Gay Erotic Stories

I don’t know how much longer I can sit on this horse. Every time her hoof meets the ground it’s like she’s kicking me in the ribs. I can’t move my left arm anymore. I have to hold the reins with my right hand. All I want is to make it home. A few more hours, that’s all.

There’s something wrong with me, that’s for sure; something more than a bullet in the side. Otherwise I would never be in this mess. I should be happily married to Bess Mckenzie and raising young ones of my own. I’ve known Bess most my life. I know she’s a pretty thing; everybody says so. But I just can’t seem to… I just can’t seem to get excited about her. I have been up in the barn with her; kissed her, too. But I didn’t do it because I wanted to. I did it because I knew it was expected of me. The truth is she practically had to beg me the first time. And after that I kept it up just so she wouldn’t take up with some other fellow and leave me to answer a lot of questions from my family and everybody else about why she dumped me. But I think she knew it wasn’t right. She had to feel that my heart wasn’t in it. One thing about Bess; she ain’t dumb.

I should have done something about this bullet right off. I should have found a doctor and had him take it out. I’m afraid it’s too late now. I had a look this morning. My whole side was swollen and it has turned crimson. Long red streaks are crawling across my chest and belly, like they’d been left there by the devil’s own fingers. Infection, for certain.

Billy Shaw. I guess I won’t ever see him again now. Part of me wishes I had never laid eyes on him in the first place. The rest of me still wants to see him more than anything else in the world. Maybe things would have been different if he hadn’t showed up at the ranch. Maybe not. Maybe it just would have been somebody else.

I was surprised Pa hired him. He usually tells saddle bums to just keep on moving. But Billy had a way about him. He could charm the leaves off the trees, I reckon, if he wanted to. Maybe it was just because Billy was about the same age as me that Pa took him on. But I think Pa liked him. I think that’s why he let him stay in the main house, in my room, rather than out in the bunkhouse with the Mexicans.

I remember the first time I saw Billy. I watched him ride up with Pa. I didn’t think much about it at the time. But then he got down off his horse and Pa said, “Tom, I want you to meet Bill Shaw. He’s coming to work with us for a while.” Billy took off his hat and reached out his hand. He had hair the color of straw and yes as blue as a summer sky. I guessed he was eighteen or nineteen, same as me, but he was lean and hard. He didn’t have much hair on his face and what he did have was fine and light colored so you could hardly see it. He smiled as I shook his hand and his teeth were straight and white as could be. I was struck somehow, straight off. When his hand touched mine my heart kind of raced, the way it does when a jackrabbit suddenly breaks out of sagebrush unexpectedly. He looked me straight in the eye in a way that seemed strangely intimate as if he could see right down to my soul. Right away I felt there was some uncommon connection between us, even though I had never seen him before.

He said, “Pleased to meet you.”

I felt embarrassed for some reason as if I had been caught at some sinful act. I could feel the heat in my face and I knew I was blushing, something I do all too easily. I guess I mumbled something by way of reply; something dumb, probably.

Pa said, “Billy can bunk with you, if you want. You got that extra bed now that Matt is gone. Might as well put it to use. Or he can stay out in the bunkhouse. Don’t matter to me.”

“Sure, Pa. I don’t mind.” I thought the happiest day of my life was when my big brother Matt took off and left me a room to myself. But there I was, agreeing to share with some stranger.

“Fine, then,” Pa said. He turned to Billy, “You can start work tomorrow. You’ll be working with Tom here.” Then he said to me, “Tom, show Bill around. But first take him to the bathhouse. Boy needs a good scrub down.” He got back on his horse and turned toward the gate.

Billy said, “Thanks, Mr. Cass.”

Pa turned and smiled then spurred his horse to a gallop. Billy put his gear on the porch then we took his horse to the barn, unsaddled it, and put it in the corral with the others. “Where’d you come from?” I asked him.

“Fresno.”

“You got family there?” “Oh, yeah. Lots of them; I got so many brothers and sisters that my folks can’t hardly remember all our names.”

