Grey Frost Ch. 01

The house was a hovel. A well built hovel. Somewhere, in the past, perhaps the original builders gave a damn, the current owners did not care. The filth and contempt the current proprietors had for the domicile concealed the age of the building. However, in the cold and damp pre-dawn light it looked like a bastion of hope and safety.

Grey nudged his horse forwards, the chestnut mare responded to the gentle nudges. Slowly and painfully Grey slid off the beast and half hobbled and half fell towards the hitching post in an attempt at securing the faithful companion.

Snoring emanated from within the darkened building. A deep phlegmy snore that brought to overactive minds the image of a huge bear.

"Meryl!" Grey yelled, his voice breathless as he clattered to a prone position on the porch.

The great beasts snoring skipped a beat, like a piano missing notes. Grey shook his head and widened his eyes as he felt the darkness of concussion roll in.

"Meryl," Grey bellowed, feeling his world wobble.

"Who?" A petite female face filled his swimming vision, as her startled tone and Irish accent filled his ears.

The question confused Grey, the pretty, red-headed, freckle washed young woman was not usually what one found at Meryls. "Meryl. Shot. Bleeding out." Grey hoped that the stilted message would get through and the pretty young woman would understand.

The young woman regarded the man on the rotting porch. Dressed in plain but weathered workman's clothes he sported a heavy colt-navy pistol on one hip and a peacemaker on the other. Tools of a killer not a worker. His face a rictus of pain, she saw the wound on his left thigh and arm each was a bloody mess of flesh and pulped clothing.

"Meryl!' The young woman paused, her green eyes narrowing. "Who is this?"

"That," Meryl said quietly from behind her. "Is Grey Frost."

The young woman jumped in fright, Meryl for all his size and bulk, still startled her with his speed and silence even after all this time.

"The lad looks dead," the young woman said with a grim tone. Leaning forward to look at the wounded man.

"Take more than that to kill Grey Frost." Meryl said moving the tiny young woman out of the way and eliciting a startled yelp. The bear of a man scooped the wet, still form of the wounded man up.

"Ye mean, the real Grey Frost?." The woman said standing up. "He's a killer." The last part was said in a hissed whisper.

"Well he is my friend,'' the bear of a man said as he carried the dying man inside.

*****

Dreams, with a scatter of reality make for awful sleep. Images of a young doctor, her white dress, her deep cleavage and her picturesque face. Mumblings of stitching. Screams, were they his own? Then like a sudden clap of thunder the dreams were gone along with them the sleep.

Grey sat up in bed startled and felt sweat cascade down his back. The room was silent, save for the soft ticks of a clock, dark save for the light from the coals of a dying fire. How long had he been here? Then it hit him, he needed to pee.

Gingerly he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The pain was there but it was only a mild twinge as the stitches pulled on the wound. The dirty wooden floor was cool to the touch. Grey looked for a chamber pot, realising he was at Meryl's house, and that if he found a chamber pot there it would most likely be full. Carefully Grey stood, focusing his weight on the good leg. He was surprised when he found the bad leg reacted to the movement and weight quite well. He would have to thank that doctor.

Hobbling through the unkempt lounge to the disheveled parlor then to the opened and hanging front door. Walking to the rotted porch, he walked down towards the side of the house, satisfied that his leg was healing well.

Grey got to the end of the porch and looked at the fingers of light spreading across the dark blue dawn sky. A cold wind made Grey shiver. Then he realised his predicament. Buttoned fly-less pants. With one hand he would need to undo his belt, pants, watch he did not tear his stitches and then direct the flow of his piss. Grey was a killer, a gunfighter of some renown, a veteran of two wars and man of the land, here had finally been defeated ignominiously by his own pants. The pain of the held bladder made him dance and he almost resolved to wet himself and deal with the embarrassment. Then he heard movement behind him.

"You look like ye need a hand," it was the young woman. Clutching an army blanket to her chest it was a vain attempt at modesty, the blanket or lack of blanket exposed pale white skin, round thighs, bare feet and a freckle washed cleavage.

