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The whistle of the train chugging along on the track woke up Zeria from her light slumber. The last couple of days had been pulling a strain on her that had her sleeping without even intending to. The train ride started two days prior in New Jersey and was currently in Texas. No sleep and being in a god forsaken cart with an older gentleman across her in the same department had her at the end of her nerves. She was hot, sweaty, and ready to simply get up and walk around at the next stop in Reno, Nevada. She was debating on whether or not to hold off the next part of the trip and just staying one night at a hotel in Reno, just so she got one night to relax before starting the tutoring job for the Wilsons.
The train jerked forward and then the cart shifted forward with the inertia of trying to stop so fast. What in the hell? Zeria looked down the hall and noticed other patrons leaning out to see what the stopping was for. The trains braking continued to squeal as it slowed down. Zeria sat back. What if she didn’t make it to the Wilsons. Would anyone even care? The Wilsons had enough money they could easily have another tutor on the way in before she was even figured missing. Her husband had been gone for six months, and she was honestly, tired of wearing the black… but proper attire was required of her.
She thought back about her husband. George had been a great man, in public around others. In person he was a royal asshole and didn’t know when to keep the bottle closed and in the cabinet. It really shouldn’t surprise her that he ended up with a bullet between his eyes from starting a fight in the west with a gunslinger over cheating poker. Zeria sighed, now this shit. She had seriously had it with everything over her head and out of her grasp. But though she came from a well to do family, they wanted nothing to do with her since her husband had ruined those bridges with his drinking, and his gambling. He just kept it quiet and out of sight until he had her under his body and her signature on a paper officially saying they were husband and wife in the eyes of the law and the church. When her father had found out, he accused her of helping George out and had disowned her from ever being on their lands. That had hurt worse then realizing that George had used her simply for her dowry. The money had vanished so quick that she ended up having to get a job to support them. All the money from sewing dresses and patching things up for others went down the gullet of George in form of liquid fire. Eventually, she couldn’t support them anymore so she got another job, this time she was washing laundry. Finally, George got into a lot of trouble with the town gangster and decided to head west, saying he would send her out when he had landed a job and a home. He never did. He got shot on the first night he stepped foot into Arizona. Zeria rolled her eyes in the cart. What an idiot.
The train finally came to a stop, dust settling outside. The temperature in the cart slowly was rising now that the slight breeze wasn’t coming through the windows and circulating around the rooms. A gunshot and a groan came from the front of the car, leaning out trying to see past the older gentleman in the same cart as her, she saw three masked men walking into the cars, a bag out collecting jewelry and valuables with a gun at their occupants. The train conductor was sitting on the ground with his partner sitting next to him holding a bloody rag to his gut. The man was sweating profusely and groaning. Zeria grabbed her bag and put her cash onto her seat, grabbing the gentleman next to her, hand. Quietly, she whispered, “When they come in, give them this, say it’s all I have, that I’m your niece. Claim I’m a mute as my… dad died. Anything to get them to let me go take care of the conductor. I can help. Please.” The older gentleman looked down at her, and nodded. His chocolate eyes nervously sliding side to side.
Zeria sat back and folded her hands into her lap, she had her sewing and medical kit with her from her time learning how to nurse… and she planned to get the conductor back into shape. The men were getting closer and she slid her mourning veil over her eyes and bowed her head. The first man passed them, continuing on, but the second and the third were talking to the gentleman about her.
“Give us whatever valuables you have, as well as any money.” He grunted out.
“Sir, my niece and I have only this money back, my pocket watch, and her jewelry.” His voice trembling. He at least stated the instructions.
“I’m sure she has to have something more… she’s dressed nice, why doesn’t she speak?”
Zeria gulped. He would speak it correct right? “Her father just died a couple of days ago. She has taken a vow of silence for her mourning period. She used most of her jewels and valuables to get the black clothing.” Smart thinking he was!
“Hmmm…. fine then. Stay seated.”
He continued on, only to stop to hear the gentleman gasp out, “Sir, my niece has nursing experience, dikmen escort would you please have the mercy to let her take care of the conductor…” his voice trailing off in hesitation. The man nodded and continued on. She looked up when they continued down the hall collecting more and more items. Grabbing her bag she whispered, “Thank you, kind sir.”
