ATTENTION! This story contains sexual content of a homosexual nature between consenting adults. Everyone in this is fictional, and if any of the activities in this story, namely sex between men (specifically between adult men in the mid-1800s), happen to offend you or are in violation of what your jurisdiction deems appropriate for you to read, you should probably not continue. Feedback, suggestions, and comments are more than welcome to be sent to shawndilf@proton.me , along with if you enjoyed it enough to get off (love hearing that I made you cum hard). And I will never turn down photographic proof of your erections or loads shot. ;)
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Smith and Sheriff, Part V
"I could not even help myself," Richard muttered angrily as he downed his ale. "To think that I would get insulted in my own establishment like that by a pissing Dutchman with wee little hands that have never worked an honest day in their life!"
"You're starting to shout again. Calm down, my friend." Zeke was almost half leaning over the table as he looked at the smith with a worried expression. He actually hadn't ever seen Richard get upset, but today he had learned that the man's temper could get as fiery as his hair. His face had reddened to the point where it threatened to blend into the ruddy dark copper of his beard, the result of Richard whipping himself into a frenzy of rage over a particularly rude customer.
"I am calm," the smith hissed through grated teeth. And unfortunately, the stocky man had to admit that he was not exaggerating one bit. When Zeke had walked into the smithy, it had been just after Richard had chased out a particularly infuriating man who had brought his blood to a boil. So many things that a man should never say to a professional tradesman were said in a surprisingly short period that day. "To think that he would offer me a half-cart full of rust as trade for tools."
Zeke frowned as he swallowed a bite of biscuit. "I thought you took scrap in trade sometimes."
"Scrap iron," Richard said in quiet exasperation. "The important part is the iron. I work in iron and steel, not old junk that's rusted thin as paper, nor scraps of tin mixed in willy-nilly. It's more work than it's worth to use that shite."
The engineer raised his eyebrows at that. "You didn't mention that part earlier."
"I was still too mad," he admitted as he considered the plate of sausage. "This helps." Finn's saloon may not have been the smith's usual establishment of choice, but he could not deny that the man did serve food actually worth paying for. Even though Richard preferred to do his own cooking, the man did grudgingly admit that there were times where it was worthwhile to take a meal elsewhere. And he wasn't daft enough to want to make his own sausage, anyways.
His friend had walked in on him making a storm as he angrily was organizing his workshop. Zeke had decided to lock up his office early that day to enjoy one of the last beautiful days of autumn, and had made a choice to visit Richard while on his jaunt. It turned out to be a provident day to do so, since he found a man deeply in need of an ear and a drink.
"It wouldn't have been so bad, but I've been on edge since my apprentice took sick," the smith admitted after slicing another piece of sausage. "I'm glad nobody else seems to have caught it, but that boy is in no shape to give me a hand these days." He quickly speared the piece on the end of his fork and popped it into his mouth.
The dark-haired man took a long drink from his own tankard. "Is really all that's bothering you?"
"No," the redhead admitted. Even before Marcus had needed to leave on one of his little tours, the sheriff had been very busy and they hadn't been able to spend as much time together of late as he liked. "I've pretty much caught up on my reading, so it would be nice to deal with something else until the next shipment arrives." He had ordered a few more novels, as well as some professional work for a project of his. The former were due to be brought in within a fortnight, but as to the latter, he only had the good word of a man he'd corresponded with in Victoria that he would even be able to get ahold of the material. And that had been an introduction from an introduction to even find someone that could reach out.
The stumpy engineer gave a little smile that was almost buried within his shaggy beard at the statement. He had seen Richard make many trips to the post office down at the train station to pick up new books ever since the man had discovered a mail order service out of the east. Between that and a local reader's circle that Gareth had introduced him to, Richard's passion for the written word was completely sated. "You read them all? Even that instructional manual you had shipped in from my factor in Montreal?" Zeke also appreciated bawdy material in written form, though his tended to have far more illustrations on the pages than words, and had been willing to share a special catalogue for men of discerning tastes with his friend.
Now Richard felt his cheeks burning not with rage, but with something far different. "Missus Flaherty has my copy of Jane Eyre still, which is the only thing I really long to re-read at the moment. That other work is too academic to consider after a long day."
"Ah yes," Zeke said blandly, "'tis dreadfully dull to have to read theory and how to apply it on a lonely night, so I don't blame you for putting it off until such time as you can have your young buck back to work the bellows for you." The hint of a smile on his face was now wicked as he raised his mug for a long sip of the ale.
