Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 19:40:47 -0600
From: Colton <coltonaalto@gmail.com>
Subject: BBC on Campus - Chapter Fourteen

My usual disclaimers:

* My experiences are in everything I write, sometimes an image that I
recall, sometimes much more.  This story, however, is fiction.  Any
resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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consent of the author.

* This story depicts unprotected sex. In real-life, be safe!

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BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – SCOT SLUT SUB SURFACES

The cowboy staring at me in Marco's was barely old enough to drink.  If he
was that old.  Marco's had a relaxed policy on checking IDs for their
regulars.  On the table in front of the cowboy was the same Scottish ale
micro-brew I drank.  We were probably the only people in the bar ordering
it.  Marco's was a Pabst Blue Ribbon kind of place, Coors Light for a
special occasion.

Either the kid was curious about the anomaly of a 6'5" black man with long
dreadlocks, broad shoulders and a narrow waist showing up in a cowboy bar
in rural Montana, or he was intrigued by me because of the black python
stuffed in my pants, and willing to risk cruising me in a straight bar to
get it.  Halfway through my conversation with Ben, the guy sat down a
couple of tables away.  He watched Ben and me closely, but I chalked up his
interest to a desire to get a blow job from Ben, Marco's known and
notorious cocksucker.  But after Ben drove his Porsche into the night, the
kid was still staring, so the odds were good that I was the object of the
kid's desire.

The guy had longish brown hair that curled over his ears and fell over his
forehead, almost to his eyes.  He had the long nose and straight jawline
that were two of my weaknesses.  His creamy skin didn't look like it seen
much sun.  He was damn pale for a cowboy.

If he was a cowboy.  As I looked closer, I ruled out the possibility.  Only
his cowboy hat and jeans were right.  Instead of cowboy boots he was
wearing hikers, and rather than a flannel shirt he sported a hoody T-shirt
with a wide neck that showed plenty of shoulders and a smooth chest.

"What are you staring at?" I asked, a touch of belligerence in my voice.

"You," the kid said matter-of-factly, an eager smile crossing his lips.  I
had been prepared to respond with a quick, "Fuck off," but I paused.  The
guy's honesty was disarming.  Most men would have been embarrassed to be
caught staring and would have claimed they were studying the vintage
railroad poster on the wall behind me or, more likely, denied they were
looking at all.

The guy's accent also grabbed my attention, sending me in a direction I
hadn't planned.  Rather than `fuck off,' I instead asked, "Where are you
from?"  On the American-Canadian-British-Aussie-Cockney accent scale, the
kid's accent was past British and even Aussie.  At Harvard, I had fucked
three-quarters of a foursome from Sydney, so I knew it wasn't a down under
accent, but I couldn't place it.

"Edinburgh," the guy said, adding, "Scotland."  I wondered how a kid from
Edinburgh had stumbled into Montana in December.  Maybe for the sun.  As
far north as Montana was, it still got an hour and a half more daylight in
December than Scotland.

The kid looked like a college student, and that might explain his presence.
Westcliffe had an exchange program with some universities in the U.K. and
Europe, and students would swap places for a semester.  But even if the
Scot boy was at Westcliffe, that still wouldn't account for his presence in
Marco's.  The bar wasn't a college hangout and was filled with cowboys as
usual.  We were likely the only guys in the bar that didn't ride a horse
day in and day out.

It was late enough that the Scot twink and I were the only people in the
small alcove of a dozen tables that passed for Marco's dining room.
Country Western music blared in the bar area, but in the dining room you
could still have a conversation without shouting.  "How'd you get here?" I
asked.

The kid blushed slightly and shrugged.  "I'm at Westcliffe for semester,
but I'm staying at a ranch up the road.  A couple of the ranch hands said
there was a guy here who was a great cocksucker.  I'm usually into other
things than getting me cock sucked, but I figured, `why not?' and came with
them."  The guy paused slightly when he mentioned `other things' and gave
me a slight smile.  A straight man would have thought nothing of it, indeed
interpreting the phrase to mean the Scot was interested in fucking pussy
rather than getting a blow job from a guy.  I knew better.

While I was horned up, the long night of hearing Ben's story left me tired
and not in the mood for sex.  Nevertheless, the guy was cute and his accent
was cool.  He was built like a swimmer.  Being Scottish, maybe he played
soccer.  If the circumstances had been different, I would have taken him to
the john and fucked his brains out.  But I was getting plenty of twink ass,
and the circumstances were what they were, so I just nodded, not acting on
the guy's hints.  I let the conversation lapse into silence, taking a drink
of my beer.

"You're a tall drink of chocolate milk," the kid said, breaking the quiet.
I almost burst out laughing at the comment, but the guy's Scottish accent
made me uncertain I heard him right.  "I saw you talking to the
cocksucker," he pressed.  "But you didn't use his mouth.  Blow jobs not to
your liking?  Maybe looking for something else?"

"I'm not looking for anything," I replied, draining my beer and getting up
to leave.

