Chaps: Book 3 (Part 2) Cowboy lust, hot—dirty, and unstoppable
Chaps: Book 3 (Part 2) Cowboy lust, hot—dirty, and unstoppable
How far are these wranglers prepared to go to fulfill their rough stock lust?
The doors of the abandoned horse trailer creaked open, allowing light to stream into the dank, darkened space. Austin brushed aside a few cobwebs as he stepped inside, then turned and hauled Nash in after him. He shoved him against the back wall of the trailer, bouncing him off it.
Austin had unlatched his belt on the walk away. His Stetson discarded on the grass outside the trailer. Garrett and I held back, waiting to see what Austin had in mind. He appeared to have a plan, starting with removing Nash's hat and tossing it in the hayloft.
As Nash stood perfectly still, Austin unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, then appeared to think better of it, and ripped Nash's shirt open to the waist. He stroked his hand across his brother's chest, tweaking at his nipples, then moved down his brother's torso.
I reached over and grabbed onto Garrett's arm, my heart leaping to double time as Austin unlatched his brother's belt buckle.
"Damn …," Garrett whispered. I looked over at him, his attention captured by the scene unfolding. Austin had removed Nash's shirt, told him to kick his boots off, ditch his socks. He circled around Nash, running his hands all over his brother's body—chest, shoulders—thighs.
Nash's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling dramatically.
Austin stripped Nash's belt from the loops of his jeans, folded it in two, and tapped the robust, metal buckle to the center of Nash's chest.
Nash exhaled seductively, licked his lips, and tipped his head back, submissive.
I nudged Garrett. "I think Austin has misled us somewhat about his brother."
"Figures." Garrett laughed. "We are talking about Austin." He stepped up into the trailer, walked toward the men, took possession of Austin's face with one hand—and kissed him.
A shiver ran down my spine and coiled in my gut as their kiss deepened, hands searching for ways inside their clothing. Nash moved closer to them and stole Garrett's attention away, laying his hand on Garrett's shoulder and sealing Garrett's lips to his own.
The three men faced one another, their breath mingling within the intimate space they'd created between them, Austin's hands on the back of each man's neck—so incredibly close.
I hopped up into the trailer, my cock pressing fiercely against the fabric of my jeans. Nash released Garrett's lips, panting—flushed, his bare chest heaving with each breath. He turned toward his brother, and their hungry, wet lips closed in against each other.
My blood surged in response, swelling my cock further, aching—tight.
Garrett's lips were nearly touching theirs, his presence encouraging them, each hand on one of their shoulders, pressing them closer.
Austin returned to Garrett, taking his face in both hands, and man-handled him against the sidewall of the trailer before attacking his mouth, frantically tugging at his clothes, lifting his shirt, struggling with his belt buckle. They were both laughing like a couple of kids.
Nash turned around to face me, unzipping his pants. He let them fall to the damp floor of the trailer and kicked them aside, his semi-erect cock bobbing with each movement, his shy demeanor overtaken by desperate lust. He reached down and picked up his brother's backpack.
I peered over at Garrett. He and Austin were fully involved, oblivious to Nash and me, their jeans undone, strong hands stroking hard cocks. A slight rocking of the trailer issued a warning, metal creaking, a reminder that our location and what we were up to was precarious—easily exposed. My cock pulsed at the thought of some passerby overhearing us.
I looked back at Nash and stumbled backward a step. He'd removed a pair of worn, mahogany-brown, leather chaps from Austin's backpack and was buckling them in place around his hips. His lean, muscular chest, glistening with sweat, ended at the low-slung belt of the chaps. Beneath that, his cock remained free, exposed atop the fringed leggings that ended at his bare feet.
He turned from me, facing his brother and Garrett, his smooth, tight ass framed perfectly by a continuation of the cut-away opening. Unable to resist, I stepped up behind him and wrapped both arms around his hips, first running my fingers up his chest, then down to position them on his thighs to hold him steady, so I could press my cock up against the crease of his ass.
I nuzzled the side of Nash's neck, my lips, my tongue teasing him until he hummed and reached back for me, pleading softly for more.
I sank to my knees, nearly oblivious to the raucous sound of drunken laughter echoing through the metal hull of the trailer from the adjoining beer tent. A light breeze blew through the open doors causing the pale blond hair on the back of Nash's legs to rise.
"Turn …I want at your ass."
Nash hesitated but then turned and supported himself against the edge of the hayloft as he bent forward, the setting sun casting a soft orange glow on his skin. His tense, muscular ass filled my hands as I spread him open. I licked my thumb and circled his hole with it.
The tight ring clenched shut then reluctantly released—beautifully resistant.
Nash shifted his stance and lowered his head. I could hear him whispering calming words to himself. Perhaps, he wasn't as experienced as I had assumed.
I unlatched my buckle and hauled my jeans open, releasing my cock. Foreplay wasn't going to be an option: his quiet disposition, his willingness—those damn chaps.
Seductively innocent.
