Smokin45s
Forum Regular
- Joined
- Oct 18, 2011
- Messages
- 35
- Location
- Colorado
“I reckon it’s about time to get this little fandango started, Welch. How’s about let’s add a little pepper to our game”
“What you got in mind, Rector?”
“Let’s each, real careful-like, just unbutton. Pull out our hard corn-holers. I’ve kilt men before, seen ‘em pump their last load in their britches. This time I wanna see yer cock sprayin’ when you make yer trip to hell’s front door.” I grinned at him, nasty. MY dick was already oozing a big stain and so was his.
“Well fuck a goat. You’re just plumb full of wild-ass ideas, ain’t you, Rector.” Welch thought for a second. “Damn, I do believe I’d like ta see them balls of yer’s a squirtin when I blast the life outta yer body. Sounds like a hell of an idea. Shit, tug yer ballbag out, too. Let ever-thang out in the open!” Welch was grinning like a maniac now, almost trembling with excitement.
We both faced each other and unbuttoned out britches. Soon as I unbuttoned, my trouser snake sprang free like a huntin’ dog out of its pen. Saw Curtis unbutton and let loose a good-sized thick ‘ol pecker, all slick and shiny with ooze, like mine was. Carefully reached down with his left hand, eyes locked on mine and tugged out a set of fuzzy low-hangin’ nuts. He cupped ‘em and watched as I done the same. I could feel the sun shining on my big horse-balls and a cool wind made the hair on ‘em stir.
“Well sheeyit, Rector, ain’t that a sight to see.” Curtis ran his tongue lightly over his bottom lip. ‘Em fuckers looks mighty full. Gotta admire a set of nuts like you got. ‘Course they don’t hang like my boys. Still, I bet when you blow yer death-cum it’s be an impressive sight, yessir, you’ll leave a real impressive puddle.” His expression changed to a grim sneer. “Oughta be able to keep a few day’s of makin’s in that ballbag after I take it offa yer bullet-riddled corpse.” Welch’s dick twitched in anticipation, his eyes were narrowed with concentration. He’d make his move any minute. I wanted him off balance.
I fingered my big nutsac. His eyes couldn’t help follow my fingers. “You’ll be feelin’ these big balls blastin’ on ya after I’ve filled your sorry ass with lead, Welch. Gonna shoot your liver right out yer back. Yeah, I do believe I will cum all over yer shot-to shit self. You think you ain’t about to die a bloody death, ya arrogant pile of horseshit then yer dumb as a sack of cow-turds.” Welch’s sneer turned into a grim smile.
Neither one of us said nothin’ for several heartbeats. It was time.
“I believe I will kill you now” I said clearly and firmly.
My hard dick saved my life.
I flexed my big bone and it twitched up, a big drop of clear slick bobbed of the end and slung into the air. Welch’s eyes, boring deep into mine, flickered for a split second. That was when I reached for the sixgin hangin’ cross my belly. I hurried slow, as they say, not wanting to rush a shot, and pulled and cocked that blue-hued pistol smooth and fast from the holster.
Welch’s right hand streaked down, fast as chain-lightning to the ivory-gripped .45 on his right hip. The fucker was sure-enuf fast. By the time I had my own Colt coming level he had his pistol level. He brought his left hand over to the hammer of his pistol.
Stupid, fatal, mistake. He was gonna fan his gun. Spray and pray, some call it. You can throw a lot of lead that way but most often you ain’t gonna hit what yer aimin’ at that way. He was hot, He was hung. He was a dead man.
My first shot was off a mite. I’d meant to blast him in the guts, ‘bout the navel. Funny thing is when I drawed my .45 my hand bumped into my hard dick, which was damn near standin’ straight up. You’d best believe I ain’t done that before or since….
