"The Hitch" M/M/M/M, upstairs over local bar and in the hills,
oral & anal sex
[Usual warnings apply: no one under age admitted without parent]
[or guardian, for external use only, shake well before using, ]
[slippery when wet, this end up, use no hooks, wear seat belts.]
[Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
[or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission. ]
(The ** starts emphasis [underline/italics]; * ends emphasis.)
by Felix Lance Falkon
Gettin' those sailors inter'sted was just too fuckin' easy
-- I shoulda **knowed* there was a hitch somewheres. Me and
Durango, we were in the Rawhide Saloon when those two Navy guys
came in, ev'dently visitin' to see what the real West looks
like, well away from the main road, and not findin' much
activity in a hick town like ours of an afternoon. The blond guy
-- a big-framed kid with muscles keepin' his whites stretched
tight -- led the way to the bar. The other sailor, dark-haired,
short, and built sturdy, was the one that spotted Durango and
me, and he came over soon's he got some beer.
Durango and me were in full rig -- workin' clothes for us,
but pretty new to guys who'd never seen a real cowboy outside a
movie -- ten-gallon hats, scarves, tight Levi's, boots, loud
shirts, gun-belts, the works. Durango started rifflin' through a
deck of cards, with just enough motion to catch somebody's eye
but not so expert-like as to scare 'em off. And while Durango's
usually got a pretty grim look about him, he can look friendly
when he wants. Me, I can't help lookin' sort of young and
bashful, 'specially when Durango introduced me as "my good-
lookin' pardner, Gilroy."
Anyway, the dark-haired sailor said his name was Blackie,
and he called over his big blond pal, Shawn. Those tight sailor
suits showed near every muscle on their bodies, and showed they
were damn well hung too, 'specially Shawn. We told 'em about
cowboy life, which is mostly dude-ranchin' hereabouts, with just
enough real cow-punchin' to keep our hands in. And dude ranchin'
includes servicin' gals hungry for a bit of cowboy-cock, of
which Durango and me got plenty, only this was the off-season,
with no payin' guests at the ranch right then.
Durango and me, we told the two sailors 'bout how we'd take
two gals at a time out campin' -- so's they can chaperone each
other, we'd tell 'em -- and up on Gray-Wolf Mountain, one thing
kinda leads to another, till we'd be a-fuckin' 'em side by side
on a blanket, with both of us stripped down to our boots and
Stetsons, which usually turns 'em on enough so we don't have to
do any sissy stuff like kissin', which suits me just fine. And
of course I get to watch Durango's muscles workin' while we was
fuckin', but I didn't tell the sailors **that.*
That long spike of Shawn's hardened up a bit in his pants
-- Blackie's too -- but then Durango got the conversation 'round
to poker, and pretty soon the four of us, plus a couple of
bottles, were in the upstairs bedroom where we could go at it
nice and quiet-like. Only, it turned out the sailors didn't have
all that much money, and pretty soon Blackie was broke. He
tossed in his shirt and that black tie-thing from round his
neck, next hand, and damned if he didn't win that pot. He left
his shirt off, though, showin' a real hard-muscled chest with a
little patch of black hair in the middle, and when he held
still, he looked like somethin' carved outa marble, all white
and hard and beautiful. But, like I said, I shoulda knowed there
was a hitch to it somewheres.
Shawn was the lively one, grinnin', laughin', and wigglin'
'round his big muscles in his tight white sailor-uniform. I was
hopin' he'd lose his shirt too, but he just kept on winnin',
steady, with Blackie winnin' in spurts, till **we* were flat
broke. I wanted to call it quits right then, but Durango
insisted we put up our gun-belts and guns -- nothin' in 'em but
blanks, of course -- and then we hada get the damn sailors to
quit countin' their -- Hell -- **our* money long enough to
Well, Durango won the next hand, and I won a bit more on
the one after that. Blackie picked up a pot, bluffin' with a
busted straight till me and Durango dropped out. Then two hands
later he **wasn't* bluffin', and I was down to my hat and my
shirt -- we weren't about to bet our boots no matter what --
it's a funny feelin', sittin' there with my balls and my cock
lyin' on the chair out in plain sight -- and Durango was down to
his neckerchief and his pants. Hand after that, Shawn turned
over a fistful of Aces, and then he watched with that cheerful
grin of his while me and Durango stripped.
Durango strips real good -- lean and hard, with enough bulk
to show his chest muscles under the sandy-colored fur. He had
his sun-bleached eyebrows pulled down into a scowl. He stood for
a moment, one hand sorta half-coverin' his balls and cock, which
he's got plenty of. Then he bummed a smoke off of Blackie,
actin' real cool, and then leaned back with his bare ass against
As for me, I tried to look like I was used to losin' all my
clothes, but inside I felt all shivery at sittin' there, all
naked with my prong hangin' out. My bare skin felt shivery too.