When the horse was put away I walked him to the bathhouse. “What you doing here, then?”

“There’s nothing for me in Fresno. My folks have a small farm, but I got six brothers, five of them older than me. The farm ain’t that big. So I’m going to Los Angeles. I’m going to get me a good job in a bank or a store or something. Hell, I don’t care if I sell lady’s undergarments, long as I don’t have to ever plow a damn field again.”

Once in the bathhouse we stoked up the fire in the old potbelly stove and put a couple of kettles on to heat bath water. Then we sat on a bench and Billy rolled a cigarette. After he lit up I helped him pull off his boots. “Ah, that feels good,” he said. He wiggled his toes and smiled at me.

“So, if you’re going to Los Angeles, how did you happen to get here?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t have any money, see. I don’t want to show up in Los Angeles with empty pockets, do I? So I figured I would put together a grubstake before I get there. That way I won’t have to take up residence under the boardwalk.” He laughed and winked at me. I laughed too.

When the kettles got hot we poured water into the old tin tub and put more on to heat. Meanwhile we talked about what it must be like to live in Los Angeles. He had never been there. I had gone a couple of times with Pa when we had business with the railroad, but I really hadn’t seen much of the place. Billy was full of questions, most of which I couldn’t answer.

After we had poured enough water into the tub Billy put his hand in and said, “Just right, I reckon.” Then he proceeded to strip off his dusty clothes. He was awfully casual about it. I have never been like that. I don’t like to dress in front of others, but it didn’t seem to bother him at all. I tried to be offhand, too, like I saw naked men all the time, but I couldn’t help looking. He had wide shoulders and good muscles. His arms were sinewy and the veins stood out on them. His stomach was tightly muscled and when he shucked off his trousers I could hear my heart beating in my ears so loud I thought he would hear it too. His legs were long and hairy from the knees down, but the rest of his body was smooth and bare. His butt was muscular, too, and his…

That damned Carlos. Why did he have to go and shoot me? I don’t think he really meant to. I think it was just an unlucky shot. He probably doesn’t even know he hit me. That’s a joke. Killed a man and doesn’t even know it. God, it hurts. I wish I could get off this horse for a while, but I’m afraid I would never get back on. I probably couldn’t walk anyway. It’s only a couple more hours. I will make it. I just got to keep my mind active so I don’t slip away and fall off this damned horse.

I showed Billy around the farm. We grow lemons and oranges mostly, and some avocados and figs. Our operation is different from what he was used to. His folk’s place was more like a truck farm. They had a few animals, too, but it wasn’t a big commercial operation. We have 640 acres and Pa employs 50 people, give or take; mostly Mexicans and some Indians. Billy took to it right off, though. He worked with me in the barn a lot, keeping equipment maintained and such.

Billy had a habit of touching. He was always putting an arm around my shoulder or his hand on my knee. I wasn’t used to it, but I didn’t ask him to stop. I figured it was just his way, and truth be told, I liked it.

I liked Billy. I liked him too much, I guess. But I had never met anyone like him. He was smart and funny and he had a kind of courage I admired. Here he was, barely a man, going to make his own way in the world without even knowing what to expect. He didn’t have any money and no knowledge of anything other than farming, but he was perfectly willing to go to the city and make his mark, whatever it might be.

A few days after he arrived we were laying in our beds one night and he asked me, “You ever fool around with your brother?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like sleep with him, in the same bed. That sort of thing.”

“Hell, no. You wouldn’t ask that if you knew Matt. He never liked me much. Besides, he’s nine years older than I am.”

Billy didn’t say anything more on the subject, but I wondered for days what he had meant. Then, some time later, we were putting up hay in the barn loft late one afternoon. It was hot sweaty work and we both had our shirts off. Suddenly I heard him say, “Hey, Tom!”

As I turned around he said, “Catch!” and threw a pitchfork full of hay at me. He laughed as I shook the hay out of my hair and tried to brush it off my shoulders. But with all that sweat it stuck good.