I hit Curtis in the left side, above the hip. Slug went in and out, caused him to sorta spin to his left. I could see the chunk of flesh fly off when I hit him. He got lucky with that-so’d I since his first shot only grazed the top my left shoulder, a couple inches from my neck. Didn’t feel a damn thing, just like I expect Curtis didn’t feel my slug rip out some of his hide. When you’re dealing flaming, smokin’ death ya tend not to notice shit like that. But hell if it didn’t piss me off sumthin’ fierce.
Welch staggered a little and turned to face me. Couldn’t miss a target like that. My second round hit him in the belly, just above the navel. A big blossom of red and a black hole showed where the chunk of soft lead entered his guts. It knocked him back a step and he grunted in shock and surprise. He fanned his sixgun for another round and his second round went wild, somewhere off to my left. I was trying to shoot fast but accurate, in case the little sumbtich got lucky. His shirt was already starting to soak a bright red.
I adjusted my aim up a few inches and to the right. A blast of flame shot from the 7-inch barrel of my Peacemaker. The big bullet struck the little fucker just below the ribs on the right side, musta ripped inta his lung. A fist sized hunk of bone, flesh and blood came outta his back. He hollered and spun half-way around. His spurs rang as he stumbled a step. The exit wound was big and bloody. I reckon it slowed him down some…
Welch stood with his back to me, hunched over. After a few seconds he turned to face me. His face was a mask of hate and pain. The lung wound was soaking good. His big cock was still hard and oozing pre-cum, a string leaking from his piss-slit. He was breathing hard.
“Yew fuckin’ asshole, you done shot me” Welch croaked. He still had his big pistol in his right hand and reached over with his left palm to slap the hammer. Just as he caught the hammer I squeezed off a carefully aimed round. It hit him in the low belly, in bowels, just below where his gunbelts crossed. Must hurt like a sonofabitch. I hoped so. Ripped a big hole inta his innards. He screamed, firing his Colt into the ground a few feet in front of him. “You goddamn horse turd!” Welch grunted, and staggered back again. Them big Mexican spurs sure made a pretty sound on a dyin’ gunslinger.
I took three steps to the right. All this black powder smoke and dust was makin’ it hard ta see. In clear air the sight in front of me made me grin like a Dodge City whore with a fifty-dollar tip. Welch was still on his feet. The front of his shirt and vest were soaked with blood. More blood was a-pumpin outta his belly, drippin’ onta that big dong. His left hand was holdin’ his groin where my last slug had tore inta his bowels. His eyes were wild, crazy with hate.
My dick felt like it was a lightning rod what had just been struck. Hard and on fire. Swore I was gonna shoot seed. Fuck! Never felt more alive before.
“How ya doin, ya cocky little shithead?” I barked at Welch. It took him a minute to realize I’d moved. “Yer guts hurtin, Welch? Like them lead pills I gave ya? How you like dyin’ Curtis? Y’all want some more? I got plenty for ya, shithead” Welch snarled at me, a trickle of blood at the corned of his fu-Manchu mustache.
“I ain’t…. ain’t near done yet, you ass-licking, goat-shit eatin’ dog-fucker. I’m gonnna…gonna blast you to fuckin’ pieces and shit in yer..yer mouth…y’hear me, Rector?” His cock was twitching and jumping now, balls swollen in their fuzzy sack. He raised a trembling arm and tried to cock his six-shooter.
“Try it, Curtis. Go on. Try it.” I goaded him. I was havin’ on hell of a time. He took me up on it, too. He fired a wild shot off to my left. “Sheeyit, I seen little girls shoot better’n that, Curtis. Now it’s my turn to see you dance. Gonna fill you full of big, smokin’ holes,, ya cocky fuckhead”. Curtis just glared back.
I did a border shift, drawing my left-hand Colt and tossing both pistols in mid-air. I caught the fully loaded forty-five and grinned. “Six rounds in this sumbitch, Welch. Six slugs of hot lead…and all fer you, fuckhead. Can’t wait ta watch ya shoot yer fuckload as ya die like a dog in the dirt.”
