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You decide to make a grand entrance, kicking the saloon doors open before striding in with the confidence of a hard-boiled sheriff. It doesn’t startle the gray-haired bar-maid though, instead perking her up from the lazily spinning roulette wheel. Her chest bounces when she sits up, the tight blouse pronouncing her bouncing “gifts” while the corset cinched on her waist turn her curves from unreal to downright impossible-to-ignore. Her crimson eyes light up, smile growing wider and blush brighter as you tuck your thumbs into your belt and greet her.
“Commandeeer, you're finally back~” the Pittsburgh excitedly exclaims. Has she been sitting here alone since the shoot ended? You’re about to ask, but she’s quicker on the draw as she leaps from the betting tables and rushes to you.
“Hahaha, I'm tired of roulette. Let's do something more fun…” she flirtatiously grabs you by the hand and guides it to her hips, effortlessly stepping into and forcing an embrace..
“Pittsburgh, we’re still on set.” you knowingly sigh as she presses herself against you, nuzzling herself against your cowboy costume and taking deep and somewhat shameless huffs. You don’t try to push her off, just coax with a cautious, “Everyone can see us.”
“What? Everyone can see us? Let them watch~ Heehee~ ” the cruiser giggles, rubbing her most supple bits against you, making sure to really give you a good feel of everything she has to offer “on tap”- so to speak. Doesn’t take much to know she’s worked up, maybe a mix of drinking juice out of boredom and getting a little too into her act.
“The others are still over at the second set-”
“But we have the bar all to ourselves. There’s no reason to come over here when the shoots are done. Besides- ” Pittsburgh whispers low and seductive, and you know that she doesn’t mince her words. “-sometimes it can be fun in a dirty little saloon, right?”
Pittsburgh tugs at your belt while she guides you -quite literally- by the seat of your pants to the set’s dusty card table. You could have protested easily, all you’d need to do is plant your feet and she would have understood… but no, you follow along, and before you can ask what she’s up to, Pittsburgh sits herself atop it. The wood creaking beneath her weight, legs dangling over the edge, dress dangerously revealing…
“Oh~?” Pittsburg smiles, eyes gleaning where your gaze drifted to in an instant; “Isn’t this dress just lovely?” she asks knowingly, running her hands down her sides -right from the strained fabric trying to hold her rolling hills in- and across the underbust corset that highlights her unreal figure. Lithe waist, broad and curvaceous hips, thighs that are thick and springy as she pulls the parting of the skirt aside to reveal the thigh-holster… but she doesn’t stop there. No, she goes damn-near all the way up the leg, revealing the thin string of a side-tie…
“See, if I grab here and pull… Heehee- it comes right off.”
“Pittsburgh-” you caution, more aware than she is that there are others still on set. She puffs a cute, pouty cheek at your perceived reluctance, but she hops off from the card table and dusts her skirt.
Your eyes catch her cleavage swaying when she bends over, darting to the generous curve of her hind to see the jiggle when she slaps those springy cheeks-
And when she catches you leering, Pittsburgh’s grin is like that of a kid in a candy shop. She sidles up to you, undeterred -or perhaps emboldened- by the fact that she’s drunk. Her fingers dance up your arm, tracing across your shoulders, caressing the nape of your neck; before you know it she’s drawn herself dangerously close to you, the doughy contents of her blouse pressing their weight against your chest as she flaunts herself.
“People might see-”
“So what?” she pouts slightly, nuzzling her face into your neck- or more specifically spreading her intoxicating mix of sweet perfume and the musk of the day’s “games” onto your own particularly pungent costume.
“Pittsburgh-”
The cruiser giggles at your conflicting discomfort, knowing just how much she is riling you up.
“Commander... Oh, should I call you "legendary bounty hunter"?” she teases, instantly noting how your heart skips a beat against her chest. “Really? That gets you more in the mood, doesn't it?”
Part of you wants to end the little show, get yourselves off-set, and settle this back in the hotel room… but Pittsburgh’s fingers find your concealed firearm, stroking it with such tempting care as she pulls her lips to your ears. A little nibble that sends a shiver through your spine before she headily whispers;
“Sometimes, it can be a little fun to do it in a dirty little saloon, right?”
Your reaction is instinctive, her laugh sultry and knowing as she strokes the outline of your barrel through the costume’s denim.
