Wilder West Ch. 02

Sitting back he watched as the old whore licked her lips clean of his spunk and then smiled up at him. "More," she said.

Gabriel scrambled off her chest and stood alongside the bed, panting.

"More, more, more," his mother insisted, throwing back at him the words he'd used earlier in the session. In the treatment? When the old woman wasn't Mrs. Franck? Shaking his head as if waking from a dream Gabriel realized it wasn't really his mother lying on the bed; it was one of his patients -- Agnes Thompson. He stood perplexed, unsure of what to do.

"You want more?" said a voice from the other side of the bed, drawing Agnes's challenging eyes away from Gabriel. "Try some of this." The scissor assistant mounted the bed, squatting down over Mrs. Thompson's eager mouth. Agnes had never eaten pussy before, but Molly assured her it was wonderful.

Frances Redmond lowered her dripping gash to the old lady's lips, immediately coating them in tangy juice. Not the same powerful taste as man cum, but good and exciting in its own way, thought Agnes as Molly thrust her host's tongue straight into her long time lover's twat.

Frances had thought many times over the years since she'd first been drawn into Molly's influence that she should quit O'Reilly's, that something was wrong there that made her do all these taboo things. But in the end her desire kept her in place; Dr. Franck's most trusted assistant, the one in fact who had seduced him in his office one day and introduced him to the world of pleasures to be had in a hospital full of lonely people with thin grips on reality.

Now she rested her pussy on Agnes/Molly's pretty mouth, imagining thick red hair spread out below her instead of thin white curls. Frances had been with Molly so many times via so many different people that she could almost see her, peeking through the thin tissue masks of other people's faces; the glinting green eyes, the rosy lips, the translucent skin.

Reg was stroking away at the old broad's cunt, but was having trouble getting a good angle with her legs stuck in place. Juan moved around and undid the tubing connecting her feet to the bed rails then went ahead and did the same for her hands. Reg bent her legs at the knees and lifted her old ass off the bed so he could really start pounding her surprisingly tight puss.

Agnes was trying to follow Molly's lead and suck Frances's flower properly, but she was so enthralled by the good fucking she was getting that all she could really do was grunt into the secretary's box and lap at it with her tongue.

Frances took it upon herself to stop waiting for the old woman and to simply start fucking Mrs. Thompson's face. She ground her vertical lips against Agnes's horizontal ones, swiveling her hips and rocking back and forth. When she leaned forward she got pressure on her tingling clit, when she leaned back she felt the woman's nose pressing against her back door.

Molly could feel Dr. Franck beginning to slip away as his confusion burned through his opium haze. She had Agnes reach down with her newly freed hands to push her giant sagging tits together and hold them out to Gabriel. Like a hypnotist's subject staring at a swinging watch, the twisted psychiatrist was mesmerized by the undulations of the old woman's breasts as she massaged and rotated them.

Franck climbed back onto the bed and dove into Mrs. Thompson's pillows, smothering them with kisses, licks and bites. As he teased the swollen tips with his tongue Agnes's moans grew louder.

Juan Gutierrez had never given a damn about whether a woman came or not when he was fucking her, but now he felt compelled to reach down and rub the ex-rich bitch's clit. Looking at her wrinkled old gash being pounded by Reg, which made the roll of belly fat above her crotch jiggle nastily wasn't the hottest thing the Mexican orderly had ever seen. But as he continued to stare he swore the old woman's skin was becoming taut and smooth, her close cropped gray-black bush looked more like red silk, and the fleshy, bland-colored pussy lips clutching at Reg's cock became smoother, pinker, fucking beautiful! Seeing things through Molly's red haze made him happy to play with the pretty pussy and somehow he knew just how firm and fast to rub the tender button.

Agnes had never known such pleasure. A nice, hard cock was slamming her love hole, another man was making desperate love to her breasts, and a third was rubbing her long forgotten clitoris in a way she had never known. On top of that, throw in the pure wickedness of having a woman rubbing her cunny all over Agnes's face and Mrs. Thompson was on the verge of the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced.

Frances could sense the explosion coming and lifted her crotch slightly to allow Agnes to breathe easily. Juan registered the impending orgasm and picked up his pace to bring her all the way home. Reg felt the woman clamping down on his cock and threw himself into the race to see who could come first and hardest, pounding her even faster.

