He laughs. “Pass. I get enough of that at home.” He orders stew and biscuits. “Quiet night,” he offers when he’s got his food.
I realize only then I haven’t taken a bite since he sat down so I eat some before answering. “Best kind of night. Hope to keep it that way.”
“You hear the Benson gang is in the area?”
“I did. Got a wire from Sheriff Dix over in Cochise County saying they’d departed the territory headed east. Skip and I are prepared should they make the mistake of coming here.”
“How many men you killed, Marshal?”
The answer is six, but I won’t say because I don’t believe the law should count notches. “Don’t keep track of such things,” I answer.
“Which means a good number.”
I like the way he gets under my skin, and also don’t. The familiar heat stays with me and keeps my blood rushing. Can he possibly know what he does to me?
Soon my food is gone, my coffee cup empty, and I should get back to patrolling the town, but I’m too caught up in Ray who’s breaking off pieces of biscuit to sop in his gravy. I can’t help but fix on this as, for a smitten man, it’s highly arousing. I should get up and go, except I’m hard below and don’t want to show it. Wish I had my coat. Damned hot weather. Finally Ray’s meal is done, and he sits back to sip his coffee. “Yes sir, a fine night,” he declares. “Think I’ll play some cards.” He stands, puts on his hat, and I then get up, but my hat doesn’t go on my head. I hold it to conceal my privates.
“You keep your cool,” I advise and I hurry to pay my check and leave. Even away from his company, I’m slow to calm. My hat remains in hand, shielding myself when probably nobody’s taking note. Ray then comes out, nodding as he passes. He’s all man now, grown up fellow going to drink and gamble. I think on him sitting in at cards and it’s as I so indulge that I realize he’s left me in bad shape. To remedy this, I go to the privy out back of the Grand Saloon where I free my cock and gain manly release while picturing Ray Seel in a compromising position. Once satisfied, I return to lawman duties.
It’s after midnight when shots ring out and I turn to see Ray rush out of the Buckhorn Saloon, jump on his white cow pony and ride from town. I go over to find a stranger dead on the saloon floor, gun still in hand. “What happened?”
“Ray called him out and they both drew,” comes the response.
“Who drew first?”
Replies fall into two camps, some saying it was Ray, others saying it was the stranger who they declare a sharp. I give up trying to sort things out. As I head to the livery to get my horse, I run into my deputy. “Ray Seel just shot a fellow dead at the Buckhorn,” I say. “I’m going after him.”
“You getting up a posse?”
“I can handle this on my own.”
Skip passes me another of those looks of his, but I don’t bite. “You see to things,” I tell him, not waiting for a reply. Soon I’m saddled up and packing rifle and bedroll as a lawman in pursuit has no idea how long he’ll be out or what may develop. Still, I find myself in no hurry to get moving. When I finally do it’s not full gallop like usual. An easy canter is all I can muster.
It tears me up that I’m after Ray Seel, tears me up to carry my rifle as using it would put more end to me than him. As I ride along I suffer a churning of the innards, wishing he hadn’t run because it makes him look guilty. I want him to come to his senses, stop and turn around, but know that’s more wishful thinking. He’s done about the worst a fellow can do and taken the only road he sees.
He’ll either stay on the run till his horse gives out or try to hole up somewhere. I think ahead to hospitable spots, which are few, it being hard country. I ride toward a spring I know, uncertain about catching my prey.
Ray isn’t there and it’s too dark to read tracks so I take a break and let my horse drink his fill while I stand in moonlight hating what I’m about. Never has my job been a trial. I’ve always felt born to the law, always upheld every aspect, yet I’m already thinking to maybe let this chase fall away. Stay out long enough to look good, then return to town saying I lost him, which I see will be more truth than I can bear. This gets me back on my horse and on my way because I can’t abide Ray being lost to me.
