"A True Frontier Town"
Part 10
"Let's talk about that later, keep doing me you hungry fucker. Then, he smile and mumbled, "My hungry fucker, whom I love."
"Talk about corny, Austin was getting close but didn't want to cum, he wanted Jeb's hot little ass an attention getter and Austin was all in for getting Jeb's attention.
He lifted Jeb's face from his cock pulling him to his feet. They kissed like two homos in love, because they were in love. Austin pushed into him lifting his arm going after his armpit. He inhaled and licked his moist flesh. His tongue worked like a dog, and nothing was off limits, when it came to Jeb.
"You like that?"
"I like you, don't question, just cooperate," mumbled Austin, licking away becoming aroused more than he thought possible.
Austin leaned Jeb over a hay bale and went after his ass. His cheeky butt intoxicated his desire to a no return point. "This is great," thought Austin, as he licked and chewed the cheeks of Jeb's sweet child-like hinny.
He parted the checks rubbing the hairy hole in a circular movement. He would spit and rub – spit and rub.
After a couple of finger pokes, his tongue made contact with the prize, pooper. Jeb moaned when Austin's tongue fucked his exposed hole. It felt good, but Austin wanted a pecker poke. In a hot barn, sneaking around like bandits, Jeb was Austin's whore. They liked pointless games and somebody had to be a whore.
It was a point in history, where folks, not understanding gays, labeled such behavior as filth. Cowboys practiced what they considered homo savvy between men. Never the less, it was a brand of naughty entirely unique to them. Being genteel was set aside for a few precious moments of hankering, for a dude's cock and balls.
"I want you inside of me," whispered Jeb as if his words were a secret. Jeb moaned from the tongue licking pushing into Austin's face. They had fucked before under different conditions, so they knew how each reacted to using one another.
Sweat was doing its job thanks to the wicked barn heat. Their bodies slapped together with sweat acting as a lubricant. There was not a lot of talking coming from either of them. However, the sighing, mumbling, and quiet moans were all they needed. Austin was deep inside Jeb's hole. His bushy pubic crotch rested against the cheeks of his ass and his balls were the only thing showing. What a luscious site.
His body reacted similar to a firecracker bursting forth a load of surging sticky gook directly into Jeb's ass. The sweat ran from his stomach dripping on to his balls. He felt it drip down his thighs; with his cock, still plugging Jeb's twitching rear end, juicy and warm by now, as expected.
Austin rolled out of Jeb with his sweaty flesh picking up strands of hayseeds on his legs, as well as on his chest. The dang stuff itched, but he was too warm and beat, to do anything more. Jeb, however, was alert standing up over Austin's face yanking his plump meat ready to dump pecker paste on to the waiting lips of his boyfriend.
Austin confident he was getting Jeb's load, opened his mouth like a baby bird. Jeb felt his balls rise, and warm gobs of cum settled on Austin's face, covering his cheeks, nose, and mouth. Jeb kissed him, mashing his cum between his lips and Austin's tongue. They ate as if it was cake batter. Together they made "nasty," a common word. Dang, they were good.
"Lordy, it feels good being out in the air again," said Austin. He hadn't dressed completely after leaving the barn. He wore only pants, caring his shirt and boots in his hand.
Austin ran to the watering hole behind the barn, dropped his pants, and jumped into the water. He had to wash lust from his body. He just had to; being clean was always the way with him. Wherever there was a pond, watering hole, or a river, Austin would dip in and bathe.
Jeb didn't hang around. He went back to the corral to be with Hurricane. He had worked with that horse every day, and they were actually friends. If you can imagine such a thing, the animal sensed a kinship with Jeb, and he communicated with Jeb's commands.
He would give Hurricane a cube of sugar, carrots, and even some apples from Marion Clarkson's underground canning shed. His days of "chewing gravel" (getting thrown from a horse) were over with Hurricane. Every day a different wrangler would ride the black stallion keeping him gentle. However, nobody could handle him as well as Jeb. Hurricane was now Sam Clarkson's personal horse, and he couldn't be happier with Jeb, his now, favorite ranch hand.
Austin was back at the corral in no time. His hair was still wet but he wore his hat just the same. He had a glow about him as he started helping out pitching hay for the horses. There were a couple more mustangs needing gentle-in, and he was there to work.
"Yuh, want to ride the brown or the white horse," said Jeb. "That is providing your pecker isn't too tired," added Jeb with a smirk.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm not hankering to create chaos, but my butt did get a workout in the barn – just sayin, grunted Jeb."
