Stagecoach

Boredom. It's responsible for a lot of evils.

Why did the Normans go raiding? They were bored of sitting at home watching ice melt.

Why did the Vandals attack the Romans? They were bored of sitting in the forests watching trees grow.

Do you know what one of the most boring things you can do is? Travel.

In the desert the Arabs would travel in camel caravans, each Arab watching the rear end on the camel in front of him. How boring.

Nowadays we fly, sitting in a little tin can that's hurtling through the air while we sit and watch the back of the head of the passenger in front of us, bored out of our minds.

In the wild west, passengers would stay cooped up in a stage coach that seemed to gallop endlessly into the distance, with nothing to do but watch each other and be bored out of their skulls.

So people find ways to defeat this boredom. This is one of those little excursions into boredom mitigation.

Here was the stage coach, with four passengers. They'd been on that coach for two hours already and expected to be on it another four before they reached a change station. Further boredom awaited them after that.

The four passengers – two women and two men. The first of the woman looked to be about thirty, was apparently well to do, dressed stylishly and still had an excellent figure. The thirtyish appearance was actually a lie, as she was nearer forty. Travelling with her was the second woman, her daughter. Also dressed in style, a superb young figure, quite lovely to look at. They were the wife and daughter of a well-established rancher, returning from a visit to the city.

The first of the men was a gambler, neatly dressed and well groomed, about thirty years old. He was travelling to a new city after being advised that he'd worn out his welcome in the last one.

The second man was a cowboy, mid-twenties, dressed standardly for a cowboy. He was travelling because he wanted to.

They were all bored. Mother and daughter were dozing in the heat, while the two men just sat back and survived. Eventually the gambler turned to the cowboy.

"We need to do something to help pass the time," he said. "How about a friendly little game?"

The cowboy just laughed at him.

"Any game you're in, isn't going to be friendly," he observed, "and I'd be no match for you at cards. How about we try our hands at a little target practice, or maybe persuade the driver to let us take turns driving to see which of us is best?"

It was the gambler's turn to laugh.

"I never bet on a sure loss," he said, "and it seems to me that taking you on in a physical contest is a certain loss for me."

They continued on their way in silence for a few minutes, the men musing and the women nodding off.

"I can think of a physical contest that would give us both a fair chance," mused the cowboy, looking sideways at the gambler.

"Pray tell?" came the reply.

"No offence, but I heard you was run out of the last town for cheating," observed the cowboy.

"None taken, and it was only alleged, not proven, and is it relevant?"

"It's relevant as it points to the directions of your morals. Mine ain't too high, and would I be right in saying the same about yours?"

"I like to think of mine as being flexible, depending on the circumstances. What are you getting at."

"Well, we're two men," said the cowboy, speaking softly. "Seated here, we have two women. Now if we were to take one woman each and sit her on our cocks we could have a few friendly wagers. We don't bounce the women on our cocks, we just sit and hold them there and let this damned stagecoach do the bouncing. We can bet on who's going to come first, us or them, and which of us or them is going to come first and so on."

"And if they scream, and the driver hears them?" asked the gambler.

"The driver don't hear nothing out of the coach. Too much noise up where he is."

"And when we reach a town and they complain?"

"Do you really think those two are going to go to the sheriff and say they've been ruined by a cowboy and a gambler? As long as we don't damage them they'll say nothing."

"The girl is probably a virgin," pointed out the gambler.

"Probably, but she can't go through life like that. I consider it my duty to help her. You can lift the woman's skirts first and prong her so the girl knows what to expect when I take her."

"OK, you're on. One little test first, if you don't mind."

Opening his mouth the gambler yelled loudly to the driver, and listened for a response. When none was forthcoming, he repeated the call, with the same result.

Satisfied, he turned to the cowboy.

"I'm in," he said, ignoring the grumbling women who had started awake at his yells. He calmly announced a sequence and odds. The cowboy considered and accepted.

Both men started stripping off their trousers, the women not noticing at first. Then the daughter saw what was going on, squeaked and gripped her mother's arm. By this time, both men were pushing down their trousers, erections already on display.

"How dare you," squawked the mother. "Pull your trousers back up this instant. I will certainly be reporting this behaviour to the company."

She faltered when she saw the look that the gambler gave her.

"You will be quiet and do what you're told," he informed her, his voice low and cold. "Do you want your daughter to get hurt?"