Panting and grunting Agnes climbed higher and higher in anticipation. When she felt the powerful cock inside her gushing and filling her with hot seed she lost it and the passion flowed over her like a wall of water through a busted dam. She screamed in pleasure, throwing her head side to side. One hand pulled Dr. Franck tighter against her chest, the other reached down and clenched the shoulder of the magical clit rubber as she reveled in her first orgasm in more than twenty years and the best orgasm of her life to boot.

When finally she began to come down from her high, her breaths coming slower and deeper she let Franck escape from her sweating breasts, gasping for breath himself. Juan stopped rubbing her clit and instead rubbed his sore shoulder which he just knew was going to bruise. Reginald McPherson leaned back on his haunches, spent cock dangling between his legs, in disbelieving shock that some old bat in her 50's or 60's may have been the best piece of pussy he'd ever dipped his wick into.

Frances bent over the old lady's face and kissed her, tasting her own pussy juice on the patient's lips. "Wasn't that great?" she cooed. "You were magnificent."

"I...I never..."

"I'll bet you haven't," the asylum secretary laughed. She kissed the woman again, parting Agnes's lips with her tongue and the old woman responded, bringing her own tongue out to wrestle. Frances broke the lip lock and hovered above Mrs. Thompson's face, looking deeply into her eyes for a hint of flashing green.

"That...that was nice," Agnes said shyly.

"The kiss...or all of it?" Frances teased.

Agnes blushed and couldn't answer.

"Guess what?" said Frances. Agnes's eyes opened wider in question. "It's not over," the younger woman growled. "It's not nearly over."

With that she sprang back into her previous position, kneeling astride Agnes Thompson's face, pressing her dripping wet pussy to the woman's mouth. That mouth opened and began using lips and tongue to explore Frances's pussy, to gather in her warm juices.

Reg rolled out from between Agnes's legs and Juan quickly took his place. Taking his semi-erect prick in hand he slapped it against the old woman's cum- dripping pussy to bring it to life. The abused patient jumped at the first blows as the shocks ran through her tender lips and clit. Then she began thrusting her hips forward, seeking out the new cock, the next cock. Juan ran his swollen tip up and down her wet lips a few times and then thrust deep; forcing his buddy's left-behind spunk to ooze out of the well-fucked cunt.

Dr. Franck squeezed and massaged the massive breasts as he stared at Frances's pussy being eagerly eaten by Mrs. Thompson just inches in front of him. His secretary smiled down at him wickedly. One thing she'd learned about her boss was that he loved to eat pussy. True, he would often mumble about eating "mommy" while he was between her legs, but he got the job done.

"Do you want some of this Dr. Gabe?" she crooned. "Do you want to lick my hot, wet pussy after Mrs. Thompson?" He could only nod yes. "Agnes darling," the face squatter purred. "You're sucking my cunny so nicely, so nicely. Now I want you to do something else for me. I want you to lick my ass." The female member of Dr. Franck's gang rape squad scooted forward just a bit so that her tight rosebud was directly above Agnes's mouth.

This pushed her wet pussy forward so Gabriel could easily begin his feast. "That's right, doctor," she encouraged him. "Lick my pussy, suck my clit, drink my fuck juice." The dirty talk goaded him into more desperate attacks on her cunt.

Turning her attention back to their patient she instructed, "Go ahead, darling, stick your tongue out, stick it out and lick my dirty asshole." The dazed old woman did as she was told, reaching out gingerly for Frances's brown eye. "Mmm, that's nice," the secretary cooed. "Keep it up, love, get my butthole nice and wet, really tickle me there, it feels so good."

Juan was definitely at full length and hardness now as he stroked in and out, enjoying sloppy seconds in the old broad's cunt. He'd been expecting her to be loose and floppy at her age, but was pleasantly surprised to feel he was getting lots of friction even with Reg's cream inside the hole. The weirdest thing was, when he squinted he could swear he saw a hot, young red head beneath him instead of an old gray puta.

Frances's pussy always ran juicy, which pleased Dr. Franck no end. But today she was positively gushing and her pubic hair looked redder than he'd ever seen it. He'd noticed many times over the years that Frances's hair, both on her head and her crotch somehow seemed to gain a reddish tint as their passion grew. Now there was no tint about it, it was fucking red -- dark from being soaked in vaginal juices, but fucking red. And red pussy was fucking delicious he thought as he dived back into his secretary's love hole.