“-after all… I know you enjoy my special services~”
Your body reflexively trembles with excitement, and Pittsburgh most certainly notices as she deftly maneuvers you to the bar. With your back pressed up against the wood, she slowly slides herself down your body. If anyone were to come through the saloon’s swinging doors, the first thing they’d see is the cruiser playing “bar wench” on her knees before you, face nuzzling your crotch.
You reach down to perhaps calm her down with a promise of “we can do this later” but she catches your hand… and squeezes it tight.
“How about we play a little game? You’re the ‘legendary bounty hunter’ and I’m the outlaw…”
“Pittsburg, I think you’re a little drunk.”
“It’s just juice… but perhaps I’m getting a little drunk off you~”
You can’t tell if you were cringing at the cheesiness of her scripted line or the instinctive excitement of her undoing your zipper, but all common sense goes out the window when she draws your raw, throbbing big iron from your pants.
“We’re going to get caught-” you protest. It’s rather unconvincing, considering how your breath hitches when she brushes those prurient and plump lips up the length of your barrel. Your hesitation to push her away puts a tell-all grin on her face as she teases her warm breath on your sensitive skin.
“Let's gamble on it. If you win, I'll let you take the next step~”
“-and if we both lose?” you breathlessly ask, hinting to the consequences of another actor coming onto your set.
“A real gambler won’t think about losing… just playing… -Mwah~!- the game…” Pittsburg sultrily answers whole plucking a sloppy kiss from the base of your meaty six-shooter. Instinctive response is a fresh rush of blood down below, and the buxom cruiser laughs throatily as she nuzzles her face against it.
“So… how many rounds will it take for you to beat this dirty outlaw, I wonder?” she asks, rubbing your pre-excitement on her face as she salaciously drags her lips across the length. Her mouth opens, tongue laid out like a red carpet, inviting and hospitable like a good bartender should be-
Your last chance to fold before she ups the bet-
And it comes and goes when Pittsburgh seals her mouth around your tip. Gentle, teasing sucks at first, perhaps giving you a second out, but you’re all in at this point. You place a hand on her head, letting her know that's right where she’s going to stay, and you swear to the almighty that you see her eyes brighten up with a lustful light.
Just like a steam locomotive firing its boilers up, Pittsburgh is erotically slow. Each bit she takes into her mouth is greeted by her tongue flexing and wiggling against it, lubing up your drive-rod for the ride of a lifetime.
Her mouth taking your rod over and over again, the slurping and muffled moans keeping your boiler absolutely roiling and your hips reflexively swinging forward to meet her mouth-pistoning faster. There’s only so long that your steam engine can keep up this speed though. Pressure is building in the tank, and the first thing you do to try and control it is grab the bar-wench roughly by the head to hold her in her place.
“Mhmmm~ Mnnn…” Pittsburgh deviantly hums, closing her eyes to fully enjoy the sensation of you fucking her mouth. Spit and slobber leaks from her lips, and though she tries to suck it in, she’s practically salivating at the savoriness of your sausage. What she doesn’t get into her mouth she pumps with one hand while her other makes some particularly suggestive *shlicks* from beneath her slip-of-a-dress.
Her eyes flutter open when your tip teases the back of her throat, but you can see just how lost in it she is with how unfocused her gaze has become. Your engine pumps your hips faster, harder, pistoning into Pittsburgh’s steamy mouth to the point she just gives up stroking you to fully play with herself. Over and over, building speed and pressure and Pittsburgh taking it all with little complaint and a lot of muted moans…
But those crimson eyes gleam as she feels your six-shooter swell in her mouth, her tongue tickling its trigger now.
“Pittsburg!” you groan, grabbing the bar-wench roughly by the back of her head and shoving her slathering, lascivious face right into your crotch with a thrust of your hips. You feel her yelp, her throat constricting to block the airway, only to be pried open by your gun barrel.
“Hnngh ghlck!-” she chokes and you nearly pull back, but her tongue… her tongue is teasingly wiggling against your ammo pouch.
“Unngh, hnng, ghlck! Ghlck! Ghlck ghlck ghlck-”
You fuck Pittsburg’s mouth, feeling your crotch pounding her lips as she lets your hot, meaty train ride the rail of her tongue deep into her throat over and over again.
“Pittsburg!”
She’s tensed on your trigger, working through the poundage until-
Hammer drops, a slug of white fired right into her gut. She doesn’t blink, doesn’t protest the cruel treatment, and if anything she’s humming with mischievous delight as each sensitive shiver wracks your body. She pulls you from her throat, tongue cleaning and polishing all the way to the barrel’s head before popping her lips from its threading.
