Gone to Texas
Chapter 1

Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, NonConsensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Western, Rough, Spanking, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, Oral Sex, Violent,

Desc: Western Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The most popular slogan in the post Civil War period was "Gone to Texas" or simply "GTT" because the promise of living in a free society without restrictions of too much government was too tempting to resist.

Caleb Winters sat easy in the saddle with his legs out of the stirrups and his spurs removed just to get them out of the way for the remainder of the journey. He seldom used the things except in emergency situations like getting out of the way of some marauding hostiles off the reservation making a general nuisance of themselves in the sparsely populated areas.

His back trail was littered with bodies, but his conscience was clear and he had no lawmen posting wanted posters for his capture and return. His jeans were looking a bit seedy because he was no shakes in sewing or stitching up holes and tears in his limited traveling attire. In fact, he didn’t think there was a single sock without a hole in it somewhere.

Thinking back, he remembered the nice Mormon girl that made a project of cleaning and repairing his clothing the previous winter up Utah way much to the displeasure of her strict-minded father with a beard that made him look like he popped out of a bible.

Her name was Hope and he was smitten the first time he laid eyes on her sitting next to the window with the light coming through and highlighting her beautiful long dark hair. He recollected that she had blushed sensing his eyes undressing her in his mind despite the fact she was covered most modestly from neck to ankle. Those Mormon girls were notorious for being sweet as honey on the outside but wild untamed tigers in the bedroom when the lights went down real low. He didn’t know about Hope being one of those and he never did stay long enough to find out for sure. His suspicion was that she filled that bill from the way she let her tongue slip out every now and then to send him a signal she was biding her time and waiting for him to make a move.

He was sorely tempted to do just that but his experience with the unusual religious cult was that they took such matters real serious and their brand of justice was more ruthless than the savages on the reservation. It was a losing proposition to him because he would lose out on his plans to go to the promised land of Texas before the winter was upon them another time. He was certain the stern-faced father would not want his daughter to go in the arms of an unbeliever and a carrier of weapons even into places of worship.

Fortunately, he managed to run down an unlikely source of real French brandy in a widow’s home that catered to lonely bachelors and transients not confirmed in the Mormon ways.

The widow was not Mormon and neither were her two daughters, but the religious folk let her stay in their settlement because she provided a valuable service that dated back to the beginnings of time immemorial and unlikely to ever cease to exist before the final calling.

The eldest daughter was called Mercy and he thought that was strange because she was the type that showed no mercy to a fellow that lost his stamina in the middle of a happy meeting of the flesh in carnal embrace of the sinful kind.

Caleb had no problem with paying for his pleasure and that was the normal way in the harsh conditions of a country with few females to satisfy the needs of the male populace often driven to violence to relieve their urges. In this case, it turned out that Mercy was a lot more violent than Caleb because she dug her long nails into his backside and scratched his back like a frenzied tigress when he delivered the goods to her private feminine core. She purred like a tiger just as well and clung to him like a vine when he made a move to let her go on with her devices without him to slow her down.

“Please don’t leave yet, Caleb. I promise to make you feel real good again. There are some things I can show you that I bet you haven’t done yet. These Mormons are all so straight and narrow that they don’t even want me to talk when we are doing it. Thank God for the travelers coming through willing to show a girl a good time and let me have it good and proper.”

Caleb hoped he was in that category and allowed it was reasonable to stay a bit longer just for Mercy’s sake.

He was downright tuckered out the next day and he saw the frown on Hope’s pretty face. That was enough to get him organized and packed for moving on and it was probably all for the best because the adventure of Texas was waiting with open arms for him to hit the trail without further delay.

Now he was almost to the Texas border and this raw hastily thrown up boom-town was straddling the newly laid steel rails of the railroad helping move the steers from their western grazing range to the meat-packing factories that would send the tasty beef to the meat hungry masses of immigrants in the Eastern cities. It was either that or let the steers walk off the valued fat of tender cuts and made them too lean and tough for eager taste-buds. The cattle drive trails were rift with danger from rustlers and savages all looking to take their slice of the pie at the expense of the owners and the cowboys that were more expert at herding cattle than shooting from the back of a running horse.

He was almost out of everything and all he could think about was finding some work that would allow him to feed his horse and get it reshod with the metal shoes that kept it mobile over all kinds of harsh terrain.

