Cowboy Caper

by Joseph54 FICTION: YOU: I am not a cowboy I think, because of the “boy” part and no one ever says, “cowman’ and that’s really how I think of myself as a man, not a boy. I have a man’s fat tool. always tumescent and slightly wet either from piss or precum. Marriage proved not to be the sex playground of teenage promise and so, I always find myself either rubbing my pulsing pud in my pants; or sometimes when I just have to have a nut (“sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t”), I pull my prick out even in the cab of my truck and pull over to the side of the road and pound that motherfucker to pleasant peace. Once I even tasted what I tasted like because I even thought it would be good to know what the whores were getting. Tasted kinda good, I thought, like smooth tapioca-- a little salty. I only did that once though so I could give assurance to the whores that it was all right to swallow… but they never did and I always thought that insulting…they spit my load out. Oh, the whores! In my small town there are no pros. Oh, maybe the occasional lot lizard bored with her current ride gave me a “come here” look n the “Tack Room”, the bar where I go mostly every night it seems now. Not that I hate the wife; she just don’t party, always a headache or a complaint or some chick bullshit and hell, she don’t ever SWEAT like I think she ought to, if she was really havin’ fun. Like she’s doing her duty or something. Hell, I used to have more fun with her grabbin my dick in the dark of the movie theatre when we was in high school together. She’d get that real severe look on her face so that no one was supposed to know what we were doing and I’d have my hand between her legs and I’d be fingerin her and she’d be jackin me off and she’d be as wet and slippery as the wheat field after the morning dew and she’d smell just as sweet too. She’d shake and shudder and be staring straight ahead at that screen and she never seemed to mind when I got her hand slimy and gooey. She’d just wipe her hand on her slip and look at me out of the corner of her eye. But even then, she never smiled. So, naturally, I thought it’d be different when we got married and it was for the first year or so, but then Chuckie was born and then Eva and then the light just seemed to go out. but I ain’t mad at her, I just leave her be and I got my porn and the bathroom or the barn and the cab of my pickup and once in a while I drive over to Helena and go to an XXX place and buy magazines and sit in one of those peep show booths and blow $100 in quarters and watch those movies till I think my prick will explode and then I beat off on the floor and get the hell out of there. Always a lot of dudes hangin out in the hallway looking for what I don’t know. Well, I ain;’t THAT stupid. I know what those faggots want, but I am NEVER going to let one of tem suck my dick. I ain’t no FAGGOT! Makes me laugh though and to tell you the truth, sometimes I wonder; does a man’s mouth feel different than a woman’s? Probably not. Hell, a mouth is a mouth. Those dudes look HUNGRY, like vampires or something. And they’re so fuckin womanish and that ain’t right. that’s all. that ain’t right. The way they look at me gives me the fuckin creeps, it does. Now, I know that I look good. I catch the wives of some of my friends checkin me out. I can’t help it! I got a fat thick 7” cock and no matter what pants I am wearin,. that fucker always shows hisself. After about three weeks, my jeans always have this worn spot where he is layin and like I said, he’s always half-hard either going up or coming down. I wish my sex life was better, and then maybe he’d leave me alone. people sometimes just kind of look down and even some guys and the pastor and hell even when I go to church sometimes and do they really think I don’t notice? Once, I was actin unavailable to some hooker and I guess she thought I was shy because I had a small dick or something and she says, “Look, I don’t care if your dick is as short as the last day of a condemned man!” And I just looked at her and swung around in my chair so she could get the view and then she said, “Damn, boy, That thing’s got a stay of execution!’ I almost fucked her but when she laughed, I saw she had no side teeth and that really turned me off. Anyway, the wife went to her sister’s with the kids for the weekend and I am tired of sitting around this damn house by myself. You know, even if I jack off, I just don’t feel like jackin off in my house. Kids’ toys everywhere, the damn phone ringin, and all that bullshit I just want to get out somewhere else. I was sitting around and my dick was feelin like it wanted some air so I got out a porn mag and pulled my pud out but that wasn’t cutting it. So I stuffed him back in my jeans and headed out the door into the truck and down the highway to Helena and the bookstore. I am so damn horny, I might just let one of those faggots swing on my prong. hell, if I ain’t doin the suckin….. ME: I am a CCCC “Card carrying Cowboy Cocksucker.” Get it right. I am NOT a cowboy, but I like to suck cowboy dick. you’d think that up here that’d be easy, but it ain’t. Folks round here are mighty discreet, mighty discreet and I am what you’d calla ‘local legend” or the “best kept secret all over the block.” I’ve been sucking dicks since grammar school and you could say I got a rep, Anyway, I come here to Miss Kitty’s Kat Korner about twice a week. Some of these dudes in here are nothing but grown up versions of tired jock football punks and I know quite a few of them, but what the hell, a dick is a dick. Once in a great while, some hot horny trucker will come in hell bent to drop his load and so he‘ll go in a booth and sometimes he’ll open his door for me to open my mouth for him because his balls are achin and the cream is turning to cheese. And sometimes, some tired good ole-with-an-attitude will start out being all hostile and negative and well, “a stiff dick has no conscience”, I always say. Sometimes there is the occasional white punk or poor trailer trash getting pissed off at me because I don’t charge and they’re hustling. Fuck’ em. Sex is free if it’s good. I ain’t no whore, but I am a man-slut, man-toy and most anyone who looks good enough can park in my dock anytime. So, here I am standing around, minding my business, felling good, checking things out, when this awesome looking cowboy walks in. He was all alone. I watched him for a few minutes. he was twisting a toothpick between his teeth, and I could only wish that it was his dick between mine. I thought of that Marshall Tucker song, wondering if this was one cowboy who doesn’t spend his nights alone. his hair was cut short, but it grew right into a beard which grew in one continuous line until it sprouted into a pencil-thin moustache. There was not a strand of hair which touched his ears, and the brimmed hat he wore fit him to a “t”. The outline of his crotch was clearly visible even through the denim jeans he wore. His dick bulge made a big projection, and it was difficult for me to keep my eyes from the sight. You and me: “You like westerns, boy? You like cowboys?” He kept on talking like he was in a rush. “Yep. I think you like cowboys, that what it is. So, whaddya wanna see? You wanna see how a cowboy does it? Ya wanna see some cowboy brand of fuckin, Boy? Is that why you’re looking at my dick? That why you checkin me out, huh? I was speechless but my hand had begun to go where in between my legs the heat began to rise. “Okay, kid. My truck’s parked up the street. I got 24 cans of brew and about a quart of ball juice, but I warn ya, I ain’t famous for bein the fastest gun in the West.” With that, he walked out and I followed. He had to pass me and as he did, I noticed a faint smell of sweat and Old Spice. Although his beard was trimmed, there were whisker burns and nicks on his cheeks, like he was in a rush to shave and did a lousy job. He was sexy in a rough kind of way. his arms were hairy and his muscles were well-worked. he was wearing Justin’s and had spurs attached to tem with a little leather strap. He approached a dusty Dodge and opened the driver’s door, he motioned me to the other one and I waited while he got in and popped the door lock. He reached behind him to a small cooler. I heard the click-clack of cubes and he pulled out a can and popped the tab, and then swigged the whole thing down in one gulp. “Working and sweating all day sure builds up a man’s thirst. You’ll be pretty thirsty before I’m through too, bud.” With that, he popped another top and guzzled that down too. Then he started the engine and drove away. “Where we goin?”I asked. “That’s for me to know and you….not to worry about.” “Can I have a beer?" “You’ll get some.” As he drove he started rubbing on that bulge of his and humming a tune that I didn’t know. “Fuck it,” he mumbled and shook his head and cracked a bit of a smile. “Fuck it!” he repeated and added, “I hues one mouth’s the same as another.” Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the park in the center of town. I knew about this place because I had sucked a lot of dick there, but we went to the place where str8 couples usually went. At 10p.m, it was strangely deserted. Without a word, he stopped, grabbed the cooler, got out his side and slammed the door. Then he started to walk down a path between some trees. he never looked back but he didn’t have to, he knew I’d follow... He stopped in a small bare spot on the side of the path and without a word, dropped the cooler, stripped off his shirt, turned to me, and ripped mine off! I felt like and animal-- naked--ready to be roped and ridden hard. He looked at me for a second and with one motion, reached down got a beer, popped it and unbuckled the oversized Browning belt buckle from his Levi’s belt. He stripped off his jeans and was standing there in a jock strap. I could see his dick straining through the yellow-with-piss gauzy material. “This is so I can move with ease while I am working on you,” he said, He looked at me with eyes that said I CAN DOMINATE YOU TOTALLY and I knew then that I was his prize. he had captured me and I was as vulnerable as a young bull. He must’ve read my thoughts. I watched as he reached into a pocket of his discarded jeans and pulled out a long length of leather rawhide. “I’m gonna tie you up, boy a then I’m gonna use you. You’ll stand still, IF you know what’s good for you.” Then he ties my hands together in back of me and tied my hands to my balls from underneath. I surrendered like a helpless calf top this man who has such strength; such power such ability to mesmerize. Though his hands were big, they were nimble and he tied the knots, like they knew their work on their own... Then he tied my feet together and with a little kick, sent me sprawling on the ground. he stood over me and poured beer onto my face and said, “I though you’d be a little thirsty, yourself, boy.” I was hogtied and his. He popped open another and from wherever, he pulled out a joint. he pulledonmg and deep on it then he got down and said, “Open your mouth”. When I did, he blew smoke into it. “I bet you’re good and thirsty now, boy and I reckon you need some beer, too. it might be a little warmer than you expected, but it’ll sure taste good...” He pulled me up to my knees and said, “Look at me boy and don’t look down.” I looked up at this Marlboro Man standing above me. He reached inside his jock and pulled out his meaty tool. and let it dangle over my face. The head was brownish and it was so bog, it was incredible. Its skin was like fleshy boot leather and I strained upwards aching for just a little taste. He pulled down his jock and began to massage his big low hanging balls and I swear, his dick looked as thick as it was long and it was plenty long. His stomach and his abs were as tight as a washboard and he seemed to be straining them. I wondered why... That was the last thing that I could see. He let it go. A gushing fountain of piss began splattering allover my face, his urine streamed into my eyes and cascaded allover my kneeling body. It spilled over me in torrents and unknown even to myself I opened my mouth to drink it. I wanted to taste the second hand beer from this cowboy and my throat basked in relief.. “So ya think you’ve had enough beer, boy.” I furiously shook my head “no” and he let loose with another gusher, “Ahhhhhh that feels good, ahhhhh” and with that he ppooed his dick head into my mouth and I began sucking. I sucked hard and strained upwards at the same time, trying to get him hard and trying to get the last salty droplets of piss from his dick slit. His hose-; his meat ted delicious and I felt that finally I had a right to it, that I had earned a right to have his manhood in my mouth where it was snugly implanted. But he had other things in mine. is cock would be mine only when he decided it would be. He knocked me right down into the puddle of muddy piss, held his head back, and laughed. he popped open another beer and I began to crawl over to him through the mid on my hands and knees. He didn’t see me (or pretended not to) and held the can of beer upwards. I slipped his cockhead back into my mouth and he jumped as if stung. His boot met my chest and he knocked me down saying,” Can’t a man drink in peace, you little shit?!” I sank a little lower and my stomach went with me. “Looks like you need a little training, boy.” He reached behind me and jerked upwards on the rawhide that tied my hands t my balls. I yelped in pain and he said, “Beginning