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That trip back to the North farm had reminded me how much I hated the Comanches, so I wanted to start back to hunting them right away. My wives (that sure sounds good to me) were happy when I said that I would be gone all day. They had a lot of things to do on the house to turn it into their idea of home, and I would have just been in the way. We kissed goodbye as I left to go hunting: Comanches or outlaws, I really did not care which one came up first.

I headed for the Comanche camp and was about an hour on the trail when I heard a lot of shooting from more than one gun. This had to mean big trouble, so I hurried to find out what was going on. I topped a little ridge and saw what was causing the trouble: a wagon was under attack by a dozen or so Comanches. There were two men and a woman in the wagon, and, as I watched, one of the men was hit by an arrow in the back. From even my distance, I could tell that it was a fatal wound, but the man was going to need some time to die.

The Comanches let out a cheer at the sight of the wounded man and started pressing harder on the remaining man. The woman was trying to help the wounded man, and the drop in fire coming from the wagon was making the Indians even bolder as they pressed their attack. That was all I needed to see!

I pulled out my shotgun and rode toward the ring of Comanches. I do not know if they saw me or not, but they certainly ignored me as I rode closer. I did not slow down as I rode into the ring of horsemen circling the wagon. As soon as I reached the Comanches, I fired one barrel of my shotgun, and that brought down two horses and the associated riders. As soon as I had the shotgun under control, I fired again and took down two more horses and riders.

Four men down in that short an interval got the attention of the Comanches real fast. They turned away from the wagon and toward me. I was guiding my horse with my knees so that I was able to reload my shotgun while I rode away from the wagon. As soon as I had reloaded, I turned back toward the Comanches who were chasing me and rode directly toward them. Foolishly, they put aside their bows and took up their lances. They now were sure of victory over me, and were trying to be the first to reach me so that the first man to me could claim victory.

Well, I had a surprise for them: I returned to guiding my horse with my knees and aimed the shotgun at the approaching Indians. By now, they were only about 30 yards away, and I fired one barrel. Only one man when down this time, and his horse seemed to have escaped injury. The horse stopped as soon as its rider fell to the ground, and that broke up the cohesiveness of the charge. In a way, that made as much trouble for me as for the Indians because it made my selected target move in an unexpected direction.

I tried for him anyway, and that was a mistake: this time, my shot accomplished nothing to help me, and my shotgun was now empty. I was now in trouble as I picked up the reins with my left hand while I hung my shotgun over the saddle horn. I drew the revolver from my right-side holster and aimed at the closest Comanche. I guess that my luck had returned because I hit what I was aiming at when I fired. The Comanche fell to the ground and distracted a couple of his fellows.

I now saw that I was facing eight Comanches, and that was a ratio that was going to cause me trouble if I did not pay close attention to what was all around me. I did not dare to allow them to surround me, but that was going to be very hard to do with eight men trying to head my way. All I could do was dodge whenever an enemy got close and hope that my horse held out. Without him, I was certainly dead!

I still had five shots left in my current revolver. Thank God, I had managed to pick up the newly converted Starr DA before making this venture to look for trouble, so I had another six shots available before I had to switch to the single-action Colts with five cartridges per gun. My next shot was forced, and I missed the Indian; dammit, I could not afford to waste shots!

I did plug the next Indian that I fired at, and that did make me feel a little better. I now had "only" seven opponents trying to kill me. Somehow, I did get separated from the Comanches long enough for me to holster my revolver and to reload my shotgun. Now, I felt more confident because of the added effectiveness of the shotgun over the revolver in a mounted fight.

The swirl of running horses in the chaos of the battle suddenly presented me with a chance that I could not refuse. Three Comanches charged at me in a sort of V formation. I raised the shotgun to my shoulder and aimed at the lead rider. When the range looked right, I fired both barrels at the same time. That meant that 24 pellets of .32 caliber were flying at three Comanches and three horses. They were close enough to me that there was no perceptible delay between the shots and the impacts. All three horses when down, and all three riders were killed as a result.

The shock of this calamity among the Comanches gave me time to reload my shotgun, and I was now back on the hunt. I was still holding the shotgun in my right hand as I turned toward the rest of the Comanches who happened to be collected close together. In a fit of foolish (childish?) bravado, I charged the remaining Comanches and actually yelled out a war cry. I had never done that before, and I cannot imagine what came over me at that time, but the result was effective: all of the remaining Comanches turned tail and rode away as fast as their horses would carry them.

I paused long enough to reload my revolver and to attach a lead rope to two of the Comanche horses that were not wounded. I did cut the throats of those horses that were wounded, but not yet dead. I was still pretty excited at this time, but I managed to remember to ride back toward the wagon where all of this had started.

By the time I got back to the wagon, the wounded man had died. The woman was very distraught, and the man was not very far behind. The wounded man had been their teenaged son. They had lost their ranch because they could not pay their taxes: all they had was paper money, and the taxes had to be paid in hard cash. The family had been headed toward New Orleans where the woman had relatives. They had little choice, and they would continue in that direction as soon as they could arrange a funeral in Oak Junction.

