Gay Erotic Stories

Swirls of snow driven by a fierce wind rose from the street like small tornadoes as Destiny coaxed his mare through the growing drifts. Puffs of steam froze into crystals of ice on the horses muzzle and below his nose as the storm tore at their faces.

He pulled the collar of his duster in closer to his neck.

To his right Cultrane saw what was left of Gibson’s saloon; just a single blackened wall and a pile of snow-covered, charred timbers scattered in the big lot. Next to it a large canvas tent, with a stove pipe protruding from the top, flopped wildly in the winter wind. A sign reading ‘Saloon’ swayed over the front flap. He gave it no more than half a thought before riding on to the hotel further down the street. Even though it was the middle of the day there was no one on the wide street and impotent yellow lantern light already spread from the window of the sheriff’s office as he passed. He tied the mare at the side of the building, out of the wind and stepped up onto the wide boardwalk.

A gust of wind drove a swirling flurry of snow into the warm lobby with him and it melted on the floor as he pulled off his hat and beat it against his coat. Motes of snow dropped from where they had been clinging to the duster into puddles around his boots. There was no one at the desk so he made his way past a glowing pot-bellied stove and into the small bar-room off the lobby. The room smelled of sweet pinion smoke and tobacco.

He slowly pulled a gloved hand back through his shoulder length golden hair.

“Well...I’ll be damned. What brings you here on a day like today, Cully? Come in...get warm. What can I get ya’?” Gus Drake welcomed him from behind the short bar. Gus owned the hotel but usually manned both stations.

“Hey Gus...yeah, it’s been a while...Whiskey. Hell of a storm out there...really bad around the Pass.” Cultrane downed the poured shot, shucked off the big, wet coat and hung it with his saddle bag by the door. He adjusted his chaps and gun-belt up on his trim hips. Pulling a damp cheroot from his shirt pock, he lit it and blew a cloud of blue smoke into the still air as he leaned against the bar. He and his friend were alone in the place.

“Got a room and a bath, Gus?”

“A dozen. Take number 16...top of the stairs. My boy’ll bring water and I’ll have him take care of your horse.” He poured two more drinks and tapped Destiny’s glass with his own.

“Obliged. Town looks the same. What happened to Gibson’s?”

“ ‘boot six months ago a few of Greisen’s boys got carried away, got to shootin’ it up and the place caught fire. Burned to the ground.” He wiped a dirty rag across the bar surface, looking out the window at the whirling snow.

“Shooting? Thought Ben didn’t allow no shooting in town.” Destiny snickered.

“Cully...Ben’s been dead almost a year and a half, now,” he said as the lawman gaped at him.

Ben never left Destiny’s mind as he climbed the wide staircase and found his room. He had liked the older man. He had been a good man and a fine, honest sheriff. Gus also told him the town had appointed Rory Newsom, the deputy, to the post Ben’s death had left vacant. Rory was a good deputy, and like Cultrane, had been a gunfighter before turning lawman.

He unlocked the door to number 16, dropped his traps on the bed and pulled off his wet boots.

The room, like everything in Gus’s hotel was clean and neat, nicely decorated and comfortable. A small stove set in the corner had been lit some time before and gave off waves of welcome heat.

While Cultrane peered at himself in a big mirror above the low dressing table and rubbed the thick stubble darkening his face, he decided it was time for a shave and a hair cut. He’d see the barber in the morning. Then, shucking off his shirt, he passed his hand casually through the mat of light brown fur decorating the slabs of his chest before unbuttoning his damp pants and slicking them down his long legs and off his feet. He tucked a large towel around his waist, grabbed his revolver from the gun belt and headed toward the bathroom at the end of the broad hall. He never went anywhere without his gun.

The boy had just finished filling the large copper tub with steamy water when he accepted a coin and smiled weakly at the big lawman as he ducked back out the door.

Slipping off the towel, Destiny pulled the clean commode from the bottom shelf of the washstand. He straddled the white bowl and watched as a broad golden stream of piss arced from the tip of his uncut cock and splashed into the porcelain pot. When he had finished he stroked the pink foreskin back and forward over the bold head until his cock had begun to thicken. He sighed aloud, but decided to go no further.

It felt good, allowing the warm water to soak the penetrating cold from his body. For a long while Destiny just sat there, puffing on another small cigar and relaxing. Then, gradually thoughts of Ben Davis crept back into his mind.

