Cowboys

by Tom Graham

  “My cock. Fuck, Terr. I need. Fucking touch me.”

  He hooted, managing to get his hand down to pull good and hard. “Greedy bastard.”

  “So you say. More.”

  Terrell’s teeth found heaven in the curve of Darrell’s shoulder, biting deep, leaving a mark where no one would see it. No one but Darrell and him would know it was burning there under the vest and shirt.

  Darrell went wild as wet heat sprayed over Terrell’s fingers. He bucked hard and squeezed Terrell tight enough that the top of his head near popped off, his cock throbbing and swelling as he lost it.

  They sat there for a long minute, Darrell on his lap, his head on Darrell’s shoulder, both of them panting like dogs. He felt his heart pound against his ribs, fighting to make more room in there.

  Darrell shifted, before his naked back got cold, but not before his thighs started complaining about their position. Terrell handed him a couple of tissues to help with the cleanup work, and he wrapped the condom up real good in them before trashing it. Mary Lou Hinson cleaned these rooms, and it wouldn’t do to…

  They might have napped a little, or they might have just sat there and breathed. Didn’t matter. They got dressed without saying much of nothing, Darrell tossing on jeans and undershirt, fastening up that new buckle. Terrell ghosted his fingers over the bite mark on Darrell’s shoulders before the button-up went on top of it.

  “You see my new truck, Terr? She’s a beaut.”

  Terrell pulled on his boots, nodded. “I did. You still got that piece-of-shit trailer, though. Some things don’t change.”

  “You know it,” Darrell said, and gave him a look, long and steady. “Shift’s changed in the restaurant. You want one more cup of coffee ’fore I go?”

  He checked his watch, nodded. “Sure, son. I got time for a cup before I get to work. Maybe even a sausage biscuit.”

  “Well, hell. Lookit you, taking chances. Next thing I know you’ll be ordering eggs in the morning.”

  “You never know, asshole. You just never know.”

  They filed out, letting the door lock behind them as they headed downstairs toward the smell of coffee and the sunshine pouring in.

  GOLD RUSH

  Hank Edwards

  Paul Rondo looked up from the frame he had been using to sift through the fine silt of the streambed, and eyed the large bear of a man kneeling across the water. He had met Carl Phillips three days before when a tired old man and his two tired old mules had led him to this campsite. During the past few years, Paul had acquired a tall pile of debts, a very tall pile. To pay it off—and flee the creditors who were pursuing him—he had sold himself as an indentured servant to a man who was prospecting a parcel of territory for gold. The rush had hit and thousands were flocking west to strike it rich, or, like Paul himself, to escape their lives in the east.

  Carl Phillips bore no resemblance to what Paul had pictured during his weeks’ long journey across the barren landscape. He had envisioned an overweight, toothless slob, someone he would dislike on sight and come to hate over the next three years. With this image in mind, Paul had been happily stunned to find that Carl was around six four and big shouldered. He weighed at least 220 pounds, most of that muscle. His cotton trousers rode his lower body like an affectionate whore eager for her pay. Every time he moved along the opposing bank from Paul, the man’s pants highlighted every curve and bulge of his bulky frame. He wore his flannel shirt unbuttoned to the waist, exposing a broad chest browned from days in the sun. A thick mat of dark red hair, damp with sweat, was visible in the open V of his shirt. His brilliant blue eyes shone from his face, in great contrast to his full, reddish gold beard, and the dark red hair that fell around his shoulders. His large hair-flecked hands moved skillfully along the stream, scooping dirt and silt and shifting it through the boxed screen in his search for riches.

  Paul fought back his sudden, painful erection and went back to work. In the last three days, both Carl and Paul had found two gold nuggets apiece, the same number Carl had found in the six months he had worked his forty acres alone.

  “Find anything today?” Carl’s deep voice floated smoothly over the stream.

  “Nope,” Paul replied, glancing up and struggling not to stare. “Nothing yet. But I’ve got a good feeling.”

  “Yeah?” Carl squinted over the water at him. “Why’s that?”

  Paul shrugged. “Just do. Don’t you get those feelings? Like something’s going to happen?”

