Western Rider 21

It is strange to be a married gay cowboy, but there it is. I guess I'm still a free-range homo, ready for a fuck or suck just about any old time. My husband encourages this, like he had a choice.

One a month, I leave the ranch and my stables, and my hooved friends, and the horny people that run the place. Robert and I go somewhere or stay at his place. There are corporate jets and stuff. I know this is luxury, but it's all strange to me.

See, there was this pasty CFO that used to fly in. The ruse was he was checking on his boys, three busy studs. Then he and I would head up into the hills and canyons. I would find a spot, and we'd lay down a campsite. I'd find quality time to rail Robert's cute butt. And it is cute.

Talking to him, I had this sense that his life was a helluva lot different than mine. I didn't tell him about the other folks that worked at the ranch, like the boss man and his hotwife lady. Or about our diesel mechanic with the ten inch dick that is a joy to behold. It's sort of complex how on any given day, some of us will fuck some of us somehow. It's pretty casual.

Robert intrigued me anyway. Then he proposed. I arranged to take a few days off. We went to Vegas and got hitched. I didn't know much about his history; it wasn't as interesting to me as is his cute butt, sexy smile, and his hawt Freddy Mercury mustache. Bones me. Pitter-patter.

He could be up to his ears in debt or not, but I took him for an honest man. I decided I could trust him. And he knows I'm a nutcase faggot gay cowboy. It's not just my big dick he likes.

Eventually, I find out more about Robert. Born in Chantilly France. Americans say that word, "shan tilly". The French say it, "shant ee ee". There is a Creme Chantilly, which sounds like "kram shahnt ee e". Whipping cream. But the importance of that place is this: Equestrian History. That's right, horse, horsemanship, and a steeped history of all things equine.

I'm a horseman myself. So is Robert. Putting that together, he wants to be a breeder operator, and is putting it all together, complete with a cowboy husband.

That's me.

And so, we flew there, via Paris. It's full of history, and hot men in killer outfits that are nothing like what a gay cowboy wears. They're nonetheless HOT. And a few of them, casually queer. Yeah, baby.

Robert knows a few, and they know him. Intimately. They like cowboys; we're the feral version of them. A number of them have dreams of being cowboys. They want to get on a nice ride, head out for a few days into the open countryside, ride, maybe herd, fix or do something, then come back. Maybe. But it's so packed there in Europe that there aren't opportunities for long rides. It is a domesticated place. The American West still has untamed areas.

There are, however, opportunities in Europe for good gay sex. I learned a LOT.

Let's take Anton. Proud tall man, groomed perfectly, this thick strange mustache sideburns combo. Trimmed to the millimeter. Large fit body. Thick thighs. Tall in the saddle. Wears period-piece uniforms with helmets with weird chin straps and shit. Has a sword, knows how to use it. Super-erect back with thick ropey muscles that bulge through his uniform. Hot.

My French is terrible but his Spanish isn't so bad, but Espanol Norte Mexico is sometimes a tough translation. Fortunately, he's patient. I know he wants to get my pants. I'm gonna let him.

He has a western saddle I like. I show him some fancy mounts and dismounts. Then moving dismounts, Western Style. He loves it. He's a large guy. Robert gets all swishy around him. I suspect Robert has bent over for this man. Hell, I would!

We eat very well there, in town. Robert's place is north, and he drives us. It's an old estate house and the ceilings are low, barely taller than Anton's head. Robert and Anton drink wine.

For a moment, they speak rapid fire in their local version of French to each other and I can't follow it. Then as if they rehearsed it, they both look at me. Me?

"Robert says he married you because you have a big deek," Anton tells me.

I look at Robert. "Am I supposed to blush or something?"

This makes them both laugh hilariously. Must be the wine.

"I doubt it was my personality, Anton." This makes them laugh even more.

Anton looks at me with these smoldering eyes. "Show me."

Robert's eyes light up. I guess this is the arm candy phase of our relationship. I stand pull back my belt buckle, and pop the buttons on my jeans. I reach in, and grab it. I use a little drama to release my dick.

"Whoaaaa!" Anton blurts out. Yeah, he's tipsy. His eyes are bugging out and I'm not THAT hung. I'll take the praise. I wank it hard and let it bob. Anton looks at my face, then my dick, then my face. He turns to Robert.

"May I?" Robert beams. "Yes."

I'm thinkin': Do I get a say in it? Uh, no, because Anton nearly knocks his chair to the floor and is on his knees in front of me in a flash. Then he does, he asks nicely, this puppy dog look on his face as I feel his breath on my crank.

"May I suck on your deek?" he asks. I smile down. Then nod.