I must of showed it, too, 'cause Shawn poured me a drink and got
to talkin'. He looked me over pretty careful, which made me glad
that I got a pretty good build myself, even if I don't have any
hair on my chest. My chest muscles go across in a nice, hard
sweep; and my belly's flat with washboard ripples; and my flank
muscles make a real sharp line 'long the sides of my hips, sorta
pointin' down at my crotch.
Shawn glanced down there too, a couple-three times, which
was okay, since I'm hung pretty good. Only, he got to talkin'
'bout the gals we pronged. Durango is the real cocksman, of
course; I had my first only this year. It's fun, fuckin' like
that; and I got the 'quipment for it; but some of the gals wanta
kiss while we're fuckin', which I hate. All of a sudden, I
realized my prong was gettin' warm and excited; and when I
looked down, it was already half-hard and just about to stand up
and git counted.
Now, showin' a hard-on to a pardner is one thing, like when
me and Durango are fuckin' a couple of gals t'gether. But
gettin' stiff and horny in front of a guy you just met is
another. My face went all hot, and my mouth went dry in spite of
havin' just taken a drink, and I could feel the cold air
touchin' my whole, bare-assed body. But Shawn just grinned -- I
thought it was a laughin'-at-me grin till he patted **his*
crotch and I saw his big cock was gettin' hard too.
He said somethin' 'bout me bein' equipped with a "mighty
potent-lookin' torpedo," which made me blush even more; and I
knew I must of looked pretty fuckin' bashful, and I was glad
when Durango sat down and shuffled the cards.
There isn't much bluffin' you can do with just a Stetson
and a pair of Treys, but I did the best I could while Durango
just sat there and scowled -- he wouldn't even ante up with his
neckerchief -- but Blackie had a pair of Queens, and that wiped
me out. The sailors gathered up their money, and our money, and
our clothes -- it was the clothes they were gladdest to be
winnin'. I kinda slumped down, buck naked; and Durango's
neckerchief was gonna be hardly enough to cover his balls -- him
bein' hung like a stallion, so he wasn't gonna share it with me,
Durango, though, was thinkin' hard; and just 'fore the
sailors got to the door he growled, "Whoa there. We got
somethin' else to put up."
The two sailors stopped, and Shawn asked, "What ya got
that you can put on the table?"
I raised my head. Durango jerked his thumb at me, sayin',
"How 'bout the kid, here?"
Shawn raised one eyebrow, but he walked back to the table
real quick and put down what he was carryin'. "Yeah? You're
putting him on the table?"
"Yep. You studs git to break him in, too; he's never been
rode." I jumped up; Durango turned to me and said, real
earnest-like: "Gilroy, we just gotta do any-fuckin'-thing to
git our duds back."
I sat down real slow. We'd never live it down if it got out
that we'd been taken in a game of cards, 'specially usin' our
own deck. And with me gittin' fucked . . .
Meanwhiles, Shawn and Blackie were sittin' down and Durango
was dealin'. It was between Shawn and Durango now: Shawn put our
clothes in the pot; Durango, put in my ass. Shawn drew two;
Durango stood pat. Durango tossed in his neckerchief; Shawn
tossed a handful of money on the table. Shawn turned over a
straight, and that was it. I just stood there, kinda numb, while
the two sailors got up. Blackie still had his shirt off, and now
he kicked off his shoes and squirmed out of his pants. His balls
were big, yeah; but it was his prong -- long and thick, and
stiffenin' up for my ass -- that really caught my fuckin'
attention. I stared at that weapon, jigglin' there in front of
his marble-hard, muscular body like a spear with a red-granite
A touch on my shoulder pulled my attention away; Durango
was standin' beside me now, and damned if **he* didn't have a
hard-on too. "I'm real sorry, kid," he said. "It'll hurt lots
less if you --"
I shook my head. "Wait. We got somethin' else to put up."
Shawn stopped undressin'. Durango and Blackie stood there, hard-
cocked, starin' at me.
I pointed at Durango. "I'm puttin' up **his* ass. Deal."
I think I sounded more sure of myself than I was, but when
Durango started to object, I looked at him real hard and said,
"Durango, you said we gotta do **any*-fuckin'-thing to get our
Durango growled and sat down. I turned to Blackie, who was
wearin' his white sailor hat and nothin' else. He slowly sat
down and reached for the deck. He shuffled. The cards felt
slippery in my hands when I took 'em -- my ass and my balls felt
slippery on the chair I was sittin' in too -- but I managed to
cut without spillin' the cards. Blackie dealt. We looked,
discarded, drew. Shawn, standin' behind Blackie, looked at his
pal's hand, grinned broadly, and then slowly pulled his white
jumper up and over that broad chest of his.
I just sat there, starin' up at the blond sailor, at that
muscle-stud's big body -- wide shoulders; bulgin' biceps and
triceps, a real powerful chest with all the muscles showin'
under that tight skin of his; and a little scatter of sun-
bleached hairs settin' off the golden-brown tan of his hide. I
turned over my cards, one by one -- no way I could raise,
Durango's ass bein' all we had left -- a pair of Kings, a pair
of Jacks. Shawn just grinned all the happier and pushed his
pants down his narrow hips.
