"SABER & SUCTION" M/M, o&a, reluctant, outdoors

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[or guardian, for external use only, this end up, slippery when]
[wet, this end up, watch for falling rocks and fallen women. ]
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[Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
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SABER & SUCTION

by Felix Lance Falkon


When Zack finished stripping the cavalry trooper's uniform
from his well-muscled body, he stood up, stretched, and let the
warm breeze ruffle over his naked hide. Around him, the prairie
was empty, with just the wind in the grass and the bark of a
prairie dog to break the stillness. Except for his captive, a
powerfully built Apache brave now tied to a dead tree trunk a
few yards away, Zack was alone. Zack glanced down at himself.
Stripped, his physique was impressive, but compared to the
Indian's . . .

Zack bent over his clothing. **Boots? Yes,* he told himself,
**and the Sam Browne belt. Gloves* -- the heavy troopers'
gauntlets that reached almost to his elbows -- **definitely.* He
slipped them on. He searched for a moment for his hat, realized
he still had it on his blond head.

The cavalry trooper looked down at himself again. **Yes, I
do look good like this, naked, but for the leather.* His cock was
rising, too, towards a virile erection. Zack bent down one more
time, seized his saber, and drew it from its scabbard. Then, with
the comforting weight of cold steel in his gauntleted right hand,
he strode to the Indian.

The Apache watched Zack's approach impassively; his dark-
eyed gaze slid down Zack's torso, paused at Zack's hardening
shaft, then flicked up, to meet the trooper's own gaze. Zack
studied the Apache's body with a slow survey of his own; his
captive was completely naked, but for a scarlet band around his
head, confining his black hair, and a battered feather rising
from the back of his head. Zack, out on patrol, had found the
Apache sleeping, knocked him out, then secured him by wrists and
ankles to that tree; he was, for all the swelling power of that
muscular body, at Zack's mercy.

"Okay, you mangy, flea-bitten savage," snarled Zack, "you
got any damn heathen prayers you want to say a-fore I turn you
inta a pile of coyote meat?"

"Ugh."

"Is that all you got to fucking say for yourself, red-skin?"
Zack slapped his saber against the palm of his left hand. "You'll
sing another tune when I get started on you."

The Apache brave raised his eyebrows; Zack thought he saw
the beginning of a smile on the Apache's face. "Know little dog,
ar! -- ar! -- ar! -- ar! Much noise, no bite?"

"You calling me a son of a bitch?" Zack moved a pace closer
to the muscular Apache. With his left hand, Zack grabbed the
Apache's long, thick cock, which promptly started to stiffen in
Zack's grip. The naked trooper glanced down; even now, the
Apache's cock was longer than Zack's own fully erected organ.
Zack tightened his grip on the swelling shaft while he carefully
aimed the tip of his saber at the Apache's broad glans and eased
a half inch of cold steel into the hole at the tip.

Zack glanced up; the Apache was watching intently, more
fascinated than afraid of what was happening to his sturdy cock.
"Well?" he snapped.

"Much noise, much noise, then bite." The Apache frowned.
"Not Apache way."

"What the Billy-blue blazes has that got to do with this
saber getting rammed up your cock, red-skin?"

"Here, Apache country."

"But . . ." Zack carefully pulled the tip of his saber from
the big buck's cock. "All right, then, what is the red-skin way?
And no tall fucking tales; I want to hear what **really* happened
to those trappers and their Arapahoe guide you red-skins carried
off last month."

"I tell truth, Yellow-Hair. We treat them Apache way: Talk
soft. Not shout. Praise bravery. Give water to drink."

"But . . ."

"We take off what we wear. Then we say they take off what
they wear. When all naked, we cook food, give food to captives,
all talk soft around little cook-fires. . . ."

"A-ha! And then you make 'em . . ."

The Apache shrugged his powerful shoulders. "One time, one
way; other time, other way. This time, Arapahoe guide sit down,
put his . . ." The Apache nodded downward, jerked his hips
suggestively.

"Uh, his cock? His balls?"

"Cock and balls, yes. He say, he show trappers how Arapahoe
cook food. One trapper say he try too." The muscular Apache
smiled. "Each try show he braver. Trapper try little fire, kill
fire with -- um -- balls?"

"Balls." Zack patted his own.

"He build a bigger fire. That one was too big, his fur go
`whoosh' and burn up. He laugh, everybody laugh. Build right size
fire, sit down, cook balls and cock. Other two trappers, they
say, balls taste better not cooked --"

"Raw?"