I must be candy or something. He closes his eyes and works down my dick, inch by fucking inch until his nose pokes me. Then comes that last inch. No hands. Ahhhhhhh. I look at Robert. He's beaming and winks at me.

I put my hand behind Anton's head. Just a little skullfuckery is needed. He's proud he's taken it all. I entertain myself and he's really good at this. Still no hands. Then he stops cold.

"May I undress you?" he asks, very seriously, big smile on his face. The man is very excited.

I let him. He unwraps me like I'm candy. Sees my pierced titties. Likes that, and nibbles on 'em. My boots come off. He sniffs my pits and then my hooves and almost swoons. Asks if he can lick 'em.

It's ticklish! The man is hungry and my feet are his meal! Never had anything like that before. Never.

Anton licks up my legs to my balls, and sucks on those as Robert watches, a smile on his face. Devours me. Lifts my legs and goes at my ass with fervor. Rims me until I get very fucking hard. OMG. Robert is watching and grinning. I flip him the bird.

He lets me down, gently, and rises. I watch him peel his clothes. I'm wondering what's under the cod piece thing he wears as part of his equestrian getup. The vest and frilly shirt comes off. He has a beautiful pelt of fur, two pierced titties like mine. His buckle goes, zipper, then he slowly yanks his boots, and peels the drawers.

Dammit. A leather jock hides his dick. I wanna see that dick. I've been wondering what it looks like. I think he knows this.

Anton walks closer to me, thighs like tree furred tree trunks. I can smell the leather of his jock. It has a large pouch. I lean forward, get on my knees, and rub my face on it and inhale his scent.

It's like homo perfume. Sweaty. Leather. All man. If I keep snorting this perfume, I will get high. I move back and take a hand on each side of his jock and lower it. My mouth is watering. Holy fuck.

Anton is hung so thick that I am shocked. It might only be five inches, but it's just as thick as the rest of him. I gently pull back his foreskin and there is this fist-sized head on him. And the tip is wet, a long piss slit full of his anticipation.

I look up at him. He is proud and he his hornier than fuck. Robert looks at me, eyes wide, watching us intently.

"Take your fucking gear off, Robert," I order. Slightly rattled, he immediately complies. He's fast and has too many clothes on, but I have something to do.

I lick that girth in front of me. Taste it. Dayum. Anton groans this bass note groan. This is a challenge. I will not win. But I'm going to try. My hand is large and my fingers do not meet my thumb. Thick Dick.

Stetching my jaw, I start working down Anton's fat dick. Lick. Suck. Suck. I can only get half of it. I'm tempted to break myself. No. I spit in my hand and work his shaft and his big tight balls as I do half of it.

More bass notes are heard. I run my hands on his furred tree trunks. Fuck yes.

My hands are tight on those muscles. Feels great in my hands, these huge ropes. I knead them. His ass is like twin rocks. Fuck.

He begs me to stop. "Stop! STOP!" he yells, but he's not moving away.

Anton suddenly roars but I felt it cumming a split second before he does. Holy fuck.

I swallow cum. There is a LOT OF CUM. More cum. He is peeing cum. I swallow and swallow but I can't keep up and suddenly it's all over my face. He just doesn't quit. I'm stunned. Happy, amazed, and stunned. It's tasty cum. It's all over my beard.

Anton staggers backwards and plops in his chair. Robert, now naked, looks at me in surprise and rushes over. He's licking my face and beard. Stuff is everywhere. Fuck. Fuck.

Anton is breathing loudly but not panting. His dick is still hard. He wanks it and still more pours out of his piss slit. Robert is on it right away. He squeezes that dick, pumping it all out like a squeeze bottle, using both hands.

I stand up and watch Robert clean up. His dick is hard. So is mine. All this taste of cum and scent of it on my mustache and beard make me feel feral somehow. I walk to Anton and slap my dick on his chest. He loves this. He comes out of his haze and his eyes open really wide as I slap it again.

He wants to suck it. I get on my tip toes and it's the right height. Robert is sucking on Anton's hard dick. Robert wanks his foreskin; there's no way it's going between his teeth. It's just too fucking big.

Anton starts sucking on me, looking up at me with big brown eyes, an alarmed look in them.

"Stand up," I order. Anton complies. I put my hand on the fur of his muscled back and bend him over firmly.

"Robert. Get him ready."

Robert looks at me with excitement and gets behind Anton, and starts licking his trench. I bend over the table and grab the butter and coat my dick with it.

Robert looks luscious as he eagerly lubes up Anton butt with saliva. I move him out of the way.

