Logan O'Dell Rides
Copyright© 2026 by Writer Mick
Chapter 24
Western Sex Story: Chapter 24 - 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 wasn’t quite asleep and neither was Melinda. She was lying on top of me, my cock still inside her. It felt like her pussy was holding onto my cock for dear life. I swear that the more we made love the more my cock wanted to just stay inside her. After our elk stew dinner, we slowly walked up the stairs to her room and slowly undressed. Our lovemaking was slow and, to me at least, felt that it brought us closer than ever.
We probably would have stayed where we were had it not been for the sounds of men celebrating getting louder outside Melinda’s room. She turned her head from where she rested it on my shoulder and kissed me. The kiss was soft, yet passionate. We separated from the kiss and got out of bed. Slowly.
We dressed. The last thing I put on was my gun belt. I adjusted the way the belt sat on my hips and we walked downstairs. The place was lively with about eight cowboys being entertained by women. Elsie was talking with a man at the bar and as Melinda and I walked into the bar room she waved and said, “Hi Sheriff!” loud enough so every cowboy in the room heard her.
I waved back and smiled to her and everyone in the room. They all gave me a look and I saw no one thinking of challenging the sheriff. That made me feel better. Melinda gave me a hug and headed for the side of the bar and her office. I walked out the front door and turned towards the saloon. There was more noise coming from the saloon than there’d been in the past few days.
I pushed open the bat-wing doors and stepping inside. There must have been two cattle drives in town because there was another dozen cowboys in the saloon. Most were drinking and playing poker or faro and had bar girls hanging around them. These were the girls that didn’t work at the Sportin’ Club for any number of reasons.
Most were not as pretty. Some were not as clean looking or smelling. But a man who’s spent a few weeks downwind from a herd of cows couldn’t tell a good smelling girl from a bad one. I went to the bar and asked for a beer. I pushed my black, flat-brimmed, hat back a little on my head and looked back and forth around the room.
The night was young and no one looked to be drinking too much or having an argument over a girl. As I looked over the room a cowboy got up from a poker table and walked to the corner of the room and took out his cock and started to piss on a pile of saw dust on the floor.
I looked at the bartender and asked as I pointed to the cowboy, “Is that normal?”
“Yeah, Sheriff. It seems to be too much work to walk out the back door and piss in the grass. I guess when you’re on a drive you get used to pissing where ever and when ever.”
“Would you mind if I asked the cowboys to take it outside?”
“Nope, just watch out for the feisty ones.”
I caught up with the cowboy as he returned to the table and stood next to him. I said nothing for a few seconds and when the action at the table paused I spoke up.
“Good evening men. I’m Logan O’Dell the Sheriff. I noticed that this here fella just got up and took a piss in the corner of the room and I’d like to ask you to please do that outside the back door. We’re trying to make our little town a bit more civilized.”
The cowboy who had taken the piss looked up at me and said, “I didn’t want to be away from my cards that long.”
“Are you worried that one of these fine men would look at your hand? If so let me know and I’ll address the problem.”
“Why don’t you just leave us alone? We want to drink and play poker and maybe get fucked.”
“And I have no problems with any of that. I’m just asking that you take your pissing and shitting outside the back door. It’s just a matter of good manners.”
“The hell with that! Now go away so we can get back to our game.”
“There’s no reason to get your back up...”
“I said get away from us!” the man who took the piss quickly stood with his legs straddling his chair and pushed out his chest and stared me in the eyes.
He was off balance and a bit wobbly so I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down in the chair. I checked to see if any of the others at the table were going to come to his defense. None stood so I addressed him only.
“Mister, you don’t want to spend tonight in jail for taking a piss inside the saloon and you don’t want to take this situation any further. I’m sure the Doc doesn’t want to deal with anyone on the first night you fellas are in town. Just try and be a little more polite when indoors. OK?”
“God dammit!” the cowboy said and tried to stand again.
As he stood, he tried to turn towards me but with the chair between his legs he wasn’t balanced. So, I pushed him sideways and he tumbled around the chair and fell, twisted, onto the floor covered in saw dust where others had spit, pissed, and worse. He lay sprawled for a moment before trying to get to his feet and wiping off his face and shirt front.
As soon as he had his eyes wiped clear and his feet under him, he went for his gun but before the pistol cleared the holster, he was looking into the barrel of my Colt a matter of inches from his face.
