Hired Gun From Santa Fe - Cover

Hired Gun From Santa Fe

Copyright© 2016 by harry lime

Chapter 10

It was true that things had quieted down substantially in the bloody range war in the valley on that crisp autumn morning.

The Chisholm brothers, Sam and Saul were enjoying close family relations not only with their own spouses but with other female in-laws and the two brothers were more than willing to switch their spouses when things got a mite boring on the cold nights under the thin blankets. It was so much more fun to find a different pair of cheeks to mount and the grass was always greener on the other side of the fence was a reality in the frontier existence.

Fortunately, they kept everything under their ten gallon hats because it was unlikely the neighbors would approve of their wife switching programs or the even more inappropriate participation of other family members. There was no direct blood relationship involved in their improvised couplings so there was no sense of incest in their passionate nocturnal fumbling in the darkened bedrooms. Sometimes, their decisions about switching partners were made in lust-driven experiments with the sounds of panting and groaning filling the large house with an atmosphere of frenzied sex. The spirit of excitement was heightened under the light of the voyeuristic moon after all the lamps were turned off for the final time each evening.

It was beginning to look like both wives and the other female members of their households would be multiplying in the spring and nobody was really concerned about paternity responsibility because it was all in the family after all was said and done.

The Chisholm clan was doubled that year and it was entirely truthful to say that things were surprising on an even keel and spirits were steadily improving in that section of the valley.

The fly in the ointment was the changing laws back east that gave the newly arriving settlers fresh off the boat from foreign countries a stake in their own frontier lifestyle. They were a mixed lot and that was a fact that could not be denied by any impartial observer.

It was the sound of the noisily departing train from Saint Louis that made some of the horses tethered to the rails outside the saloon snort and nervously try to pull their reins from the weather-beaten wooden rail. Luckily, none of them were successful in the attempts and there was no need to chase a spooked horse down the middle of the muddy street with little gratitude from the careless owner.

The small gathering of new settlers hunkered down on the station platform circled like a wagon train waiting for an attack by some of the Apache renegades that lived to make trouble for anyone and everyone because that was their nature unlike the so-called reservation Indians that sucked up the rot-gut whiskey brought in by wagon train from stills in the badlands.

There was a smattering of children but they seemed well-behaved and not in the least bit boisterous like normal youngsters entertaining themselves with games concocted on the spur of the moment.

Sam Chisholm was watching an interesting looking new settler filly wearing an unusual leather skirt that did little to hide her perfectly shaped backside. She seemed to be on her own and was keeping close herd on a pair of young ones that appeared itching to break away and start exploring all on their own.

The woman looked fabulous even in the heat of the nearing mid-day sun and she certainly didn’t have that worn-down look of most of these settler females old before their time with young ones running amuck and husbands that were only interested in talking to them when they had them face down in the bed with their ass up high for marital relations. She didn’t look like the type to put up with that sort of nonsense and yet there was an air of sensual attractiveness about her that made Sam regret the fact he was a married man with responsibilities of a family. It made him long for those days when he would just walk up to such an interesting woman and ask her bluntly if she would be interested in spreading her knees for a nice poke in some private place that met with her approval.

Her children, if they actually were hers, seemed well-behaved. Of course, appearances can sometimes be quite deceiving to clueless strangers. It looked to Sam like the other woman were shunning the attractive mature woman in leather and he opined it was probably because she was on her own and they were a mite bit concerned about the restlessness of their own mates when it came to getting skittish around unattached female private parts. Sam came to the conclusion that the children were not hers because they looked a little too old to be her offspring and she was talking to them more like a prison warden than a concerned parent.

He noticed that she had a small handgun in her waist band and that a long gun was on top of the bags at her feet easily accessible for immediate use. Sam was in full approval of a staunch defensive mode even on a dusty street in the middle of a town that was filled with the hanger-on’s of a recently settled range war and the typical persons of dubious character that frequented a frontier town looking for a short cut to a fortune that didn’t require hard work.

Sam was all healed up now after the nasty business with the back-shooting foes during the range wars and he was in prime rutting form taking care of his new wife and the female in-laws that just begged for old-fashioned from behind poking that he valued as his favorite position for seeding female forms.

He could easily picture the leather-clad woman bending over in front of him and presenting her fine flanks for his instantaneous pleasure without objection. He knew instinctively she would be looking over her shoulder trying to see him enter her from behind and that the look of lust would be shining brightly from her innocent blue eyes. He wondered briefly if she was actually a married woman or was still single and playing the field like the rutting males in the big city. Not that it made any difference because he found married women were the best poking partners in a stand-up and take it from behind interlude fraught with the danger of discovery as disciples of deceit.

Sam remembered back in south Texas humping a Mexican married woman with the tightest female opening he had ever encountered. He had taken virgins with easier vaginas to stretch open with his oversized cock. Of course, there were the usual language difficulties, but he was able to understand her sign language that confirmed his suspicion that her husband and other lovers had only used her rear end for their love-making exercises. She indicated that it was entirely with her blessing because she had a particular fondness for taking it up the ass from a man that demanded her cooperation and would often spank her cheeks to insure her joyful response.

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