"Stagecoach to Laramie"
Part 10
In the morning, Jake and Slater were at work helping Slater's pa, Jonathan, was at the mercantile in Laramie. The men in the bunkhouse were on the range, and Herman was in Laramie having lunch with the schoolteacher. What could be nicer?
The house was on the quiet side for sure. Sonny alone on the farm, washed the dishes, straightened up the house, and scrubbed a few clothes by hand. The simple chores, including the laundry drying on a rope clothesline behind the house, just about tired him out.
It was such a joy for Sonny to think about quality cock sucking. He was a late bloomer, compared to Jake and Slater, but he managed with his brand of lust to use his pecker wildly into a breath-taking explosion, when necessary.
After lying between Jake and Slater a few times, he learned there simply is nothing better than a willing, warm mouth with firm, tight lips drawing pleasure out of a cowboy. Sonny was good. Whenever a wrangler wanted him to be a bad boy, he only got better.
Sonny took a bath, put on clean duds, and went out to the stoop. He became a farmer all cleaned up with no place to go. He smiled, gazing at the hills and mountain in the distance.
"It must be a good thing," Sonny quietly pondered. He never felt like a square peg stuck in a round hole, even when fun in the hayloft turned obscene. He wanted to feel like a man, if only for a little while. He was not the same person as Jake and Slater he was different, because he thought about things differently. His two best friends were his only friends, the matchless pair of wranglers in Laramie.
A rider on horseback, coming from the neighboring ranch, barreled across a field. Their closest neighbor, Ralph Dawson, seldom came to the farm. The rider stopped in front of the porch, partially hidden by vines, and said, "Howdy!" Only it wasn't Ralph Dawson, it was Joe!
"I brought you a newspaper and wanted to see my favorite cowboys," said Joe climbing down from his horse, not waiting for an invite. He sat in a wicker chair next to Sonny reclining in a ripe swing. The ropes were extra wide and two people could fit together, but Sonny made no effort to move. Joe handed Sonny the newspaper.
"Jake and Slater are not here, they are in Laramie. You probably missed seeing them."
"No, I saw them. They were drinking coffee in Lena's Café, with some old dude." Joe replied, eyes glued to Sonny's lanky frame, peeking between his legs.
"That was probably Slater's pa, they are helping him today."
"Yup, I believe that's right."
"How come you were at the Dawson place, bringing them a newspaper too?" inquired Sonny.
"Naw, I turned down the wrong road thinking I was coming here, Ralph told me to cut across the field, it would be quicker, and so that's what I did."
"Oh – yeah, it is shorter than taking the road."
"Scooch over, I want to sit next to you," said Joe, only inches' away from Sonny' chest.
"Suppose I sit next to you," Sonny replied, this swing is not that stable."
"You're missing the point," Joe mentioned getting closer.
"I'm not missing, I am guessing. If I sit on your lap, you can hold and feel my legs. I am very smart, I know what you want."
Sonny knew that Joe had sex with Jake in Laramie, so he was prepared to say and do anything, thinking queer talking would never shock him.
"My real pa, (continued Sonny) a Comanche, would say, "There is nothing as warm as four bare feet in a bed. – come on?" Sonny walked into the house with Joe behind him.
"Well, come on," continued Sonny. I'm not going bare footed on the stoop, follow me."
Sonny' body, golden with wiry flesh, moved as he waked. The cheeks of his ass were hot cross buns twitching to a Comanche dance. Sonny was Joe's favorite, and in the matter of minutes, they were in the bedroom.
"Boots off, - bare feet," said Sonny.
"Pants off, - bare crotch, added Joe.
Joe did something unlike him. He kissed Sonny, gently at first, and then clung to him in hunger. Golly, that was a first for Joe. He thought Sonny was exceptional, being wise beyond his years.
Sonny's face was firmly chiseled and masculine for a nineteen-year-old young man. He wasn't fruity; he was hard looking handsome, and just a meal away.
"You smell so good," mumbled Joe lifting Sonny's naked body onto the bed.
"I took a bath before you got here. I used Jake's lilac water." "I did too, but no lilac water, only soap," replied Joe, also naked lying next to Sonny.
Sonny stopped making small talk. He hungered for cock and Joe had a super pecker with matching set of working balls.
"Geezus, you are wonderful," said Joe, holding Sonny in his arms.
"I'm a slut, we are all sluts, Slater, Jake, and me."
"Awe, that's hard to believe. You cow punchers like sex, homo sex, and so do I," admitted Joe. "I didn't think I could say that, but, yeah, I just did."
"Ring a bell, and a whore comes running," giggled Sonny, ready to get down to serious action for his forty-year-old partner, who, age-wise, could have been his pa. Age meant nothing. Homo cowboys with sticky peckers, feeding the hungry, was more importin than a person's age; just ring the damn bell.
What a cowboy needs besides a willing ranch-hand, is a safe place for sex that he can depend on. When Slater, Jake and Sonny's peckers got warm, (practically every day) it was time for using each other. They always found a safe place to be together. The attraction to a cowboy's body is "Double B" - Bulge and Butt, and it works every time like moths to a flame.
Sonny had no special feelings for Joe only for his daddy-like body. He preferred older men but finding an older cowboy for sex was nearly impossible for him. He was a boyish half-breed, in a period where wranglers and cowboys were the men; even though folks referred to ranch hands as "the boys." Somebody like Sonny they called, "Kid," and no cowboy liked kids, as ranch hands.
Sonny twitched around going over Joe's naked firm body gobbling and nipping gently his flesh from his neck to his toes. Joe was getting a treatment beyond royal. Sonny gobbled a genuine man filling his desire, if only for a little while. He had Joe's legs apart and working on his balls between taking deep plunges on his excited sticky cock. The flavor of a hot crotch stimulated the moment. Sonny, right now, was the best pecker eater within shotgun range. Joe was his lunch.
