by Dana Ely
Rating: NC-17 for the graphic description of male-male sex.
Author's Note: This story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #3, published by Neon RainBow Press, Cinda Gillilan and Jody Norman, editors. Story lasted edited 7-11-2005. The art was done by Shiloh (email@example.com).
"I really am very sorry, gentlemen," the manager said for the tenth time since Buck Wilmington and Ezra Standish had arrived at the capitol's best hotel, less than a half-hour earlier. "If the Duchess had just informed us of your arrival sooner…" He trailed off, shaking his head, as he inserted a key into the ornate lock set into a thick, polished oak door and opened it.
He entered the room first, his nervous gaze sweeping over the interior of the third best suite in his hotel. Everything appeared to be in place - food, drink, wood for the fireplace, flowers. He sniffed the air, catching the soft scent of sweet oils in the two waiting hot baths in the bathing room. "I'm sure we can-"
"This will do, I suppose," Ezra told the anxious man.
Stepping in behind him, Buck looked around, a grin on his lips. He was getting tired of watching the hotel manager fidget, and he'd heard more than enough apologizing. All he wanted was a hot bath, a good meal and a good night's sleep. Oh, and a little time alone with Ezra to celebrate their good fortune at the poker tables, thanks, he was sure to the "Duchess" - who, was really Ezra's mother, but neither of them saw any reason to interfere with her latest con.
"Are you absolutely sure?" the manager asked, wringing his hands.
"Absolutely," Buck replied, trying to suppress a smile as he glanced around at the almost frilly décor, the flowers, and the large, cold hearth.
"Well, if you're sure. . ."
"Absolutely sure," Ezra echoed, wanting the man to leave. "Thank you."
The manager nodded, the motion reminding both men of a chicken bobbing for grain. "There are fresh baths already prepared, and new clothes await you in the wardrobe. Oh, and a meal will be sent up for you at precisely six this evening, compliments of the Duchess. The bar is stocked, and-"
"Why don't you just let us explore for ourselves?" Buck interrupted.
The manager's eyes rounded, his gaze darting between the ladies' man's face and the gun tied down on his leg. "Yes. Why, yes, of course. Fine. Fine. I'll leave you gentlemen, then."
"That would be appreciated," Ezra said, stepping forward two paces and forcing the manager to back out into the hall. When he opened his mouth - no doubt to apologize again - the gambler closed the door and turned the lock. It clicked loudly into place.
"Nervous little fella, don't you think?" Buck asked with a grin and a shake of his head.
Ezra turned, then nodded, a grin of his own on his face. "Well, you have to admit, it isn't every day he has a Duchess and her 'local guides' registered in his hotel." He shook his head as he glanced around the comfortable room. "I cannot believe Mother has drawn us into this latest scheme of hers. This is so… indecorous."
"What? That we're in the Honeymoon Suite?" Buck asked him with a licentious grin, walking over to toss the saddlebags he'd been carrying over his shoulder onto a plush, rose-colored chair. Ezra handed him his as well and they were dropped on top.
"I'm sure they could have moved someone else in here," the gambler said, crossing the room and grabbing his friend by the arms. "We did it!"
Buck met Ezra's excited gaze, grinning like a madman. Then he whooped as loudly as he could. "That we did!" He grabbed the gambler's arms and spun him around.
They lurched around the room in a parody of dance, laughing and shouting in wild abandon. They were both flush with more money than either man had ever had at one time.
Finally, out of breath, they both collapsed onto the biggest feather bed they had ever seen. They lay on top of the white, lace-covered spread, trying to catch their breaths.
"We're rich," Buck gasped. "Rich!"
"Yes, that certainly has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Sure does, Ez. It sure does." Buck sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around the suite again. He giggled. The Honeymoon Suite. He chuckled a little louder as he shook his head. He would always remember the manager's scandalized expression when he had been forced to tell them that they would be staying in the suite usually reserved for newlyweds. He glanced over at the gambler. Guess we qualify, he thought. After all, they hadn't been lovers all that long themselves. Not that he could tell the manager about that. The slender, chicken-necked man would have probably fallen over in a dead faint if he had. The mental image made Wilmington chuckle again.