Walking down the aisle she knelt next to the gentleman lying on the floor. His partner was still pressing the blood filled rag into the wound. Opening up the bag, she grabbed the long tweezers, and the rubbing alcohol in there. She pulled my gloves off her hands, setting them to the side, and then grabbed a new rag from the bag. Pulling the veil off she set it next to the gloves as well as rolling the long sleeves up and out of the way. Pouring the rubbing alcohol on her hands and quickly rubbed them dry, suddenly she knew the conductor and her were not the only ones there.
“And just what do we have here?” The voice was warm as melted caramel. She shivered in fear and in something else. Excitement? She glanced up and pointed to her mouth and tried to mime that she didn’t speak. The bandanna didn’t move the whole time and the green grass eyes looked at hers with a small twinkle in them.
“Well, I definitely understand that you have a beautiful mouth, gorgeous, but what are you doing?” She sighed. Pointing at the wound, she showed the tweezers, and rag… hoping that he would understand. Thankfully, he nodded. “Yeah, if you’re gonna help him, best get to it. If the others get done and you’re not back in your seat… I can’t promise the best of things.” She nodded her understanding and bowed her head in thanks.
Turning back to the wound she ripped the blooded fabric from the shirt and moved the partner’s hand and rag, telling him in silence she had it. The conductor shot was out cold, so she didn’t worry too much about pain management, instead grabbing the rubbing alcohol and splashing it on the wound. It turned white cleaning the wound and finally, she wiped the blood that had caked on, and squeezed the wound to release the alcohol. Before anything could wake the conductor, she shoved the tweezers into the wound and dug for the bullet. Finding the legendary clink of metal hitting metal, she squeezed the tweezers and pulled the bullet. Not budging she finally leaned forward onto the conductors body, circling her palm around the wound, and yanked the bullet forward to pull it out. Finally, with a grunt she got the bullet out and instantly dumped the rubbing alcohol into the wound. Holding the towel she pulled out she pressed into the wound to stop any flow of alcohol and blood from exiting. After extracting the bullet she dropped both tweezers and bullets onto the ground, and turned around to grab the wraps to close it with some gauze. Finally, she had the conductor help her sit him up and she tied the clothe around him securing it with a tight knot. Sighing, she used her sleeve to wipe her forehead off of the sweat beading there from the heat, and the stress. Suddenly, shouting in the back, and finally, two… three… four gunshot wounds. Both of the train robbers came running in, one holding his arm. The other two were following behind ready to get the hell of the train and gone.
The injured outlaw looked at her, saw her kit and her supplies, pointed at her looking at the outlaw next to her, saying, “Bring her.” She gasped. What?
Without a word, one of the robbers ended up grabbing her bag and the cowboy next to her, scooped her up over his shoulder as if she was a sack of potatoes. She frantically shook her head, finally pounding her fist into his back and kicking her legs. Without a warning a hand smacked down hard on her ass and she felt the familiar zing shoot from her ass straight to her cunt. Oh no, she thought. She grunted from the impact and finally started to really kick and make a scene. She did not want to go with a bunch of outlaws! If she got away the Wilsons would never want a ruined woman like her tutoring their precious children!
“Woman! I happen to like spanking that fine ass of yours, so you keep moving sweetheart.” His palm slammed down hard on her buttocks and made her squeal. The smacking was making her get wet, and she didn’t want it. Not in the slightest bit.
Without even a warning, they were out of the train, and onto his horse. With a grunt, he set her on her bottom on his lap. Holding her into his chest, with a shout, the boys were headed away from the train. She gripped onto his legs to stay seated with the horse running underneath her. The outlaws hand wrapped around her front and slid her closer to his center into his body heat. His scent was fresh, as if he had just used a scented soap just hours prior and the heat, felt like it was warm water sliding down her flesh. Her skin shivered, and the nipples hardened in the heat until she was sure they would know by looking at her dress, even with her corset and dress on.