Gus had said he had been found shot somewhere out near the pass. He didn’t know much more than that. Destiny decided to visit his office the next morning also.

As the water cooled Destiny thoroughly washed his big frame and rinsed before pulling himself from the tub. When he had dried he stepped into the hall and made his way back to his room, the big towel again wrapped around his middle.

Suddenly, the heavy tread of boots on the wooden stairs alerted him just as he was fitting his key into the lock. The figure of a man wearing a broad coat and a flat brimmed hat was obscured by the shadows at the top of the stairs. Cultrane felt the weight of the gun in his fist as he eased back the hammer, ready for anything.

With one step Rory Newsom’s smiling face emerged from the darkened space. His handsome dark mustaches curled up with his full lips.

“Rory...for Christ sake, man...I might’ve shot ya,” exclaimed the marshal.

“Take it easy, stud. I give up.” The former deputy raised his hands in mock surrender and chuckled. “Come on, get that door open. It looks like you got somethin’ for me.” He casually let his hand fall to the arc of Destiny’s cock pressing against the fabric of the towel. “Um hum... you really do have something I want.”

“How’s your wife?” Destiny teased as he closed the door and locked it behind him.

“Abby’s fine...matter of fact, she sent me to bring you to supper. But, I think we should eat something first.” He pulled off his coat and vest and began opening his shirt.

Destiny had noticed the large sheriff’s star pinned to his chest.

“It didn’t take long for you ‘ta find out I was in town.” Destiny pulled the towel from his waist and stood naked before his old friend. His cock flexed up and stretched out over his balls.

“You know Gus...he probably had that boy of his over to my office before you had your second drink.” He hung his gun belt over the back of a chair, unbuttoned his pants and peeled them down his hair covered legs. “You coming to Brushrock is news, at least to me, Cully.” Rory held his hardening cock up in one hand while he jostled his balls with the other.

Destiny took a moment to look him over. He had been a handsome boy who had grown into a magnificent man.

He was just a bit shorter than Cultrane but thick and muscular in his frame with a deep, furry chest that tapered down into a ripped belly and then to his slim hips. An unruly shock of black hair capped his head and a several day old beard framed his comely features. His sparkling eyes were dark as any Destiny had seen, a trait passed from his Indian mother. His thick dick was cut and dark and a deep, full bag swayed between his thighs as he crossed the rug.

Destiny was already breathing hard when Rory laid a rough hand on the side of his neck and silently drew his face into his own. Their kiss was long and wet, their tongues colliding while one breathed for the other. He mashed his body against Cultrane, rubbing hard into him, trapping his steely cock beside Destiny’s own rampant member. Gradually he smoothed his palms from Cultrane’s shoulders, down over the flexing muscles of his back and loins and onto the solid mounds of his butt. Destiny moaned as firm fingers dug into the cleft of his ass and ignited sensations deep in his body. His cock lurched against the muscular belly, depositing a dollop of pre-cum between them.

Rory bent, licking and nibbling at Destiny’s fresh, clean skin from his neck to his chest and out to each erect nipple in turn, drawing the tight nubs between his teeth and ministering to them until the big marshal was squirming in his clutch and crying above him. Then he drew his moist mouth past the valley of his navel and onto his pubic triangle, through the moist, warm nest of course hairs to the base of the throbbing prick. He circled it with wet licks and drew his mouth slowly over the vein etched skin of his shaft to the ridge of the solid, sheathed head. Rory tucked his tongue between the fleshy hood and the pulsing helmet, savoring the man’s masculine taste before closing his mouth over the engorged cock. His eyes tilted up and took in the marshal’s solid front as he sunk down on the prick, sucking and chewing as if he might devour it. The big lawman was moaning and sighing above him as he slid back and dove down again until his nose was engulfed in the thick pelt and he felt the warmth of the mans balls against his chin.

An undescribable need flooded his body as Destiny gave himself to the sensation the young man ignited within him. His fingers closed on the back of the handsome head and he pressed it forward, driving his cock deep into the willing throat while the muscles of his ass clenched beneath Rory’s big hands.

“Suck my cock,” Cultrane moaned. “Yeah...suck it.” He felt the rise of his orgasm building behind his balls as his knees trembled and he pumped into the hungry maw. He was nearly mad from his need for release and the pleasures Rory’s mouth delivered.

The young sheriff sensed the approaching climax and increased his attentions to the swollen tool, driving its full length deep into his throat until he was nearly choking before pulling back.

