Cowboy Up

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Cowboy Up Page 11

by Shane Allison


  “Hell, let’s do it! At least it’ll be somethin’ to laugh about around the campfire!”

  Once the decision was made, they were quick to act. Stealthily while holding back laughter, they stripped down to their boots and cowboy hats, mounted back up, and burst through the trees into the stream on either side of the startled preacher.

  Even though he initially squealed and thrashed around in circles in the shallow water as the pair of naked cowboys galloped around him splashing and hooting, the preacher recovered quickly. “Hank? Danny? What the heck has got into you two boys? That isn’t proper, or decent!”

  There was certainly no decency about the huge hard-ons both cowboys displayed! Excited not only by being naked, they were also turned on by titillating the preacher at the same time. Their boners reared up from just behind their saddle horns like pink and purple swords, and they had no trouble showing them off as they circled the crouching preacher.

  When Hank leapt from the saddle to land in the water with a big splash right beside Trenton, Danny followed suit. Their well-trained horses simply trotted to the shore and began grazing beside the preacher’s tethered gelding.

  Hank and Danny each grabbed an arm and hauled Trenton up. To their surprise and glee, there was no denying the big boner that thrust upward from the blond preacher’s crotch! Encouraged by that unexpected sight, the two continued their shenanigans by squeezing their naked prey between them and groping each other around his trapped body. They even began kissing each other between bursts of laugher.

  But when Hank brazenly planted a big sloppy one right on the blond preacher’s gawking mouth, Trenton had to protest.

  “The good Lord forbids this kind of behavior!”

  “Where’s it say in that Bible of yours that cowboys can’t do any damn kissin’?”

  “Well, it doesn’t get real specific like that.”

  “So then if it ain’t ’pecific, than it ain’t wrong,” Hank argued. Then he smothered the preacher’s attempt at more protest with a wet kiss and a deeply probing tongue.

  Although Danny had his doubts that Trenton would let it go any further, he was too excited by it all to keep his hands off the handsome blond. His hand dropped to slide around Trenton’s thick boner and squeeze. And instead of trying to pull away, the young minister thrust into the calloused hand as if he couldn’t help himself. As Hank continued to slobber over Trenton’s gasping mouth, his hand joined Danny’s and they both began to pump. Sandwiched between the groping pair of randy young cowboys, the preacher squirmed this way and that, obviously undecided what to do about the untenable situation.

  Hank wasn’t fooled. There was no question the blond was excited by being naked between two good-looking young cowboys—while having his dick played with too! He decided it was time to get down to some real business. Stroking the preacher’s dick had only made him want more from the man. Being the bossy young rascal he was, he decided to get his pal to start out with the real nasty stuff. Placing a hand on Danny’s broad shoulder, he pushed downward. Danny offered no resistance, and kneeling between Trenton’s bare thighs, he lunged forward and gulped up the preacher’s lengthy pink tool, right to the balls.

  This was too much for the minister. He pulled away from Hank’s insistent kiss and blurted out a halfhearted protest. “Boys, I just can’t be participating in such indecency! My oath as a preacher forbids it!”

  Hank wasn’t about to be put off at this point. He glanced over toward their horses, and his quick mind hit on the perfect solution. “Well, why don’t we help you out with that little problem.”

  “How can you do that? Pray with me?”

  “Hell no. We’ll tie you up over your own saddle and fuck you good. That way it won’t be your fault ’cuz there’s nothing you can do about it. How’s that sound?”

  Preacher Trenton groaned aloud as Danny’s tongue twirled along the head of his prick in a wild tease, then quicker than either of the cowboys could have anticipated in their wildest dreams, he caved in.

  “I imagine that will solve my dilemma. Well, go ahead then.”

  The two cowboys knew how to work together. The moment the words came out of the preacher’s mouth, they leapt into action. They took Preacher Trenton’s saddle off his horse and draped it across a big log next to the stream. They lifted him in the air and plopped him down, still buck naked but with his boots on now. Next they tied his wrists to his boots in the stirrups. He was left with his bare butt high in the saddle.

