The Trio Rioters
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 31
Western Sex Story: Chapter 31 - In the dusty frontier town of Hootyville, three inseparable boys—Nick, Erick, and Micko—dream of escape from the monotony of school, chores, and the stern rules of adults. Known around town as “The Trio Rioters” for their mischief and daring antics, the boys chase danger like moths to flame.When they stumble upon a mysterious pamphlet promising forbidden thrills at a notorious saloon, their youthful curiosity pulls them into a world far darker than they imagined.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual NonConsensual Romantic Slavery Lesbian Fiction Crime Rags To Riches Western Incest Mother Son Humiliation Rough Orgy Interracial Black Male White Female Anal Sex Sex Toys Cat-Fighting Prostitution Violence AI Generated
The night had fallen over Hootyville like a thick, velvet blanket, the stars winking in the sky like the eyes of a thousand mischievous angels. The air was alive with the smells of roasting meat and spilled whiskey, the distant laughter and shouts of the saloons echoing through the streets. Micko felt the weight of the town’s expectations on his shoulders as he made his way to the Big Bite Saloon, where Alice and Mrs. Pearl were about to make their debut.
The saloon was already packed to the brim with eager patrons, the air thick with anticipation and lust, all hungry for the spectacle to come. Micko pushed through the crowd, his eyes searching for any sign of trouble, his heart racing with excitement and fear.
Lady Magill met him at the entrance with a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with the same greed that seemed to infect the town every time a new form of entertainment rolled into Hootyville. “Ah, Sheriff,” she purred, her voice like honeyed whiskey. “You’re just in time for the main event.”
Micko’s eyes swept over the crowd, taking in the sea of leering faces and the way they ogled the pit that had been set up in the center of the saloon, a ring of sawdust and wooden planks surrounded by a sea of facesand smeared with oil on the floor. It was wider than he had ever seen it, the wooden planks gleaming with a fresh coat of lacquer that made it look almost ... sinister. “What’s the deal with the pit?” he asked, his voice low and tense. “It’s bigger than before.”
Lady Magill’s smile grew wider, her teeth flashing in the candlelight. “Oh, that,” she said, her voice a smoky drawl. “It’s for the new show. You see, I’ve had a little idea with Alice and Mrs. Pearl, and we’ve come up with something that’s going to drive these men wild.”
Micko felt a flicker of anxiety in his stomach. “What idea?” he asked, his voice tight.
Lady Magill’s smile grew sly. “Why don’t you go upstairs and see for yourself?” she suggested, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “They’re in the blue room at the end of the hall.”
Micko’s heart pounded as he made his way up the creaky stairs, the sound of his boots echoing through the saloon’s upper level. The hallway was lined with closed doors, each one a mystery, a secret waiting to be revealed. He reached the blue room, the paint chipped and the door slightly ajar. He pushed it open, and what he saw inside took his breath away.
Alice sat at the vanity, her hair piled high in a tight bun that made her look almost regal, her eyes closed as she applied a delicate layer of rouge to her cheeks. Mrs. Pearl, with her hair swept up in an elegant chignon, hummed softly to herself as she traced a line of kohl around her eyes, turning them into smoldering pools of desire. They both wore fluffy flannel bathrobes, the kind that were soft against the skin, hinting at the sensuality that lay beneath. The room was bathed in the soft glow of candles, their light flickering over the bottles and brushes scattered across the makeup table.
Micko’s heart hammered in his chest as he stepped into the room, his eyes taking in the scene before him. “Why aren’t you dressed?” he blurted out, his voice echoing in the quiet space. “The match is about to begin.”
Alice looked up, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. “Why bother?” she asked, her voice a soft purr. “We’re just going to end up naked anyway, aren’t we?”
Micko felt his cheeks flush, his eyes dropping to the floor. He had seen them naked before, countless times as they prepared for their matches, but there was something different about this moment. It felt ... intimate. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “I just want to make sure you’re ready,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Lady Magill’s got a lot riding on this.”
Alice turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, don’t you worry about us,” she said, winking. “We’ve got a little surprise for the crowds.”
Micko’s voice was filled with a mix of concern and curiosity as he addressed Alice and Mrs. Pearl. “So, what kind of training did you two do today?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual despite the tension in his gut.