"Raw. Then I pull out skinning knife. Arapahoe who is
cooking his own balls, he say knife spoil taste, say to use
teeth. Trappers with raw balls say --"

"All right, all **right.* Just now, I want to try something
different." Zack glanced down; both his and the big Apache's
shafts were up and hard. He turned away, took a couple of paces
away, turned again. "So. Now I'll try red-skin style."

Zack took a deep breath, tried not to grin. "O hail, noble
red-skin warrior, den-- uh -- denizen of the rolling plains. Thou
art mine captive, O noble and naked savage. . . . How's that?"

"Good. Many long words . . ."

"Read 'em in a book somewhere. Uh, what in blazes can I call
you? I can't keep saying `noble warrior'."

"Name?" He said a couple of Apache words, looked down, and
twitched his sturdy cock.

"Oh, you mean . . ." Zack laughed aloud, then quieted under
the Apache's disapproving frown. "How about I call you Long-Horn?
All right. Where were we?" He moved a pace closer, another, put
his left hand on Long-Horn's right shoulder.

"I hail thee, O Long-Horn of the mighty shoulders and great
thews." Zack slowly let his gauntleted hand slide down the buck's
superbly muscled torso. He carefully cupped the great balls in
his hand, shifted his grip to Long-Horn's virile shaft, and said,
"Boy, you are a mighty well-equipped stud." Carefully, Zack
guided the tip of his saber to Long-Horn's cock-tip and slid a
half inch of cold steel into his glans. "There. Want it quick,
slice your cock open in one quick jab?"

"Yellow-Hair do too quick, not hurt. I say, do slow and
Long-Horn feel it go in, little bit, little more, . . ."

Their eyes met; Long-Horn pulled his eyebrows down into a
scowl. Zack eased more steel into the Apaches's cock; now almost
an inch of saber impaled his hard meat.

Zack said carefully, "Maybe -- maybe there's something you'd
do, instead of . . ."

"Gather wood, make small fire?"

"Not exactly." Zack glanced down at his own cock, jutting
stiffly from his naked body, then up to meet Long-Horn's gaze
again. "Well?"

"Not beg."

"You damned, stubborn, obstinate -- oh, never mind."

"Not beg, but ..."

"You mean, you might -- what?"

"Yellow-Hair say."

"Me say? Who's running this -- oh, all right, all right."
Zack care-fully withdrew the saber and grounded the point. "You
suck me off. Suck my cock, suck till I come, take me all the way.
Deal?"

The brave stared at Zack, dropped his gaze to Zack's hard
shaft, then scanned up Zack's naked torso to stare into Zack's
eyes. "Afterward, Yellow-Hair call Long-Horn a sucker of cock.
No." He shook his head firmly.

"Now, look . . ." Zack took a deep breath, mentally grabbed
for his temper and held on tight. "Look, O magnificently muscular
Long-Horn, I am not going to call you a cocksucker. Never. I
promise, so help me."

"White man speak with forked --"

"I do fucking not!" He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it
at Long-Horn. "See?" Zack saw Long-Horn look startled, then try
to suppress a grin. Zack grinned back, and suddenly both naked,
hard-cocked men were laughing.

"All right," said the big buck. "Yellow-Hair suck Long-Horn.
Then . . ."

Zack froze, suddenly motionless. He breathed again, slowly.
The blond trooper looked down at Long-Horn's splendid, outthrust
shaft. It was a tempting mouthful, but -- Zack licked his lips
slowly. He glanced up guiltily to see if Long-Horn had seen the
motion. He must have: the naked Apache grinned, then slowly
licked his own lips.

"Want us both to suck cock, so we won't tell on each other?"
Zack asked. "All right, red-skin. I cut you loose. I suck your
cock. You suck my cock. No tricks, no forked tongues. Deal?"

"Yellow-Hair suck first? Long-Horn like --"

"I suck first," interrupted Zack, firmly.

"But --"

"Come on, stud," growled the trooper, "who's running this
deal, anyway? Besides, you'll be getting a lot better job done on
yours; I suck better when I'm still up and hard. Well?"

Long-Horn nodded slowly. Zack stepped behind his prisoner
and began cutting through the ropes. As Zack loosed him, Long-
Horn said, "So: Yellow-Hair cut me loose. Yellow-Hair suck my
prong. Afterward, I suck Yellow-Hair. Then, Yellow-Hair use long
knife on my prong?"

