Cowboy's Christmas Page 2

  Blake's handsome image returned in his mind as he exited onto I-5. The second he set his eyes on the rough and tough cowboy, he’d felt heat twirling and building in his loins.

  The first time Riley saw Blake, amidst the background and excitement of a state fair one summer night, entered his mind. Blake had sauntered up to him and began a conversation about horses. He said he saw Riley bustin' a bronc at the Washington State Fair the previous year. At twenty four, the man's hawk-like, dark eyes and flawless skin had toyed with Riley's imagination. Blake removed the Stetson from his short, raven hair that had been styled to perfection, fitting his warm personality and white smile. His chiseled jaw line gave him an aristocratic appearance. He wore faded, torn jeans, tight around his torso, and a western shirt unsnapped at the neckline to reveal a few sprigs of hair peeking above the lowest dip of the V. How many mornings did he wake up rock hard, thinking of Blake's onyx gaze and beefed up body?

  Does he lift weights? It shows that he cares about his appearance.

  As he recalled their first moments together, tingling sensations spiraled through his loins. Christ, I can still smell his clean scent, and feel his rough hands sliding over my bare skin.

  Riley recalled the night they discovered their fifth wheels sat parked next to each other at the campgrounds in Kalama, and the vivid memory washed over him.

  The rodeo season had just ended, and the time to drive home had arrived and passed, but they stayed on. They talked, played cards and cooked for each other. A day merged into two days, then several days passed and soon a week approached. Neither man made a move to leave.

  Moody, inky clouds clung to the brooding sky above the lodgepole pines that surrounded their trailers. One night, they bar-b-qued chicken on a campfire and drank beer while discussing their upbringing and times they spent camping as kids. The truth be known, after drinking a case of beer, they held hands and kissed, but hadn't carried their lust into the bedroom.

  After they ate and cleaned up, a sharp pain low in Riley's back threatened to send him inside, moaning in pain. Not wanting to end their pleasant evening so early, he put his beer down and walked around the small area between their trucks, trying to ease the stiffness.

  "Ow, damn it. I wish I'd never gone into bustin' broncs. I've done messed up my body. In the state I’m in, I'd fail at a desk job, too."

  Blake stepped up, hugged him and asked in a low voice, "Why don't you let me take care of you tonight?" His hands left Riley's shoulders.

  The suggestion peaked Riley's interest, but he still experienced severe apprehension. He knew the pain would resume the next day no matter what Blake did. Blake wants to rub me down as much as I want him to do it. Riley had shrugged as his penis twitched to life. "Where?" His heartbeat quickened and his knees weakened.

  With a head motion toward his trailer, Blake asked in a suggestive tone, "Inside, Riley. On my bed. I've got good hands."

  You've got more than good hands, partner. He couldn't deny that the idea of climbing onto a bed with Blake turned him on. "I dunno."

  "Let me know when you're ready."

  Feeling a little embarrassed, he said, "Okay."

  A few minutes later, after a slow, cold December rain wet their jackets and shirts, and their discussion quieted, Riley succumbed to the inviting suggestion, because he didn't want to call it a night. Not just yet. He wanted to spend more time with Blake. The chemistry seemed almost tangible.

  Blake flicked his cigarette into the fire, winked at him and strolled to the steps of his trailer. "C'mon then."

  Riley sighed, thought about it for a moment and followed.

  "You go in first."

  A little nervous, Riley went inside and looked around the tidy but small living space. In one corner, he saw a shower.

  "Go ahead. Don't be afraid. You can undress, if ya want." Blake grasped and turned the off-on button. The television silenced.

  He put his hands on his hips and put his weight on his left leg. "I ain't afraid of nothin.'"

  Blake shrugged. "Didn't figure you were."

  The tan bedspread didn't bear a wrinkle until he sat on its edge. He removed his boots and socks and stuffed them down into the leather tops while Blake also took his boots off. The thick carpeting tickled the bottoms of his feet. He stood up, unfastened his belt buckle and slid it from the loops of his Levi’s thinking that maybe a back rub will feel good.

  Blake began unfastening his own shirt, baring his muscular chest. "Put your clothes on the chair and lay down."