  They made quite the trio. Otherwise nude, all three had on their boots. The preacher was bare-headed, but Hank and Danny still wore their cowboy hats—although Danny’s had fallen off the back of his head and dangled from the leather string attached to the brim. Hank was all lean muscle and tall. Since he loved to take off his shirt whenever he could, his torso was tanned nut brown. His Apache grandmother had bequeathed him straight shoulder-length chestnut hair, an eagle nose, and dreamy brown eyes. His pal Danny had broad cheeks and a dimpled chin. Amazing blue eyes gleamed out from an angelic complexion below dark hair that curled above his ears in waves.

  And between the young cowboys, draped over his own saddle, Preacher Trenton was a golden-haired, green-eyed, handsome young man of seemingly upright character, at least before this pair of scoundrels got hold of him! Muscular too, he had broad shoulders and big thighs. His narrow waist flared out into a spectacular pair of melon-round asscheeks. Those big cheeks reared up from the saddle he was tied to. Bare, ivory white, and smooth, his ass seemed to beg for attention. And if Hank and Danny had their way, it was about to receive a heck of a lot of attention!

  Once the two cowboys had tied their handsome victim securely, Hank stood in front of him and wasted no time in beginning their attack. He bent over and started kissing him again. The dusky cowboy found the sweet mouth entirely intoxicating! He slurped over it loudly, licking, thrusting, and sucking while Trenton put up no resistance at all. He willingly surrendered to the assault with gaping lips and snorts for air.

  Behind the bound preacher, Danny was provided an excellent view of that round white ass. The pink hole between the smooth cheeks was clearly visible. He had loved sucking the preacher’s dick and the sight of that butt and hole had him hankering for a taste of it too! He wasn’t sure what his pal Hank would think, and he was sure the preacher would consider ass-licking a real sin, so with a mischievous grin, he went for it. Gripping the rearing cheeks with both wrangler-calloused hands, he spread them even wider apart and dove for the prize.

  When Danny’s smooth face burrowed into his asscrack and he felt a tongue licking it, Preacher Trenton jerked wildly over the saddle and broke away from Hank’s lip lock.

  “What are you doing to me, Danny,” he yelped.

  Hank got a good look at his buddy with his face crammed between the preacher’s big white asscheeks and whooped with glee. “Hell! You’re licking the poor fellah’s ass! Good for you, Danny. See if you can get your tongue buried in that tight slot! I bet he’s gonna love it, and I bet there’s nothing in that Bible of his ’pecifically about a cowboy putting his tongue up a preacher’s dang butthole!”

  “I can guarantee licking a fella’s ass is a sin, even if the Bible doesn’t say so specifically,” Preacher Trenton argued, but then his face flamed crimson and he let out a deep grunt as Danny’s tongue started dancing over his puckered hole.

  The blond’s mouth gaped wide open, just in time for Hank to shut him up again, but not with his tongue this time. The blunt knob of his dark purple dick rammed between Preacher Trenton’s gawking lips and deep into his mouth.

  The preacher really began to squirm, but it was apparent he wasn’t trying to get away from anything. His hefty ass heaved backward into the cowboy’s face buried in it while his head bobbed up and down over the thick piece of cowboy cock buried in it. Even though he was tied securely, there was no doubt in any of their minds those ropes were entirely unnecessary. He loved what was happening to him!

  His asshole told the
same story. When Danny pulled out for a moment, the spit-glistening crack continued heaving as if begging for more, while the hole itself desperately twittered in and out, apparently eager for more too.

  Danny obliged, cramming his face back in and lapping up and down with his broad tongue to tease the entire length of the pale butt-crack. He relished every heave and wriggle of the preacher’s big butt and every twitch of his snug asshole.

  Hank equally relished the nasty view of his pal licking ass with such obvious pleasure—and of the preacher taking to it so well! But he had more in mind. The tall cowboy took his hat off and plopped it over Preacher Trenton’s thick blond locks. “Hell, we’re gonna make a cowboy out of you yet, Preacher! Today your lessons are all about ropin’ and ridin’, and maybe next time we’ll teach you about hog-tying. For now, open wide, at both ends! Another few minutes and my pal here is gonna teach you about the ridin’ part! Ridin’ on his big fat cowboy pecker, that is!” Although Danny could have licked that big, powerful butt for hours, his buddy’s plan sounded too exciting for him to put off. After a parting stab with his tongue up Trenton’s palpitating slot, he rose to abandon that exciting ass long enough to fetch a tin of lard he kept in his saddle bags for frying up a meal when out on the trail.