The smith willed himself not to raise to the bait. He liked Zeke far to much to start a fistfight in the saloon. The engineer's barb had stung more than the short man could've expected, since Richard was keenly feeling an absence in both his heart and his bed. "Is that a new vest?" He took a biscuit and dipped it in the heavy gravy while changing the topic.
"It is," the engineer confirmed, almost preening as he smoothed down the tan cotton front. "I'm rather pleased with it. I had a tailor take my measurements the last time I had to travel, and it arrived just the last week."
"You look like a banker," Richard snorted. Privately, he thought it suited Zeke extremely well. For all the railman's other faults, the man did take care to dress himself well each and every day. He refused to admit it at the moment, however. Instead, petty thoughts filled his mind as he hoped that Zeke would drip some of their luncheon right down his front.
"Perhaps," Zeke conceded, "but I do need to maintain a certain level of dignity each day." Managing operations for the division was, on paper, a very prestigious sounding position. Realistically, Highford hadn't quite moved very far beyond being end of the line, so drafting and revising the latest expansions as they came were still his tasks as well, which meant that he was bound by the pace of others, and the dispatcher and yardmaster took care of the bulk of everything else. He just got to have more responsibility as a representative, or blame, depending on the day. And when blessed by times like these where problems actually didn't impose too much on a station that was run as well as could be expected.
"I can think of somebody else that values dignity that way," the redhead replied in a casual tone.
The stumpy engineer shook his head at that. "Not enough to visit a proper tailor. Our mutual friend may have mastered presentation of the self, a noble art to be sure, but one should never wrap a crown in newsprint."
For a man obsessed with theories both grounded in science and esoteric in nature, the man had proven himself to be surprisingly concerned when it came to personal grooming, Richard had found out quickly. He had asked his beloved about it once after one of their evenings, and the sheriff had noted that they merely had opposing values. Zeke felt that clothes could make the man, while Richard found himself more in line with Marcus' opinion that it was the man that made the clothes.
The discussion moved onto a rousing discussion of the merits of new casting procedures. Zeke subscribed to several journals that detailed metallurgical advances, and inevitably lent them to Richard so that he could have someone else to talk with them about. While Richard had never actually had much of a formal education beyond his apprenticeship and journeyman travels, he found the scientific journals fascinating and quickly was able to hold his own in understanding the merits when it came to practical applications.
They split the rest of the meat and biscuits between them before deciding that they had had enough. Finn gladly took his due tender at the bar as they settled the difference for the last round and bid them a good afternoon after thanking them for the patronage.
It wasn't a long walk to their next destination, that being Jack's barbershop. Much like how Highford's current size was just right for an all-purpose blacksmith, it also exceedingly suited a barber who didn't particularly like to stay open late. While many establishments in growing towns might be open well beyond sunset nearly every day of the week, Jack chose to restrict his own hours to what he felt were optimal for himself. Granted, when the season called for it and he knew that there would be a line of men out the door having just finished a cattle drive, he would serve them all. Otherwise, he was content with taking whoever showed up when his doors were open and giving them the level of service that they paid for.
He had decided to take a slightly different tack to his enterprise, and rather than expand his shop as the town grew and surrounding areas tried to bloom themselves, he seized a very timely opportunity. The storefront next door had gone out of business, thanks to the proprietor being a very poor businessman who ended up forfeiting it over the taxes he owed. It most likely should have been put up for auction, but somehow it slipped through the cracks and the deed was granted to one Jack Reddington for a minimal price, contents included, on a very rainy night above the courthouse.
The wares had fetched a decent return, and soon Jack had a boiler installed to make a proper bathing area for patrons in the upstairs. He had been training a young man in the art of the barbershop, but that man did not particularly have the skill of hand required to truly be a master, only the passion of enjoying the career. If one simply wanted their hair cut or was content to wear a hat most of the day, then there was no issue since the young man truly could only perform a single cut adequately. And there were more than enough that only wanted to be cleaned up, whether just from the length of their manes or the dirt of the road.
Danny didn't truly have the right mindset for running a business on his own and was clever enough to recognize it, so he accepted the idea of getting a lesser share of the profits and included board in the second shop over the idea of losing his shirt venturing out on his own. Jack figured that by the time he was ready to put down his combs and scissors, that the kid might finally be ready to take over the reins, though he hoped to give him at least another twenty years or so to get the hang of it.
