John Henry Bain Bounty Hunter
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The Bounty Hunter free porn video
The Bounty Hunter
By Clara Ann Claymore
It was a hot, dry day in Goldthwaite. Nothing much ever happened
there. There might be a sand storm or maybe a calving and once a
week, the stage would come in from Brownswood. The horses and riders
would ride down the main street, leaving little tornadoes of dust in
their wake.
Johnny was delivering some bags of flour and salt to the stage depot
when he saw Jethro, the depot dog, lift up his head and perk up his
ears. Johnny yelled out to the depot master as he walked in the door,
"The stage from Brownswood must be a coming, Jethro has just moved
for the first time this week!" The station master took the bags from
Johnny and set them on the cupboard by his pot bellied stove.
He checked his watch and walked over to the peg on the wall by the
door. He slicked back the few grey hairs on his head and retrieving
his cap from the peg, loosely sitting it on his head. He walked out
the door onto the boardwalk, sliding his hands along the waistband of
his trousers and then gave the trousers a big upward tug. He squinted
as he looked up the street to the northwest. There was small cloud of
dust off in the distance. The stage was on time.
He walked over to the rain barrel and took the gourd cup off the
nail and dipped it into the water. Water dribbled down the front of
his shirt as he took a drink from the cup, swished it around in his
mouth and spit it through the split in his teeth onto the dusty
boardwalk. Moving down the steps, he stopped at the bottom and leaned
against the pole supporting the awing over the boardwalk. A dark spot
appeared on the road leaving a dust tail like a comet does in the
sky. The stage grew progressing larger as it came closer to town and
then you could hear the beating of the horse's hoofs. The noise from
the wheels and the tack grew as the stage came closer until it
finally stopped in front of the depot with a cloud of dust following
it, then engulfing it.
The depot master moved towards the door as he reached for the
handle. He opened the door and looked in, then stepped back so that
the lady could exit the stage. He couldn't see her face at first as
she was wearing a large brimmed, red satin hat that matched her red
satin dress. The dress had a deep, square cut opening for a neck line
that allowed her breasts to push up and almost out of the satin
prison. He knew who she was, she had been here before. She always
came on the stage then was gone by the next day. He held out his hand
to help her down.
She reached into the stage and pulled out her travel bag and
umbrella. Her head had been down, but she raised it a little and
looked just under the brim of the hat at the smithy across the street
at the blacksmith shop. He looked directly at her and seemed to nod
just slightly at her before going back to pounding on a glowing horse
shoe sitting on his anvil. She swished around and in one move popped
open her umbrella and landed it on her shoulder. The depot master
watched her puffed up bustle and big red bow as she strolled over to
the saloon.
She slowly closed her umbrella then pushed the swinging half doors
to the saloon open. As she walked into the saloon she kept her eyes
on the bartender, but she knew that every other eye in the place was
on her, watching her, watching her bustle and bow. She walked up to
the bar tender and asked,"May I have a sarsaparilla and room number 4
for the night, please?" Taking her sarsaparilla, she moved to the
little round table that sat at the foot of the stairs. There was a
window behind the table and she sat with her back to it, knowing that
it was too bright for any one to see her face while she sat there.
As she sipped her sarsaparilla, she slowly surveyed the room while
looking just under the edge of her hat brim. He wasn't there, but
then she really didn't want him to be, yet. Night always covered a
multitude of sins. Finishing her drink, she picked up her bag and
umbrella and moved up the stairs.
She always stayed in room number 4. It had a big posted bed, was
quiet and most importantly, it was at the end of the hall, next to
the door to the outside stairs. The routine was simple. She put her
umbrella and bag on the dresser by the door, opened the bag and took
out four lengths of rope. Walking over to the bed stand, she put the
rope in the top drawer and closed it again. Next, the covers were
ripped off the bed and thrown into the far corner. Finally, she
lifted up her skirt and running her hands across her lacy bloomers,
pushed them down and stepping out of them with one foot and then she
flung them with the other foot across the room right into the open
bag. Now all she had to do was wait.
The bright square of light coming through the window had made its
trek across the room and was slowly diminishing on the far wall. The
light slowly dimmed until she had to light the lanterns on the walls.
She could hear the gay piano music and the voices and shouts of the
men below. It was time. Removing the hat pin, she placed the hat on
one of the bed post and pushed the pin back into the same hole. Her
hair fell down around her shoulders as she flicked her head.