Sittin' there, I watched with my mouth open while the top
of Shawn's hips showed, and then where his stomach-muscles made
a V down into his crotch, and then a big tangle of crotch-hair
pops out -- reddish-brown rather'n blond -- with the base of a
big cock just comin' into view. I heard Durango breathin' beside
me, felt my own prong quiver; but all I saw was that big blond
stallion takin' off his clothes. The waist-band of his whites
was down to his balls -- fuckin' big ones, too -- showin' his
long, powerful thighs till I was sure his cock must go all the
way to his knees. And then, all of a sudden, his pants cleared
the tip of that pole of his.
By the time Shawn kicked his pants off, his prong was
pointin' at the ceiling, quiverin' in front of his washboard
ripple of stomach muscle. Blackie's cock, like I said, was like
a spear; but Shawn's was like iron -- satin-covered iron -- with
kind of a glow of red-hot lust comin' from the big, broad head.
For a moment there, I must of stopped breathin', watchin' that
big guy in front of me -- till I got to thinkin' of that long,
thick prong plowin' my virgin rear, and my ass-muscles squoze
down real tight.
I had to do somethin', and quick, 'specially with Shawn
watchin' me with those blue eyes of his. This time, I didn't
freeze up; 'stead, I stood up, just like gettin' fucked was
somethin' I did all the time, and walked 'round the table to
Blackie. I put out my right hand, managin' not to tremble,
touched him on the shoulder -- it was warm and muscle-hard, not
cold and marble-hard, like it looked -- and bein' too scared to
say anythin' without stutterin', I just looked at him.
Blackie glanced at Shawn, and at that enormous hard-on of
Shawn's, and then Blackie looked at me again with a slow grin a-
spreadin' across his face. Blackie laid his cards face-down real
casual-like, stood up, and put a hand on my shoulder while he
looked me over. And what he saw must of been turnin' him on,
'cause his cock, which had been droopin' a bit, stiffened up
again. He asked me if this was my first time, gettin' fucked;
and I nodded, still too scared to say anything.
Shawn moved in when he heard that, with that prong of his
lookin' even bigger when it got close enough for me to reach out
and touch it. He looked me over again, likin' what he saw -- I
mean, I got a pretty good build and real good definition -- and
then the big blond sailor said, "First time, kid? In that case,
y'oughta get your cherry popped by an experienced stud like --
Blackie's fingers clamped tight on my shoulder, and he
said, "Nix on that, Shawn. I won him fair and -- anyway, I won
And while the two naked sailors were a-glarin' at each
other, Durango came 'round the table. He scowled at Shawn's
monster meat for a second or two, and then said, "How 'bout we
cut cards and see who gets who that-a-way?"
"Fuck that idea," said Blackie. "What if Shawn here won
Shawn looked at Blackie kinda startled, and then he started
Blackie said, "Look, you go ahead and start on Durango, so
the kid can see how it's done, and then I'll get to work on him.
You got some Vaseline in your kit?"
"And the kid'll be watching?" asked Shawn, lookin' real
eager. "How 'bout it, Durango?" He ran a big hand over
Durango's shoulder and on down his back to pat him on the butt.
"Think you can handle what I got?"
Durango scowled like all fury for a moment, then slowly
nodded his head. "But if any of you breathe a fuckin' word --
and this means you too, kid -- so help me, I'll kill ya." He
strode across the room to the bed and threw himself on top of
the covers, face down.
Shawn dug a jar out of his gear and greased up his prong.
He ambled over to the bed -- his prong sorta jigglin' in front
of him, all shiny and ready to go -- but there was nothin'
casual 'bout the way he climbed aboard my naked pardner. I
couldn't help it -- I scooted over next to the bed and knelt
there, watchin' real close, and I saw that big, blond sailor
hunched over Durango, gittin' his prong into the crack between
Durango's ass-cheeks. With me and Blackie both watchin', the tip
of Shawn's cock poked and prodded a bit -- we could see the
action real good, account of the length of that prong -- and it
must of hit the target, 'cause all of a sudden, Shawn rammed an
inch or so of hard meat into Durango's butt.
Durango yelped and jerked like he'd been stabbed -- which,
come to think of it, he had. "Take it the fuck easy with that
fuck-rod," he snarled. "You almost ripped me the fuck open."
"Yeah? Well, if you don't quit squeezing the end of my
spike, you **will* get ripped, and --" Shawn glanced over at
me and grinned. "-- and the kid'll get to watch some Navy-style
Durango turned to me then, showin' a bit of worry on his
face. Shawn was watchin' me too, only he was lookin' kinda
tense, in spite of his grin. I noticed a little fuckin' motion
of the blond stud's hips, and another inch of prong slid into
Durango, who grunted and showed his teeth. Shawn grinned even
wider, and his hips kept on workin', each time rammin' in more
cock than he pulled out. It took a while -- like I said, Shawn
had a real long cock -- but Durango took all of it without a
whimper till Shawn was all the way in and their naked bodies
were locked t'gether.