  Scooping out a handful of the pale grease, he coated up his curved pink pecker and stepped in to thrust it between the preacher’s huge asscheeks. The crack already glistened with his own spit as did the wrinkled hole. He aimed the tapered head of his dick at that enticing target and shoved.

  “Yee-haw! So damn tight and so damn warm! You are one hot fuck, Preacher Trenton,” he shouted.

  The look on his buddy’s face, big blue eyes wide and dimpled chin quivering, had Hank howling with laughter. He fucked the blond’s face with vigorous thrusts while Danny matched him stroke for stroke from behind.

  The blond’s asshole put up initial resistance, but caved in sooner than either cowboy could have imagined, much like he himself had earlier. It only took a minute or two before the snug pit was yawning wide for every ram and stroke Danny offered it. The dark-haired cowboy raised his arms and hollered like he was riding a wild bronco and Preacher Trenton heaved and bucked like he was that bronco. He couldn’t say much as his mouth was full of cowboy cock, but the pair of randy cowboys laughed and joked throughout the wild fuck.

  Being the good buddies they were, they took turns fucking Trenton’s mouth and ass. When they switched, Hank rubbed his long and lean pecker up and down the slick ass channel already flaming red from his buddy’s wild attack, then aimed the blunt crown at the battered, inflamed hole. Then he rammed balls deep.

  “Heck, Hank! I feel like I have a foot-long bull whip up my butt! Oh! Oh! What are you doing to me?”

  Danny gripped the sides of the handsome preacher’s face and shut him up with a thrust of his fat pink tool. As Hank dug deep with his curved fuck weapon from behind, his pal tested the preacher’s tonsils. They began thrusting deeper and harder, determined to outdo each other with the poor minister between them and taking it from both ends at once.

  His poor ass rose and fell as Hank slammed his bare hips against it. His lips drooled as he gurgled around the plump prick sliding in and out of his mouth. His green eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but throughout it all he put up no resistance, and in fact only had the mischievous cowboys admiring his stamina.

  Eventually, they reached under his belly and pulled back his pecker to see it stiff and dripping. More proof the roped preacher was enjoying it as much as they were!

  In fact, that dripping pink cock soon spewed a sticky load all over the saddle under it, which excited the pair of cowboys so much they could no longer hold back their own release. Leaning forward over their bound victim, they kissed deeply as they simultaneously unloaded in either end of the squirming blond.

  When they untied him, Preacher Trenton stood between them and rubbed his tender ass. Rather than reprimanding them for their sinful behavior as he had at the beginning, he now offered them a rueful and telling smile.

  It was Hank who stated the obvious. “Next time we won’t be needing those dang ropes, will we?”

  Preacher Trenton paused only a moment before he replied. “Well, maybe not. But I don’t mind if we do, just to make sure and all.”

  They all laughed as Hank pulled them into a naked embrace with his long arms wrapped around both, his old buddy and his new one. He was already plotting their next shenanigans. He for one didn’t mind a little more sinning, if it was going to be this fun!

  ROGAYO

  Landon Dixon

  The tall, lean man strode down the tunnel and into the tiny office located deep in the bowels of the Wyoming sports arena. He wore crotchless, cheekless cowhide chaps, a ten-gallon white Stetson, a pair of polished red cowboy boots, and nothing else. His hung cock swung along to his ambling gait, his big, shaven balls bouncing; taut, tanned, mounded buttcheeks clenching and unclenching.

  “Well, looky who’s here!” Clint Adams, boss man of the Wyoming rogayo, exclaimed, looking up from the paperwork piled atop the small desk in the cramped room.

  There were three other cowboys lounging around, getting their registrations in order. They were all displaying hanging cocks and dangling balls, their hard, round, thrust-back buttcheeks in various stages of partial Western dress. They all turned their handsome, cowboy-hatted heads and looked at the new man who’d just strolled into their midst.