I stop once more, just as dawn comes up, and this time I find tracks that confirm Ray’s headed east. A thinking man would have gone west to Arizona where I have no authority, but Ray’s not thinking at present. He’s scared so he’s running. Once my horse and I are rested, both of us taking on water, both emptying of some as well, we’re back at it though I still don’t press too hard. I plan to keep on the trail, but not burn it up. Ray will wear down at some point and that’s how I’ll get him, when he’s beat in both body and spirit. As I ride along I consider how things will go down, different ways playing before me, none good. I can’t believe he’d shoot me, but then I’d never have figured him to shoot anybody. He might try to outwit me in some manner known only to young hotheads, but I have experience on my side and am seldom outwitted.
Around noon I stop at a little Mexican hamlet and, knowing enough Spanish to get by, I learn Ray’s had a meal then lit out. “White horse,” says a fellow. “Rio Grande,” he adds, pointing east, like anybody out here wouldn’t know where the big river lies. The good news is Ray didn’t change horses. A thinking man would have done that as a horse will usually fail to outrun his owner’s trouble. I leave the hamlet after a meal, pressing on until night falls.
I can smell the Rio Grande before I see it, fresh water mingling with flowery scents the land gives off under cover of night. I’m thinking to water my horse, then ride on to Hatch which is the first town on the river, get me a bed and some rest, a good meal, maybe a drink or two. I’ll ask around after Ray and pick up pursuit next day.
Having a plan perks me up and I’ve got my horse turned toward the river when I see a campfire up ahead. Most likely it’s a traveler who can’t afford a room or some cowpoke bedded down among strays he’s rounded up, but, not being sure, I approach with caution. When still some distance I leave my horse and continue on foot. Once close, I see the fire set in front of a rock formation and there beside it lies Ray Seel, sound asleep.
I take great care now, nearing the man I’ve come to arrest, but I put off my duty in favor of just looking. He appears much as he did back on that cot in my jail only now his saddle is his pillow. One hand rests at his side while the other lies on his chest, gripping his six-shooter. My fingers are on my holstered gun, but I make no move to draw. The lawman part of me says to get on with things and take him unawares, but the man behind the badge wants to throw off that star, throw off everything and draw the boy into my arms. I want to tell him all is not lost and assure him I’m on his side. I want to pet him, maybe kiss him. My dick wakes at such thoughts and I savor the heft. The dog in me won’t lie down.
How long I stand watching I don’t know, but finally I shake off wishful thinking in favor of doing my job. I draw my gun and enter his camp, then nudge his foot. “Don’t move,” I say when his eyes open. “I don’t want to shoot you. Toss your gun away, easy like.”
He makes no move to resist or comply and I get he’s thinking on alternatives. “Do it!” I demand. This stops any nonsense and he tosses the gun my way. I slip it into my belt, then take a seat on a big rock. “You can go back to sleep if you want. We’ll not head back till daylight.”
He looks around like there’s an answer hidden in the dark, and when he finds none he looks to me. “How’d you find me?” he asks.
“Your fire. Those of the criminal persuasion know to make a dark camp. Same as they’d know to change horses and keep riding. Same as they’d know to head west to Arizona Territory where I have no authority.”
A downcast look comes over him. “You’re no criminal, Ray,” I tell him, “but running makes you appear one.”
“I shot that fellow.”
“And he shot as well so there’s a chance for you in that.”
I know what
’s next before it comes. “Is he dead?” asks Ray.
“Yes.”
“That’s a hanging offense.”
“Maybe not. I spoke to witnesses who can’t say who fired first. Absent clear proof, it’ll likely be seen as you shooting in defense of your life.”
He sits up and runs a hand through his hair, capturing me again with something that would go unnoticed by anyone but me. I think on my fingers in that hair and maybe somewhere else. “There’s no guarantee,” he says, breaking the spell.
“Only justice,” I reply, “but it usually does well in my town.”
“Wish I’d not have sat in with him,” offers Ray.
I’ve no response to this so I turn things another direction.
“Why don’t you get some sleep. There’s nothing to be gained hashing it over now.”
He studies me. “You going to keep an eye on me all night?”
“That I am.”
“Won’t you need sleep?”
