"Wichita"
Part 5
Happy Hanukah and Merry Christmas
"*****
"Howdy boys, I am driving the buckboard, with ma, taking the vegetables and the eggs into town. Ma wants to buy some cloth for sewing and baking supplies.
Let Jack have a horse; the saddles are in the tack room." He continued. Then he went to the house. A few moments later the buckboard rolled down the road, and they were gone.
The horses were grazing in a fenced pasture. Jack earlier had zeroed in on a husky buckskin stallion, an absolute beauty. He was saddled in no time, and tied to the hitching rail, in front of the house.
Jack said to me, with no hesitation at all. "Let's not be stupid queers, but are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Yup, corn-poking a pecker in somebody's ass is what I'm thinking." There is just us here, with no fear of the folks walking in. "How does that sound" I asked.
"Hotter than fuck – shore would like some of that."
"Who's on top," I asked?
"That's stupid Curly, however I wouldn't mind your meat squirting inside me," smiled Jack, answering what he just called stupid.
I hankered to fuck. There is nothing better than cowboy's cum dripping out of a fuck hole
Knowing the things I know, I will say what I feel. Sometimes it gets me in trouble, and sometimes it gets me naked with just the right person. Jack was the right person, no doubt about it.
"Seems like there's a whole lot of "sometimes," goin on here," replied Jack. Here was a unique situation, and he was rubbing the front of my pants, one would think, there was a cougar in those jeans. Straight to the bedroom we went, like a couple of two-dollar whores. We wanted, what we wanted, and queer enough to go after it. At last, we could be ourselves and not phony woman chasing cowboys.
I placed my face in Jack's neck showing every hint of loving him. Being way too smart, for romantic nonsense, I told myself, "ha – love, are you crazy?" Still, I couldn't stop thinking about him.
Jack unbuttoned, and placed both my hands covering his crotch touching a thick patch of pubic fur. Purdy nice – gotta admit rolling his cock between my fingers. Jack was moist, oven warm and moist. I told him that, waiting for a response.
"It's warm for you; cuz you know what to do with it."
This was a good reply. I don't make the rules, I only live by them when it comes to poking, and sucking, rules aren't necessary. That's a nice way of describing a bunkhouse queer. Just nuts!
Jack sprawled on the bunk lying with his legs parted. His thighs quivered just a bit allowing a meaty bump to move slowly in his crotch. I kneeled between his legs dangling off the bed putting my face between his thighs, pretending to nibble on the bulge in his pants. I was behaving queer as hell. Yup - just PERFECT!
"Hold on just a minute," Jack said, removing his shirt, and pulling his pants below his knees. They were in my way, of course, so I removed his boots, pulled them completely off letting every bit of him, being mine.
I chilled inside, knowing that pecker weapon was for me. I was discovering the difference between a "Horny Wrangler, and a "Farm Slut." The difference doesn't amount to a hill of beans...
This was the second time today having his cock in my mouth. However, I couldn't pass up those lip-smacking cum makers. Like potato chips, you can't stop with just one taste.
Jack, for sure, had a hairy lunch factory, under his cock, working like little solders, producing faggot snacks.
"Suck `em, Curly," was about all Jack could mumble.
Jake had no sooner fucked my mouth when gushed from his cock spurts of you know what, shooting out so quickly. The brew from the cauldron filled my mouth and I eagerly gulped, being so proud of myself.
"Whew Curly, dang brother, you did it again. I fancy all this homo shit you can do." Jack spoke directly with meaning.
"How `bout I poke your dumper and fuck your ass? You can be my squaw bitch." I spoke up sounding slightly eager. "I'll do it, if you can take it." I continued.
"It's a little hole, just get it in, I can keep it there and ride me like your whore. But, make no mistake, I am a man, and not a squaw birch," mumbled Jack concerned being a masculine fighting stud.
He was Comanche, so I kinda liked him being a squaw bitch, but didn't tell him that. Jack was a real man, that's for damn sure.
He wanted sex of course, but more importantly, he wanted respect. I was the same way making for a perfect team. Sex he had, respect being Comanche, he needed.
"Why am I saying this? I have no idea. I am joyful with a tendency to brag without thinking seriously. I wasn't sure if we were drowning in sexual suffering. I wanted to know what was taking place in Jack's mind.
I rolled him back to a comfort zone and went to work on his body His butt was a treasure, of virgin flesh; it was clean, not used for fucking, and that bit of news, is for the record.