I felt my own cock twitch just then. I looked down and
found that watchin' had given me about the hardest hard-on ever.
I glanced 'round and saw Shawn watchin' me with a real knowin'
grin as he pumped away on Durango. My face got all hot. I looked
away from Shawn; and there was Blackie, grinnin' too. **His*
hard-on stood up stiff and quiverin' and ready for **my* ass!
Blackie was holdin' out the Vaselene. I sorta jerked back
when I realized he wanted me to grease up his prick. He grinned
a bit -- just his mouth, not his eyes -- and said, "Unless you
want me to plug ya dry?"
I gulped hard and reached for the jar, took a scoop of the
stuff on my fingers, and slowly put my hand on Blackie's hard-
on. The hot meat twitched when I touched him. I jerked back; but
when Blackie growled, "Come on, kid, it ain't gonna **bite*
you," I touched his prong again.
It was a real weird feelin', touchin' another guy's cock
for the first time, especially one that was just about to get
stuck into **me!* I lubed him up careful, beginnin' with the
broad cap at the end and gettin' a chance to feel it push up
against my fingers. I slid my hand on down the shaft -- hot and
long and hard and gettin' even harder -- right on down to the
hilt, with my Vaselene-slick fingers just brushin' his big
balls. I pulled my hand back slow, spreadin' the slippery grease
right up to the tip. I scooped up a bit more from the jar and
rubbed it onto the cap and 'round where that mushroom head
joined Blackie's shaft. As I slid my fingers on down again to
the base of his sex, his shaft twitched every now and then. I
kept on workin' on that prong, kind of explorin' it with my
fingers, strokin' it up and down, till the naked sailor put his
hands on my shoulders and steered me to the bed.
"Whatcha trying to do, cowboy, jack me off before I can
shove my cock up your ass?" Blackie asked.
I started to tell him I'd got so interested in how his
prong felt -- but then I realized tellin' him that would only
make it worse, so I let him push me down onto the mattress. I
stretched out right next to Durango, who was squirmin' and
wigglin' hard, and Shawn, who was fuckin' Durango hard and fast.
They both kind of slowed down to watch.
I started to roll over on my stomach, but Blackie stopped
me. He grabbed my ankles, raised 'em and spread 'em, and kneeled
on the bed between 'em, with his hard-muscled body kinda arched
over me, lookin' real -- you know -- **hungry.* He hooked my
knees over his shoulders and leaned his chest against my thighs.
My ass was up in the air, and my weight was on my shoulders, and
I was lookin' up at his tight-muscled chest. He grinned down at
me, kind of tense, while his cock started pokin' my butt. The
tip hit my asshole, and I kind of gasped and went tight all
over. He waited till I started to relax, and then he jabbed
hard, and I felt his prong-tip snap past my ass-closin' muscles
and into me. I clamped down tight -- I couldn't help it -- and
Durango, lyin' right beside me, growled, **"Relax,* kid;
relax." I turned my head and watched Shawn drive his prong all
the way into my naked pardner.
Durango let out a little grunt as Shawn's thrust hit
bottom. The big blond had wrapped his powerful arms 'round
Durango's chest; and he was pumpin' hard, while Durango lay
there, squirmin' just a little, takin' Shawn's prong. They were
both watchin' me while I tried to relax **my* asshole muscles
and let Blackie in.
And whether I relaxed or not, I was gettin' spitted on that
dark-haired sailor's spike. Another inch slid into me. Startled,
I yelped again. Blackie pushed harder, slowly drivin' himself
into my guts. His prong felt like a red-hot brandin' iron. I bit
my lips to keep from yellin'. I couldn't help wrigglin' and
squirmin', but every move made that iron-hard prong jerk inside
me, and that made it worse. Only -- as the base of Blackie's
sex-spike clamped down hard onto my ass, I was startin' to feel
more'n just pain.
Blackie stayed **in* me for a long moment. He pulled back
-- it felt like about two feet of cock was bein' pulled out --
and then rammed himself all the way in again.
And -- and I couldn't help it -- I met that down-thrustin'
prong with a little up-squirm of my own. Blackie's arms were
supportin' his weight, hands on the bed on either side of my
chest. His hips pressed down hard against my up-turned ass, then
rose and drove down again, rammin' his rock-hard prong all the
way into my asshole and into **me.*
I smelled healthy man-sweat. My shoulder brushed Durango's
-- warm and hard. The bed was bouncin', what with two lusty
sailors fuckin' up a storm, and us two cowboys -- we were
gittin' fucked side by side -- wigglin' and squirmin', and
everybody pantin' and gruntin', and the bed throwin' in a squeak
every now and then. Blackie was sweatin' too, and his chest was
kinda slippery against my thighs. With every stroke, I felt his
muscles tense up tighter -- even more when I put my hands on his
arms and held on tight.