“Think it’s funny, do you?” I asked. Before he could answer I leapt on him and threw him off his feet. We wrestled in the hay, rolling about, trying unsuccessfully to pin one another until we were both winded and scratched and covered with dust and hay. It was a good match. He was strong and quick, but so was I. Finally, we lay on our backs, breathing hard and giggling. After a while he rolled onto his elbows and looked me straight in the eyes; straight and deep. We stopped laughing. He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair, brushing out stems of hay. His touch was soft, like a caress, though his hands were callused and rough. I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t do anything. A small smile touched the corners of his mouth. He slipped his right arm under my neck and, lying on his right side, slowly brushed dusty hay off my chest and belly.

“You are a handsome man, Tom Cass,” he said.

I didn’t know how to reply, so I just said, “So are you.”

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his breath heavy, so that I could smell the faint odor of tobacco. My heart was pounding so that I could hear it and beneath my trousers I was so stiff and hard that it almost hurt. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I knew it was wrong, but I was powerless to stop it.

Almost of its own will my right hand came around and touched his back. Suddenly he rolled over on top of me. He looked me in the eyes for a moment and then, slowly, he put his lips to mine and kissed me. I was shocked…, and thrilled. My whole body was tingling and in my groin was an urging such as I had never known. It was nothing at all like kissing Bess. Whereas her lips were soft and smooth, his were bristly. She had always kept her lips firmly closed, but his mouth was open, his tongue probing ever so lightly. I opened my mouth and we kissed deeply. I put my arms around his body and pulled him closer, as close as I could. I hugged him with all my strength. I would never have done that with Bess. I would have been afraid I would hurt her, and indeed, I would have hurt her. But Billy seemed excited by it. His kisses became even more insistent and as his did, so did mine. I felt his hand moving down my body, caressing, and then it reached the waistband of my trousers. He paused for a moment, then I felt him slip his hand into my pants and the next thing I knew he had a hold of me. It was the most delicious ecstasy I had ever felt. I kept thinking, I can’t believe he likes me so much that he would do this for me.

I reckon I might be dying. I hurt so bad I can hardly see. And yet, even now, when my pain is so great that I cannot move, the memory of those times with Billy stirs me in the most wicked way.

Billy stayed on at the ranch for nearly a year. Sometimes he would creep into my bunk late at night when everyone else was sleeping. Sometimes I would creep into his. But mostly we did what we did up in the hayloft. We brought an old canvas tarp up there. It always started the same way, wrestling; and it always ended the same way, too. It was dangerous and we both knew it. We lived in constant fear of being caught, but we couldn’t stop. Then one day we were up in the loft and we heard my older brother Theo come out of the house. By the time he got to the barn we both had our trousers back on. “When you two are finished doing whatever you do up there, dinner is ready,” he said, good and loud. Then he turned and went back to the house. The way he said it, it was like he knew. Billy and I just looked at each other.

“What do you think he meant by that?” Billy asked.

“I don’t know.”

Later that night, when we were in our room, Billy said, “It’s time for me to go, Tom. I’ve got a few dollars saved up and I’m afraid of what’s going to happen here. We’re going to get caught if we keep up doing what we been doing and I don’t want that to happen.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” I said.

“Why don’t you come with me, then? We can share a place in Los Angeles. We could get jobs. Nobody has to know.”

“I can’t leave just like that. I have responsibilities. Pa needs me here.” It wasn’t that simple, though. I didn’t want to give up my piece of the ranch. I figured I could be running the place some day and I didn’t want to give that up to go live in Los Angeles and work for wages.

For the next few days he tried to talk me into going with him and I tried to talk him into staying. In the end neither of us got what he wanted.

I let him go.

I thought what we were doing was wrong, sinful, and I really believed that once he was gone I would get over it. I would marry and have kids, like Theo, and stay at the ranch for the rest of my days. I tried to get together with Bess, but I had been neglecting her for the last year and she’d had enough. She’s been seeing some other fellow and I reckon they’ll get married before too long. Since Billy left I have felt so bad that I couldn’t bring myself to try to find another gal.