Caleb saw a long train filled with passengers pull into the plain wooden plank platform.

It looked mostly like settlers and farmers from back east using the railroad instead of making the trip by wagon train with all its dangers and chance of injury or even death. Momentarily, he experienced a pang of regret at leaving Mercy behind in the middle of a whole lot of self-righteous psalm-singers with little inclination to admit their hypocrisy to others.

It was too late now and he needed to focus on the matters at hand and finalize the transfer of the deed for the small ranch he had purchased by mail at a rock bottom price that seemed almost like he was stealing the land. The land survey office confirmed that all of the particulars in his papers were accurate and that there were no hidden liens or other surprises related to the property.

The clerk at the courthouse stamped everything all legal like and he tucked the fresh deed into his inside pocket and saddled up ready to head out to his new home without delay. There was a gaggle of folks at the stable all looking to either rent or buy a buckboard to transport their families to relatives nearby or to one of the smaller settlements where housing and food was a whole lot cheaper and jobs were plentiful. She showed me on the rudimentary map the exact distance to the corner markers and told me that I also had full right of access across the large ranch between my spread and the railroad.

He was also given the bill of sale on four mounts in the stable that transferred with the property as well as a double bench wagon and harness for all four horses. He hitched up his horse to the back of the wagon and loaded supplies from the general store like coffee and flour and bacon. Caleb didn’t like the eyes watching every move he made but it was a free country and people had a right to be looking where they wanted as long as they didn’t make any trouble.

A couple of the heads of household sitting on their luggage on the station platform approached him to inquire if he was interested in selling his rig but he told them he was heading out and needed it for his ranch. He loaded the last of the supplies and looked up to see a young woman standing in front of him with her hands on her hips like she was looking for a fight.

“Do you own this buckboard, mister?”

Caleb looked the girl over and decided she was a lot older than he had thought at first. It was the lines at the corners of her eyes and the fact she was the first woman he had ever seen with a broken nose. Strangely, it didn’t detract from her overall appeal because it was sitting in the middle of the prettiest face he had seen in a long time.

“Sure do, miss, I am heading out to my spread down Laredo way and am fixing to get started right away.”

She looked at him with the bluest eyes he had seen since the last time he had been up close and personal with his fiancée Mary just before the war broke out and they were split up never to meet ever again. He was certainly not welcome below the Mason-Dixon line now and the chance to make amends with his old friends and relatives was as unlikely as snow in July.

The female vision in pink and white fiddled with her stray curls not realizing it made her look like she was flirting and nervously asked,

“Might it be possible to allow my sisters and I to accompany you to the railhead in Laredo? The line is blocked due to new construction and we have no way to complete our journey to meet our new husbands at their copper mine. We would be happy to pay you for the inconvenience and promise not to make a nuisance of ourselves on the way.”

Caleb looked over at the platform and saw two slender women standing next to each other on the edge of station with three large trunks sitting one on top of the other identical in every way except for the names on the front. They were clearly marked,

“Eliza”, “Constance” and “Dorinda”.

He wondered which one belonged to the blue-eyed girl standing right next to him. In actuality he could picture her with any one of the unique names of declining popularity. He looked at his empty buckboard with just his supplies sitting all the way in the rear and had to admit there was plenty of room for the three females. He considered it might be a blessing in disguise because it gave him a cover of sorts to be in the company of three modestly dressed females heading to pre-arranged marriages in the harsh frontier.

After a slight hesitation and watching the girl’s face searching his for a clue of his inclination, he decided to let them ride with him because he knew if they were to stay on that platform into the nightfall, the rowdy cowboys in the saloon would likely harass them just to see if they might be persuaded to pass out some favors for a soft bed. The platform was loaded with women and kids and might short on men. In fact, even the men on the platform were mostly not heeled with a weapon of considerable deterrence. It was typical for newcomers from the east and it was a shortcoming that would have to be corrected if they expected to survive very long in the demanding environment.

