Blackshot Sixshooter Collection

by Kurt Barker

  As he struggled to free himself Blackshot felt the wetness of blood against his side, and remembered the wound he had given Rudy just before they had clashed. His fingers searched down the bandit's side until they found the bloody hole is his thigh where the bullet had passed, and he drove his thumb into the wound with all his might.

  Rudy let out a roar of agony and brought a huge fist crashing into Blackshot's stomach. However, his other arm had slacked its pressure just enough for Blackshot to wriggle free. As he worked to fend off the big man's raging blows, he spotted the heavy iron pot lying on its side on the floor just a couple of feet away. Blackshot could feel a mighty hand close around his throat, and he lunged toward the pot with all his strength. He felt the iron in his hand, and swung it with all the strength in his powerful arm against the bandit's head.

  The impact stunned the big man, knocking him back onto his knees. Blackshot did not give him a chance to recover. He brought the heavy weight smashing into his opponent's head again with vicious power. Rudy fell back onto the floor, blood streaming from his forehead. His hands groped at Blackshot's sweat-drenched torso, but without their previous strength. Blackshot stood astride the giant outlaw and raised the iron over his head with both hands. Then he brought it flashing down with all the power left in his body, crushing the big man's skull with a titanic blow. Rudy's arms fell limply to the ground, and blood ran from his ears and pooled on the dirt floor around his head. He would not move again.

  Blackshot stepped back and wiped his brow with a shaking arm, his heart thumping like a locomotive in his chest. Suddenly the arms of the woman were around his waist, and her hot cheek was pressed against his broad chest. He put an arm around her trembling back and held her to him.

  “That was pretty good shooting,” he said with a grin, running a hand through her tousled hair. “You handle a gun like a pro.”

  She looked up at him with a shy smile, and he wiped the blood from her lips with his thumb. “Thank you,” she said softly. “If you hadn't come....”

  “Well, you don't have to worry about them any more. They won't be troubling anybody but the earthworms from now on.”

  They stood together like that without speaking for a few moments. Then the woman lifted her eyes to his again, and she smiled. “My name's Carrie, Carrie McGinnity. Welcome to my house,” she said with a laugh. “What's your name, mister?”

  “Why, you are speaking with none other than the mighty Tom Blackshot!” boomed a voice from behind them.

  Blackshot spun around to see a man standing in the doorway leveling a pistol right at his chest. The man was tall and lean, with dark beady eyes and a curving brown mustache and goatee on his lined face. He wore a fine burgundy riding suit and a gray top hat, which he raised to them in a mocking show of gentility.

  “I am Joseph Castle,” he said. “It is a pleasure to finally meet the great man face to face.”

  Chapter 8

  “I really should thank you, Mr. Blackshot,” Gentleman Joe Castle continued as he stepped into the house. “Dealing with those Camacho cutthroats once I had the deed in hand was going to be a tricky business! You've saved me a lot of trouble.”

  Blackshot pushed Carrie behind him and held her so that he was between her and Castle. Joe Castle stepped to the side to put his back to the wall, keeping his gun trained on Blackshot.

  “Let's not have any funny business,” he snapped. “You know what I'm here for. Hand over the deed or you and the little lady die right now.”

  “Fine,” Blackshot replied. He knelt down and Castle's hand twitched on the gun. “Take it easy. I put the deed in my boot.”

  Blackshot drew a wrinkled envelope from his boot and tossed it on the table as he stood up. “There you go,” he said. “That's what you've been cheating and swindling and killing for.”

  Gentleman Joe's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He motioned with a flick of the gun barrel toward the back of the room. “Back away from it,” he said. “Nice and slow.”

  Blackshot backed toward the rear of the room, keeping Carrie behind his back. He could feel the pounding of her heart through the bare flesh of her breasts against his back. Castle sidled to the table, still keeping his gun and attention on Blackshot.

  “This had better not be a trick,” he snarled, reaching for the envelope. “If the deed isn't in here, you'll be sorry you crossed me! You'll both be sorry!”