Damn! I almost fell off my horse just now. I haven’t fallen off a horse since I was ten years old. I have to be careful. I guess I just got a little dizzy.

Billy’s been gone about six months now. It seems like longer. At first I hurt so bad I wanted to die. My Ma knew I was missing Billy; because of the way I was moping around, I guess. She tried to cheer me up, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want them to suspect the way I really felt, so I tried to put up a good act and it got a little easier as time went by. I could get through the day sometimes without even thinking about him. But the nights have been unremitting hell. All I do is think about him. I toss and turn, sometimes for hours, before I get to sleep.

“What do you mean you’re going to Los Angeles? We have work to do here. ou can’t just up and leave.”

“Well, I’m going. I have to. I’ll come back in a couple of weeks.”

“What the hell do you want to go to Los Angeles for?”

“I just need to get away from here for a while.”

“You don’t know anybody in Los Angeles. What are you going to do there?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out when I get there. Billy’s there somewhere. Maybe I’ll run into him.”

I don’t know what Pa thought when I said that, but he looked at me kind of funny. After a minute he said, “I guess a man has to do what he has to do. I hardly noticed how you’ve grown up. How old are you now?”

Twenty-one.”

“Well, I guess you need to sow some wild oats, then. I reckon this is as good a time as any. When you want to go?”

“Soon as I can. Tomorrow, maybe.”

I packed a carpetbag that night. Next morning at breakfast Pa gave me sixty dollars. I saddled up my mare, fixed a bedroll behind the saddle, and hit the road. I thought I saw tears in Ma’s eyes when she told me to be careful. What’s she going to think when I ride up all bloody with a bullet in me?

It’s over a hundred miles from the ranch to Los Angeles. In the summer, with a good horse, it’s a three day ride, more like four in the winter due to the shorter days. It’s the end of March now and I’ve been gone a little over two weeks. The weather has been mild and pleasant since I left, so I made the journey in a little over three days, arriving the morning of the fourth day after I left home.

Los Angeles is growing like crazy. My Pa says he remembers when it was just a little Mexican village, but now I hear there are almost 100,000 people there. The railroad has turned it into a city and more people are pouring in all the time. I didn’t know how I was going to find Billy. He sent one letter since he left. He said he found work and was doing well, but didn’t give any details. He’s not much for writing and it was clear that he never had much schooling.

I rode into town from the North, down the old Camino Real. I found a livery stable near the railroad station, which was the center of town, near as I could tell. I got off my horse and led her into the big barn where a young Mexican fellow about my age came up and took the reins. I was struck at once by his good looks. He was of about the same stature as Billy, with dark skin, black hair, and eyes like coal. He had mustaches, but the hair, though thick, was sparse and did nothing to detract from his youthful good looks. He looked at me in the same manner that Billy had done the first time we met, a piercing gaze straight in the eyes. It was as if something passed between us; a message, a recognition…, I don’t know what to call it. Then he smiled. “You want to leave your horse, Senor?” he asked.

“Yes. And could you recommend a good hotel?”

“Sure. Plenty of hotels around the railroad station. Any one is okay, but if it was me I would stay in the guest house of Senora Castro. It is cheaper than the hotels and she gives you two meals. Also, Senora Castro is a very good cook.”

He gave me directions and asked me how long I was going to stay. I told him I expected to be there for a couple of weeks. He asked me if I would be using my horse while I was in town and I told him I expected I would. He said, “My name is Carlos. I am here every day except Sunday. You tell me when you want your horse, the day before, and I have her ready for you. You going to need her tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow, I reckon, but maybe the day after.”

“Okay. You let me know any time. What is your name, Senor? For the books...”

“Tom Cass,” I said, and spelled it for him. I paid him at the weekly rate and took my carpetbag down. “I guess I’ll see you again, then,” I said.

“I hope so, Senor,” he replied. His smile was most engaging.

