Cowboy Sandwich

Chapter 1-2

Outside in the car park, Barry shivered and wished he’d put on a jacket. There was a definite chill in the air. He guessed autumn evenings in the mountains were like that. Looking around, he couldn’t see the two cowboys. Surely he hadn’t missed them already.

He walked around a corner and still no sign of Red and Blue. Deciding he may as well go back to the guesthouse, he turned another corner and thought he saw something in the entrance to an alleyway. It was almost pitch dark, and Barry, fearing for his safety, started to turn around to retrace his steps. He heard a low moan and curiosity won out over caution. Approaching as quietly as he could, the shape in the darkness slowly began to resolve itself. Was it Red and Blue? They were sure standing real close to each other. Then the moon came out from behind a cloud. It was Red and Blue. They were kissing. He should turn back. This was none of his business, but, oh, God. Both men were amazing specimens of manly cowboy perfection and…

“Come on, man, lemme in that sweet lil ass,” Blue’s voice, all low and gravelly, pleaded. “It’s sooo fuckin’ tight and I need in it so bad.”

Barry’s d**k, which had been half-hard ever since clapping eyes on the two studs, sprang instantly to full bone. He really should leave. If they caught him, they’d pound his arse into the ground. The mental images that brought up had Barry stifling a moan.

“Nah, man,” Red said, running his hands over Blue’s arse. “I’m gonna get me some of this tight ass tonight. It’s Friday and I always get me some of this on Fridays. It’s, like, tradition.”

“Then it’s time we got a new tradition ’cause I’m not giving it up tonight. I wanna do the fucking.”

Barry’s briefs grew wet as he heard and saw the two alpha dogs jockey for dominance.

The men fell silent as they hungrily ate each other’s faces. The slurping and moaning were better than any porno soundtrack. Barry just had to get closer. It was a good thing there were no security lights back there. Unless Blue and Red looked directly at him, Barry was reasonably sure he wouldn’t be seen. Peeking round a dumpster, Barry got to within about ten meters of the action. Seeing two big, muscular cowboy studs rubbing against each other while they sucked face was so hot. His hand drifted to his hard d**k. God, had he ever been any harder than he was now?

“Gonna f**k you so hard you won’t be able to ride a horse for a week,” Blue growled between wet kisses.

“I’ll plow your man-p***y so deep you’ll be singing hallelujah and praying I’ll never stop,” Red replied, ramping up the s****l tension.

Barry thought the two studs were generating enough heat between them the air would burst into flame any second.

“Nah, man,” Blue panted. “It’ll be you singing my praises when I f**k you into the middle of next week. I’ll pork you so fuckin’ hard every cucumber, large carrot or candle will remind you of my big dick.”

Okay, so the porn talk was cheesy, but it was also hot as hell. Barry was rubbing himself so hard he was gonna c*m any second.

Red’s chuckle was transformed into a moan of pleasure when Blue began to bite the side of his neck. Recovering somewhat, Red panted, “Don’t know about cucumbers or carrots, but if you want to f**k something so bad I could ask Billy Ray if you can borrow his vacuum.”

Barry let out a bark of laughter. This instantly had Blue and Red breaking apart and staring in his direction. Oh s**t! He thought.

“Who’s there!” Blue demanded, instantly going into the fighting stance he’d adopted in the bar.

Barry thought about staying in the shadows, hoping the two cowboys would lose interest in him and get back to the rubbing and kissing.

“Show yourself!” Blue shouted.

It was just like in the westerns he used to watch with his granddad. The sheriff demanding that the bank robbers come out with their hands up. With heart thumping, knees knocking, and prick so hard he could hammer nails with it, Barry stepped out from behind the dumpster. “Sorry,” he said little above a whisper. He began to raise his hands but caught himself before they got above waist height.

“What the f**k,” Red said.

“Who the f**k are you?” Blue asked.

“Uh, Barry. Barry Logan. I, uh…” Barry swallowed. “I saw you both in the bar…think you’re so hot,” he babbled. “And I’d be happy, heck, honored if you’d let me, I mean…” He knew he should shut the f**k up; he was already in a deep hole and should stop digging. “You can f**k me, both of you.”

Blue stood frozen, fists still clenched. Red seemed a touch more relaxed but Barry bet he could spring into action sooner than Barry could say ‘ride me, cowboy.’ Neither man spoke and Barry grew nervous.

“I, uh, I should…Sorry. I’ll, uh…” Barry took a couple of steps backward and turned to flee. Stupid, stupid, stupid! he told himself as he picked up speed and rounded the corner back into the car park. Was he that desperate for cowboy c**k that he’d started begging for it in dark alleys now?

He heard the crunch of gravel behind him. Barry was about to break into a run when something clamped itself onto his right shoulder. He let out a girly squeal before he was brought to a halt. He tried freeing himself but the grip tightened and became painful.

“I’m sorry,” Barry panted, too scared to turn around and face his attackers. Not that the strong grip on his shoulder would have allowed much movement. “I just thought I might be able to help you two out, with your uh, problem and so I…” He started to shiver. He was cold as well as scared.