"For the love of Mike! You mean you **like* the fucking
notion of getting cold steel shoved up your cock and into your
guts?"

Long-Horn slowly rubbed his wrists while Zack freed his
ankles. "No like. Long knife too sharp. Go in too quick. No time
to act brave." He shook his head, made a gesture of rejection.

"Don't worry, then. I won't use this on ya." Zack put his
left hand on the Apache's thick cock, squeezed gently. "With all
that meat on th' hoof . . ." He looked at the stiff shaft a
moment, then looked up quickly enough to catch a smile on Long-
Horn's face. "All right, all right, let's get started."

Long-Horn smoothly, almost gracefully lowered himself to the
grass and lay back, his proud cock standing stiffly erect. Zack
knelt at the Apache's feet, laid his saber aside, and stretched
out on top of Long-Horn's powerful legs. He looked down at the
Apache's shaft for a moment, then steadied it with one hand and
lowered his lips onto the velvety cock-tip. He licked the warm,
firm flesh; nibbled gently; slid down the barrel until his mouth
was full of throbbing cock; then slowly raised his head again.
Zack looked up, up along the buck's splendidly muscled torso, up
to see Long-Horn had propped himself up on his elbows for a
better view of the action. They stared into each other's eyes for
a moment.

"After-- afterward," said Long-Horn. "Build small fire?
Slow, plenty hurt. Show off Apache way. You like?"

Zack shuddered, shook his head. He dropped down onto the
waiting cock, slid up and down the throbbing length several
times, and came up for air again. With gauntleted hands, he
tightened his grip on Long-Horn's narrow hips, dug booted toes
into the ground, then slid his naked torso an inch higher up on
Long-Horn's powerful thighs.

"Not first time, suck cock?"

Zack shook his head. "That good?"

Long-Horn's eyebrows jumped. He grinned. "Suck good." His
smile faded. "Afterward, Yellow-Hair take small pan, put water,
over small fire, cook my balls and cock pale-face way? Maybe
taste plenty good?"

"But --"

"Long-Horn hear a other way." The Indian's cock throbbed in
front of Zack's nose; the blond trooper went down on it again as
Long-Horn explained. "Feed cock and balls to fire-sting ants."

Zack worked on the hard meat for a dozen strokes before
lifting his head and meeting Long-Horn's gaze again. "You mean,
you make a fellow just -- just sit there and let the ants take
his balls and everything?"

The naked buck shook his head. "Not see. Only hear story. No
fire-sting ant here. Many days' ride south. First make big hole
near fire-ant nest, then stand in hole, fill hole up, balls lie
on ground, ants come and eat. All right?"

"Uh -- you mean you bury a fellow in the ground up to his
crotch, so he can't get away?"

"Not Apaches here. Apaches in south where fire-sting ants
live. Here, Apaches not have fire-sting ant. Plains ant, not
sting, not eat balls and cock."

"But these red-skins down Mexico way, or where ever it is, do
they dig their captives in and so on."

Long-Horn nodded. "Make blood trail, ant nest to balls. Ants
follow trail, then eat balls and cock."

"Does it take long -- for the ants to eat -- to eat a man's
whole works?"

"Takes one hand of days, maybe more. Braves who caught him
some every day, bring food for -- what is word? -- captive to eat
while ants eat him."

"Ummmm." Zack went down the quivering shaft. He worked
carefully; Long-Horn was close, very close now. "Hey," he said,
raising his head. "How about a hornets' nest? I've seen 'em in
the trees down by the river."

Long-Horn's tense face relaxed to a thoughtful frown. "Not
good, not bad."

"Kind of so-so?" asked Zack. He began to nibble gently at
the Apache's firm glans.

"Yellow-Hair say. But flying sting, he more quick than fire-
sting ants, more pain than sticking long knife into cock. Not
easy. Must do very careful."

"You've tried -- or seen somebody tortured with the flying
sting?" Zack asked in a pause between nibbles. "I'd think the
hardest thing would be to get a fellow to get his cock stiff
enough to ram into the nest."

"That not bad part. Catch three long-knife pale-face --"

"Huh?" Zack looked up. "Cavalry troopers?"

"Two seasons back."

