Doc and the French Whore
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2015 by Tony Sorrentino

Western Sex Story: Chapter 1 - He was a real Physician but his guns were his true calling in life.

Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Violence  

I poured the whiskey with a shaky hand because I hadn't had a drop of the good stuff for the better part of a day. That was unusual for me because I generally ran on the rotgut to keep me on track and make my brain work satisfactorily. I knew my tolerance level was fairly high because of the years of imbibing too much and too often.

My female companion of these past few months was "Big lips" Kate who made a point of telling everyone she met with a few minutes that she was really French and not an American like everyone else. She did speak with a French accent but I had my suspicions that it was all just an act to squeeze more gold from the miners and greenbacks from the cowboys looking for a soft sweet treat to liven up their short lives.

She was with me primarily because I fed her greedy kitty with enough cash to make her purr with joy and I humped her all hell for leather when the mood struck me. I loved the way she had all these airs of being true aristocracy and her affectations of a royal background but when the lights went down she was a real spitfire that needed her hole filled hard and fast.

I guess I got plumb tuckered out more often than not unable to keep up with her demands and I didn't object when she went looking for more available cock in those places that catered to females of dubious character and behavior. I caught her one time getting it in her rump by some tinhorn card sharp who couldn't palm an ace to save his life. I have to admit I was more amused at the fellow's enthusiasm in pinning her against the wall than I was in her apparent loss of dignity by taking it up the ass.

We were both relaxing in the room before the card game started downstairs in the saloon and I watched her adjusting her female undies and powdering her privates with the special "French" nice smelling female powder imported all the way from Paris, France. I have to admit she did smell downright inviting every time she used the stuff before we visited the game room. I have been on a winning streak ever since I hooked up with Kate and she was sort of a good luck charm even if she found it necessary to find "backup" cock every now and then to keep her fires stoked nicely.

She had asked me once or twice if I might enjoy an excursion up her rear portal of love with a whine in her voice and a look in her eye that was not present in a decent female's expression but I found it a bit disgusting and below a real "lady's" sense of appropriate behavior. She told me that she had become addicted to the backside style of loving when she had worked in a brothel down in New Orleans and that all the fine gentlemen seemed to prefer screwing their playmates in that unnatural opening just to hear them squeal and grunt as they lost their dignity and pride under the weight of the paying customer. She was of the opinion that most females liked the practice but were afraid to admit it because it made them seem crude and depraved even to the rough crowd in such places. I felt that she was mistaken because most women asked to bend over for such a treat had been in my experience far less than enthusiastic. I had countless objects like shoes, glasses and even bottles thrown at me for the depraved suggestion by many a young lady. Fortunately, I am the type that always bounces back and usually was "back in the saddle" before very long.

Everybody calls me "Doc" because in point of fact I graduated from medical school back east with honors and got my training in the trenches of the Civil War at places like Gettysburg and Shiloh. I had done more amputations than a butcher at the meat market in Philadelphia, Pee A.

I kind of lost my drive to be a medical person after that and sort of drifted into card playing as a life style choice because my favorite vices were cards, women and booze but not necessarily in that order. Somewhere along the way I had developed a tricky case of angina that weakened me without warning from time to time. I had taken Kate as my companion because despite her many faults and her needy pussy that found just one cock lacking, she knew how to monitor me for my pill taking and was strict with me when she saw I was getting into one of those "moments" of weakness. It helped to have her mouth and slit handy to keep me from hunting down other willing receptacles of the flesh and over-indulging when it was not a good idea for my health. She also kept me from excess imbibing except for those times when I needed a vast infusion of the spirits to drive away the bloody visions in my mind of men without arms or legs.

I followed Kate down the stairs watching all the male eyes ogling her and raping her in their dirty minds. She did look resplendent in her Paris imported finery and when she walked her sensuous movement made men's cocks take note. Other women around Kate all seemed lackluster in comparison.

The saloon was crowded this evening.

There was a cattle drive just arrived in town and the bar was jammed with dirty, dusty cowboys eager to spend their pay on booze and a shot at one of the whores that worked for the "house" on a commission basis. They made certain their companion for the evening kept drinking and even gambling at the tables and eventually got him all naked in one of the upstairs bedrooms for a ride that he would remember for quite a long time. Those girls didn't last long at the trade because the men were all on the rough side and tended to wear the girls out with their demands and their heavy hands. I had once owned a similar establishment down Wichita way and discovered you were lucky to get a full season out of them before they faded into the background as a farmer's wife or one of the females washing clothes working next to squaws and slant-eyed girls from across the Pacific Ocean. That was usually the end of the road for them unless they hooked up with some "desperate for pussy" recluse from some Godforsaken outpost devoid of the female touch.

