The Gunslinger

My Dad loved Westerns, so we grew up around "Gunsmoke" and John Wayne movies. It was easy to see the appeal. The good guys were easily identified, and they were usually smarter, stronger, and quicker on the draw. I remembered the gunslinger's stance, his swagger, his hand position as he prepared to draw. No words reverberated more strongly than "there's a new sheriff in town." The bad guys shook, the townspeople looked forward to protection and the re-establishment of order, and the women swooned to the "ch-ching, ch-ching" of those spurs.

I'd called you at work to tell you that the package we'd been waiting for came in the mail today, and I relished the tremor in your voice. You knew exactly which package I meant. I'd given you a little something to think about all afternoon.

Tearing off the wrapping, I pulled out the contents and removed their packaging. I was now the owner of a lovely black leather harness, and a double-ended work of erotic art.

I ran my fingers over the smooth silicone. The harnessed end was smaller and angled nearly upright, so I could place it inside me and slip the other end through the hole in the harness.

Because the harnessed end didn't move in and out, it was textured differently, with places for a cunt to grasp and squeeze it. The business end stood as proudly as the most erect cock, with just a slight upward tilt. It really was a beautiful instrument, suitable for concert play.

The better to fuck you with.

You arrived home to a note instructing you to join me in the bedroom. You found me standing near the bed, naked from the waist down, the harness halfway up my thighs, holding the silicone organ in my hand as though I were going to jack it off.

"Do you see this?"

You nodded, wide-eyed.

"I'm going to fuck you with it. Before I put it on, you need to make me wet first."

You knew that this meant to slip to your knees and begin to kiss the outer lips of my cunt, your obedient tongue tracing the hollow between the inner and outer lips. Then using long, flat-tongued licks, you brought my clitoris out to play, until my head dropped back with a moan. You were so well-trained, knowing exactly what needed to be done. Then you pointed your tongue, vibrating it against my clit, flicking it from side to side, then up and down, until I wanted to scream. I pushed your head gently away from me. I wanted to come against your mouth, and I would, but that would be later, after we were both panting and exhausted, when it was time for you to lick the sweat and honey from me.

I was more than wet enough to slip the smaller end of the organ inside me, the bumps providing extra stimulation. Still kneeling, you assisted me in buckling the straps of the harness: two straps over each hip, and two between my legs, buckled at my tailbone. This kept the cock nice and secure inside me. I could already feel my desire seeping around it, cunt walls clenching on the textured phallus.

A swagger crept into my gait as I began to move toward you. The harness was snug around my hips. The blue marbled color of the cock made it an even more obscene, bobbing display.

I wanted it in your mouth, wanted to see your lips distended around it. As you opened your lips to take it in, I groaned as if it were actually a part of my body, watching as you circled the head with your tongue, then took the head between your lips, your mouth forming a perfect "o" around it.

You swallowed and swallowed as you moved the shaft further into your mouth, taking me in as far as you could, until it hurt your soft palate. My fingertips cradled your skull, tangling in your long hair as I began to fuck your moaning mouth, my cunt spasming around my end of the cock. You sat back on your heels, your knees spread and your desire evident. You even moved your hips in time with the mouth-fucking I was giving you.

I took your hands and pulled you up onto the bed, where you continued to suck me. Your legs were spread so wide that you were able to rub yourself against the sheets, your ass rising and falling.

Your hips looked so appetizing, and the line of your back so graceful and strong. Your eyes were soft too. I wanted inside those hips, inside those eyes. I wanted to slice into them like diving cleanly into water. I wanted to swim and float in them. I sat up, and with the heels of my hands, I pushed against your chest until you fell backward onto the bed with a gasp, your thighs already spread, your hips rising instinctively.

Kneeling over you, I gazed down at you, my hands on the insides of your thighs, forcing them further apart. Then I sat motionless, waiting for you to speak. You didn't want to have to say it. You wanted me to take control, to force it upon you, to keep you from having to ask for it, but I wanted no such thing. I would take you forcefully, but I needed to know that you wanted this. So I waited, until I heard your voice, low and soft, whisper a single word. "Please..."

There was such a surge when I penetrated you, filled you with double-ended, high-grade silicone, pushing your knees to your chest, putting my hands on the backs of your thighs, leaning in until you took my weight. My cunt spasmed around the smaller end, the harness holding it in place while I thrust. You bucked beneath me, your hips meeting me again and again.

You wrapped your thighs around me, climbing me like a tree, trying to force me into you as far as possible. Taking my weight off my hands, I leaned back, pelvis thrust forward, pistoning in and out of you as my thumbs and fingers closed on your nipples, pulling them as I lean back. Your cries began to overlap, becoming one continuous sound. Pulling hard on your nipples, then letting them slip from my fingers, I pulled out of you abruptly, grabbed your hips, and forced you onto your belly. My hands on the backs of your knees pushed you onto all fours, and I penetrated you from behind, the path now easy and smooth.

My hands were on the curve of your waist, pulling you back onto me. You became wanton, reaching, pleading, almost spiraling away from me before you bucked and reared against my cock. When you started to get sore, I turned you back over onto your back and slammed it inside you again, taking you by the hair and giving you a series of punishing kisses. My mouth was less than an inch from yours.

"Make yourself come." My whisper was harsh, our breath, our skin, our sweat mingling. You began to touch yourself, rubbing and teasing with the fullness of me inside you. Your hips gyrated wildly, your thighs tensed, and your legs straightened as you cried out in your need. When you came, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, and you nearly sat up with the force of your orgasm, but I had you pinned in place. You wouldn't slip away. You would stay and experience it all.

I kept pumping until you begged me to stop. In a frenzy, I tore at the buckles of the harness. I pulled the cock from my sodden cunt, hearing and feeling the wet slip of it, the suction. Tossing it aside, I forced you back down and straddled my thighs above your head, wanting you to taste the fruits of our labor. My clit was so swollen and distended, it was relatively easy for your lips to fasten onto it, sucking it until I came onto your face, my hands pressed against the wall, my cries echoing in the dark room.

Still shuddering, I disengaged your mouth and slipped my thigh back over you, sitting back on my heels beside your spent body. I wiped my flushed face with my forearm, then reached out to stroke your cheek, as the awed gaze of the townspeople met the cool, cocky eyes of the gunslinger.

Next stop--spurs.