to se it my way faggot? I cal the shots around here. Do what you’re told when you’re told and nothing more. Understand?” “Yes, sir”, I said meekly and he let out a loud fart. “now, faggot, SUCK MY BALLS!” he pushed his rancid, pissy, stinky-with-sweat and old spunk tasting balls into my mouth and bent over to grab my nipples. I lapped greedily and the more he pulled on my tits, the more I lapped at his nuts. It seemed like and eternity and what with the dope and the beer and the madness of it all, my mind was gone. I sucked on his sac with a sense of gratification like I knew what I was made for. There was no time, no space, just his full swollen ball sac, the wetness and stink of his piss and the full felling of furry balls in my mouth. I knew now what I was to do and what he wanted. I was to worship this cowboy---- in the flesh. I was to be manhandled at his discretion, his whim. I was to be handled like and animal. Am I confused? Am I not the man I think I am? Am I a lowly animal? I looked up at him again and continued to suck on his ball sac. His pliable, veiny, fleshy piece of meat hung over my face and it was obvious-- the answer. I WAS an animal, HIS ANIMAL. Without a word, he grabbed my mouth, forced my jaws open, and slipped his wet balls out. I had not noticed but his dick had filled with blood and became a solid, huge chuck wagon hunk of man meat. He shoved it straight into my mouth and holding the back of my head, forced it right down my throat. I ate like it was my last meal, I mean, I gobbled at it hungrily. Even the thought of choking or gagging wo8uldn’t let me stop pulling it deeper and deeper down my gullet. “You fuckin cocksucker” he roared. “Suck this man’s prick meat! See how good it tastes! @? It’s all yours.” He started fucking away at my face, squeezing it all in, forcing me to open as wide and as far as my throat, muscles would allow. I could see that his jaw had firmed and hardened as he concentrated in earnest. He was as caught up in as I was! I, for my part, knew only that I wanted to stuff all of that delicious dick in my craving throat cavity. Its bulbous head was beginning to leak. my tongue grabbed and lapped at his slit and tasted those drops of precum that had begun to flow freely out of it. This was a real man fucking the shit out of my face and I tried to show my appreciation by eating him with an animalistic fury. Snot was shooting out of my nostrils and his pole became slicker and slicker with my throat slime. I felt him swell and grow harder and just when I felt he was on the verge of letting it explode into my mouth, he pulled away. He put his hands on his hips in that position that always sounded like a seedy hotel, arms akimbo, and he smirked fully satisfied with all he surveyed. “Now, bucko, I’ve broken you and now I’m gonna ride you.” He reached down and grabbed my hair and half-dragged me over to where a log had been allowed to fall as a kind of bench for tired walkers. He commanded me to lay along the length of it, NOT bend over it, and he said, “This wooden horse, is your Trojan horse and I got a lot of little men that’ll run up your butt here in a minute.” I knew his still-bloated tool was going to hurt when it penetrated my hole, the length of his monster ripping and tearing me like nothing ever before. But I was ready and willing and I was damned if I wasn’t going to be able too. He had made me feel like an animal and now I felt an acute emptiness that seemed to be centered in my butt, an emptiness that the more he talked became an animal need. I yearned to be plugged and ridden. My butt hole was this cowboy’s willing orifice, a hole, a gate, a post hole, waiting for his ramming rod. It was his to use and abuse just as my mouth had been. I raised my butt up off the log and showed him my winking brown eye. I heard him spit a wad into his hand which he then rubbed against my shithole, attempting to slide one of his long fat fingers in at the same time. I was tight, and he jabbed into me savagely and I tried to relax to accommodate his fevered motions. I was ready for that fuckstick, but had a hard time getting my sphincter to obey. I wanted to be fucked, I wanted to be taken by my cowboy man but my hole wouldn’t loosen up. He grunted and I could feel him wiggle his finger from side to side and at once, he slapped my ass hard wit the back of his otter hand. WJHACK! WHACK WHACK! “Open up, little faggot boy,! You’re tighter than a spinster’s pocket book!” Then he pulled out his finger disgustedly and