Zack settled down onto the quivering prong while Long-Horn
talked on: "We catch three long-knife pale-face soldiers. Take
clothes, make naked. Owl-Running find flying-sting wigwam, put
mud on door-hole, bring down from tree. Ask if long-knife want to
cook balls on small fire, or want to push cock in flying-sting
wigwam. Mad-Bear say Red-Hair long-knife good for flying sting,
have plenty big cock.

"Long-Horn make own cock hard, put along cock of red-hair
long-knife. Long-knife with red hair make cock hard; Owl-Running
give flying-sting wigwam to red-hair. Red-Hair take big breath,
stab cock in flying-sting wigwam. Try not scream, then scream,
then fall down dead. Flying-sting wigwam fall off cock, flying
stings get out, everybody run run run." Long-Horn chuckled.

Zack's cock was pressing hard against the warm, powerful
legs under him. The shaft in his own mouth throbbed; it seemed
bigger with every stroke of his mouth. The blond trooper eased
up, raised his head. "How about th' other two troopers?"

"Soldiers run, Apaches run, all run together. Get away from
flying sting, lie down, catch breath, laugh. Apache, long-knife,
all together." Long-Horn grinned, but his face was tense.
"Afterward, two soldiers say, we do our balls and cock long-
knife-soldier way."

Zack took a slow pull on Long-Horn's cock, then paused to
say, "But --"

"Aieee!" Long-Horn suddenly went rigid, every muscle of his
powerful physique straining. "Ai-ha! Now, take!!"

Zack pounced, open-mouthed, on the jerking prong. He was
just in time; his lips clamped around the iron-hard prong just as
it erupted. He sucked, swallowed a swirling mouthful, sucked
harder. Under him, the naked Hercules gasped, jerked, and rammed
his cock skywards. Zack gulped down another jet of hot juice.

Long-Horn relaxed slowly, muscle by muscle, as Zack drained
him. Limp at last, but for his still-hard cock, Long-Horn said,
"Yellow-Hair take it all down?"

"Mmmmmm." Zack swallowed the last, slippery dribble and
raised his head. Eyes staring into Long-Horn's, Zack carefully,
deliberately licked his lips. Long-Horn stared impassively for a
moment, then his lips twitched; he grinned broadly; and he
carefully licked his own lips. Wordlessly, Zack rolled off the
Apache's legs so that he lay on his back in the long grass. The
naked cavalryman hitched himself along on his back until he lay
alongside Long-Horn.

The virile Apache studied Zack silently for a moment, then
smoothly rolled his powerful nakedness onto Zack's. Their arms
slid around each other's chests, locked tight. Zack's cock surged
to full hardness, and he felt it thrust against Long-Horn's. They
lay chest on broad, muscular chest; cock on cock; naked thigh on
thigh. Long-Horn lowered his head. Their noses touched, and
abruptly Long-Horn was sliding his torso down Zack's, sliding
skin on naked, taut skin, hands exploring Zack's chest and arms
and lean stomach. The blond trooper ran gauntleted hands over
Long-Horn's powerful back and shoulders, held his jet-haired head
a moment, then Zack propped up his shoulders on his elbows for a
better view as Long-Horn's head reached Zack's sexual equipment.

Long Horn studied Zack's quivering hard-on for a moment,
then carefully explored the hard shaft with fingers, nose-tip,
and finally with his wet, warm tongue.

When Long-Horn finished licking Zack's cock, Zack knew
orgasm was close. "Wait," he sighed. "Let me cool down. Don't
want to shoot too quickly."

Long-Horn raised his head. "Already, Yellow-Hair learn
Apache way, take time, enjoy?"

"Yeah. I mean, for sucking, yeah. But those other fellows,
the cavalry troopers you caught. What did you mean, do their
cocks and balls -- uh -- cavalryman's way?"

"Maybe not all long-knife soldiers cook balls that way, only
these two long-knife -- long knifes?"

"Long knives," said Zack as Long-Horn dropped his head,
sucked gently on Zack's glans for a moment and looked up again.

"None want more flying sting. Tree-Broken say use small
fire. Big long-knife soldier laugh, say meat burn. Curly-Hair
long-knife get mad, say not laugh. Mad Bear say, cook Apache way,
torture slow. Big soldier say, get iron pan and he boil cock and
balls. Thunder-Cloud go back, bring long-knife packs, get only
one sting. Put water in pan. Big soldier tie wire tight around
cock root. Mad Bear start small fire. Put pan on fire. Big
soldier straddle pan, balls and cock in water, boil slow."

