OLD WEST 6

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OLD WEST 6Ted Koomins was angry. He,d been sure Tara Connelly would come to him for sex as she had the last time she,d visited. He recalled how sexy she was and acted just like the whites in nearby Hudson township he occasionally paid to fuck and perform for him. “Must be aiming to fuck that damned Mitchell.” He thought to himself. “I know I Ain,t no big shakes with young Anne, but Tara was begging for my cock! Fucking Mitchell. I,m gonna have to try to get rid of him by staging an “accident”! Koomins always went out of his way to give Hank the dirtiest jobs possible while he did little to justify his position as charge hand yet he knew Old Man Connelly wouldnever Fire him as he,d worked for him since he was a young twenty four year old drifter and helped fight off Commancheros trying to steal the land. In truth Koomins was a cruel vindictive man, but the type of man that prospered in those times. Koomins thought he,d make a great lawman if he ever decided to change jobs as he had no qualms about killing either with a gun or his powerful hands and he,d done just that more than once though not for some years now. “Getting soft in my old age.” Koomins was canlı bahis siteleri only forty three yet looked sixty with his grey streaked hair grown long to his shoulders and grey eyes. His body was muscular and lean with his arms bare from the shoulders down under a worn black leather vest, a wicked looking scar on the left side of his neck where a rustler,s bullet had gouged a painful course fifteen years before during a range war. Yes Koomins would sort out Mr Hank Mitchell given his chance.Koomins had learned patience over the years and would wait for the chance to strike he knew would come. Meanwhile he,d be ever so nice to Anne and try to win the flighty Tara back to him. Hank Didn,t mind getting all the shitty jobs on the spread. As a boy he,d cleaned up manure from every type of farm a****l going and even cleaned up diorrhea from his dying father so the smell of whatever type of faeces never bothered him. Today he,d worn his gloves to shovel horse manure into the old buckboard used to haul manure and bare chested in the hot sun had driven the load back to the ranch to dump it in the Connelly large kitchen garden/flower beds. As he tipobet güvenilir mi laboured Tara came out to watch soon followed by Anna as they sat on the front porch swing chatting amongst themselves. Once he,d completely unloading and was preparing to go back for another load they called to him to join them for coffee and a rest break. “Sorry ladies, but I,m all sweaty and smelly just now.” He apologised. “Don,t worry. We don,t mind a bit of honest sweat Hank.” Tara gave him a warm smile which made his prick start to harden.”Come sit between us. We love the fresh smell of sweat on a man!” Anne added. So Hank joined them as Tara called to Cookie to bring three coffees and some freshly baked cookies. “Anne tells me you have quite a shooter in your holster.” Tara began and Hank read her meaning and blushed.”Guilty Ma,am, but I don,t get much chance to use it.” “Oh my little sister and I can help you get lots of target practise I assure you.” she chuckled and “accidentally brushed her delicate fingers over his jeans contained erection. “Hmm. Very nice. Why don,t you meet Anne and me in the old play house about 9 tonight and tipobet giriş we,ll start your training.” “Be there with bells on.” Cookie now arrived with the refreshments so they reverted to more mundane chat till the coffe was drunk and Hank left in the buck board. Meanwhile Koomins who had seen Hank drive the buckboard into the yard watched him sitting with the women. He Wasn,t close enough to seeTara openly touch Hanks cock or hear their conversation, but it kissed him off no end Tara playing up to the dumb cowhand when she should be playing up to him. At the same time his own big cock had grown hard as a rock and he had to slink off to the out house to jerk off. “Bet the three are planning something dirty.” He thought once he,d shot his load. “Better keep an eye on the conniving cunts.!” When Hank returned later the women had gone into the ranch house in the heat if the noon day sun so he continued to fork the strong smelling horse shit onto the garden with loads of flies attracted, some trying to land on his sweating body. Finally with the task completed he washed the sweat and dirt away in the main horse trough, the cold rain water helping to revive his spirits. He put on a clean blue shirt to wear under his brown buckskin vest and buckled the colt peacemaker back on his waist before entering the bunk house kitchen to have a late lunch with a few of the cow hands before heading out to check for any reads in the fence line. TBC

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