It had also had the pleasant effect of making the retired sailor's shopfront a place where he could be more selective of his clientele. There was no spitting on the floor in Jack's shop, and any that wanted to congregate there as local gossips tended to do had to either pay in advance for their cut for the day or purchase the privilege by way of bringing acceptable food, drink, or something of equivalent value to the floor. If one just wished to be rowdy and coarse, there was a different venue to serve that right next door. But if a man wanted only the best, to receive a full service that would leave a man looking as fresh and perfect that one would wonder if he was running for office, then that man went to Jack. The shop was nicer, the blades were sharper, even the shaving soaps and finishing tonics were finer. He didn't charge everybody the same rate, Richard knew that for a fact as the price that Jack had set for him was the same as the butcher next door and he would've needed a pair of nickels to make up the difference to the posted price. But the smith suspected that it had a lot to do with the fact that he had stated that he never really saw the point to having to pay a premium for a cut, as it all grew back and he wouldn't see the difference. That, and Jack liked him.
Ever the professional, Jack did take their coin in exchange for the promise of company. In return, the pair got to enjoy a brief history of the importance of a barber within a community in the very rare dead times he had that day. Richard noticed that Zeke wanted to quibble over certain facts, which amused the smith during the congregation. Zeke's nature was to always to speak his mind on whether something was correct or not. At the very least Richard found the conversation rather educational, though he did appreciate that the world was moving towards a more civilized specialization of talents. While he didn't mind performing a bonesetting once in a blue moon, he would much rather have a trained physician or doctor in town to care care of those things properly.
It was nearly time for their supper by the time business had finally faded for the barber that he felt that it was time to turn over his sign for the day. With the windows shuttered and the lack of signage dissuading folk from stopping in, the three were finally able to speak freely amongst themselves. "This was a trying day," Jack groused lightheartedly as he tidied up his bench.
"I can imagine," the engineer said as he watched Jack disinfect his blades with pure spirits. "We were here when that ranch boss walked in."
Jack sighed wistfully, looking up with a dreamy smile on his face. "Angels walk among us to remind us that the hand of the divine might grace us all."
"Yes, and the fact that he looked like he was hiding a stick of dynamite down his jeans had little to do with your opinion," said the stocky man as he rolled his eyes. "You should've told him a clean shave doesn't suit him, since a beard would hide that weak chin." Zeke was not shy to voice his opinions, though today it seemed that they were tinted green with jealousy. Richard was almost certain that Zeke looked at nearly every man alive as a potential competitor, which was entertaining to say the least.
The smith stifled a laugh at that. The barber was never shy to those that knew him well about how much he enjoyed physical sensation and simply being in the presence of a man of decent stock. It was one of the reasons that Jack stated as how he had become such a master of the strap and blade, since he simply enjoyed being in the presence of a man and being able to see how to bring out their best features came naturally to him. He was very much a social creature, and was gifted with the ability to put others at ease with the ability to hold a good conversation with any.
"Richard," Jack said pleasantly as he began to rehone his favourite razor, "would you escort our friend to the door? It seems that he's decided to tell me what to do in my own shopfront."
Zeke took a step back at that statement. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in defeat. "I shan't comment again. You need not banish me." The barrel-chested engineer clearly was a touch repentant that he had been so openly disdainful. For all that Zeke could be abrasive enough that Richard was tempted to borrow his tongue as a file, he had noticeably softened in the past weeks when it came to certain people.
"I suppose that I have grown fond of you, even if you do run your mouth," Jack said as he put down his tools and went over to tousle the shorter man's hair. It was a favourite tease of his to muss up Zeke's thick hair, and then usually move to touching the rest of the stocky engineer if they were in an appropriate setting. Zeke made an aggrieved sound, but did not look upset for the attention.
"Now how about we put those peppercorns that I brought you to good use, and the three of us can have some flavour in a good meal."
"Perhaps in a bit," Jack agreed heartily as he looked over to Richard. He had noticed a slight distance to the smith over the past week, and understood the cause. It had not been lost on him that his friend had taken to worrying since the man's heart was gallivanting to and fro every corner of the county as the season wound down.
Jack walked over to his chair and thumped the back of it a couple times. "Come on," he cajoled, "you look like you could use a trim." When Zeke moved forward, Jack waved him away with an idle gesture. "Not you," he muttered, "Richard, come sit for me."
Not wanting to argue, Richard did as he was told. "I may have to owe you," he said softly aware that he hadn't been keeping track of how much coinage he had remaining.
Jack began to tie his sheet around his friend's neck. "Nonsense. You've been good company this day, so I'm sure that whatever business you forfeited to come and spend time with an old man like me is well beyond what I could charge you."
"I do enjoy your tales," the red-haired man admitted. He knew that Jack had to have embellished most of his tales, but his stories were still masterfully told. And to be honest, it was a nice change to listen to him describe what it had been like to have sailed under Napier to the Levant. He could almost feel his blood surge at the descriptions of being at Beirut.