  Carl nodded and eyed him thoughtfully. “Yep, guess I do.”

  Paul looked down and fought the urge to lift his head and stare at his “partner” (the word they had agreed upon for their arrangement). Losing his inner battle, he raised his brown eyes, looking carefully through the dark hair that had tumbled into his face, and caught Carl staring at him. Paul thought Carl might have trimmed his beard and mustache the night after he had arrived at the camp. And it seemed the man had made a point of rinsing his mouth and cleaning his teeth after breakfast, too. Was Carl trying to impress him, or was Paul imagining things?

  He quickly looked back at his work, thinking of the last two nights and how much of a struggle it had been to sleep beside Carl in the same small tent, the man’s sweaty, masculine scent riding Paul’s craving like a wild mustang. He had sported a constant raging hard-on both nights and hadn’t had a chance yet to steal off by himself and ease his tension.

  Carl looked away when Paul raised his eyes and caught him staring. Wouldn’t do to have Paul know what kind of thoughts he had been having ever since the younger man had ridden up behind that fool Chester three days ago. Before Paul had arrived Carl hadn’t bothered much with his hygiene. But now that he had gotten a look at the man who would be his “partner” for the next three years, he thought he might start to work at his appearance a little more. He knew he was still a good-looking man. The women always flocked around him when he went into town, and he kept himself clean as possible considering his living conditions. But now that Paul had shown up and proved to be five years younger than Carl and just about the best-looking man he had seen for a good many years, he was back to working at his looks.

  He had found there weren’t many men who were interested in having sex with him, but along his journeys he had come across a few, and they had been good times. But none of those men held a candle to Paul. And here he had just come riding over the hill like some kind of gift, his long brown hair bouncing across his shoulders as he rode up on his golden palomino. With the keen eye of a predator, Carl had watched the younger man dismount: his strong, wiry legs as he swung out of the saddle; the long, thin fingers and sturdy grip as he shook Carl’s hand; the deep, sensual brown eyes shaded by long, dark lashes. Not to mention the bulge of Paul’s crotch and the way his pants hugged his high, round butt. It pushed Carl almost over the edge with desire. Yep, Carl thought as he stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, the money he had paid for Paul Rondo had been well spent.

  “I’m feelin’ a might ripe over here,” Carl said casually, turning his back to Paul as he shaded his eyes and looked down along the stream to where it fell a short distance away into a clear, cold pool. “I think I might go have myself a bath.” He turned his head and looked over his shoulder, cocking a sun-bleached eyebrow. “You interested?”

  Paul nearly choked, but he stood up and, not trusting his voice, nodded.

  “All right then,” Carl said with a grin. “Let’s go. I’ll get the towels and soap.” He walked back to their tent, feeling Paul’s eyes on his ass as he moved. He had worn his tightest pants to show off his physique and to entice Paul into expressing an attraction. But Paul had control; he had to give him that much.

  Side by side they walked down to the pool, and Carl dropped the soap and towels on a flat dry rock. Turning to face Paul, he smiled then bent down and unlaced his boots. Paul followed suit, and soon they were standing nude before each other. The blood-gorged members that jutted from their groins more than revealed their mutual attract
ion.

  Paul let his eyes travel over Carl’s body, taking in the sight of his muscular hairy chest and the thick, uncut cock that was still filling with blood. The man’s dick was massive, thicker around than Paul’s grip, and longer than a railroad spike. Paul’s mouth watered as he watched it grow longer and harder before his eyes, rising from the patch of dark red hair that surrounded Carl’s groin.

  “Like what you see?” Carl asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah, I do.” Paul peered into Carl’s eyes and saw the promise of hot, raw sex in them.

  “I like what I see, too.” Carl’s eyes traveled down Paul’s body, drinking in every detail. A fine layer of dark hair covered his chest and swirled around his quarter-sized dark-brown nipples. His flat stomach curved down to a patch of brown hair from which his cock had sprung like a jack-in-the-box. Paul’s dick was thinner, about three inches in diameter—but long, surely nine inches in length. He was uncut as well, the pink head peeking out from its hood. Paul’s massive balls hung low between his thighs. More than anything, Carl wanted to take each succulent nut into his mouth and suck on it while Paul squirmed and groaned above him.