And with a wink, she blows on the tip like she would have her revolver, purring;
“One~”
There’s a twitch of excitement from her temptation, a second wind not far off the horizon, but the first thing you do is help Pittsrburgh to her feet. There’s a wet stain she’s left on the floorboards beneath her, but you ignore that to instead wipe the spittle from her face with your handkerchief. The caring gesture puts a brief, loving smile on her already glowing features before the balance tips once more.
“Such a gentleman.” she delights, standing tall against your body. Hand on your chest with fingers drawing lazy circles, she slowly and effortlessly pushes you back towards the bar. “I’ll have you know though… a gentleman like you won’t just stop because he’s satisfied, right?”
Your back strikes against the hard-wood countertop, and the moment you look away from her, Pittsburgh coils herself around you like an affectionate viper.
“Com~man~der~” Pittsburgh raises her leg to wrap it around the back of your thighs, pressing her crotch to yours. Your rod can feel the heat through her skirt and panties- hell you can taste the wetness against your skin as well.
“How about a wager?” she asks, seductively grinding herself against you, “Whoever wins gets to do whatever they want to the loser. For example…” Pittsburgh flips the hem of her skirt up, tantalizing you with just a flash of her skin before she slips your ramming-rod between her thighs and drapes the white linen back over you. Her fingers play innocently with the back of your head, intent to draw you in closer to whisper a secret.
“Bang~”
A single word uttered with the most profoundly provocative purr right when she begins to squeeze and wiggle her lusciously soft legs together- with you trapped in between.
“...And what’s the game, Pittsburgh?” you manage to hiss, doing your best to switch the train’s track from its last stop to the next.
“Mmmm… well since you’re all ready to please…” she pulls your costume’s pocket watch from the breast of your jacket, clicking it open. “Last longer than… ohhh… five minutes?”
Her words drip with the most succulent honey, a temptation more intoxicating than any of the spirits that lay behind the bar. Receiving only a suck of breath in, Pittsburgh giggles throatily, biting her bottom lip seductively as she begins to work her warm, lusciously soft thighs around your girth.
If it is just this bit of stimulation, you could certainly last five minutes given how recently you came.
Sadly for you, Pittsburgh has so, so much more to shamelessly give.
“Commander~ Commanderrrr~ I can feel it… rubbing against my pussy…” she moans in your ear. “Commander… I want you inside me again…”
Pittsburgh wiggles back and forth, her heat permeating what little fabric her underwear is made of, a dampness soaking into them to paint the roof of your shaft.
So maybe it might be harder to hold on with such salacious words slathered atop the sensations… but you can still manage with deep, controlled breaths. You pulse urgently once or twice, but there’s a wave of relief that soon follows-
But Pittsburgh raises the stakes again, yanking her blouse down and thrusting her chest into your face. She cups her tits to really show you her depth, fondling your face with the paradoxical doughy-soft weight, trying to drown you in her very flesh.
“There’s plenty of ways to quench your thirst, Commander…” Pittsburgh teases her nipple against your lips, tempting you suckle as she whispers, “If only… you knocked me up last time… I could have some milk for you~”
Her words are dangerous. Intoxicating like a gulp of moonshine laced with a rattlesnake’s venom with how it makes your brain seize up. With the absence of logic, the primitive takes control, wrangling your mouth around Pittsburgh’s invitingly stiff nipple. Her hum is syrupy-thick and she giggles when your tongue tickles and teases the nerves there.
It does little to help curb the excitement welling up from below. No, in fact it’s making it worse.
When she shudders and squeezes your rail tight between her thighs, you know she’s completely boiled over, the pressure valve of her steam engine screaming at its release. Her body convulses, nearly has her double over only to be caught by you, and when she looks up at you with crimson eyes lost in the haze of lust and euphoria and bottom lip quivering with each whimper…
Well, with the ugliest of groans, your dam cracks and lets a squirt of white-water through its sluice.
“Com~man~der~” Pittsburgh luridly warbles, still trapped in a daze of orgasmic joy but aware enough to know your body seizing up and your member convulsing between her legs. She giggles with a delight so pure that you almost mistake her for a giddy, lovestruck woman finally getting that long-sought confession.
