Bruised and aching from the kilometres travelled on horseback, Bearpaw reached the town at last. After years of internal conflict, his village cheiftain cast him out of the tribe. Not for nothing, but for years of consorting with his daughter in mountain caves and dense forests. After finally desecrating a holy site with foul acts, he was sent away, with nowhere left to go but the American towns.
Already established for years now, the towns forming in the state Oregon were becoming more and more developed with the rush of wealth promised by gold iron mining. And so rich were the inhabitants of these collectives of hostels, bars and brothels.
Bearpaw saw promise in these towns, in particular Eastheathe. A new town which was far away from the lands travelled by his tribe. He had abandoned the teachings of his peoples, in hope to achieve glory and gold that the new Americans flaunted.
Most of all he wanted to be unbound.
He sought freedom to indulge in his greed. In his hunger for overindulgence.
Pulling off his bow from his tall horse, the only two possessions he had, he walked towards the largest, loudest building in Eastheathe. If he were to find glory and gold, he had to be unbashful in what it would take to do to get it.
What Bearpaw failed to account for was what motivations and values the town of Eastheathe itself had for him. Would he find gold and guns? Or wanted posters and unmarked bonds?
As he swung open the wooden spring doors, the stench of booze was apparent, and the rumbling sound of civilisation boomed like thunder. This was Eastheathe. It was gowns and wigs cast to the edges of the saloon floor. It was bare chested men and women, bronzed and pale, in embrace atop tables. It was men playing casual games of poker in smokey corners, and elderly women looming at the top of stairways counting the minutes as they pass. It was mature and weary men at the bar, sweat glazed and furrow browed, waiting for the sun to disappear completely before satisfying their quench for bottomless kegs of stout and pale ale.
Bearpaw understood. Bearpaw admired. And most of all bearpaw wanted in. He puffed his chest, half-bare from his tunic, and marched to the lady watching the time go by.
“I charge red skins extra…” she declared before he stepped onto the landing before her. “They’re too rough on my blonde girlies”. He took a moment to speak.
“Do you need work?” Bearpaw responded, chest still puffed. Shoulders pushed back to broaden his already domineering figure. Almost taken aback by his question, the woman stared him down for a moment before a creeping smile revealed golden teeth.
“I had a feeling that moon last night was a good omen, I just felt it.” The woman was now energetic compared to her disinterested stance before. “My bruiser ran out two days ago, and I was starting to get worried id be left without any good muscle. You know these ruffians smell opportunity a mile away.” She pulled out a bag and handed Bearpaw a revolver. “Take this and stand there-” She pointed between two doors on the hallway at the top of the stairs. “Hear anything too loud, or the words ’Gold Tooth’, you use that .45 there and sort it out”. Beartpaw took this new gift and executed his commands.
Two weeks now passed and Bearpaw was contempt with his new arrangements. He had a room in the Brothel which he shared with a coloured man, Martin, who was another one of Tabby’s boys(the woman at the stairs). He earned 5 dollars a week and could feed himself most of the time. He would still hunt hares in the outback of Eastheathe, but most days he could happily afford a meal of beans, pork and bread.
There was rarely ever any trouble, only finding out the meaning of “Gold Tooth” a week in, when he heard one of the working girls call out before her door swung open and a skinny elderly man started spiriting out of the building. It meant he was “making off without payment”, to which tabby reminded him was ‘pretty common when times are tougher on the miners in town’.
On a night when Tabby had drunk herself into a deep sleep, Bearpaw had worked up the courage to approach one of the girls at the bar. From a distance he spotted her blonde head with ease, with the pale skin of her neck, back and cleavage protruding out of a frill blue dress. She sat leaning across the bar sipping a beer, discussing something with little enthusiasm to the bartender Pete.
Bearpaw walked down the stairs, and began towards her. As he approached, her glassy eyes landed on him a few paces before he reached her. She smiled and projected loudly, “Hell-lo handsome”. Bearpaw took her hand and helped her up out of the stool.
