by Ellie Rowe
When I get home, I pour myself a drink and decide to relax in my favorite recliner in front of my state-of-the-art media center in the living room.
My oil business allows me to enjoy a beautiful ranch home with a lot of space. My favorite part of having so much land and a high-end television is watching porn right in my living room.
I kick off my boots and drop my pants onto the floor, relaxing in nothing but my boxers and white tank top. I enjoy myself as I jump into my recliner and feel the smooth microfiber on my bare legs.
When I turn on the television, it pops up to my favorite porn site automatically. The large window that looks over my ranch stays open. I browse through the different categories debating what I want to watch today.
As I scroll, I find myself looking at the threesome category. While not entirely unusual, in the past, I gravitated toward two girls and a guy.
Now, I search for two guys and a girl. I don’t even pay much attention to the girl in the videos, to be honest. I keep looking at the guys.
The situation confuses me, and I don’t even want to admit it to myself. However, my insecurity disappears when I see a video with a man who looks almost like Liam. Liam has better definition in his calves, but it gives me enough of an image to satisfy my lust.
I slowly stroke the tip of my penis as I watch the Liam look-alike get on his knees and take the other man’s dick in his mouth while the girl masturbates and watches.
I sip my drink and slowly watch the porn like a movie, taking my time and focusing on the head. I remember that Liam knew how delicate the head of the penis was when he had me in his mouth.
My mind fills with a picture of Liam down on his knees in front of me. I see his eyes looking up at me searching for approval as he takes my entire cock and slobbers on it, choking slightly.
In the video, the girl helps the Liam doppelganger by taking turns sucking on the other guy's cock. I feel my erection get rock hard while I picture Liam and Sam taking turns. I want to close my eyes and let them both go at it. I wonder if I could tell who was who with my eyes closed. Both Liam and Samantha suck dick so well, but I think Liam might know my penis better.
A bit of precum escapes from my dick, and I use it to lube my manhood and continue stroking. Suddenly, the moans from the video morph into the moans of Samantha and Liam. Only, Sam’s moans slowly dissipate, until I only hear Liam.
“Yess, fuck me Asher!” he moans.
I picture bending Liam over and dominating him. I start slowly at first, using plenty of lube. I make him beg for me to continue entering him until every inch fills him. I know this will make his dick hard, and I want to make Liam cum from anal stimulation. Sam coaches us in the background, but she speaks softly.
“Yess, fuck him Asher- make him cum the way I make you cum.”
After I fully enter Liam, I feel him push back against me, urging me to push harder. I see nothing in my mind except for his head in a pillow and a muscle arm gripping the sheets.
“I’m gonna cum- I need to cum, fuck Asher!”
I picture him telling me he wants to cum, and he explodes all over himself. I leave him like that while I continue to thrust in and out. Finally, I cum deep inside his asshole while he tells me how much he wants it.
“Fuuuck, holy shit!” I moan.
I open my eyes to see cum all over my hands and boxers. Somehow, it turned into a cowboy gay porn on the television. How cliche. I look to see if anyone can see me through the window, but I don’t notice anyone.
I shut off the television, clean up, and take my drink to bed. I can’t help but wonder if Liam ever thinks of me when he masturbates, but I know we can’t talk about our feelings that freely. I prefer the fantasy anyway. The reality would be too scary, right?
Next time, I’m watching two girls go at it. It’s way less gay.
Thirty-One
Liam
Since my date with Samantha a couple of days ago, I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. I’m in a very confused place in my life right now when I should be perfectly fine.
If I’m being perfectly honest with myself- I feel a lot of resentment towards Samantha. She’s a lovely girl, don’t get me wrong- and I know that her intentions are good (for the most part at least). But the way she has dragged me into this mess when my life was going perfectly fine- it just doesn’t sit right with me.
Not only that- but I actually really like her. She’s an extremely smart and resourceful girl. She’s incredibly hardworking, kind, and caring. But sometimes I worry that she’s a tad selfish. That or just plain oblivious.
She seems to think that she knows best. Like when she wanted me and Asher to get together- it was like she felt like she knew we secretly wanted that. But the thing is- she was wrong.
Before this whole ordeal- I had never even thought about another man in a sexual way- let alone Asher of all people. I can’t help but blame Samantha for the fact that I now can’t stop thinking about this man.
I try to shake him out of my head, but as I lie in bed, having a lazy Sunday morning- my mind begins to drift back to him. Specifically, the way his mouth felt around my cock.
Before I can even fully realize what I’m doing, I reach my hand under the covers and grasp my fully hardened cock. As I begin to slowly stroke myself, I imagine once again how his mouth felt closed around my cock.
His tongue licking me up and down, his teeth grazing me and sending small, exhilarating shivers down my spine. I remember how my dick felt inside of his throat, and how we both thrusted into each other’s mouths while we were cumming.
It was truly amazing, and I’ve never experienced anything like that. All I want right now is to feel that again. I keep envisioning myself fucking his throat out as he lies upside down, hanging off the edge of the very bed I’m lying on right now.
