The Drifter - Part 2

Injured and desperate for a haven, the Drifter (Alex Jones) slips into a forgotten cabin, the door creaking open under his weight. The silence is broken by the *snap* of a shotgun’s hammer, and Sarah Arabic, the sheriff’s wife, steps into the shadows, her eyes locked on him. With a smirk, she aims the gun at his chest, but as he winces in pain, her grip softens. She kneels beside him, her fingers tracing the gash on his arm, and begins to tend to his wound with slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re the first man I’ve seen in weeks,” she murmurs, her voice a velvet whisper. Alex’s gaze drifts to her lips, then up her body—her tits, heavy and ripe, swaying as she leans closer. He grips her hips, pulling her down, and his mouth closes around her nipple, his tongue swirling, teasing, before he moves to her pussy, his lips pressing against her folds, his fingers curling into her thighs as she arches into him. Sarah’s moans grow louder, her body trembling as his cock finds its way into her, sliding in with a wet, hot thrust. She wraps her legs around his waist, riding him like a wild horse, her nails scraping down his back, her breath ragged against his neck. The cabin fills with the sound of their gasps, the scent of sweat and desire thickening the air. But Alex doesn’t notice the sheriff’s badge on her belt, nor the bounty hunter’s silhouette in the doorway, his eyes gleaming with hunger. As Sarah’s fingers dig into his shoulders, the gun’s report echoes—*bang!*—and the bounty hunter’s hand slams the trigger. The Drifter’s cock is buried deep, his body shaking as Sarah’s climax hits, but the sheriff’s wife’s scream pierces the moment. Who will survive the quick-draw? The gun’s smoke curls around them, and the answer is written in the heat of their bodies, the slickness of her thighs, and the roar of the standoff that follows.