Western Tail: Rear End of the West
The sweltering journey from Kansas to Colorado while heading to work as a postal agent and sutler at Fort Hayden left me yearning for a refreshing respite. The tantalizing Rocky Mountains were within reach, yet not within reach of the river's edge I aspired to reach. As I neared the water's edge, anticipating a cleansing dip, I knew I wouldn't make it to my destination that day.
Instead, I rode alongside the river for a couple of hours, enjoying my solitude and mulling over the next day's arrival at my new job - pristine and well-prepared. With the valley's outstretched invitation, a cool and crystal-clear river called out to me. I sought a peaceful area, a few steps from the roaring current, where a gentle downward slope led to a tranquil, calm stretch. Ideally, the site would also provide a spot for my horse, clothes, and supplies to dry.
The riverbank was lined with a scant grove of cottonwood trees -- perfect for tying up my horsey friend -- and a picturesque collection of rocky outcroppings that would provide optimal sun exposure for my dry gear. My bike was laden with essentials for camping, making it an effortless endeavor to find shelter and comfort in my temporary abode.
I tied off my companion in the muted cottonwood grove and provided him with a snack and water for survival. The rugged terrain provided ample refuge for me as I set up camp, ensuring my rifle secured against a tree to guard the grove. Next came the primary task - tidying myself up from the muck and mire of the dusty trail.
My nose crinkled in disdain at the horrid scents of my clothes. So, I decided to retire them for the night, scrubbing every inch of them before draping them on an arid, rocky surface to let the sun's rays perform their magic.
Stripping down to my unmentionables, I indulged in a naked swim within the welcoming cool waters. A splashing here, a hollering there, brought forth a few stern exhortations from the shores, reminding me I wasn't alone. The silence resumed, leaving me alone to relish the tranquility of my solitary blissful bath.
The song of a nearby horse caught my attention, causing me to frown. What I saw next gave me pause. A group of unsuspected guests - a small band of natives, all bearing exquisite rides - cavorted in the calm, paradisiacal surroundings. I couldn't fathom how long they had been there, peeping at my inebriated solitude. These untamed hunters sported a vast array of colors, the ringleader donning an unusual blend of feathers and turquoise beads suspended by silver wire over his chest.
My heart hammered. These weren't bloodthirsty warriors hunting for sport. This was a pack of renegade, carefree youths rumored to indulge in men and scared away by their tribes. The prospect of pinning down a solitary white man intrigued them no doubt.
Totally naked and vulnerable, I hesitantly approached the band, my arms raised in submissive greeting. However, I may have misjudged the situation. It's high time I acquainted myself with these colorful renegades. Not only am I at their mercy, but they may also be taking notice of what I'm packing between my legs. A war party, after all, has other intentions than a hearty handshake. I was reminded of the lurking specter of these wandering groups. Nicknamed 'cheerful Sioux,' these fellas perhaps doffed their armor in hopes of enticing their captive.
As the leader swiftly dismounted, he swiftly reduced the distance between us. One of the other band members joined the leader and doled out his weapon. Subsequently, the leader unraveled strings from his loincloth, causing it to fall to the ground. The sudden thought that crossed my mind was the disheartening realization that I came across a group of Indians who were directed towards me. My second thought, however, was that this particular Indian was quite adept in his abilities. His penis, which demonstrated this, was as imposing as the rest of his well-toned physique. And my third thought was that he likely derived great pleasure from my unintentional performance with the soap, as his erect member erect.
I was afraid that my penis had become aroused as well, given the handsome display before me.
Before I could consider a fourth idea, the tribe leader was upon me like a startled predator. The other four Indians swiftly debarked, subsequently forming a semi-circle around my location. The leader of the tribe wrapped his hand around my neck, bringing our lips together passionately. His other hand then clutched my balls and the base of my penis, resulting in tears trickling down my face. The pressure provoked me to my knees just as his mouth relinquished mine. He swiftly inserted his erect penis between my lips, which he promptly commenced thrusting in and out.
The leader was speedy and skilled at this act, evidenced by his harsh breathing. Meanwhile, the four other Indians had paired up and were more content. The lack of any sort of immediate danger ensued, and I could potentially seek an opportunity for escape. Recognizing that my resources were my rifle or horse were not within arms reach, the Indian leader's horse, an exquisitely beautiful golden palomino stallion, lay within my striking distance.