As I stroke myself even harder, I imagine fucking his throat as hard and as fast as I can, while he’s slapping my legs, gasping for a breath of air. I begin to cum at the same time I imagine myself cumming down his throat- him swallowing every single last drop of it.
Afterwards, I just lie in bed, letting my body rest after that pure ecstasy it just felt.
After a short nap, I shower and then decide to take one of the horses out for a quick ride. I have nothing planned for today ranch-wise, and I can’t just sit around the house all day masturbating to another man.
So, a few minutes I’m riding one of my youngest horses- Rodger- down the dirt road, with no particular destination in mind. Or so I thought.
I end up all the way back at the empty barn house where Samantha led Asher and I on the night of our first threesome together. I jump off of Rodger, tie him up, and stare at the building before heading inside.
Once inside, I take a peek around. It looks exactly the same- I don’t think anyone even owns this place anymore.
Being in here takes me back to that night. The night when everything changed.
“Looks like we both had the same idea.”
A voice from my right scares my soul right out of my body. I had no idea anyone was in here. I look around, searching for who the words came from.
A figure emerges from the corner, and it’s Asher. The first thought that goes through my mind is- what the fuck is he doing here? But the second thought- well, I probably don’t have to spell that one out.
“Asher- I didn’t know you were in here. I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”
“No! Stay!” he shouts, in an almost desperate tone.
We lock eyes, and I can see him regretting those words.
“I mean, you don’t have to leave. I was just about to head out anyways.”
“Oh… you sure?”
The two of us have unintentionally sort of drifted towards each other, and we’re now standing just a couple feet apart. The air between us feels particularly thick.
“So um, what brought you here?” He asks.
“Honestly, I was just out riding Rodger and just sort of ended up here.”
“Oh- yeah same. My Minny is tied up out back.”
I nod, continuing to stare at the ground. For some reason- I’m scared to look him in the eyes right now. Maybe it’s because I can feel my dick hardening, or maybe it’s because I don’t want him to see the truth that lies behind my eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
I break, looking into his eyes. And just as I knew it would- something changes. Asher moves closer to me, and somehow, we end up just inches away.
I can feel his breath on my face- and something tells me to get closer- to get just a little taste of him.
Our lips smash together, working in unison. My hands trail up and down his muscular body, while his hands go straight to my cock.
Suddenly, the kiss is broken, and Asher is on his knees before me. He yanks my pants down, and he’s about to grab my cock and close his mouth around it… but something in me changes.
I realize what’s happening, and I push him away from me, sending him skidding across the barn floor.
“What the fuck??” He yells.
Instead of responding, I walk towards him and kick him in the chest, before punching him twice right in the face. Before he can retaliate- I run out of the barn, hop onto Rodger, and gallop away as fast as I can.
Only I don’t go home. I just keep going and going, running away from my thoughts- running away from whatever the fuck just happened. I just have to get away.
Thirty-Two
Samantha
I watch the birds and breathe in the fresh air while visiting Asher on his ranch, and I immediately feel an overwhelming sense of freedom surge through my body.
Asher and I sit on the massive front porch of his house, sipping on beer on a beautiful day.
“Your ranch makes me think of heaven,” I tell him.
Asher looks off into the distance and nods his head vaguely. I believe he would nod at anything right now.
I know Asher likes to come off as the strong and silent type, but he barely talks to me or acknowledges me throughout the visit.
“You seem quiet. Anything on your mind, cowboy?” I ask him.
“I don’t reckon so,” he says calmly, still gazing to the side and avoiding eye contact.
Asher’s aloof attitude starts to irk me to the point that I can’t take it anymore. I position myself in front of Asher and grab him by the collar of his button-down shirt until I force him to look directly at me.
“I know you don’t like to talk about your feelings too much, but I hope you know that you can feel safe with me,” I notify Asher.
He meets my stare momentarily before once again averting his focus.
“Fine. Have it your way,” I sigh and go back to my seat on the front porch and take a sip from my beer.
Asher takes a long, slow sip from his beer, too. He takes his time before seemingly gathering himself and adjusting his chair to face me. Many cowboys struggle to convey strong emotion, and Asher clearly falls into that category.
“Forgive me, Sam. I just have a lot on my mind these days,” he confesses.
I notice him picking the label on his beer out of nervousness, and I start to worry.
“Can you tell me more? Do you feel worried about losing the ranch?” I guess.
“No. I don’t worry about finances at all. One bad deal can’t break me. It’s more personal. I ask myself a lot of questions these days that I never asked myself before,” Asher begins.
I don’t want to interrupt him, so I sit back and attempt to appear casual and unthreatening so that he continues to express himself. I believe that a sincere rhapsodic outburst toward a friend can provide an effective solution for personal turmoil.
“Liam and I had an interesting night the other day,” Asher informs me.
I feel a sense of relief when I hear that.
“Do you mean when we all had that threesome? Asher, you need to relax. We shared a fun experience. Don’t put any more weight on it than necessary,” I chuckle.
“You don’t understand. Liam and I hung out together again alone. We did things together,” he confides in me.