Patient Thompson had let her inhibitions go and was doing a wonderful job reaming out Frances's sensitive asshole. She'd gone from licking with the flat of her tongue to turning that tongue into a stiff little prick that was poking deeper and deeper into the younger woman's anus. Doc Franck was also going above and beyond in his attention to her front hole, although when Frances looked down she saw that the good doctor had grown a head full of thick, red hair. "Oh, baby!" she cried to her phantom lover as she saw her more solidly than ever before. "You are so beautiful. Eat me, baby, eat me out with your pretty mouth."

Molly/Gabriel zeroed in on the woman's swollen clit and Molly/Agnes jammed her tongue as deep as she could into the woman's dirty ass. Molly/Frances felt the orgasm rolling toward her like feeling an approaching train through the rails. Then that fucking locomotive was charging through and taking her on an unforgettable ride like it had lost its brakes going down a mountain. The ghost screamed in pleasure through the secretary's throat and together they shook uncontrollably through the whole long ride to the bottom.

The wicked slut's howl of passion was the last straw for Molly/Juan and he grabbed the full, womanly hips and slammed his cock as deep as he could into the tight, red pussy, letting out a strangled howl himself as he added his hot cum to Reg's earlier load.

'Oh, God, I'm licking an asshole and I can taste her pussy juice running into my mouth from her orgasm,' thought Agnes in disbelieving pleasure. "And a second cock is exploding inside of you," added her Irish-sounding mental companion. "Fucking you harder than you've ever been fucked in your life and filling you with gallons of hot spunk."

"Unh, unh, unh," grunted Agnes before screaming out as she experienced yet another first in her life -- her first multi-orgasmic sex session.

Slowly the three chain reaction lovers came down from their climaxes; moaning, panting, gasping for breath. Juan pulled loose and slumped back against the footboard, watching the cream ooze from the hot cunt. Agnes let her head slump back on the mattress, running her tongue around her lips to gather Frances's juices. Frances sat back on her ass to the side of Mrs. Thompson's head, leaning back against the headboard and stretching out her cramped legs. Frances laughed. "Well, there's a trick that turned into a treat," she declared.

"What do you mean?" asked Reg from the chair where he'd been watching the show.

"It's Halloween, right?" the secretary replied. "And we came here to pull a hell of a trick on a poor old woman. Well, I don't know about you, but it turned into a hell of a treat for me." She reached out and stroked the gray curls on Mrs. Thompson's head. "And I think a hell of a treat for you too, darling?"

Agnes pulled the younger woman's hand to her lips and kissed it. "More like a heaven of a treat...a heavenly treat."

'Halloween?' thought Molly. 'No wonder I feel so...so real, so alive! Halloween has always been my night, hasn't it?"

SILVERTON -- 1872: 'Halloween. My night!' thought young Miss Molly McCoy as she put on her costume. This year - her third Halloween at O'Reilly's, having arrived just a few weeks longer than two years ago - she was going to be a spirit, a ghost. It was the Irish who had brought the customs of dressing in spooky costumes with them to the New World and America was increasingly embracing the traditions of the old Celtic holy day; and just as in so many things, Seamus O'Reilly's' was leading the way. His public party in the main and outer rooms of the saloon/hotel was renowned for its musical and dance entertainment and its generous buffet and special low bar prices. The private party at the end of the southern wing of the hotel was even more renowned among those who earned an invitation by being a loyal customer or somehow influential in the community and beyond.

The private party was where Molly ruled the night. Seamus had early recognized his cousine's unique talents when it came to organizing the girls and putting together really spectacular events, so now he just worried about managing the large public party and let his cousin's hot daughter take care of things in the brothel.

As Molly wriggled into her tight white costume, enticingly tailored by the Chinese husband and wife tailor/seamstress team that Seamus kept on staff, she ran through her mind again how her Haunted House would work. The special guests, which tonight included the Governor and a US Senator (Seamus cleverly combined his Halloween party with a celebration of the anniversary of Nevada's statehood so the politicians could claim state pride instead of horniness as their reason for attending) would be shuttled from room to room by assorted sprites, witches and succubi - each adding her own special touch to building the guest's arousal. When the lucky victim finally made his way through a collection of zombie attacks, dancing skeletons and simulated executions, he would find himself in the O'Reilly inner sanctum -- the orgy room.