I cocked both them sixguns and commenced to firing, alternating shots. Only had two rounds in my left-hand sixgun. Reckoned it’d be enough. I steadily riddled that fucker with lead. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Big bullets tore inta his belly, one after another. Ripped holes outta his back spraying lung, guts, blood and gore that soaked the dirt behind him. He staggered backwards a step or two with every shot, tallywhacker still ramrod straight, eyes wide and staring. After four big bullets I slowly holstered my empty sixgun. Four bullets left in my right-hand .45.
Welch stood, weaving for a minute, his shirt-front soaked with blood, his shirt and vest in tatters from the big heavy slugs of lead. My last two rounds had been fired so close that wisps of smoke rose from the wounds. He swore and slowly settled on his knees. I could see them big spurs jabbin’ him in the ass but he sure-as-shit didn’t feel the sharp silver rowlels.
He’d dropped his pistol about the time the second bulled shredded his belly. His hat had slid back, held on by that stampede string. I walked over, big spurs chiming, dick so hard it didn’t bounce. Walked over to where he was bleedin’ into the dirt.
“Eat my fuckin’ dick, gunslinger” I growled and began to facefuck him. I humped his mouth a few times, choking him. I could feel the spit and blood on my cock. Shit-hot. Pulled that hard fucker out. Leaned down so’s he could hear me.
“Yer dead now, Welch. Dead as Julius Caesar. Dead as Davey Crockett. Dead like a last-week’s horseshit. But I ain’t done with ya yet.” I reached down and grabbed him by his gunbelt. Yanked his britches down and slid up between his pretty butt-cheeks. Seen where one of my bullets had tore through his belly and out his butt. Held onta his hips and rammed in. Humped the fuck outta him, standing up. Welch grunted and groaned….outta pain or pleasure from bein’ ass-raped I don’t know. Humped like hell for a minute until I couldn’t hold back. Shot my seed deep into that fucker’s chute…shot so hard I swore I saw some come outta his ripped up belly. Pulled out and dropped Welch back onta his knees. His hands covered his shredded, bloody belly, soaking his gloves.
Welch leaned back, like he might fall back but them big spurs kept him propped up, eyes staring, gasping. I leaned close to his ear ad whispered.
“C’mon now, Welch. Shoot it off man-killer. Shoot yer gun off one last time before ya shake hands with Satan and end up as coyote shit.” Welch looked over and locked eyes with mine. His bloody lips parted.
“Wish it’d been…been you an’….an’ not me with his guts full of lead, Rector. I.. wish…wish…aw.. fuck.” He started to tremble and buck his hips, thrusting as he began shooting cum. That rock hard dick of his spurted and jerked as he thrust, big streams of seed like a stallion. Kept it up for a good ten, fifteen seconds. Then he quit. Let out a big groan and said “aaaw…hell…yeah” and went still.
I heard the clink of spurs behind me. JD walked over to where I stood. He shook his head at the bloody, bullet-riddled man and blood-soaked dust. “Damn, pardner, when you say yer gonna kill a man, you just kill the HELL outta him.” He slapped me on the shoulder. I started to tuck my equipment away and button my fly. JD cracked a grin. “Ain’t no need to be modest on my account”. He turned and walked to retrieve Welch’s horse. I looked down at Welch kneeling, head leaning back and eyes open. Reckon it was him who’d died starin’ at the sky through lifeless eyes after all.
We tossed Welch’s gory dead body over his saddle, face-down. Figgered we’d strip him of his guns, boots and bury him out on the prairie.
JD and me saddled up and rode off, trailing Welch’s horse and leakin’ corpse. JD dug for the makings to roll a smoke. I heard him cuss.
“Aw shit. Damn little tobacco pouch broke again. I need something stronger that’ll hold up. Shit-ass thing’s always leaking tobacco. Pisses me off sumthin’ fierce” JD complained.
I turned in my saddle and smiled at him. “So happens, I got just the thing for that, pardner.”