The mother shook her head, casting a desperate look at her daughter.

"In that case you will stand up and hitch your dress and petticoats up to your waist.

Now!" he snapped, when the woman hesitated, casting a significant nod towards the daughter.

Furious and scared, the woman got to her feet, propped herself against the side of the coach and gathered her skirt and petticoats up. The gambler looked at her, appalled.

"What the hell are they?" he demanded, looking at some extra clothing he had never seen before.

"They're called bloomers," said the mother nervously. "Amelia Bloomer says that every woman should wear them."

"Her, too?" asked the gambler, nodding towards the daughter.

"Of course," said the mother. "Every woman will have them soon."

The gambler shook his head.

"They're ghastly," he complained. "Take them off. Yes, her too."

"But we have nothing under them," protested the mother.

"That is the general idea," pointed out the gambler. "Now, both of you get those things off, and then you, woman, hitch up your dress and petticoats as ordered."

There was much fumbling up under their dresses, but in short order two pairs of bloomers were tossed onto the seat. The mother again rose reluctantly to her feet, propped herself against the side of the coach and raised her dress and petticoat, proving that she was indeed naked under her dress.

Scarlet faced the woman stood there, waiting to see what would happen. She didn't have to wait long.

"Now turn around and sit on my lap. Slowly, so your daughter can see what you're doing."

The mother was pale now.

"When you say sit on your lap," she said, eyeing his erection nervously, "do you actually mean your lap?"

"Eventually," said the gambler with a smile, "though it may take you a few moments to slide that far down."

"And if I don't?"

"Then your daughter will. Your choice."

Breathing hard the woman turned her back to the gambler. His hands settled on her hips and he guided her back until she was poised above his erection. A downwards tug on her hips and the woman slowly sank down until the head of the gamblers erection was pressed firmly against the mother's pussy.

At this stage, the cowboy reached over and tapped the daughter on the knee.

"You had better open your eyes and watch this," he told her. "That man is as mean as they come, and if you don't watch he's likely to make your mother keep on doing it until you do watch."

Red of face, the daughter turned and watched as her mother sank slowly down onto the gamblers cock, squeaking and moaning as she did so. Finally she was settled on his lap, his erection tall within her.

The gambler held the mother firmly in position, not moving. Already he could feel the vibrations of the stagecoach doing interesting things where their two bodies met. He glanced at the cowboy and nodded.

"OK, Miss," the cowboy said. "Now it's your turn. Lift your dress and petticoats high so we can see you, then sit on my lap."

At these words, the mother gave a cry of protest, trying to rise up off the gambler. Her efforts were easily forestalled, with the gamblers hands pressing on her shoulders and easily holding her in place.

"What if I don't?" asked the girl.

"You won't enjoy the consequences," replied the cowboy, "because you're going to finish up with me in you whether you cooperate or not. If you don't, your mother may suffer a little while we persuade you, but the final outcome will be the same."

"My father will kill you for this," hissed the daughter, furious.

The cowboy shook his head.

"First, you'd have to admit that you've been ruined. Ain't going to happen, now is it? Second, your father would have to find us. You don't know who we are. Third, you may wind up getting him killed. Do you really want to lose him over a simple fuck?"

"I'm a virgin," protested the daughter, but resignation echoed in her voice.

"I would certainly hope so," said the cowboy. "I despair of the morals of some of the young people these days. It'll be a pleasure to service a woman of such high standards as yourself. Now can we please get the show on the road?"

The daughter looked towards her mother, and then, surprised, took another look. Her mother's face was flushed, and she seemed restless, twisting back and forth a little on the gamblers lap. The gambler also seemed to be restless, moving slightly under her mother and breathing hard. Apparently the pair of them found it uncomfortable, sitting like that.

Sighing, the daughter rose slowly to her feet. She was even slower raising her dress and petticoats, her face slowly turning scarlet as she did so. Finally exposed, she saw the cowboy looking over her legs and private parts, appreciation plain on his face.

The daughter gave a squeak of shock when the cowboy reached over and stroked her private parts. She gave another little squeak when he turned her around and pulled her towards him. A slight downwards tug and she felt herself sinking down onto his lap.

Before she had moved very far, she felt something pressing against her. She froze, a frisson of excitement shooting through her. She felt a hand run smoothly across her bottom and dip between her legs. Then fingers were pulling her lips apart and she was being urged to let that thing enter her.