  “It's the deed alright; the deed to Hell that I promised you!” Blackshot growled. He raised a hand, and Castle saw that he was holding a rope. It was not until he saw Blackshot give the rope a powerful jerk that he realized that he was standing on the fallen curtain.

  The pistol roared and sent a bullet splintering into a ceiling rafter as Castle's feet flew out from under him. He landed hard on his back, and he struggled to push himself onto an elbow to take another shot. By the time he had managed it, he was looking into the twin barrels of the sentry's shotgun with the humorless grin on Blackshot's hard face behind them. Then all he saw was a rush of white flame.

  Blackshot let loose with both barrels straight into Gentleman Joe Castle's midsection. The pistol flew from his hand as the blast cut him in two, spreading his guts in a long bloody smear that reached the door posts.

  “Nice doing business with you,” Blackshot spat, throwing the shotgun down into the remains of the dead villain. He retrieved the deed from the table and returned it to his boot. Carrie was huddled against the wall in the corner of the room, her eyes wide and frightened. Blackshot pulled the tablecloth from the table and went to her. He wrapped the cloth around her bare shoulders and led her out the back door into the cool night air, away from the scene of gore and carnage inside.

  They circled around the house to the front yard where the old well stood faintly illuminated in the light from the window against the black hills behind it. In the heat of battle Blackshot had forgotten his thirst, but now its remembrance had returned more keenly than ever.

  “Tell me that well's not dry,” he rasped.

  Carrie pushed out of his arms and hurried toward a tin bucket that sat by the base of the pump. “It sure ain't!” she called over her shoulder. “It's the only thing in this blasted hell hole that still works worth a damn!”

  She spread the tablecloth on the smooth turf near the well and motioned Blackshot to sit down. Then she set to work at the pump, and soon a rush of cool, fresh water was filling the bucket. Between the clear water and the motion of Carrie's barely-covered body at the pump, Blackshot didn't think he had even seen such a fine sight in his life. He took the bucket from Carrie's hands and emptied it almost as fast as it had been filled. She filled it again and he scooped water onto his face and neck and then across his aching shoulders and back.

  Carrie smiled as she watched him. “I don't know where you came from, but I'm sure glad you came,” she said.

  “What are you doing out in a place like this all alone?” Blackshot asked.

  “That was my husband's bright idea!” she said with a sigh. “ 'It's a long way between cities on this road,' he said, 'We'll build a roadside inn and rake in the money from all the travelers'. Well, he never finished building anything bigger than this shack, and then he was gone and I was left out here to get on by myself.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” Blackshot said. “When did he die?”

  “Die? He's not dead-- dead drunk, maybe! When I said he was gone, I meant that he took up with some whore and ran off to Mexico with her! That must have been near six months ago now.”

  “You're better off without him,” Blackshot chuckled. “If he left a woman like you he must have been some special kind of a fool.”

  Carrie smiled, then her face turned serious. “You won't leave me, will you? You'll take me with you where you're going?” she asked. “I'm through with this dump for good.”

  “Sure, I'm on my way to Carver City, and I'd be glad for your company.”

  “Carver City sounds perfect to me; anywhere but here sounds perfect, really.” Ca
rrie took the bucket and got to her feet. “But that's something to think about in the morning,” she said. “Right now I'll get you some more water.”

  “I'm fine now. Don't trouble yourself.” Blackshot replied as she went to the pump.

  “It's no trouble,” Carrie said, as she filled the bucket. “After all you've been through....,” she turned to him, and the tattered dress slipped to the ground. She raised the bucket above her head and tipped it slowly toward her, sending the water cascading onto her luscious round breasts and running across the ridges of her ribs that stood out against her taut skin, and down her flat stomach to her broad, creamy thighs and wetting the strip of dark blonde hair between them. “...you deserve a nice drink!”

  Blackshot pulled her to him and crushed his lips to hers. Carrie responded hungrily, parting her warm, soft lips for his tongue to explore her mouth. He took her by the shoulders and held her back from him; the beads of water on her full, ripe melons glistened in the faint light. Blackshot brought one of the tender mounds to his mouth and let his tongue run along its full length. Carrie groaned softly as he caught the pink nipple between his teeth and suckled it to a hard peak. She lifted its twin to his face and rubbed its soft bulge against his rough, unshaven cheek. Blackshot took its tip into his lips and stroked it with his tongue, as Carrie threw back her head with a moan and pressed her flesh further into his mouth.