The Duchess's escort was staying in the "Governor's Suite" - the second best accommodations in the hotel - since the "Duchess," visiting royalty from a country neither Buck nor Ezra had ever heard of before, had already taken the "Presidential Suite" - the very best the hotel had to offer. That left the Honeymoon Suite for her "local guides," or so the press was describing them in the articles being published across the country, announcing the royal visit.
"No more paydays t' worry about," Buck sighed, wiggling deeper into the huge feather bed.
"I'll have my saloon and maybe a hotel as well," Ezra added. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt. Relief, joy, and fear about their future all surged through him, one dominating one moment another the next. "I have to admit, I wasn't sure I'd ever actually see this day…"
"I sure as hell never thought I'd see this kind of money in my lifetime," the ladies' man admitted. He reached out and rested a hand on Ezra's back. "Your mother, she's quite a woman." He grinned up at the gambler, even though Ezra was staring off across the room, apparently at the huge collection of flowers that sat on a small round table, taking up one corner of the room. "I'm goin' t' split my take with the others. How about you?"
Ezra nodded absently, then shook his head. "Well, after I purchase the saloon, and the hotel… perhaps a mercantile as well."
"And we're stayin' in the best hotel in the whole damn territory," Buck continued, not even really hearing Ezra's comments.
Ezra looked down, meeting Buck's playful gaze. "In the Honeymoon Suite."
Both men dissolved into gales of laughter, Ezra eventually flopping back onto the bed, holding his sides as they began to ache.
Buck hiccupped, then said, "Maybe we better go take that bath, before the water gets cold."
"An excellent idea, my good man," the gambler agreed, sitting up, still holding his ribs. He stood, continuing to laugh softly as he quickly undressed, tossing his clothes into a waiting woven basket sitting empty next to the cedar wardrobe. Someone would fetch them to the laundress tomorrow.
Buck did the same. Then, naked, they headed into the second room, finding the water still steaming. They climbed into the twin clawfoot tubs, sinking into the welcome warmth with echoing contented sighs.
"Now this is the way to live," Ezra said, sliding beneath the water until his chin was touching the surface.
"I couldn't agree more," Buck replied, resting back against the tub, his eyes closing. A few minutes later, he reached for the scented bar of soap and the scrub brush waiting for him on a small stool positioned next to the tub. "How long do you think we can stay?"
"I'm not sure. Mother cannot hope to keep up this charade for too long. But I say we make a tour of all the best hotels on our way back," Ezra suggested. "I'm sure we can afford it, even if just one of the offers we have been getting is only half-honest."
Buck shot the gambler a surprised look. "You're really goin' ta let some eastern dandy write about your life?"
The gambler shrugged, then sat up and reached for his own soap and brush. As he worked up a lather he asked, "Why not? Mr. Steele has already blazed the path." Ezra's expression turned serious and he met Buck's curious blue gaze. "But would be nice to have the real story out there, too?" he said, his own green eyes twinkling mischievously. "For posterity, you understand."
Buck made a face. "Hell, Ezra, we don't have any posterity."
"Yet," the gambler replied, the wicked twinkle in his eyes still dancing merrily.
Buck tried to look hurt, but it was hard - impossible, in fact. He knew that look, and it made his groin tingle pleasantly. If the past was any guide, it was going to be a very interesting evening. "What're you sayin'? You plannin' to start lookin' for a wife? Make some posterity?" he continued, enjoying the fact that he could tease the gambler. The last month or so had been tense - bank robbers, Ella Gains, and a couple of bounty hunters almost catching up to Vin before the telegraph arrived, sending he and Ezra on an errand for the Judge. And that had brought them to Denver, where they had crossed paths with Maude and made their fortune.
"Maybe," Ezra said, his eyebrows peaking and his tone considering. Then his voice shifted into a husky promise. "But not tonight. I have other plans for tonight."
"I was hopin' you'd say that." The wolfish grin Buck leveled on him made the gambler squirm in anticipation.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
A half-hour later the two men were scrubbed clean and dressed in the respectable suits that they had found hanging in the wardrobe.
"How do you think they knew these fancy clothes would fit the two of us?" Buck asked as he knelt, building a small fire in the fireplace.