"I think I'll need to give your hair a wash," Jack said in a sour tone. "You've been wiping sooty fingers across your head again." He retrieved his bucket from under his shelf and went to fill it from his drinking water cask. Richard was instructed to assume the position, and leaned forward in the chair to Roughly, he used a rag to wet the man's head and face, then began to vigorously scrub his hair with a bar until a frothy lather was achieved.
Richard had to bite his lip at the feeling of strong fingers running across his scalp and cheeks. It wasn't every day that he received both a deserved rebuke and then was rewarded with a massage. "I was frustrated today," he said into the bucket as it collected the sluice from the grooming, "and I wasn't thinking. Usually, I wear the cap that I always do, but it was bothering me and I couldn't deal with feeling it all day."
"Well, you should only be frustrated for another day or two. So I might as well let you look your best, since it's clear you only have one thing on your mind these day and I'd rather not you disappoint him." Satisfied with the state of his client, Jack examined Richard's hair in closer attention before deciding how far he was going to trim it back.
Richard felt himself flush at the barber's words. "Am I so obvious to you?"
"To both of us," Zeke chortled. "But only because we've gotten to know you well. You're an irritable person by nature, so it's our secret what's really burning you. Though I think Jack just wants to play with your beard, since I sincerely doubt that you could ever disappoint your man."
"You make it sound like I own him."
"You do," Jack commented gruffly. "Like it or not, you've bridled that storm, so you better be ready to ride the devastation. I don't know how you actually managed to reap a whirlwind, but it's been a pleasure to see both of you find satisfaction in a hard world." He roughly shifted Richard's head to the side to give himself a better angle to begin clipping.
"What the blazes are you even talking about?"
"Less talking," Jack barked. "Oh, you'll figure it out eventually, you're still young enough." The older man continued with his work, his comb catching out stray hairs as he went on with trimming. Clipping with the comb continued for a while until Jack felt like he had gone far enough.
The barber began to lather up Richard's neck before pulling out his straight razor. "Now, let's get you lathered up and I'll clean up the edges for you." He worked quickly, and even cleaned up the lines on Richard's cheeks after finishing reducing his beard down to a slimmer silhouette. He frowned for a moment once finishing, and removed a couple offending hairs from the inside edge of his brows while he was there. A quick clean with the washcloth, and a recomb after drying a bit more, and soon Richard was ready for a touch of light pomade to finish it off.
"Oh, that looks brilliant," the smith said as he looked in Jack's mirror as the barber finished up. With the bucket relinquished and the sheet being removed, he found himself in awe of the man's mastery of his craft.
"Of course you do," Jack said with great pleasure. "It's easy enough for the sculptor to create a masterpiece with good materials. It's working with men that are less gifted in either the face or in how much hair time has left them that is the real challenge. Truth be, it's relaxing to be able to make a man as handsome as you look your finest."
"Yes yes, now who looks the part of the slick banker?" Zeke added with a good humoured jibe.
Turning his head to marvel at how clean and fresh his beard looked, Richard couldn't help but laugh. "I definitely wouldn't trust this man if I dealt with him. Looks like he only needed to get by on his looks and I'd have to check his hands to see if he'd worked a day with them."
"Now, what about your payment for this? It's not fair for Richard to walk away a dandy when you're left holding the broom." There was a curious smirk on Zeke's face as he spoke.
"I'd have helped you sweep, but you already got most of it," the smith said bashfully. "I didn't expect to need more coin than I brought for admission to your company this afternoon, and I won't insult you by offering the scraps from my pocket. Just name your price, and I'll be happy to deliver the next time I see you."
The engineer began to laugh. "Oh, I don't think that you'll be able to settle today's debt with dollars, or even pounds. Though perhaps our friend might be willing to take a pound of flesh this day to call it even."
Jack was just finishing removing his apron and hanging it on its hook as he turned with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Aye, that sounds like a capital idea. I did say I wouldn't charge you coin this day, but I think with you being such a dapper gent now, you can definitely return a service in kind."
Zeke grunted agreement, his hand having dipped low to start squeezing at the front of his trousers. "It seems to me that I will find myself in need of relief soon. Might I suggest that we retire to your quarters so that this pretty boy can kneel on a soft carpet to service your hard wood rather than kneel on wood hard enough to keep him soft."
"The way you torture words..." Jack said shaking his head as he looked over at the door. "You're closer, so go make sure the bar is solid across the door. Make sure both the front and the passage to next door are locked." Not waiting for Zeke's response, the older man put a hand on Richard's arm, and directed him to follow upstairs. "Just leave your boots by the stairs," Jack directed as they reached the top, pulling off his own to avoid tracking any excess dust or muck onto his clean floors and carpets.
