Home On The Range

Tony crested the hill, and leaned forward on the saddle. Below him lay a valley.
There was a river running though it, and Tony grinned – it was about time. The
last three days had been dry camps, and he was getting very tired of his own
stink. But there was river water for washing and maybe some fresh fish. He heard
Mark ride up next to him and heard him sigh.

"Isn't that about the nicest thing you have seen?"

Mark took the lead as they made their way down into the valley. Tony kept
looking at Mark, his back straight, and Tony could just catch a glimpse of his
jean-covered butt in the saddle.

A camp. A real camp. It had been used before. A fire ring was in front of a huge
boulder. That boulder would help reflect the heat of the fire. Mark had his
horse hobbled, and took off his jean jacket and his shirt. His broad chest was
dusted with hair. Tony loved Mark's hairy chest; it was wide across the pecs and
then it narrowed down to that wonderful treasure trail. He heeled off his boots,
and his dusty dirty jeans came down with his briefs. With a whoop, he splashed
into the river. Tony hobbled his horse, and was just as quick to strip down.
Three days of dry camps – the sweat and the dirt – was too much he almost tore
off his own clothing, and then followed Mark into the cold water of the river.

"Oh, to be clean," he thought. Mark's arm hugged him; his body slick with water.
Mark's hand cracked across Tony's butt.

"Did you bring the soap?"

Tony leaned into the hug and shook his head. He was in too much of a rush to
just get clean. Already he felt better. Mark slapped Tony's butt hard, and
climbed out and walked to the horses. Tony had his hand resting on the burning
handprint as he watched Mark unload the saddles and the packhorse; watched his
lover – his strong body moving with grace and strength. When Mark bent over, his
male ass was a delight to see. Mark rummaged though their packs, and brought out
the soap and the bag where they put their clothing and the liquid soap. With a
feral grin, Mark tossed the soap to Tony and left the pile of clothing and
liquid soap on the bank. Mark entered the water and enfolded Tony into a hug.
Mark's hand rested on Tony's butt, and he said in that calm everyday voice.

"I'm gonna take a belt to your butt tonight, boy. You have the laundry duty, and
after we bathe I'll get some fish for supper. Afterward, I think it might be
time for you to be over the saddle, boy, waiting for my belt."

It was the way he said it – just normal, calm. Like: "I am going to take out the
trash and then whup Tony's butt." It sent a chill though Tony's body, and the
heat of his cock made it jerk upright. Mark grinned at Tony and then said.

"Wash my back, babe, and I'll wash yours."

The river had a good swift current here. Tony soaped Mark's broad back, washing
all the places he wanted to kiss and lick and enjoy. After three days of dry
camps, he was going to enjoy licking and kissing Mark's body. The threatened
belting was just an added thrill. Soon both were covered in soap – the dirt of
the last three days was flowing down the current.

Taking the horses down to the river farther down the steam, Tony watered them
and then grinned as his horse, Flame, slowly lowered himself into the shallow
stream. With an almost human groan, he began to roll back and forth; his legs in
the air. Flame was the only horse Tony had ever known that did that in the
water. Mark's horse, Horse, snorted and looked almost offended as Flame made his
wallow, and the pack horse, Pack, nickered and drank deeply.

Tony started to use the curry comb on Horse; he was dusty and he leaned against
the cowboy as the brush groomed him. Flame rolled and then stood up, water
running down his sides, and then he shook. Pack snorted and backed out of the
way. Horse greeted Flame on the bank, with a nuzzle. Each horse had its own
personality. They bonded with each other as well as, with their riders. Each man
learned to understand his mount and to know his personality. Like Flame and the
water, and Horse not wanting to get wet... like that. However at home, he loved
the hose as it ran water down his large body.

Tony led Horse to the new picket line. Mark had set it so the horses had fresh
grass to graze. Then he went back to lead Pack. By that time – he had hoped –
the sun would begin to dry out Flames' coat and it would be a less messy brush
job. As he snapped the clips on the lower line that let the horse graze and
still move freely, he heard a low wolf-whistle. Slowly he stood and stretched
his arms over his head; the light of the sun shining on his body, as he modeled
for his partner. Then with a rolling hip gait he began to strut toward the
campfire – He thought maybe Flame could dry out a bit longer.

Mark squatted by the fire, and reached to pour two more cups of coffee, with
that silly grin he always had. Then Tony heard Flame; he was coming toward him
clearly wanting his brushing. Dirty horse, hot clean cowboy, hmmm... he almost
laughed – no contest.

Then Flame's scream filled the air, and Tony was knocked down and away. He
landed a few feet away, and was stunned at the blow and at the attack. Mark was
on his feet, rushing to the scene, as Flame reared up and slammed his weight
down again and again on the same spot of ground

Mark reached Tony and pulled him to his chest, feeling for broken bones or
broken skin. There were none. Tony was shaken and he winced in pain as Mark
stood him up. Mark supported him as they watched the horse rear and scream. Then
it was over, and the camp was filled with the sounds of the horse panting.

Mark saw it then: a slash of red and gray and brown. It was a rattler. Tony
hadn't seen it but Flame had, and pushed his rider out of the way then took care
of it. The smashed snake was in several pieces

Mark grabbed Flame's halter in one hand, his other around his dazed lover.