-ignoring the fact that her breasts are spilling out like a harlot or that she reaches beneath her skirt to scoop at the stain you’ve left before debaucherously bringing a bit of sticky-white up to her lips. She makes a show of licking it off strand-by strand, plucking her lips from each fingertip like it’s some succulent sauce.
“And that's two~! Guess I won this round…” she knowingly chirps, nuzzling her nose into the crook of your neck before kissing her way upwards.
“So… what is it you’re… going to do?” you nervously ask, knowing that a needy woman like Pittsburgh had all manner of ideas floating around in her head. Would she demand you hogtied so that she could ride you like a personal saddle? Would she drag you outside to bend her over the saloon’s railing so everyone can watch just like she teased? Would she do anything and everything to you to slake her drunk lust at the cost of your public image?
Pittsburgh does the opposite of what you expect; she pulls away. All of the dread you could have held in your heart is snuffed like a dynamite stick’s fuse being pinched… and replaced with confusion when she staggers like a drunkard back towards the bar.
“I can’t… fight you off…” she dramatically wails out as she falls forward onto the bartop, breasts spilling and squashed flat as she flicks her hind towards you. “You caught me… mister law-man. I’m at your mercy-”
“Pittsburgh I-”
She cuts your excuse off with a sharp and dangerous glare before putting her arms behind her back.
“What… what are you doing!?” she howls, “anything but my virtue!”
It’s just loud enough to be concerning, and the moment the meaning of her acting sinks in, Pittsburgh licks her lips.
You step up to her, a reflexively dry gulp working your throat as you roughly grab her pre-restrained arms.
“Nnn…-” “W-W-What are you doing? What are gonna do to me!?”
“I’m… gonna rape you?”
A bump of her hips back to go with a quite convincing stare. She wants your best acting, apparently. Have to put your heart into it.
“I… I’m… gonna fuck you over your own bar… whore.” you say with a smidge more confidence now that you have a read on what she wants of you.
Pittsburgh squeals despite your less-than-convincing performance… and somehow her deviance instills a bit more confidence in your acting.
“P-Please don’t! I-I’ll serve my time. I-I’ll pay my bounty! Anything-”
You flip her skirt up, taking a second to admire that satisfyingly rounded rump… before throwing a clapping spank across those creamy-white cheeks. The “outlaw” shrieks and chokes a false sob, but even an actress like she can’t hide the momentary tremble of her knees.
Nor can she disguise the wet stain she’s left on the crotch of her thong. When your free hand greedily glides down her waist and over her hip, she writhes in mock disgust, trying to evade your lustful touch if only to put your hand right onto her thong’s side-tie.
You only need to give a teasing tug before she undoes her own underwear while trying to “escape”, leaving the other half of the fabric to flutter down her leg while being chased by a strand of clear syrup.
“N-No…” she gasps, eyes looking back at you with a very convincing bit of fear. It’s enough to pluck a guilty chord, maybe even take some wind out of your sails…
“Your cock… won’t fit in me… you’ll tear me up-” Pittsburgh dryly sobs, trembling as your rifle rubs up against her absolutely drenched opening- but that shudder certainly wasn’t fear.
“Well that’s too damn bad.” you growl back at her, giving a more convincing spank this time before shoving her harder against the wood. “You got a damn fine pussy for a woman on the run-”
With Pittsburgh pinned against the bar, you reach down for your gun and line it up with its lubed-up holster… and take her swiftly and savagely.
“Hya-mmph!”
Pittsburgh gets about half of the scream out before you clamp your hand over her mouth. You fall upon her, driving your entire length into her walls, her attempts at shoving you “off” of her only driving you deeper into prurient flesh.
You fuck her, ugly and quick, against that bar top. Her muffled cries are mostly caught against your palm, but a few manage to slip the cracks when you “assault” her, not to mention an occasional sob as she squeezes her eyes shut tight.
The saloon is tainted with the sounds of its bar-girl being violated; of wet slapping unmistakable by any who’d hear it, cries choked by tears, whines of protest silenced by spanks, and growls of raw debasing hunger- from two throats. Harder, faster, yanking on the reins of her arms or shoving her face against the dirty bar, you heartily partake of Pittsburgh, falling more and more into the villainous role she cast you in.
“Where should I shoot it, you think?” you darkly tease with a grind of your hips against hers, “Right into your womb? Maybe across this sweet apple-bottom?”