“What you got in mind, Rector?”
“Let’s each, real careful-like, just unbutton. Pull out our hard corn-holers. I’ve kilt men before, seen ‘em pump their last load in their britches. This time I wanna see yer cock sprayin’ when you make yer trip to hell’s front door.” I grinned at him, nasty. MY dick was already oozing a big stain and so was his.
“Well fuck a goat. You’re just plumb full of wild-ass ideas, ain’t you, Rector.” Welch thought for a second. “Damn, I do believe I’d like ta see them balls of yer’s a squirtin when I blast the life outta yer body. Sounds like a hell of an idea. Shit, tug yer ballbag out, too. Let ever-thang out in the open!” Welch was grinning like a maniac now, almost trembling with excitement.
We both faced each other and unbuttoned out britches. Soon as I unbuttoned, my trouser snake sprang free like a huntin’ dog out of its pen. Saw Curtis unbutton and let loose a good-sized thick ‘ol pecker, all slick and shiny with ooze, like mine was. Carefully reached down with his left hand, eyes locked on mine and tugged out a set of fuzzy low-hangin’ nuts. He cupped ‘em and watched as I done the same. I could feel the sun shining on my big horse-balls and a cool wind made the hair on ‘em stir.
“Well sheeyit, Rector, ain’t that a sight to see.” Curtis ran his tongue lightly over his bottom lip. ‘Em fuckers looks mighty full. Gotta admire a set of nuts like you got. ‘Course they don’t hang like my boys. Still, I bet when you blow yer death-cum it’s be an impressive sight, yessir, you’ll leave a real impressive puddle.” His expression changed to a grim sneer. “Oughta be able to keep a few day’s of makin’s in that ballbag after I take it offa yer bullet-riddled corpse.” Welch’s dick twitched in anticipation, his eyes were narrowed with concentration. He’d make his move any minute. I wanted him off balance.
I fingered my big nutsac. His eyes couldn’t help follow my fingers. “You’ll be feelin’ these big balls blastin’ on ya after I’ve filled your sorry ass with lead, Welch. Gonna shoot your liver right out yer back. Yeah, I do believe I will cum all over yer shot-to shit self. You think you ain’t about to die a bloody death, ya arrogant pile of horseshit then yer dumb as a sack of cow-turds.” Welch’s sneer turned into a grim smile.
Neither one of us said nothin’ for several heartbeats. It was time.
“I believe I will kill you now” I said clearly and firmly.
My hard dick saved my life.
I flexed my big bone and it twitched up, a big drop of clear slick bobbed of the end and slung into the air. Welch’s eyes, boring deep into mine, flickered for a split second. That was when I reached for the sixgin hangin’ cross my belly. I hurried slow, as they say, not wanting to rush a shot, and pulled and cocked that blue-hued pistol smooth and fast from the holster.
Welch’s right hand streaked down, fast as chain-lightning to the ivory-gripped .45 on his right hip. The fucker was sure-enuf fast. By the time I had my own Colt coming level he had his pistol level. He brought his left hand over to the hammer of his pistol.
Stupid, fatal, mistake. He was gonna fan his gun. Spray and pray, some call it. You can throw a lot of lead that way but most often you ain’t gonna hit what yer aimin’ at that way. He was hot, He was hung. He was a dead man.
My first shot was off a mite. I’d meant to blast him in the guts, ‘bout the navel. Funny thing is when I drawed my .45 my hand bumped into my hard dick, which was damn near standin’ straight up. You’d best believe I ain’t done that before or since….
I hit Curtis in the left side, above the hip. Slug went in and out, caused him to sorta spin to his left. I could see the chunk of flesh fly off when I hit him. He got lucky with that-so’d I since his first shot only grazed the top my left shoulder, a couple inches from my neck. Didn’t feel a damn thing, just like I expect Curtis didn’t feel my slug rip out some of his hide. When you’re dealing flaming, smokin’ death ya tend not to notice shit like that. But hell if it didn’t piss me off sumthin’ fierce.
