"Stagecoach to Laramie"
Part 7
Jake and wrangler Joe walked back to where Slater was waiting. Sonny had secured Joe's belongings, to the top of the coach; they were now ready to continue on to Laramie. Slater and Sonny rode on top, driving the team, and Jake stayed inside with Joe.
They (Jake and Joe) sat across from one another. They each had a window making the trip a little more pleasant.
The stagecoach ride seemed bumpier than usual. It was the same stage route coming and going. Every so often Slater would hit a hole in the road, and the blanket would part exposing Joe's pecker over a fur patch of frisky balls. Jake saw the sleeping baby maker do a flip, each time.
Joe had the blanket tied around his waist with his upper body still naked. Jake fascinated with his hairy chest stared, trying at first, to be coy about it.
Staring was something Jake was especially good at doing. At least he thought he was clever and discrete. He could not control passion for men very well at all, and it showed in his eyes.
Other cowboys, from nearby ranches, wouldn't notice since they cared nothing about Jake what so ever. These ranch hands admired horses and women, yet, not all women, with so many pussy snappers, being whores and gold diggers. However, a good horse was a cowboy's best dependable companion. Somebody like Jake was just another dude.
Joe figured that a young cowboy watching his pecker move was harmless. They were wranglers, not homos, and men often look at other men.
Jake, forward and never bashful, with somebody like Joe, would get hot moving around and thinking dirty. His thoughts were nothing more than a voice in the wind; that is, until he acted on what he was thinking.
"We should live in the `now,' don't you think?" Jake asked, testing the waters with Joe.
Joe, was not following what Jake was trying to say, so he replied the best way he could, without sounding stupid. It was a dumb question.
"I don't see where we have a choice. It's a well-known truth, - "Now is now!" said Joe.
"Not everybody thinks like me," replied Jake.
"Good or bad grab some of each; of course, good is better. I cannot follow what we are talking about anyway, confessed Joe, leaning back to be comfortable.
"You're right – I'll be quiet."
"Don't get riled at me, I do not understand, what you are driving at – or maybe I do." Joe quietly replied.
The more the coach jolted, the bigger Joe's cock looked to Jake. He was becoming aroused from the bumpy ride. This picture was a dog looking at a bone. The coach hit another hole in the road and on cue, the blanket separated again. Jake switched places and moved to sit next to Joe.
Before Joe could pull the blanket shut again, Jake's hand went around Joe's pecker, now growing to attention. His cock was amazingly big boy meat.
"What the fuck, you doing?" he barked at Jake.
"Í want to hold it."
"Are you queer? – I don't do homo shit."
"I'm only holding it. Cowboys do that with other cowboys, all the time. Little boys play pecker swap, with each other all the time."
"I'm not a little boy. I'm forty years old. Take your hand out of my crotch."
"Don't get all ugly now, it is only my hand."
"I'm not mad, okay strokes it." Joe agreed opening the blanket wide letting Jake play with his cock. He leaned back for a second realizing how good somebody's hand felt, but wouldn't admit it.
"You wranglers have done much for me, but that's it; you got our feel." Joe mumbled.
"How about one lick," asked Jake, now playing with him?
"No"
"Why?"
"A good looking wrangler like you can get anything you want. Why are you bothering with me? Dang, I am old enough to be your pa. You are twenty-six and I am forty. Get real man."
"That is a dumb answer. It is only a lick," replied Jake, moving back to his original seat away from Joe. There was no animosity between them. They each smiled at one another, they were friends.
******** The stagecoach was a mile from Laramie, and Joe's clothes were dry ready to put back on. Sonny jumped down from the driver's seat and handed the clothes through the window to Joe.
Jake stepped out of the coach while Joe got dressed. Then Joe joined the three of them standing outside, next to the coach.
"Joe, you will need some cash for lodging and food. Don't sleep in the stable lying in horse shit when we get into Laramie," Slater directed.
It wasn't any of his business, but he liked Joe, and Slater always had something to say.
"Here, let me do it," interrupted Jake, handing Joe a twenty dollar gold piece. It was for holdover money until he found a job. Twenty dollars was a healthy sum. The average wage for a cowboy, at the time, was around $35.00 to $40.00 dollars a month.
"I can't take that, I already owe everybody so much; no, hell no. I can't accept that. I'll make out, I always do," Joe added.
"We saw how you make out. I am part Comanche, and I understand everything. Take the dang money – take it," insisted Sonny.
"What are you hombres rich?"
"We have each other, which is being rich." Sonny replied.
"By the way Joe - It's fourteen," babbled Jake, making a statement.
"What are you talking about? What's fourteen?" Joe asked.
"The difference between twenty-six and forty, pa." giggled Jake putting his arm around Joe's shoulder. "Fourteen years is the difference."
Joe grinned like a hyena and to everybody's surprise; he hugged Jake, firm and tight. "You little copper-head" we really should talk about that," he whispered. `Yep, I could handle fourteen years difference, I suppose."
"I would like that." Jake quietly replied locking glances with Joe. There goes the eye magic again.
I'm telling the truth. Joe was a changed cowboy, clean and happy once again. Slater, Jake, and Sonny were friends, now there was Joe, and everybody knew it. There was no denying the chemistry, with better things to come.
At last, Laramie was the next and final stop, of this unforeseen journey. Joe stayed on top, next to Slater driving, with Jake and Sonny inside the coach.
Laramie was just ahead. Slater drove slowly into town avoiding attention. He stopped at his pa's mercantile and everybody got out, back at last.
Joe waited for Jake; they spoke for only a few seconds. "I don't know much, but I know what you want," he told Jake.
"We should do something about that," Jake replied.
"I'm game," was Joe's only reply.
Slater drove the stagecoach back to the depot, then returned to the store giving the money for the goods, to his pa. It was a job well done.
Jake and Sonny retrieved their horses from the livery stable, and headed back to the farm.
Joseph walked down the street disappearing in the hordes of people in front of the saloon. The stagecoach ride, Laramie to Cheyenne for now, was over.
To continue –
As a reminder - You, the reader, is needed to keep stories coming your way. Imagine the sadness, if gay stories written, so thousands can read them, but there was no Nifty to bring them to you. Pitch in if you can. As Dolly Parton once said, – "Yuh all come back now!" https://donate.nifty.org/