  “What do you say?” Carl asked. “Shall we get in?”

  “Okay.” Paul tore his gaze from Carl’s body and with a deep breath jumped into the pool. The cold hit him like a locomotive, pulling the wind from his lungs and immediately deflating his throbbing hard-on. He surfaced and gasped for air, teeth chattering.

  Carl laughed as he crouched on the rocks, arms folded over his knees. His cock jutted from his thighs, almost skimming the surface of the water. “Warm enough for you?”

  Paul smirked as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “I forgot how cold it was. I was a little distracted.”

  “I bet.” Carl slid carefully into the water, gasping a little at the temperature. He glided over to Paul then leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.

  Paul smiled up at the man towering before him then reached up and pulled Carl’s head down to kiss him again. Carl’s beard and mustache prickled along Paul’s smooth-shaven face, and his cock hardened again despite the cold water. Their tongues collided and wrestled in each other’s mouths, grazing their teeth and eliciting groans from both of them.

  Breaking the embrace, Carl looked into Paul’s eyes. “Let’s clean up then get down to business,” he told him. He grabbed the soap and boosted Paul onto the rocks surrounding the pool, then lathered him up, his hands caressing each limb and contour, massaging and squeezing. Paul crouched with his back to Carl and allowed the man to wash his ass, groaning as Carl slipped a thick, blunt finger in and out of his pink, puckered hole. After sliding into the water to rinse off, he washed Carl’s body, his slender fingers finding their way inside Carl’s ass as well.

  When they had finished bathing, they sat on the rocks and kissed for a long time, their tongues rubbing themselves raw with lust. Their hands squeezed and pinched and grappled each other’s bodies until Carl finally leaned down and gulped Paul’s hard, throbbing cock deep into his throat. Paul gasped and lay on the rocks, closing his eyes as Carl’s mouth pistoned up and down his shaft.

  Raising his heavy, hairy body, Carl moved his hips up and over Paul’s head, slapping his thick cock onto Paul’s face. Paul immediately opened his mouth wide and took Carl’s dick down his throat. He sucked hungrily on the man’s prick, earning a deep, satisfied grunt from Carl.

  Paul pulled back the foreskin from the tip of Carl’s pole and sucked greedily on the soft, pink, bulbous head. He tasted Carl’s precum and drank it down eagerly. Letting the foreskin slip back over the tip, he worked his tongue beneath the sheath of skin and ran it around the head.

  Carl skinned the hood back from Paul’s cock as well, then touched just the tip of his tongue to the sensitive head and waggled it over the piss-slit, sampling the precum that continued to bubble from Paul’s rod like a natural spring. He clamped his lips over the head and sucked fiercely on the tip, leaving it bright red.

  “Oh, God!” Paul exclaimed. “That feels so damn good! Oh, yeah, suck it.”

  Carl eased Paul’s legs up and moved his attention to the tight anus he had fingered earlier. He lapped at Paul’s twitching hole, earning a few gasps and even more groans. Carl shifted the position of his hips, moving over Paul’s chest so that his ass sat right on the younger man’s face.

  Paul locked his sinewy legs around Carl’s shoulders as the man suckled and tongued his asshole, groaning at each prod of Carl’s tongue. Pulling his arms up to spread the firm globes of Carl’s cheeks wide, Paul exposed the tender hole. He licked and sucked for all he was worth, his saliva matting down the red hair that surrounded the tight, pink entrance to paradise.

  In one fluid movement, Carl slipped back to his original position, raised his hips, then slammed his cock deep into Paul’s throat, feeling the man choke around the girth of him. He pumped slowly into Paul’s mouth, increasing his speed until he steadily humped his face. Feeling the cum build up in his balls, he bucked faster. As he fucked Paul’s mouth, he wrapped his fist around the base of Paul’s cock and bounced his mouth up and down along his shaft at the same rate. Paul pumped his own hips up off the rock to meet Carl’s mouth, and soon they were jacking into each other’s mouths in rhythm.