The grip on Barry’s shoulder loosened but a second hand came to rest on his other shoulder. Red walked around and faced Barry. The hands, which had begun to massage Barry’s shoulders, must have belonged to Blue.

“You’re not from around here,” Red said.

With the amazing massage, it took Barry a couple of seconds to process the question. Here he was, no doubt being softened up to have the s**t kicked out of him, and they were commenting on his accent. “Uh, no, I’m from England.”

Red nodded in understanding.

Barry felt himself being pulled back against Blue’s firm, broad chest. “You mean it?” Blue’s low, deep voice sent shivers down Barry’s spine.

“Uh, yeah, I’m definitely from England. Yorkshire actually, that’s in the North.”

Barry felt the brim of a cowboy hat brush his right cheek and warm breath ghost over his ear. “No, darlin’, I meant the fuck.”

“Huh?” Barry didn’t understand.

Strong, blue flannel-clad arms wrapped themselves around his chest and his arse was pressed into something hard and very very big. Instantly Barry’s chills went away and were replaced by a flush of heat. He trembled.

Red snickered. “What my dumbass partner meant was, did you mean it about letting him…us, f**k you?”

Suddenly the light bulb in his head came on. Barry swallowed and nodded enthusiastically. He opened his mouth to speak but his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth. He nodded again to indicate his agreement.

From beneath his Stetson, Red’s face broke into one of the most beautiful smiles Barry had ever seen. The guy had dimples that had Barry’s knees going weak.

Blue ground his hard d**k into Barry’s eager arse. Were they going to f**k here in the car park? That would be hot, but... “I’ve got a room,” Barry groaned as Red’s hands began rubbing Barry’s hips and were starting to move inward. “It’s at, uh…” He couldn’t think straight, not with two hot studs doing sexy things to him. “Mrs. Tanner’s guesthouse.” Oh, Yes! Red’s hands had reached their target and Barry was trying to thrust forward into the touch but was held back by Blue’s hands which were gripping his hips. “Please.”

From behind him, Blue snickered. “Eager, darlin?”

“Yes.” Barry saw no point in lying about it. He wanted these two men in the worst way.

“Patience,” Red said, treating Barry to another of his devastating smiles. “We’ll take you back to the ranch. We—”

“—have chores in the morning,” Blue finished and ground his super-hard d**k into Barry’s arse, making him moan.

“And the walls of Mrs. Tanner’s rooms are kinda thin,” Red said, increasing the rubbing on Barry’s d**k, making Barry moan even louder.

“We don’t want folks to get the wrong, uh, right idea when they hear you scream out our names—”

“—when we f**k the c*m out of you.”

“Oh, yes,” Barry whimpered.

Blue took a half step back and Barry would have collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap if Red and Blue hadn’t been there to hold him up. As they walked across the car park, presumably to their vehicle, Barry being flanked on either side, he remembered something he’d thought about in the bar.

Before he could engage his brain-mouth filter, he asked, “Are you two brothers?”

Both men chuckled.

“Nope. But we’ve known each other since forever,” Red said.

“Grew up on neighboring ranches. Were in the same grade at school.”

“Were in all the same classes.” Blue turned and held out his right hand to Barry. “Jimmy Wilson. And that ugly-ass cowboy on your other side is Jake Pierce.”

“Who you callin’ ugly, asswipe?” Red…Jake fired back. “At least my face doesn’t stop traffic.”

“It stops traffic ’cause no one can believe how fuckin’ handsome I am.”

“You wish! More likely they stop because they’re wonderin’ why the doctor who delivered you didn’t slap your momma rather than you when she gave birth to your fugly ass.”

Barry felt like he was the sole spectator at a tennis match, but realized the insults weren’t meant and had probably been hurled many times before.

“Here we are,” Jake said, stopping in front of a small, gray pickup truck.

They were cowboys, so of course they’d drive a pickup. At least there wasn’t a gun rack in the back window.

“Still got the keys, dogbreath? Or did you lose them like you did last week?” Jake asked.

“f**k you,” Jimmy fired back. “You were the one who’d put them in the silverware drawer. Did you ever know anyone, Barry, who put keys with the knives and forks?”

Barry shook his head.

“Whatever.” Jake sighed dramatically. “If you still have them, then hand ’em over. I’m driving.” He held out his hand.

“No, I’m driving,” Jimmy insisted.

“You drove here.”

“And I’ve got the keys.” Jimmy tossed the keys in the air and caught them again. “And I’m keeping them.” He grinned over at Jake.

Barry tried not to roll his eyes. Did it matter who drove? Looking into the small truck cab with its two bucket seats, he said, “If Jimmy’s driving then it looks like I’ll be sitting on your lap, Jake.”

Back came Jake’s amazing smile.

“Here, you can drive,” Jimmy said, trying to hand the keys to Jake, who ignored him.

Jake grasped Barry’s wrist and walked him around to the passenger’s door.