Ben Owen
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 11
Western Sex Story: Chapter 11 - Ben Owen, a quiet drifter with a haunted past, finds himself entangled in a frontier town divided by greed, vengeance, and lawlessness. When a ruthless land baron threatens everything he values, Ben must choose between walking away or taking a stand. In a world where justice is scarce and loyalty comes at a price, his fight for redemption may cost him everything.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual NonConsensual Romantic Slavery Lesbian Fiction Crime Rags To Riches Western Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Anal Sex Violence AI Generated
That night, as the moon painted the town in shades of silver and black, the doors of ‘The Blossom’ swung open to a flood of guests. The air was thick with the scent of cigars and whiskey, the low murmur of hushed conversations and the jingle of spurs. Goldie descended the stairs, her night dress replaced by a seductive corset and a short skirt that barely contained her curves. She looked every inch the part of a brothel madam, her eyes gleaming with a fierce determination that belied the softness of her smile.
The first guest she approached was a burly man with a greasy mustache and a belt that groaned with the weight of his pistols. His eyes widened at the sight of her, his leer one of hungry anticipation. “Evening, handsome,” she purred, her voice a siren’s song that could lure a saint to sin. “What can I do for you?”
The man’s grin grew as he took in her voluptuous figure, his eyes lingering on the swell of her breasts that threatened to spill out of her corset. “I’ve heard the whispers,” he said, his voice a gruff rumble. “I’ve got a taste for something ... special.”
Goldie’s smile grew more alluring, her eyes never leaving his. “Oh, I think we can accommodate that,” she murmured, her voice a velvety promise. She looped her arm through his, leading him up the stairs to one of the private rooms. “But remember,” she whispered in his ear, her breath warm against his neck, “discretion is key.”
Once in the room, she shut the door, the sound echoing through the hallway. She turned to face him, her hands sliding up to untie the strings of her corset. The man’s eyes grew wide, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched her reveal her ample breasts, the pale moonlight spilling in from the window bathing her in an ethereal glow. She stepped closer, her hand reaching for his belt. “Now, tell me,” she purred, her eyes never leaving his, “what do you truly crave?”
The man’s grin grew feral, his voice a low growl. “Your tight little ass, madam” he said, his hand reaching out to squeeze her buttock. “I want to claim it, make it mine.”
Goldie’s smile never faltered, her eyes still locked on his. “Ah, an ass man,” she said, her voice a purr. “Sure. But remember, I’m a married woman now. And my Ben,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper, “he’s a jealous type.”
The burly man’s grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “All the better,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I like a challenge.”
Goldie’s smile grew more seductive as she stepped closer, her hand brushing against the bulge in his pants. “Then let’s not disappoint, shall we?” she whispered, her voice a siren’s call. She reached up, her hands deftly unbuckling his belt, her eyes never leaving his.
He watched, his breath coming in short gasps, as she sank to her knees before him. The sight of her, so powerful and yet so willing to submit to his desires, was almost too much to bear. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing with anticipation. Goldie leaned in, her eyes never leaving his, and took him in her mouth. Her lips were soft, her tongue a warm caress as she began to suck him off with a skill that spoke of years of experience.
Her cheeks hollowed as she took him deeper, her hand cupping his balls, her other hand stroking the base of his shaft. The man groaned, his hips bucking as she worked him with a fervor that seemed to belie her earlier protestations. Goldie’s eyes remained locked on his, a silent challenge in their depths as she sucked him harder, her mouth a wet, warm cavern of pleasure.
He grew thicker, longer in her mouth, his breath coming in harsh pants as he felt the beginnings of his climax build within him. But Goldie was a master of her craft, and she knew just when to pull back, teasing him with gentle licks and nibbles that kept him on the edge without letting him fall over. She knew that the longer she could keep him there, the more information he would be willing to spill.
Her hand pumped his cock in time with her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head in a dance that had him cursing and begging for more. Her eyes never left his, a silent promise of the pleasure she could give, and the price he would pay for it. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hand tangling in her hair as he thrust deeper, lost in the sensation of her mouth on him.
Goldie took him deep, her throat working around his shaft as she moaned softly, the vibrations sending shudders of pleasure through his body. His grip on her hair tightened, his hips jerking as he neared the precipice. But she was relentless, her mouth a tight, wet fist that milked him for every ounce of his desire.
As she felt him swell even further, she pulled away, her hand stroking him slowly, her mouth hovering just out of reach. “Tell me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his sensitive skin, “who do you work for?”
The man’s eyes snapped open, his mind momentarily clearing of the lust-filled haze. “What?” he gasped, his voice strangled.
Goldie’s smile grew sharper, the playfulness gone. “You heard me,” she said, her voice firm. “Tell me who you work for, and maybe I’ll let you finish.”
He stared at her, his eyes wide with a mix of lust and fear. “The ... the sheriff,” he managed to croak out, his voice hoarse from his earlier moans.
Her smile grew, the predatory glint in her eyes unmistakable. “Good boy,” she murmured, her hand still stroking him with a feather-light touch that had him trembling. “Now, tell me what you know about the next shipment of ... goods.”
The man’s eyes grew even wider, and he swallowed hard. “Tomorrow morning, they leave at this time,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “They’re bringing in a new ... a new group of women.”
Goldie’s expression never changed, her hand still working him with a steady rhythm. “Where from?” she asked, her voice still a seductive purr.
“The ... the train,” he gasped, his body tight with need. “They’re coming in on the train.”
Her eyes narrowed, her grip tightening slightly. “How many?”
“Three,” he choked out, his body straining towards release. “Three women.”
With a nod, Goldie leaned back in, her mouth engulfing him once more. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding back, and she knew she had him. Her tongue danced around the head of his cock, her teeth scraping lightly as she listened to the rest of his confession.
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