Pittsburgh moans slightly before the act catches up again and she vehemently shakes her head in denial. Fear dominates her eyes when she looks back, her gaze darting between reading the cruelty on your face and the cock prodding her stomach.
“Leave you with a kid?”
She shakes her head again, even as she rocks her hind back against your crotch, knees knocking together as she rushes from crescendo-to-climax.
“That might keep you outta trouble- having to care for a bastard…”
She groans, letting you yank her head back by that ponytail as you really put the spurs to her. Back arched like a bow being drawn, her tits flopping and slapping against the bartop as you brutally fuck her into the wood.
“I think I’ll like you better stained with my color-”
And with one final, debasing thrust, you buck her up and off of you, sending her sprawled onto the bar-top right when you yank your cock from her ravenous flesh. Just the act of pulling out from such suckling pleats is enough to send you over though. You grab hold of the cream-slathered six-shooter and take aim just as the next shot goes off.
A streak of white across her reddened cheeks- a little drizzle of some condensed milk instead of caramel to coat that apple.
Pittsburgh slumps to her knees sobbing and trembling at the end of this whole affair, but you know that she’s fingering herself, teasing out the tail end of her climax. You hover over her, drinking in the fine whine of her lust as she looks up at you once more, mouth agape as she desperately gasps for air. A hand to help her up instead leads to her dragging you down into her coiling, suffocating embrace.
“Three~” Pittsburgh coos into your ear, wrapping you up tight and engulfing you with her. Her kiss combines all the spirits behind the bar, pours into every one of your senses as she consumes you, lips, breath, soul-
And she wants more.
You rise together, but she sits you down at the bar -pantless, mind you- as she slips behind it to mix up what she calls a “juice”, coming back around to sit herself across your lap and cover up your little wardrobe “malfunction”.
Should someone barge in now, they might not see you with your cock out, but they’ll definitely see Pittsburgh straddled across your lap, hair all tousled from your handfuls, her blouse disheveled like it’d been hastily yanked up, and then they’d certainly start asking questions.
Maybe they’d even see her panties dangling from her ankle.
When you take a sniff of the glass, there’s nothing… out of the ordinary. Nothing pungent or caustic, no alcoholic tinctures, just the sweet scent of fruit.
Pittsburgh gingerly takes the glass from your hand though, placing the rim up to her plump, juicy, pouty lips…
“It’s not poisoned…” she teases you with a tickle under the chin before tipping the glass slightly. She makes a show of a deep, provocatively pronounced gulp, tongue licking as she slowly and temptingly pulls the rim away.
And she holds the glass for you, the print of her lip gloss there as your target practice.
When you put your own over them, Pittsburgh tips the glass for you. Sweet liquid, perhaps some ambrosia she’s whipped up to hide the spirits, but it’s a whirling mix of flavor and scent with none of the burn of a cocktail. The glass is empty before you know it, with Pittsbugh cuddling and caressing you the entire time.
“Commander~ you were so… passionate…” she swoons, taking your glass for another taste of the leftover drops. Her giggles are like the high-octave notes of a piano. Melodic, if not slightly off-key as she drunkenly sways back and forth on your lap. You watched her mix the drink, pouring nothing but fruit juices into the shaker, so why are you feeling so… light? So vibrant?
Pittsburgh breaths are as sweet as they are humid, and the way that she cradles her breast beneath her arm only pronounce the depth of her bust. Filled with a sudden overwhelming boldness, you wrap your arms around her impossibly supple waist and embrace Pittsburgh. It’s affection she didn’t expect, considering she gasps in surprise before your hands wander to do something far less innocent when they creep up her belly.
The depth of her softness is seemingly unending, your fingers sinking into the irresistible tenderness of those massive pillows. Pittsburgh does nothing to stop you, only throatily laughing whenever your fingertips tickle and tease her. It's not long before her soft little nubs stand erect against the blouse’s strained fabric, and even less after that before you just yank the troublesome barrier down to spring her malleable mountains free. Her skin is warm and creamy, the weight bouncing in the palms of your hands at the slightest of movements. She leans further back with each massaging gyration you make, eyes closed, huffing deep and heated puffs of breath into your ear.
“Mmm… very nice… you’re great at this, Commander~” Pittsburgh gushes… in more than one way. There’s a dampness as she grinds herself against your leg, her hip rocking growing needy enough to make the stool you sit on tip dangerously.