“And, you don’t want to get shot for taking a piss. Now calm down, have a drink, go back to your game, and use the back door if you need to take another piss.”
The cowboys crossed eyes moved from the barrel of my Colt to my eyes. What he saw in my eyes told him the seriousness of his situation. He slowly let his pistol drop back into its holster and bent to pick up his hat and right the tipped over chair. Setting it upright, he took his seat, put his hat on, and turned to the other players.
“Thank you, sir for your courtesy. I wish you good luck with your game,” I said to him before raising my voice announcing to the rest of the men and women in the saloon. “One of the coming civic improvements is going to be the building of a privy behind the jail. After its done I think we’ll build one out back of here. Until then please go out the back door to do any business you have.”
I turned and walked back to the bar and my newly filled beer. I looked from the new beer to the bartender and he smiled and nodded.
“That was as slick a play as I’ve ever seen, Sheriff. If it always goes like that life around here should be very different.”
“Well I don’t think the odds are in my favor but I hope so as well. Thank you for the fresh, cold beer.”
“My pleasure.”
I leaned on the bar and the bartender went back to wiping down the bar top and the various glasses on the shelves behind him. The general sound in the saloon gradually got louder after it going away during my incident with the cowboy. The bar girls were laughing loudly and I noticed a man walk from behind the bar and sit at a piano in the corner.
The man began to play some happy tune and a few of the women began to dance around towards the side of the room, in front of the stairs that went up to the rooms the women used with their customers. Some of the cowboys tapped their feet to the music and pretty soon a couple got up and began to dance with the women.
At the end of the second song a pair of the dancers took off for the stairs. More men walked into the saloon and I recognized them as locals. They approached the bar and smiled as they nodded in recognition of me. They ordered drinks and went to sit at a table just in time for some women to join them.
A conversation began and soon the men turned their heads and looked at me and the cowboy I’d corrected. I guessed that the women had told the men about the action of the night. I hoped that they’d passed on the request to use the back door.
I’d slowly finished my beer and set the mug down on the bar top. Looking around the saloon again, I walked over to the table where the cowboy I’d dealt with was playing poker. I leaned over next to him.
“Are you winning?”
“I’m sorta even, Sheriff.”
“Would you be insulted if I brought you a drink? You know just to show that there’s no hard feelings.”
“Sure, I never turn down a free drink.”
I looked over at the bar keep and called out, “This man’s next drink is on me, OK?”
The bartender waved and nodded as I left by the bat-wing doors. Out on the boardwalk the town was still awake. The sun was still out and was casting a golden color to the clouds to the West. I turned to the right, away from the Sportin’ Club, and headed down the boardwalk with the idea that I’d take a walk around to get familiar with the town.
Just past the saloon was a tailor shop that had a sign that they also made dresses. Next, I passed a store front that was apparently a lawyer and then another that was an accountant. Stepping down from the boardwalk I was in front of the livery but before that was a shop that made and sold tack and saddles. I made a note in my head to get a fancier hackamore for Whistle.
Walking a little further down I walked into the livery to find Whistle in a stall, with his head down and standing on three feet. I considered waking him up just to aggravate him but decided against it. The devious animal would probably find a way to get back at me. I made another mental note to get some small apples for him. As I walked out of the livery a young boy came running from around the corner and up to me.
“Hi Sheriff, did you need something here?”
“No, I was just taking a walk around town and this was one of the stops. Things seem to be nice and quiet.”
“Yup. The lamplighters should begin their rounds soon too. Hey, Sheriff? What’s the story with your stallion? He’ll seem to be calm and relaxed at one time but I’ll look up a few minutes later and he will have undone the rope across his stall and backed out to take a look around.”
“Yeah, I took him off a Kiowa I killed and I think in his mind that means I adopted him,” I thought for a second. “Or maybe he adopted me.”
That made the both of us laugh, quietly. The last thing I wanted was to walk around the town with Whistle keeping an eye on me. I left the livery and crossed the street. I stopped to turn and look back towards the undertakers shop off behind the livery. It was dark and if I didn’t know where it was I would not have been able to pick out the outline of it against the trees behind it.