I picked up the loose Indian horse and added it to my lead rope. I then offered to ride in to Oak Junction with them in case they ran into any more Comanches. I had about all of the excitement that I could stand for one day, so I was ready to go home.

Back in Oak Junction, I sold the horses and headed home. Neither wife was there when I got home, so I headed to my favorite saloon. I spent a couple of hours there talking to the bartender and some of the customers. I managed to nurse through only one bottle of Mexican beer, and nobody noticed as far as I could tell.

As I rode home, I passed a vacant lot, and there was an altercation going on there. Two very large and tough looking galoots were giving a much smaller man a hard time. They were pushing him around and shouting crude epithets at him, but it looked like no physical blows had been exchanged as yet. The obvious imbalance between the two sides was more than I could stomach, so I trotted over to find out what was going on.

"Hey, what is the problem? You two guys have a legitimate beef, or are you just picking on somebody who is smaller than you?" The fact that I was pretty much the same size as the smaller guy was the main reason I had stuck my nose into somebody else's business.

"Beat it, Shorty. This ain't none of your business. Get lost before you get hurt."

"Oh, come, now, is that the way to treat someone who asked a civil question? I know that this is probably none of my business, but I hate to see somebody being picked on because he is too small to stand up for himself. It has happened to me too many times, and I really don't like it."

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Guys plz suggestion me in pms what should I write next. If you interested in writing let's do Collab ---- by your favourite Indian slut !! Plot Everything started with her death of our main character anusha's parents. She was very open minded and caring person in mind and heart. She may look like a typical Indian girl but in her mind she can be dirt bitch . Get quick temper and get emotional quickly . Then she felt lonely and depressed after her parents dead in accident. But somehow her...

INDIAN CUNT

As. Previously mentioned Daughter Christina,s best friend is Oona Khan of Indian ancestry though born in England. A very attractive twenty two year old when we got together. It was at a party hosted by both Oons and Chris at the house they rented together in east London. They,d invited a few friends as well as wife Sarah and me and with the exception of the Khans and us the rest were in their twenties. Oona,s parents were the first to have had enough and now it was only my wife and I who were...

Indian fertility clinic

A few years ago I accepted a foreign assignment with my company. I was to spend the better part of a year overseeing a construction project in Chennai India. The company put me up in a staff house in a nice part of town. At first the novelty of being in a strange land kept me occupied but over time i found myself with more time on my hands than I knew what to do with as a single guy. I decided to take up golf with a passion as there was a course I had often driven past on my way to the job...

Indian Couple Vacation in Goa

I'm Kevin, 29 years and my wife is Nisha, 26 years. We are a marred Indian couple, staying in India. We have been married for five years now and in those years sex has been mind blowing. Nisha loved to fuck, anytime and anywhere and she was never ever shy in admitting it. But, I was my desire to expose her in revealing clothes to other guys and also see her getting fucked. One day, I spoke this with her and after bit of hesitation, she agreed. But, she had a few conditions. One of her...

Indian Neighbors put on Window show

It is late. Mom used to say, "Nothing good happens after midnight." This story proves Mom was wrong~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~With the recent upsurge in summer heat, I went for my evening jog later than usual. I started at 11:15 and since it was my six mile day I wound up jogging into our quiet little dead end street about 12:20 a.m. I walked down the sidewalk drenched in sweat, heart pounding and a ton of endorphins flowing through me making me feel like anything was possible.I stopped at a...

Indian guy sucks a BBC on Miami Beach

This is a real story.A little about me. I am a 27 year old Indian guy. Decent looking. I live in San Francisco. I am str8 but have always wanted to please good looking white or black guys.This happened I went to Miami in Sep 2013 with a couple of other Indian friends. The very first night we all went to a club and got pretty drunk. I slipped out of the club and went to the beach. It was very dark and I started walking on the beach. While walking I saw a black guy sitting all by himself next to...

Indian sikh girl finds an Arab muslim cock to fuck

I had just moved to Bay Area, California for my new job. I was pretty lonely, so I posted an ad in the personals section of Craigslist. In a few hours, a girl named P. Kaur (withholding her full name) sent me an email. We exchanged a few emails and I sent her my pic and asked for hers. She told me she is from a very conservative family, so she is reluctant to send a pic. She said she would instead meet me at a bar that evening in Dublin.I was a little late for our date, so when I reached the...

Indian Actresses In Porn

Hello, My Dear Readers. I always wanted to write stories based on Indian actors. was my first attempt on the same. We have all imagined how our hot actresses will look in extreme erotic sequences. And with this new series, I am trying to portray our beloved cum-queens as professional adult stars, acting in porn movies. I will be adopting a template similar to galleries in porn sites, to write down this story. I will try my best to explain the sexual acts in detail, but also not drag them. So,...

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