I glanced over at Shawn -- and all the time he was fuckin'
my pardner like a steam locomotive in heat, that naked sailor
was a-lookin' at me and lickin' his lips, just a little, like he
wanted to fuck me too! I looked up at the hunky stud that was
poundin' away at **my* ass. Blackie's dark eyes were aimed down
at me, and he was gittin' hot: I was seein' it in his eyes. And,
since he'd straightened up a bit, I saw his chest muscles
tighten, felt his shoulder muscles workin' 'gainst my thighs,
watched his stomach muscles suck in; and most of all, he was
pumpin' his hard cock into my guts harder and harder with every
But, in spite of the burnin' pain inside, I was gittin'
worked up too. I couldn't help it, but -- damnit -- feelin'
Blackie gittin' closer and closer was really turnin' me on,
'specially now that he was hittin' me just right, down in the
roots of my prong. I had a hard-on too, but my cock wasn't
touchin' anything but air while Blackie rammed his in and out of
He got even hotter. He rammed himself in harder and faster.
His muscles went all tight. And all the while, his brown eyes
were starin' into mine. Our bodies were linked t'gether with his
prong, poundin' in and out, in and out. A few more strokes --
one more -- and he jabbed himself in to the hilt, strainin' like
he wanted to shove his balls on in with his prong.
Blackie like to turned into a statue then, like he was
carved outa marble, with me impaled on the hardest part of him.
He blasted a shot of boilin' man-oil into my guts. He gasped. He
stabbed me again with his prong. He squirted again -- again -- a
couple of times more -- caught his breath, pulled back an inch,
rammed himself all the way in -- and somehow that hit the roots
of my own organs just right.
I jerked, went rigid too, with every muscle strainin', and
shot a jet from my throbbin' cock up into the air -- and down
into my own mouth. I was too surprised to do anything but
swallow, and without really knowin' what I was doin', I licked
the rest of my slippery ball-cream off my lips and swallowed
Blackie was relaxin', catchin' his breath, and grinnin'
down at me. Even his cock was feelin' softer inside me, with
just a couple of twitches to let me know he was pumpin' the rest
of his load into me. We just lay there for a couple of minutes,
with my ass-muscles grippin' his cock.
The bed jiggled. I looked over to see Shawn climbin' off
Durango. Evident they had come -- or at least Shawn had -- while
Blackie and me were too busy with our own fuck to notice. I
pushed with my legs, bein' pretty cramped by this time; and
Blackie pulled his cock outa my ass. It came out lots less
painful than goin' in; a good thing, what with my insides bein'
sore, as well as full of sailor-sperm.
I rolled off the bed. Not wantin' to face Blackie right
then, or Durango either, I sorta wound up next to Shawn after I
grabbed a towel. He took the towel after I finished wipin' off
my face. I watched him wipe off that big prong of his -- still
'bout three-quarters hard -- and just to break the silence I
asked, "What the fuck was Blackie holdin', last hand?"
Shawn grinned -- that quick, friendly smile of his -- and
finished cleanin' his prong 'fore he answered me. I watched that
long piece of sailor-meat begin stiffenin' again, and then
raised my head and looked into those blue eyes of his. He was
grinnin' even wider now; he'd seen what I was starin' at -- and
said, "Blackie was holding a busted straight, only you never
made him show it." He saw the expression on my face and grinned
I heard a curse from Durango and the beginnin' of an
argument from Blackie. I glanced that way. Durango was lookin'
real mean, and goin' for Blackie.
I looked back at Shawn and said. "You cock-suckin' card-
sharp! Y-you cheated!"
All of a sudden, Shawn stopped grinnin' and started lookin'
mean. "Yeah?" he growled, and grabbed me. He was bigger, and
stronger, and quicker. He had both hands holdin' me helpless
'fore I'd hit him enough to notice, and then he forced me down
on my knees.
Blackie yelled from across the room, "Shawn -- gimme a
hand -- Durango's gonna kill me!"
"Later," said the big blond. "I'm busy with the kid."
He grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head closer and closer
to his crotch and his big, hard cock. "Open up, cowboy; you're
gonna suck my cock."
I clenched my teeth; his iron-hard prong poked at my lips.
I put my hands on his thighs and tried to push myself away.
Shawn twisted my hair with one hand and put the other behind my
head. He jabbed his cock against my lips again. I opened my
mouth to yelp when he yanked on my hair again -- Shawn jerked
his hips, and all of a sudden, my mouth was full of the big
mushroom-cap on the end of Shawn's prong. He shoved more in,
pullin' my head towards him and pushin' hard with his rammer. He
pulled back, just enough to let me catch my breath, and rammed
himself in deeper. I was gettin' raped!
"Come on, kid; **suck!"* Shawn growled.