"I would be willing to wager that the little man with the measuring tape who was sneaking around behind us over in the Governor's office the day before yesterday might have had something to do with it."
God, had it only been that long? Buck wondered. They had been tasked to carry papers from Judge Travis and the Territorial Governors of Arizona and new Mexico to the Governor of Colorado, the trip a long one, but it had taken such an unusual twist since they had reached Denver, it was hard to keep it all straight.
A knock at the door scattered Buck's thoughts and he walked over to answer it while Ezra's little sleeve gun slipped into his palm.
Wilmington paused, looking back over his shoulder. "I don't think you're gonna need that," he said.
"Just protecting my investment capital," Ezra told him.
Shaking his head, Buck turned and opened the door. In the hall was a pretty young woman, standing behind a cart that rode on two large wheels. Stacked on the rolling device were several china plates and bowls, each covered by silver lids.
"Your dinner, sir," she said, an Irish accent clear. She kept her gaze down, and dipped slightly on one knee.
"Well, thank you, honey, it smells wonderful," Buck said, stepping back to allow her to roll the cart into the room.
She did, then set the brake and swiftly transferred the plates and bowls to the two-person dining table sitting in another corner of the room. Once that was done, she removed the silver lids, poured their first cups of coffee from a silver serving pot, leaving it on the sideboard, then lit the five candles in the candelabrum taking up the center of the table.
Buck tipped her generously, and with a smile, blush and another curtsey she took the cart and left.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
The two men sat down to enjoy their steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh vegetables, and biscuits with fresh churned butter and wild honey. They washed it all down with coffee - the best either man had tasted, outside of San Francisco and New Orleans, Ezra said - and expensive brandy from the small bar. But they saved the best for last - two huge slices of homemade peach pie, still warm.
When they finished, they carried their desserts and brandy over to the hearth where the small fire Ezra had started earlier was now snapping merrily on the hearth. Setting their plates down for a moment, they pulled over two of the plush chairs and sat down to finish their meal in the warm glow of the fire.
"You know, I could get used to this," Buck admitted after savoring his first bite of pie and sighing contentedly.
"Well, the way I see it - the way you tell stories," Ezra said, "you ought to be able to talk a fortune out of those eastern publishers."
The ladies' man grinned. "Maybe, but I'm thinking I might invest some of the money in those new machines I told you about."
"Electric lights, a moving picture machine?"
Buck nodded. "Those very ones. I don't know what it is, but I have a hunch that this Edison fella might be on to something. He's pretty smart. I read about him in the same monthly that was talkin' about animal magnetism."
The gambler snorted and shook his head. "Whatever you want, Buck," he replied around another bite of pie. His eyes closed as he enjoyed the wonderful taste. After he swallowed, he added, "I plan to invest in real estate."
"Whatever ya say, Ez," Buck said as he leaned forward and set his empty plate on the hearth. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his legs and took another swallow of the expensive brandy, a comfortable buzz starting in his head. "Did you see that bunch of telegrams waiting for your Mother? Ya think those are all marriage proposals like she said?"
Ezra smiled. "Probably."
Buck chuckled softly. "I looked at a few of 'em. There's no less than five marriage proposals, three book offers, and six invitations to drop in and meet various politicians between here and New York City. And that was just in the first fifteen telegrams."
Ezra thought for a moment. "What was the fifteenth one about?"
The ladies' man grinned. "An invitation to join a traveling show."
Ezra's expression brightened further. "Now that might be an interesting avenue for my mother."
Buck nodded. "They're headed to Europe in a few months and invited her to come along, as a sponsor with top billing, no less."
Ezra looked like a small boy who had just heard the circus was coming to town and he'd been personally invited. "That must be it!"
"What?" Buck asked him.
"She's planning a quick escape to Europe. She's always wanted to see Europe, meet some Kings and Queens, marry in real money."
"Well, if anyone can pull it off, it's Maude," Buck said.
"Too true," Ezra agreed. "And she can make a fortune, if she throws in with the right traveling show. She'd get a percent of the take at each performance. That should be more than enough for her to enjoy the trip."
Buck gulped down the rest of his brandy, then set the glass down and stood. He tilted his head back and howled, loudly, as he threw his arms wide. Then, "Well, I say, good for her!" he crowed. "We're rich!"
