Logan O'Dell Rides
Copyright© 2026 by Writer Mick
Chapter 18
Western Sex Story: Chapter 18 - Logan O'Dell was cut loose at a young age in the late 1880's. This is a portion of his story
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Western Cream Pie First Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Prostitution
I guess I should have expected it but Melinda had me completely distracted. She’d just gotten out of bed to make a trip to the privy and I was lying there being amazed at what life had placed in my care. I was thinking about the horses back at the Square T that were carrying Whistles foals and how many we could hold here when I heard Melinda scream my name.
“LOGAN!”
I jumped out of bed and took the stairs in a couple of jumps. I went right to my gun belt and picked up the Colt with one hand and grabbed the Henry with the other. I ran out the back door, still naked, and came to a halt when I saw the three Kiowa from yesterday and White Bird.
Melinda was trying to cover her nakedness, which she didn’t try to do yesterday. I can only think that the presence of White Bird made the situation somehow different. I ran out to her and told her to go to the house. She eagerly agreed and took off running, her flopping teats drawing the attention of the four young men. I turned to White Bird and smiled.
“Melinda is my woman and we did not know you were coming.”
“She is a mighty woman,” he said using his hands to gesture that she had large breasts.
“That she is,” I said with a smile. “What are you doing here this morning?”
“Your stallion came to our camp and three of our horses returned with him.”
“Yes, this is true. These three came yesterday and I did not know what they wanted. I do not speak Kiowa.”
“They understand and that is why they asked me to come with them. They want their horses back.”
“I understand. Let me ask you this. I don’t know which of the mares belongs to which of these men. There is one horse that I would want to keep. Actually, my stallion would want to keep it. Let’s go to the barn and I’ll show you which one. Then we can talk about the price for me to buy it.”
White Bird looked down at my cock and then back at me.
“My people say that you wore no clothes yesterday. Is this what you do?”
“No, White Bird. Melinda and I just mated. We were in bed and she needed to use the privy,” I pointed to the outhouse. “She came out here and saw you riding up and called for me, and here I am. I would like to get dressed if you don’t mind.”
“Go. We will wait.”
I turned and walked into the house. As I got to the staircase, I met a dressed Melinda on her way down. I gave her the Henry and asked her to make coffee. She turned towards the kitchen and I ran up the stairs. It only took a few minutes to slip on pants and a shirt. I pushed my feet into my boots and headed downstairs. I went to the rack by the front door and took down my gun belt.
I slid the Colt into the holster and wrapped the belt around my waist. After tying the holster down to my leg, I walked out the back door, calling into the kitchen.
“Melinda, I’m going outside to trade for or buy one of the mares. Let me know when the coffee is ready.”
“Alright, lover. If it helps you can trade with my dun gelding, I’d like to have a pony like yours.”
“I’m not sure there are many more crazy animals like him,” I replied as I took off for the barn in a trot. White Bird had opened the gate on the far side of the corral and the four had come into the corral and stood on their horses waiting at the barn door. I went into the barn and unlatched the door from inside, opening it for the Kiowas. The four dismounted and leaving their ponies in the corral, they walked into the barn.
“White Bird, would you please ask your men to go stand by their horse.”
He nodded and spoke and the three braves each walked to a stall. Whistle was not acting happy and I tried to calm him with soft words and some strokes of his neck but, I had to walk him out of his stall and out into the corral. He at once began to strut in a display of dominance over the indians three ponies.
“White Bird, I would like to keep that pony,” I said as I pointed to the mare that I’d given the parched corn to. “Would your brave sell it?”
White Bird spoke to the Kiowa in question and at first he seemed dead set against any deal. I looked at the dun gelding. It was a larger, stronger horse than the pony. But I had a feeling that the mare was going to be a good match for Whistle.
“Logan, he says he will not sell but would trade for your rifle.”
“Nope. Can’t do that.” I looked around the barn and quickly decided the horse was the best thing to trade.
“White Bird, I will keep that horse and he can keep the dun. It is fast and strong. Will he trade me his pony for the dun?”
The two talked back and forth for a bit, at one point getting a little animated. Then White Bird looked at me and said, “He will trade horses but he also wants your woman.”
I quickly drew my gun and pointed it at his head.
“That is my wife! I should kill you for the insult. Or I should have Melinda do it.”