They road for about an emek escort hour, stopping at a crick where there was a fire going, and two other cowboys sitting there making food. They must have stayed behind at camp. Coming to a stop the injured outlaw finally fell off his horse and was rushed by all but the cowboy holding her. He let her down and gave her back to the outlaw who grabbed her bag . Jumping off the horse giving him a pat on his side, he dragged her to the largest of four tents with the bag in one hand and her in the other. The injured man was lying on his side and his shirt was off. The injury was caked with blood, but had no longer been bleeding. Sighing, Zeria figured that they had expected her to fix him up. But how was she to get back to the train? They wouldn’t leave her would they?
“Well? Get to it!” The injured man whined. She looked around for her bag. Grabbing it from her outlaw driver, she bent down onto her knees, and started the cleansing process again to remove the bullet. The whole time she she kept her head down doing what was necessary. Looking up, she noticed all the outlaws were watching her as if suspicious of her.
Nodding again, she grabbed the rubbing alcohol, ready to pour it onto his wound, when she thought maybe she should have him have a couple strong drinks of something. Looking around, she found his whiskey bottle next to the bed stand… grabbing it, she placed it near his mouth. He looked at her and grimaced knowing what she was trying to say. Gulping a good ten gulps of the whiskey, he nodded. Lying back. She splashed the rubbing alcohol onto the wound and watched his chest expand in pain. Wincing she rubbed the dried blood off the would and got a closer look at it. It was a graze wound. No bullet, no anything to pull. Just cleaning, and a bandage. She dropped the tweezers into the bag, grabbing a fresh gauze and wrap and tied it tight. The cowboy had passed out during the tying.
Getting up, the outlaw that had her ride with him, took her to another tent, seating her on the small cot. He put her bag on the side next to her, then spoke, “Thank you. It doesn’t seem like much probably to you but he really is all we have to keep this group together.” His voice was the warm caramel it was on the train. She felt the wetness between her legs slide a little out of the lips and onto her inner thighs. Good God.
She nodded, speaking without thinking, “It’s okay.” Before she could react to the fact she let it loose she was not a mute like she had people thinking she was, he spoke, “And here I thought you were a mute… you know what happens to liars in this group, right?” He took his face mask off.
Her eyes widened, “I never said I was a mute. I simply had the gentleman in my cart say I was so I could give the conductor the necessary attention… and I never truly said it!” He smiled and shook his head, his white, straight smile enhancing his five o’clock shadow and the dimples in his cheeks.
“Omitting information is lying too.” He chuckled and walked over to her while taking his gun belt off. “For that, you’ll have to be punished.” She looked up into the shiny glare in his eyes. A slight bit of fear echoed back to his attention.
“What are you going to do?” She quietly stuttered out. She was sliding backwards away from him to keep the distance. When she hit the side of the tent, she watched him bend down to take his boots off, and right after not knowing he was planning it, grabbed her ankle and slid her back to him. She squealed in surprise. His hand on her ankle had streaks of hot heat sliding up her back into her breast and making her breath faster.
Once she was under him with her head around hip height to him, he asked, “Are you seriously mourning your father or something else?” She looked down.
“I’m wearing black for my husband.” He stopped unfastening his pants, as if rethinking his choice. But deep inside she knew she wanted him. His bulk in the front of his pants was quite a bit larger then George had been… and she wanted to know. “He wasn’t worth calling it mourning for.” Finally, he nodded. A smile returned to his face.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to comfort you the only way I know… how does that sound sweetheart?” She gulped shaking her head no. He ignored her, using his belt to tie her wrist together.
“Please, don’t do this. I really don’t need comforting. Please. Don’t.” His expression darkened a little at her pleading, but he shook his head.
“Woman, I might be using you to my advantage… but I will at least make sure you get yours too.” With that he tied the other end of the belt to the tent support in the center. The rod left about ten feet around in a circle for the occupants. Setting a group of pillows and blankets on the buckskin on the ground, he scooped her up and set her on them. Pulling off his clothes, he stood naked for all of her eyes to feast on.