I closed my lips 'round the hard shaft. I swallowed,
swallowed again, and Shawn's meat jerked in reply. Shawn pulled
back, then smoothly drove himself in deep. Too deep -- I gagged
and almost choked before he pulled back. He slid in again. This
time I realized I was rubbin' his shaft with my tongue. I tried
to push myself back, but a warnin' growl stopped me. Shawn kept
right on pumpin'; I kept on suckin'.
"Help!" Blackie yelled. I jerked back and off Shawn's
prong, twisted 'round to see. Blackie was on the floor,
stretched out on his back, with Durango kneelin' astride his
chest, holdin' that naked sailor by the ears; and as Shawn and I
watched, Durango shoved his quiverin' hard-on straight into
"Come back here!" Shawn growled. I turned, opened my
mouth to say somethin', and saw his prong right in front of my
nose. I grabbed the base of that sex-meat with my right hand and
-- 'fore I knew what I was doin' -- I guided it right into my
I caught some real male-smell from Shawn, what with my nose
almost plowin' into the blond bush 'round the base of his shaft
and him gettin' hot again. I dunno if it was that, or knowin'
Blackie was suckin' my pardner's cock, or feelin' Shawn gittin'
close to comin' again, but sure the fuck I was turnin' on too.
Shawn was breathin' hard now, and his big muscles was a-workin'
and gittin' tense. As for me -- with my right hand tight 'round
his shaft, I didn't worry 'bout him goin' in too deep -- anyway,
I sucked harder -- and harder -- and I ran my left hand up and
down his thighs -- and on up till I touched his big, hot balls.
When I did that, Shawn kinda sighed and pushed himself down
against my ball-holdin' left hand; and when he did **that,* I
started to get hot too. And that must of got to him, 'cause he
was pumpin' harder, and I was suckin' harder. His spike jerked
and jerked inside my mouth. I couldn't stop; he couldn't either.
His cock tasted salty and kinda bitter, all of a sudden, and it
felt all slippery -- and I realized I was swallowin' more than
just my own spit, but I kept on a-suckin' and a-swallerin' till
Shawn slowly pushed me off his prong.
I sat back on my heels and looked up at Shawn, looked up at
that beautiful body of his -- no statue, but alive all over --
all muscular and naked -- big strong thighs and still-hard prong
and flat, rippled belly and broad chest and heavy shoulders --
and a real satisfied grin on his face.
"Hi, there, cocksucker," said the naked sailor.
I ran my tongue along teeth, swallowed again -- and
suddenly realized I'd gulped down his whole fuckin' load. I
jumped up, all mad again, and I woulda hit him again if he
hadn't jumped back.
"Hey -- Blackie -- grab this wildcat, will ya?" Shawn
"Grab him yourself," Blackie said. "You had your fun
while I was getting raped."
I turned. Blackie and Durango were on their feet now, and
Blackie was tryin' to spit, only he must of swallowed Durango's
ball-juice, just like I'd just taken Shawn's.
"You sleazy card-sharp," Durango growled at Shawn.
"Usual-like, we string up side-winders like you with a rope
tied 'round your balls -- you'd make a right purty decoration,
hangin' from the ceiling in the saloon. We'll find out how high
you'll squeal, too."
"You and who else," said Shawn with a laugh. "If you
think you scruffy cow-hands can take the two of us --"
"Whadya mean, **us?"* asked Blackie. "You had your fun
while I was getting raped -- come on, guys, let's get the
Shawn put up a good fight, considerin' it was three against
one, and he hit me a good one in the side 'fore he was down with
the three of us on top of him.
"Now what?" asked Blackie. "You aren't really gonna
string him up by the balls, are you?"
" 'Tain't **that* painful," said Durango, slowly. "Cow-
poke named Tumbleweed, he let us do it to him on a dare. 'Course
he's hung real thick, and the rest of him is pretty light. But I
got a better idea. Let's put this stud on the bed first."
Shawn almost broke loose then, but we got him on the bed. I
knelt on his shoulders; Blackie and Durango each held one leg
down. When the blond sailor stopped strugglin' to catch his
breath, Durango handed me the Vaselene jar.
I just sat there, stunned, for a couple-three seconds while
my prong came up in a quick surge. I took the jar, stared down
at the powerfully muscled, sweat-gleamin' body lyin' on the bed,
and then I slicked up my prong. Shawn jerked his head up and
stared at me. He stared few seconds too long; when he started to
buck -- like an unbroke colt -- I was already ridin' his back,
with my arms locked 'round his big chest and my prong tryin' to
find its target. Now, it's damn-near impossible to spike an ass
that's squirmin' and buckin' that hard, so I just hung on till
he ran outa breath, and then I stabbed him with my prong.
