The sound of gunfire halted the dancing vixen who had been twirling about a pole on stage. The steel bar was between her thighs as her long legs were elevated in an acute V angle as her left hand kept her form suspended. Lady’s brown-sugar eyes were wide as she peered through the darkness, squinting beyond the blinding spotlight at the gunman who was fleeting anxiously from the bar. She lowered her legs, settling back on the balls of her feet before she gracefully trotted for the edge of the stage. The men’s fists tightened about the wad of cash within their hands. She was going to select one of them, they just knew it.<br/><br/>The Best in the West was already prepared as he shouldered men aside and drew from his inner pocket two fans of paper gold as he sneered proudly at the poor men around him. “Now, my Dear-” he had began, and then Lady leapt from stage. The gunman’s eyes rose above his head when he saw her firm leg pass over his head like a lance, and they followed its length to her crotch that met him right between the eyes. The crotch-punch knocked the gunman’s head back as Lady hurdled down to the floor and weaved around drunks and tables. Men were turning their heads to take in the sight of her quivering ass and bouncing breasts that were both still snug in tight spandex shorts, and a glittering bra.<br/><br/>As soon as Lady came upon the back of the stranger, she immediately reached out her hand to snag the girl’s bicep and whirl her around. “Mary!” she exclaimed. When the blonde’s dusty face whirled into her view, Magnificent couldn’t resist the thrilled squeal that left her. “Why, it is Mary!” Spreading her arms, she locked The Drifter in her big embrace. Her arms crossed about the small of her back as their breasts squished against each other. They rubbed against each other and swelled so much they looked like balloons about to pop free of their bras as stupefied men gawked at the scene anxiously.<br/><br/>Lady’s hands balled up the back of Marilyn’s duster until she could clap her hands across her bare, creamy bottom. “Oh my, someone’s breaking free of tradition,<em>hmm</em>?” she teased. “It’s been a long time, Girl. Come to see The Best in the West? It’s not who you think it is. Speaking of who, do you know by chance where Gun is?” Her toffee-pink lips curled mischievously as she teased Marilyn further, “I mean, you both are always around each other after all…”<br/><br/><br/><strong>At a saloon somewhere in the desert…</strong><br/><br/>There was a hiss as a form shifted from beneath a creamy quilt. A masculine and calloused hand emerged from beneath the blankets and lowered onto a dusty floor. It tapped about delicately, taking in the smooth wax, and then the fuzzy backside of some fidgety mammal. With a smack from a pair of knuckles, the gray rat squeaked and went racing back to the hole it came from. A slender index finger stretched out to find the cylindrical side of a glass bottle. It was taken by the neck and craned up to the bed where the blankets were then folded back to reveal a red-headed stranger. His skin was bronze from the desert sun and his torso scarred with rings of old bullet wounds and knife cuts. A red goatee cut down the center of his chin as long, sweat-stained strands of hair were haphazardly obscuring his face. The whiskey bottle was brought to his lips as he tilted it up and gulped down the rest of the alcohol. With a relieved gasp, he held the bottle out over the side of the bed, and allowed it to plop upon his heap of clothes. There were garments and empty bottles scattered everywhere—the aftermath of quite the wild night.<br/><br/>With a groggy moan, the young man rolled over to press his chest against the soft back of a woman with wavy and fiery hair. He slung his left arm over her side and pressed his warm chapped hand against her bosom as he then nuzzled his forehead against her back. This sweet woman had given him a good night. It helped that she was already experienced. They had done so much together. A few of his<em>secret</em>sex positions that not many women got to see. He kissed the flesh about her shoulder blades and then up the side of her neck. He then laid the side of his head amongst the soft waves of her crimson tendrils, wearing a long and satisfied smile.<em>I may have to come back to this one,</em>he mused.<em>Ah, well.</em><br/><br/>The young man rolled back over to his side of the bed and sat up at the edge of it. He stifled a large morning yawn with his hand before he ran his fingers back through his long hair. He had allowed it to grow back for the winter, but it was gradually approaching spring, which meant it wasn’t going to do him any good in the sweltering heat. The man was none other than The Best in the West, The Gunslinger Zieg Deschain of Eastwood. With the title of Gunslinger under his belt, the women came<em>easier</em>. Shit, they were already coming easy before he even earned the title.<br/><br/>Zieg rose from the bed, stretching his arms high above his head and arching his back. He bore his teeth as he felt the burn of his muscles loosening and his bones uttered a few pops. Before lowering his arms, he snagged his favorite hat from the bed post and set it delicately upon his head. His eyes fell closed as he pinched the tip of his hat and adjusted it until he felt it was fashionable to his likings. Once it was straight, he brought his cough-drop eyes over his shoulder to peer at the still sleeping beauty. “Sorry Doll, but m’ah job is done here.”<br/><br/>The Gunslinger rose from the bed as he went straight into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. His attention was immediately drawn to the complimentary soaps and shampoos. Zieg stepped over to the shower stall and reached his hand behind the curtains to get the hot water running. He then chose to wait for the water to heat up, popping the toilet seat up as he did his business. If the sexy babe had been awake, he might have got in a little morning workout. Zieg couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself at the thought. There was a newspaper folded on the counter and with his elbow, he reached over and nudged it open. As it flopped open, his maroon eyes drifted over the headline that read: Best in the West at Dead Horse Saloon. He blinked his eyes in disbelief and read the headline once more. “What the hell is this shit?”<br/><br/><strong>After shower.</strong><br/><br/>Zieg stretched out his arms and rolled his shoulders once he got his tan duster on. He rested his hands on his hips as he turned to face the bed and the woman that was still asleep in it. She had better been still asleep. He was most certain he broke her back last night. He grinned impishly and crept around the bed to her side where her clothes were. “No offense, but m’ah services dun’ come free.” He went through her things, helping himself to her money though she didn’t have much on her. He then took the keys to her motorcycle, holding them up before his eyes as though they were the most dastardly devices in the world. Clutching them in his hand, The Gunslinger rose and strolled on over to the door to take his leave. He had a date with a certain Best in the West.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Dead Horse Saloon.</strong><br/><br/>The Best in the West had recovered to his feet and staggered over to where Lady and The Drifter were, grasping the area between his eyes with one hand and waving a double fan of money in the other. It was wafting a cool breeze in their direction as he offered, “Both of you fine ladies must be mine tonight! Surely, you’d want to see what The Best in the West can do?”<br/><br/>Lady eyed the fan of money, calculating the sum in her head as though she might really consider bedding the man. She knew he wasn’t the true Best in the West, but she also knew that money was money and to her sex was easy. She, however, refrained from taking it so habitually, and instead, glanced at Marilyn with innocent eyes. She couldn’t act like a whore in front of sweet ol’ Marilyn. “Only if you want to, Dear,” she said to Marilyn in the most honest fashion she could muster.