"Hi," Grey paused as he had forgotten the girls name, or did he even hear it?

"Erin," she said with a sniff and a flick of her curly red hair. She walked to the end of the porch to stand alongside Grey.

Consciously Grey looked forward, not without sneaking a quick glance at the young woman out of the corner of his eye.

"Good morning, Erin," Grey said calmly, looking at the rising sun. A grin forming on his face.3w73

"I don't think you are out here to watch the sunrise, you don't strike me as the cliche type," Erin said with a smile, as she bent to scratch aimlessly at her perfect white feet.

Round white buttocks briefly flashed into view. Grey's eyes shot from them to the wobble of large pale breasts and then settled on perfect petite white feet. He shook his head, an erection, now, it was the last thing he needed.

"Well," Grey began with a cough. "I was...," he paused for a moment. Looked at the near naked Irish maiden before him, sighed, "I needed to piss."

"Good sign," she said smiling at him with twinkling green eyes and a little laugh. "Looks like ye need a hand."

"I..," Grey stammered in shock.

"Trust me, I have seen more than a few cocks in my days." Erin sidestepped to stand behind him. Dropping her blanket on the way.

Grey nodded his head, the pinch he was feeling from his full bladder was becoming quite intense.

Erin reached over and with one hand and unbuckled Grey's belt. She then stood behind him, hot breast meat was pushed into Grey's naked back.

"Ok, careful over that big cut," Grey said with a painful gasp. Erin gingerly slid Grey's pants down his legs along with her naked breasts down his bare back.

Grey felt his cock swell as hardening nipples poked the small of his back. Then as she moved the pants down further, Grey felt the large heavy breasts roughly rub against his lower back.

Both hands gripped his cock, one at the base the other the shaft below his circumcised head. Grey grunted as his cock was rapidly hardening.

"Ok Grey, show us that killer aim," Erin said with a giggle.

"What?" Grey's pitch heightened as the hand on the base of his cock suddenly shifted to cupping his balls.

"Piss, it's what you are out here for. Or do you need a hand with that?" Her lust filled Irish brogue almost indecipherable.

Grey scooted up on his toes again with a little grunt and a squirt of piss. Erin had allowed her pinky to tickle his asshole.

"What's the matter, Grey, can't concentrate? Do you need a hand," Erin sniggered.

"I.... I," Grey stammered.

"Oh you poor thing," Erin removed her pinky, stood and allowed her bare nipples to graze Grey's back. Erin breathlessly whispered into Grey's ear, "Let it go."

Fully erect Grey sighed with satisfaction as his cock finally erupted with a strong powerful stream of warm urine. Erin giggled as she directed the ribbon of piss into intricate patterns. Slowly as Grey's bladder emptied the patterns became squiggles and drips into the parched soil.

"Better?" Erin breathed into Grey's ear, before sliding her wet tongue over the arch of his ear.

"Better," Grey said. "You have me desperate to release another round."

"Oh really," Erin said as she gave the hardening cock in her hand a solid wank. Grey responded by hissing in pleasure and pain and arching up on his toes. "Same gun?" Erin enquired as she stopped the spow wanks.

"Different rounds," Grey said. Turning his head to the side he looked at the young woman, her nude pale shoulders dappled with freckles. "Wont..." Grey stopped as she put her finger up against his lips.

"He hasn't shown me a lick of interest, I am to cook and to clean." Erin grinned wickedly. I have way more skills than that.

Erin led him then through the front door past his sick bed and into a cleaner and brighter. How she led him was the key. Erin's dainty pale fingers curled around Grey's erect cock and gently she led him. Her round white ass wobbled in a hypnotic way. Turning her breasts wobbled pink nipples, red pubic hair and freckles, topped with a wicked grin and an extended finger pointing to the oozing cock head.

"Now ain't that a sight for a young impressionable lass." Erin bit her bottom lip, her finger trailing pre-cum around Grey's circumcised cock head.