Ezra watched, a hungry smile slipping onto his lips. Then Buck did the unexpected. He reached up and pulled off his jacket. His vest and shirt quickly followed. The gambler frowned.
"Buck, what are you doing?"
Giggling like a madman, Buck bounced down on the edge of the big feather bed and pulled off his boots, tossing them over next to the wardrobe, then stood and pulled off his fancy pants and long underwear.
Then, naked as the day he was born, Buck Wilmington climbed up onto the bed, and, standing in the middle, began jumping up and down, whooping like a crazed Indian gone on the warpath.
For a moment Ezra was stunned into inaction. He just sat, staring at his lover, worried that the man had gone mad. But then his gaze wandered to the man's cock, flapping against his belly and thighs, and he grinned. That grin exploded into a broad smile.
Ezra pushed to his feet, undressing as quickly as he could. And, once he was naked as well, he darted to the bed, jumping up next to Buck and hollering right alongside him. At some unspoken cue, they both tilted their heads back and howled like wolves.
Buck reached down, grabbing a pillow. He swung it at Ezra, the soft weapon bouncing harmlessly off the man's shoulder.
Ezra grabbed for a weapon of his own.
The two men bounced on the bed, pillows swinging, soft thuds punctuated by infectious giggles and the strained squeak of bedsprings. Then Ezra pulled his pillow back and swung with all his might. He caught Buck on the hip, almost toppling him over and setting his arms to whipping around like windmills. But the gambler's pillow also exploded in a rush of goosedown that rained down on the two men and the bed.
The look on Buck's face made Ezra laugh so hard he had to sit down in the middle of the bed, watching the fluffy feathers drift slowly toward the floor like spring snowflakes.
"Oh good heavens," Ezra muttered, staring mournfully at the wad of cloth in his hand.
Buck fell over, roaring and holding his sides as laughter strained the muscles already stretched tight over his ribs. Tears filled his eyes and he fought vainly to catch his breath. And every time Buck thought he finally had himself under control again, the gambler would look at him, or giggle, or blow a feather off his nose and the whole process would start all over again.
It took several minutes before Buck could finally sit up again. When he could, he crawled off the bed and collected their empty glasses. He carried them over to the bar and poured them each some more brandy, bringing them back over to the bed and holding one out to Ezra, who took it.
"A toast," Buck said.
Ezra held up his glass. "A toast," he echoed.
They were both a little drunk, but neither man cared.
"To . . . money in your pocket," Buck said.
"To money," Ezra repeated reverently, and they both took a swallow. "And to… honeymoon suites," he added.
Buck grinned. "To our long awaited honeymoon."
They finished their drinks in a single gulp, then Ezra took Buck's glass and set both down on the hearth. When he turned back to the bed, he found the infamous ladies' man standing behind him, his poker starting to look interested. Grinning, the gambler took the three steps necessary to join the man, and, reaching out, slid his hand down Buck's bare back until he held the curve of the man's ass in his palm. Wilmington's butt was firm, the skin smooth except for a light covering of downy hair and a few feathers. The gambler growled low in his chest and pulled Buck's groin hard against his own. Their mouths came together in a hungry, grinding kiss.
Buck's hands moved to Ezra's chest, plucking off several feathers, then squeezed and twisted his nipples, making the gambler inhale sharply, sucking the air from Buck's mouth and making both their cocks leap in anticipation. Wilmington moaned softly and pressed his groin harder against Ezra's.
The gambler moaned in reply, beginning a slow exploration of Buck's body while their kiss deepened, tongues struggling for dominance one moment and submitting the next. He slid both hands around Wilmington's waist, narrow and tight, not a trace of the easy life to be found. The sinews of the man's back moved beneath his hands as he continued the caress, his fingers occasionally digging into willing muscles and prompting a groan or a thrust from the man's hips.
Ezra knew without having to reach down to Buck's groin that his lover's cock was already fully hard and definitely eager. A plan began to take shape in his nimble mind.
Holding Wilmington tight, still kissing him, Ezra deftly tipped his lover over.