She can feel it against her rear again, and she gives you a knowing wink as she hums, “So… how about a little more? You still got a round in the chamber dontcha?”
… Dontcha?
“S-Stop!” Pittsburgh screams, shaking her head in denial even as her legs wrap around your waist and feet lock tight behind you with perfect insincerity.
“No way.” you snarl back, grunting in frustration at how difficult she’s making pounding her into the piano. “Body this fine? Gotta get what I can before it rots in prison.”
“You can’t-”
“But I can- I am. ” you grin wickedly, grabbing a handful of her swaying, rolling tits. You give her a few more good thrusts, ones that really slam your red-hot branding iron into her cervix over and over again, marking her with your claim, wrenching screams that twist deliriously with equal parts agony and euphoria. Each time strikes a different note into her cries- and into the piano that is taking the brunt of the punishment.
Pittsburgh had tempted you over to the grand piano, laid herself down atop of it, and the moment you slid into her anxiously awaiting walls, she’s been doing her damndest to coax that wicked bit of roleplay back out. Admittedly didn’t take a whole lot- just a bit of a coy glance from the corner of her eyes as she dangled her legs limply off the side of the piano, her clothes already a mess…
“Take it… take it wench!” you snarl, banging her so hard against the wood that the piano’s clattering against the floor, notes twanging discordantly under Pittsburgh’s cries. You squeeze her tit harder, almost as if you were trying to burst it like a water balloon, delighting in the squeal and grunt from the lustful cruiser as you tweak her by the nipple. “You’re gonna pay back every damn penny with your body!”
“No, no stop~” she tries to protest; even manages to slap your hands off of her chest, but when she tries to shove you off, you fall further upon her.
“I don’t want your child!” she screams, but you can feel the lie in just how desperately she clings to you.
So you fuck her into that grand piano, you drive into her so hard you think you’ll split the damn cover with how much the wood groans and creaks in protest. You force your tongue into her mouth, bite at her lips, violating this supposed criminal in every way possible. How nice of her to really phone in the script for you, even as she tries to shove your face from hers.
“Bitch!” you snap, grabbing her by her wrists and wrenching them aside to reveal her chest bouncing with your violent thrusts, the jiggle of them unable to settle until you slam yourself deep, grinding the barrel of your gun into her gut as a threat. “You’re gonna have my bastard now.”
Eyes go wide with a very convincing fear, her lips trembling like she’s going to sob, but you can feel how excited she is at that declaration. Hell, the moment you even hint at fucking a child into her, her walls constrict tighter than a vice; the perfect mix of heat, stickiness, and spice making you swell in an attempt to loosen her hold.
With a triumphant groan, you unload another virile shot into her, delighting in how she shrieks and sobs, trying to wrench her hands from yours- trying to just get away, but how can she when you’ve buried the muzzle right into her womb?
“No! No! Not like this! I don’t want my first child like this!” she wails, thrashing her head back and forth in denial of the very real warmth pooling inside her. Her scream tapers as she runs out of breath and twists into raspy, choked sobs.
Until she eventually goes limp, dazed, eyes glazed over. It’s a surreal sight; this big-titted bar wench sprawled out across the piano, cock-teasing blouse yanked down, skirt hiked up her hips, side-tied panties undone on one end as her pretty pink petals pulse to try and push your impregnating slug out of her walls.
Defeat; the outlaw is broken, and you’ve gotten far more value out of her bounty than just coin alone.
At least… until she smiles, venomous and knowing, crimson eyes locked upon you like a viper as she licks her lips hungrily.
“Four~”
The thump of wood, the threatening jingles of glass bottles forming an impromptu seismograph. Hoarse, desperate growls between the rushed clapping of intimate flesh together. Pittsburgh had lured you behind the bar this time, suffocating you with her smothering, smoldering desires until you shoved her back against the shelves of liquor.
The sly viper had poured a shot of poison for you, placed it into her bountiful valley, let you sip from it until she had you licking the liquor from her sweetly-sweaty skin, supping from her. You shared, of course, giving back with alcohol-laden kisses, before you lifted her up, one of her luscious thighs wrapped around your waist as you sat her on that back shelf-
Drunk on both the fire-water and the lusting cruiser, the moment you felt her guide you into her velvety walls, you instinctively started sawing your hips.
At this point, you’re going to have fucked her over the whole saloon set, and anyone outside must know what’s been happening and chosen not to step in- so you might as well keep it up until you’ve had your fill of Pittsburgh.