Kate and I took a chair at the poker table being hosted by none other than the famous lawman visiting the railhead town to collect a reward on a pair of bank-robbing murderers he gunned down on a hot Arizona day in the middle of the wagon-wheel rutted street as they tried their best to terrorize the local citizens. The Cattleman's Association wanted visual proof of death so he had generously carried their severed heads back for their inspection. I thought it to be a bit gruesome but $500 x 2 was a motivation for making the journey that I had to respect. We knew each other having served together in the long-ago war but he had changed drastically and I expect I had as well.

My female companion poured me a shot of whiskey checking my eyes to make certain I was not overly excited or stressed. The lawman looked at me with a sad expression and I saw "death" in his eyes. I had seen that look before in a number of the men I had removed limbs from or stitched up knowing they didn't have much longer to live. I wondered if that was what my Kate was looking for when she looked into my tired eyes.

The game was a good one.

Besides the lawman and me, there was a card sharp from New Orleans but I knew for a fact he had never met Kate before because she was not a very good actress when it came to things like deception and lying. Then there was the Wells Fargo manager who seemed a mite peaked and who spent a lot of time looking nervously over his shoulder like he thought the devil was just itching to snatch him up. A pair of well-heeled drovers with trailhead money in their pockets rounded out the table but there was a fair to middling huddle of watchers in a circle around us knowing the reputation of the lawman to back up his cards with his six-guns when he suspected there was cheating going on. From experience, I knew that there was always cheating going on in one of these games but that was normal for the time and the place and I didn't think twice about it. I seldom resorted to cheating because winning was never my goal. I was much more interested in having the time pass quickly without thinking of the horrors in my past.

I saw Kate toss down a couple of quick shots like she was gearing up for some risky business and I figured right away she was sizing up the New Orleans card sharp as a possible ass-fucker because she thought he had that look about him. Of course, she wouldn't be so obvious as to go upstairs with him because she knew that would put a requirement on me for response that might result in gunplay. I almost laughed as she followed him out the back door to the outhouse and a frantic bend-over standing up in the darkened shadows of the barn behind the saloon. When she came back less than ten minutes later I could tell she had gotten her prize because she had a bit of difficulty sitting down and perched like a bird on the edge of the hard wooden chair.

The big winner at the table was the Wells Fargo agent who seemed to get the good cards whenever he wanted. I watched him closely and saw him palm an ace when the cards were shuffled before passing them to the next dealer. It was very skillful and I was not certain if the lawman saw it as he was putting down the whiskey as fast as he played.

I was uncertain if it was a good idea to call the cheater on his dirty style of play because I knew the lawman was explosive in nature and the entire table could wind up in the middle of a shooting gallery. I motioned to Kate to come closer and whispered in her ear that I needed my eye glasses from the hotel room as my vision was a bit blurry this evening. She looked at me strangely and seemed on the verge of questioning my motive but thought better of it and flounced out the swinging doors to head to the hotel next door and retrieve my spectacles. Of course, it was just a ploy to get her out of the line of fire if the whole thing went south in a hurry.

Fortunately, the Wells Fargo agent cooled his heels with the cheating and Kate returned with no flare up having taken place. I put on my glasses and was just about to make a bet since I had a pair of black aces that looked real good to me considering I hadn't had a good hand since the game had started. It all happened so fast that I was caught by surprise and that is not common for me since I had lived by my wits ever since the war.

"Mister Wells Fargo man, I believe you have a card up your sleeve!"

Suddenly, there was silence at the table and the circle of onlookers pulled back as if anticipating the gunplay. The nervous man with the twitching eyes was reaching under the table for his sidearm and I saw the lawman lean back and saw and heard the quick blasts of both his six-shooters driving slugs into the agent's guts. It didn't finish him off and he managed to get his piece above the table top and fired off a round straight into my right shoulder with some considerable pain and shock. I couldn't draw my gun with my right hand and had to search for my little peashooter of a derringer with my left hand but the hammer got hung up on a strand of clothing.

That was when Kate leaned in and shoved her stiletto which was hidden in her unmentionables straight into the Wells Fargo agent's ear ending his span of life on this earth. She wiped it off on his vest and hid it away leaving most onlookers unsure what had just occurred. Kate assisted me to the door so we could make our way to our hotel room where I had the proper medical supplies to stitch and close my wound without much difficulty since the slug had not found its way inside my body.

I had been planning to spank her hard for fooling around with the card sharp but her quick actions caused me to modify my plans and I simply climbed into bed with her and let her hold me until we both fell asleep with dreams of a quiet existence in a peaceful land without violence.

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