Rather than considering another action, I adopted my chance immediately. Admirably, I was already on top of the horse before the Indians had any time to pause. Thenceforward, my luck ceased. The Indian leader simply whistled, causing the horse to stop suddenly. I was convinced that I would be massacred, as the Indians leapt over to me with murder in their eyes. However, the Indian leader made an unforeseeable decision. Instead of terminating my life, he climbed up behind me on the horse, hooping that I relent. He then used a language the horse understood and we sprinted across the landscape simultaneously. The Indian, behind me, leaned forward and grabbed my wrists, forcing my hands into the horse's mane. His beaded breastplate dug into my back, while his raging hard cock rubbed my lower back as we were globetrotted across the rolling plain.
Fear dominated me, yet I also acknowledged that his persistent thrusting penis alongside my lower back was enflaming my senses. After enduring a short journey, he proclaimed his intentions. By flexing his powerful thighs, moving them in front of mine, he propelled me forward onto the neck of the horse, simultaneously tilting my pelvis upwards. As a consequence, the Indian's sizable member met my tightly closed anus, with a striking hollow sensation to say the least.
Our progression amplified the Indian's rhythm and promptly inflated my anus until it was sufficiently stretched to accommodate his member. The Indian grunted with acceptance, knowing that his anus was sufficiently prepared to facilitate his lust.
I realized that my resistance only aided in coercing me into accepting the inescapable act and I also recognized that I now aimed to make the best out of this situation. The Indian realized that he could entertain his desire in a swift and efficient manner. Therefore, my efforts to resist subsided and I surrendered to the torrential copulation, allowing my body to harmonize with the motion of the horse.
I wasn't simply being forced anymore. We were working together in this intercourse. It was pleasurable for both of us.
Imagining how distressing this would be for a straight man, I realized this encounter with these unconventional, lustful Indians was an experience I could only have delighted in. I decided to embrace the positivity amidst the danger.
The bronze hunk's anticipation had built, and as my body started to move with the rhythm, the horse's speed diminished until we came to a stop near the river, not far from where we had begun. The Indian's body covered me tightly on the horse, his breath matching mine. His cock was still deep inside me, but he reduced the intensity, no longer pounding me. He still had a firm grip on my wrists, and I held onto the horse's white hair. The horse's breathing was labored from the frenzy of the gallop, but it responded instantly to the Indian's incomprehensible orders. The horse stood motionless, its powerful legs rigid, and it remained that way until the bronze warrior commanded it to move once more.
Embracing me in his arms on the horse, the fearless warrior pressed his face to my neck, me trembling, beaten, raped in his embrace. He murmured something in a language I couldn't understand. I hoped he would spare me. Perhaps this meant he would rape me again.
It dawned on me then, this was his training method: he rode me until I was exhausted and gave in to his control. He knew he had fulfilled this objective. I pondered what would happen next, fearful for my life, but I decided that my only chance was to calm myself and submit to his desires. I had to pretend that I enjoyed him raping me, although deep down, I was undeniably aroused by it. Not only was he endowed with a fat, long penis, but he had a forceful, aggressive style of thrusting, and there was nothing more enticing than being raped by a macho, bronze savage. It was more about demonstrating and convincing him that I had submitted to his control.
He kissed me in the crook of my neck, and I tilted my head to find his lips. He smiled and looked pleased, and he pressed his lips against mine. He pushed my shoulders down onto the horse's back, and we were now hip-to-hip and cock-to-cock. With his hands, he had me grasp both cocks and stroke them together. He craved my involvement in the sex play, signaling submission. I obliged, fully cooperating with him. He massaged my chest and pinched and gently twisted my nipples, causing them to harden fully erect. I moaned for him and whispered, "Yes, yes, yes", something he probably could not understand but surely sensed the surrender in my tone. He was thicker and longer than I was, but we were both getting even harder in response to my stroking.
I'm convinced nothing told him I had surrendered to his will more than my quick attainment of another erection. He knew he had achieved his goal.
When he was satisfied with my submission, he pushed my hands away and began stroking me wildly with one hand. With the other hand, he fingered my anus. When I ejaculated, he cradled his hand over the head of my cock, capturing all the cum, and I watched as he smeared it over his cock and into my ass. The sensation was arousing, and when he then positioned himself under me, raised my hips off the horse, and looked at me expectantly, I obeyed his unspoken command and took his cock in my hands, guiding it into my anus.