Remembering how the gambler's cock had speared up into her mother, the daughter realised the same thing was now happening to her with the cowboy's weapon. She tried to resist, tried to rise away from the intrusion, but the cowboy had a firm grip on her, and she found her own weight was helping him, making her slide further down his shaft.

There was no pain, horse-riding having long ago ruptured the delicate structure of her hymen, and the daughter just found a delicious sensation stealing over her as she sank steadily down. She should be trying to resist, she knew, but really, what was the harm? If it felt like this, it couldn't be all that wrong.

Finally the daughter found she was no longer sinking down. She seemed to be comfortably seated on the cowboys lap, and if it wasn't for the enormous awareness she had of the cowboy being inside her, she would have found the situation quite pleasant.

Surprised that she hadn't heard her mother protesting while the cowboy invaded her, the daughter threw her another look. To her surprise her mother seemed to be gasping for air, and her twisting about on the gamblers lap seemed to be taking on a frenetic twist. The gambler didn't seem in much better condition, his head tossed back and his eyes closed as he twisted and squirmed slowly under her mother's weight.

Puzzled as to what was the matter with them, the daughter found her attention turning again to the man who was holding her. The jolting of the coach was doing strange things to her, she found, and she shifted restlessly.

The cowboy was enjoying the feel of the daughter ensconced on his cock. The stagecoach was doing the job he had suspected it would, and the total situation was very pleasant as far as he was concerned. Now to improve it.

The cowboy started undoing the row of buttons in front of him. The daughter promptly protested, but a sudden jerk of his cock made her squeal and shut up. Buttons undone, the cowboy pulled the top of the dress down and, reaching around, he slid his hands beneath the loose tops of the petticoats and grasped the rosy tipped breasts that were concealed there.

The daughter protested at this intrusion, which the cowboy thought amusing, seeing his cock was so far up her pussy she could probably taste it. He glanced over at the gambler and the mother. From the looks on their faces the stagecoach was working magic on them. They were both so sexually aroused that they were probably blind to the world around them.

The cowboy felt a spirit of mischief rising within him. He was already in the woman, and had felt her breasts. He might as well see everything. Tugging at the daughters dress, the cowboy hauled it up and over her head, ignoring her gasped protests.

The daughter felt her dress being removed, and the surprise was enough to turn her attention away from the things that were happening inside her pussy as the coach bounced and swayed, causing that cock inside her to do a terrible little dance.

Her protests being ignored and her dress landing on the other seat let the daughter know that further protests in regard to her petticoat would also be ignored. Resignedly she felt them being hauled up over her head, seeing them land on the other seat. Now, apart from her boots, she was naked, with hands playing with her breasts and that damned cock still wriggling around inside her making it hard for her to think.

The daughter finally realised just why her mother was acting the way she was. These odd feeling that she was experiencing, feelings that were getting worse or better, depending on how you looked at it, were probably exactly the same as the ones her mother was feeling. And her mother had been suffering a cock's attention for longer that her.

It finally dawned on the daughter that she was twisting and squirming on the cowboy's cock in exactly the way her mother was reacting to the gambler. And there didn't seem to be any way to stop it. Everything was out of her control, with the terrible feelings from her pussy now being met by a range of odd sensation coming from her breasts where the cowboy was teasing them.

She could hear her mother screaming, but the sound was coming from a distance. Then she realised that she was also screaming, but so was her entire body as she suddenly felt as though she was on fire. She could feel the cowboy frantically jerking against her, and something splashing deep within her, but they were just minor parts of the huge sensation of just feeling that she was going through.

Slowly coming back to an awareness of the world, the daughter started to put things together. She was slumped on the cowboy, who was holding her firmly. She was also naked. Her mother was sitting, gasping, in the gamblers lap, and she was also naked. When had that happened, she wondered?

The gambler was grinning in triumph, apparently because he'd won a bet of some sort. Twisting her head to look at the cowboy, he had a rueful look on his face. Apparently he'd lost the bet.

Gathering her wits together, the daughter spoke up.

"If you've finished, can we please get out clothes back on?"

The gambler looked at her, his eyes running over her, the interest in them making her squirm inside.

"We've still got a couple of hours to kill," said the gambler to the cowboy. "Double or nothing that I can recover and do the daughter before you can recover and do the mother."

The cowboy nodded.

"You're on. Sorry, girls, you'll just have to ride naked for a while. We'll let you know when we're ready for seconds."