  Blackshot took two big handfuls of Carrie's voluptuous ass and pulled her body high against him as he explored her belly and hips with his mouth. Her body was firm and slippery against his face, and quivered under his tongue. He slipped his fingers slipped between her cheeks and found the lips of her pussy, wet and warm to his touch, and he pushed them inside of her. She moaned and her body surged against his, as his strong hands did their work until they brought an orgasm rushing through her body.

  Golden strands of hair were falling across Carrie's face, and her gleaming tits rose and fell on her heaving chest. Blackshot felt her slender hands moving against his tightly-muscled abdomen, and he could feel his belt loosen around his waist.

  “I gave you a drink,” Carrie panted, pulling at his fly, “Now I want you to give me a drink.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” Blackshot replied, and slid down his jeans. His manhood had been letting him know that it wanted out ever since he had first kissed her, and he was only too happy to set it free.

  Carrie took the long, thick rod in her little hands and slid them slowly from the tip to the base. She brought her lips to the thick head and kissed it gently, then let her tongue travel along his hard shaft until it was playing along the curve of his balls. Her lips closed around them, and Blackshot groaned as she took his whole ball sack into her warm mouth and sucked firmly. He felt like her lips were hot coals that were kindling a fire inside him.

  Carrie pulled back her head, and Blackshot felt her sultry breath on his pulsing cock. Then she opened her lips wide and took his whole length into her mouth. Her head bobbed vigorously as she sucked his flesh with a voracious desire. He could feel his cock slide repeatedly down her torrid throat, and her arms circled his hips, pulling him as deeply into her mouth as she could.

  Blackshot ran his fingers through Carrie's tawny mane as she continued sucking his rock-hard shaft with a hungry urgency. He could feel the heat flare up in his belly like a wildfire, and he took her hair in his clenched fist and held her head against his body. His hips bucked against her and he filled her mouth with an explosion of hot cum.

  Blackshot's hands unclenched and Carrie pulled her head back, sucking in air as his juices bubbled from her white lips.

  “Your husband was a damn idiot,” Blackshot gasped.

  “You have no idea how horny a gal can get out here all alone,” Carrie puffed with a mischievous smile. “I've been waiting for a drink like that for a long time.”

  She took his cock in her hand and guided it back into her mouth. She moved her lips slowly this time, but with just as much pressure as before. Her big blue eyes looked up into his, and Blackshot felt the spark of desire kindle again. He cupped Carrie's face in his hands and lifted her gently up so that her body moved against his.

  “Is that all you been waiting for?” he hissed into her ear.

  He could see the flames of lust burning in her eyes. “You know what I've been waiting for,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Blackshot wrapped an arm around Carrie's ass and pulled her body tight to him. Her hips pressed to his chiseled abdomen and he could feel the wetness of her bush against the head of his cock. Her swollen breasts bulged hard against his chest, and she breathed heavily, her lips barely an inch from his.

  “The wait is over,” Blackshot said.

  His strong hands drove Carrie's hips downward even as his own surged upward against her, impaling her on his thick shaft. She let out an anguished cry as he drove deeper into her, not stopping until his balls hit her ass.

  Blackshot's powerful arms held her down as he thrust his whole length into her sultry core again and again. Carrie's back arched and she leaned back moaning, her plump tits rolling and bouncing on her chest as each impact shook her body.

  Blackshot laid her back until her shoulders were touching the ground, and bent over her, bringing all the power in his back and legs against her thighs. His cock was hammering with even greater speed and vigor into Carrie's pussy now, his balls slapping hard against her ample ass cheeks, and her sweat-drenched body writhed in the grip of an intense orgasm. Her hair was like a golden veil obscuring her face, with only her mouth visible, open wide as if to scream but with no sound coming out.

