BEHIND THE BAR
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
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"Aw, shit!" said Jacob as he saw who just entered the bar. It was Montana Charley White, and he had blood in his eye. He was a cowhand on the Bar T Ranch, and there were three other hands behind him, and the bar currently held six Circle J hands. Given there was a water war on between those two ranches, and since Jacob was a hand on the Lazy M, he felt that discretion was the only part of valor here.
He looked for a place to hide from the fight and possible gunfire that was about to ensue, and the best bet was behind the bar.
And so that was where he went. He sent two beer glasses sprawling as he did it, both reasonably full of beer and one of which had been his, but hell, that wasn't worth getting shot for, or even getting a bottle broken over his head.
He got behind the bar and settled down. Absent the slight possibility that somehow brought the fight behind here, he was safe as he was going to get.
Behind, the crashes and tinkles were already underway.
Another body landed beside him. Not thrown, but a fellow escapee. The guy looked at him quickly and he looked at him. "Who are you?" Jacob asked.
It was simple survival in the West to know your neighbors. A stranger was danger, simple as that, and he didn't know this guy.
"Tyler Coombes." the guy said and extended his hand. He had jet black hair and a face that spoke of possible half-Latino ancestry. No big deal in this part of the West, if you wanted a wife here, you had a better'n 50-50 chance that a dark-skinned wife was your only real option. And the families were more than happy to give their daughters to a white man, it was a huge step up the social ladder for their womenfolk to marry even a poor white man.
And this guy was big enough to not worry about his mother's shorter stature, he was nearly up to Jacob's own five foot nine.
So Jacob gave his own name and they both flinched as a bottle smashed the mirror a short ways down the bar. No glass got to them, though, which was a relief.
"They go at it like this a lot?" Tyler asked him.
"Only every chance they get." Jacob said. "It can makes things a bit lively on Saturday nights around here." Especially in mid-winter, when the work for the hands on a ranch were pretty much half miserable (working outdoors) and half boredom (indoors with nothing to do for days on end).
Tyler grinned, which made Jacob like him even more. "I like a good time as much as the next guy. But isn't there a sheriff in this town?"
"Yep." Jacob said. "And normally he'd break this sort of thing up in a few minutes. Trouble is, he's downstate with the Territorial Governor for some kind of meeting or other about getting New Mexico made into a state. So we just have to sort of wait this thing out."
The racket was at full fury now.
"I think it's going to take a while."
"Just until they beat each other's brains out." Jacob affirmed. "Given they don't have much brains, though, it's kind of hard for them to hit em, so they're going to take a while."
Tyler grinned and his smile was a white beacon on his face. "So we here for a while?" and the Spanish in his background came through in that sentence. He hadn't had as much of one before, it was like he was relaxing around Jacob.
"Something like that." Jacob agreed, grinned back. "Unless you want to try to make it out through all that. Me, I'm waiting right here."
"I think I wait here with you." Tyler said and his hand landed on Jacob's leg.
It didn't surprise Jacob as much as it would have back in Missouri where women were plentiful. He'd been in New Mexico Territory now for some years, now, though, and his attitudes had shifted since he'd arrived here at the tender age of fifteen. When women are scarce, there's only one real option for a man, if he doesn't care to try to prong one of his cows or horses instead. A man could always reach for another man.
This situation, though, didn't seem to call for any nudity on their parts. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea." was what Jacob answered instead of a full rebuff. "We could wait until this is over and get a hotel room." That to keep that smile on him.
"Hotel room later, sure." Tyler agreed. But his hand didn't stop. It ended up at Jacob's crotch right on time like the best-run railroad in the West. Pulled to a stop there and Jacob's cock supplied the whistle and hissing of steam out of the brakes.
"Here?" was all he said and he gasped that out.
"Sure, why not?" Tyler said cunningly. "Not like we got anything else to do, no?"
"No." Jacob sighed and lifted his buttocks to free up the buttons on his fly. Tyler's hands moved with the ease of long practice. But hell, he'd grown up with these jeans, same as Jacob had, the angle wasn't so much of a much when dealing with button-flys.
So soon enough, Tyler had hold of the inner fly of Jacob's longjohns, and a few more buttons to remove, this time only loose cotton holding them shut and that was worn and frayed from a few too many winters of non-stop use, and then he was fishing out Jacob's manhood to stand tall and proud in the yellow light of the kerosene lanterns. The one over the bar, that is, the rest were probably knocked out of commission by now. But the fight was still going on, if somewhat unabated. More likely they had finished breaking up all the furniture and been reduced to fisticuffs and wrestling holds.
Of course, Jacob had his own wrestling hold going on. He was glad to have that warm brown hand on his prick, but he wanted something to hold for himself! He got Tyler's pants open easily enough and there weren't any longjohns in there to stifle things (damn, Tyler must have been cold wearing just jeans in this weather!), and he had that warm dun-colored dong to play with.
But they ended up in the age-old problem of two guys sitting side by side when it comes to mutual masturbation, their arms got in each other way.