  The idea of lying naked before Blake unnerved him in a thrilling sort of way. Since the first moment he'd met him, he knew they'd get together sexually, but he didn't know how or when it would take place. Nevertheless, he unsnapped his shirt all the way and yanked the tails from under his jeans' waistband. Blake sat on the edge of the bed and tugged his footwear off. Each boot landed on a soft rug with a dull thud.

  "That's okay. Take your shorts off. I'm going to use gel and don't want to get any your clothes. I'm taking mine off, too."

  Very, very reluctantly, Riley hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his gray boxers and pulled them to the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed beside Blake before scooting over and lying on his stomach, not knowing what to expect, and realizing it seemed very gay what they were about to do.

  Blake brought out a white, drawstring bag and pulled out a bottle of lotion, loosened the lid and squirted some gel on Riley's back, giving him the chills. He began pressing and plying as Riley moaned his delight. Blake spread the liquid all over Riley's upper back. His hands moved in soothing circles, and his fingers kneaded his skin as though it was bread dough. He reached for the bottle again, squirted more lotion, and rubbed it into his lower back.

  Riley winced in pain, needing more of his back rub. "Aaaah."

  "Relax, honey," Blake said, putting hands on Riley's shoulders.

  He massaged him for a few minutes, paused and put more gel onto his hand. Blake wiped a glob on Riley's hip. "I need to massage down here too and work my way up. Don't bolt on me."

  "I'm afraid you'll make me hot." Riley squinched his eyes closed and mashed his face into the pillow, trying to relax.

  In a soft voice, Blake echoed his thoughts. "I get hot from doing it to you. It's nothing. It happens."

  After dousing Riley's ass cheeks, Blake grasped one hip in each hand and massaged by pushing them together and then spreading them. He continued until the sides of his hands moved against Riley's ball sacs. Riley sucked in a noisy breath, relieved he was face down, hiding his nine inch arousal.

  Blake's deep voice broke into his thoughts. "How does it feel?"

  "You had to ask, didn't you?"

  "Yep."

  His hands roamed up and down his spine, eliciting a groan. He kneaded away more knots of tension and pain, pressing hard into the aching spots with his strong fingers.

  "This makes it feel better," Riley said during a long, noisy exhalation.

  Blake playfully smacked his ass, laughed and continued the life-altering rub down. His voice turned husky. "Riley, you feel good to the touch."

  "I like you doing this."

  His finger began probing Riley's asshole, while the other hand continued to coat the gel all over his bottom. "How about this? Do you like it?" He pressed two fingers loaded with the lube up into him.

  "Oh, yes." Riley turned his head off the pillow and glimpsed Blake's hardened eight to nine inch cock. It amazed him how it thickened and grew so much like his own. Tortured in pleasure and need, Riley began to push his bottom up against Blake's hand, forgetting his aching back and his preconceived ideas about having sex with a man, seeking full penetration. Blake climbed onto the back of his thighs, his cock brushing up against his bottom. Sensations shot though his body like an arrow as Blake worked one, and two fingers, in and out of him.

  "You like this, don't you, darlin'?”

  Forgetting all about his sore back, Riley rasped out his words. “Oh, God, yes.”

 
"Your body's perfect for fuckin,' hon," Blake whispered, adding fuel to the already leaping flames.

  "I need it, Blake."

  "Me too."

  He slid another finger into his ass, causing Riley's need, as well as his heart rate to increase. A groan left his lips. "Have you ever done this, Blake?"

  "With a man, you mean? Sex?"

  "Yeah, I suppose so." Blake continued to finger fuck him.

  "Well, I haven't been with anyone other than a woman."

  Suddenly, Blake's cock head replaced his fingers. He pressed further up between his ass cheeks, a mere fraction of an inch into his hole.

  "I'll keep that in mind," Blake said. “I’ll go gentle.”

  A green sign with large white lettering appeared at the right side of the road, bringing Riley back to the present. He left the erotic scene that Blake and he shared several years earlier, their first time fucking. The sign read: Kalama Next Exit.

  The wiper blades batted the newly fallen rain off the windshield. His jeans tightened at his now uncomfortable crotch, causing him to smile. He remembered that the subsequent sessions of sex with Blake included similar but different foreplay. He couldn't wait to see him again, to feel his body against his own.