I turned to go, but then thought to ask, “You wouldn’t know a fellow by the name of Billy Shaw, would you?”

“No, Senor. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen him in some time and I don’t know where he lives.”

“Los Angeles is a big place, amigo. I hope you can find your friend. If not, maybe you just have to make new ones, eh?” He smiled and winked at me, then led my horse to the tack room at the back of the barn.

I should have gone back right then and got my horse and taken her to a different stable. I should have told Carlos I changed my mind. I knew right off I was drawn to him and I should have seen that it would turn out bad. Instead I went to Senora Castro’s guesthouse and took a room.

The Senora looks like a white woman, but she speaks with a Spanish accent. The room was small, but it was clean and had a small desk. Senora Castro had no knowledge of Billy either, but that was no more than I expected.

I spent the next day walking around town. There are restaurants, saloons, cantinas, and stores. Fashionable ladies carrying parasols ride in hacks and walk the boardwalk from one establishment to another sometimes in the company of men wearing fancy suits and tall hats. The city is installing gas streetlights, so even at night it is bright as day and people stay up until all hours.

I tried to figure the kind of places where Billy might go, but I really didn’t have any idea. I felt foolish going into stores and asking if they ever heard of Bill Shaw. Nobody had, and they all told me the same thing, “Los Angeles is a big place. You might not ever find your friend here.”

By the second day I was already feeling discouraged. I decided to get my horse and ride around some, just to get the lay of things. Then I could figure the best way to do my searching. I went back to the livery stable about mid-morning to get my horse.

When Carlos saw me he smiled and came up to me. “Ah, my friend, Tomas.” He pronounced my name the Spanish way. “So, you going for a ride today?” he asked.

“Reckon so,” I said. He put his arm over my shoulder and walked me back to the tack room. “You find your friend yet?” he inquired.

“No. Not yet,” I said. His arm over my shoulder felt good; too good. His easy familiarity made me want to turn and put my arms around him. I was lonesome and he was kind, maybe it was just that simple. But I thought I detected in him the same kind of kinship that Billy and I had. It was the way he looked at me, straight in the eyes, and then the casual touch that started me to thinking. Maybe I wouldn’t find Billy. What would I do then? I needed a friend, a friend like Billy, a friend who was… more than a friend.

Carlos got my horse out of a stall and led her back to the tack room. We talked as he saddled her up. “Where you going today, Tomas?” he asked.

“I don’t know, exactly. I’m just going to have a look around.”

“You should go to the mission,” he said. “Everybody goes to the mission. It is very old; over a hundred years. This is the history of Los Angeles.”

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“All my life, Tomas. Soy Angelino.”

“Where do you live?”

“Right here, behind the stable. I have a small house where I live with my wife and daughter.”

“Oh, you’re married…” It hadn’t occurred to me that he might be married. I wonder if he heard the disappointment in my voice.

“Yes, amigo. I am married. But it was more a matter of honor than a matter of love. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I understand.” He got the girl pregnant and had to marry her. “My wife, she’s good to me. She cooks and cleans and takes care of little Maria. But it is hard being married. Helena, that is my wife; her mother lives with us too. I have a house full of women. I miss the company of men, you know?”

“Yes,” I said. “I prefer the company of men, myself.”

He stopped what he was doing for a moment and looked at me. “So. Maybe we be friends, eh?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’d like that.” I was a damned fool.

Los Angeles is spread out across a broad valley. The city is big and getting bigger. I rode all day and didn’t cover half of it. It was then, I think, that I began to seriously despair of ever finding Billy Shaw. I didn’t stop trying, though. Each day I would go to the livery stable in the morning after breakfast to fetch my horse. But each day I tarried longer, spent more time with Carlos. And each day I became more enchanted with him, more convinced that he felt as I did. And I was right.

