Clifton Smoke
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 15
Western Sex Story: Chapter 15 - In the dusty, lawless town of Dreadworth, Clifton “Smokes” Peña is a washed-up beggar and voyeur, drifting through life in a haze of heat, whiskey, and peeping through saloon and brothel windows. His only talent is going unnoticed—until one night he witnesses the suffering of Sue, a tattooed prostitute at the Red Lantern, and feels something he hasn’t known in years: empathy.When Smokes confronts the brothel’s cold-eyed madam about Sue’s treatment, it sparks a fragile bond between him
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fiction Crime Farming Rags To Riches Western Polygamy/Polyamory Cat-Fighting AI Generated
The journey to the Pena-Stephens farm was a grueling one, with more than ten cowboys, including Smokes and the enigmatic Roxie, herding the hundred cows along the dusty trail. The cows lowed and bellowed, their eyes wild with fear and confusion as they were driven from the familiarity of Mellow Flats to the uncharted territory of Freedom Worth. The cowboys worked in a synchronized dance, their spurs jingling in rhythm with the clank of the cattle’s bells.
Roxie, in her element, rode alongside Smokes, her auburn hair flying in the wind, her face a mask of concentration as she directed the cows with a series of sharp whistles and expert lashes of her whip. The sun beat down on them, turning their clothes to rags and their skin to leather, but she never complained, her movements as fluid and graceful as a panther stalking its prey. Sue watched her, a mix of admiration and wariness in her eyes. Despite her own burgeoning strength, she knew that Roxie was a force to be reckoned with.
When they finally reached the farm, the cows were herded into the newly constructed corral with a sigh of relief from all involved. The cowboys dismounted, their weary bodies aching from the long ride. Smoke looked over at Roxie, the dust on her face making her look like a creature from another world, fiery and untouchable.
“Before we get to work,” he began, his voice low and gruff, “I need to claim what’s rightfully mine.” His hand reached out, grasping her arm firmly, pulling her aside from the others.
Roxie looked at him, her eyes as hard as the sun-baked earth beneath their boots. “What do you mean?” she asked, though she knew all too well the implications of his words.
Smoke didn’t bother to explain. He led her into the barn, his grip on her arm tightening. The barn was cool and dim, the scent of hay and leather enveloping them as they stepped inside. The door creaked shut behind them, cutting off the sounds of the farm. He didn’t release her until they were far enough inside that they couldn’t be seen from the house, then he turned to face her.
“I ain’t like your husband,” he said gruffly, his eyes burning into hers. “But I need to know what I’m getting into.”
Roxie raised an eyebrow, the challenge clear. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she drawled, her voice as smooth as the whiskey they had shared earlier.
Smoke’s eyes narrowed. “You know what it means,” he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I need to know that you can handle the work, that you’re worth the gold we’re paying.”
Roxie stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and excitement. “You want to see what I can do?” she challenged, her voice filled with a fiery passion that made Smoke’s heart race. “Fine.”
With surprising agility, she dropped to her knees, her hands fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. She shrugged it off, revealing a lacy corset that barely contained her ample breasts. With a flick of her wrist, she unclipped it, letting it fall to the ground in a pool of fabric. Her skin was pale and soft, a stark contrast to the roughness of the barn around them. She bent over, her skirt riding up to expose her shapely hips and the tops of her stockings. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes filled with a wild challenge.
Smoke didn’t need any further invitation. He unbuckled his belt, the leather slapping against his thigh as he pulled it free. His pants followed, revealing his hard cock, which stood at attention like a flag in the wind. He stepped closer, his boots echoing in the stillness of the barn. He reached out, gripping her by the hips, his calloused hands branding her soft skin.
He entered her in one swift motion, her gasp of surprise and pleasure mixing with the sounds of the farm outside. Her pussy was tight and wet, a testament to her excitement. He began to thrust into her, his movements powerful and sure. Roxie’s head fell forward, her hair obscuring her face as she moaned, her body moving in time with his. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the barn, a raw and primal symphony that seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath them.
Smoke felt a savage joy rise within him as he claimed her, the power of the act making him feel more alive than he had in years. Roxie’s body arched back, pushing against him, urging him deeper. Her nails dug into the wood of the barn wall, leaving little half-moons in the soft wood. The cows in the corral outside had gone quiet, as if they too were watching the scene unfold.
Smoke could feel the tension building within him, a pressure that threatened to burst like a dam. He quickened his pace, his breath coming in harsh gasps. Roxie’s moans grew louder, her body trembling with the force of her impending climax. And then, with a final, savage thrust, he was there, his cock spurting deep within her, filling her with his seed.
