The first time I fucked Tallulah, she straddled my hips and humped me halfway through the mattress.

 "Slow down," I yelled. 

All yelling got me was a slap across the face. Next thing, she used the heel of her hand to push my face sideways on the bed.

"Come on, Alfie,” she snarled. "Fuck me, Texas style. Do it, you sonofabitch!”

She started waving an arm over her head like she was riding a rodeo bull, so I tore the front of her slip open. Her tits tumbled out, and she started mashing them into my face. The more she mashed, the more her nipples swelled. Pretty soon, they were jutting out like a couple of springy pink lipsticks. I was trying to catch them in my mouth, but it was like bobbing for apples at the county fair—only they were sweeter than apples.

She grabbed a pistol off the bedstand and stuck the barrel up under my chin.

“Suck them right, goddammit. I want to feel pretty! Bang! You’re dead.”

***

We’d knocked off a bank the week before and had been laying low in a Colorado hotel, but Tallulah and I knew it wouldn’t be long before the law came sniffing around.

***

I finally caught one of her nipples in my mouth and started sucking. The tit-sucking caused her to pump her ass and pant in my ear.

“I feel right, pretty Alfie—say something in French.”

That’s when she sat up straight, stuck the pistol barrel to her head, and said, “Bang, bang, now we're both dead.”

“Now you’re gonna get it, doggy,” I said, turning her over and pulling up her hips.

“Grr… ruff!” she yelped, arching her back and sticking her ass up.

“Open me up like a can of beans,” she squealed.

It was love.

***

The following morning, we headed for Arkansas in a 1934 Ford that was best in her class; she had a flat-head V8 purring steady under the hood and all the horsepower a man could ask for.

Tallulah had no problem getting her feet up on the dash because of her petiteness, and she had her skirt pulled down to her hips and was wobbling her knees back and forth and the window down to let the honeysuckle breeze swirl between her legs. Her eyes were getting a dreamy look.

I said, “Why don’t you pull those panties aside?”

“Pull them aside for me yourself, Alfie.”

I reached to do it, but she slapped my hand, pointing to a filling station on four corners with nothing but farmland in every direction.

“Let’s get soda pops and gas,” she said, suddenly taking her legs off the dash and arranging her skirt.

I pulled in, and a pump jockey ambled out of the garage. He wiped his neck with a rag, pushed his hat back, and blew a slow whistle. I figured him for a simpleton.

"Hoo-wee, mister, she's a fine-lookin' vehicle," he said. "How fast will she go?"

"Faster than a cop car," I said. "But it ain't speed that counts so much as how you handle a machine like this. What's your name, kid?"

He looked at me with an expression of adoration, and I figured he might be useful.

"Jim," he said.

"How much do they pay you, Jim?"

"Pay me for what?"

"Look, Jim," I said, "don't get reckless and don't give me fast answers.”

“Any place around here a lady can care for her business?” Tallulah interrupted.

“There sure is, ma’am; we got an amenity round the back.”

“Sounds like an outhouse. Is that the kind of amenity you’re talkin’ about?”

“Why, yes, ma’am,” Jim answered, pulling off his hat and coloring as Tallulah opened the car door.

“I suppose if I must,” she said, wrinkling her nose and heading back.

I got out of the Ford and walked up to Jim. “You didn’t answer my question, kid. I’ll ask you again. How much do they pay you for wasting your life in this shithole?"

He stuffed the rag in the front pocket of his coveralls. "Twenty cents an hour.”

 I pulled the rag out and smacked the dust off my shoes. "You ain’t got a pot to piss in.”

"Sure, I do, mister; I mean, sure, I have."

"You do, or you have?"

I pulled my jacket open so he could know I was packing. "You know what this is, don't you, Jim?"

"I reckon it's a Colt .45."

“Maybe you ain't so dumb after all. Fill the tank, kid. You got a cash box inside?"

"Yes, sir."

Who else is in there?"

"Nobody."

"You like pussy, don't you, Jim?"

"Course I do, Mr… I"

"You just had none, is all. Right!”

Jim hung his head. "Naw, I guess I ain't."

"Well, hell, Jim, let's go get you some."

I pulled the Colt from my shoulder holster and pointed it at a fence post and squeezed off a round.

"There’s just one thing first, Jim, and that's you bringing out that cash box. Make it easy; I don't want to hurt you."

Jim stood up to his full height, which was two inches over me, and said, "I guess you gotta dare me, Mr."

I poked him in the shoulder with the barrel of my Colt and said, "I double dare you."

Fate had it all worked out that Jim would be the newest member of my gang and the first to get himself killed because he wasn't fast on the trigger. I suppose part of the blame was on me. I could have shown him what to watch out for better, but I didn't have time for it. Jim was in the right place at the wrong time, and that was it. I didn't figure him for a dead man, not with his babyface, curly blond hair, and simple ways. I'd planned on robbing the first easy mark in my path, nothing more, so I guess it was providence that Jim was eager to show his guts and easy to order around.