Zack shuddered, but his cock surged to full, taut hardness.
Long-Horn lowered his mouth onto the throbbing shaft and sucked
for a dozen strokes. Zack was almost to the brink -- almost --
and Long-Horn lifted his head just in time.

"Curly-Hair long-knife laugh suddenly, tie more wire tight
around cock root. Dig in pack, get out pine-pitch, put thick on
cock and balls. Cock get hard, Curly-Hair put on more pine-pitch,
make wire more tight. Put fire to cock, pitch burn, Curly-Hair
sit, legs wide. All watch fire burn, watch meat cook." Long-Horn
went down on Zack's cock again; in half a dozen strokes, Zack was
at the edge of erupting.

Long-Horn raised his head.

Zack gasped, "Just in time, big stud." He took a deep,
shuddery breath, let it out slowly. "You mean, those two troopers
just -- just sat there and cooked their -- their meat?"

Long-Horn nodded. "Yellow-Hair have iron pan, have pine-
pitch? Cook Long-Horn afterward?"

"But --" Zack felt sudden understanding unfold in his mind.
"That wire! Real tight? Around the base of their cocks?" He
chuckled. "Long-Horn, you and your comrades got flummoxed,
gulled, tricked." He laughed again at the big Apache's puzzled
frown. "The wire, a tourniquet; it cut off the blood. Their cocks
and balls went to sleep, you know, got all numb. No wonder those
two fuckers took it so cool and collected."

Long-Horn looked unhappy, then angry, but a slow smile
finally spread over his face. "Paleface tricks," he chuckled,
then abruptly turned serious again. "Long-Horn show Apache not
need tight wire. Right after . . ." He went down onto Zack's cock
again.

"Dammit, you beautiful hunk of muscle, listen -- don't stop
sucking -- I'm too close -- that's it -- suck me, take me. Now,
you know what a fucking blood brother is?" Zack saw and felt
Long-Horn nod his head, felt him take Zack deeper with each
stroke, taking Zack's hard meat between strong teeth that barely
grazed the trooper's sensitive skin. Powerful shoulders and thick
arms supported the head that bobbed up and down Zack's shaft;
Zack was being sucked, being eaten as he watched his shaft go
into the Apache's hungry mouth.

Long-Horn squirmed a few inches lower on Zack's body; he
looked up into Zack's eyes as he sucked on Zack's prong.

Zack grinned, paused for breath, then said, "I've drunk your
ball-juice, swallowed all I sucked out of your prong. As soon as
you swallow the load I'm going to shoot into you, we'll be
brothers -- like blood brothers, only with ball-juice,
cocksucking -- Ah! Here it comes, **eat me, stud, EAT ME!!!"*

Inside, a dam broke, a lock unlatched, a liquid eruption
blasted up and out into a furious, boiling jet of sex and
virility and lust. Zack had never felt more alive, more naked,
more a sperm-squirting stud. His cock pumped out one blast,
another. He felt Long-Horn swallow, pumped the buck's mouth full
of sperm again -- again -- again -- until Long-Horn suctioned out
the last drops of Zack's load.

The naked Apache slowly raised his head, sucking hard until
Zack's glans snapped free.

"Good?"

"Plenty good." Zack shifted his shoulders so one elbow
propped him up and the other arm was free. He reached down,
stroked Long-Horn's shoulder. "Real good. Not your first time,
either, stud?"

Long-Horn shook his head. He touched tongue to Zack's cock,
licked away a last droplet, then squirmed forward in a long,
smooth lunge that brought him atop Zack again, chest to chest,
thigh on thigh, face to face. Long-Horn rolled over, and Zack was
the one on top. He sat up, thighs astride the buck's hips, cock
and balls sprawled on the Apache's. Zack put his hand around both
prongs. His own, still half-hard, was going soft while Long-
Horn's was swelling and stiffening again.

"Long-Horn, you cock -- uh, sorry. You big, magnificent red-
skinned stud." Zack squeezed their shafts again; his own stopped
relaxing, started to harden again. "Long-Horn my ball-juice-
brother, you are a fucking good lay."

Long-Horn tried to look impassive, but a pleased smile
spread across his face. "Yellow-Hair ball-juice-brother plenty
good stud too." His hand moved to cover Zack's and tightened over
the pair of stiffening shafts there. "Now make Long-Horn put cock
and balls in pot and cook only?"

