Rachel’s room. Plainsburg saloon. Window overlooks the dusty main street. Sunset bleeds orange. My spurs jingle as I pace, avoiding the red-sheeted bed. Heart pounds. Cock twitches under chaps, eyeing her ass swaying in that black frilly dress. She smiles, pro whore, lace like a schoolgirl but eyes screaming fuck me. Black hair in a bun. Young, experienced. Invites me in.
I grab the bag from the awning. Pull it through the window. She gasps. Out comes the Sharpe-Borchard. Double triggers. .50 caliber beast. Scope sharp. Check the sights. Her breath stops. I squat by the sill, rifle steady. ‘Gonna stay the night, Rachel. Paid you good. But I’m watching.’ She pouts, drops the dress. Corset hugs tits. Jupon fluffs hips. Naked curves glow. ‘C’mon, handsome, quick suck?’ Lips wet, eyes hungry.
The Awakening
Tension coils. Sweat beads on my neck. Street below empties. Cowboys stagger home. Notables in top hats chat. My past floods: ranch lost, pa dead, gang life with Willy Blood Boyle. Raids, kills, betrayals. Eyota’s whispers, Charlotte’s fire. Learned the rich fuck us all. Jay Copeland, railroad kingpin, used us. Now he rides in. My bullet ends it.
Her hand on my thigh. Fingers tease belt. Heat rises. Forbidden rush—her body or the kill? Both scream sin. Adrenaline spikes dick hard. Breathe deep. Scope on street. Dawn nears. Pulse races, balls tight.
Sun cracks horizon. Street wakes. Wagons rumble. Then him: fancy carriage, six horses. Top hat, fat mustache. Copeland. Heart slams ribs. Fingers itch triggers. Rachel whispers, ‘After?’ Tits press my arm. Ignore. Eye to scope. Crosshairs lock chest. World narrows. Her perfume mixes gun oil. Sweat drips. Cock strains. Hold breath.
The Act and the Secret
Squeeze. Boom cracks room. Recoil jars shoulder. Glass shatters? No, suppressed thrill. He jerks. Red sprays. Carriage chaos. Horses bolt. I see it: his eye gone, slump dead. Bullseye. Gut twists ecstasy. Cum almost without touch—pure taboo power.
Rachel freezes, eyes wide. ‘You… fuck.’ I grin, savage. Pack rifle fast. Her shock feeds fire. Kiss hard, taste fear-lust. ‘Secret’s ours.’ Spurs clink out back door. Street screams. Pat waits. Mac, Anton hit bank. Chaos covers. Gallop into plains. Wind whips. Browny flies.
Alone later. Campfire crackles. Replay: her curves tempting, rifle bucking, life snuffed. Dick throbs reliving. Stroke slow. Explosion in veins. Transgression’s high—no regrets. Society’s chains? Fucked. This rush, mine alone. Eyota dreams nod approval. Charlotte’s words echo: bigger fight. But this kill? Pure, dirty bliss. Secret locked. Crave next sin.