“A lawman learns to do without.”
He chuckles which lifts me because he’s showing something other than fear. “I need a piss,” he says.
“Go ahead, but don’t try anything.”
He rises, steps over to a creosote bush, opens his pants and sets to business. That he doesn’t turn his back is not lost on me, him standing in profile to issue his stream. I get a good look at his equipment and when he’s done and shaken off the last, he keeps himself in hand, playing around like he knows I’ll enjoy the show. Then he stops, tucks himself away and buttons up. Without a word he lies back down. When he keeps his eyes open, I start to wonder if maybe he does know he gets to me. That could prove dangerous.
“No need to sit up all night, Marshal,” he says. “You can stretch out by the fire and still keep your gun on me.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stay put.”
“Suit yourself.”
When the fire burns low, I add more branches, which is maybe a mistake as the brighter light seems to stir Ray. He blows out a sigh and slides a hand down to his privates where he commences to prod. “Doubt I can sleep in my present state,” he offers. “You know how it is, Marshal, fellow pent up in the manly way.”
Not waiting for comment, he undoes his pants. I’m thinking he’ll get a hand inside, but he surprises me by pushing everything down around his knees. I’m bushwhacked at the sight and when he starts handling himself, I clamp my jaw to hold back comments rising from the depths. Ray Seel definitely has an idea what he does to me and is looking to trade on it.
He’s hard in no time and I recall how that was, stiff more than not. He does everything possible to entice me, pulling and wagging his dick, and when I don’t give way he smiles, issues a great sigh, and puts his cards on the table. “You’re welcome to join in, Marshal,” he says. “Nobody out here but us, nobody to know you set aside your badge. And, as you can see, I’m up for something.”
The dog part of me is ready to strip off and give it to him so hard he’ll sit his saddle with difficulty, but the lawman part holds out for justice, though the hold is thinning. I ache to set my prick free, but remain seated on the rock, allowing I can at least enjoy the show.
“You know, Marshal, I’ve always taken note of you,” Ray says.
“Have you now.”
“You’re a notable man and I, for one, don’t miss such a thing. You think I’d invite just anybody to share my fire? Or suck my dick?” He stops working himself to point his rod at me and damned if I’m not sorely tempted. He then starts grinding his hips, working me like he’s not being held at gunpoint. “I’m in need, Marshal, and I’m thinking you are too.”
I haven’t yet gotten past him calling me a notable man. Everything else is gravy and what the hell, it’s just as he said, we’re out in the middle of nowhere, seen only by ourselves. As if he can read my thoughts, he says, “Fuck me, Marshal,” and that does it. I stand, holster my gun, then unbuckle my gun belt and set it where I can get to it if need be. I then open my pants and free my cock. “Turn over,” I command and he gets onto all fours. I crawl in behind and part his buttocks. “Fuck me,” he says again, so I do.
Getting into him is payoff for the torment I’ve endured these past months. When I commence taking my satisfaction, I can’t keep from going full out, which brings the rise way too soon. But no man can hold off nature so I pump it good, spewing into the man I covet, and everything else, laws and rules and courts and every goddamn thing there is, falls away. I carry on throughout, roaring or whooping or whatever you’d call the kind of noise that tells the world a man is having a come. Creatures who’ve crept close in the dark now scatter and I swear the fire crackles at our heat, but then it’s over and I slip out of him and fall to one side. Soon as I do, he rolls onto his back and says, “Now me.” I manage to raise up enough to see him still stiff, so I gather what I have left and get my mouth on him, finding need suddenly reborn. Soon I’m sucking him with a fury and getting a mouthful of spunk that I swallow right down.
I keep at him even when he’s soft because I want us tethered in some way. I suck his morsel and he moans and runs a hand through my hair. I find myself swooning and savoring that swoon because being out in the open in such a state is most pleasant. Finally I pull off, crawl onto him, and put my mouth to his. He’s most welcoming and, had we not just gained release, I’d swear we were starting up. Finally I ease back and look him in the eye. “Been wanting you for some time,” I confess.