Richard did as he was told, and when he was standing beside Jack next to the bed. The older man clapped a hand on the redhead's shoulder as they were lined up face to face. "Now, boy," Jack said in a hungry tone as he put a little force behind his hand, "get to work."
It took very little prompting for the smith to get to his knees, the woven rags of the carpet providing a comfortable place for him to rest. With one hand, he began to rub at the growing lump distorting the front of Jack's trousers, while he braced himself by reaching around and firmly grasping the man's buttocks in a splayed grip. The dexterous movements of a man eager to satisfy a burning hunger were quick and purposeful as the securements were soon undone. The buckle rattled against the brass top button as Richard quickly undid it, finding only mild trouble with the rest as Jack's hardness strained against the fabric.
The barber gave a loud sigh as he felt his suddenly free trousers be slid down to his knees along with his drawers. As Jack watched, Richard began to rub his freshly trimmed beard against the newly exposed hardness, the still soft hair feeling ethereal as the smith ran his face across his friend's member. Richard progressed to fondling the barber's heavy balls, rolling them in his fingers while he let the turgid shaft drift against his lips and letting his facial hair be a natural channel.
Above him, Jack groaned as he felt the first flickering touch of the red-haired man's tongue against his glans, the clear droplet that had begun to accrue at his tip being devoured almost automatically. With a deliberately slow motion, Richard gripped his friend's shaft to draw back his foreskin fully and proceeded to swipe his tongue around the ridge of the man's head before beginning to gently suckle at it.
"Ugh, you deserve a commission for how well you do that," the older man hissed as Richard continued to engulf him. There was no lack of enthusiasm on the burly man's part, as Richard found Jack's manhood to be a pleasant size for devouring. The six inches slid easily over his tongue as he bobbed himself on the thick prong, savouring the salty taste of a randy man. It was as welcoming as the faint smells of soaps and pomades providing a faint overlay to the complex warm, mature scent of the man.
As Richard continued his hungry pleasure, Jack felt another hand begin to tug at his shirt. While he had become so easily engrossed in the act, Zeke had fully disrobed beside him. As his vision was free once again with the shirt passing over his head, the barber licked his lips as he watched the shorter man's left hand furiously pumping at his own arousal. "He looks good on his knees," the dark-haired man said in a low, lewd tone as he leaned close to his lover.
"That he does," Jack agreed, and put his arm around Zeke to draw him closer and invite him to stand skin to skin. As he gripped Zeke's hairy shoulder, he grinned at other man with obvious pleasure to be able to share the experience. From below, Richard gagged as his head was jostled by the sudden pressure of Zeke's form against him as the two men gave him little room.
Gasping for air, Richard panted momentarily, then turned himself to begin to service Zeke's hard prick. The sheer girth of the stocky man's pole took a moment for him to adjust to, but soon he was suckling at the man's fat cockhead as if it had been there for a lifetime. With one hand, he began to work Jack's prick as he let his tongue trace the prominent veins that ran down Zeke's shaft before trading off and lapping at both of them in turn. Above, the men were busy engaging their own tongues with each other, just as eager to maximize what the situation was granting them.
"He's almost as good as you at that," Zeke muttered as he looked down at the redhead once more slathering over his manhood.
"And you," Jack agreed. The short man was an enthusiast when it came to ensuring that his partner received his own satisfaction as good as he gave. In fact, the barber could feel his friend's thick fingers at his cleft, eagerly massaging the hole that Zeke had laid claim to so many times.
"We should have him open you up for me," the dark-haired engineer spoke lustily, his middle finger circling Jack's pucker with anticipation. These days, Zeke was a frequent enough visitor that it took little preparation for the bigger man to receive his girth. It had never been a thing of trouble, but even the mind's willingness was aided by a body trained to anticipate the pleasure of repeated rammings.
"Oh, I would like that," Jack breathed. "I would like it very much for us to share that." From below, Richard made a sound of concurrence as he gagged on the barber's flesh.
Richard continued to work his mouth on Jack's piece as Zeke left them for a moment, retrieving the oil from where he knew that his lover stashed it. He generously began to work a slick finger into Jack's hairy hole, working Jack up to being ready to take a throbbing cock.
"Right, time for you to get on the bed," Zeke said heartily, giving Jack a swat as he withdrew his digits. They finished disrobing quickly, the need for full nudity an unspoken need for them to continue forward in their afternoon pursuits. Richard's pole was standing at full attention as he finally removed his garments, the redhead's attention being directed towards servicing the two other men rather than himself. It was solid as a rail spike as Zeke reached over and helpfully oiled the man's cock for him.