  Blackshot could tell that his limit was growing close as well. Carrie's legs wrapped around his back, and he plunged deep into her a final time and let out a groan as his release came in powerful jets, filling her again.

  They collapsed together on the tangled tablecloth and Carrie nuzzled her head against Blackshot's chest. He took her in his arms and held her wet body to his, still inside her.

  Carrie brushed the hair from her face and smiled up at Blackshot. “Y'know what?” she said. “I think this little trip to Carver City is going to be fun.”

  “I've got a feeling it will be, too,” Blackshot replied.

  As was usual when Blackshot got a feeling like that, he turned out to be right.

  The Revenge Master

  Chapter 1

  The faded curtains fluttered limply as a feeble breeze fought vainly against the oppressive midday head. Tom Blackshot stared through them at the clapboard buildings that lined the dusty street a story below. The street was empty and quiet at this time of day, but Blackshot felt an uneasiness gnawing at him for a reason he couldn't place.

  “Am I boring you, sugar?”

  Candy's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He looked down at her where she knelt in front of him, clad only in thigh-high black stockings. Her strawberry blond hair was piled haphazardly atop her head and her ruby lips curled into a mischievous smile, not two inches away from where her hand held his thick, hard cock.

  “You do what you do, and I'll let you know,” Blackshot grinned.

  Blackshot had helped Candy out of a bad situation with her violent former employer when she first came out West almost a year ago, and today he had happened to run into her again as he passed through town. Candy now ran her own independent service, and Blackshot had a pocket full of money from a job getting rid of some dangerous rustlers for a local rancher, so the reunion had turned into a business deal of mutual benefit.

  Candy brought her lips to Blackshot's balls, taking them into her mouth and letting her tongue play across their rough surface. He groaned as she released them from her lips and ran her tongue slowly along his long, rigid shaft until she reached the tip. She teased the head with her tongue, giving Blackshot an impish smirk, then guided it into her mouth and slowly took in his length. Her plump creamy breasts jiggled as she sucked hungrily. Candy had the best body of any of the whores in town, or any of the other towns around it for tha
t matter, so she was always in high demand, but she had been happy to make time for Blackshot. Hell, with a rod like his and the way he could use it, she would have had sex with him for free, not that she was about to tell him that.

  Blackshot fingers clenched as Candy's lips worked expertly, and he felt the familiar fire kindling in his belly. He grabbed a handful of her unkempt mane and drove his full length into her mouth with a grunt. She urged his broad head to the back of her warm, wet throat, still sucking vigorously, her hands rubbing his balls. His brain swam as he felt her tongue working in time with his thrusts, bringing him to the verge of exploding. With a groan his hips bucked and his release filled her mouth in a sudden rush. He pulled her head back and drew his pulsing member from her lips, leaving a trail of hot cum spilling down her chin.

  “Worth the money?” Candy inquired, licking her lips with a roguish gleam in her eye.

  “I'm not finished spending it yet,” Blackshot growled. He raised her to her feet and gripping her slender waist, lifted her onto the bed. Candy arched her back and moaned as his broad, powerful hands kneaded her full breasts until they swelled hard beneath his fingers. She spread her soft thighs as he bowed over her, and took hold of his manhood in her hand, slowly coaxing it back to steely rigidity. She guided it toward her until the tip brushed through the strip of dark blonde hair above the warm, wet lips of her entrance.

  It was just then that a flash of movement outside the window caught Blackshot's eye, and the sound of hooves clattered in the street below. He glanced out through the curtains and saw a pair of horses drawing up outside the bank at corner of the main street. Astride them were two tough-looking riders; one long and lean like a rattlesnake, and the other a thick bull of a man. As they swung down from their mounts the silver barrels of their revolvers glinted in the sun.

  Blackshot looked down at his own black Colts in their oiled leather holsters draped across the chair in the corner. This wasn't his problem. He wasn't he law here. No one was paying him. Besides, he was busy. He looked down at Candy, her soft creamy skin flushed with desire, his shaft poised against her inviting pussy. Almost against his will, his eyes drew away from her and fixed on the window again. He heard the faint sound of breaking glass.