  Chapter Four

  As Blake strode into the eating establishment, he glanced around at the December rain crystallized on the window. He deposited his Levi jacket on a coat hook.

  Several men’s heads turned his way and eyed him. A couple who sat in a window booth nodded their welcome.

  "How're ya doin?'" Blake asked with a smile.

  Two or three others in the dining room said, “Hello,” and “How’re ya doin’?” making him feel comfortable.

  A bus passed on the road outside and a cop car pulled up and parked. The place smelled of cinnamon rolls, pies and coffee, and the men who sat at the tables and counters talked quietly. The jukebox played a country song that Blake couldn't recognize. The neon green Lone Pine Cafe sign flashed—Fine Dining at its Best.

  Blake put his hat on an empty chair, sat down at a vacated table and read the menu for thirty seconds or so until a waitress walked up. Poised to write on a green pad, she asked, “You know what you want?"

  "Uh, yeah. Bring me a…burger and fries. And uh, a Coke. Put everything on the burger."

  "All righty," the brunette, heavily made up waitress said in a floral tone. Soon, she brought a straw and a plastic glass of Coke and ice and placed them on the red checkered tabletop before him. He barely realized it, though.

  When will Riley show up? He should be close. The last time I gave him a jingle on the cell, he’d just crossed the state line going out of California and into Oregon.

  Behind the counter a black, plastic Felix the Cat clock, with its tail wagging left and right, read eleven-thirteen. Maybe I'll eat then call him. Well, maybe and maybe not.

  Fifteen to twenty minutes passed and the woman, who wore a white nametag that read Kellie, lowered a grilled hamburger plate, the green guest check and a napkin from the pocket of her apron to the table. "Enjoy your lunch."

  "Thank you, Ma'am."

  “You’re welcome,” she said in a suggestive tone and then strode to the waitress station and plucked up a plastic pitcher.

  Blake sipped his drink, brought the hamburger to his lips and took a healthy bite. Is she flirting? If she is, I’m so not interested. A red, Chevy pick up towing a white travel trailer toward Marty's Trailer Spaces caught his attention. Riley's in town, he thought, smiling. He felt his cock straining against the seam of his jeans, thinking of his friend’s awesome appeal, his sexy, dark gaze and smirky grin. His heart rate quickened. Thoughts of his friend kept him awake at night and his dick hard. I'll eat and go see ol' Ril.'

  Twenty minutes after he passed through town, Riley paid two weeks in advance at the campsite office and soon backed into the space he rented adjacent Blake's trailer. The campsites would stay vacant until April, he figured. Blake's truck's not here, but his trailer is. So, I know he's come to meet me. But where the hell is he? Riley glanced around at the empty trailer spaces and the quiet, gravel road that skirted the wilderness.

  Rain dripped off his hat and onto the front of his rawhide jacket as he hooked up the trailer to the services. It'll be a long, cold night if he didn't show up. He unlocked the door, went inside and turned on the heat. Once finished, he returned to his truck and locked it up. The sound of tires crunching rocks caught his attention. Blake's truck made its way up the lane and parked.

  "Just as I figured. Right on time."

  He kept his eyes on Blake as he climbed down from the cab and shut the door. Riley marveled at his attire; a brown suede thigh-length jacket and matching Stetson. The man looked good. "How're ya doin?'" Riley asked, nodded and grinned. "You're a sight for sore eyes.”

  "Just fine. And you?" Blake asked, while his line of vision flitted down Riley's tall body.

  His voice turned suggestive. "Mine just got a whole lot finer."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yeah." Blake crooked a finger. "Bring your hot body over here."

  Riley stepped up to him and planted a kiss onto his waiting lips. Their tongues tangled for a few seconds before they parted.

  "Want something to eat?" he whispered.

  “You.”

  Blake grinned and dragged a thumb over Riley's lower lip. "How about a drink?"

  I love his masculine, musky scent today. "Beer?" Riley felt himself stiffening up, straining against the seam of his jeans.

  "Sounds good."

  "It's pourin' down. Let's go inside and get cozy."

  "Lead the way." Riley reached around and groped his ass. I can tell we're not going to get a second of sleep tonight.