He found out that the girl that had approached him was Eliza and that her two sisters Constance and Dorinda were war widows with little income to sustain their modest life style. She had never been married despite the fact she was the eldest of the three siblings. He suspected she was right at the thirty winters mark and that her sisters were both in their mid-twenties. The prettiest one was Dorinda with the red hair and the impressive bosom that threatened to tip her over every time she leaned forward a bit too far. They all had dresses that came all the way down to their ankles and he could only speculate that their obvious slender builds meant their feminine figures were enormously appealing to even the most sedate of members of the opposite gender. He could not be certain, but it looked like Constance was a bit peaked and she had a slight cough that might indicate the trip west was the best thing she could do by getting out of the congested areas of the eastern states.

When the three women got up off their backsides and helped Caleb carry and load the trunks on the wagon, he knew right away they were not afraid of breaking a sweat to get things done and were not like a lot of eastern belles more concerned with their cosmetic concerns than in bending over an iron or a washboard to take care of a family. The two sisters, Constance and Dorinda sat in the second row and Eliza sat next to him in the front bench. He spread thick bunk house blankets on both benches to make the journey more pleasant for the women and give them some relief from the rugged trail that tended to disappear when you least expected it.

He stood behind her to boost one of the heavy trunks up into the wagon and he could feel her sturdy leg muscles flexing with infinite strength beneath his aroused groin region. He knew she could feel his desire pressing her with delicate pressure and knew instinctively she was desperate to merge her flesh with a deserving mate while she was still able to produce a child in nubile fertility. It was very telling that she did not flinch from his hardness and made no mention of his urgings to embarrass him in front of her sisters.

They made good time that first day and settled in for the night next to a swift running stream carrying clear mountain water from the melting snow that was safe to drink without a need to boil it like the water from the wells in the town.

He dug a latrine for the ladies with a rain tarp to shield their delicate bottoms from an unsuspecting glance from him just when they were lifting their skirts. He could still see their heads and necks from the campfire and was able to easily guess where they were in terms of toilet from the concentration on their faces. It was a smooth operation because Dorinda did all the cooking and Constance took the clothing down to the stream to beat them vigorously until the dirt left the fabric and she hung the bloomers and other unmentionables out on a strong rope tied to trees close to the wagon. The wind dried them quickly and she was able to fold them and store them in the wagon before the sun fell below the ridge of the foothills.

Eliza helped Caleb tend to the stock and they bedded them down with plenty of feed and water to keep them comfortable during the night. They tethered them securely and Caleb even hobbled them to prevent their running away in the middle of the night. He had the funny urge to hobble the three erstwhile brides the same way but had no intention of doing anything so outrageous. They would think he had some strange notions about placing demands on their feminine mysteries with the same casual expectations of their traveling companions from back east. Of course, Caleb was not so inclined and would never approach any of them unless he was expressly invited to dip his wick in their female juices.

He noticed that Constance and Dorinda huddled together like they probably did in other circumstances. They were comfortable together and probably had shared a bed at some time in the past. Eliza was the odd one out and she bedded down right at his feet like a servant girl ready to do his bidding. It got unusually cold that night and Constance and Dorinda were able to draw warmth from each other’s bodies in an unfair contrast to Eliza. Caleb felt sorry for the girl shivering under the single blanket and he took his buffalo robe to drape on top of her forlorn figure right next to him. The other two girls were snoring in a deep sleep. Before he could stretch back down in his rack, the third sister reached out and pulled him down to her bed and showed him that she was totally naked underneath the blanket. It was apparently the way she liked to sleep and she loved the freedom of movement her nudity gave her as she tossed and turned. She was not tossing and turning at that moment. In fact, all she was doing was exploring Caleb’s manliness and guiding him to her dripping nest of eager anticipation. He knew she was long overdue for a man’s touch from the way she moaned in appreciation when he merely touched her outer fold with his tool of manly control. She wrapped her legs around him possessively and whispered,

“Be quiet, I don’t want my sisters to know what a naughty girl I am being this evening.”

After that, they got right down to business and before they dropped off to sleep in each other’s arms, he had triggered her orgasm no less than three times. The last time was magical for Eliza and she clung to him with shuddering joy until she was able to stop spinning in abject chaos and total lack of logic.

No words passed between them.

The sense of touch was their primary means of communication and they had a perfect connection reading each other’s minds like a stage act at a county fair.

Shortly before the sun rose in the morning, Caleb crawled silently back into his bed hoping neither of the sisters saw him moving off of their sister like a thief in the night.

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