Destiny’s handsome head had fallen back on his shoulders as he gave himself to the flooding orgasm. His breath was coming in heavy gasps and the muscles of his solid belly tensed under his tan skin.

Destiny cried out as the flood broke from the base of his body and raged into his dick. He sucked in great gulps of breath as he started to come. Rory withdrew and held the throbbing cock while it lurched and shot the first bolt of thick, salty cream into the back of his mouth and down his throat. Above him the marshal yelled again and again as he continued to come until the flow had dwindled to a few drops squeezed into his open mouth.

Cultrane was struggling for breath when the sheriff rose and covered his mouth with his own, sharing the flavor of his ample load between them.

He was still licking cum from his stubbly chin and grinning when he started backing Destiny toward the side of the large brass bed. “Now, marshal...I have something for you,” Rory teased as he gripped Cultrane at the back of his knees and bent the big legs back onto his chest. Through a halo of blonde hair he saw Destiny’s secreted pucker and lowered his lips toward it.

“Tell me about Ben, Rory,” Cultrane asked when the two men had finished and were lying side by side in the warmth of his bed. He uncorked a small bottle of whiskey and offered it to Rory.

“Shit...I dunno Cully. Ben said he had to go out to the Pass. Greisen’s boys had been at it again and I guess he wanted to talk to ‘em.”

“He went alone?”

“Abby had been sick and I was keepin’ an eye on her. Ben told me it was nothing and I should stay in town.” He reached for his shirt and pulled a thin cigar from the pocket.

Destiny felt Rory’s warm flank against his own and his cock stirred between his legs. “You know Vance Larson?” he asked.

“Yeah...he works for Greisen. Seems like a good boy....ordinary cowpoke.” He slipped his hand into Destiny’s lap and closed his fingers around the engorged girth of his dick.

“I came to town to see him. Seems someone identified him as takin’ part in a hold up over at Brandon. They got a pretty good look and someone heard his name. You think he could have had anything to do with Ben’s death?” Cultrane felt his penis stiffening and let it happen.

“Geez, Destiny...Ben was shot in the back and his poke was gone...could have been anyone.”

“I wanna take a ride out there...will you go along?” He spread his knees, giving himself over to the ministration.

“Sure thing...Now, we don’t want to get Abby mad, so if we’re gonna do this again and be home in time for supper, we have to start now.” He rolled toward Destiny as their mouths came together and their arms closed around each other.

Morning came with a shard of sunlight that entered around the shade on the window and streamed across Destiny’s bed. He pulled himself from between the covers and fumbled at his genitals as he crossed the room to the window. In the street below it looked like the town had come to life again; people walked the boardwalks while some men struggled with the task of lying boards across the mud and rivulets created by the fast melting snow. There was the clatter of wagons and the sound of horses coming and going.

“Morning, marshal; looks like the storm is past. Nice day out there...except for the mud. Coffee’s in the bar.” Gus greeted him as he came off the bottom of the stairs.

“Thanks Gus. I’m heading to the barber shop first...if anybody’s looking for me.”

Destiny found his coat where he had left it and threw it over his arm.

“Right, Cully,” responded Gus as he went back to sweeping his floor.

The barber was a street over and a ways down and Destiny found it easily from memory. He figured he could learn more there than anywhere; if this barber was as free with his talk and knowing as most others.

“Real shame about Ben Davis. He was such a nice man...and a Hell of a good sheriff... real fair he was,” the barber intoned as he brushed fresh lather onto Destiny’s stiff beard. “Things sure ain’t the way they used to be...not since the railroad, I’d say...brought all sorts of trouble west. No accounts from all over. Like that bunch out ta Greisen’s place.”

“What about them?” Destiny rejoined slyly.

“Bad bunch, I’d say. Ya wouldn’t think Owen Greisen would have the like of most of them around. Cow punchers, my ass... gunslingers, I’d say,” he said as he looked at Destiny in the cloudy mirror and gestured with the razor. “Since Ben’s been gone they come into town too often, shooting and raising Cain. ‘Specially that Larson boy, Vance, Greisen’s foreman. Bad lot.” He leaned in close to Cultrane’s ear, although they were alone. “They say he’s killed nine men between here and Yuma territory just for his temper. I wouldn’t doubt it at all if it was his gun shot and killed Sheriff Davis.”

“What about Greisen?”