  Chapter Five

  Five beers and three hours of rodeo chat later, Riley placed his hands on Blake's thigh and pulled him in for a kiss. I can tell this Christmas season is going to be special. Bein' with Blake is always special, though.

  Once they drank the last of the beer, they crossed the room hand in hand and stopped beside the bed, where they stripped down to their briefs. Lying next to each other on the bed that filled most of the one room travel trailer, Riley began rubbing the bulge in Blake's briefs and feathered his throat with kisses. Rising on all fours over Blake, he pulled the man’s shirt over his head began licking his nipples and resumed massaging Blake's phallus through the fabric. Riley's lips left Blake's breast and he breathed the words, "I love your scent when we’re fucking." He slid his hand under the waistband and began to fondle Blake's cock and balls. "It's been a while," he said. "I missed you like Hell, don’t you know."

  "I'll bet you say that to all the cowpokes you run into, right?" he asked in his deep, husky voice, and blushing like a new bride.

  "Just you." Riley leaned and dimmed the lights another notch.

  "I'm glad."

  He brought his hands from under the elastic, hooked his thumbs at each side to draw the white garment down Blake's hair dappled legs and got down between his thighs. The sight of that delicious bulge turned him on. With each movement of his knees, the mattress depressed and rose. Riley's firm member bobbed for Blake's visual enjoyment. "Let me take special care of you."

  "God knows, I need it."

  Riley put his head down and probed Blake's balls with his tongue, inhaling the manly scent of him—hot male muskiness. He licked the head of the pulsing cock, paying special attention to the sensitive slit. Without thinking, and becoming more and more aroused, Riley sucked it, his lips moving up and down the length of the shaft while moans escaped Blake's lips.

  Riley felt a sticky wetness on his tongue. His latent, lewd, oral assault continued and Blake writhed in place. Riley took his mouth off the quivering end. "You taste good."

  "God, Ril', your lips...they feel so...ahhh....there ain’t no words."

  "Doin' this is like primin' a pump, I've come to find out." He resumed suckling. His mouth rose off the end. In a husky voice, he asked, "I hope I’m hittin' all your right
buttons about now."

  "Mmmm. Hell, yeah, you are."

  A drop of white cream oozed from the end, so Riley lowered his mouth back onto the corona, licked it from the slit, enjoying the salty taste. He blew cool air onto the sensitive head, giving him the shivers. "Fuck me, babe," he murmured with urgency as he caressed Blake's stomach and thighs. "Let's get the first one out of our system."

  Blake pulled Riley's underwear down his body and tossed the garment onto a nearby chair. He moved up on Riley’s body, his intent clear. His tongue pushed between Riley’s lips, going deep into his mouth. Riley turned on his side, his back to Blake, enticing him.

  * * * *

  Blake, now on his knees, reached into a drawer, pulled out a condom and sheathed himself. "I'm needin' this so bad." He scooted up tight against Riley and moved the sensitive head against the butt cheeks. Using great care, he slipped himself into Riley's tight hole. At the sheer pleasure, Blake uttered a grunt. The wonderful squeezing sensation gave him immeasurable pleasure as he shoved himself deep inside Riley's beautiful and accommodating ass. Exhilarated and enjoying the moment, he stilled and pressed a kiss to his lover's back. His lover’s butt cheeks pressed up against his pubic bone.

  Riley's harsh, raspy moan yielded to a soft "mmmm."

  Their bodies glistened with sweat. Blake's breaths quickened as he gently thrust and retreated. Blake reached around, pinched Riley's nipples, slid his hands down his the lean torso and gripped his lover’s cock while kissing his shoulder. Blake massaged Riley's shaft in between the rough pushes the thrusts and strokes grew harder and faster, and orgasm time for them neared.

  "Dear God,” Blake whispered breathily into Riley's ear. ”I've waited for this for months."

  Riley tensed and when he did, the muscles in his ass contracted, squeezing Blake's throbbing cock even more. He pumped, his rhythm fast and relentless. "Oh, hell, baby." Obsessed with finding his peak, Blake pummeled him in the ass. In a few seconds, Blake drew air deep into his lungs, tightened and shot his scalding, potent load. He possessed Riley fully and rode the rippling waves of supreme pleasure.