The brave spoke boldly and louder showing his bravery or fear.
“Logan, this one challenges you to fight for the horse and the woman. But he says that he doesn’t have a gun and if you fight him with a gun when he has none, you are a coward.”
“I will fight him with lances.”
“Logan, he is very good with a lance.”
“We’ll see. If I win, I get his pony.”
“Logan if you win he will be dead. If he wins you will be dead.”
Well, that was that. I was in a fight to the death for a horse and Melinda. If she finds out, she’ll kill me! I looked at White Bird and the brave and nodded. The brave went out to his pony to retrieve his lance. I looked at White Bird and said, “My lance is at another ranch. I need a lance.”
“Take his,” White Bird said pointing to the Kiowa I was going to fight.
Great, I was fighting with lances but I have to take his lance from him. I walked out into the corral and called to Whistle. I brought him back into the barn and put him in his stall. I worried that as I fought, he might join in and start a ruckus. After putting the stallion in his stall, I walked back out to the corral.
The Kiowa had his lance in hand and stood there waiting for me. White Bird spoke to the brave and he laughed and his eyes got big as saucers when he found his opponent was unarmed. He moved towards me; lance pointed at me. As he got closer he jabbed out with the lance. I dodged out of the way but I could tell he was playing with me. That was not going to be his best move.
The other two braves got up on the fence rails and began to yell and bark as their partner circled looking for an opening. The brave lunged with the lance and swung the lance. He hit me with the butt end of the lance and that was worse than getting kicked. But it wasn’t the pointy end so I kept moving. When he would lunge I would shift to one side or the other, then move in and hit him in the face or the body. The body hits seemed to affect him the most.
The noise brought Melinda out of the house and when she saw what was happening she took up the Henry and was about to shoot the man I was fighting. I was pretty sure that even with the two of us fighting in a clutch, Melinda could put a bullet into him. But I also knew that if I beat him it would raise my status among the Kiowa. I would have killed two of them while being unarmed both times.
Breaking our clench, I yelled to her. “Melinda! NO! I have to take him.”
She stood in the doorway, rifle in hand. Then she came down the stairs and walked, calmly, to the corral. The other braves saw the rifle was pointed to the ground. She took a place atop the corral fence and began to encourage me. What more could a man want than to have his woman cheering him on while he was in a fight for his life and hers? Even though she didn’t know her life was in play as well.
The brave spun and swung the lance around his head before aiming a well-timed lunge at me. I jumped up and back to avoid the sharp point aimed at my groin. But that move left him off balance and I was able to hit him in the face with a hard left while grabbing the lance with my right hand and forcing the point into the ground as he fell forward.
Now we both had our hands on the lance and we wrestled with the lance between us. He had both hands on the lance trying to use his power to rip it away from me. I wanted to keep control of the pointy end so I knew where it was going. Suddenly he seemed to trip and fall backwards. I took advantage and jumped for him but he lifted his feet and placed them in my stomach causing me to flip over him as he fell.
I landed in the dirt with a hard thump, losing some air. I felt woozy but not so much that I wasn’t able to fend of the lunge he’d tried as I staggered to my feet. He stabbed the lance at me and this time instead of jumping back out of range, I spun around, grabbing the shaft of the lance. The force of his lunge and my spin gave me enough force to be able to yank the lance out of his hands. I continued the spin as I raised the lance overhead bringing the shaft down on his head like a club.
He staggered, clearly dazed. I hit him over the head again before taking the shaft in both hands and butted him in the face with the shaft. It knocked him down and I jumped to stand over him with the sharp lance tip at his throat. I pressed the point into his throat enough to break the skin and start a flow of blood. I looked at White Bird and yelled out.
“White Bird! It is not my way to kill brave men. I do not want to kill him. I honor his ability. Do I have to kill him?”
White Bird called out to my opponent and the man’s answer was both angry and defiant.
“Logan, he says that if you let him live, he will kill you and take your woman. He does not think you will kill him.”
I looked the man in the eyes and saw his expression was one of complete defiance, then I drove the lance into the man’s neck. His expression instantly changed from one of self-assured defiance to one of excruciating pain. I twisted the lance causing the point to rip open the large blood veins in his neck. Blood sprayed into the air and the man kicked his legs once, gurgled a few sounds, and died.