Mrs. Pearl looked over at him with a sly smile. “Everything went smoothly,” she said, her voice like velvet. “We’ve been practicing our routine, making sure it’s just right for the big night.”
Micko nodded, his heart still racing. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two women.
Alice stood up, her bathrobe falling open slightly, revealing a hint of her toned stomach. “No, darling,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. “We’ve got it all under control.”
Micko nodded, his mind racing. He knew he had to trust them, had to believe that they knew what they were doing. After all, they had been through so much already. They had survived the brothels and the streets of Hootyville, and now they had a chance to make a real name for themselves, to be something more than just entertainment for the depraved.
He made his way back downstairs, his boots heavy on the worn steps. The main room of the Big Bite Saloon was already crowded, the air thick with the smell of tobacco and anticipation. Men leaned against the bar, their eyes glued to the pit, their whispers carrying like a dark current through the room.
As he approached Lady Magill, she turned to him with a knowing smile. “Is everything in order?” she asked, her voice a seductive purr.
Micko nodded, his throat dry. “They’re just finishing up,” he said, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. “They’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Lady Magill’s smile grew even wider, if that was possible. “Excellent,” she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “We’ve got quite the surprise for them.” She gestured to the corner of the saloon, where two figures sat, shrouded in shadow. “Mrs. Maria ‘Dusty’ Compton and Mrs. Eula ‘The Cheat’ Frost,” she announced, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “They’ve agreed to be our little showstoppers tonight.”
Micko’s eyes narrowed as he took in the two women. Dusty Compton was a legend in the fighting circuits, her reputation for dirty tricks and fierce determination had earned her the moniker. Eula Frost, on the other hand, was known for her swiftness and cunning, a woman who could outfox any opponent with ease. “What’s their story?” he asked, his voice low.
Lady Magill leaned in, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Dusty used to run the best wrestling show in the west,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. “But she had to leave town when she got on the wrong side of the law. As for Eula, she’s got a past as a card sharp, but she’s got a mean left hook that’s brought down more than one man who thought he could get fresh with her.”
Micko listened, his gaze still fixed on the two women in the shadows. “What’s with Mrs. Frost?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Lady Magill leaned back, her expression one of amusement. “Eula’s got quite the temper,” she said, her voice a smoky whisper. “Last week, she caught her neighbor trying to sneak a peek at her while she was bathing. He didn’t know she was in there, of course, but she didn’t take too kindly to it. Next thing you know, she’s beating him to a pulp with her bare hands. The poor man didn’t stand a chance.”
Micko nodded, his eyes still on the two women. They were a formidable pair, no doubt about it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. He turned to Lady Magill, his eyes searching hers. “Who’s the man sitting with them?” he asked, his voice low.
Lady Magill’s smile grew even more knowing. “Ah, that’s Billy Compton,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Mrs. Compton’s husband. Or at least, he used to be. They’ve had their fair share of troubles, but they’ve always had each other’s backs in the ring.”
Micko’s eyes widened as the implications of Lady Magill’s words sank in. If Dusty and Eula were going to be fighting in the pit tonight, then Alice and Mrs. Pearl would be going up against them. He felt a surge of protectiveness for the two women he had come to care for, despite their pasts.
Just as the crowd’s whispers grew to a fever pitch, the doors to the blue room swung open, and Alice and Mrs. Pearl emerged, their bathrobes fluttering around them like the wings of a pair of dark angels. They walked down the stairs with a confidence that Micko had never seen in them before, their eyes gleaming with excitement and a hint of danger.
Lady Magill clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the saloon. “Gentlemen!” she called out, her voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. “Prepare yourselves for a night you’ll never forget!” She gestured dramatically to the pit, her eyes alight with the fire of a thousand candles. “Tonight, we have a special treat for you all. Two of Hootyville’s finest, ready to show you what real women are made of!”