He owned me. He knew it. I signaled acceptance.
With a victorious yell that echoed through the nearby red-rock cliffs, he pushed my hips against my pelvis, thrusting deep into me and viciously rocking his hips against me, wildly fucking me. The horse beneath us stood stock-still, trembling slightly, as I lifted my legs onto the Indian's shoulders and tucked my arms against the horse's side, maintaining a steady position.
This manly act was accompanied by another fierce yell, undoubtedly announcing his conquest to the other members of his tribe.
Soon enough, we were galloping back towards my makeshift camp, the Indian's massive erection still deep within me to prevent another escape attempt.
Upon return, my loyal horse whinnied, and my mare responded with her own whinny from where she'd been tied up near the riverbank. The Indian chief and I had set a frantic tone.
The young brave had no reason to question my loyalty, as the mighty fuck from the Indian had drained me physically and mentally. My only wish at this point was for the Indians to finish their plans for me, one way or another.
The four remaining tribesmen had been kept busy while we were gone and were in a savage frenzy. The idea of being saved for the chief was entirely dismissed. When we reached the encampment, I was shoved off my horse into the arms of a tribesman who appeared to be the second-in-command. This man, older than the chief, thinner, and more corded, had a impressively long dick. Without a second thought, he pushed me against a slowly rising rock structure where my now-dry clothes were drying. He grasped me by the throat and slammed my head into the rock, cushioned only by my towel, which ensured my resistance dissipated immediately. One of my legs was situated between my chest and his body. The man then forced his cock into me and instantly began his frenzied attack.
I was then passed off to the youngest and largest tribesman, whose cock was absolutely massive. He hoisted me from the rock and spun me around in the general direction of the rocks and the grove. He pushed me into the sand, on the same spot as my saddle. My pelvis rose on the saddle with my cock rubbing against the leather. My ass aimed at the sky. This behemoth of a man positioned himself behind and above me, hoisted his impressive tool into my hole, and brutishly pounded me with powerful strokes. I shrieked but was silenced by the chief who shoved his knees under my chest and jammed his cock between my lips again.
As the braves made merry with me, I heard my horse's whinny and the response from my mare, tied up near the river. The golden palomino stallion, having mated with her so swiftly the first time, was doing the same thing once more. I watched with awe as the young Indian mounted my loyal steed.
The highly aroused youth had already come inside me once and was now fucking me again, this time twisting his shaft within me as he reached his orgasm.
Meanwhile, the remaining two tribesmen took me simultaneously. One lay down on the ground while the other shoved my hole down onto his shaft, which, fortunately, was of normal size. The Indian chief stood by, grinning ear-to-ear, while the two braves took me, each holding an arm and a leg and spreading me out.
As I heard the horses whinny again, I saw the palomino stallion mating with his mare once more. I too was being mated, receiving it from another powerful Indian brave.
The remaining tribal member who also had a normal-sized penis entered me. The two of them didn't even attempt to synchronize their rhythm as they double-fucked me but, with excitement thrilling them from the unusual circumstances, both came quickly. [This text has been paraphrased, maintaining the same length and markdown formatting as the original]
When the tribe had their fill of me, the Native American chief sat near me on his magnificent horse, aiming his rifle at my battered, defeated body as the rest of the tribe members searched around my belongings, hoping to find any memento from their journey that appealed to them.
But soon, the chief barked out an order, and the warriors promptly covered themselves with only loincloths before getting on their horses.
I knew at this point that we were facing a crucial decision. The rifle was directed at me, its sights trained on my body. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the shot. Yet when I opened them, the tribe had vanished into the distance, and I was certain I hadn't been hit by any bullets. The chief, dressed in a breastplate made of feathers and turquoise, had offered me this gift just before they left. Apart from his mount, it seemed like he owned nothing else. I had been ravaged, but could I deny that I didn't enjoy it or that the hunky bronze man hadn't enjoyed me as well? Truth be told, this wasn't the type of welcome to the West that I had imagined.
Later on, when my horse gave birth to a beautiful golden palomino foal, I soon discovered that the Indian band had given me another gift – a stunning addition to my stable that only enhanced my admiration for them.
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Katie's Fresh Beginnings: Chapter 8
- In order to listen to your moans.
- An Evening with Brittnay: Part 1
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