Losing his balance, Buck fell back onto the feather bed, Ezra landing on top of him, knocking the wind from his lungs and ending the passionate kiss. They laughed as a feather leaped into the air, but their hands moved across each other's bodies, teasing, caressing, hungry.
"I love your laugh," Buck whispered softly against the man's neck, then moved before Ezra could, sliding down between the man's legs. The gambler's hard, slightly pink cock, with its hood of dewy foreskin, throbbed in front of his face.
For a moment, Buck couldn't move. He stared, admiring the man who had been his friend, his partner, and, more recently, his lover. He was beautiful, and Buck felt desire sweep over him in a wave that carried away reason, leaving only demanding passion behind.
Reaching out, he caressed Ezra's balls. The sac was the same shade of golden pink as his poker, and covered in soft, brown fuzz. He tried to force himself to go slow, but the closed hood of the gambler's foreskin, moist and sticky with precome, was too much, and he surrendered to his need.
Buck curled his fingers around Ezra, feeling the man's heat swell against his palm, then lowered his lips to the tip of wrinkled skin. The familiar salty-sweet taste filled his mouth and he nibbled and sucked on the loose folds of skin for a moment, enjoying the man's unique taste. It went straight to his head faster than any alcohol he'd ever tried. Then he drew the hood back, exposing the shiny shell-pink flesh beneath. The tiny slit pulsed and a stream of clear liquid leaked out. Buck licked it away, then stuck his tongue beneath the protective sheath of skin and swirled it all over the head.
"Yessss," Ezra moaned softly, his fingers curling into Buck's dark hair.
Wilmington sucked slowly, letting the shaft slide down his throat for a time, then lingered over the sensitive peak until Ezra stopped him just short of coming.
"Buck, stop," he gasped, forcing the man's head up.
Wilmington grinned. "What do ya want, stud?"
"You know what I want," the gambler groaned.
Buck's grin widened. "I can give ya what you want, but ya have to let me go."
Ezra smiled, but he let go. Buck stood and hurried to the chair where their saddlebags still sat, his poker leading the way. Behind him the gambler erupted into howls of laughter. He turned, wondering what had set the man off.
Ezra tried to talk, but he couldn't, so he shook his head and pointed.
Wilmington's forehead wrinkled and he glanced down at himself, finding nothing unusual. He looked back at the gambler, who managed to roll over onto his side and slap his butt. Buck twisted, trying to get a look at his own ass. It was almost covered with feathers. Giggling, he rubbed them off. That done, he turned back to the task at hand.
It only took him a moment to find the bottle of oil, wrapped in a piece of cloth. He tossed the cloth aside and carried the bottle back to where Ezra was ready and waiting. The gambler had piled the remaining pillows near the middle of the bed, and was draped over them, his ass poking up into the air, a clear invitation.
Unable to resist the offer, Buck teased his lover's hole until Ezra begged, "No more, please. You promised."
Buck chuckled lowly, but he poured some of the oil into his hand, rubbing it over his eager cock. Then he dribbled a little more down the crack of the gambler's ass, making him jerk and squirm. And, finally, he rubbed some into his lover's hole, using one finger, then two while he watched the muscle grasp at him like a greedy mouth. He set the bottle on the bedside table.
"Hurry," Ezra breathed, his ass squirming.
Moving behind his lover, Buck pulled his own foreskin back and pressed the tip of his slicked cock into the cleft of his lover's ass, then took hold of the man's waist and rolled forward slowly, allowing his poker to find its own way.
As the round head touched the gambler's hole, Buck felt the man relax, willing him inside. "You can do it," he urged.
Ezra pushed back, forcing in the head of the waiting cock.
Buck sighed as his crown was captured by the tight, warm walls of flesh. "Oh gawd," he groaned, fighting the desire to ram himself all the way into the tight passage.
Ezra continued to work himself back onto Buck's poker, devouring him inch by glorious inch until his lean buttocks were pressed tightly against the man's pelvis.
Buck slid his hands down between Ezra's thighs and gripped him there, holding him in place while he savored the overwhelming sensation of being buried inside his lover. Then he let go and pulled out halfway. He thrust forward, burying himself a second time.
"Oh gawd," he repeated.
Ezra turned his head, and Buck leaned over his lover's back, kissing him over his shoulder. As he sucked on the gambler's tongue, his hips jerked in fast, short thrusts that forced himself in even deeper.