The crowd roared, their faces flushed with excitement. Micko felt his heart hammer in his chest as he watched Lady Magill sashay over to the pit, her hips swinging with each step. She climbed up onto the wooden stage, her skirts hiking up to reveal a pair of long, shapely legs. She leaned over the ropes, her breasts threatening to spill out of her corset. “Please welcome, Miss Alice ‘Money’ Stein and Mrs. Pearl ‘Bad’ Finley!” she announced, her voice a siren’s call. “Our very own angels of the night, ready to tussle for your entertainment!”
The crowd’s cheers grew deafening as Alice and Mrs. Pearl strutted to the pit, their bathrobes fluttering open to reveal their naked bodies. Micko’s eyes widened as they tossed their robes to him, their bare skin on full display. The women were stunning, their muscles taut and gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat. Alice’s breasts bounced with each step, her pink nipples tight with excitement. Mrs. Pearl’s curves were a testament to her years of experience, her belly soft and inviting.
Dusty and Eula emerged from the shadows, their eyes cold and hard as they sized up their opponents. Billy Compton watched from the side, his eyes never leaving Dusty’s face, a mix of anger and longing written across his features.
Lady Magill’s smile grew even more wicked as she introduced them. “And now, let’s not forget our esteemed challengers,” she purred, her voice like a whip crack in the tense air. “The infamous Mrs. Maria ‘Dusty’ Compton and Mrs. Eula ‘The Cheat’ Frost!”
The crowd’s roar grew even louder as Dusty and Eula strutted out from the shadows, their own night dress dropping to the floor. Their naked forms were a stark contrast to the softness of Alice and Mrs. Pearl’s, their muscles hard and defined from years of fighting and surviving. Dusty’s breasts were small but firm, her stomach a washboard of muscle. Eula’s body was lean and mean, her abs rippling as she moved.
Micko felt his breath catch in his throat as the four women stepped into the pit, their bodies a symphony of curves and power. The saloon’s air was electric, charged with the excitement of the impending match. The candlelight danced across their skin, casting flickering shadows that only served to highlight their forms.
Lady Magill’s smile grew wider as she climbed into the makeshift announcer’s booth, her voice ringing out like a bell. “Gentlemen!” she called, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Prepare yourselves for the main event! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! A battle of the beauties, a clash of the titans, a wrestling match that’ll have you on the edge of your seats and begging for more!”
The saloon went wild, a sea of hats thrown into the air, the sound of silver coins clinking against the floorboards as the men shouted their approval. Micko’s heart was racing as he watched Alice and Mrs. Pearl take their places opposite Dusty and Eula, their oiled bare skin glistening with sweat.
Lady Magill’s voice rang out, echoing through the rafters. “Ladies and gentlemen, hold onto your hats and your hearts! We’re about to witness a spectacle that’ll make you believe in the power of the female form!” She paused for dramatic effect, letting the anticipation build until it was almost palpable.
“Now, before we get down to business, I’m sure you all are just dying to place your bets on our lovely ladies!” She called out, her eyes gleaming with greed. “Let’s start the bidding! Who’s got the guts to bet on our homegrown talent against these seasoned brawlers?”
Miss Alice and Mrs. Pearl took the challenge in stride, turning to face the crowd with seductive smiles. They began to oil themselves up, their hands gliding over their breasts, their stomachs, their thighs, teasing the eager men with their touch. The crowd’s eyes followed the path of the oil, their mouths watering and their wallets opening. They knew how to play the game, to give the men a taste of what they were fighting for without giving too much away.
But as the women turned to face each other, their smiles faltered. The oil made their skin slippery and treacherous, and the thought of fighting bare-breasted and bare-assed in front of so many people made their stomachs churn. But they had come too far to back down now.
Lady Magill announced the rules. “No holds barred, no punches held, and no mercy given!” she shouted, her voice a crescendo above the din. “The first to submit, or to be thrown from the pit, loses!”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy of bets and cheers as the four women squared off, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Micko felt a knot form in his stomach, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He knew that Alice and Mrs. Pearl were strong, that they had been through hell and come out the other side, but Dusty and Eula were something else entirely. They were seasoned fighters, their bodies honed from years of battling in the dusty rings of the west.