Disappointment flickered on the kid's smooth face.  I thought about the
reality that, with final exams, Travis was in a rare weed-free spell and
Jesse was preoccupied studying.  I was not likely to get much rock climber
ass over the next ten days, and I had missed the opportunity to dump a load
into Ben's mouth or fuck his ass.  Maybe a nice, unexpected piece of twink
ass would come in handy after all.  But not tonight.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Jim," the kid replied, his disappointment dissolving into hope.

"Let me guess," I said, crossing to the kid's table.  I put both hands on
the table, leaning down and staring at him, taking full advantage of my
height.  "You're into different things than getting your cock sucked.  Like
getting your ass fucked.  You bottom, and you're not finding much cock in
Montana to fill your pussy.  Your ranch hand buddies not into getting off
in your tight hole?"

The kid blushed, but I could tell I had read him exactly right.  I didn't
doubt that he would have loved getting his butt fucked in the ranch barn by
an entire parade of cowboys.  He just hadn't gone as far as offering his
ass up in the right way.  I had an image of the kid bent over a bale of
hay, bottoming for a big, wiry cowboy wearing boots and a six-gallon hat,
while an array of cowpokes stood in a circle, stroking their cocks and
waiting for their turn at the kid's fuck chute.

"And," I continued, "You're thinking that a guy talking all night to
Marco's resident cocksucker might be open to pounding your ass, and that
getting butt fucked by a big black cock would be the perfect highlight of
your stay in America?"

"Precisely," the kid said earnestly, nodding.  I stifled a smile.  I liked
the guy's honestly.  Liked it a lot.  Life's too short to lie to yourself.
The guy's accent was interesting, too, and he had good taste in beer.

On the spur of the moment, I came up with a wild amalgamation of the kid's
fantasies as a challenge for him.  "Be careful what you wish for, boy," I
said.  "I'll give you what you want.  Exactly what you want.  Not tonight.
A week from now.  But I like wet, juicy boi pussies that already have been
used and opened up wide enough to take my big black cock.  So in a week,
get one of your student friends or one of your ranch buddies to fuck your
ass.  Then plug your hole with a big, fat butt plug to keep the cum inside
and your hole stretched wide.  You're not allowed to cum yourself while
you're getting fucked or at any time over the next week.  Text me when
you're ready.  Be prepared for a long, long night of rough fucking.
Understand?"

The kid's eyes got bigger and bigger as I spoke.  But when I finished, he
never hesitated, saying, "Yes, sir!"  My Scot boi was submissive, I
thought.  And ready.  Thinking about sending Ben off to be trained as a sub
had gotten me thinking about how much I missed having a good sub.  Jesse
was a close substitute, but he wasn't a natural.  I nodded, turned around
and left the bar, not looking back.

I assumed I would never hear from Jim again.  What I had ordered the young
Scot to do was outlandish.  He could easily have pulled off my instructions
in Chicago or New York, but in rural Montana?  Hell, he wasn't likely to
have carted a butt plug from Scotland, which meant he might have to drive
all the way across the state to find one.  And while I suspected more gay
sex occurred in ranch land than most people thought, it would be hard to
arrange on the spur of the moment.  But even if the kid could pull it off,
would he back out when push came to shove?

Having discounted the possibility that I would hear from Jim and forgotten
about telling him to text me, I was surprised to get a text exactly a week
after seeing him in Marco's.  "Ready, sir!" he wrote.  "I want to please
you.  I am so excited."  Never underestimate what a good sub can accomplish
when he's ordered to do something, with sex as a reward.

I debated where to meet Jim.  I was in the mood for a change of scenery
from my room above the old gas station housing the six rock climbers, each
studying intently for exams.  Fucking Jim in the rest room at Marco's might
be interesting, but it was a long drive, and I had spent enough time
listening to Country Western music there last week that I didn't relish
another visit anytime soon.  Fucking Trent and Kent in my office had been
hot, but with exam week having descended, some of the faculty members might
be in the office building.  And while outdoor sex was always exciting, it
was out of the question on a December night in Montana.

Recalling how Stewart had looked, bound in duct tape with `cum dump'
written on his ass and dumped in front of my gym locker, I settled on the
gym.  Unlikely many people would be around during exam week, and if some
guys were trying to relieve exam stress by working out, isolated corners of
the gym existed.  I texted Jim instructions to meet me at 9:00 p.m.

Jim was outside the front door of the gym when I arrived a few minutes
after 9:00.  His blue eyes sparkled with excitement.  At Marco's he had
been sitting, but standing at the front door I could size him up better.
He was average height – about 5'9" – and on the slender side, maybe
130 pounds.  He wore a thick tartan jacket.  Very Scottish.

I wanted to confirm he followed my instructions.  "Butt plug?" I asked.

"Yes, sir!" Jim replied.

"Show me," I demanded.

"Here?" Jim asked.  The entrance to the gym was quiet but the place wasn't
empty.  At any time someone could come through the doors.  I clenched my
jaws and folded my hands across my chest, letting Jim know I wasn't pleased
to have my instructions questioned.  His eyes darted to each side before he
turned around, quickly pulling his jeans and underwear down.