“He’s the big noise these parts...beside that big outfit out ta the Pass, he owns the bank, land office, assay office,...near everything that happens in Brushrock. There you go, marshal. All set.” The barber pulled the towel and striped cape off his customer.

“Much obliged,” Destiny said, handing over a two dollar gold piece. “Welcome....be careful marshal...there’s some bad out there.”

“Yeah...I will.” The barber was wiping off his chair as Destiny donned his coat and walked out the door.

It was a short walk in the sun back to the main street and up to the sheriff’s office. He used the planks and avoided most of the deep muddy ruts.

“Feel like going for a ride?”Cultrane said as he entered the office.

Rory was sitting behind the desk, his mud stained boots crossed up on the corner.

“Sure, let’s go,” Newsom answered as he fetched his coat and strapped on his gun belt. Destiny’s horse had already been fed and saddled by the time the men reached the stable.

“You didn’t tell me Larsen was Greisen’s foreman, too...or that he’s a known gunslinger.” Cultrane said casually while he fastened his duster behind his saddle.

“Didn’t know that part, Cully. I just figured he was one of Owen’s men,” Rory stammered.

“Owen?”

“Let’s go.” Destiny spurred his mare and they rode through town to the less traveled back trail out.

They followed the coursing wash that lead toward the Pass about six miles out, the horses maneuvering through wallows the depth of their hooves as they came down out of the steeper hills. All around them the fragrant desert sang as it came back to life.

Destiny was wary of something he couldn’t put his finger on; that Rory wasn’t jabbering as much as usual while they rode.

Suddenly he heard it, the thundering roar of a troop of horses off to his left. They appeared over the crest of a rise and bore down on the two riders; too fast for Destiny even to react. His dun half bucked as the leader cut her off.

“Where you headed, marshal?” The handsome rider asked. He sat straight and tall in the saddle while his black stallion danced and threw his head. A group of about a dozen men gathered behind him. “This is Circle-G land and you got no business here.”

“I came to talk to Vance Larsen,” answered Cultrane, knowing he was probably already speaking to him.

“Well, you got my attention, marshal. What do you want to talk about?”

Larsen tipped back his wide brimmed hat and rested a hand on the butt of his six shooter as he flexed his back. He had an angular face with sun burnished skin and bright blue eyes. A wisp of brown hair swept onto his forehead and a stubbly growth of beard shadowed his face. His shirt and vest did little to conceal a set of broad shoulders and a trim, muscular torso. Black, dusty chaps framed a sizable bulge straining at his jeans. He wore expensive but muddy boots and Mexican spurs; the kind described by the witness down south.

“Were you in Brandon last month?” Destiny also stretched his body up in his saddle.

“No.”

“That’s funny. Someone described your spurs, right down to the design on ‘em. It seems you kicked a guard nearly to death, but he got a good look at your boots and heard your men call you by name. I’d like you to come in so he can have a look at you. ” Destiny closed his hand around the hilt of his revolver but made no move.

“I ain’t going nowhere with you, marshal. And, I’ve never been to Brandon. Ain’t that right, Rory?”

“Rory?” Destiny repeated, not believing what he had heard. He started to draw his gun but heard a revolver cock beside him.

“Don’t try it, Cully. I don’t wanna shoot you” The sheriff said. “I’m sorry, but they just pay too much...give me the gun.”

As he passed the gun Cultrane suddenly shifted his weight and dove for Newsom, catching his sleeve. His startled horse sidled and both men pitched down, struggling as they hit the muddied trail.

Larsen and his riders shouted and jeered as the two men fought beneath their bolting horses, all the time struggling to get to their feet. All at once the young sheriff drove his fist into Cultrane’s crotch and the big man grunted and collapsed, gasping. He rolled him fast and tied his hands behind his butt with a lash Larsen had tossed to him.

“Okay, get him up and get him on his horse.” Larsen ordered. “Darby, you and Moon take him up to the line shack. We gotta go and deal with the next shipment. I’ll be up to take care of him tomorrow. When you get ‘im up there strip him and burn those clothes. I don’t want no sign found of him later...gimme that badge.” Larsen’s horse pranced back and forth while Darby pulled the grimy badge from Destiny’s vest and handed it up to their leader. “Now, get going.” He turned the restive colt and started off back to the Pass with his men following behind.

Darby slapped the mare on her rump and the two rode toward the hills and the high range above, leading Cultrane’s horse between them.