Quietly, she left the room, walked down the hall to the stairs and
slowly descended down them. She saw him as soon as her head cleared
the bottom of the top floor. He was seated at a table across the
room, playing cards with three other rough looking men. They all had
on their hats and guns; while their hand rolled, cigarettes dangled
in their mouths or lay on the edge of the table. She floated across
the room, placed one hand on the arm of his chair, bent down so that
he could have a good look at her bulging breasts and said,"Are you
going to play cards all night?"
Not waiting for an answer, she turned around and worked her bustle
and bow as she walked back to the stairs. She gave him a coy look
over her shoulder as she climbed up them. He pushed up the brim of
his hat with one finger as he watched her go. "Well, I guess you guys
will just have to deal me out!"
He made it to the top of the landing as she was opening the door to
room number 4. When he made it into the room, she walked over and
undid his gun belt, re-buckled it and hung it on the bedpost closest
to the wall. She came back and started undoing the buttons on the
front of his trousers, her hand with the red painted nails, slipped
through the opening and brought out his dick. It smelled of days on
the range, riding hard in the saddle. She knew that she had to do it,
but was not really looking forward to this one.
She got down on her knees, to this dick in one hand, but stop short
of putting it in her mouth. He grabbed her head with both hands and
shoved her face into his crouch. It tasted really bad at first, but
then she got to work like an old pro. She used one hand at the base
of his dick to hold the blood so that it would continue to get
bigger. She worked the shaft in and out, stopping at the rim of the
tip, so she could use her lips on the very inside edge of the head
and her tongue on the tip, flipping it across the top. He was really
close to coming, when she pulled her head away, clamped down really
tight with her hand and said, "Are you ready for some real fun?"
She led him by his dick to the edge of the bed, undid his trousers
and pushed him back to fall on the bed. Not wanting him to wither,
she took his dick in her mouth again and worked on it for a minute,
then looked up at him, with his dick still in her mouth. Lifting her
head, she said, "Are you ready?" He couldn't talk, he just nodded his
head ?yes'. She crawled across him so she could reach the drawer,
slid it open and took out the rope. First she tied his hands to the
top bed posts and then his booted feet to the bottom ones. He just
looked at her grinning. She got up on her knees, straddling him,
reached to the edge of her skirt with both hands and lifted it up. He
started yelling as he looked at her huge dick! She didn't care; no
one could hear them with all of the noise downstairs.
She positioned herself over the wet, glistening dick and slowly
lowered her anus over it. She used a slow, rocking movement of her
hips to work the dick inside her, going down a little further with
each downward rock. Finally, she had it totally inside her. Now, she
started gliding up and down the hard shaft, slowly up and with a
forceful thrust, all the way down. She started pulling up until her
anus was just at the very edge of the bottom his dick head. Then, she
would tighten up and just barely move up and down a little. Pulling
up, she could feel the edge come out of her anus and then would let
it come totally out, just to tease him.
Wham! She slammed her ass all the way down on top of his dick until
it bottomed deep inside her again. He was so ready! Now, she just
moved her ass up and down about an inch, keeping him deep as she
worked to get him to come. She could feel the pulsing in his dick as
his fluid flowed inside her. She timed her movements so that she was
all the way down every time he squirted. He was finished, but she
kept moving on his dick. She knew how sensitive it would be just
after coming, but she didn't care. She needed him to come again. They
get so docile after they came twice and she wasn't in the mood to
fight him. Besides, she hadn't come yet herself.
She started moving up and down his shaft again. It was a lot
slipperier now and she used that to her advantage. Slowly moving up,
working the head with her anus, and then slamming home. It took a
little time and she was starting to get tired, but his dick was
filling up with blood again and getting really hard. She was going to
come now, too. As he grew and filled her, she worked even more on the
head of his dick, teasing him to the brink. He started pulsing, but
she kept going up and down because she could feel her own orgasm
building. He was really filling her now, but she didn't stop pounding
him. Finally, she came, squirting her cum all over the inside of her
skirt and on his stomach.
She collapsed on top of him but she didn't loose control. She
reached up with her right hand and took his gun out of the holster
and whacked him on the side of his head, knocking him out. She let
the gun slide back home into the holster. Sliding off of him, she
planted her feet on the floor and went to retrieve her bloomers. Once
the bloomers were in place, she checked her image in the dimly lit
mirror. After untying him from the bed, she flipped him over and tied
his hands behind his back and his feet together. Then she got her hat
and his holster and put them into her flowered carpet bag. She pulled
a bandana from the bag and flipped it between her fingers to make a
tube, which she used to gag him. She lowered the light coming from
the lanterns and then reached over and unlocked the door. She stuck
her head out into the hall very slowly to check that the way was
clear, and then quietly closed the door.
