bumpnrun

fun size

alternate plan

interior dementions

bump

Furious Backdoor Interaction

Fondled By Inmates

Female Body Inspector

Baby trap

speed boat

cooking oil

Boobs rubbed

cum soaked

sweat stained

cum covered

Black eye

Back seat

Hot teacher

Dark meat

race car

slow dance

lap dog

Warm thoughts

Perfect Playmate

Sweat trickled down his neck as Rex Martin sat his horse in the brush below the hot mid-morning sun. The bounty hunter had become the hunted, or at least it seemed. He had been listening intently for the last twenty minutes as well as watching his horse’s every move. Several times the horse’s ears pricked up and his haunches tightened, telling Rex something was out there. Four days prior, it had been a quick stop in Eagle Butte to rest his horse and resupply. He kept his ear to the ground and learned that the three hombres he was after had been through the area a week before. A day later he was back on the trail, casting wide circles looking for signs of their passing. During this process of looking for a trail of three fast moving horses, he discovered a lone track that was fresh. Probably just some lone puncher looking for strays, he thought, but the lone track going the same general direction puzzled him. Backtracking that single horse, Rex found where it had stood for some time watching him. Another day went by and he rose early. Making a fire of dry wood no bigger than his hands, he made his morning coffee and had some jerked meat. Taking his coffee, he walked a little ways from camp to scout the terrain ahead. It was then that he spotted what seemed like a little wisp of fog in the distance. Except it was too hot and dry for fog. He knew someone had just smothered a small campfire and what had appeared to be fog was smoke. Now wary, the third day found him circling around several times to check his back trail. It was then that he thought he saw the quick reflection of sunlight off something shiny. Perhaps a shiny button on a saddle or a rifle barrel. What worried Rex the most was that in another day he would be leaving the wooded area he was in and heading into open country. He didn’t want to be watching his back with three tough hombres out in front of him. The saddle creaked as he shifted his weight and his horses ears pricked up again. This time Rex heard it too. Just a little shuffling sound like a squirrel digging through some leaves looking for something to eat. But something else was troubling him, he hadn’t seen a bird anywhere in the last fifteen minutes. It was deathly quiet except for the occasional sound of and insect buzzing around. Rex slid his hand up his thigh and eased the loop off the hammer of his Colt. Resting a hand on the butt, he started to slowly turn his head when something suddenly slammed into the back of his head. His brain saw a brilliant flash of light then all went dark. Muscle memory sent his hands to the pommel of his saddle as the feeling of falling overtook him. How much time went by he did not know but Rex Martin woke with a splitting head ache. He did not open his eyes but listened intently as he tried to get his bearings. His legs were sprawled out in front of him and his back seemed to be against a tree. His arms were pulled behind him and his wrists were bound with thin rawhide rope. Slowly he opened his eyes to mere slits. His big roan was picketed with a smaller gray horse across a twenty foot clearing in the trees. In the middle of the clearing was his saddle, boots, hat, gun belt, and his gear. Next to it, sitting on a saddle, was a young woman with a double barrel shotgun pointed right at him. “Bout time you woke up,” she ventured, her voice as hard as the ground he lay on. “If yer after my poke, it’s in my saddle bags…but you already got that, don’t you?” “Yeah, I had a look at yer poke an it ain’t much…I think ya got more.” Planting the butt of her shotgun on the ground, she got to her feet in a quick cat-like move. Rex looked at the young woman dressed in rough frontier clothes. He noticed a six gun struck in her waist band and he decided she probably knew how to use it. “I think that belt yer wearing looks a little thicker than it should…now we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I’m gonna have a look at that belt… GIT UP.” Her soft steady voice suddenly became as dark as her leather tanned skin as she pointed the shotgun at his stomach. Rex slowly worked his feet under him and backed his way up against the tree. Her lips parted slightly, but the little half-smile she gave sent shivers up Rex’s spine. Setting her shotgun down by her saddle, she walked around him and behind the tree. Suddenly rex’s arms were yanked back even tighter as she removed all chance of his movement. Coming around the front of the tree she reached behind her and yanked out a knife from her waistband, the blade singing as it left its sheath, “Now Mr. Martin, we’re gonna have a little fun. Yeah, I know who you are.” Stepping close, she slid the point of the blade under his top shirt button and gave it a little flick, the button disappeared. “I saw you in Eagle Butte and I just had to know who you were, especially after I saw you coming out of Maggie’s Brothel. Them two bit whores loved to talk after I loosened their lips with a little whiskey. Said you had a big poke. Said they seen it. Now I’m gonna see it.” The knife suddenly flashed and the last four shirt buttons hit the ground. With the point of her knife she pried his belt from its loop. Her free hand gave it a yank and it fell open. Her knife flashed again and the buttons of his fly were gone. Putting the knife back in its sheath, she turned to him once more. “Moment of truth Mr. Martin.” Her rough trail hardened hands sunk deep in his britches and fished out ten full inches of hardening cock and a double handfull of sweaty balls. “Them whores were right, Mr. Martin, that’s quite a poke you got, and now it’s mine!”

Perfect storm