Meanwhile, Tallulah was coming back around the station, sniffing her fingertips.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any water around here, would you? I should probably freshen up.”

She held her fingers under Jim’s nose. “Sniff,” she said.

“What is that, Jim?” I asked, laughing.

“Yes, what is that?” repeated Tallulah.

Jim’s nose lingered on Tallulah’s finger.

“That’s pussy, ain’t it, Jim? I guess I’m a dirty girl, but there’s something about a filthy outhouse that gets my blood racing.”

“You been finger fucking yourself again, Tallulah?” I asked.

“I guess I have, but I didn’t have nobody around to watch me.”

I said, “Let’s all go back and watch you finish up then.”

“You’d do that?” gushed Tallulah.

“Will we, Jim?” I asked, tapping the butt of my gun.

“Yes, sir,” stuttered Jim.

We all walked back. Tallulah yanked the outhouse door open and told Jim to hold it open. She stepped inside and hiked her skirt up.

“I guess I ain’t wearing no panties, she said. “Hey Alfie, go ahead and stick your nose in here.”

I did like Tallulah told me, then backed up quickly.

“Don’t it stink in here?” Tallulah said.

I said, “It sure does, Sugar Tits. My eyes are burning something terrible.”

“And look at that toilet seat. I believe somebody got pee on it.”

Tallulah hiked up her skirt, sat on the seat, and spread her legs while leaning back against the barnwood wall.

“Yeah, it’s sticky alright. Jim, crawl over here and set your chin right where my pubes tickle your nose.”

She started massaging her twat.

Jim did as he was told, and Tallulah said, “I grew up on a cotton farm, Jim. Used to bring my lamp to the outhouse late at night when the rest of the house was sleeping. But two or three of those field hands were never sleeping, and they’d see the glow inside and come to eat my pussy, and they’d lick and lick, and those boys could never get enough of it, and I’d let em’ keep at it for half the night if they wanted.”

Meanwhile, a horn was blasting from out front. I told Jim I’d take care of it, and I went up and told an old man the station was closed and come back in an hour.

When I returned, Jim was still on all fours with his face in Tallulah’s business. His face looked like a glazed pastry when he finally came up for air.

***

We grabbed the cash box and a case of soda pop and then piled into the Ford and took off. It wasn’t long before Tallulah fell asleep from all the orgasms Jim gave her.

"Where are we headed?" Jim asked.

"Well, you'll just find out when we get there," I said. "Did you ever rob an armory?"

Jim slapped the car seat and let go with a high-pitched laugh. And then he looked bewildered.

"An armory? What kind of armory?"

I said, "The kind with guns, dummy. We might even steal a cannon if I'm in the mood."

Jim pulled off his hat, slapped the seat with it, and shouted, "A goddamn cannon. I knew you were something the moment I set eyes on you, mister."

All that did was piss me off because Jim taking the Lord's name in vain was something I knew Tallulah would frown on if she were awake, seeing as she enjoyed reading the bible and was fond of writing poetry.

So, I grabbed Jim's hat and tossed it out the window, and called him a dumb sonofabitch and let him know I'd just as soon put a bullet through his head as look at him when it came right down to it, so he might as well get used to how he should talk around Tallulah since we were headed for Arkansas and would be hooking up with the rest of my gang soon.

He apologized hard and looked like he was getting ready to piss himself, which made me feel sorry for him, so I told him about my brother, Reginald, and how his wife, Sissy, who has a fine, hairy cunt, keeps it nice with baby powder.

"Now, how's a man know a thing like that about his brother's wife?" Jim asked.

"Well,” I said, “I guess Sissy showed me one day and asked what I wanted to do about it. She'd had no cock since the owner of a store we robbed put a load of birdshot straight in Reginald's ass. Some of that lead found its way to Reginald's pecker and fucked it up badly. At first, I told Sissy it wasn't right, her giving me a gander at her business, but then she said she was fixing to suck my cock so long as Tallulah wouldn’t mind. And then she said it’d be worth my while to let her go ahead, and Tallulah said it was ok.”

*** 

The sun started dropping out of the sky, so I pulled into a patch of trees and shut her down for the night. I had no cause for night driving because I wasn't being chased and was dead tired. Jim had been passing gas something awful for the last hour; he went behind a tree to relieve himself.

I could have left him then and there because he looked like shit in his mechanic's overalls, and he was young and out of his league and more than likely to get killed from knowing me. Still, I'm telling you now, I don't give two shits about other people's problems, and that's what kept me from driving off and letting him find his way home. 

He kept asking me what would happen next, and the more he asked, the more it pissed me off. I didn't want to shoot him for no reason, but when I saw him piss, I couldn't help but see how much bigger his cock was than mine, and then I started worrying that Tallulah would find out about it since I figured on him fucking Sissy.

And then I was worried because all I had was Tallulah, and we both knew we were going down together someday, and I wanted it to stay perfect like that.