My dick opens Anton's hole and I push. It's an oven in there. Half-way in, I hear those bass notes again. Fuck Yes. I slide further inside. Oven.

I reach the end of his tunnel. I'm going to make the turn. I move to the left a little, and push. I feel his inner colon yield to me. I'm far up Anton's rock solid ass and hole. YES. Yes. Ahhhhh. It is so hot in there. I am boning a large and beautiful man up his hot ass pipe, very deep inside his body, his guts re-arranged.

"Robert, hand me the butter."

I need some more. I slowly pull out half way and coat myself. Inside I laugh as the thought of adding those blueberry preserves sitting next to the butter, strikes me funny.

I sink back inside, all the fucking way until my balls feel his fur. Fuck Yes.

This is good. Really good. His ass feels wonderful on my thick dick. His bass notes are egging me on. I'm going to squirt soon.

Robert stands. Moves the wine and some plates and hoists his naked ass up on the table and bends over in front of Anton. I'm guessing he's done this before, but I don't care. He presents his ass to Anton, who grabs him and slides him across the table to himself. His head goes down as he eats Robert's butthole. Yeah, baby.

Fuck it. I squirt. I hose Anton's oven crazily. My balls lurch and he whimpers when he feels that new lube in his hole. Mmmmm Mmmmm.

I leave it inside. I might have more. I keep sawing in and out. Yes. My dick is trying to decide, then it quits.

"NEXT!" I yell to Robert. He scrambles off the table and is up Anton's ass like a magnet. Fucks him furiously, my cum flying all over. Anton does this breathy bass whimper and I poke Robert's slippery butt with my finger and he screams it out, looses it, and he's hosing Anton down, too. Hot damn.

Robert pounds and pounds and, panting like crazy, suddenly quits and backs off. Anton whimpers. Loudly.

There's this beautiful rock hard ass, all creamy, in front of me. So I do it.

Two fingers in the blueberry preserves and I shove my fingers in his cummy asshole and jam my face in there. Cum and blueberries. Fuck. Yes. There is a lot of cum-- and blueberries. Maybe I'll get fat. I don't care.

I wank Anton, who is hard again, as I use my tongue in unusual places, the taste of blueberries making me almost giggle. Then I'm gone. Fuck yes.

Robert straightens up, shakily. He turns. The expression on his face is not describable, something between surprise and lust. He is also boned. I grab the butter. Then I back up on that cannon of a dick and feel The Stretch. Anton's dick is insanely thick.

And I am such a fucking ho. I have to think. Concentrate. Let my ring relax.

He pops inside my slut butt. Yes! OMG it's like two fists! I sink and amazingly, my ring relaxes. This is gonna be GOOD.

I twerk on him. Pump him. Wank him with my butt. The pain is pretty strong, but then he starts hitting my gland. Nirvana ensues. Fuck. His dick is SO THICK and GOOD.

I bang back hard on his dick, feeling the huge pumping action. Robert stands in front of me and pinches my tits as we fuck. It will be a legendary fuck. I try to be in the moment. I want to feel The Zone.

My guts are twitching. The assgasm alarm has gone off and as I'm standing still, getting pumped perfectly, that inner twitching glow overtakes me. These are rare for me, the gland-punching full-body cums. It has arrived.

And Anton knows this, he cannot not know how my behind is twitching uncontrollably. He's gonna cum, too. Anton warns me again. I push back as hard as I can on his dick, driving it way inside me and I'm suddenly in a bear hugs as he pounds me and YES! I'm getting bred by that super-thick dick. YES YES YES.

He stops. Inside. There are Pulses. Mine. His. I feel him shrink a little. Another pulse. Anton releases me from the bear hug.

I'm sure I'm pregnant. Fuck, yes. I am so wet in my ass. There is no chance of trapping all that cum.

Anton disconnects. I have been rutted. It is GOOD. Robert kisses the fuck out of me and squeezes my dick; I squeeze his. Anton is propped up against the edge of the heavy wood table. I have not seen his dick in the drooped position. It is beautiful. His foreskin now hides him. He looks like an animal, sweating, smiling, breathing a bit hard.

His smile is as wide as mine.

He looks at the jar of preserves.

"Tasty?" he asks. We all laugh.

* * *

It's just past dawn. I'm riding a bit funny, my ass sore as hell. I'm doing a steeple chase. The bars are low. I'm dressed up in strange foreign gear that doesn't quite fit me.

I do three runs. I might be good at this. My ride is experienced and knows the drill. I make only one small mistake. My ass is sore anyway.

Robert is fancy pants, looking good, and rides like a champ. Effortless. Several other riders make us look like the amateurs we are. The chevaliers are proud. I do saddle swirls, despite the soreness of my butt. They've never seen a handstand running dismount before.