The line shack was a one room stone cabin set with its back tight against a sheer rock face. There was no way in from the rear and only one access from the front. It had a sod roof with a chimney at one end of it and two small windows and a door in front.

Moon pulled Cultrane from his horse and shoved the stunned lawman through the door while Darby tied the horses to a small tree among the tall grass surrounding the place. He brought with him the saddle bags and Destiny’s coat.

Inside, the place was sparse, just enough room for two or three men to hole up, if necessary, for a few months during the winter. There was a table and chairs, a couple rough hewn beds along the far wall, a cook stove and a fireplace on the side wall.

The coming evening had made it darker inside and there was a deep chill returning to the thin air.

“I’m gonna keep this duster, and his saddle... it’s a cinch he ain’t gonna need ‘em...not where he’s gonna end up,” Darby said as he came through the door. He lit the rusty lantern on the table and the room filled with a warm, yellow light.

Cultrane took in the look of the cabin and his two captors while Moon untied his wrists.

Moon was a redheaded, sallow complected young man, even given the time he spent on the range. He had a malevolent grin and intent--a man to be cautious of. Moon was not tall but heavily muscled and stocky of build. Matt Darby was just a cowpuncher, made outlaw, plain in every way. He had a handsome guileless face with a growth of whiskers shadowing his jowls, a hardy build and a randy shock of dark hair on his head. Nothing about the man would have been extraordinary enough to make him stand out in a crowd. He was Moon’s boss, however.

“He sure is one muddy mess...stinks some, too. Here, lets get ‘im out of them duds like the boss said,” Darby instructed while Moon shoved Cultrane toward the center of the room, keeping the Remington trained at the lawman’s chest.

“Suppose you strip off that shirt and pull off them boots and socks, marshal.”

While the two men chuckled, Destiny did as he was told and soon felt the cold floor under his bare feet. He remembered he had needed a new pair of boots. All at once a deep disparaging sense closed on him as he realized he probably wouldn’t be needing them anymore.

“Let me go, come with me and I’ll put in a word for you. The Judge will go easy on ya. If you take part in this I promise you boys, you’ll hang with Larsen.”

“Hear that, Moon...he’ll get us off if we let him go.” He motioned with the barrel of his gun. “I got a better idea, Cultrane, kiss that upright yonder. Moon, bind his arms ‘round it.”

Destiny felt the chill of the room on his back and the cold wood against his chest as stepped to the post and closed his arms around it. He had to turn his face against the rough timber as Moon lashed his arms tight together.

“I’m gonna go out and get us some firewood. You keep an eye on our boy there,” Darby said as he headed toward the door.

“I got him secured. Don’t think this one’s gonna be goin’ nowhere,” answered Moon.

Soon Destiny heard water splashing, the clomp of boots behind him and the tinkle of a single set of spurs. Then Moon had a hold on his hair and was yanking his face to the side.

“Gonna get some of that mud off ya’ before it dries.” The young man roughly wiped a cold, wet rag around his face and down onto his thick neck. “You’re a big boy aren’t ya’?”

Moon’s left hand rested on Cultranes back while his right slid around his side to his taut belly and tentatively edged up to one protruding teat before slipping again over the plain of his ridged gut to the top of his pants. He unbuckled the empty gun belt and pulled it away from his hips while the back of his hand traced over the form of his long cock Destiny smelled the man’s sour breath and felt its warmth against the skin of his shoulder.

“Um...hmm, nice and big.” he practically whispered.

“Take you fucking hands off me,” Destiny shouted just as the other one came back in.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Demanded Darby as Moon backed away from their victim.

“I was just tryin’ to clean him up a little; thought he needed it.”

“He did...and it seems he don’t know how to appreciate a kindness. So, why don’t you shove that there rag in his mouth and shut him up until he can behave.” Darby unloaded a great armful of wood into the fireplace and squatted to organize it and get it lighted. “No, No...umpf...umpf,” Destiny protested and struggled against him but Moon had little trouble cramming the sodden rag he had been using between the marshals tightening jaws.

The kindling caught fire easily and soon flames shot up between the logs and the room filled with flickering orange light and waves of inviting heat.

“Here, toss me that shirt and his socks...I think I’ll keep his boots if Larsen don’t care.”

His fire seemed to smother when he added the clothes but the flames soon engulfed the discarded fabric. Darby walked over to join Moon. He watched the coat of sweat on the marshal’s rippling back glistening in the firelight.

