Restless Kid by Jake Falcon
This story takes place in the mid 1880s and comes entirely from my own imagination, some of the names that might be mentioned are for reference to the time period only and have no relation to the characters in any shape form or fashion. This story may or may not contain sex between to men.
Following the capture of the entire Burnett gang and subsequent release to the Marshall out of Arizona the Restless Kid just turned 18 hit the trail for Denver Colorado following the trail taken by Cookie & the Chuck Wagon. The long scorching days of Summer were becoming shorter and tinged with a hint of Fall, the Kid made haste to catch up with cookie & the chuck wagon. Ridin trail with no company other than your six guns, rifle, saddle blanket and horse for company is lonely business and the kid hoped to catch up with cookie so the trail would be a little less lonely, not to mention the fact that cookie had a repetition of being a first class cook.
The Kid also had another reason for wanting to catch up with cookie, though not known about it by any of the men on the Wagon Train, and discovered only by accident by the Kid in the Bathhouse cookie was berdache which the Kid hoped to take full advantage of, something the Kid thought about since catching cookie unawares in the Bathhouse with a cute young Mexican lad. A good horse could average between 21 and 31 miles a day and the Kid was definitely ridin one of the best of em. But being more than a week out catchin up with cookie was gonna take some doing.
Days of hard riding and early evening found the Kid just outside the camp site sit up by cookie. Savory odors of Coffee, Venison stew, sour dough biscuits and apple pie filled the air causing the Kid's stomach to growl and reminding him of just how much he missed cookie's touch with trail fare. You in the camp called out the Kid, its me The Kid alright to come in. Come on in called out cookie, been expectin ya for a few days now, caught wind of ya bout two days back. How'd you know it was me. I didn't, just knew someone was ridin my trail, whenever the wind changed. Tie your horse off with the team and feed and water him and supper'll be ready by the time your finished.
Late evening had fallen when the two men ate supper during which the Kid relayed the news about the Burnett gang and in passing made mention of being in the Bathhouse and how a certain Mexican lad was willing for a few pesos. Cookie made a mental note of the sizeable bulge already obvious in the Kids jeans, nor did the Kid fail to notice though gave no appearance he had. The stew was delicious as was the sour dough biscuits and apple pie and washed down with scalding hot coffee, laced with a generous shot of liqueur. Kid it'll be rainin fore mornin, be best if you bedded down with me in the wagon. How can you tell, there's not a cloud in the sky. Kid your good with them six shooters and your dukes, but you don't shit about tellin what the weather's gonna do. Trust me it'll be a rip roarin storm before mornin.
The Kid snuggled up tight against Cookie in the wagon, his cock throbbing hard against Cookies back. Cookie I know your berdache I saw you and that cute little Mexican lad in the bathhouse, wasn't meanin to spy on ya or anything....It was an accident, those bathhouse walls have cracks and the locks on the doors are old and worn out. Come on Cookie suck me off, that's one of the main reasons why I wanted to catch up with you.
So Cookie turned over and scooted down in the middle of the bed, the Kid was hot as the inside of a stove and as hard as a rock. A good nine to ten inch's of hot young man meat and Cookie was ravenous, devouring all of the tangy headcheese built up under the Kids generous foreskin, licking and tonguing all around the mushroomed shaped head and dipping his tongue into the wide piss slit. Briefly pulling off, Cookie said Kid if you ever breath a word of this to anyone, as slow as I am and as fast as you are, I'll call you out to draw. Not me Cookie, replied the Kid, code of the trail what's said and done on the trail, stay's on the trail, how much of it can you take. Cookie then opened the back of his throat and swallowed all ten inch's causing a deep groan of pleasure to escape from the Kid. Backing off Cookie swirled his tongue expertly around the bulbous head and licking highly sensitive underside. Sensing the Kid about to unload Cookie backed off in order to string it out as long as possible. The Kid however was impatient and held Cookies head and slid the whole 10 inch's down Cookies throat and shot off 9 strong ropes of cum which Cookie swallowed and savored every single drop the Kid could pump out.
In the wee, wee hours of the morning the storm broke with all of the fury cookie had said it would, pounding rain, driving wind and thunder & lighting that shook the very ground the wagon was lashed down to. The chuckwagon trembled and violently shook with each clap of thunder and threatened to pull loose from the moorings. Cookie had done well though in lashing the wagon to the ground with double ropes, front and rear and the ropes held strong.
Possibly to be continued.