The smith was panting loudly, taking the opportunity to catch his breath as Jack laid on his back and hooked his hands under his knees. There was no hesitation in the ex-navyman's actions, as he was well-practised in assuming his favourite position. There was also no hesitation in Richard's movement as he moved himself to the bedside and grasped Jack's hairy thighs to position him properly.
Zeke scrambled up onto the bed to straddle his lover's face, knowing that his heavy balls would find a welcome placement where Jack could lap at them. Indeed, the stocky man squeezed his hard rod vigorously as he enjoyed his prime view of Richard lining himself up. Jack was aroused to the point that his prick was right against his silver-furred belly, still relatively flat even after all these years. The barber's heavy nuts were pulled tight, hiding nothing as the dark head of the smith's cock approached its target.
With relish, Richard pushed forward gently but firmly, sliding the tip into a welcoming warmth. He groaned as he forced himself to not drive his aching hardness straight to the hilt, but rather just hold for a moment and let Jack adjust to his presence. Almost tantalizingly, he let his glans rest just inside the barber, savouring the encompassing heat. Jack's cock twitched in response to the invasion, leaking slightly even as the older man was busy slurping at Zeke's hairy sack. He let his gaze linger on the barrel-bodied man, busy stroking his own meat as he took his pleasure at both the bearded maw beneath him and watching the impending violation occurring before him.
The smith pushed himself forward, slowly and deliberately controlled as he felt the barber tighten around him. He could feel the older man's muscles react to the invasion, the strain to not buck himself back onto the thickness that promised so much pleasure. He locked his eyes with Zeke, not breaking contact with those dark brown depths as he inched closer and closer. Finally, when he felt the tangles of his base touch snugly to Jack's flesh, Richard leaned himself forward to brace himself better. As he began to slowly rock himself, building the motion of his hips into a steady rhythm that became greater and greater in cadence, Richard allowed a satisfied moan to escape his throat.
"He has such a good arse on him," Zeke spoke in a lewd tone as he shifted himself on his knees to move forward. Reaching out, he grasped Richard's shoulder and invited him in to share a long kiss above Jack's engaged form.
"Truly," Richard breathed into Zeke's hedge of a beard as he grunted with effort, his pace starting to accelerate. It was no secret that Jack enjoyed a man's affections to be delivered hard and roughly, and with the strength built from a lifetime working with hard metals, Richard was able to deliver that in spades. His shoulders bunched as he put more of his weight onto his thick arms, slamming his core forward in quick motion that made Jack shudder in bliss beneath them.
Over and over, Richard thrust himself with enough force to make the bed shake even with the weight of two full-grown men on top. Each creak punctuated his actions, a pleasing rhythm underscoring the gasps and grunts of male voices. He could feel Jack begin to tense beneath him, and slowed his own actions. Panting, he hunched back, refusing to obey his baser urges and bring both of them to the brink of release.
"Give me a moment," he said as he held himself steady before beginning a slow withdrawal. "I'd like to take care of both of you this day," he added with eyes narrowed with lust. Richard's blood was running hot now, and his hungers were too great for him to pass up a second course at this meal.
The broad-chested engineer moved off of Jack, laying beside his ravaged paramour in order to give the man a break. His broad palm rested idly on Jack's heaving chest, dragging trails through the dampened hair. As always, Zeke found himself besotted by the older man's presence in an almost single-minded devotion. He slid his arms across Jack's strong chest in order to press them together, delighting in the wiry sensation that accompanied the motion.
"I suppose you better hand over the oil then," Zeke said, looking down his lover's body at the hard-bodied smith that was stroking himself in deliberately slow strokes.
With a curt nod, Richard retrieved the item as Zeke came to sit at the foot of the bed. "Slide back, you big oaf," the engineer said warmly to Jack as he began to oil his tool. "I'll keep myself in him and then you can get me ready."
Eagerly, Zeke got himself in position, and let the head of his prick enter the welcoming orifice. As he began to steadily move further into Jack's meaty arse, a growl of approval came from the barber as he felt the familiar solidity of the man he adored splitting him.
Richard took the opportunity to slide a well-oiled digit into the engineer's crack, homing in on his hairy pucker and felt it twitch excitedly at first contact. It easily yielded to barely any pressure, and soon the smith was letting the pad of his finger across the man's favourite gland. That prompted Zeke to press himself to the hilt into Jack, unable to contain his body's reaction to the invading pleasure.