“Now, mister marshal man, lets get them dirty pants off ya’, Whatd’ya say Moon?” He didn’t try to hide the chuckle in his voice. “I don’t think I ever seen me a real necked lawman afore.”

Destiny fought and kicked, garbling behind the gag as Moon fell against him driving him hard into the post.

Holding him tight by the hair, Moon reached around and found the short row of buttons again and wedged each one loose while Cultrane struggled. He felt the brush of the man’s pubic hair against his fingers as the fly spread open and he began rolling the fabric off his victim’s hips and over the voluptuous loaves of his buttocks, slowly exposing them. Moon found the column of flesh against Destiny’s right leg and the bulge of his balls beneath it, still concealed by the pants. The equipment flopped free of the confinement as he peeled the material down Cultrane’s furry legs.

“Ummpf...ummpf... Gawwd amn ou!!” Cultrane shouted. The cold air in the room tickled on his bare flesh, raising a rash of gooseflesh.

From the back Darby saw the full sack of the lawman’s balls hanging in the valley between his muscular thighs while Moon pulled the trousers off his feet and tossed them toward his partner.

“Umm umm...this marshal is a big man, ain’t he, Moon? That is one fine ass, Cultrane. Skin like milk, ain’t it?” He tossed the pants onto the fire where they smouldered for a moment before bursting into flame.

Destiny heard his step as he returned and felt one hand close on his flank and the other glide across one exposed ass cheek. Cool fingers just tentatively dipped into the cleft between them.

“...Amn ou, et off mee,” Destiny cried out as he struggled.

“Now, you just take it easy there, marshal man....ya ain’t goin’ nowhere and we ain’t gonna hurt ya none. We’ll leave that part to Larsen and your boy, the sheriff. I’m just gotta make sure your hung here...nice and tight like. You warm enough?” he scoffed.

Darby had gone to the other side of the upright and looked into Destiny’s desperate eyes while he pulled his bound wrists higher up the timber and hooked the rope over a sturdy peg nearer the top.

The lawman grunted and cried out from the new strain on his tortured arms and shoulders while his captor looked down over the front of his body, past his convulsing ripped belly to his long penis and the sizable balls wobbling against the pole.

“Ya know, Moon, they say fucking a man in the asshole is better than a woman...and looka the pretty ass on this man. I ain’t had nothin’ but my own fist in a long time now and I’m ready, man. How ‘bout you?” He said while he pulled his shirt open and peeled his pants down to his knees.

Darby was compact and well muscled, with thick arms and a sturdy neck. A generous coating of dark hair spread across the slabs of his chest and tapered down the middle of a striated belly. His cock rose straight up and hard from a dense clump of coarse hair below his navel. The bulging tip was exposed and a drop of pre-cum already darkened its single eye.

“I dunno, Darby...I ain’t never thought about it, man.” Moon, however was rubbing the bulge at the front of his pants at the thought.

“Tomorrow he’s gonna die, Moon. We might as soon enjoy him tonight,” said Darby as he shuffled up behind the captive man.

Destiny felt a rough pair of hands on his hips pulling them back. There were fingers pressing into the cleft between his puckered cheeks, seeking the soft hole. He clenched in tight but the man spit a hot glob of saliva onto his fingers and spread it onto him, beginning to press in at the tight portal. Then he felt the pop as the probing digit passed his sphincter and entered him.

The man was warm and soft inside, like velvet cloth against his finger and he cried out while Darby pressed steadily into him. The marshal had tried to keep him out but the effort had failed and that only made his ass tighter, more exciting. He added another finger to the first and the big lawman moaned and garbled behind the rag in his mouth. Gradually he found a hard spot in the chute above the big mans balls, and when he concentrated on it Cultrane moaned louder and a shudder passed through him. While he massaged the stiff gland Darby slid his hand around the sweaty hip and into the space between his victim’s legs. He felt the solid bag of Cultrane’s balls and above it the rampant cock, pulsing and stretching up toward his belly. He closed his fist around the hot member and pulled back and forward on his stretched foreskin before letting his fingers trace the shape of the crown, spreading the leaking juice onto the swollen head. The marshal thrust his hips up and groaned aloud.

“I’m happy this is gonna be good for you, big man....a man should enjoy his last fuck on this here earth, huh? Even if he’s the one gettin’ fucked..” Darby whispered beside his ear while he pulled his fingers free of the wet ass and rubbed his own stiff member along the hairy crack.