A shocked gasp slightly escapes, but I try to contain myself to avoid making Asher ashamed or uncomfortable. Call me conceited, but I thought Liam and Asher only participated in the threesome so they could both get with me. However, I quickly recognize the beauty of the situation.
“I apologize if you find this too forward, but do you like Liam romantically?” I inquire.
Asher throws his head back in a combination of confusion, frustration, and discomfort. His hat falls onto the ground, and he leaves it there, allowing the sun to blind him.
“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know how I feel about him,” Asher blurts out, squinting from the sun.
The hat gently moves on the patio floor. I pick it up and give it back to him, mostly to give him the vision he needs to examine the situation. He puts the hat back on his head, allowing me to see his pupils again.
“I’m not jealous, in case you are worried about that. You do not need to feel weird about anything, and I think you and Liam make a cute couple,” I say, attempting to show support.
I personally don’t understand his reluctance toward a relationship with Liam. He never once showed this type of distress when talking about girls.
It becomes clearer that I don’t understand when Asher abruptly and aggressively stands up, clenching his fist.
“‘Cute couple’? I am not gay, and you better never say that again!” Asher screams at me, suddenly not afraid to scowl at me with fierce eyes.
Not one to back down, I match his stance but shake a bit inside, unsure of what Asher may do when he feels someone threatened his sexuality. Luckily, my sadistic sperm donor taught me to shoot at a young age (the only good thing he did for me), and I have a gun in my purse if the situation gets out of hand.
After his outburst, Asher becomes aware of how loudly he screamed at me. Before he gives me a semi-remorseful glance, I catch him looking around to ensure no one heard him scream the word “gay.”
“I never should have asked,” I mutter.
“I agree,” Asher grunts.
Asher still portrays guarded body language. I start to understand the dark side of the cowboy mentality a bit more, but I honestly don’t relate.
I enjoy the comfortability to sleep with and love who I choose. Other people judge me, but I don't care. Plus, most people find my sexual adventures hot instead of taboo or embarrassing. I wish Asher felt comfortable enough to enjoy and explore his new fervor.
Asher and I face each other at a heavy standstill. He finally relaxes his posture slightly and sits back down in his seat. However, he covers his face with his hat.
“I want you to leave,” Asher states assertively.
I don’t respond. I simply rush off the property, wiping tears off my cheek.
I don’t care that Asher feels insecure or embarrassed about his sexuality, but he doesn’t need to take it out on me. I realize the tears also come from the possibility of Asher and Liam missing out on a genuine romantic (and business) partnership.
I once again see the birds in the sky, flying freely, and I hope Asher sees them, too.
Thirty-Three
Samantha
When I arrive home from Asher’s ranch, my frustration still exudes from my pores. I find myself angry at Texas and missing New York. Texas men sure know how to fuck, but New York men feel comfortable with themselves. Plus, I miss New York pizza.
I throw open my bedroom door and slam my suitcase onto my bed. I accidentally leave my bedroom door open but don’t regret it until I notice my father (by blood only) standing in the doorway watching me and chewing with a tobacco-saturated dribble of saliva on his chin.
“Heading somewhere?” he asks casually.
“I want to visit Gabriella in New York,” I inform him in a matter-of-fact tone, hoping to intimidate him from fighting with me. I haphazardly toss shoes into the suitcase. I mindlessly pack my cowboy boots before pausing and re
moving them from the bag.
“That sounds like fun. You don’t plan to ask me for money to fund your spontaneous trip, do you?” Dad asks.
My father believes that he controls me with money and likes to perpetuate that narrative, but he truly doesn’t. I pay him rent and all my bills (and vacations). He just fails to acknowledge that.
He reminds me of another reason I want to leave Texas for the weekend- him.
“It sounds like an offer to me,” I sweetly and sarcastically say, looking up at him with a smile.
“Look, Sammy, I need to know your plans. I hope you don’t want to go anywhere. I have some deals I want your input on,” he declares, spitting into his dip cup. I cringe a little bit at the repulsive habit.
“You can handle your deals all on your own,” I advise him.
An impatient man, he starts getting noticeably agitated.
“Samantha Laurier, I expect you to stay here when I need you,” he demands.
After the interaction I just had with Asher, I do not fear my father at this moment. I approach him aggressively and knock the dip cup out of his hand.
“I don’t really care what you think, pa. Also, chewing tobacco is disgusting,” I scream at him.
Then, I gather the majority of makeup bottles on my vanity into makeup back with one large swoop of my forearms, causing makeup to fall onto the floor, and fling it into the suitcase, too.
My dad watches me quietly until he demonstrates a bit of emotion on his face.
“I know you miss New York. I also know I didn’t welcome you as well as I could have. Please stay, though. I need your help,” he pleads.
“With all due respect, sir, I am going to New York. I can help you when I get back,” I alert him.
Seemingly aware of the gravity of the situation, he uncharacteristically nods in acknowledgment and slowly walks away, leaving the spilled dip cup behind.
I quickly clean up the mess and shut the door. I then fall on my bed and count different items I can see, smell, and touch in my bedroom to prevent a panic attack. When my heartbeat slows back down to a normal range, I take a deep breath and close my suitcase.