Lady Magill strutted out of the pit, her eyes gleaming with greed as she surveyed the pile of coins and bills. She slammed the gate shut with a bang, the sound echoing through the saloon like a gunshot. The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. She climbed back up into the announcer’s booth, her skirts riding up to reveal the tops of her stockings. “Alright, ladies,” she purred, her voice like a lash. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
With a nod from Lady Magill, the frenzied music began to play. The four women in the pit, their bodies glistening with oil, circled each other warily. Miss Alice, her green eyes narrowed, stepped forward and faced Dusty. Mrs. Pearl, her chest heaving with anticipation, locked eyes with Eula, who smirked back, her teeth gleaming in the candlelight.
The match began with a flash of limbs, the sound of skin slapping against skin as the women grappled with each other. Alice’s breasts collided with Dusty’s, sending waves of oil across the pit. Mrs. Pearl’s thighs slammed into Eula’s, her hands grasping for purchase on the slick skin. The crowd roared, the smell of sweat and lust mingling with the scent of money and liquor.
Micko watched, his breath shallow and fast, as the women’s bodies moved in a blur of motion. The oil made it difficult to tell who was winning, their limbs slipping and sliding as they tried to pin each other down. It was a battle of strength and wits, each woman using every trick she had learned in the saloons and back alleys of the west. Alice’s legs wrapped around Dusty’s waist, pulling her in close, her breasts smashing into hers as she tried to overpower her with a bear hug. Mrs. Pearl and Eula were a whirlwind of limbs, their nails digging into each other’s skin as they fought for dominance.
Their struggles grew more intense, the pit a dance of writhing bodies and glistening skin. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, shouting encouragement and leering at the display before them. Micko felt his heart racing, his own desires warring with his fear for the women’s safety. He knew that this was a battle not just for their pride, but for the very soul of Hootyville.
The women’s grunts and gasps filled the air as they pushed and pulled, each trying to gain the upper hand. Dusty’s leg shot out, catching Alice off guard, and she tumbled to the ground. Eula took the opportunity to pounce, her body slamming into Mrs. Pearl’s with a wet smack. The impact sent them both skidding across the pit, their breasts bouncing with the force.
Micko’s anxiety grew as the match went on, his eyes flicking from one pair of wrestlers to the other. He could see the determination in Alice’s eyes as she climbed back to her feet, her muscles straining as she prepared to attack again. Mrs. Pearl, though winded, was equally determined, her face a mask of concentration as she waited for her chance to strike.
The crowd’s cheers grew to a crescendo as the fight continued, the air thick with the scent of victory and defeat. The Young Guns had faced down the town’s darkest secrets, and now they were fighting for its very essence. The naked oil wrestling match was more than just a spectacle; it was a battle between the old ways and the new, between the corrupt and the righteous.
And as the women grappled in the pit, their bodies slipping and sliding in the oil, Micko knew that the outcome would set the stage for the future of Hootyville. Whether it would continue to be a place of vice and depravity, or if it could be reborn into something better, something worth fighting for, was all up to them.
The crowd’s cheers grew louder, the tension in the air almost tangible. Miss Alice managed to flip Dusty onto her back, her breasts smacking against the ground with a wet sound. Mrs. Pearl had Eula in a headlock, her strong thighs wrapping around the other woman’s neck. The crowd was a sea of shouting faces, their eyes alight with excitement and hunger.
And then, in a sudden move that took everyone by surprise, Alice managed to wrap her legs around Dusty’s neck, squeezing until the other woman’s eyes bulged. Dusty’s hands flew to her throat, trying to break the hold, but it was too late. With a guttural growl, she tapped out, her body going limp.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy of applause and cheers as Miss Alice’s victory over Mrs. Compton sent shockwaves through the saloon. Mrs. Pearl, inspired by her friend’s triumph, turned her full attention to Eula, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination. The air was thick with tension as the two remaining combatants began to circle each other, their bodies glistening with oil, every curve and contour highlighted by the flickering candlelight.
Mrs. Pearl, a force of nature in her own right, lunged at Eula with a fiery passion that belied her motherly exterior. Their bodies collided with a sound like wet leather on stone, their breasts smacking together and sending ripples of excitement through the crowd. They rolled across the pit, each trying to gain the upper hand, their limbs a tangle of sinew and sweat-slicked skin. The men’s eyes were glued to the spectacle, their own hands moving to adjust their growing arousal.