"That's the spot," Zeke groaned as he felt that stroking motion intensify as a second finger began to move in tandem within him. The thick-bodied man felt his cock twitch on each upstroke, making Jack's hole feel more snug even as his slow pistoning continued. Over and over, the engineer continued his rhythms, until he felt the thick fingers' withdrawal, the anticipation of what was to come causing him to pause with his flesh pressed deep into Jack.
Richard crouched down slightly to adjust his angle, and then brought himself to the edge of penetration. "Christ, you're tight," he swore as he deliberately slid himself fully into the shorter man's arse. The hot passage welcomed his intrusion even as the smith felt its silken grip against him pulse in time with Zeke's shudders. He braced himself on Zeke's broad frame, and began to rail his friend. The smith started slowly, if not particularly gently, but quickly moved to a more energetic pace to the delight of all three men.
Zeke groaned like a wounded man as his passage was ravaged with each thrust, his appreciation as blatant as could be, while Jack's own sounds were more muted but no less pleased. The barber's eyes had rolled back in his head as he felt Zeke's shaft thicken even more as he was impaled by Richard, and the feeling of the stocky man within him was intensified from the weighty force being provided by the smith's fornication.
There was naught but the groans of three men lost in their lust and the wet sounds of flesh slapping and slipping against flesh. There was a sort of balance that was settled into as Richard would deliver a hard thrust into Zeke, driving him deep into Jack before almost being pulled back as the smith brought his body back to begin the cycle anew. With Richard's hands firmly on Zeke's muscles, the stocky engineer was almost brought along to transmit the heavy motions.
Again and again, Richard continued to ravage Zeke's arse, prompting the dark-haired man to babble insensibly as the tempo increased. Almost too late, Zeke managed to choke out a warning. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," he said frantically as he felt his heavy balls finally release the thick flood that he had felt building. With a growl punctuated with stuttering from the continuing pounding that his hairy backside was enduring, Zeke thrust himself forward into Jack and near collapsed against the man's legs.
Jack, for his part, had no complaints. He had a marvellous view of the man he cared for most of all getting absolutely reamed out and got to feel every single movement be transmitted as Richard's hulking form moved in its purpose. Zeke's rod had remained as hard as steel, not even seeming to have begun wilting even after the torrent of his seed had diminished, and the way it moved inside Jack's guts was delightful indeed. There was an unfamiliar rhythm to it, far different than Zeke's favoured manner, yet no less welcome. Indeed, Jack felt his own piece dripping with the evidence of his enjoyment as the hard prick had split him again and again, those times that he dared to touch himself before withdrawing his grip lest he lose himself too early.
Indeed, Richard seemed implacable, a wild and hungry hint of a smile as his tongue flicked rakishly against his top lip as he took his prize. Zeke's arse had tightened beautifully on him while the man met his climax, but if nothing else, Richard was willing to listen when the man had pleaded with him not to stop. Instead, he increased his speed, and began to drive himself harder into Zeke with all his prowess.
"Harder," the engineer panted even as he was forced down by the burly blacksmith. There was no escape from Richard's grip, for all the heavy muscle and sinew that came with working with hard metal was now being brought to bear directly on his arsehole. And truly, Zeke was near ecstatic with the rough treatment that he was receiving. It had been many a long day since the last time he had found himself being so thoroughly used by a man in the heat of his rut, and he relished every moment of it. The scent of their sweaty bodies intermingling with the tang of their fluids, the slick sounds of their moist flesh slapping and moving against each other with every motion of their tangled bodies. The sight of Jack beneath him, being brought to his own climax in a way that the dark-haired man had no control over how it was being done.
"I'll flood you, that what you need?" By this time, Richard was pulling his entire length from Zeke's arse before slamming it hard into that hairy hole.
"Do it," Jack egged him on, feeling his own climax building as the engineer's still hard prick was forcing his own release closer on every slam.
With a few final rough stabs into Zeke, Richard's cock grew even more turgid and his heavy nuts began to release a torrent within his friend. He humped himself deeper against Zeke's big arse, even as wave after wave of thick seed was sent deep inside the man's guts. The big smith let out a shuddering sigh of relief as his body's needs were met even as he let himself fall across Zeke's broad back.
Watching the bestial expression on the smith's face was enough to tip Jack's own breaking point when combined with the rod that had slammed against his gland one last time, and he pulled his arms around Zeke and muffled his groans on the engineer's mouth. Trapped between their hairy forms, his cock spurted again and again, while his arse contracted in time with his pleasure to milk Zeke's rod. This had the knock-on effect of bringing Zeke to a second climax, with the sensations that were being lavished on every part of him being almost too much to bear.