It's all fun and these are happy people. There's this young fella that looks like a miniature Robert. Can't be 5'1". Furry and shaves his head. Twin earrings. Cute lips. Gets as close as he can. Accidentally rubs his butt on me. I want to take him around a corner and nail him, but it would not be so.

Short as this man is, he is tall in the saddle. Fredrich. He is limber as fuck. I sigh. I'd like to bend and twist him but the schedule gets tighter.

Sadly, we're leaving. We have an early flight home. Robert tugs me away.

We're sitting in a cafe in Paris, Le Marais, watching men go by. Robert is sad. He likes to be here, but he has to fly back to LA. His flight is non-stop, as is mine, if back to Denver.

I was stunned to see him light up a cigarette, but everyone smokes here, at least for now. He only puffs a few, and grinds it. Washes it down with wine.

Many cute men walk by, cruising each other. They're all sizes, mostly skinny, all races, every dimension of man. A few ladies here and there. Rent boys. Robert orders us dinner and we eat like starved people. I get used to the habit of eating with two hands.

We go walking. I spy two guys fucking in an alley. We pause to watch them. They don't care. The guy in a leather vest nuts fast up the butt of a man in a waiter uniform and takes off. The guy standing there slowly bends up and hikes up his pants, folds wads of Euros in his pocket, looking at us. He waves and goes off in the same direction.

Robert looks at me.

"I wanna get fucked like that. Fuck me there. Now. Please."

"No lube."

"Lick me. Make me wet. Fuck me. Please?"

We go to the same spot. I yank down his pants and push Robert not-gently against the wall. I lick his sweaty butt. Lots of spit. More spit on my dick. I shove him hard against the wall.

It takes only a second and he opens up. I fuck him. He's burning hot. Somehow, he feels lubed so I go all the way up his hole and he yells out. I let him get used to the invasion.

Some guys walk past on the street and stop and stare. I bone Robert fast. Hard.

"You want my nut, slut?" I yell, louder than normal. I want my voyeurs to hear it.

"FUCK YES!" he yells back at me. I pump like a diesel. Big. Damn. Nut. Cummin.

On my other side, a guy walks up to us, and whips out his dick. He might be stoned. Strange for this region, he's uncut, a skinny long dick. I yank Robert away from the wall and bend him over. He immediately sucks that dick. Now it's getting good. I feel my nuts churn.

The guy cums fast as he watches me bone Robert. Robert almost chokes on it as the guy juts his dick deep down Robert's throat. The guy turns and walks off, hastily, tucking his dick. I grab Robert's hips hard.

And NUT. It's a good nut. Fast and furious. I grab Robert's tshirt collar and pull him up. I pullout of his ass, twist his body hard and kiss the fuck out of him. He's breathless. Almost swoons. I catch him. I pull up his drawers and tuck his dick in. Push him against the wall and liplock him, smashing him against the brick. Our voyeurs toddle off.

If you could bottle the look of lust on his face, you'd be a billionaire.

He buckles up. I grab him by his neck chains and yank him out of the alley. Soon we blend in with the cruisers. He is dazed. I am feeling pretty studly. As we walk around, the daze just doesn't quit on his face. Looks stoned himself.

I sit us down at a cafe. He looks at me so strangely.

Finally, he sort of snaps out of it. Speaks.

"That was exactly what I needed, Joe. Fucked in an alley in the Marais. Taken like a bitch-boy slut. Big dick up my ass. A random dick in my whore mouth, shooting nasty goo. For a million men, this is a low in their life. For me, it's a high. I'm so fucking high, Joe. Drunk on your big dick...."

He wouldn't shutup. He finally sat back as the waiter came over. Babbled something. Moments later, another bottle of wine appears, and a cheese tray and seltzer for me. I laughed. It had blueberries on it.

Five in the morning is early. My flight leaves first. Robert hugs me for a long time. We stand there. Then I'm gone.

Hours later, I'm driving out of Denver, this filled-yet-empty feeling inside.

The stables are nasty. They need a serious clean job. They have not been well-maintained in my absence. I clean the fuck out of them the until the entire joint smells like bleach and the laundry is folded and stacked. A box of apples are well spent on my herd, who missed me much. I run them. They need it. I'm sorta wiped.

There's a damn Amazon truck that pulls up to the lodge. Bunch of boxes. One of them is for me. It feels unusually cold for a summer day.

I take it back down to the stables and my love shack. I open it up.

Two pounds of blueberries are inside with a dry ice pack. from some fru fru online grocery.

The note says: From Anton, with love.