  But he wasn’t new at all, not to the rogayo circuit. “Hiya, Clint,” Chad Crowder said, extending a large, strong hand to the seated promoter. “It’s been a while.” His clear brown eyes briefly surveyed the other competitors. He didn’t recognize any of them. He looked back at Clint.

  “A while? More like goin’ on eight years, Chad,” the big, bluff, flamboyant man with the sunburned face and neon-red suit said, sizing up Chad’s muscle-cleaved chest, tan nipples, and clean-cut cock with appraising, admiring eyes. “Looks like you kept in shape, though. What brings you back to the rogayo circuit? You already won it all.”

  Chad’s full lips pouted a grimace. “And lost it all, too.” He’d left his domestic partner of six years behind, their home broken and Chad dead broke. Living and loving and working in one place just hadn’t sat well with the free-range cowboy.

  Wade Brubaker laughed. Chad and Clint stared at the man.

  “This here is Chad Crowder, boy,” Clint growled at the offending young cowboy. “The best ball-busting, bear-riding, man-roping, stud-wrestling gay cowboy there’s ever been. Three-time champion.”

  Wade pushed off from the filing cabinet he’d been slouching against, and stood tall in his black leather boots, his cock bobbing up. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you,” he sneered at Chad. His bright-blue eyes traveled over Chad’s body, not with admiration, but with contempt. “A little past it, aren’t you, pops?”

  When Chad turned, his cock came a second behind with him—riding up fast and hard, obviously still willing to take on any challenge. “I guess we’ll just see about that,” he snarled back.

  The two men’s penises eyed each other, long and hard and heavy, their pecs flexing, buttcheeks locking up in back.

  “Boys, boys,” Clint intervened. “Save the ridin’ for the stampede ground. You, uh, know that Duff Blocker is here, too, don’t you, Chad?”

  Chad jerked his head back toward Clint, his sultry eyes gone wide. “Cowboy?”

  “Stockman.”

  Chad grunted.

  “I guess maybe he’s even more down on his luck than you are, Chad,” Clint observed. “Used to be one of the best toppers in the business—good as you, almost.” He cleared his throat like a horse coughing. “So, uh, what events you goin’ to enter, Chad?”

  “All of ’em,” the veteran cowboy replied.

  Clint and the other two men blew out their cheeks. Wade grinned at Chad, hitching his hips and cock up even higher.

  The four main rogayo events were modeled after the four main rodeo events. Bronc-busting
became ball-busting, the objective being to straddle a man’s shoulders and ride the bucker for eight seconds, if possible, no hand-holding of any kind, points awarded both on the technique of the rider and the bucker. Bear-riding was similar to bull-riding, except the bull was replaced with a hairy man-bear, the cowboy’s objective to ride atop the bear’s bucking back for eight seconds, again no hands holding on, again with the same points system. Calf-roping became man-roping, a cowboy trying to lasso a running man with a velvet rope, truss him up as fast as possible, points awarded for bondage technique also. And stud-wrestling was a variation on steer-wrestling, the animal replaced with a stockman again, the objective being to wrestle the stud down to the nonstick sand surface of the arena floor and pin him cock-to-cock, the quicker the better.

  There were the cowboys and the stockmen. All participants in the events were almost totally naked, all boasting prodigious saddle horns and skill with their hands. Prize money was awarded on both sides, though the cowboys roped the lion’s share of the haul.

  The arena stands were packed Saturday night, the (fully-clothed) crowd whooping and whistling and hollering, getting into the spirit of the thing. As the cowboys paraded out into the arena in their erotic nudity and rustic Western finery, they waved to the crowd. There were twenty-five contestants, a mixture of circuit regulars and local yokels. A special cheer went up for Chad Crowder when Clint belted his name out over the loudspeaker. Chad picked up his cock and waved it in acknowledgment, setting off another roar.

  “Enjoy it while you can, old-timer!” Wade yelled in Chad’s ear. “You’ll be flat on your back before you know it!”

  “You wish!” Chad answered.

  The first event up was ball-busting. Chad watched some of the yokels get bounced off the bucking, shrugging, plunging shoulders of the professional stockmen. Then it was his turn. He straddled the smooth, padded railings that corralled the snorting, standing stockman. Chad had drawn Jesus, a short, stocky, dark-skinned man with broad shoulders and a surly expression.

 

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