted to know.
"I'll manage." John said. And he waggled his cock at me and I opened my mouth and he waddled over a step and stuffed it inside me. John gave a low moan as I sucked him down, my mouth now quite limber after sucking off Jeff and he just gently crooned as I moved up and down his hard, long shaft. I think he had a bit more length and girth than his brother, even, but he also had more patience, and I was able to ply my best skill such as it was upon his cock without hindrance from him.
"Better get to work on him." John said after a time. "That dick of his isn't going to go away. Maybe he'll do a novel about just me, write you out of it entirely."
"Hell." Jeff grunted, and for a time, I thought that was all of it, I had even begun to pump myself again in expectation of it being all I was going to get out of this.
But then Jeff's head appeared between his brother's legs and I watched him best I could as he caught my cock in one hand, gave a sort of desperate, forlorn sigh, and gingerly took it into his mouth.
Soft and warm and gentle as a sheepskin rug, Jeff's mouth enveloped me, and when he caught hold and pulled back, I gurgled in the sheer, raw pleasure of it.
Jeff seemed to take courage when he discovered that a cock isn't such a nasty-tasting thing at all. I'm not sure what he expected, but I kept myself very clean and it wasn't long before he was moving with more speed and dexterity than I'd even hoped for.
"Yeah, little brother, suck this feller's dick for him." John grunted. "We'll get ourselves a big write-up in that dime novel, all right, the Stebbins brothers, fighters, outlaws, heros, and lovers. We'll have it all and when we head East, they'll be lined up to get a chance to talk to us. Our fortunes will be made, no doubt about it."
That sort of talk spurred Jeff to greater effort and his pleasureful manipulation of my dong drove me to faster attention to John's prod in return. I felt my own climax growing steadily and I spurred myself to harder efforts on John, if he didn't come before I did, I didn't know if I'd have the strength to manage him afterwards. It seemed like every erg of my energy was turned to this time, and afterwards, I'd be a limp dishrag of a man, unable to move a finger. But now, while passion danced in my head and my delight was coursing through my body, I was able to ignore every ache and pain my body could produce and I was groaning, I was growing, I was groping for my orgasm, I was close, I was close....I was there!
"Mmmmh! Mmmmh! Mm-mm-mm-mmuh-MUHHHH!" was all I said around John's prick as I hit my climax and squirted my spunk right into Jeff's mouth. Jeff sputtered in surprise and disgust as I sprayed his mouth full of my jizz, and then he pulled away and grunted in shock as my wildly flying squibs of sperm splatted him in the face, dousing his fringe of red beard and then he was gone and I spent my last drops on the wooden floor.
Done, I was as weak as I feared, but John seemed tolerant and I plied him as best I could, and after a time, almost sedately, he sighed, "That does it, boy, now I'm done." and when he said that, his cock released a slow flow of his salty seed and I milked it out of him rather than had it fly out of him and I wondered if the two were related, his relaxed attitude to sex and his almost sluggish flow. But he seemed satisfied when I had finished milking him dry and no trace of ingratitude marred his features.
"Now, then!" Jeff said when I got groggily to my feet and pulled up my pants. "You are going to give us a good write-up, aren't you? Make a whole little book about us, won't you?"
I struggled for words that wouldn't be a lie. "As much as I am able, I'll get you two into the very next book I write for Derringer Press." What I left out was that I had never written a single word for the dime novel trade!
"Good enough." John said as the two made ready to leave. "We're heading East, but we'll watch for your story and see what you have to say about us. Hope you got inspired enough today to say a lot of really good stuff about us."
I stood quietly until they were well gone, then got ready to leave myself. Then someone else came in the door.
"Ah, good day, Mr. Pertwee." I said to the man who entered.
"Thomas, excellent." Mr. Pertwee said as he sat down at his desk. "I'll be with you in a moment." He wrote rapidly and then handed me the paper. "See this goes out at once."
"I certainly will." I said and took off for the telegraph office.
Which is where I worked. I'd never said I worked for Derringer Press, after all; the Stebbins brothers just assumed it. I had just gone by as usual at one o'clock in the afternoon to pick up any telegrams that Mr. Pertwee wanted to send out that day.
I wondered how long the Stebbins brothers would wait to see their names in print, and if they'd ever figure out just why their efforts at dime novel fame had failed miserably.
THE END
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