Welch staggered a little and turned to face me. Couldn’t miss a target like that. My second round hit him in the belly, just above the navel. A big blossom of red and a black hole showed where the chunk of soft lead entered his guts. It knocked him back a step and he grunted in shock and surprise. He fanned his sixgun for another round and his second round went wild, somewhere off to my left. I was trying to shoot fast but accurate, in case the little sumbtich got lucky. His shirt was already starting to soak a bright red.
I adjusted my aim up a few inches and to the right. A blast of flame shot from the 7-inch barrel of my Peacemaker. The big bullet struck the little fucker just below the ribs on the right side, musta ripped inta his lung. A fist sized hunk of bone, flesh and blood came outta his back. He hollered and spun half-way around. His spurs rang as he stumbled a step. The exit wound was big and bloody. I reckon it slowed him down some…
Welch stood with his back to me, hunched over. After a few seconds he turned to face me. His face was a mask of hate and pain. The lung wound was soaking good. His big cock was still hard and oozing pre-cum, a string leaking from his piss-slit. He was breathing hard.
“Yew fuckin’ asshole, you done shot me” Welch croaked. He still had his big pistol in his right hand and reached over with his left palm to slap the hammer. Just as he caught the hammer I squeezed off a carefully aimed round. It hit him in the low belly, in bowels, just below where his gunbelts crossed. Must hurt like a sonofabitch. I hoped so. Ripped a big hole inta his innards. He screamed, firing his Colt into the ground a few feet in front of him. “You goddamn horse turd!” Welch grunted, and staggered back again. Them big Mexican spurs sure made a pretty sound on a dyin’ gunslinger.
I took three steps to the right. All this black powder smoke and dust was makin’ it hard ta see. In clear air the sight in front of me made me grin like a Dodge City whore with a fifty-dollar tip. Welch was still on his feet. The front of his shirt and vest were soaked with blood. More blood was a-pumpin outta his belly, drippin’ onta that big dong. His left hand was holdin’ his groin where my last slug had tore inta his bowels. His eyes were wild, crazy with hate.
My dick felt like it was a lightning rod what had just been struck. Hard and on fire. Swore I was gonna shoot seed. Fuck! Never felt more alive before.
“How ya doin, ya cocky little shithead?” I barked at Welch. It took him a minute to realize I’d moved. “Yer guts hurtin, Welch? Like them lead pills I gave ya? How you like dyin’ Curtis? Y’all want some more? I got plenty for ya, shithead” Welch snarled at me, a trickle of blood at the corned of his fu-Manchu mustache.
“I ain’t…. ain’t near done yet, you ass-licking, goat-shit eatin’ dog-fucker. I’m gonnna…gonna blast you to fuckin’ pieces and shit in yer..yer mouth…y’hear me, Rector?” His cock was twitching and jumping now, balls swollen in their fuzzy sack. He raised a trembling arm and tried to cock his six-shooter.
“Try it, Curtis. Go on. Try it.” I goaded him. I was havin’ on hell of a time. He took me up on it, too. He fired a wild shot off to my left. “Sheeyit, I seen little girls shoot better’n that, Curtis. Now it’s my turn to see you dance. Gonna fill you full of big, smokin’ holes,, ya cocky fuckhead”. Curtis just glared back.
I did a border shift, drawing my left-hand Colt and tossing both pistols in mid-air. I caught the fully loaded forty-five and grinned. “Six rounds in this sumbitch, Welch. Six slugs of hot lead…and all fer you, fuckhead. Can’t wait ta watch ya shoot yer fuckload as ya die like a dog in the dirt.”
I cocked both them sixguns and commenced to firing, alternating shots. Only had two rounds in my left-hand sixgun. Reckoned it’d be enough. I steadily riddled that fucker with lead. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Big bullets tore inta his belly, one after another. Ripped holes outta his back spraying lung, guts, blood and gore that soaked the dirt behind him. He staggered backwards a step or two with every shot, tallywhacker still ramrod straight, eyes wide and staring. After four big bullets I slowly holstered my empty sixgun. Four bullets left in my right-hand .45.