"Much obliged, what's your point? Do you think I can't do it?"
"I don't think when it comes to cowboys, I just observe. Which horse do you want to ride? Oh, wait, I forgot that Luke wants to tackle the white stallion. He has already named him Stormy."
Austin did not comment, as Jeb led forward a brown paint mustang. He held the reins while Austin climbed on to the saddle, and the ruckus began. The horse bucked and worked vigorously trying to throw him, but he stayed riding, until the horse finally gave up. The paint became another gem of horseflesh added to the Clarkson' inventory of fine riding stock.
"Say, that Austin is darn good," commented Luke watching him ride. "You know he still owes me from back in Dodge, I should collect."
"Go ahead, Austin keeps his word, and oh yeah, he's good."
The rest of the wranglers returned from the range and gathered at the corral to see Luke, take his turn riding the write stallion, "Stormy."
"This ought to be good, let's see how he handles Stormy," Austin said to Jeb.
"I hope Luke doesn't overplay it. Stormy is not as wild as Hurricane," Jeb replied. "That horse (Hurricane) is my boy." He added.
"Dang, I thought I was your boy," giggled Austin. "Hah, try fucking a horse." Then he laughed putting his arm around Jeb's shoulder. The wranglers were watching, but what the heck, they were dudes.
That evening, lying on their bunks, shooting the breeze talking about women, comments were coming from everyone. The cowboys believed they were studs. Some were, and some needed help in order to look sexy. A little soap and water would have been a big help in some cases.
"I've lived a lot, but it doesn't show that much yet," Austin told the boys in the bunkhouse. He was stressing the notion he had fucking experience. Actually that was true, but not with women. Little did they know, and little did Austin care, but he had more sex than these jokers ever hoped to have. He never needed a saloon whore in order to feel good. As far as, "getting off," good grief, that was only a rub away.
At suppertime, Austin sat between drover's Dave and Chris. Dave was an interesting character, on the quiet side. Dave was average looking with a decent body. However, he was no Jeb, for sure.
Chris was also quiet and the two of them went every place together. Sometimes Chris would finish Dave's sentence for him. How strange is that?
Dave hung around Chris like a flea on a dog. They, liked slipping off to Dodge City in order to anti-up with a bartender, suggesting a whore they can poke at a reasonable price. They told the same story, every time they came back from Dodge. Jeb and Austin didn't believe it.
According to the way Chris talked about women, he fucked like a bull. However, most cowpokes are notorious liars, so for Austin to believe that story, he wanted to see him in action. Truthfully, that would not happen.
Austin thought they actually went into the hills to a deserted cave and fucked each other. However, it seemed too far-fetched for any merit. Besides, he didn't care what they did.
Sam fancied having a special saddle for Hurricane. He had an impressive horse and wanted a one of a kind saddle. This meant sending somebody to a famous saddle maker, located in Sheridan, Wyoming. Some cowboys liked the idea, of going, but most hoped they would not have to do it. Someone from the bunkhouse was in for a train trip to Wyoming.
It was an accurate observation, but Sam was determined to have a Wyoming saddle. Not, just any old saddle, but an expensive, one of a kind beauty, just for Hurricane. In the meantime, Sam was riding Hurricane (without a fancy saddle) just an ordinary one, yet doing well.
Some cowpoke was in for a train trip to Wyoming. He couldn't go himself, and somebody had to do it for him.
"Well fellers, I know I won't be going anyplace," said Luke. I'm the foreman and gotta stay here and keep a lid on you cowpokes."
"Why not stay here and work with us instead of riding from the pastures to the low lands, handing out hogwash orders."
"Who said that?" barked Luke.
"He did – I think, he did, no it came from over there," somebody mumbled.
There's nothing like a straight out answer," replied Luke, admiring cowpokes, who said whatever they wanted. It was nothing serious, and he no longer work that hard anyway. However, he liked breaking horses, and naked cowboys, in that order.
"You owe me," whispered Luke to Austin. "Remember our deal?"
"Of course – naked, just say when. Is naked all that you expect, or is there more on your mind?"
"Yep, there is. I want to pecker poke your hole. Are you up for that?"
"Yup, however that is extra, so I want a favor in return, said Austin.
"It has to be easy to do." Insisted Luke.
"It is very easy."
"Then we're good to go," Luke answered. Austin was openly luscious and sexy, Luke's pecker twitched with sticky cum drops. Gaud, Austin was hot.
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