So fucking gorgeous.
Nash jumped from my touch as I rose to my feet and stroked my hard, seeping cock on his skin from his ass up along his spine.
"Be gentle," he whispered to me as I took a firm grip of his now fading cock. It responded to my touch, but he was scared. He was shaking.
Austin had been telling the truth after all.
"Of course," I assured him as genuinely as I could manage. In earnest, being gentle wasn't in my repertoire, especially when it came to sweet, virgin holes. So pensive—so timid, until the initial wave of pleasure overtook the searing pain.
I groaned against the side of Nash's neck. I'd give him a ride he wouldn't forget anytime soon. I moved my hand up across his quivering belly to his chest. The nipple I brushed with my palm was stiff and cool. I pinched it—hard, painfully so, eliciting a soft mewl of satisfaction.
Nash would be fine.
I nudged Nash in the direction of the backpack as I stroked my cock, indicating he was in charge of supply retrieval. He came back, condoms and lube in hand.
Tentatively, he approached me. His lips met mine, crushing—clinging, seeking a bond, a surety that I wouldn't harm him, as he rolled a condom into place on my cock.
His hands were shaking as he filled his palm with lube and stroked the rock-hard shaft that would soon be stretching him—filling him.
He took a step back, anxiety overwhelming his gentle, blue eyes. His demeanor of innocence and fear was firing me up to the point of near breaking, my control slipping.
I wanted to crush him against the wall, fuck him hard, fast—savage, so brutal he'd be crying—screaming, pleading for me to stop—punishing him for something that wasn't even his fault.
I steadied my breathing, placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and turned him back to face the wall. I brushed my lips back and forth across the skin at the base of his neck, the little bones protruding further as he lowered his head and steadied himself.
I adjusted my stance and pressed my throbbing cockhead against his hole. His ass tightened, instinctively attempting to bar my access. I kissed the back of his neck.
"Relax," I whispered. "I'll go slow."
Nash nodded and relaxed. I pushed up until the thick ridge of my cockhead slipped past the tight ring of his hole. He cried out softly and reached back for my hip.
"Wait …"
I closed my eyes and buried my face in his thick blond hair, inhaling the scent of dust and sweat clinging to him, attempting to temper my animalistic urge to thrust into him.
I would never—not with someone who hadn't given me the go-ahead to do so. I'd have to save all the brutality building in me for Garrett. I had no intention of being an asshole.
"Okay," he whispered, and I pushed my cock in further, slow.
"Breathe." I pressed my hips firm against his ass, gripping onto the belt of the chaps at his waist, and waited, the hot, constricting walls of his ass wrapping possessively around my shaft.
Gloriously tight.
I drew my hips back as I bit at his shoulder, partially withdrawing my cock. It was taking every bit of my tenuous restraint to keep myself from plowing back into him.
"Ready?"
A muffled, "Mm …" was Nash's only response. Gently, I drove back in, pressing my cockhead high. I smirked as a "God, yeah …harder," slipped from Nash's lips.
The rodeo was on, after all.
I pulled out entirely, slicked up my cock with more lube, and jammed straight in, burying my cock deep. I gripped Nash's hips, the feel of the thick leather beneath my fingers flashing memories of Garrett wrestling steer to the ground, his legs protected by his tan leather chaps.
I slammed up into Nash. He didn't object, only groaned and shifted his legs further apart, spreading his hands on the wall in front of him—tipping his ass up, challenging me.
Hammering a gorgeous, muscular guy against the plywood of a dingy trailer should have caused my awareness to blur, but I couldn't block out the activity in the other corner of the trailer; feet scuffling on hay, grunts, low groaning—cursing, the unmistakable sound of Garrett's exhalations as his ass was filled.
Thrusting harder, faster, I begged Nash's guttural moans to fill my ears. I stretched up and placed my hands on his, my heaving chest flat against his back, drilling him—breaking him.
Crying, begging, Nash undulated his hips, taking the full force of my cock with each assault. I lowered one hand and gripped his cock. It was hot, hard, streaming a line of pre-cum down his shaft. I stroked the tip of his cockhead with my thumb, spreading the slickness.
"God, please …" Nash thrust up into my hand, wrapped tight around his cock, then slammed his ass back against my hips, rocking—thrilling, riding me hard.
Brushing my lips to the side of his neck, I took the soft lobe of his ear between my teeth and pulled gently on it. I laughed as I released it. "So …the chaps. A fantasy of yours?"
I was curious.
I slammed Nash against the wall, my cock buried high in his ass. He sucked in a trembling breath. "Sort of," a voice beside me answered. I hadn't noticed that Austin had wandered over to where Nash and I were currently preoccupied, Garrett at his side.
"It's my fantasy." Austin brushed his hand down his brother's back, from his shoulders to the base of his spine. He played his fingers at the base of my cock, stroking the thin sliver of flesh between his brother's body and mine. A shiver ran up my spine.
I withdrew my cock, lazily—deliberately, watching the shift of mounting desire in Austin's eyes. He wrapped his hand around my shaft, stroking it.