Or until she’s filled with you.
You grunt as you *plap* your soaked crotch against hers, listening to the delicious trill of her cries each time her hungering cervix suckles your cock’s head. This particular bar-brawl grows more and more depraved as the minutes pass, Pittsburgh gasping and throatily laughing each time you bottom her out. Her nails dig into your shoulders or rake down your back, the stinging pain only making you ram into her harder than the last… and instead of screaming in pain, she lasciviously licks the sweat from the crook of your neck.
“Pittsburgh!” you moan, a deep and low rumble, like the coming dusk of sunset on the horizon. There’s no act anymore, just the frenzied, feverish need to couple with this perfect woman. Whatever justification for it all falls second to the desire for her body- giving in to the instinctive need to breed her. You slam a hand against the back wall, fingernails digging into the wood as you try and hold on a bit longer, build up that little bit more pressure in the steam-engine-
“You’re gonna cum again?” Pittsburgh manages a gasp, staring wide-eyed at where you drill her, each pump of your cock up into her rippling upward in a wave of delight. You can’t reply with words, only more action that brings you closer to her predetermined outcome.
“If you cum inside me again, will you let me go, mister-lawman?” Pittsburgh seductively groans, “I promise I’ll be a good girl from now on.”
Your answer comes in the form of a bucking so hard that she cries out in equal parts surprise and delight. You drive her into the wall like you’re hammering a particularly stubborn nail. Yeah, that’s a good way to describe her right now- stubborn. The moment there was the hint of arousal, she refused to let you go- refused to let you even get a breather. Her arms cling tighter around your neck, her heel digging in on your haunches to try and screw your cock deeper into her.
“Please? Please mister bounty-hunter… I -ahn!- I’ll be heavy with your child! I won’t -Ah… ahn!- run. ” she pleads with a hypnotically breathy treble, “I’ll be yours. I sweat I’ll be yours… just… put a baby into this filthy girl-”
Her lips a hair’s breadth from yours, you pucker for the loving and doting bit of her to come out…
Only to feel Pittsburgh breathe, “Five…” against them as you slam yourself into her one more time to release a thick slug of white into her womb.
Wracked with a muscle-melting spasm you lose all sensation in your legs, falling back in a woozy haze of exhaustion and contentment. There certainly has to be a smile on your face before it all comes crashing down on the floor-
But your darling catches you, gently guiding you to the wood below. Head upon her lap, her gentle palm upon your sweaty forehead, her breasts jiggling with each deep and satisfied breath Pittsburgh takes.
“Well, legendary bounty hunter? That’s all you got?” Pittsburgh suggestively giggles, “Only five shots?”
Her fingertips tickle little trails down the plains of your belly, each on their own path but all converging on a single destination. They stroke skin that is clammy and sticky, nerves that have been overstimulated to the point of being sated, flesh that has been so thoroughly used up that it’d take considerable effort to get it back up in working order. It’s a gun that’s going to need some tender love and care in the form of a cleaning and re-greasing, perhaps a bit of polish…
So Pittsburgh sets your head down gently before she leans over and gets to work. Diligent and thorough, she takes you into her mouth, lips buffing while her tongue cleans. She hums when she feels the desired effect breathing a new life into your virile six-shooter. With one savory leg swung over your head she straddles you. While the sensation of her tongue is so much duller than before, the mere fact that Pittsburgh is giving you her all makes more than just your heart swell. When her head plunges down, she sucks hard, pulling your flagging manhood deeper into her sensual servicing. You feel the vibration in each note of feverish craving she growls, an urgency and ferocity as she measures the effect of her maintenance with her tongue.
Not for lack of trying, you are just damn near spent… but something clicks when you hear her muffled whimper and whine- pleading for you to get up for her one last time. She reaches back between your bodies, fingertips grazing puffy, raw-red lips. Between index and middle, she obscenely spreads herself before your eyes, showing you the hole that's gasping, begging desperately to be filled again- even as there is still evidence of your last shot still staining them.
And the sight over her furiously rubbing and flicking at her pleasure-pearl makes it so “damn near spent” isn’t “fully spent”.
You groan as you push past the wall, and you can feel Pittsburgh’s smile against your skin, feel her giggle rumble into your every nerve as she slowly and satisfyingly pulls her lips up your reinvigorated member. Without wasting a second she’s spun herself around, rubbing herself against your reloaded rifle, lips brushing your cheek before playfully nibbling your earlobe.