“All you had to do was ask.” He slips his arms around me, kisses me.
“It’s not so easy for a lawman,” I explain. “I can’t be seen mooning after a man, so it’s been hell resisting you.”
“I knew it all along,” says Ray and when I scoff at this, he insists it’s true. “I could feel it on you every time you came near. No matter how lawful your words, your look told another story, but I had the same problem as you. Couldn’t really be seen playing up to the marshal.”
In the back of my mind this is suspect, but the back of a man’s mind is seldom where he does his thinking. Up front I am downright giddy at him feeling the same as me.
“Wish you could have gotten to me sooner,” he adds.
“Well, I have now.”
We strip off everything and spend considerable time exploring each other, hours disappearing as we poke, prod and lick. I’ve never felt such affection and after a good bit we’re worked up again. This time I take him on his back so I can see the passion on his face. I take things slow, his legs up on my shoulders, while he works himself to an impressive spew. When I finally pump my last into this man I now know I love, I feel sleep beckon and soon as I pull out, I fall over and give way. And in the morning I wake to find Ray dressed and sitting on that rock, pistol in hand.
My blanket is over me, which is a kindness on Ray’s part, having covered me up after he fled our nest. My prick is hard like usual and the irony of such a state is not lost on me. “Maybe you’d best go ahead and shoot,” I say. “End whatever in hell this is.”
“Don’t you know?” he asks.
“Well, I thought I did last night, but now I’m not so sure.”
“I won’t hang.”
“You stick around just to tell me that? A thinking man would be long gone, taking my horse, pistol and maybe even my clothes.”
“You keep saying what a thinking man would do. Does that mean I don’t think?”
“It means you don’t think criminal. Like it or not, your still being here says maybe more than you want.”
“Says what?”
“That your heart got loose last night and maybe it carries some weight; that you don’t want to let go of what we got started. Running has lost its appeal, which is a good thing, only you’re not seeing that because you’re scared. I understand that, Ray, truly I do, but I believe I can stand up for you and get justice to work in your favor. You have to trust me on that.” Here I draw back the blanket. “The morning’s cold. Why don’t you get in here and warm up. Then we can talk t
hings over.”
There’s dew on the ground and we’re both without a coat, having come out unplanned. I can see Ray is chilled. “You said I was notable,” I remind him. “How about you take advantage of that?”
The gun goes loose in his hand and a sadder sight I’ve never seen. His shoulders slump with the weight of deciding, and I lay in torment, fear taking hold of me, only it’s not fear of getting shot, it’s fear of losing him. He holds out a few more minutes, fingering the gun, then finally sets it aside. “Undress,” I say and he does. When he gets under the cover with me I kiss him. “I couldn’t bear you getting away,” I say, “and that’s the man talking, not the marshal.”
“I’m scared to death, Marshal. You really think you can keep me from hanging?”
“I’m notable for other things, Ray, and the law is one. I’ll fight for you and believe I’ll win. You’ll walk free and we can continue what we’ve gotten started, such as we can in town.”
“Maybe come back here from time to time,” he says.
My response is to draw him to me and seal the deal the best way a man can.
DIRTY TOWN
Shane Allison
I was so happy to make it to New York; I could have kissed her concrete. I had only dreamt of it since the sweet age of sixteen. Didn’t think I would ever escape the Bible belt of Tallahasseans, with their churches on every corner. “Watch who you drink with,” Ma said, as we hugged each other good-bye all teary eyed.
I was nervous but excited. I couldn’t wait to get rid of my folks, to venture out into the mouth of madness that was my new home, but there was no rush. My roommate Scott didn’t show up until three days later, so the hardwood floors, the stripped mattresses and the view from the top were all mine. I fantasized about my roommates and me fucking in close quarters, doing things to one another that was our secret alone. Scott had finally arrived. As it turned out, he wasn’t half bad looking. Quite cut for a nerd.
“When did you get here?” Scott asked.
“A few days ago. My folks drove me up. You?”
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