"Fuck him," he whispered as he pressed my cockhead back against his brother's ass, circling his hole with it. "I want to see you fuck him."
I groaned with exhilaration and slid back into Nash's ass, clinging to the belt of the chaps. Austin reached past me and placed both his hands on Nash's ass, stretching him open. He licked his lips, humming, as he watched the rhythmic pummeling of his brother's hole.
I tipped my head back, tipsy—distant, alive only to the pure pleasure coursing through me. I closed my eyes, sighing—Garrett's hands on my shoulders, his fingers stroking my arms—Austin's lips back on mine. Our mouths capturing one another in slow motion—devouring, desperate.
I adjusted my grip on Nash's hips, steadied my pace, ecstasy building in my gut, the taste of beer and sweet, smoky barbeque ribs infusing my senses as Austin's tongue forced its way past my lips. I slipped one hand off Nash's hip and used it to secure Austin to me.
I moaned into Austin's mouth, nearly releasing my hold on him as Garrett's hand breached the back of my jeans. Each thrust of my hips closed tight around the wet finger he'd slipped high into my ass.
Garrett nipped at the back of my ear, laughing softly. "I want you again," he growled against the skin of my neck, then licked the tiny hairs there, sending shivers through my entire body.
Garrett hauled my jeans off my hips in one smooth motion, his cockhead poised to thrust into me—take me to places only he was capable of—
The searing pain had me tightening my grip on Nash's hips. I slipped my cock from his ass and leaned forward to receive Garrett's. My ass was still loose but extremely tender. I couldn't stop myself from crying out. Luckily, it was muffled by Austin's increasing attention, his lips covering mine, his hot, wet tongue exploring—claiming.
Garrett rocked his hips, forcing his cock high inside me. I used the forward thrust impaling me to force my cock deep into Nash's ass again.
Nash stumbled forward a step but managed to steady himself, redistributing the combined force coming at him by adjusting the placement of his hands on the wall.
The frenzied attempt to remain joined was rough at first, out of time, clumsy, but we soon found our rhythm. Encased in Nash's tight, warm ass—a velvety hold, driving me. My own ass filled, Garrett's arms wrapped around my chest, clutching me to him.
I pushed Austin aside, my desire becoming focused, drilling Nash's perfect ass, the fringe of his chaps, tick-tick-ticking with each thrust as they slapped against the leggings.
I rolled my head back, resting it against Garrett's collarbone. His breath—his touch, I needed more. I whispered his name—cried out for him.
"Goddammit, Dirk …" Garrett's hand found its way to my throat and encircled it possessively. He pulled me backward, toward the rear of the trailer away from Nash, growling and muttering under his breath. The fresh air swirled around my hard, aching cock.
Austin smirked at me, dropped to his knees, and removed the condom I'd been using on his brother. Nash exhaled, cursing, and licked his lips as Austin slid the entire length of my cock into his throat. I nearly came. Austin at my feet, devouring my cock—Nash looking on, stroking his own cock. Garrett where he was meant to be, his cock buried deep in my ass.
Nash stepped closer, jerking and twisting his cock, grunting. Thick droplets of Nash's cum splattered onto my stomach and the back of Austin's hand, still enveloping my cock as he turned to watch his brother release his load.
Garrett slipped his hand around from where he'd been gripping my hip and pushed Austin's hand away from my cock. He took a step back and wrapped both arms around my waist, pinning me tight against him, panting in my ear—and whispering something I couldn't make out.
His cock slid from my ass, and he turned me around and pressed my back to the wall. He hauled his jeans up and dropped to his knees, his hands moving roughly up my thighs to hold me in place. Before taking my cock into his mouth, he looked up at me, his eyes soft—sad, his lashes damp. I stroked my fingers through his hair—not sure what to say, if anything.
I closed my eyes as his familiar and exquisite mouth encased my cock. Moments—barely enough time to gasp …and I was clutching handfuls of Garrett's thick hair in both hands, my hips bucking forward—carnal ecstasy erupting in warm release.
"Damn," Austin whispered from somewhere near the front end of the trailer. He strolled up out of the relative darkness. The sun was almost down. "You guys should have told me."
Garrett rose to his feet and turned to face Austin. "Told you what?" His voice sounded gruff, agitated. "There's nothing to tell."
"Fine." Austin shrugged and grabbed the backpack Nash handed him. I lifted my jeans up off the floor. Somehow, in the time since Garrett had taken me away from Nash, he and Austin had righted themselves—dressed, jeans and shirts, boots and hats, chaps parceled away.
As Austin and Nash moved past us, Austin stopped and placed his hand on Garrett's shoulder. "There was a time when fooling around with the two of you was strictly about sex. No drama, no playing for keeps—no commitments." He sighed and patted Garrett's cheek. "That is not what happened here today. You may want to figure out why that is."
CHAPS; Rodeo Boys #3 Copyright © 2018 by Gavin E. Black