Soon's the head of my cock snapped past the muscle-ring of
his ass, he started buckin' again. But every squirm and wiggle
got me in deeper -- it was like dippin' my prong into liquid
fire, he was so hot and tight inside -- and I've stayed on
horses that bucked worse'n he did. My arms held his chest tight,
with my fingers diggin' into his chest-muscles, my legs twined
along his legs, and with him buckin' and my hips pumpin', my
prong and his ass were gittin' a workout. The muscles inside his
ass were workin' on me too, squeezin' and relaxin' and
squeezin', again and again.
And after a few strokes of my prong, Shawn didn't seem to
be tryin' to get away. Blackie and Durango let go, leavin' me to
ride that sailor-stallion by myself. I was hot -- real hot: the
fire I'd dipped my prong into had turned on my nuts, and I was
comin' to a boil.
I pumped harder. Shawn matched every jab of my spike with a
twist and squirm of his sweat-slick, muscle-plated body. He
panted, "Come on, kid. Ride me; ride me hard! Fuck me harder --
fuck!!" Inside his butt, my cock was hard, all tight and hot
and full, down in the roots -- ready to erupt. I pumped harder;
the blond sailor squirmed and wiggled and squeezed -- till I
exploded, body clamped onto Shawn's back, cock rammed in to the
hilt, jettin' hot sperm into the big body squirmin' in my arms,
and under my chest and hips, and real tight 'round my prong.
Spent, I started to get up, but Shawn whispered, "Don't,"
so I settled down again. I looked up, and saw Durango and
Blackie were standin' by the bed, watchin' us, their cocks up
and hard. After a couple of wise-ass remarks 'bout virgins and
bronco-bustin', they went over to the pile of clothes.
Durango grabbed his pants; Blackie claimed they were his,
bein' won fair and square before that last hand. They were near
ready for another fight when Shawn -- with me still mounted on
his back and my prong all the way in him -- propped himself up
on his elbows and made a proposition: he was hot for some
cowboy-style campin' and fuckin', and Blackie admitted he was
too. And since they didn't really have a place to keep cowboy
clothes 'board ship . . . so, we struck a deal. Me and Blackie,
we both got warned we'd get kilt if we ever breathed a word
about Durango and Shawn gettin' fucked, and then we all pulled
our clothes back on.
# # #
When we got back to the ranch, the four of us picked up
grub and bed-rolls and stuff. Then we all piled into Durango's
Jeep and headed for Gray-Wolf Mountain. Soon's we were off the
road and on the trail, Shawn suggested we all strip down.
Durango and me, we took off everythin' 'cept our Stetsons and
boots and gun-belts; and Shawn and Blackie peeled down to their
white sailor-hats and some work-boots we'd lent them; and the
four of us rode the rest of the way like that, with the wind on
our bare arms and chests, and our balls kinda bouncin' on the
seats, and our prongs half-way up or better, dependin' on where
the conversation was goin'. We pitched camp in our usual spot,
'longside of a little spring with a natural pool that's full
this time of year, spread out our bed-rolls, and went at it.
Startin' out, I climbed onto Blackie and slid my prong all
the way in, while Durango did the same to Shawn. After we fucked
the sailors for a spell, we swapped 'round, Blackie's prong in
my ass and Shawn riding Durango, and fucked some more -- takin'
it easy, and stoppin' afore we came so's we could cool down.
Then we traded partners, me with Shawn, Durango with Blackie,
and fucked some more.
I was on my back, with big blond Shawn fucking me, when he
asked me what it was like, fuckin' his shipmate, Blackie. I
asked Shawn, "Haven't you ever rode him?"
He shook his head and kinda licked his lips, and then he
asked me, "How about you and your pardner, Durango?"
"We seen each other naked, showerin' and goin' to bed;
and we seen each other with hardons gettin up in the mornin' and
whenever we brought a couple gals up here, stripped down, and
fucked 'em, with me mounted on my gal right next to Durango and
the gal he was ridin'. But doin' more'n that, no. At least --"
"-- not yet?" Shawn licked his lips again. He humped me a
couple more strokes, and then he turned to Blackie, who was
ridin' Durango, and said, "Wanta try?"
Blackie and Durango, they thought about it for a spell --
while Shawn kept on fuckin' me real slow and Blackie doin' the
same to Durango, all of us bein' careful not to shoot our loads.
Then I asked Blackie, " 'Fraid Shawn's too big for you?"
Blackie said, "Kid, if **you* can take him, **I* sure the
fuck can," and he climbed off Durango, rolled onto his back,
and spread his legs good and wide.
Shawn unplugged himself from my ass and mounted Blackie.
Durango and I watched Shawn slide his prong all the way into his
shipmate, and then we looked at each other. Durango said, "Kid,
if you ever breathe a fuckin' word . . ." I told him I was more
scared of word gittin' out than he was, so he stretched out on
his back real close to those naked sailors, and I climbed on and
plugged myself in.
That was kinda weird, slidin' my prong into my pardner,
watchin' his face as I fucked him, feelin' his naked body squirm
under mine every time I drove my prong hilt-deep into his ass.