His fellow braves went silent. I pulled the lance out of his throat and threw it towards the house. I turned to White Bird and said, “This was wrong! He should have never died. Why did he have to fight? All I wanted was to buy his horse. Was the horse really worth his life?”
The two Kiowa didn’t understand a word I said. White Bird did, and he said something to them. They both shook their heads. They got down from the fence railings and walked to their horses. White Bird turned to me and said, “All the horses are yours to keep.”
“But I only wanted to keep the one.”
“I told them that they would have to fight you to get their ponies back. They are afraid of you. You are a mighty warrior. You have the horse of Mountain Fighter and he was mighty. Now you have the horse of Running Elk and he was a mighty warrior. You are not like other white men, Logan. I will tell Lone Wolf what happened.”
“White Bird, if Running Elk had a woman and needs a horse I will give her the dun.”
“He had no woman. The one he had died of fever, so did his son.”
“Then let Lone Wolf know that he and his people are always welcome here if they come in peace. If they need shelter during the winter storms they can come here. My home will be safe for all who live in peace.”
“I will tell him,” White Bird said.
He then ordered the two braves to collect the body of Running Elk and tie him to his horses back. The three men rode off slowly and I stood and watched until they’d gone over the rise and were out of sight. I returned to the house and picked up the lance before I went inside. Melinda was now standing just inside the door, still holding the Henry.
“What was that all about?”
“I offered to buy his horse or trade it for the dun. His counter offer was to take the dun and fuck you.”
She looked at me and got real serious.
“I would have killed him if he tried.”
“That’s what I told White Bird and what he told the Kiowa. The Kiowa challenged me to a fight for the horse and you. He didn’t like me having a gun so I challenged him with the lance. He agreed and then I found out that I couldn’t use one of the other men’s lances. If I wanted to use a lance I had to take his.”
“Oh my.”
“Yeah. So, we fought for you and I won. I offered to give his woman the dun but his woman died of fever, so did his son. I guess he was not in a good mood.”
“So, what was the outcome of the whole thing?”
“Running Elk, that was his name, is dead. The other braves gave me their ponies as a tribute to me being a mighty warrior. I keep all three horses and you keep the dun. I told White Bird that if the Kiowa came in peace I would welcome them here. If we get a blizzard, we might have a barn full of Kiowa.”
“I can live with that if you can and if they are friendly.”
“Let’s clean up the house a little more before we head back to town.”
“Why are we going to town?” Melinda asked hopeful of a quiet night together.
“Because I’m the Sheriff and you’re running the Sportin’ Club. We, my love, have obligations.”
“Your love?”
“Yeah, I guess if I’m going to put my life and your body on the line, I must love you. I think I’ve learned that.”
Melinda wiped her eyes and gently kissed me on the lips.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I’ve been hoping you’d say that someday. I love you too, Logan O’Dell.”
“Let’s get some work done before we head out. I think when we get back to town I’ll need to get a buckboard. Maybe we should bring two of the ponies back with us to pull the buckboard.”
“Good idea. On the way back, I’ll work on a list of things we’ll need. Most of what we need seems to be cleaning materials and food. All of the pots and pans and knives, forks, and spoons are in good shape. The furniture is all solid. Sheets, blankets, towels and maybe clothes.”
“Maybe clothes?”
“Well, if we don’t have visitors.”
“And how do we know when the Kiowa will come riding up? They see any more of you running around with your breast flying all over the place we might start a war for possession of you. Kinda like that woman from the old Greek stories.”
“Let’s get some things done. Come on.”
I followed her and we started cleaning windows and taking down curtains so we could see if they needed to be washed or replaced. Same with the sheets on the other beds in the house. There was an old clock on the fireplace mantel. I looked it over and found the winding key inside. I wound the clock and right now, it was telling me that it was time to head back to town.
“Come on Melinda. Let’s get back to town.”
We gathered what we needed to take back with us and set it all on the front porch. We went to the barn and I got Whistle saddled. Melinda saddled the dun and then we put hackamores on the three Kiowa ponies. There were a couple of packs that we fit to the ponies. The items we were taking back were loaded onto the packs. The ponies didn’t seem to mind.
We didn’t feel that we could just leave one horse at the ranch so we rigged the third pony up to follow the pack horses. Melinda was thinking that she could saddle and ride the one pony that I’d wanted to buy, but it didn’t take to the saddle.