The sound of their passion echoed through the barn, a declaration of ownership that seemed to shake the very foundation of the building. Smoke’s grip on her hips tightened as he emptied himself into her, his body shuddering with the intensity of his release. Roxie’s legs gave out, and she slumped against the wall, her chest heaving with the exertion.
They stood there for a moment, panting and spent, their bodies still joined. The dust motes danced in the shafts of light that pierced the gloom, a silent audience to their clandestine union. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion that seemed to stand apart from the rest of their lives, a secret shared only by the two of them.
Finally, with a grunt, Smoke pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He tucked himself away, his eyes never leaving hers. Roxie straightened, pulling her skirt down and refastening her corset with trembling hands. “You drive a hard bargain, Pena,” she murmured, a hint of admiration in her voice.
Smoke didn’t bother to respond. He knew that words were unnecessary in moments like these. Instead, he offered her a hand up, and together, they stepped out of the barn, back into the blinding light of day, their secret hidden behind the dusty facade of the west.
The tension between them was palpable as they returned to the others, who were busy tending to the cows. Lucille looked up as they emerged, her eyes questioning. Smoke felt a twinge of guilt, but it was quickly swallowed by the knowledge that this was the way of the west. Survival meant making hard choices, and he had made his.
The day passed in a blur of work and passion. Roxie taught him all she knew about cattle, her hands deft and sure as they worked alongside Smoke and Lucille. The nights were filled with whispers and soft moans, as their bedroom became a place of escape and exploration. Despite the initial unease, the arrangement grew into something more, a strange sort of friendship born of necessity and desire.
In the quiet of their bedroom, the three lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies slick with sweat and love. Roxie’s auburn hair fanned out like a halo on the pillow, her eyes closed in satisfaction. Lucille lay beside her, her blonde hair a stark contrast to the redhead’s, her breathing slow and even. Smoke’s chest heaved with the exertion of their lovemaking, his arm thrown protectively over them both.
The candle on the nightstand had burned low, casting flickering shadows across their skin. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the sweetness of their shared passion. It was a moment of peace in the chaos of their lives, a brief respite from the hardships of the west. They had found something in each other that transcended the grime and dust of their daily toil, a connection that was as real and as solid as the gold that had brought them together.
As they lay there, their hearts pounding in sync, they shared stories of their pasts, their dreams for the future, and the fears that kept them awake at night. Roxie spoke of her love for the land, for the feel of the earth beneath her feet and the cattle that she had come to know so well. Lucille spoke of her days as a dancer, the lights and the music, and the pain that had driven her west. And Smoke, his voice rough with emotion, spoke of his years as a beggar, the hunger and the cold, and the surprising warmth he had found in the arms of these two women.
Their laughter and whispers filled the night, a gentle counterpoint to the harshness of their days. It was in these moments that they were truly free, unshackled by the roles that society had forced upon them. They were more than just a man and his two wives; they were a family, bound by love and a shared struggle.
As the sun began to rise on Sunday, Roxie stirred, her eyes snapping open. She sat up, the sheets falling away from her body like a waterfall of gold. “Alright, you two,” she said, her voice husky with sleep, “today’s the day you learn the finer points of ranching.”
They dressed in their work clothes, the rough fabric a stark contrast to the luxuriousness of their nightwear. Erick, his eyes wide with curiosity, followed them to the barn, where the cows were already stirring. Roxie had set up a makeshift classroom, complete with a wooden stool and a pail. She looked over at Smoke, her expression serious. “This isn’t just about getting milk,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “It’s about respect. You treat these animals right, and they’ll give you everything you need.”
Smoke nodded, his hand resting on Erick’s shoulder. The boy looked up at him, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement and fear. “You’ll do fine,” he murmured, his voice filled with the quiet confidence that had carried them through so much.
They approached the first cow, a docile creature with a gentle eye. Roxie demonstrated the art of milking, her hands moving with a grace that belied their strength. She showed them how to coax the milk from the teats, her movements rhythmic and soothing. Sue watched, her eyes wide, as the milk squirted into the pail, the sound like the ticking of a clock.
Lucille stepped forward, her own trepidation evident. “Let me try,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. Roxie handed her the stool and the pail, stepping back to observe. With a deep breath, she sat down and began to milk, her movements tentative at first, but growing stronger with each stroke.
Smoke watched them, his heart swelling with pride. They were learning, growing stronger together. It was a sight that filled him with hope, a promise of a future that was more than just survival. It was a life, a real life, with love and family and the promise of something more.