John’s eyes were drawn to motion at the back. He watched as Jessie in a long cotton frock, her pink bonnet laced under her chin, her hands lifting her dress at her hips to avoid tripping, made her way delicately up the wooden stairs. Dusty motioned to her and she leaned in so he could whisper in her ear. She looked up and her eyes caught John’s across the room. He blushed. Even from this distance she must know. It made his cheeks flush red. Jessie disappeared up the steps, a new lightness in her step, her face beaming. John looked away trying to feign lack of interest. He was a man after all, a gunfighter. After a while Dusty made his way back to John. “She says give her a while to get ready. You go up and visit when I give you the signal.” John nodded and then decided to amble outside. He stood on the wooden sidewalk elevated off the mud street so that you could avoid the muck when bad storms came in. He looked up and down the stretch of road where in a few hours he would need to. Chris had an androgynousname. Marissa could just imagine the club's reaction to a girl named Ralph or Frank or something equally masculine.Marissa simply couldn't believe her eyes, watching Chrisrespond to all Topper's suggestions. He wasn't the star of the show, but he was close. She thought he did pretty well,considering everything. When the hypnotist asked him to imagine he was a stripper, he didn't take anything off, but he managed to buck his hips quite a bit, and shake his bottom, even flashed the audience his little black thong with a whip of that gorgeous red dress.In all, Marissa was having a hell of a time, but was dreading the ride home. She could imagine his anger, "How could you let that happen to me?" and so on. So, she might as well enjoy it while she could, because she knew she'd be getting it later.That thought struck her as a typical male reaction. Don'tthink about it now; deal with it later.Topper was done with all the other victims, and was justfinishing up with.
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