He raised his butt in the air knowing I would kiss his cheeks and of course, lick him. I raised his naked legs in the air ramming my face into his hairy butt licking and slurping his dump hole. He gave up his ass knowing exactly how to do it.
I was blown away by how good he was sexually. I never felt such a human connection, and it was nuts. I ran my tongue up, and then down, stopping a dozen places, from his butt up the back.
"Do whatever you want to do; I'll cooperate, yuh want those hairy plum balls in your mouth Curly, This is sweet," he mumbled, keeping my head on a wet meaty cock, with his thighs.
"Yuh want that dump hole fucked?" I asked.
"Yeah, fill me up, gotta do it sometime." Yeow, he was ready for anything, and you wouldn't catch me saying no.
Jack said clearly, "Times are unique for us. There are queer cowboys, but hardly anybody knows who they are, except for the obvious sissy girlish men. They get fucked, and then ignored on the street. I'm lucky finding you, and even luckier knowing that you like me. Never ignore me," he chuckled.
"Nope, I never would do that. I thought you were going to say, "This is it, and you are not coming back."
"Oh, hell no; I'm not going any place, besides leaving wouldn't work cuz I can always find my way back, even travelling miles to do it." Jack concluded.
My fingers wouldn't work fast enough, but, I managed. When I touched his ass, he opened up for me, saying – "Game on, put that fuckin rod to work."
I began chewing away at his ass cheeks and spreading them with my hands. It was taste time, and I wasted no moments getting my tongue inside his butt hole. He was wet with saliva, and moaning like a sick cow. It was a quiet moan, and not all that dramatic, yet hot and horny, and that's the truth.
Jack whimpered and moved around pushing back on my face. I face licked him as he wiggled side to side. He flopped like a goldfish caught in a net. I backed off and used my finger instead to loosen him up. I felt like saying, "Keep your ass still, you're rocking – fuckin idiot." But, I didn't.
My finger slid into him with ease. So I tried two fingers and eventually had the third inside him. His body was magnetically warm when clamped around my fingers. I don't think he was all that comfortable, but never complained. And the rocking stopped.
My balls were screaming for action, and I had to fuck the heat out of this cowpoke, `cuz he was willing, and I was on top.
Jack's low slung hips and cowboy butt, was Mother Nature's gift to this Comanche cowpoke. Dang, I was one happy dude. It was enough to get anyone (except lesbians) charged up, energized, and made for what matters.
I could feel cum stirring in my balls, as my pecker slid in and out, shallow, then deep, as he grasped my cock so tightly. It was romance at first fuck. Jack's butt was in love with my cock, and that's saying something.
I knew I was about to explode, even though I wanted to keep feeling the heat. Sex was the catalyst, no doubt about it, however, there was more, much more, than sex bothering me.
"Where do you want it" – I yapped calmly. Good grief, what a dumb question that was.
"Stay where you are Curly, dump it where you fucked it."
"I couldn't stop once I began popping off. My heart was beating fast and my chest began to perspire. I hoped to describe it a little better, since it was one of those sneaky moments. But you get the picture.
I sprawled, collapsed on top of Jack's body with my cock still inside him. It was going flaccid now, so it slid out easy.
Jack flipped around and said. "Here, let me take it care of it."
I stayed next to him as he bent down and wiped my cock, with his shirt. He cuddled up to me and whispered. "Curly, What do you say, we get up now; I want to wash my ass so I don't crap my duds riding a horse, into Wichita. We have to get moving."
"I hope you're putting on a clean shirt." I giggled.
"That's an insane question. Gosh, listen to yourself again. I'm not wearing a shirt streaked with butt cum.
"Oh yeah, I knew exactly what he meant.
Earlier, I set aside warm water, knowing Jack would, by all means, wash his crotch, and definitely a clean shirt, whether cum stained, or not.
Next – Wichita, and Jack's meeting with the Marshall. I hope today wasn't just an easy come, easy go, affair.
Fuck, since meeting Jack, I have been doing a heap of selfish hoping. Besides that, staying silent is not always easy.
Before coming to Wichita, Jack sold his horse planning on buying another. He arrived by stagecoach.
Today, he borrowed a horse from Pa. This meant he was returning to the farm, and the party was far from over.
The day moved slowly at first, and then as if longing for a miracle, the buckboard was coming down the road.
Jack sat in the middle driving, with the buckskin stallion tied on behind. A dab of warmth came over me. I understood what everybody saw in him.
For me, it centered on my own personal greed, and the point is...?
To Continue...
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