Micko watched, his heart in his throat, as Mrs. Pearl managed to straddle Eula, her hands pressing into the other woman’s shoulders. Eula, though skilled and cunning, was no match for the sheer power of Mrs. Pearl’s conviction. She bucked and writhed beneath her opponent, her eyes flashing with rage and desperation. The crowd roared, their bets forgotten in the heat of the moment.
The crowd’s cheers grew wilder, the frenetic tempo matching the rhythm of the wrestlers’ bodies. Mrs. Pearl leaned down, her breasts hanging tantalizingly close to Eula’s face, and whispered something into her ear. Eula’s eyes went wide, and then she was laughing, a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to come from her very soul. She tapped out, and the crowd erupted into applause. The match was over, and the Young Guns had won a victory for Hootyville’s moral compass.
Micko felt a weight lift from his shoulders as the women climbed out of the pit, their bodies still gleaming with oil. Miss Alice and Mrs. Pearl hugged each other, their naked forms a symbol of their triumph over the town’s corruption. The crowd showered them with coins and praise, their cheers echoing through the saloon like a battle cry.
Lady Magill, her smile forced, stepped forward to congratulate the winners, her eyes flicking to the pile of coins that had grown significantly during the match. “Well done, my dears,” she cooed, her voice dripping with insincerity. “You’ve certainly given the good folks of Hootyville a show to remember.”
Micko handed each of them their bathrobes, his eyes never leaving theirs. As they slipped into the soft fabric, he could see the relief wash over them, the tension of the fight dissipating like mist in the morning sun. He stepped closer, wrapping them in a warm embrace one by one, feeling the warmth of their oily skin against his own. It was a silent promise, a pact between friends who had seen too much and fought too hard.
“Thank you, Micko,” Alice whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, the kiss warm and lingering. Mrs. Pearl followed suit, her kiss landing on his other cheek, her eyes filled with a gratitude that spoke volumes.
Micko felt a mix of emotions—pride, relief, and a strange, unsettling excitement that he couldn’t quite place. He looked around the saloon, the crowd slowly dispersing, the floor littered with the detritus of their passionate betting. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and the acrid tang of fear and desire.
Mickey’s gaze fell on Bill Compton, who sat at the bar, his eyes burning with a hatred so intense it was almost palpable. The man’s gaze was fixed on Alice and Mrs. Pearl, his knuckles white as he gripped his whiskey glass. Micko had noticed the tension between Bill and Dusty earlier, but he hadn’t realized the depth of it until now. The sight of his wife, bruised and beaten, and lost out, was too much for the man to bear.
Mrs. Pearl followed Micko’s gaze, her own expression a mix of pity and defiance. “Don’t worry about him,” she murmured, patting Micko’s arm. “He’s just a sore loser.”
Micko nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. He knew that the man was dangerous, that he had a temper that could flare up faster than a greased pistol. But he also knew that he couldn’t let that fear control him. He had to be smart, had to keep his wits about him.
In the blue room, on the small table in the center of the room, a pile of money lay, the spoils of their victory. The sight of it made Micko’s head swim; it was more than he had ever seen in his life.
Miss Alice looked at the money with wide eyes, her hand shaking as she reached out to touch it. “We did it,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “We really did it.”
Mrs. Pearl let out a low whistle, her own eyes wide with disbelief. “Look at that pile,” she said, her voice a mix of amazement and disgust. “We’ve earned more in one night than we ever did at The Red Velvet.”
Micko nodded solemnly. “You both deserve it,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “You amazed everyone out there. You showed them that you’re more than just ... than what they thought you were.”
Alice looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. “What do we do now?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Mrs. Pearl took charge, wrapping her arm around Alice’s waist. “Now, darling, we celebrate. We’ve come too far to let this victory go to waste.” She turned to Micko, her face lighting up with a mischievous smile. “What do you say, Micko? Are you in for a little party?”
Confused but willing to follow their lead, Micko nodded. “Sure,” he said, his voice tentative. “What do you have in mind?”