"Cook only?"

"Only. Alone. By self alone," explained Long-Horn as he lay
on his back under Zack's body. "Yellow-Hair and Long-Horn are
sperm-brothers; Long-Horn not cook balls and cock alone."

"Right, " said Zack. "So --"

"So sperm-brothers Yellow-Hair and Long-Horn cook their two
cocks and four balls, all together. Yellow-Hair have pot big
enough for us both?"

"Hey, wait a fucking minute there!"

"Cook with pine-pitch, not good." The big Apache wrinkled
his nose. "Meat taste like pine leaf, raw inside, burn on
outside, not good. Boil in iron pot, more good."

"Now look!" Zack leaned forward, braced himself with a hand
on the buck's powerfully muscled chest. "We -- are -- not --
going -- to -- cook -- any-fucking-body's -- balls and cock and
stuff. Got it?"

"Eat raw instead?" Long-Horn tried to look worried, tried to
look serious, but his lips started to twitch, and suddenly he was
grinning, chuckling, shouting laughter and Zack was laughing too
and the blond trooper and the Apache clasped strong arms around
each other, locking their naked bodies in a tight hug.

Zack spoke, trying to sound angry: "Long-Horn speak with
forked tongue."

"Not forked tongue. Long-Horn make joke. See?" He stuck out
his tongue; Zack lowered his head, let the Apache lick Zack's
nose.

"All right, all right; you sure fooled me, stud." Zack
chuckled again.

"Two long-knife fool Apache with wire tourni-thing."

"I think Apaches have fun, torturing and -- and even
**getting* tortured." Zack touched his nose to Long-Horn's again,
then lifted his head. "If -- if I told you to make small fire, or
if I pulled an -- an iron pot out of my saddlebags, would you --
you know?"

"Or Long-Horn tell Yellow-Hair, put your balls on a small
fire?" The naked buck looked thoughtful. "Maybe is better that
sperm-brothers not know answer. More fun, not knowing; more fun,
to think we might, another day."

"Yeah." Zack felt his stiffening cock push against Long-
Horn's organs. "And you're wondering if I was really going to run
my saber all the way into your prong. Yes, there is something
about not being sure." He squirmed against the magnificent torso
under his own. "Got something for you in my saddlebags, you big,
horny stud."

"Not small iron pot?"

"Nope."

"Not pine-pitch? Skinning knife? Iron pinchers?"

"Nope. A bottle of oil."

"Burn-oil?"

"Slippery oil." Zack squirmed his hips against Long-Horn's,
felt cock slide along cock. "Real slippery oil. Very slippery."

"Ummmm?" The naked Hercules wriggled under Zack, thrusting
up with his hips.

" `Ummmm' is right." Zack started to get up; his hand
touched his saber. He climbed to his feet, saber in hand, looked
thoughtfully down at his hard cock. While Long-Horn smoothly rose
to his own feet, Zack carefully, gingerly touched saber-tip to
his own cock-tip, let a half-inch of steel slide into the opening
of his glans. He looked up, saw Long-Horn watching. "Just wanted
to see what it's like -- here, you try." He handed the saber to
Long-Horn, hilt-first. "No, not on yours. Mine." Zack steadied
his own stiff cock and watched, fascinated, as Long-Horn
cautiously impaled Zack's glans with almost an inch of cold,
glittering steel.

The blade was cold, a stab of pain at Zack's outthrust
virility. He stared down for a moment, absorbing the sight of the
sharp steel, ready to drive in the length of his prong and on up
into his entrails. Yet, perversely, his cock hardened still more,
and inside, deep in the roots of his shaft, Zack felt the
reservoirs there refilling with another charge of liquid
virility.

"Maybe, make long-knife torture more good," said Long-Horn.
He withdrew the saber from Zack's cock, sank an inch into his
own. "Maybe, push in long-knife plenty slow. Then, make small
fire, make long-knife hot --"

"And ya roast th' fellow's prong on a spit, from th' inside?
Want to try it?"

"Try Yellow-Hair with slippery oil now. Yellow-Hair want
Long-Horn fuck first?"

"Well --

"Yellow-Hair's oil, Yellow-Hair say." He eased the saber a
fraction of an inch deeper into his glans, then pulled the saber
out and laid it aside.

"All right then," Zack crowed. "Come on, ball-juice brother;
I got a blanket. Let's fuck!"


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[Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
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