The Saga of Buffalo Bob and Deadeye Sally

Spring came early that year with most folks remarking how easy the winter had passed without the usual harshness in the shadow of the tall mountains on the horizon.

The snow was already starting to melt on the slopes and the rivers and stream were jumping with fish all in a hurry to get somewhere and only God knew what was driving them in their frantic haste to get there as quickly as possible.

The settlement that was sort of left over after the fort had shut down real permanent like what with the demands for more soldiers to fight in the unpopular Civil War in the east was still about nine men for each woman with hardly any young ones to whoop and holler in the early morning. Everyone agreed that was the time when the good Lord knew most humans were better off sleeping to revitalize their energy cores for some more evening fun and games.

The Indian squatters with their tents in front of the closed up fort were the only ones with young ones except for a pair of girl twins belonging to the undertaker and his mail-order young bride from somewhere back east where men were in short supply due to the casualties of war and the women-folk were all desperate for good old male companionship to keep them warm at night.

The undertaker’s wife was already showing signs of wearing out after the hardship of tending house for her oversexed husband and meeting his demands for nocturnal play at night that put severe demands on her energy reserves robbed of essential sleep missed to satisfy her spouse.

The settlement was still called Fort Pike despite the fact that base was no longer in the Federal list of active locations.

The woman was called Martha and she was downright plain looking but from sturdy stock mostly German in origin and she had enough smarts to do the books for her husband’s business and keep track of the inventory of coffins and other items they needed to bury the dead folks nice and neat like up on the nearby boot hill found in such locations out west.

Her twins were called Greta and Heidi and they were just like two peas in a pod. The Indians would stare at them like they were some sort of aliens come to earth without benefit of natural childbirth.

They were constantly in the company of a female muleskinner called Deadeye Sally who chewed tobacco and always wore leather pants just like one of the good old boys down at the Long Branch Saloon. Nobody messed with Sally because she was a mite short on the temper side of her personality and she was known to have thrown a passel of business at the undertaker just for some offbeat comment or downright insult that she took offense at to the point of drawing iron without proper restraint.

The Chinese lady that ran the tent showers next to the laundry had seen Deadeye Sally’s naked body in her steaming hot tubs that cost only two bits to rent for thirty minutes of intense pleasure. She was the daughter of a beautiful whore who had plied her trade on the San Francisco waterfront for most of her adult life until she passed away in a terrible fire that gutted her neighborhood like a visitation from the Lord almighty to rid the world of the evils of sexual sin and perversion run rampant.

The woman was only in her early thirties but she had some hard times and her face bore some cruel scars from bullies and mean-spirited lovers that enjoyed treating her badly. From the neck down she was quite tolerable but she kept that her own personal business more from cautiousness rather than any sense of shyness because she was truly well-trained in both oral and anal carnal relations learned at an early age at the side of her perverted mother with her complete lack of moral code.

The hot-blooded Chinese lady offered to furnish Sally with a free massage to make her bath a memorable occasion. Once she had the lush body of the female muleskinner on her table with her face hidden inside the cut out opening that hid her facial reactions to the soothing touch of the Chinese lady’s skilled hands, Suzie Wong went directly to Sally’s sensitive slit and showed her why she had offered her massage services. Soon the bath tent was ringing with Sally’s whimpers and moans of pleasure and she was herking and jerking on top of the table like a nun afflicted with a bad case of Saint Vitus Dance with her female parts on fire with passion she had never felt before.

After Suzie Wong had Sally in a fully primed status, she signaled her personal poke boy with the oversized equipment to slide gently between her surprisingly supple legs and feed her his many inches of long hard dick to bring her to her wildly satisfying orgasm. Poor Sally was in a semi-conscious state of mind when she was entered by the handsome poke boy and all she could really do was to relax and take it because she had no reason to turn down this gift from heaven above.

The Chinese laundry girls lined up watching Sally take it and they were chattering away in their native tongue remarking on her flexibility in taking the poke boy’s cock all the way up buried to the hilt in her pink interior.

Suzie gifted Sally with a special pair of her perfumed French knickers to wear under her regular black leather trousers making her feel unusually sexy under her everyday clothes. Sally’s upper body development was nothing to brag about due to her energetic lifestyle but she liked to bind her bosom with the Mormon style bindings that protected her sensitive nipples from rubbing on the rough material of her mannish shirt and leather vest she generally wore every workday of the week.