As Buck pumped, Ezra wiggled his ass until he found the right angle. They both grunted and sighed, their tongues still dueling, their bodies already wet with sweat.
Breaking the kiss, Buck leaned back, his hands gripping Ezra's hips. He pulled back until only the head of his cock remained trapped inside the hot, tight tunnel, then shoved hard, sliding all the way back inside.
The gambler moaned and ground his ass against Buck's groin. Wilmington's back arched in reply, his fingers digging into Ezra's hips.
"Again," the gambler begged and Buck complied, ramming into the man several times with abandon.
"I'm close," Ezra cried softly.
"I want to see you," Buck said. "Turn over."
Ezra nodded, understanding what his lover wanted.
Wilmington pulled out and knelt on the bed. Ezra quickly rolled over, knocking the pillows out of the way, and wrapped his legs around the man's waist. He lifted his hips while Buck gripped the base of his own cock, holding himself steady while Ezra worked himself back down on the thick poker. When Buck was once again buried as deeply as he could get, they paused, catching their breaths.
Wilmington laughed as he leaned forward slightly, plucking several more feathers off the gambler's chest.
Ezra squeezed his muscles, letting Buck know he was ready.
Holding the gambler's ass in both his hands, Buck drove into him, gently and slowly at first, then as hard and as fast as he possibly could. His gaze was locked on the man's face. The gambler's eyes were glazed over, the man lost in the pleasure that was overwhelming him.
Buck leaned forward, sucking one, then the other of Ezra's nipples into his mouth, making the gambler's back arch and driving Wilmington in deeper.
The former ladies' man leaned back, a hungry smile on his face. "Touch yourself, Ez," he urged. "I want to watch you."
Ezra began to stroke his own cock, peeling the foreskin back and forth to the same rhythm Buck pounded into his ass. Then he began to jerk faster, his soft cries becoming more erratic.
"That's it," Buck said. "Do you feel me? I'm close, Ez, so close."
Ezra's cock spattered precome all over his chest and stomach.
"I'm gonna shoot my seed into ya, Ez. Are ya ready?" Buck asked, then jerked wildly, pounding into the man's ass as deeply as he could.
With a final cry, Ezra erupted, shooting long strands of come all over his and Buck's chests. At the same time, his hole gripped Wilmington's cock so tightly that the man couldn't fight his building eruption. It had already started, deep inside of him, a tingling in his balls and his ass, demanding to be set free, but the squeeze of those hot walls of flesh on his poker was too much to be ignored.
Buck's own cries rose in pitch, joining the gambler's as his load exploded, again and again, firing into the depths of Ezra's bowels, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
When he was finally released from the fist of passion, Buck slumped over the gambler, panting for breath as his cock slowly softened somewhat. When he finally slipped free, he laid down beside Ezra, one hand stroking over the man's chest, rubbing come all over his skin, occasionally pausing to rub the still-hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger. "That feel good?" he asked Standish.
"Oh yes," Ezra purred, his own hand reaching down to stroke Wilmington's half-hard cock. "Very good."
"I aim to please."
"I do believe I would like to make you say please," Ezra whispered, giving the cock in his hand a squeeze. It jerked in reply.
"Mmm," Buck said, closing his eyes. This was the part he liked best. He almost always took Ezra first, their resulting orgasms making the gambler more proddy and him more relaxed. Then, once they had caught their breaths, it was time for the second hand to be played. And Buck was more than happy to let Ezra take over.
Standish moved, the bed shifting. Then the gambler's lips were on Buck's nipples, kissing, sucking, pulling. The Wilmington moaned softly, feeling his cock jerk slightly against his leg. It would take Ezra a few minutes to coax him back to life, but they were always very pleasurable minutes with the man's lips, tongue, and hands exploring him, drawing him from the lethargy of his orgasm.
Buck lay, enjoying the sensations being played on his body as if it were some erotic instrument, letting Ezra do whatever he wanted, and what the conman seemed to want this time was what Buck had just had. Well, that was just fine as far as he was concerned, too.