Together, all three of them writhed as they came down from the heights of their shared session. Wet and sticky from the exertion, Richard withdrew himself to collapse on the bed next to Jack with Zeke quickly following. Looking over, Richard could see that Zeke's massive beard was shining brightly with the sweat collected, and he could see that it leaving wet traces against the man's chest when touching flesh.
His chest still heaving, Richard put an arm around both of his friends, content at the feeling of them on each side of him. Jack leaned in to lay against him, their bodies still damp with sweat, and Zeke soon followed suit. "I do believe that I needed that," the redhead said jovially.
"I think we all needed that," Jack added as he rubbed his beard against the coppery chest hair. Both he and Zeke were happy with the service that had been provided to both of them.
Eventually, the three of them got tired of simply laying there, especially as the air cooled their forms. They dressed quickly enough, and Jack offered to feed them. As neither Zeke nor Richard were apt to turn down sustenance, they took advantage of their friend's offer. Soon, the scent of diced onions mixed with potatoes and hash filled their noses, as the two interlopers made conversation with their host.
"I almost wish that you still had the upstairs set up for more baths," Zeke said as he watched the skillet sizzle from the table.
"I don't," Jack shook his head. "Putting four tubs and that washpan in the other side was the best thing I did for my sanity. Do you know how much I hated paying for a helper to attend those stupid men in my own shop? And then most of them were silly enough put on the dang road-worn things they just took off rather than pay for a quick wash."
"You just hated that they all wanted some nice young girl to help wash their bits rather than get your big hands all over them," the engineer shot back.
"Damn straight," came the reply almost instantaneously as Jack stirred a pan. "Cowboys and drifters all make a mess, but barely half of them have the decency to sit in my chair wearing nothing but one of my towels and a smile while their gear got laundered. What sort of world are we coming to when men won't show some skin to their barber? One tub upstairs is enough for me these days, and getting that little extension between the buildings built to connect them means I barely lose any business to Danny if they want a good cut after the wash."
"I think you are possibly the smartest, most entitled frontier barber I have ever had the pleasure of knowing," laughed Zeke. "I am glad that at least everyone here has a modicum of sense when it comes to taking care of themselves. There is nothing worse than when one's struggling while the rest prosper."
Richard held back a sigh, knowing that Zeke hadn't intended to remind him of the rough start he'd gotten out to in Highford. Things were definitely good now, but it had still stung to have to begin anew. Business was far better since, but he still felt like he was still getting the hang of this new life. "I'm not looking forward to the winter even with a good season under my belt," the smith admitted.
Jack clicked his tongue even as he turned to deal with the now-whistling kettle. "It's not nearly as bad as further north or south. The winds around here get strange and we don't get the sorts of cold that would freeze saltwater solid." The barber placed the kettle on a wood block on the table before returning to his skillet. "Can you pour me a cup as well?"
The redhead obliged, and there were soon three mugs of tea steeping. "That's good to hear."
"You can always come down to our athletics club if you need to warm up some on the dead days. It might give you something to do." He continued to explain at length how much he enjoyed a good bout of boxing or wrestling with some of the other men.
Zeke made a disgusted sound. "Foolishness." The engineer's husky build made it clear what he thought about engaging in regular exercise beyond what the day brought him.
"Or you can just stand around and bet on it," Jack said as he began to serve the skillet's content's to them, bowl by bowl.
Richard smiled as he recalled bouts wrestling with the other lads when he was younger. It had been a long time since he had engaged in such, but perhaps it would be a good way to weather the slowest season and keep himself sane. "I might have to take you up on that," he said cheerily as he waited for the food to cool enough that he wouldn't burn his mouth.
"You should," the barber replied. "You're stronger than most of the men in town just from what you do. A little training, and you could probably stand against just about anyone. I've always enjoyed fisticuffs, and I think it helps ward off the creaks of my bones as I inch closer to the grave as well."
They continued with the conversation as they enjoyed the meal and refreshment, but after a couple more hours of conversation, Richard decided that it was time to head home. He thanked both of them for their company, and let Jack show him to the door.
Walking back to his shop, the smith found himself with a bit more spring in his step. It wasn't just the sexual release that had buoyed his mood, he realized, but the social aspect of it all. Having Zeke and Jack as friends that he could talk to about day to day happenings was a marked improvement for him. Even more than that they occasionally found themselves in each other's beds, there was a good comradery between them on their shared interests.
"Yes indeed, I think I did make the right choice," he said to himself as he looked up into the dimming sky. Even when the love of his life wasn't around, Richard was starting to become very attached to his new life and the ways that it was changing him for the better.
From the author:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/smith-and-sheriff/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/griff-and-drew/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/hard-working-brothers/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/dads-hot-tub