The two women shared a knowing look before they turned and sashayed towards the open bathroom, their oily naked bodies swaying with the grace of gazelles. Micko felt his mouth go dry as he watched them go, his thoughts racing. What kind of party were they planning? What did they expect of him? He took a deep breath and tried to push his anxieties aside, focusing instead on the warmth of the room and the softness of the bed beneath him.
In the bathroom, Alice and Mrs. Pearl stepped into the large, steaming tub, the warm water lapping at their legs as they sank in. They grabbed the bars of soap and began to scrub the oil from their bodies, their hands gliding over each other’s skin in a sensual dance. The soap bubbles popped and slid away, revealing their fresh, clean flesh beneath. The scent of lavender filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of their sweat and the musky scent of the oil.
Micko, his eyes glued to the doorway, felt his cheeks flush. His hand had drifted down to his crotch, where his penis was swelling in his pants, straining against the fabric. He was acutely aware of the heat radiating from his groin, the blood pulsing in his veins as he watched his friends clean themselves. The sight of their naked forms, their curves and contours so close and yet so untouchable, was driving him wild with desire.
He tried to look away, to focus on anything else in the room, but his eyes kept darting back to the steamy bathroom. The sound of their laughter and the splash of water only served to heighten his arousal. The excitement of the fight, the electricity in the air, had ignited a fire in his loins that threatened to consume him.
Miss Alice must have noticed his discomfort because she stepped out of the bathroom, her body glistening with water, a towel wrapped around her torso. She walked over to him with a grace that seemed almost predatory, her eyes never leaving his. Mrs. Pearl followed suit, her own towel barely covering her voluptuous figure.
“Micko,” Alice began, her voice sultry and inviting, “You’ve helped us so much. And we want to thank you, to show you what we do best.” She reached out and took his hand, leading him to lie on the bed, her touch electric.
Mrs. Pearl followed, her hips swaying as she walked, the towel threatening to fall away with every step. “You’ve seen us fight, now it’s time to see us ... entertain.” She winked at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Micko’s heart raced as Alice knelt beside the bed, her hands moving to his pants. With a slow, deliberate motion, she unzipped him, his erection springing free, standing tall and proud. The sight of it made her smile grow wider, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
But it was Mrs. Pearl who claimed him first, straddling him and pressing her oily body against his. Her breasts smashed against his chest, and her kiss was fierce, her tongue probing his mouth with a hunger that stole his breath away. She tasted of sweat and victory, a heady combination that had him groaning into her mouth. Her hands roamed his body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.
And then Alice was there, her soft mouth closing around his cock, her lips sliding down his length with a practiced ease that had him bucking his hips. He could feel her tongue dancing around the head, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had him writhing beneath the two women.
Mrs. Pearl leaned over him, her large breasts hanging in the air, begging for his attention. He couldn’t help but reach out, his hands cupping the heavy mounds. They felt so warm and soft, and he found himself drawn to her nipples, the dark tips standing proud and erect.
“Micko,” Mrs. Pearl whispered, her voice a sultry purr, “Show me how much you appreciate us.” She guided his head down, her hand cradling the back of his neck. He didn’t resist; instead, he eagerly took her nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. He heard her gasp, felt her body tense as he sucked and bit down gently.
Alice, not to be outdone, took him in deeper, her cheeks hollowing out as she worked his length with a fervor that surprised even him. Her eyes looked up at him, full of fire and passion, as if challenging him to hold on. Micko’s world narrowed to the feeling of Mrs. Pearl’s flesh in his mouth and Alice’s warm, wet embrace around his cock.
Mrs. Pearl’s hand tangled in his hair, pulling gently as she urged him closer, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. And then, as if the pleasure was too much, she whispered something in his ear, something that made his teeth clench around her nipple. He bit down hard, the sound muffled by her breast, and she let out a low moan that sent shivers down his spine.
Her hips began to rock, grinding against his face, her wetness coating his cheeks as she sought her own release. Alice took this as a cue, her pace quickening as she swallowed him down, her hand reaching up to cup Mrs. Pearl’s ass, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. The three of them moved together, a symphony of pleasure and desire that seemed to shake the very foundations of the saloon.
mrs pearl then stradling micko on her knee, take her pussy closer to micko face and alice behind her opened mrs pearl tight pussy.