Another round! (END)

Yeah, that’s what she needed! With a smile on her face, Texas obliged Brass’s little request. She filled his glass again, this time emptying out the remainder of that bootleg booze, and watched as Brass effortlessly swallowed that smouldering swill once again. He turned his glass upside down on the table and leaned back, a big smile crossing his dumb mug.

“Y’know, HIC, it’s reaaaaal cute that you don’t think I know who you are,” he said, every word dripping with moonshine.

Texas’s eyes shot open, her body freezing up. She **** a smile across her face.

“W-what are you talking about, sir? I’m just--”

“Oh I know EXACTLY who you are,” Brass reached out, snatching the blouse of Texas’s dress and pulling her close, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Yeah, I got yer number lil’ missy.”

“I-I, I don’t, y-you’re not, I mean--” Texas was struggling to focus, her brain muddled by both fear and the stink of **** on Brass’s breath.

“YUP. You’re,” He licked his lips, “The cutie that’s been buyin me all these drinks. Thought you could fool me, huh? Actin’ like someone else was footing the bill. I could see how you were lookin’ me up and down, thought I wouldn’t notice. Well I like a girl who ain’t afraid of a real man.”

Texas opened her mouth to defend herself, but Brass was quicker on the draw. He pressed his lips to hers, his fat bull tongue slamming into her throat and swabbing her esophagus out with his liquored up spittle. It was so thick with that heady moonshine that Texas could feel herself getting drunk off of just making out with him. When he finally pulled back, the weasel was a limp puppet in his hands, cross-eyed and dizzy.

“Heh, don’t get too exhausted yet, that ain’t even the foreplay!” Brass said, running his tongue across his lips, “Since yer so happy to spend money on the good stuff, I figure you won’t mind putting some cash down for a private room tonight? You can worry about the bill tomorrow~”

Texas could feel in the back of her brain that she should be ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED of this, but the contact high she’d gotten off that moonshine was dulling her senses too hard to act on it. Brass threw her over one shoulder and lumbered up the stairs to the inn’s bedrooms. He nearly toppled over a few times, but he managed to successfully deliver his lucky partner to the nearest bed before slamming the door behind him.

“Hope yer ready to ride hard and put away wet, cutie.” He slurred out, wobbling his hips and shaking his beastly bull parts over the dizzy weasel. He cocked one leg and grunted out a quick fart, fanning it away dumbly, “And I mean REAL wet.”

As Brass climbed up on top of her, his erection easily the size of her entire body, Texas could do nothing but pray that she’d survive the encounter.

And unfortunately for her, she would.

Rumors would swirl for years about what truly happened between those two in that little locked-up lovenest, but all anyone could ever know for sure was that the very foundation of the Crushed Weasel (And some would say the entire town of Gold Springs) was shaking the entire night as Brass took Texas for the bull ride of her life. Underneath the sounds of earthshattering sex and skycracking farts, some citizens could swear they heard Texas’s cries of agony slowly turn to moans of pleasure, but nobody could ever confirm such a thing.

All anyone ever knew for sure was that Black Brass walked out of that bedroom the next morning with a splitting hangover and no recollection of what had happened the night before. He couldn’t even remember challenging Texas to a duel, that bootleg moonshine had completely obliterated his memories of her.

Which is a shame, because he wished he knew more about the weasel tattoo that was now permanently smeared into his pelvis, right above his big black mast. The tattooed Texas herself sure wasn’t gonna tell him, after all.