  “I’m coming,” Paul gurgled around Carl’s cock, his hands tangling themselves in Carl’s long, red hair. His cock erupted in Carl’s throat, spewing load after load of hot, thick cum onto Carl’s gut and over his beard and mustache.

  Carl grunted deeply and, his lips still locked around Paul’s spent cock, shot his own hot wad into Paul’s mouth. Paul sucked down as much of the spunk as he could, but there was so much it spilled out over his chin and down his cheeks. He suckled greedily on Carl’s slowly softening cock, coaxing the last precious drops of cum from the soft, red tip.

  Carl rolled off Paul, and they lay breathless for a few minutes, their bodies warming in the sun.

  “You’re amazing,” Paul finally said.

  Carl laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He stood up, extending his hand and pulling Paul to his feet. They kissed for a few minutes, each tasting his own cum on the other’s tongue, then Carl led Paul to the campsite and spread out some blankets on the grass under a small tree. They lay side by side and explored each other’s bodies as they kissed a while longer. Sliding down, Carl lifted Paul’s legs and ran his tongue along the man’s ass crack.

  “Oh, damn,” Paul groaned, his hands spreading his cheeks wide to allow Carl better access to his sensitive hole. He had only allowed one other man to have him this way, and he was more than ready to let Carl be the second.

  “Goddamn,” Carl said as his tongue slithered in and out of Paul’s tight asshole. “You have got the tightest hole I’ve ever come across. You ever taken it up there?”

  “Once.”

  “Okay then, I’ll go slow.” Carl spat into Paul’s hole then leaned over and scooped up a glob of lard Chester had brought with the load of supplies. After greasing up Paul’s hole, slipping first two then three fingers deep inside the man, he slicked up his long, thick tool.

  Carl sat up and positioned himself at the threshold of Paul’s ass then looked up at him. “You ready for it?”

  “Yeah, do it,” Paul said and took in a quick breath as Carl eased himself slowly, carefully inside.

  “Everything okay?” Carl asked gently, his cock halfway inside Paul.

  “Oh, God,” Paul groaned. “It’s great.” He reached up and pulled Carl down to kiss him hard and deep as Carl slipped in and out of the young man’s firm ass, going deeper with each stroke. After several thrusts, Carl plunged completely into him then pulled nearly all the way out before diving right back in.

  Paul threw his head back and closed his eyes, his mouth gaping wide open with each thrust of Carl’s mammoth cock. He reached down and pulled on his own hard prick, working up another giant load.

  Carl looked down and watched Paul’s slender fingers work his cock in rhy
thm with Carl’s thrusting. Close to the point of no return, Carl drove deeper into Paul, the wiry hair surrounding his cock brushing Paul’s big soft balls as they bounced in time to his thrusts.

  With a guttural growl, Carl felt his control skitter away and closed his eyes as his body took over and emptied his load deep inside Paul’s tight pink hole. He breathed deeply and leaned back, his cock still buried inside Paul, his hips slowly moving in an unconscious rhythm.

  Paul suddenly gasped, and Carl saw his balls pull up close to his body. Leaning forward, still buried inside Paul, Carl caught the first shot of Paul’s load in his mouth. The second landed on his cheek and nose, and the rest flew down his throat as he finally got his lips around the cockhead and sucked Paul the rest of the way off.

  Carl’s cock slipped free of Paul’s ass. He slurped up the last of Paul’s spunk then reached down to squeeze the last of his own from his softening prick.

  After a time, they headed back to the pool and washed up again. Exhausted, they crawled into the small tent they shared and fell asleep in the shade of a tree as the stream babbled past, whispering of hidden treasures yet to be discovered.

  DRIFT-FENCE DESPERADO

  Julia Talbot

  Winter could be cruel in the Texas panhandle. Danny Elam knew that for sure. They’d had a winter just a few years ago, back in 1884, when about three hundred head of the boss’s cattle keeled over and died because they got logjammed up on the high end of the drift fence and couldn’t figure out how to move on.

  Them bovines were right dumb. Almost as stupid as a man who volunteered for winter camp duty, riding up and down that fence all day long. Rain and ice alternated with weirdly warm days where the sun made a man sleepy. The off and on of it was enough to give a man chilblains on some days and fevers on another.