“You can't have it,” Jeb said in a soothing voice and sympathetic nod.
“Not at all,” Herbert said. He frowned as if deeply saddened.
“Who really can have it? You know?” Jeb asked. “You just can't tolerate it.”
Herbert took a drink out of his tumbler filled with amber liquor and smiled at Jeb.
“See, I knew you'd understand,” Herbert said. “Specifically you. I knew you would understand. I asked around about you before I wrote, to see how you were fairing these days. Last I'd heard you were still rousting the Indians out of the foothills and driving them out onto the plains to hunted down like animals.”
Jeb's face went blank. It wasn't something he was proud of, having done that. The money had been there, though. And he hadn't been the one who'd done the killing.
“I was just a guide,” Jeb said. “And as a matter of fact, I was less than that during that journey on several occasions.”
Herbert made to reply with a look on his face like he'd wished Jeb's attitude hadn't turned defensive but a drunken guest stumbled into both of them as they stood by the window. Jeb had to help Herbert keep his balance by grabbing onto his harm. It wasn't that Herbert was especially drunk, but he was also a very portly man. Herbert made his living from a meat processing plant in one of the smaller towns in Black Hawk County, and he looked like he spent a good amount of time taking his job as “quality inspector” very seriously.
“I'm not trying to open old wounds, my boy,” Herbert said. “I'm just saying that it's good that you already know what needs to be done if it comes to that. Nothing more. It's not like we are talking about doing anything immoral here. There are people that seek to disrupt the general welfare of the people that live here, and that will not be tolerated. Some of those people will, to put it plainly, need shot. And a few of them post haste. We are not in the business of putting up with the bullshit from the scum of society.”
That night in the fancy hotel room Herbert had put him up at, a woman came to his door. She had the look about her of someone Romanian. Jeb let her in knowing that she would want to have sex with him in very short order and that her services had been paid for by the same people that had paid for the room. Jeb didn't really know how to feel about it, though. While he wanted to have sex with her because she was attractive it seemed a bit sordid to bang out some call girl in the middle of the night after discussing more or less discussing how as sheriff he would rule with an iron fist at a party; but in the end he wanted it enough where it didn't matter how sordid it was.
“Whats your name, sweetheart?” Jeb asked.
“Betsy,” she said.
She reached out and tugged at Jeb's belt.
“You've got to get naked,” Betsy said. “It won't do to have you keep your clothes on with you looking so good.”
There wasn't something about Betsy that Jeb couldn't put his finger on though, something that seemed to slip his mind and of his tongue every time he came close to getting at it. She had a certain sparkle about her that seemed to shift, like a kind of dust of flashing motes that clung about her person almost as an aura. Jeb hadn't seen anything like it before, but eventually he just felt weary of thinking of it, like the mere thought of it was like a giant millstone on his back and he desperately needed it off of him. In a flash his clothes were off, almost like he hadn't taken them off. Jeb knew he was blacking out though, and it made perfect sense that he would black out a little bit, even though it wasn't something that happened to him normally and he hadn't had but a few drinks while at the ball.
Betsy was on her knees in front of him, caressing his swollen member, slowly tugging it to a more rigid state. Betsy leaned her head down and ran her tongue over the ridges that the bulging veins on his dick made. Jeb couldn't believe that such a beautiful woman was blowing him. He reached down and into the front of Betsy shirt, cupping her breasts.
“Oh yes,” Betsy said. “Squeeze my breasts. Knead them. Oh yes, just like that.”
Then she went back to licking his dick, bobbing her head up and down the length of it like it was a Popsicle. Betsy pumped her hand up and down Jeb's long, hard cock furiously, seeing if she could make him bust his load right away so she could be done with it. Jeb held out though, his eyes rolling back into his head. He wanted to fuck her.
“Get up,” Jeb said. “Get up and bend over the bed.”
But Betsy just worked harder on his dick, playing with his balls while she deep throated as much of his throbbing erection as she could. Jeb couldn't believe that she could take his entire dick down her throat. It felt so amazing. Betsy worked her throat muscles over Jeb's cock while it was in her throat, bobbing back and forward for a little extra stimulation while she played with his balls.
“Oh yeah, that's it,” Jeb said. “Fucking right baby, just like that. Suck that dick. Oh fuck yes.”
Without giving Betsy any warning he started coming again and again in her mouth, his dick shooting rope after thick rope. Betsy swallowed them all no problem. Before he knew what was happening Betsy had gone and he was standing by himself naked and disoriented in his room. The next morning all he remembered from the conversation that he'd had with Herbert was Herbert telling him that it was good he knew what it took and all Jeb remembered of the night was some stranger name Betsy giving him the best blow job of his life and stealing all of the money in his bill fold before she left.
Jeb had known exactly what he meant and what might need to be done. So in a few short months a phony election was rigged up and Jeb became the new Sheriff of Black Hawk County.