After another assault on Wilmington's nipples, Ezra rolled the man onto his side. Buck heard the scrape as the gambler pulled the bottle of oil off the table. A few moments later he felt the first nudge of a fingertip at his hole. He sighed deeply, enjoying the sensation as Ezra first rubbed over the puckered opening several times, then pressed into him, sinking to the second knuckle.
Then Ezra paused, twisting his finger around carefully, checking to see how relaxed Buck was. When he was sure he wasn't resisting at all, he pulled his finger back out, then inserted two oil-coated digits, pressing them in until they were buried to his palm.
Buck moaned softly and shifted slightly to allow Ezra to press in deeper still.
With his free hand, the gambler stroked the inside of Buck's thighs, the cheeks of his ass, his balls. He poured more oil over Buck's ass, and when the former ladies' man was bucking back against his fingers, he knew it was time.
He pulled his fingers out, then poured some more of the oil over his hard cock. Once that was done he rolled Buck over onto his back, positioned a pillow under his hips and lifted his legs, hooking Wilmington's knees over his shoulders.
Buck's eyes remained closed as Ezra pulled his butt cheeks open, his cock slipping between then, poking at the well-slicked opening. He leaned forward and pressed hard, the head of his poker popping into the hot opening. He bucked automatically and Wilmington wriggled. He was buried halfway up the hot chute.
Buck sighed contentedly, his eyes remaining closed as he enjoyed the sensations that raced through his body as Ezra's cock slowly continued to fill him up. He felt his own poker stiffen, pressing hard against the gambler's belly, oil and sweat making it slip and slide over the man's skin. He moaned.
Standish savored the heat that sheathed him for a moment, then started pulling out slow and easy, not stopping until he felt Buck's hole grab hold of the swollen flange of his crown, trapping him inside. He rocked back in gently, burying himself again. Reaching up and pressing the man's leg to his chest, he pushed in a little deeper, signing with pleasure.
"That's good, Ez… real good," Buck whispered, his fingers scrabbling against the gambler's flanks, trying to find a good grip and pull him in farther.
Ezra grinned as he rocked slowly, gently, staying buried deep inside of Buck, and the man seemed to enjoy it . . . for a while. Then he jerked his hips, trying to force him in deeper. When that didn't work, he tried to press his ass down, making the gambler pull out a little, but Ezra was too much in control and he wasn't able to do either.
Buck's eyes opened. "Come on, Ez," he pleaded.
"Say it, Buck."
Dark blue eyes locked on green and the corners of Wilmington's lips twitched. "Please?"
"It would be my decided pleasure," Ezra replied as he pulled back and sank in.
Wilmington bucked up to meet the motion, wanting more. He growled low in his throat.
Ezra heard the sound, and knew what it meant. He picked up the pace, thrusting hard, riding Buck like the man wanted.
"Yeah," the man sighed, his head rolling from side to side as he danced on the gambler's cock, his own erection trying to knife into the man's lower belly. "Oh, yeah."
They continued for several minutes, then Buck's hole spasmed and Ezra began bucking as hard as he could, prodding Wilmington's swollen prostate and making him whimper.
"God… Ez," he managed. "'M gonna… come." Buck grunted and howled as the first tingles of organism made the hairs on his balls stand on end. He bucked harder, faster, then started shooting, coating Ezra's belly with his seed.
The feel of hot come whipping across his skin was the last straw for the gambler. He pistoned in and out, churning his hips, his torso squirming against Buck's cock as his balls slapped against the man's ass. He gave a small whimper, but thrust again, the whimper getting louder, longer.
Buck reached out, grabbing Ezra's balls and tugging on them even though they were pulled up tight against the base of his cock. In response, the gambler pulled almost all the way out, then slid back in with a last hard thrust. Buck squeezed his muscles, and the whimper turned into a long groan.
Standish's body spasmed and he thrashed, pumping a steady load of come up Buck's ass, one pulse after another. Finally he collapsed on top of his partner, his face buried against his neck. "Oh… so good," he sighed.
"Yeah," Wilmington agreed, wrapping his arms around Ezra's sweat-coated back.
After a moment they moved, scooting up to the head of the bed, dragging pillows up with them. They snuggled together under the covers, sweat and come drying or soaking into the sheets. Within moments they were both sleeping.
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