Jacob solved that by reaching around Tyler's back and grabbing him from the other side. He still couldn't jerk it worth a damn, but he still had hold of that nice, firm fucktool and he could fondle it while Tyler played his symphony with skillful fingers on Jacob's love-flute!
"Ah, uh, fuck!" Jacob sighed. "Feels good, yeah!"
A crash told the two that a chair which had survived up until now had just been turned to kindling over some hapless cowhand. Whether it was a Bar T or a Circle J back, Jacob didn't know and the water war was really only part of a long series of wrongs these two neighboring ranches had done to each other over the years. Every winter, the floods would change the curve of the stream and the water fight would renew itself. Hard at this point to say either side had any right on their side any longer.
At least there hadn't been any gunfire so far. Just healthy men working out their winter frustrations. Jacob had his own frustrations, and he had his own way of getting them worked out for him, and Tyler was doing a pretty good job of it!
More than a pretty good job. "Damn, man, you're good at jerking my tool!" Jacob groaned.
"Your fingers feel pretty good too, compadre." Tyler's Latino heritage was showing more with his rising passion. That head of black hair was nestled on Jacob's shoulder, and he rested his own tawny locks against it, the two joined in their joy as their hands plied their trade.
But Tyler had the better hold by far, Jacob was squirming much more than the gentle working of his fingers could do for Tyler, he was grunting and panting pretty hard.
The fight was winding down, now it was a couple of isolated noises. Most of the patrons had either fled the scene or were now unconscious.
"Sounds like we can move this to that hotel room now." Jacob breathed huskily.
"To hell with that." Tyler judged. "I got this thing warmed up enough now to do this." And Tyler leaned over and gulped Jacob's prong down tot he base!
"Oh, God!" Jacob moaned as that warm moisture engulfed him. "Oh, God, oh, oh, oh, OH, GOD!" He gasped and his climax was upon him. His mauled prod was avenging itself upon its assailant by spraying thick streams of hot jizz down that generous throat!
Tyler gulped at the hot flood greedily, eager grunts as he swallowed and went back for more. Jacob hunched at those lips as he kept ejaculating and when he was finally done, Tyler's lips sucked at his dong like a straw, draining him dry.
When Jacob was done, his chest heaving, Tyler lifted up, wiping at his lips, and said, "You want that hotel room now?"
Jacob feasted his eyes on that warm, dark-brown dick and said, "Fuck the hotel." and he dove for that pud. Tyler's only reaction was a gentle warm laugh and a scoot down to let Jacob get a good hold.
Warm hot man-flesh filled Jacob's mouth, steaming precome touched his tongue, the warm musky smell of the Latino crotch filled his nostrils, his ears were filled with the chuckles and then the groans of Tyler above him, every sense but his eyes, which were closed, were overloading on this hot stud whose prong he had just wolfed down. He bobbed his head fast as he could, for the fight was now done and any moment now, the bartender (who had sensibly fled outdoors at the start) would be back to pick up the pieces.
So he was ramming that hot cock down his throat fast as he could, he wanted this stud to get off for him...then off to the hotel for a bit of relaxation and some slow, sweet lovemaking that would make this more than a behind-the-bar quickie.
"Ah, ah, here it comes, here it comes!" warned Tyler. Jacob forced his now-tired neck muscles to speed up as much as they could, and there was the sound of rising male desire, the smell of pores opening up to release their salty perfume, the taste of precome sizzling on his tongue and the heat of that hard prick was slipping up and down like an old friend in his mouth and throat.
And Tyler let out a keening sound much like a coyote howling in the night, and that hot prod flushed itself into Jacob's mouth, he was determined to gulp it all down like Tyler had done for him, he had tasted male jism before, but this was hotter, thicker, saltier than any he'd had in some time, he found it going down his throat in big lumps instead of a creamy stream, he gulped and gulped again and still some driblets escaped down the cock, he finished Tyler off as best he could, and then his tongue got busy to lap the rivulets down that luscious shaft and then he returned to the tip to suck the tube empty and won a final pearl of spunk for his effort.
"Ah, man, ah, man!" Tyler moaned.
"Hey, who is that?" came the sound. The bartender. "Who's back there behind my bar?"
"Just me, Willie." Jacob called out. "Jacob Martin, off the Lazy M. Is it safe to come out now?"
That was said in a blase tone, when in fact the bar hid two men hastily fumbling at their flies. The tromping of broken wood and glass warned them of the bartender's approach and when Willie (a white-haired old ex-prospector now reduced to dispensing someone else's liquor and beer) made it back there, he only saw two cowhands hiding out.
"Yeah, they're all gone, damn it." Willie groused. "You know who did this?"
"You know well as I do, Bar T...." Jacob said.
"And Circle J." Willie nodded. "Damn. I'll send their bosses each half the bill, then."
"Well, good luck." Jacob said.
"You two want to earn two bits to help me sweep this all up?"
"Sorry." Jacob said for him and his new friend. "We got a previous appointment."
"Yeah, and they're waiting for us." Tyler chipped in.
"Good night, Willie." Jacob said. "And thanks for letting us hide behind the bar."
"Really nice place to hide." Tyler agreed.
And the two laughing cowhands went out into the night.
THE END
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