Out in the main hall the public party was shifting into high gear with the Honorable Senator of the Battle Born State of Nevada giving a rousing address on the state's importance to the nation. The fact that some of the very dishonorable thoughts he was harboring about O'Reilly's Girls made there way into his speech and that his audience was already half drunk made it the success it was.

Now it was time for Seamus's special touch for this year's party. The curtains opened on the stage, exposing a gnarled old woman sitting at a table. Silver mine torches focused by mirrors cast a spotlight on a cloudy crystal globe in the middle of the table. The old hag stared intently into the ball and megaphones mounted under the table amplified her voice as she mumbled and chanted in her ancient Roma language.

"Who wants to talk to the dead?" Seamus asked the hushed crowd. "Some call her Gypsy, some call her witch, some call her blessed, but whatever you call her if you are willing to open your spirit to the great beyond she will put you in touch with the dearly departed."

"Let's hear from President Lincoln," cried out one wag.

"And General Lee," said another. "They can debate each other." The crowd laughed.

"Ask my uncle John where he buried his money so I don't have to keep digging holes in the backyard." More laughter.

"Ladies, Gentlemen," Seamus remonstrated the crowd. "Surely there's someone who can feel the spirits around us. It is All Hallows Eve, my friends. Is no one brave enough to reach through the dark veil and touch the other side this most special of nights?"

"Sure 'n I'll give it a try, Seamus," said a patron dressed as a hanged man, a length of rope dangling from his neck.

"Come on up here then, William," encouraged the host. "Who else?"

Soon there were three men and two women seated at the table with the old crone. One at a time she took their hands in hers, staring into their eyes and continuing to chant. Each one was glad to get his or her hands back; a weird feeling ran down your spine when the gypsy held you with her surprisingly strong grip.

At the fourth person, the second woman, she stopped, her eyes growing larger and her chanting increasing in volume and rate. The woman, in a Marie Antoinette gown, was beginning to freak out and almost ready to yank her hands away when the old witch stopped on her own and said quietly in her creepy accent, "You. You are open to the spirits. Place your hands on the crystal."

The spooked woman gingerly reached out and gripped the base of the globe with her fingertips; the old woman did the same from her side. The others at the table stared intently into the glass ball, their doubts falling aside as they saw its milky interior begin to swirl as if the insides had suddenly turned from crystal to smoke.

A smallish crowd stood around the table, looking for the trick; while many others who couldn't get close enough for a good look went back to the main party, enjoying their drinks and the increasingly loose company.

Two who quickly gave up on the séance in search of different Halloween treats were the governor and senator. Walking up to Seamus they shook his hand and slapped his back and congratulated him on yet another wonderful party and thanked him for doing so much for the community and hum-a-na, hum-a-na

"Well thank you for doing me the honor of attending our humble soiree," their cheerful host replied. Continuing on as if the next was not exactly what the two politicos were waiting for, Seamus asked, "Are you fine gentlemen in the mood for going through our Haunted House in the spirit of the night?" He pointed, indicating the Haunted House was down the hallway of the southern wing where each man had visited many times with great pleasure.

Entering a door guarded by one of Seamus's giants the two VIPs found themselves stumbling along a darkened path formed by floor to ceiling sheets of black cloth. The illustrious Senator walked straight into one of the false walls and realized he was in a dead end cul-de-sac. Before he could get himself turned around he felt strong hands grabbing him at ankle and knee, holding him in place. He looked down but couldn't see anything as his assailants' black-clad arms and hands were invisible in the gloom. However, he could see a pair of arms covered in billowing white reaching out from the wall directly in front of him. The pale hands with long black fingernails went straight for his crotch, grabbing for his penis and balls through his pants.

Getting separated from his companion, the Governor was also accosted by strong hands, but while these held him in place by his arms a black, and therefore invisible, chair was slid into the back of his knees, causing him to sit with a thump. The strong arms kept him seated while some decidedly more delicate hands began running their fingers through his hair and caressing his cheeks.