Pressing down on the small of Cultrane’s spine with one hand he angled his cock up into the cleft toward the waiting hole. The lawman yelped again as the broad, purple head broke in past the tortured ring and slid forward. Darby watched the veins of his steely shaft disappear as he flexed his hips and sunk deeper and deeper into the man. He cried out and sunk his teeth into Cultrane’s shoulder, flattening his belly against the solid, sweating back while his balls met the flesh of the marshal’s ass. He pulled back slowly, breathing hard, enjoying the unknown sensations until just the ridge of his tumid helmet slid free before driving into him again. Darby seized a handful of Destiny’s hair and began to thrust into him again and again, brutalizing the man with his rearing organ, and lost in the ecstasy raging through his body.

“Yeah...fuck ‘im, man,” Moon cried from the side while he flagged the penis jutting from the opening of his pants. It was an extra long, thin dick, pale in the flesh with a pink, trimmed bulbous head. His deep piss slit was wet and dripping with his own leaking pre-juice.

“Moon...come over here and put your mouth on the man’s dick while I do ‘im,” Darby panted while he continued pumping into the marshal’s butt.

“What?... I dunno, man...I can’t do that.” Moon’s voice trailed off.

“Suck his cock, Moon. Let’s give this... man ...a send off.”

Reluctantly Moon shuffled to the upright and knelt beside Cultrane’s splayed legs. Right before his face was the lawman’s naked hip and Darby’s stiff cock lunging in and out of the furry crack. He was caught suddenly in the excitement as he raised his hand to the marshal’s hard thigh and then into the warmth of his crotch, past the sack, to the root of the throbbing cock. Cultrane groaned as he pulled the member down and shyly licked at its head, tasting the warm, taut flesh and then the salty crystalline fluid seeping from its lips. Inhaling the masculine odor of his sex, Moon opened his eyes and watched the dusky cock as he flexed back the long fold of flesh and circled the crown with his lapping tongue, driving the marshal into jolts of pleasure. He reveled in its texture as he closed his lips over the shaft and sunk down on it until he felt the prickly hairs against his nose and the sack of the big mans nuts on his chin. The cock clenched in his maw and deposited a glob of sweet juice down his throat.

Moon pulled back and folded the glistening cock up to the marshals belly then lowered his mouth to the flesh of his solid balls, sucking in one and then the other, tormenting the meaty orbs. He continued handling his own cock as he played with their prisoner, long stroking his heavy shaft then teasing the bold corona until he was moaning aloud, ready to spill his pent up load.

Destiny felt his orgasm boiling in his gut and the urgent need to release it drove him on. He bucked wildly, thrusting his hips, driving his cock deep in the man’s mouth while increasing the friction on the tumid member wedged in his ass. He moaned out loud past the gag and sweat poured from his body, dripping onto Moon’s rumpled hair. He felt something relax and a magnificent rush suddenly clouded his brain.

“Yeah!” Darby cried. “Ride my cock, marshal man...Yeah, that’s the way, boy.” He viciously slapped at one mound of Cultrane’s firm ass and then the other before he seized the pumping hips and then arced back to watch his cock lunging in and out between the furry globes. The ass clenched and tightened around the length of his driving dick and he knew he could hold back no longer.

A steady flow of sweet juice was flowing onto Moon’s tongue when all at once the cock in his mouth stiffened, the head flared and he heard the marshal cry out above him. The big man was quaking and Moon held fast to the thick thighs rising on either side his head. The penis clenched hard and shot the first thick wad of pungent seed onto the back of his tongue and down his throat. Moon gagged at the powerful flavor but held the cock tight with his lips as it jerked wildly again and again, each time blasting out more salty spunk until the fluid leaked from the corners of his gulping mouth. He was pumping his own dick faster and faster, tormenting the head and driving himself to a shuddering climax that began above his balls and rushed into the length of his cock. He hollered around the shaft of the wilting member still filling his mouth while he watched his prick buck between his fingers and shoot long threads of cum onto the wooden floor between his spread knees.

The ass hole tightened once, twice, three times on his cock and Darby knew the struggling marshal was spilling his load into Moons hungry mouth, and that was enough for him. He roared as his orgasm rushed through his guts toward its release. He grabbed a handful of Cultranes blonde hair and savagely pulled back while he slammed his belly against the man’s back and buried himself in the silky burrow of his ass. Darby was panting and both men were drenched in sweat as he began to come. He hollered again and lunged forward while his cock jerked and sent a flood of his cream into the tortured bowel. Darby clung to the man’s broad back while the rush of his climax faded and the last of his load pulsed from his fading erection. The marshal was groaning and still weakly pulling at the bonds when Darby popped his cock free of his ass and brutally slapped the wet flank again.

