The Last One Standing

She screamed when the head plunged up inside her. He stopped and waited for her ass to adjust. It was obvious that this was her first time, in this way. She was so tight that he felt she was cutting the circulation off in his cock. He remained that way, with his cock throbbing inside her ass, until he felt it loosening. With a little shove he forced his way inside more. She screamed again and struggled in his arms. He paid no attention. His cock wanted relief. He held her rounded hips in his trembling hands, while he slowly pumped in and out of her perfect little ass. He cried in delight. The sound was almost echoed by her. He didn’t know if it was out of pain or pleasure. He didn’t care.

John now slid in and out of her ass methodically. She no longer struggled, but she did not seem to be enjoying it. He filled his hands with her small breasts. His fingers twirled her hard nipples. He would have like to kiss her, but he knew he would only get a face full of saliva. When he leaned close he found her hair smelled like woodsmoke.

Pounding away rhythmically, he felt the fire in his loins boiling. He knew his first time wouldn’t take long. He seldom masturbated and it had been a long time since his last sex. The shapely Indian maiden was the best fuck he’d ever had. Of course all previous experiences had been with whores.

The girl began to chatter softly. John didn’t understand the words, but he liked her voice. It was low and soothing. The liquid heat in his balls reached a crest and the whole world seemed to pause. John tightened his ass muscles and tried to wait, but there was no holding back. He exploded forcefully. He jerked and panted, with his face pressed into her black hair. His cock emptied it’s contents into her hot ass. She rubbed her ass back against him and he suddenly realized that she had been enjoying it, although not as much as he. She hissed her displeasure as the spurts of cum stopped and he relaxed. Now, when she tried to grind her ass against him, it was painful on his sensitive member. He gasped and pulled out. He stumbled back and sat on his haunches, breathing hard and staring at her still perfect ass before him.

She was certainly one hot little bitch. John eyed her for a moment, then went to the river and washed up. He returned to the fire, once again wishing that the Indians drank coffee. He sawed another chunk off the piece of meat and began chewing.

“Ala shana,” the girl said. She nodded toward her upraised hands. John smiled and shook his head.
“Not a chance, sweetie. The first chance you get you would cut my throat. Nope, I plan on giving you a good fucking, then I’ll leave. I might even cut you down before I do,” he said, chewing thoughtfully.

John took another drink, looked around, checking for unwanted visitors, then took down the rope holding the woman in the tree. She gasped in relief. He knew her shoulders must have been pulling out of the sockets, she had been in the tree for an hour.

John pulled her over to a downed cottonwood. It lay about three feet off the ground, in one area. He rounded the tree and tied it off on a limb. The girl lay bent over the trunk of the tree, with her shapely ass presented for his hardening cock. He slid up against her and let his partially hardened cock rest against her pussy, while he cupped her small breasts in his hands. He mashed them gently. In moments his cock was hard and throbbing again.

She hissed in excitement when he pressed his cock against her sweet pussy. She inched back, forcing his cock up inside her. The heat and wetness were heavenly. John closed his eyes and savored every inch of hot, throbbing cock as it filled her pussy. He had never felt anything so exciting.

The Indian was also enjoying the unorthadoxed fuck. Her breath came out in a harsh gasp. She began working her pussy backwards against him, thrusting backwards in an obscene but sexy way. He held her hips in his hands and thrust forward to meet her. Her pussy was hot and wet. She had become very excited while he fucked her ass. She was very tight, gripping his cock like a strong hand. She worked her muscles on his shaft.

John paused occasionally with his cock pressed entirely inside the little woman, enjoying the heat on his sensitive member. Indian or not, she was a very exciting girl. He knew she would remain in his thoughts for a long time.

She whispered something in her own language and turned to look over her shoulder. There was a look of entreaty in her eyes. He didn’t understand the language, but he was sure she wanted to change positions, it was becoming painful for her.

He stopped and rolled her over on her back. He knew it was a little painful for her, with the hard log resting against her shoulder blades, but it was only temporary. Taking a chance, with his cock still fully inserted and her legs spread like a frog, he took her tied hands slid them over his head. She supported her own weight this way. He gathered up each of her legs and held them tightly together, against his chest. With her beautiful legs captured in his grasp, he now began pounding away in her open pussy. It was beautiful, just plain beautiful. Her pussy was slightly squeezed between her closed, upturned legs and looked sexy as hell. His glistening cock slid easily in and out, but her pussy was even tighter, in this constrained position. He could tell by the passion in her eyes that she was enjoying it too.

She whispered to him, licking her sweet red lips and speaking almost constantly in her incomprehensible language. She seemed to be whispering encouragement, possibly promises, or encouragement. There was no longer any hostility in her face or her attitude. If there had been it was remotely possible that she could have killed him, with her hands tied behind his head. She seemed only interested in pleasure.

She looked at him with her passion clouded eyes and he knew she would enjoy her impending orgasm immensely, then she would kill him without a second thought.

John stopped, took her arms from around his neck, and he flipped her over on the long once more. He then plunged up into her quivering pussy with long, hard thrusts of his hard cock. She cried out as his vengeful attack on her upturned pussy, but she held it in place, seeking her own relief. His balls were swinging up into her puss, slapping against her clit. She felt fire clear up to her scalp, at this brutal form of lovemaking. A small part of her identified with the brutality of the moment. A part of her craved this violence, mixed with the most pleasure that a woman could feel. The hot fleshy rode sliding up inside her, touched her where she needed to be touched, with just the right amount of force.

Her pussy lips were being assaulted by his pelvis, being smashed out of shape by the violence of his thrusts. It was blissfully stimulating. She felt the beginning of an orgasm. Although she wanted to remain silent, her body betrayed her. She, a woman who would show no pain, make no noise during childbirth nine months from now, began moaning louder and louder in the throes of passion.

The white man yelled behind her. Her thrust into her a few more times, then yelled again. He stiffened and grabbed her hips violently. He jerked behind her, making low moaning noises. She could feel his hot cum shooting up into her womb. She ground her pussy against him, trying to bring on her own orgasm. He stopped just a moment too soon. She cried out as he stepped away. With her hands still tied to the tree, she tried to look behind herself from beneath her left arm. She said something, a look of pleading in her eyes.

John knew the problem, knew why she was whining. A perverted streak in him considered leaving her tied like that, naked and unfulfilled. Another part could not do it after she had given him so much pleasure. He stepped up to her and pressed his hip against her pussy. She gasped in understanding. She began pushing back against his hip, quickly stimulating her pussy flesh again. The ache and burning inside her soon rekindled into a blazing orgasm. She grunted ever-louder until the orgasm exploded in her loins. She hunched against him, panting like an animal. She shook as she laid on the log. A little whine came from her lips, then she collapsed limply over the log.

John stepped down to the river and washed up real fast. He had spent too much time in an Indian camp for his health. There was no telling who might drop by. He dressed quickly, stepped up on Lefty, and rode over to the downed tree with the naked woman tied across it. He looked into her young face thoughtfully, for a moment. There was no begging, no fear or anger in those eyes. She simply looked at him, blinking and panting softly.

He drew his knife, leaned down and cut the rope from the limb. Saluting her casually, he turned Lefty and rode back across the river. He never looked back.