She went back to the bed and flipped him again, so he was laying on
his back She grabbed the neck of his shirt with her right hand and
pulled him up to a seated position, then flipped him up and over her
shoulder. Turning, she walked to the door, picked up her bag and
umbrella and opened the door. The hall was still clear, so she turned
her back to the music and noise and went down the dark hall to the
door that opened to the outside stairs. Carefully, she made her way
down the dark stairs to the horse and wagon waiting at the bottom.
She flipped him into the bed of the wagon, pushing him up so she
could close the tail gate. She covered the back of the wagon with the
tarp and placed her bag and things on the seat of the wagon.
Climbing up to the seat and releasing the wheel brake, she took the
reins and got the horse moving. The wagon quietly moved up the ally
and into the street, headed to Brownswood. She rode on into the
night, knowing that she probably had about seven hours until his
friend, if you want to call them that, would know that he was
missing. As the dark was being replaced by the pale yellowish light,
she stopped, got down and went to the back of the wagon. She dropped
the tailgate and tossed the tarp back, revealing the confused bank
robber laying there. She grabbed his boot and pulled him to the edge
enough for his feet to hit the ground, then stood him up. She reached
into his trousers and pulled out his dick. She could still smell
herself on it. She let him pee, then pushed him back into his hiding
place and covered the wagon with the tarp again.
It was about eleven o'clock when the wagon stopped in front of the
Marshall's Office in Brownswood. She climbed down from the wagon and
retrieved a rolled up piece of paper and his gun belt from her bag.
She pushed the tarp back, untied his feet and pulled him to the
ground. She kept him covered with his own gun and she marched him
into the Marshall's Office. Twelve hundred dollars was a lot of money
for a bank robber, but then twelve hundred dollars was a whole lot of
money, well worth it to her. She took her voucher and got back on the
wagon. She stopped at the bank just a little ways up the street form
the Marshall's Office.
She had been there so many times before that they knew what to do.
They gave her one hundred dollars in ten dollar gold pieces, put one
hundred in her account and make arrangement for the last thousand to
go to a numbered account in the Bank in Austin. She got back on the
wagon and rode down to the Livery Stable, where her adventure has
started.
You see, she had spent a lot of time going from town to town, where
she knew that the outlaws would hold up, buying wagons and horses
>from the blacksmiths. They would keep them there and could use or
hire them out, as long as they were ready when she needed them. The
blacksmith would take the rig to the bottom of the stairs wherever
she was staying just after dark and leave them there. A couple of
days latter, the stable boy form some Brownswood blacksmith would
bring the rig back with a ten dollar gold piece.
She drove the wagon into the open door of the stable and climbed
down as the stable boy took the reins. She went over to the
blacksmith and gave him two ten dollar gold pieces, one for him and
the other one for the blacksmith in Goldthwaite. The stable boy
brought her horse that she left there three day ago, brushed out and
fed. He had already tied her bag and umbrella with the leather
strings to the back of her saddle. She tipped him eight bits. She
swung up into the saddle and road off towards Indian Gap.
She was about ten miles from Indian Gap when she stopped in the
trees next to a small stream. She got down and untied her bag from
the saddle. She dumped every thing out of the bag onto the grass in
the shade of the tree. She had the bag specially made in Austin, with
flowers on the carpet part that faced out and black leather on the
inside, but it could be turned inside out and used as a man's bag.
She took off the red satin dress, rolled it up and put it and the
hat into the bag, now wearing its black skin. She took a bath in the
cool stream and air dried in the shade as she ate a little hard tack
and beef jerky. He got up and put on his socks, trousers and boots,
then shook out his large flannel shirt that covered his breasts so
well and put it on. He retrieved his felt hat from the ground and
used his fist to push out the top and then fixed the brim. He swung
up on his horse after tying the black bag back onto the saddle and
rode off towards Indian Gap. He got home about six that evening, came
inside the house and gave his wife five gold pieces. She was
expecting him and had is dinner ready. She hated when he made these
business trips but he always made money on them, so she never said
anything.
The next morning, he got up and put on his clothes. His wife had his
breakfast ready for him, two eggs with ham and grits. After
breakfast, he moseyed down to see his friends at the Sheriff's
Office. His favorite chair was there waiting for him, he pulled out
his knife and sat down. He used the communal wet stone to sharpen his
knife, then reached into the old coffee can for a piece of wood to
whittle on, while he waited for the next wanted poster to come.
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