Five days ago… Is that all? It has been a lifetime to me. Five days ago, in the back corner of the tack room, late, after the sun had set, I took him in my arms. We did not disrobe, though. We had no safe place to go. But our embrace was passionate. He immediately covered my face and neck with kisses. His body was pressed urgently against mine and his breath came in gulps as did my own. I told him I needed him. He told me he wanted me. We promised each other we would find a way to be alone. He went home to his wife. I went back to a lonely little room at Senora Castro’s.

The next day I went to the stable in the morning as usual. Carlos said he would be busy during the day. I understood. He didn’t want me standing around the barn all day. I didn’t want to do that either. So we saddled up my horse and I rode off. I even made a half-hearted attempt to seek information about Billy Shaw, but in truth I had given up by then.

I returned in the evening as late as possible. It was already dusk when I rode into the stables. Carlos smiled and winked at me as I got down off my horse. “So, Tomas, did you have a good ride today.”

“No,” I said. “The whole day I thought of you.”

“I thought of you also,” he said. I followed him into the tack room. No sooner had we passed the threshold than he turned and put his arms around me. “Sunday,” he said, “after church I will meet you here and we will go for a ride. We will go away from town, eh?”

“Yes,” I said. I put my arms around him and pulled him tight against my body. Suddenly I heard a female voice behind me.

“Carlos!” I dropped my arms and looked back. A heavy young woman stood at the doorway, wide eyed. His wife. Her tone was full of shock and disbelief. “What are you doing, Carlos?”

Then I heard Carlos shout, “What do you think you are doing?”

As I turned back to face him he hit me. I never saw it coming. I didn’t even know I had been hit until I saw my own feet in the air above me and felt my back hit the ground. He tried to kick me, but I rolled out of the way and jumped to my feet. He stood before me, his face a mask of anger and shame. “How dare you touch me like that!” he cried.

I didn’t know what to say.

“I will kill you! Get out of here, Senor, before I… Helena! Get my gun!”

“Wait a minute, Carlos,” I said.

Helena stood in mute fear, not knowing what to do.

“Wait a minute? I don’t wait a minute. I’m getting my gun!” And with that he ran for the back door.

I paused only a moment. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but I knew he had to make a show of defending his manhood. I ran for my horse, jumped on, and put the spurs to her. I heard a door slam as I hit the street and a moment later I heard an explosion behind me and a bullet whizzed over my head. There followed several more explosions. I thought I was clear, out of pistol range. I had to have been over a hundred and fifty yards from the stable when something hit me in the left side. At first I thought it was a rock. That is what it felt like. It hit me so hard I nearly fell off my horse, but I managed to hold on. I kept on riding.

After I had gone half a mile or so I slowed down. It was then that I felt something sticky on my side. I reached back to feel with my right hand and brought it back bloody. I felt around again. My shirt was actually pushed into the wound part way. I pulled it out. It had a hole in it. I felt around some more and found the bullet. It must have hit a rib and traveled under my skin, because I could feel a lump about ten inches under my left arm that wasn’t there before. I took my handkerchief out of my pocket and pressed it to the wound. My handkerchief was soon soaked, but after a while the bleeding stopped.

I didn’t think the wound was serious. The bullet hadn’t hit any organs. It was just a matter of taking it out. But I didn’t want to do that in Los Angeles. There would be questions to answer there; questions for which there were no good answers. I decided I could make it home. I would tell Pa that I had been attacked by highwaymen, or some such thing.

I see now that was a bad decision, a real bad decision; probably the last bad decision I will make, though.

I’m close to home now. Is it getting dark already? I didn’t think it was that late. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember travelling the last couple of miles. I can’t seem to remember what time of day it is. I have been in the saddle for so long… I’m getting kind of dizzy. It’s hard to focus my eyes, but I think I can see my house now. Yes, there it is – just ahead. Lucky this old mare knows her way home.

The pain doesn’t seem so bad anymore. It’s just sort of numb now.

There’s Ma, coming out on the porch. Who’s that with her?

Tom, thank God you’re home. Look who’s come to visit. It’s Billy Shaw.

Billy? Yes, it’s really him!

I’m going to get off my horse now.