said, “Fuck this shit! Either open up or I’ll have to rip you a new hole. take your pick. I got no time for faggot games. You want it? here I come!” And wit that he grabbed me around the waist and pulled my midsection up to meet his. My asshole was still a little wet from his pit, but it was far from slick. I could feel the big knobby head of his fat prick making contact, the bulb of it pressing insistently against my puckered hole. There would be no resistance, there could be no resistance. I was beyond resisting. He started slapping me on my thigh, kept on slapping, and never let up on his relentless assault on my last defense. Suddenly, my hole relaxed and the first fat inch of his heavy hitter slipped past the ring. I could hardly recognize my own voice saying, “C’mon,. Cowboyt! RIDE ME! DRILL ME! LAY PIPE IN ME! FUCK ME,,.DADDY!” He continued to press and slowly and painfully, his dick slidin me up to the balls. I heard my voice again, begging, pleading, almost praying to him, “Fill me., fill me take meeeeeeeeeeee.” and then the pain was such that I think I passed out. mercifully. I came to consciousness anew man. I was covered in sweat and piss and I was being riough fucked, bucked really, by my stallion man. I was MAGNIFICIENT. he qs a wild man, pummeling me asshole with long, forceful and rapid strokes in and out. I culd tell that he was not in the least concerned with how it felt to me. He knew I was no woman but I was now HIS BITCH and my hole would be used for his satisfaction only. It was as if he knew that was enough for me. I almost came to myself again and I tried to exercise a bit of control over my muscles. They, though feeling a bit like mushy over cooked macaroni, must’ve been gripping at his rod because he half-sang’ Ooooh baby sooo tight, sooo fuckin tight and good my boy pussy… my fuckin GOD!! How Fucking tight! You like that, boy. You feel my fat cock in you? Tell me! tell me awwwwww. shitttttttttt!” I tried to get my muscles to relax internally and I guess that the little muscle spasms were doing their job on hi because now he began to grind up and around in me, Long and slow and circular motions that were causing the walls of my asshole to expand like plastic wrap. It hurt so badly but he held my waist tightly and bit into my shoulder and I could feel him drool, his spit sliding down into my armpit. he fucked harder now with short jabbing thrusts and grunted like a pig. He scratched his chin against the smooth tender skin of my back and bit my neck. Then he started that long fast fucking that I knew would soon bring him off. But it didn’t I still tried to get my mushy muscles to relax and, surprisingly, I began to feel the first twinges of a slow-burning fire deep inside me. I knew my asshole was his saddle for his prick to ride and his balls bounced against my asscheeks like two saddlebags heavy wit their load. he pumped without cease and without missing a beat or stroke. He varied the tempo but not the force. he jammed it harder and harder it seemed and the more he hammered, the more the spurs on his boots jammed into my calves. the pain was almost too much but it was also transforming. I was being transformed into ecstasy. All I could think of was that I was being fucked like an animal. I was being ridden by a rodeo champion, my cowboy. that thought felt good and somehow I had the wherewithal to, in one smooth motion, let my ass close around his dick completely like a vise. I tried to hold him fast, deep, immobile inside me and then he really had his pleasure. I tried to buck him off and hold him at the same time and he moaned and drooled spit and cursed and slapped my ass and pumped mercilessly in my shithole, grinding away. Our movements now were becoming totally in rhythm, in synch but at a frenzied and fast pace. My hands were still tied behind me, I could feel his sweaty stomach hairs, and he began to grasp more tightly to my body. He made one last pitch forward, I could feel him harden up in me, and then his pistol triggered off its load. his semen poured into my bowels, bursting like a geyser. Unconsciously, (was it), he gave a yank on my cock and I was over the brink. I looked down to see my own gism spurt, an arch in a jet of spurts and I was amazed to hear my own voice whimper as the tears flowed down my face. He yanked his dick roughly out of me and said, “Turn over.” I lay on that log, exhausted, spent and was gratified, even welcoming the stream of piss that washed me off. Once again, I opened my mouth to drink….