His body was amazing. Slender, but very fit and muscular. He was tan everywhere except eryaman escort the light skin around his hips and below. His chest hair was thick, but kept close to his skin as if he kept it trimmed and neat. The trail slid all the way down to around his cock circling it and just dusting around his testicles. She gulped. He looked a hell of a lot better than George did even with the multiple scars littering his skin. Looking back up at him, he was smiling. Knowing she had fulling checked him out. With a chuckle, he grabbed a knife and before Zeria could say anything, cut the top of the dress and petticoat she had to the foot of it, and slicing the arms so she was in corset and stockings. With a squeal she slid towards the pole hiding her lower body to his sight.
Tossing the dress aside he grabbed her ankles and she felt herself melt without resistance under his body. His face was next to hers and she wanted to just moan with the desire settling into her tummy. Why was she liking this and what was wrong with her?
The outlaw finally ended up whispering into her ear with her struggle ongoing. “Let go, you know you want it just as much as I do. I see the flush coming up from your breast to your face. Why fight it?” She struggled more so.
Finally, tired of dealing with her fighting, he grabbed her legs and spread them so the hot, dry air caressed her moist lips. Zeria groaned and finally lost her ability to struggle. The outlaw looked down at the moist little pocket and grinned. “See? We can enjoy this.” With her legs in his hands he flipped her over and untied her corset. The position left her ass in the air to his viewing and he could see the small little hole he knew he would end up fucking before the time was over. Zeria looked around her shoulder at him flipping her hair back and finally spoke, “Please, I really don’t want this. I haven’t been with anyone in so long and my husband wasn’t able to take care of me properly.” Her admission floored him.
“Well sweetheart, I will make sure it is worth it. Fair?” She finally dropped her head to the ground in defeat.
“Fair.” The corset finally slipped off and he reached around and rolled the stocking down her legs until she was as naked as the day she was born. The outlaw flipped her back over so he could look upon her front completely nude and memorize her flesh. Without a warning, he slid her down to the end of the rope and forced her arms upward to the give… she couldn’t wiggle away from him now.
Zeria moaned. The burn in her pussy was simply swamping her and making her wish to fall into it. Just to sink below the waves and stay below them. And why shouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if anyone was going to truly miss her. Or know….
“If you’re going to have your way with me at least promise to make sure I get mine?” She decided to go with it… if she was going to be ravished she wanted her end of the stick well worn in too.
“My dear, you’re gonna get yours and more alright.” He pushed his hips to her naked pussy and rubbed against her core. The wetness seeping continuously from her pussy had her moan and extend her throat to his mouth. With a snap, he latched onto her collar bone, licking at the salt and slowly sliding his mouth down to her right breast. With the nipple in mouth, he laved at it like it would give water to a dying man. Zeria moaned again and extended her head back just soaking in the feeling of his mouth on her. Slowly she opened her legs letting him settle between them. Sucking in air he slowly made his way down her body until he was right next to her quim.
“Uh… uhm, I need to call you something. Stop, two seconds.” She barely got the words out. He was blowing on her pussy cooling it, and then warming his breath up and warming it. It felt fantastic… but she needed more. She wiggled her ass back and forth and unconsciously raised her hips to him.
“Darling, you can call me whatever you like any other time but here in this tent when I fuck you… you call me Grant. Fair?” His voice was stone hard like his cock was. He felt like he was going to explode but he wanted to bury his face in her legs knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop him from enjoying her too.
“Oh, okay, Grant… please… please…..” Her begging got to where she wanted it. He dropped his mouth right onto her core and lightly sucked on her clit. She felt like she was going to explode. Sitting her head back she closed her eyes and spread her legs even more so. “Yesssss, just like that, do that Grant, please…” He smiled between her legs and started to lick at the inner labia of her pussy and tongue fucking her. He pulled his hand from around her leg to two fingers pumping into her plump lips while he licked circles around her clitoris. She moaned louder. As enthralled as she was she couldn’t hear the men outside laughing and mimicking her sounds. S
With the sound of her cunts juices and his hand smacking together, it was inevitable she would cum. In a matter of seconds his face was a wet as if he had just come in from the desert after running miles and miles. He wiped his face with his other hand, and sat forward toward her cunt with his cock. She was still star struck with the orgasm that when she finally came around, he was shoulder to shoulder with her.
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