“One more… I know you can give me one more.” she whispers tenderly. “Let’s make love this time… no games, Com~man~der~”
Pittsburgh reaches back with fingertips fondly finding your tip and lifting it just enough to nock against her opening. She settles onto you, letting you throw your arms around her to cuddle close as she wiggles her hips. Each little bit she takes of you into herself, you kiss the top of her head, letting the scent of her sweet floral shampoo permeate your senses. Your heart instinctively thunders harder, and though her breasts are heavy and full, you can feel her heartbeat thumping back to match.
“You know… I love you~” Pittsburgh sighs as she slowly works herself down your cock until her pussy-lips kiss your crotch.
“I love you too, Pittsburgh.” you manage to breathlessly huff. When she’s fully set, she gives you a deep and endearing kiss before sitting up straight to show you all of her shapely profile. Of course she makes time to highlight all of her most nubile parts and inviting you to partake, but instead you hold your hands out for her. She takes them unto her own- exactly like on your wedding day, your twin rings glinting in the dim saloon light.
And she uses them as her reigns as she slowly, lovingly, and indulgently starts her coital canter upon your lap.
It’s hard to hold on, hard to concentrate on anything but the debauched pleasure of your wife riding you into the floorboards, but you relish every second of love she pours onto your crotch. She laughs every time you groan her name, thrusting her chest out more to show you how her weighty chest bounces and slaps against herself, the gyration of those massive milkers becoming absolutely hypnotic. Eventually she builds up to the gallop, leaning back and gripping your legs, so you grab hold of her God-given reins- those wide, child-bearing, breeding handhold hips… but you can’t stop her from slamming down on your saddle with such force the aged wood beneath you creaks. No, you just hold on for dear life, trying to simply keep her riding the rail down nice and smooth lest it snags.
“C’mon, ‘legendary bounty hunter’... you said you were going to take me? Are you going to shoot me?” Pittsburg huskily teases as she rolls her sensual hips back and throws herself forward atop of you. That bounty-filled chest cushions her landing, presses the creamy canyon of her cleavage in your face before she playfully wiggles her hips to twist and coil your flesh with a fresher sensation. Your revolver is snug in her holster and you’re face to face with your opponent- eye-to-eye - and you can see the desire burning in them.
“Shoot it.” she whispers, daring you to draw first. Her breath smells like cherries and booze, her words poison the very soul to steal away all virtue, her teeth nip at your bottom lip like she’s trying to force a negligent discharge.
The tell-tale swell, the painful throb, the moment where the finger’s tensed on the trigger and the hand is quivering-
“Bang~” she steamily whispers, throwing that fine ass back one final time, thrusting your entire pleasure-wracked length into her coiling, constricting flesh until the hammer of her womb strikes your firing pin hard and deep.
Your six-shooter goes off one final time, stuffing Pittsburgh to the point that, as she howls in delight, you can feel the overflow squeeze and dribble from her wild bucking and thrashing atop you. The gray-haired “outlaw” quakes with a delightful climax, her flesh trying to milk you for all your worth while she’s got you pinned to the floorboards. She takes everything you’ve had to give, and it's clear that you are both satisfied with the outcome when she leans back, brushing her stuck bangs out of her face.
“Heehee… That’s six~” Pittsburgh says triumphantly as she sits up to tower over you. From the shoulders down she outlines her voluptuous frame with her hands, the fertile hourglass of her feminine figure only further highlighted in the sunset coming through the dusty windows as she traces down between her breasts and across her belly. Like a pair of dousing rods, her fingertips come to a stop where the fertile, life-giving spring is- exactly where your manhood had tapped and drilled her.
Pittsburgh lifts herself from your lap, sucking in a deep breath and holding it as her hand rubs her lower abdomen. You can see her abs and thighs tense, her petals clenching despite them still pulsing with pleasure while she savors your particular “juice” warming her belly. She seems to be waiting for something, looking intently down at herself-
And all at once, she relaxes with a slow and deep exhale, a tender smile sliding onto her face. It is peaceful, almost lovingly pure… if she didn’t immediately follow it with a slip of a finger between her bottom lips to remark;
“Wow, the last bullet is still in there. You win, Commander... God, there's something fascinating about you. Just looking at you gets my mind racing... Time for you to take responsibility, Commander~”