Across the street I stepped up on the boardwalk and walked past a barbershop I hadn’t noticed before. It occurred to me that I hadn’t taken care of my facial hair in a few days. I didn’t have a very full amount of facial hair but what I had was shaggy and the thick black hair on my head was down to my shoulders. I bet that Melinda was just waiting for me to notice so she could take care of it for me.
The next shop was dark and I couldn’t tell what it was. Just then the two lamp lighters came around to light the lanterns placed on poles around the street.
“Good evening, Sheriff”
“Good evening. Say, I’m walking around town to get the lay of the land and I was wondering what was in this building?”
“Oh, that’s the cattle buyers office. The foremen of the cattle drives comes in here to give their head count and get it verified so they can get paid. He doesn’t do any work after dinner time so he hasn’t got any lights inside.”
“Thank you. It seems like it’s going to be a quiet night.”
“Well the cowboys haven’t been drinking very long. After a while the fights over the women will start. But that won’t happen for another hour to hour and a half yet.”
“You seem to have a pretty good handle on things around here after dark.”
“Well Mrs. Shell always tells us that nothing good happens in town after dark. Before that people might do something wrong but then they will also have witnesses.”
“Well, keep safe. I’m gonna keep walking around.”
“Will do, Sheriff. By the way, where’s your horse? He’s usually wandering around town.”
“Really? He’s asleep in the livery.”
“He’s an interesting animal.”
“Interesting? Yeah, I guess that’s one word for the critter. Good night.”
“Good night, Sheriff.”
I took another look into the cattle buyers store front and then turned to walk in front of the jail. I checked the front door and found it was still locked. I thought I should leave it unlocked since the Bolts were all dead and I didn’t know of anyone who would want to wait inside in the dark waiting to attack me.
I stepped down off the board walk and then up onto the next portion of boardwalk. To my right was the steps up to the Doc’s place. I wondered why he had an office up stairs instead of on the ground floor. It seemed that would make his life easier.
Of course if he was on the lower floor then more people might just walk in with minor problems. I’d have to ask him the next time I saw him. Hopefully it wouldn’t be for awhile. Just past the stairs was the store front for the general store and post office and everything else. I looked in and it was still open so I walked in.
“Hello Ryan,” I said quietly so as to not startle him.
“Oh, hello, Sheriff. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I was just taking a turn around the town to see what was where. I saw your lights on and thought I’d stop in. Are you always here this late?”
“Late? This isn’t late. I stay open because the cowboys come in for vittles before they go drinking and the late riders don’t get into town until after midnight. If they need something for their tack and such I take the orders and get it made in the morning and have it ready for them the next night.”
“Smart business, Ryan. I would have never thought to do that. I guess that’s why you’re a businessman and I’m just a lowly Sheriff.”
“Not so lowly, Logan. You’ve fit in well and you settled the Bolt problem without getting yourself killed.”
“That last part was mostly dumb luck. So tell me what other businesses are down this way?”
“Well, my feed store is next door and the other side of that is the bank and then a warehouse.”
“And that’s it for the town right now, right?”
“Yes. If the Mayor has his way the new post office and such will be next to the warehouse.”
“Does it matter to you if the post office is in a separate building?”
“The misses makes a tidy little amount from being the Postmistress.”
“Can’t she still do that job when they build the building?”
“Yes, but she’d have to work by herself and being alone is not something she’s comfortable with.”
“I understand. Well I’m gonna keep moving. I’m told things might begin to get busy in another half hour.”
“Sounds about right. Good night, Logan.”
“Good night, Ryan.”
I opened the store’s front door and noticed the bell ring above me. I guess I had too many things going on before to notice the thing.”
When I closed the door I noticed that I couldn’t hear the bell from outside the store. I turned right and walked past the seed store and for some reason a picture of Darlene came to mind. I walked past the building and down the boardwalk steps to the dirt street in front of the warehouse. The road was deeply rutted from wagons coming and going.
I took a walk around part of the building, going only as far as the street lights afforded me light. I made a note to walk around the place tomorrow. I walked out into the middle of the street and stopped to look and listen to the town after dark. I could hear the piano and laughter from the saloon. I could see the bright lights around and inside the Sportin’ Club.
That was it. That was the entire town. I stumbled into one of the ruts in the dirt street. I looked down and made my way across the street to the boardwalk and stepped up to find myself standing in front of another empty storefront. I looked around to see if anyone was around. I walked by it slowly and tried to see inside, to no avail.