It wasn't quite the same as fuckin' one of the sailors we'd just
met -- just as sexy, but different, somehow. Shawn asked, "How
I said, "It's -- you know -- weird -- you know -- like
this, goin' into my own pardner."
Shawn kind of chuckled, and said, "Yeah -- I know what you
mean. Riding my shipmate here, finding out how . . ."
". . . how good a fuck I am?" Blackie growled. "And?"
"Damn good," said Shawn, and grinned suddenly. "You're
**real* damn good."
"Yeah?" asked Blackie. "Then let me check **you* out
before we unload."
So Shawn pulled his prong outa Blackie and stretched out on
his back, and I pulled my prong outa Durango and stretched out
on **my* back. Me and Durango watched Blackie mount Shawn; and
then Durango climbed onto -- and rammed himself into -- me.
We swapped 'round a few more times, sailor-sailor and
cowboy-cowboy, sailor-cowboy and cowboy-sailor. Eventually, we
shot our loads into each others' asses; and after that, we
rested a spell. We stripped off our boots and belts and stuff,
which we'd been wearin' while we fucked; and then we hit the
pool to wash off. Later, we had supper, with the firelight kinda
dancin' over our naked hides, makin' us look real sexy, and spun
a mess of tall tales, mostly, by Blackie or Durango, but me and
Shawn, we tossed in a few. Pretty soon, we got 'round to sex,
and our prongs began to stiffen up again.
This time, we sucked cock, startin' with Blackie takin' me
while Durango was a-workin' on Shawn, and swappin' 'round a few
times, doin' sixty-nines, suckin' and bein' sucked, with me
havin' to split my attention 'tween what I was doin' to one
prong -- suckin' it and rubbin' it with my tongue and movin' my
head back and forth and side to side, and all the while keepin'
from scrapin' it with my teeth or lettin' it git so deep it'd
choke me -- and what was happenin' to **my* prong -- feelin' it
bein' sucked on by a hungry mouth, feelin' teeth touchin' me now
and then, just like somebody was gettin' ready to bite in and
start chewin', eatin' me for real.
Blackie suggested a four-way circle-suck -- me workin' on
Shawn's big prong -- Blackie suckin' on mine -- and Durango
completin' the loop. By then, we were ready to go all the way,
so we did: Shawn fed me his cream while I fed Blackie mine, and
I could feel Blackie quiverin' all over, and realized that he
was shootin' his load into Durango and tryin' not to bite down
on my prong -- which made me shoot the rest of my cream into
Blackie's mouth all the harder.
And after **that,* we all sacked out. Me and Shawn slid
into one bedroll; Durango and Blackie into the other.
# # #
I woke a few hours later. The moon was high, and Durango
was stokin' the campfire. He stood, and I saw his prong was
stiff and kinda glowin' in the firelight. He moseyed back to the
bedroll, where Blackie lay on his back. I felt my own prong
harden while I watched Durango kneel and lean forward, watched
Blackie hook his knees over Durango's shoulders, watched Durango
ease his cock into the naked, dark-haired sailor and start
Shawn stirred beside me; I realized he'd been watchin' too.
I felt his hand slide down my naked flank to touch my shaft.
"Ready?" he asked.
"I need --" I felt him shift away, then back.
"Here." Shawn's hand -- cool and slippery -- touched my
shaft again, quickly greased it from tip to base.
Shawn shifted again. His arms now slid 'round my shoulders
and rolled me onto his naked body so we lay face to face. He
spread his thighs wide, raised them up, clamped his legs 'round
my waist while I thrust with my hips and poked his ass with my
shaft. Shawn's hand guided me into place; the end of my shaft
touched the openin', and I pushed the tip into him. As I eased
another inch of hard meat into Shawn, he shifted his arms to
wrap 'em 'round my chest, pullin' us t'gether in a squirmin'
hug. I felt his muscular legs lock our bodies t'gether, felt his
thick, hard chest-muscles against my own, felt his prong -- by
now as hard as mine -- trapped between our lean, taut bellies.
As I eased my shaft deeper into Shawn, I put my hands on
his powerful shoulders, stroked his sides, gripped his shoulders
"Ready for some more bronco-busting, kid?" asked the big
"Whatever it takes," I said, pullin' my shaft back an
inch then pushin' it in a little more'n that -- back another
inch -- then on in, deeper and deeper with each stroke, till I
was hilt-deep into the sea-stallion and my balls were tight
against his ass and his ass-muscles were clamped hard around the
base of my prong and inside -- inside Shawn, he was hot and soft
and slippery and tight.
"Kid, you really go in deep," he sighed.
"You like?" I asked him, startin' a slow, easy stroke.
"I like," Shawn responded to each impalin' stroke with an
upward thrust of his own lean hips. He shifted his right arm,
slid his right hand behind my head, pullin' it down. He raised
his own head. I tried to dodge, but he was too quick, too
strong, and our lips met in a long, wet, smoochin' kiss.
Like I said, I shoulda **knowed* there was a hitch to it
[Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
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