Welch stood, weaving for a minute, his shirt-front soaked with blood, his shirt and vest in tatters from the big heavy slugs of lead. My last two rounds had been fired so close that wisps of smoke rose from the wounds. He swore and slowly settled on his knees. I could see them big spurs jabbin’ him in the ass but he sure-as-shit didn’t feel the sharp silver rowlels.
He’d dropped his pistol about the time the second bulled shredded his belly. His hat had slid back, held on by that stampede string. I walked over, big spurs chiming, dick so hard it didn’t bounce. Walked over to where he was bleedin’ into the dirt.
“Eat my fuckin’ dick, gunslinger” I growled and began to facefuck him. I humped his mouth a few times, choking him. I could feel the spit and blood on my cock. Shit-hot. Pulled that hard fucker out. Leaned down so’s he could hear me.
“Yer dead now, Welch. Dead as Julius Caesar. Dead as Davey Crockett. Dead like a last-week’s horseshit. But I ain’t done with ya yet.” I reached down and grabbed him by his gunbelt. Yanked his britches down and slid up between his pretty butt-cheeks. Seen where one of my bullets had tore through his belly and out his butt. Held onta his hips and rammed in. Humped the fuck outta him, standing up. Welch grunted and groaned….outta pain or pleasure from bein’ ass-raped I don’t know. Humped like hell for a minute until I couldn’t hold back. Shot my seed deep into that fucker’s chute…shot so hard I swore I saw some come outta his ripped up belly. Pulled out and dropped Welch back onta his knees. His hands covered his shredded, bloody belly, soaking his gloves.
Welch leaned back, like he might fall back but them big spurs kept him propped up, eyes staring, gasping. I leaned close to his ear ad whispered.
“C’mon now, Welch. Shoot it off man-killer. Shoot yer gun off one last time before ya shake hands with Satan and end up as coyote shit.” Welch looked over and locked eyes with mine. His bloody lips parted.
“Wish it’d been…been you an’….an’ not me with his guts full of lead, Rector. I.. wish…wish…aw.. fuck.” He started to tremble and buck his hips, thrusting as he began shooting cum. That rock hard dick of his spurted and jerked as he thrust, big streams of seed like a stallion. Kept it up for a good ten, fifteen seconds. Then he quit. Let out a big groan and said “aaaw…hell…yeah” and went still.
I heard the clink of spurs behind me. JD walked over to where I stood. He shook his head at the bloody, bullet-riddled man and blood-soaked dust. “Damn, pardner, when you say yer gonna kill a man, you just kill the HELL outta him.” He slapped me on the shoulder. I started to tuck my equipment away and button my fly. JD cracked a grin. “Ain’t no need to be modest on my account”. He turned and walked to retrieve Welch’s horse. I looked down at Welch kneeling, head leaning back and eyes open. Reckon it was him who’d died starin’ at the sky through lifeless eyes after all.
We tossed Welch’s gory dead body over his saddle, face-down. Figgered we’d strip him of his guns, boots and bury him out on the prairie.
JD and me saddled up and rode off, trailing Welch’s horse and leakin’ corpse. JD dug for the makings to roll a smoke. I heard him cuss.
“Aw shit. Damn little tobacco pouch broke again. I need something stronger that’ll hold up. Shit-ass thing’s always leaking tobacco. Pisses me off sumthin’ fierce” JD complained.
I turned in my saddle and smiled at him. “So happens, I got just the thing for that, pardner.”
writing it as you did reading it. Never quite intended it to turn out so long bu the story sorta developed it's own momentum as I wrote...
If you'd sent that before I was finished with the story I think I'd have been too preoccupied with the picture to ever have finished! A definite 
