Marcus was just passing through Texas when he met Kent. In his cowboy hat, low-riding jeans, and black boots, Kent looks like the type of guy Marcus desperately wants to love.<br><br>But two years later, he's discovered Kent is cold and distant, the quintessential American cowboy, and spends more time drunk than sober. Marcus can never predict his mood and blames himself for the flailing relationship.<br><br>Then, one day when Kent rides into town, Marcus finds a young runaway hiding in their barn. Luke is warm, loving, and quick to please ... everything Kent is not. Though the answer seems obvious, Marcus finds himself torn between the boy who demands his love and the man whose love he craves.

Cowboy

Maybe we won’t have to wait until Kent goes


to bed to get together. Maybe I can help Luke find release here,


and just thinking of his juices in my hand makes my jeans chafe my


own erection. I imagine him fucking into my fingers until he comes,


thick white cum that’ll slick my hand and wrist, and I’ll lick them


clean while he watches me with hooded eyes, I’ll touch the tip of


his nose with one wet finger and lick the dampness off that I leave


behind. I haven’t tasted another boy in forever, sure as hell not


Kentand his thin cum that’s more beer than anything else. I


wonder if Luke tastes like I imagine he does, sweet and maybe


slightly salty, just a little bit bitter and completely


In the living room, Kent pushes the footrest


He stands, wavers unsteadily on his feet,


then clicks off the TV. “Oh shit,” I mutter, letting Luke slip from


my fingers even as he thrusts into my palm. I tug my shirt closed,


Chapter 50