“Ill give you a dollar for tonight”, he said abruptly.
“Now, now. You know tabby charges you extra for Indians, but I know you from round here, so ill let you off” she said with a lazy wink and a giggle. Rather unromantically, Bearpaw led the girl up the stairs, making sure she doesn’t trip. When they reached the door, he swung it open and found one of the black girls with a young man. She was already undressed, with her sweat glazed dark bare ass bent over the foot of the bed. The man looked confused and nervous, as he quickly pulled up his trousers and spun around. Bearpaw took another moment and motioned his head toward the door. The man grabbed his belt and walked out without another word. Bearpaw grabbed the boys arm and handed him two dollars as he passed. “Take the one with the red hair downstairs, and go to the room at the end” Bearpaw instructed. “She’ll take better care of you”.
He helped the blonde into the chair before caught the black girls hand as she walked out, still stark naked. He put a dollar in her palm and smiled. “Stay back there, as you were”. She flicked her hair back and grinned. Walking back to the foot of the bed, her hips swung, parading her curves. She was skinny compared to the blonde, but still heavily set with swinging tits. As she bent back over the bed, Bearpaw took off his tunic top, trousers, and boots. he shut the door. “Why are you still dressed?” He asked the blonde, grabbing a handful of hair, while she still sat in the chair, wordless.
She fumbled at her strung hems of the dress before he quickly undid them with a few firm tugs. The dress dropped and her skin once more glared pale as he took her in. She was more shapely naked, her hips giving way to his fingers, plushy and soft. He embraced her, pressing pink lips to his own, still tasting the bitter drink she was last sipping. He stepped back and lowered her to her knees. She took him in her mouth without a moments hesitation. Bearpaw rounded his hips in response, pushing himself deeper into her mouth, then pulling out suddenly. She already had welling eyes, tears preparing to fall, before she parted her lips again and took him in again.
For a moment he allowed her too. But before he could enjoy any longer, he pulled back out and made his way over to the bronze ass waiting patiently across the room. He mounted her hips, one leg raised onto the bed frame, allowing his weight into her. A sharp sigh left her lips, before Bearpaw reached down and grabbed a breast in one hand. Gently pressing her tit against her body, his fingers enveloped by her warm skin. She giggled as he played with her nipple, still swaying his hips into her. The rasping sounds of skin against skin clapping. He picked up the pace more, now throwing his hair into the air as he moved. He dropped his leg to standing position and began thrusting her, with short quick pumps, hands bracing her sides.
Then he stopped before he could finish. Her wails failed as her legs dripped with pleasure, knees beginning to give way to her ecstasy.
He walked back to the blonde, now sitting cross legged in the chair, fingers toying with her clit. Her big doe eyes widening as he got closer. She sucked her fingers and stood quickly. Bearpaw lifted her up, embracing her again, her legs wrapped round him. He walked back to the bed and threw her down onto her back, her blonde hair coming loose and draping the bed. The black girl lay beside her staring into his eyes as he went into the blonde. He reached down and put his thumb in the black girls mouth, her lips accepting, saliva dripping down her cheek.
He began moving into the blonde more heavily now, every thrust purposeful and powerful. He smiled more as the blonde began crooning her neck as she came, moaning more shrilly. Her eyes still glazed with drunkness, she said to him “fuck mefuck m-e fuck me fu-ck me FUCK ME!”.
Beartpaw pulled himself away as he came, ropes shooting up against the blonde’s stomach. Some reaching her chin, some reaching the ebony tits across from him. As he finished across them, the black girl went to her knees, sucking on his dick, still thick but now swinging lazily. She took him out, wiping the cum from her chest and the white girls stomach. She reached up and wet the blonde’s face with his cum, wiping her palm across her cheek, then pushing three fingers into her mouth, lips still parted from her orgasm. She gagged slightly as her fingers went too deep, but grabbed her hand, licking it clean.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/l47m4d/cowgirls_and_indians_mff_fiction