“Oh...Moon, man...you gotta do this big hairy ass. This here boy will give ya a ride, man,” Darby panted.

“I’m ready, boss. I’ll give him a try,” Moon said as he swiped at his mouth with the back of his fist.

Dawn was breaking when they had finally finished with the enervated lawman. He hung limp from his bound wrists while Darby and Moon snored in two of the bunks at the back of the shack.

They barely stirred at the sound of a horse approaching outside.

A shudder raked Destiny’s naked body as he realized, with the last of his remaining consciousness, that the end of his life had just arrived with the lonely rider.

Rory Newsom’s voice boomed outside the shack.

“Yo, inside the cabin. It’s Newsom. I’m coming in.” Rory entered the shack cautiously with his gun drawn and took in the sight of Cultrane’s sweat and dirt streaked body hanging on the thick upright and his two tormentors stirring on the cots. The stale air of the room stunk of cum and shit.

“Looks like you boys had yourselves some fun...” Rory holstered his revolver, went to Destiny and tipped his chin up. The marshal’s eyes fluttered open for a moment and closed again. His head dropped forward.

“Yeah we did...You get your business done? Where’s Larsen? He was gonna come up to take care of the big boy.” Darby coughed while he pulled on his boots. Moon was waking and rolling out of the bed.

“He changed the plans. You boys need to get him ready and we’ll take him down to the Pass.”

“That don’t sound right, Newsom. We should finish him here, burry him and be done with it. Where’s Larsen anyway?”

“He ain’t comin’. He’s busy. Now, cut him down and put that coat yonder on him and let’s go.” Rory said as he turned toward the smouldering fire.

“We ain’t goin’ nowhere with you, sheriff...not until Vance tells us so.” Darby had cautiously moved a step closer to his rifle, propped against the bed frame.

“Larsen’s dead...I killed him about three hours ago.”

“What? Why you dirty double...” Darby went for the Remington but Rory spun in the space of a heartbeat, his gun appearing in his hand and firing as he dove for the floor.

The explosion was deafening in the enclosed space and Moon went for his own gun as Darby’s body spun before him and fell, his rifle still in his hand.

Moon raised his weapon and saw the flash from the barrel of the sheriff’s pistol. His legs felt soft as he seemed to stumble barefooted toward the lawman. He was short of breath suddenly and the floor felt cold and hard against the side of his face. He saw his arm go out in front of his face, reaching for his boots.

“Ma?” he murmured weakly before he died.

“Cully?... You alright? Come on, stay with me.” Rory spoke as he cut the thongs around the marshal’s wrists and lowered his body to the floor. He covered him with his discarded duster, brought water and held Destiny’s head as he helped him to drink.

“Wha...?” Cultrane mumbled.

“Let’s get you back to town. Get you some attention. Think you can ride?” Newsom asked, helping the big man into his coat.

“Yeah....yeah,” Destiny whispered hoarsely. “How ya doin’?” Rory asked as he entered the spare room where he and his wife had put Cultrane, according to the doctor’s orders.

“I’m better, thanks. What happened?” Destiny let the sheriff prop another pillow behind his head.

“Greisen was shorting the gold shipments from his assay office to Denver. His men would just off load the shorted amount at the Pass and let the rest go on. The driver worked for him too so there was no trouble and nobody ever noticed. But, somehow Ben Davis found out about the shipments and decided to ride out to the Pass and face Greisen. He was alone and Larsen ambushed him.

He could get close enough to Greisen. When I went to arrest him for Ben’s murder day before yesterday Larsen surprised me and I had to kill him.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, but I really had no choice, Cully.” He pulled a small chair up to the side of the bed.

“It’s alright. I didn’t like the idea of you going back to the other side again, though. I’m glad you didn’t...you’re one hell of a lawman.” Destiny smiled and pulled himself up in the bed.

Rory slipped his hand beneath the sheet and into the space between Cultrane’s thick thighs.

“You gonna be alright?” Rory asked slyly while filling his fist with the marshal’s flaccid dick.

“You come over to the hotel tomorrow afternoon and we’ll find out.”