I don't know why I felt like I did that day. I just woke up wanting to get fucked and I knew who I wanted to do it. Raj was this old Indian guy who ran a small shop. He was short and hairy and had a big belly. Nice guy. We always had a little chat when I went in there, and at first I hadn't thought of him in a sexual way. That day, though, in my mind he just...
Steve lay on his back with his legs in the air. He was alone in his flat. The air was perfumed by a lavender massage oil which he had smeared around and in his anus. In his hand now was a saucepan. He wanted to see whether his arse could cope with a sizeable penis. He had done this with candles, but he hoped to land a guy with a bit more than that. The sauce...
Don had a clear view of Tom through the tent's netting. He moved about the small campfire to adjust a misbehaving log. The best part was, Tom naked as a jaybird. He looked rather like an Indian with bare feet and his bronzed back glistening from the flames. Don studied his best friend. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the muscular, ripped man with long wavy b...
It was my first time going to Cheyenne Frontier Days. I wanted to write this as soon as I got home because it was and still so vivid in my mind. We were walking along some vendor booths and enjoying all of the nice people and the weather when all of a sudden an older man riding a road bike pulls up close to the walkway and stopped and got off his bike and st...
"Maybe you best take it easy on the rotgut," Skinner said as the man at the bar raised his empty glass again. "That's your third shot in less than ten minutes. The ass isn't gonna be ready for you any sooner than it is. It's a busy night. Friday nights are always busy at the Buckhead ranch, and this was a payday here abouts. At this rate you gonna be well pa...
The Coffee Shop IV: Sex, Lies & Duct Tape. Disclaimer. The following story, is a work of fiction. The characters portrayed within are a work of fiction as well, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead is a coincidence and unintentional. Copyright 2001. This story is the property of the author, Canadian Cowboy (formerly known as Animal360). Any...
I heard my name being called out from the midst of the teeming horde pressing in on the barriers after customs in New Delhi's Indira Gandhi international airport, and a head and arm waving a sign was bouncing up and down over the tumult. The sign the young man was carrying said "Clifford Jenkins" with "New York" written under it. That was me. But I wasn't be...
Driving across London might not be the longest journey in the world, but it's a slow one. I had been in this little Toyota for half an hour and we were still a long way from home. The driver was Asian, a short, stocky guy wearing a white shirt and khaki shorts, which I thought was unusual, even in the height of summer. He looked quite smart, but not like a c...
"Havin' a good time with that there Double O calf, are you?" Cal looked up. The guy wasn't much older than he was. Some sort of half breed, but on him it looked good. Probably some Mexican in him. But not all that much, just enough to give him sultry dark looks, deep-tanned skin, more than the sun alone would do and more uniform too, and black, curly hair....
Everybody was decked out in cowboy boots, jeans, and bandannas at the afternoon barbecue. Of course, Derek with his sleeveless button-up shirt, tight jeans (with a big buckle belt), and cowboy boots looked like the Playgirl cover model for the cowboys issue. Everyone watched him swagger around the patio. Karen gave him a cowboy hat, and every gay guy and str...