Chapter 3

Brett was forced to backtrack on his trail after receiving word from a reliable source in the Marshall's office in the State capitol that the outlaws he was chasing had just gutted a shopkeeper who had the uncommon bad judgment to set up shop in the badlands. The merchant's name was Anderson and he was apparently with some degree of clout back east where he had been a minor politician of some sort.

His widow was a Navaho squaw released from captivity by the more warlike Sioux. The fortunate coincidence of a random patrol of cavalrymen from the fort located right on the railway line meeting up with the drunken raiding party of Sioux warriors saved the girl from a lifetime of repeated abuse. Her name was Bright Sunrise, but the shopkeeper who claimed her as his wife simply called her "Sunny" and the name seemed to stick better in a land of few syllables.

The half-breed was still up to his old tricks and he poked the widow with rough abandon before they departed the scene even though she was of his own kind and not one of the hated "white-eyes". The neighbors watched the event with little or no comment not wanting to draw attention whilst the pair was still in the vicinity.

Brett hated the fact he had to re-enter the dangerous region once more but he was happy to have picked up the trail which he had feared was too cold for successful results.

When he arrived at the ravaged store, he found not one, but two widows waiting in tearful anger for some settlement of the store owner's estate. Apparently, the man's first wife had journeyed out for that purpose with no inkling of his illegal marriage to the squaw. Her name was Francis and she was most decidedly a "cold fish" with regards to all men.

Sunny was an attractive female with a skin-tone that suggested some Spanish blood was flowing in the Navaho girl's parent's veins. She was definitely all Indian and life amongst the savage Sioux had made her a dangerous sort even when not provoked.

Brett stood in the doorway looking at the two females wondering which one would make the first move against the other. The first wife was corseted and wore small pinch-nose glasses that made her look even more like a school teacher than anything else. The Indian girl was just the opposite with softly textured deerskins and moccasins to cover her lush body but not hide her sensuous nature.

He arrived only four days after the incident but the simmering feud between the widows was just now coming to a head. Brett managed to get Sunny to confirm the two shooters were his targeted prey with an accurate description. Francis, the first spouse was unable to assist him in any way because she had only arrived two days ago. Right at the moment, poor Sunny was sleeping on some grain bags in the storeroom because the righteous first Mrs. Anderson claimed the upstairs as her sole domain.

The prissy female stalked off upstairs after telling the both of them that their presence was not either needed or desired. That seemed a bit high-handed to Brett since Sunny was the one who knew where every item for sale in the store and warehouse was located and knew just what to charge the townspeople for each item. In addition to that, she had all of the debts owed to Mr. Anderson stored in her head as he was not one for keeping books.

He brought in his blanket from the saddlebags and helped Sunny fix a spot on the yielding sacks in the corner. The scent of her female allure made him suddenly horny and they both succumbed to a need to join their flesh in pursuit of a different prey entirely. Unfortunately, the sounds of their lovemaking roused the envious Mrs. Anderson from her bed and she sneaked downstairs to watch them humping in the light of the full moon streaming in the front windows of the shop. She squatted on the stairs with her fingers working busily between her legs and knew instinctively when Sunny reached that point of no return because she stiffened and gasped her release just like any other female in any part of the world.

Her own fingers were sticky with her own goo now and she still had not achieved her own happy time despite the impetus of watching the fireworks. Faced with the unhappy fact of retreating to her solitary bed and no joy or joining the two sinners on top of the sacks, she elected to be docile and accept what they might cast her way.

Sunny was surprised when Francis slid her slender bottom between them on the sacks and she was tempted to whack her flesh with a heavy hand. However, she took pity on the shivering, needy middle-aged woman and even pushed Brett's still partially erect cock right between her flanks.

The bounty hunter needed no further invitation. He spread Mrs. Anderson's delicate cheeks and found the rear part of her swollen slit. She opened up for him with a gut-wrenching whimper and lowered her lips to kiss the Indian maiden naked and covered with sweat from her recent spirited poking with the bounty hunter. The Navaho girl accepted her tongue and twisted the widow's nipples with a playful display of skilled arousal techniques. Before long, the widow Francis was pushing her backside up and back for more of Brett's huge cock making submissive sounds of complete surrender.

He looked down at the naked figure of the "cold fish" writhing in complete abandon underneath his buried cock and saw that she was truly in a state of frenzied lust. At that moment, Francis was more the wanton savage than Sunny and he delivered his package of bounty hunter sperm deep inside her vaginal channel in a place where it was much needed for her joyful release.

As soon as he withdrew, Francis sank down onto the sacks with a satisfied sigh of happiness and Sunny hastened to shove his cock into her greedy mouth. The Indian girl was happy with the still-stiff cock and was equally comfortable with the taste of the stuck-up white woman from the east who acted like her poop didn't stink just like everyone else's.

Sunny hoped that Brett would stay with them long enough for him to sample the tightness of Mrs. Anderson's little backside. Mr. Anderson had made much sport of her own tight little hole much to her distress in the middle of the night. The Indian society seldom ventured into such erotic detours and it was all a mystery to her before she became the property of the lonely shopkeeper. She knew she had to do her duty and accepted her role as a bitch to his wants and needs. Now, she wanted the bounty hunter to give the stuck-up prissy Mrs. Anderson the same treatment that she had received and she would watch the woman's every reaction to the shame and humiliation of bending over for a greedy cock. Maybe she would even kiss her civilized lips when Brett was deep inside her back there and she would feel the nervous heat of the older woman's taking.

Brett was glad when Francis invited them both to join her in the big bed upstairs because he wanted to see the both of them side by side with their different shapes waiting for his touch. He would be able to go back and forth testing their alternate openings for fit and wetness. After several entries, he decided that Francis was tighter than Sunny but that the Indian girl was a great deal juicier and appreciative of his efforts. It was only after he discovered that the trigger to the eastern woman's lust was a spirited smacking of her pretty bottom that he enjoyed the full frenzy of her threshing limbs.

Sunny looked on in satisfaction watching the haughty female taking it from the rear. When Brett accidently slipped out after a violent thrust, she held his tip right on the woman's pucker hole and smiled with mean-spirited delight when he shoved his business deep up her fundament before she realized how defenseless she was under his control.