"Hush, baby. Hush, I've got you."

Flame nickered and his head pressed into Mark's chest. Tony sat down, still
dazed, as Mark's arm went around the horse's neck; his face pressed against the
muddy skin, and Mark whispered, "Thank You."

*

Tony squatted by the fire and lifted the small pot of boiling water. He added
the potatoes and a small onion, letting them cook. He moved the blue coffee pot
away from the direct heat.

Mark had been firm that he was to rest and to recover after the fall and the
being hit by Flame. So after Mark had checked him and Flame from tip to toe, he
was told to rest until Mark had got the fish for dinner.


*

They lay there after eating, Tony against Mark's body almost inside Mark's jean
jacket. His face against Marks neck, smelling the clean fresh scent of his man.
Mark's hand rubbed against his leg. The trout were gone and dinner was over.
Warm coffee was near each man as they lay in the growing darkness. Tony had not
gotten dressed; he had a blanket over his legs, keeping them covered as the
chill of the evening crept across the camp. Tony's hand ghosted at Mark's fly as
Mark's hand slipped under the blanket and cupped Tony's brief-covered cheek.

"We have an appointment, now, don't we boy?" Mark's hand groped Tony's
brief-covered cock. The touch and hearing the words, were all Tony needed. His
cock slammed up against his stomach.

"Get ready, boy. I'm gonna check the horses."

*

Once again, just calmly – with that sexy undertone. Tony shuddered, as Mark left
the firelight.

Tony looked over his shoulder. He felt a jolt of sexual rush as he saw Mark
standing over him. Mark's hand was holding his wide leather belt. Mark looked so
hot in a white tee and nothing else save his boots – legs planted firmly on the
ground, his belt dangling down his leg.

"Yes, boy. You and this belt have an appointment, don't you? Then we have an
appointment!" Mark growled, as his other hand stroked his cock. "Yeah, lay (?)
that butt up across the saddle. Damn, those white briefs make it stand out. I'm
gonna love warming it up... nice and hot!"

Tony shuddered, and ground his growing cock against the saddle's well-worn
leather. He moaned his assent, flexing his ass. The belt cracked down, leaving a
hot burn across the dead center of his butt. He gasped. Damn, it hurt but it
felt so good.

Mark dropped to his knees, straddling his lover's body; positioned so that his
upper arm could still swing that leather. It landed hard and loud in the night.

Tony was gasping as the belt hit; hot against his ass. He humped his ass up as
it landed; the crack louder as he leaned into the lick. He loved the power Mark
was showing. He loved the burn of the leather and the hot sting of it as it
landed across his ass. The briefs were not any protection but more of an accent,
making him feel like a bad boy. They played like this often – at home over the
bed, or in the barn over the sawhorse or across the bales of hay. Mark knew how
to use the well-worn belt and Tony loved the feeling.

Mark's hand pulled down the briefs, trapping Tony's legs, exposing his now hot
red ass. Mark's hand spanked his butt.

"Yeah, I am gonna ride me a cowboy," he growled as he spread the burning cheeks
apart. His lube-coated finger covering his man's hole.

As hard as the spanking had been – as hard as the belt had landed – that burn
was quickly melting into Tony's front, as he felt the cool finger slide up his
hot sweaty ass. God, he loved this man. Mark's hand spanked down again. The hard
hand's sting so different from the leather – more personal, more intimate.
Mark's hand spanking Tony's bare butt was so real and so damn hot.

Then Mark moved in front of his man; his hard cock jutting out proud. Tony
opened his mouth and his tongue lapped at the stretching foreskin, tasting the
slight saltiness. He took the hard cock down his throat.

Another lick landed and Tony's hand ached to stroke his own tackle. Tony got to
work. He loved sucking this cock – the feel of it, the girth and the swell of
it. He loved this position; his butt exposed to Mark's hard hand and Mark's cock
in his mouth. He felt Mark's breath blow air on his burning butt.

*

Later, Mark's body covered Tony. His heat and lust wrapped around Tony like the
belt had wrapped across his bare ass. He could smell the sweat of them both, the
warm leather of the saddle, the smoke of the camp fire, and the warmth of Mark's
breath as he kissed Tony's neck.

The fire was dying now – night was fully set and there was just the dim glow as
they lay against each other in the double sleeping bag. Mark cuddling Tony, as
the heat from Tony's ass warmed his groin inside the covering. Tony was, as
usual, almost boneless after a hot session.

Mark's hand was rubbing and stroking his man. Tony was all but purring, when
they both heard the sound of a pair of jeans fall off a branch.

"Babe, you know those pants are going to be too cold to put on in the morning.
You ass is nice and hot, but I don't think it'll be enough to warm them up."
Mark muttered into Tony's neck

"The sun will warm them up, and if you think this cowboy is going riding on this
butt in the morning you have another think coming! We ain't going anywhere."
Tony retorted, grinding his butt against his partner's midsection.

"So, you mean we're stayin' for a time?" Mark asked with a ghost of a chuckle.
"In that case..." Mark's body began to move again; against the still heated butt
of his lover.

End.