Clifton Smoke
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 3
Western Sex Story: Chapter 3 - 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
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with fiery hues, Smokes and Sue sat on the balcony, their legs dangling over the edge. He took her hand in his, feeling the calloused pads of her fingers, a map of her pain and survival. “We can’t keep living like this,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Sue looked at him, her eyes reflecting the fading light. “I know,” she said softly. “But for now, let’s just enjoy the sunset.”
They sat in silence, the warmth of the day giving way to the cool embrace of night. The sounds of the town below them grew distant, replaced by the beating of their hearts and the promise of change that hung in the air.
Smokes knew he couldn’t let things stand as they were. He had to find a way to free Sue from her gilded cage. His old habits whispered to him, urging him to return to the shadows and continue his peeping ways, but now, he had a purpose that transcended his own desires.
One night, as they watched the stars emerge from the velvet blanket of the night sky, Sue confided in him her secret dream of escape. She’d been saving money for years, stashed away in a hidden compartment in her piano, and had a plan to leave Dreadworth and start anew. Her eyes searched his, a silent plea for his help.
Smokes took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his own past pressing down on him. He knew the temptation of the easy way out, the allure of the shadows that had been his home for so long. But he also knew the taste of redemption, the sweetness of doing the right thing. “Take all the money,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll get you a horse and some supplies for the journey.”
Sue’s eyes widened with hope, the first real spark he’d seen in them since their friendship had blossomed. She knew the risks of trusting a man, especially one like Smokes, but she also knew the depth of his regret and the strength of his newfound resolve. “You’d do that for me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I would,” he replied, his grip on her hand tightening. “You’ve shown me that there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. Let me help you find your way out of here.”
The following day, Sue slipped him the money she’d saved over the years, her eyes gleaming with a mix of hope and fear. The weight of the coins in his pocket felt heavier than any burden he’d ever carried. He approached Larry, the town’s stable owner, with a sense of purpose that had eluded him for decades. “I need a good horse,” he said, his voice firm, “and supplies for a journey.”
Larry looked him over, one eyebrow arched in surprise. “You planning on leaving us, Smokes?”
“Something like that,” Smokes replied, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve got business to attend to, and I might need a little protection.”
Larry studied him for a moment, the curiosity in his eyes giving way to a knowing smile. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” he said, nodding. “I’ve got just the thing.” He turned and disappeared into the back of the stable, emerging with a worn but well-maintained Colt Peacemaker. “This here’s a good’n,” he said, slapping the gun into Smokes’ palm. “It’s seen some action, but it’s got plenty of life left in it.”
Smokes felt the cold steel, the weight of it familiar and comforting. It had been a long time since he’d held a weapon with the intention of using it to protect rather than to threaten. He nodded his thanks, tucking the gun into his belt, and followed Larry to the corral where a sleek, dappled gray mare waited. The animal looked up at him, her eyes filled with a quiet intelligence. “This is Dusty,” Larry said. “She’s fast, sure-footed, and got more heart than most men I know.”
They haggled over the price of the horse and supplies, and by the time the sun dipped low in the sky, Smokes had secured everything they would need for Sue’s escape. The anticipation in the air was palpable as he made his way back to the brothel, the thud of Dusty’s hooves echoing through the dusty streets of Dreadworth. The townsfolk had begun to see him in a new light, and while he felt the beginnings of pride, he knew that this was only the start of a much larger journey.
The next evening, as the sun painted the sky with shades of crimson and gold, Smokes led a sturdy mare around the back of the Red Lantern. The animal was laden with supplies: a saddle, a bedroll, a satchel of jerky, and a canteen slung over her side. He knew it was risky, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the right thing to do.
As he approached Sue’s window, his heart hammered against his ribs. The plan was simple: he’d help her climb down, they’d ride out of town under the cover of darkness, and she’d be free. But the reality was far more complicated, especially when he considered the madam’s wrath and the possibility of the Four Horsemen’s vengeful spirits still lingering.
He called out softly, his voice barely audible over the distant strains of a saloon piano. “Sue,” he whispered, “it’s time.” He heard the rustling of fabric and the faint sound of her bare feet on the wooden floor. The curtains parted, and her face appeared in the window, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and terror.
“Ready?”
Sue nodded, her eyes shimmering with a mix of excitement and fear. She slipped out of the window, her bare feet finding purchase on the makeshift rope ladder Smokes had made from bedsheets. The fabric bit into her palms as she descended, the dust of the alleyway rising to greet her. The horse, sensing the tension, snorted softly, its breath warm in the cool evening air.
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