Working between Joe's hairy legs, Sonny wanted to slurp ass, and fuck him. Everything seemed altered from the dirty sex he would have with Slater and Jake. Every cowboy had the same body parts – but Joe was different, and Sonny couldn't explain it, but needed to check it out.
There is bound to be a cowpoke who "hems and haws," however sex being part of life, was what a cowboy like Joe needed. The way he was feeling, right at this particular moment, was messing up his mind terribly. He wanted some homo playtime, and Sonny was more than fun, he was magnificent and serious. It was enough to startle him, but only slightly.
Joe, being stronger, pulled Sonny away from his balls, and lifted his body up to his own face. He flipped Sonny's smooth hairless legs on his shoulder and began licking the sweet buns of his cheeky ass. He was firm but delicate. Joe did what felt right going by animal instinct. He kissed his ass; he licked his balls from behind, and ate his crack like a fresh peach from a prize tree.
"Oh, do it – do it, commanded Sonny. He knew he had this sexy man hooked. He was getting what he wanted from Joe, yet he would continue sleeping with Slater and Jack. It is the "Call of the Wild" so the bell keeps ringing, and the whores keep coming.
Perhaps, Joseph was a closet cowboy with homo training. He surly had the cock and the body to perform like a stud. He had to stop thinking so much. Why fuck up a good moment, debating with one's self...
Joe had Sonny wet with spit from his balls, clear into his pinkish tight hole. He kept dropping spit, as he worked his big hog into Sonny's tight warm cavern. Joe was obviously a cowboy who loved to fuck, plain and simple. Sonny commented on how big it was, trying to get him to slow down, but he kept sliding his thick hungry cock into him.
You've got me now," Sonny mumbled. Joe, with a steady rhythm, continued fucking up and down on top of him. Joe had Sonny's leg apart exploring every bit of his "chicken-like" body. Let's face it, he was an Indian slut, well half Indian, the rest was white homo. It felt wonderful, and Sonny wanted more of whatever Joe thought like doing to him. He experienced training as a young lad facing challenges. This pastime was no challenge it was easy, open your leg, and relax.
Sonny barely gave a huffing go-ahead when Joe was already pushing into a little hole between some very sexy ass cheeks. Sonny moved a little to accommodate Joe's hips pressed into his backside, allowing Joe's mature pecker to slide inside, completely out of sight.
Sonny wondered how he got to this objective in life fucked like the town tramp. That thought passed quickly realizing the genuine sluts were saloon women hustling drunken cowboys and taking their money, in order to get their peckers wet. That definitely was not the stagecoach boys. They were harmless cowboys and not like the tramps in Laramie.
Joe rode Sonny like a bull so happy the way his body made him feel. He wanted to stop and give attention to Sonny' face, but was reaching the point of no return. He tried to stop, but it was good – yeah so good, he shot off coating Sonny' bowels with warm cream, not stopping shot after shot. He stayed inside his body until he slowly slid out. Sticky white sauce trickled out from the quivering hole, and Joe, pushed it back in where he felt it belonged.
I just raped you baby boy," panted Joey breathlessly." I fucked my boy."
"I'm too fully grown, not a baby. You didn't rape me pa, you bred me." Joe stretched his body on top of him like a bear protecting its cub. He liked Sonny saying "Pa," it sounded sizzling hot he could fuck that little ass again.
This particular fuck opened a new window for Joe. Sonny was more than a hole for his pecker to dump its juice like a storage bin. He didn't know what to think, but he wanted to protect him. In fact, he wanted to keep him. Sonny had no living parents. He could adopt him. However, he buried that notion, and didn't say anything so ridiculous. He was not married, so what would people think about that?
Joe leaned Sonny back with his head resting on the pillow. He wanted to look at him, and although it seemed crazy, he did it anyway. He liked this, and to be crazy, he would have to do it somewhere else.
He laid his naked body once more on top of Sonny's chest. Their two meaty cocks began rubbing against each other. Sonny, firm and still excited having an older man use his nude body like a whore, made him feel like a winner.
Joey sliding his dick and hairy balls against Sonny's pecker encouraged a load of teen nectar to shoot out covering both cocks. Whoa, how messy is that?
Joe rubbed their meat together using cum for lubricant. Without further playing, he lifted Sonny's sweet ass, and fucked him for the second time. It looked like Sonny was Joe's "baby" after all.
"Uh, am I hurting you?" whispered Joey in a frenzy of fucking. Hearing the sound of his balls slapping against Sonny' ass, he grunted knowing he was in charge.
"Dump it in me Pa, your boy can take it," whispered Sonny, not believing he was talking that way. However, he liked it – NO, he loved saying it.
Blown away by words, "Your boy," – felt good. Sonny thought you enjoy something, or you worry about it. He was not worried.
That evening, after supper, Slater, Jake, and Sonny took a ride into a quiet section of Yellowstone. They got off their horses and sat side by side, on giant rocks looking out over the view. Jake knew that Joe spent the afternoon with Sonny. Not every detail was part of the conversation regarding great sex. Of course, they always got around to sex.
"You have to listen to what people say and do. They are telling you who they are," quoted Jake.
"Great sex?" added Slater? "Are you saying that Joey is great sex?"
"Of course, he affected me passionately. Joe is not a Comanche, but he could be my pa. I like that idea, and the simplest explanation is knee deep in keeping it simple. I like him," explained Sonny, not quite being his old self. "Yup, I like Joe a lot."
"Liking whatever pleases you is common sense." Slater replied. "Don't read anything more into it. Great sex – hum, times are hard, that is very interesting!"
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