A fucking awesome ass stared at me.  Jim's smooth ass cheeks were split by
a giant black disk.  Damn, I thought.  If Jim's butt plug was anywhere near
the size of the base, the thing was massive.  My cock stirred a bit at the
thought of ramming a wide open pussy, basted in cum.

I reached forward and ran a finger down his ass crack, slipping it under
the disk of the butt plug.  It was wet and lubed, suggesting Jim had indeed
taken load up his ass earlier in the night.  My hand circled below his ass,
reaching between his legs and cupping his smooth, hairless balls, making
the young Scot gasp in anticipation.  I gave them a tight squeeze, just
hard enough to verge on being uncomfortable.  I felt the rigid base of the
boy's cock, his pole shoved into his stomach.  My big ass pounder began to
stiffen in anticipation of using the amazing pale white ass crack in front
of me.

"Okay," I said, giving Jim permission to pull his underwear and jeans up.
He quickly dressed, turning around.  His curly brown hair was disheveled,
and his pale face was flushed, either from embarrassment, excitement or
exertion.  Fuck, the kid was cute.  He would be even cuter with his lips
circling my dick.

"You wank yourself or cum for the last week?" I asked.

Jim shook his head.  "Couple of times I almost had a wet dream, but I woke
up in time," he said.  "It was difficult, thinking about tonight."

"Carrying a cum load in your ass?" I asked.

"Nine, sir," Jim announced.

"What?" I asked sharply.  With Jim's accent, at first I thought he said,
`none.'

"Nine, sir," Jim repeated.  What the fuck?  Nine loads?  Seeing my
questioning look, Jim launched into an explanation.  "Dallas, the ranch
hand I went to Marco's with last week, had been getting serviced regularly
by the bloke you talked to at Marco's – the loo cocksucker.  But the
bloke hasn't been in Marco's for a week and Dallas told me this morning he
was horny as hell.  I told Dallas I had a tight hole he could use to get
off, but it wasn't my mouth.  He got really mad and slammed me into the
wall and was ready to punch me in the face before he took off.  I assumed
my only option then was to come to Westcliffe, because I heard there was a
loo in the basement of engineering that was cruisy.

"But Dallas thought about it all day and changed his mind.  When he got
back to the bunkhouse he pushed me into the bunkhouse shower and told me to
bend over and shut my mouth.  My arse was tight because it hasn't been
getting used, but Dallas liked it.  Said my bumhole was better than the
mouth of the cocksucker in Marco's.  He didn't take too long – the first
time – but before he finished the rest of the blokes who live in the
bunkhouse showed up.

"I heard them talking in the hallway, but when they saw Dallas ramming his
cock up my arse, the conversation died.  Dallas didn't give a shit that
they were watching.  He was getting close and wanted to climax.  He snarled
and said, `I'm gonna cum in your fucking ass, bitch.'  He rammed into me
really hard and made me hit my head on the shower wall, but I could feel
his cum dumping into my hole.

"One of the other blokes said, `I could use me a piece of that, too,' and
pulled his cock out and started stroking it.  Once that happened, the rest
of the ranch hands did the same thing.  Six guys used me, but Dallas and
two of the others did me twice.  So nine loads.  I got the butt plug in as
soon as I could, sir.  I bought it in Missoula the day after we talked at
Marco's."

It occurred to me that those cowboys owed me a big tip, or maybe a finder's
fee.

This was turning out much better than I had envisioned.  Not only was Jim's
ass hot, it held nine loads from six sex-starved cowboys, along with a
giant butt plug that ensured I could power fuck the Scot slut without
having to work to get my big black monster inside the boy's fuck chute.  My
dick, already aroused by Jim's ass crack, began to press against my jeans,
restlessly announcing its presence.

I motioned to Jim to follow me.  We walked through the locker rooms, but
several guys were changing.  I heard clangs from the weight room and knew
it was occupied so I didn't bother to check it out.  Same problem with the
treadmills and exercise bikes, as the whine of the machines could be heard
from outside the room.  There was always the sauna or the steam room, but
given how long I planned to plow Jim's bubble butt, added heat was a
nonstarter.  I remembered how stiflingly hot it had been in the gas station
the first time I had fucked Jesse's ass.  Not pleasant.

A couple of the handball courts were occupied, too, and with their glass
rear walls they didn't offer a viable alternative.  A game of five-on-five
was underway on the basketball court.  The space under the bleachers might
work in a pinch, though.  Finally, I tried the pool.  It was deserted, and
more importantly, held a sign saying it closed at 9:30, in less than a half
hour.  Perfect.  We stepped in inside, and using my gym key I locked the
door behind us and doused the bright overhead lights.  The gym staff would
think someone else had already closed the pool.  I would have as long as I
wanted to use the Scot boy's ass.

I pulled Jim toward me, almost picking him off the floor as I grabbed his
ass with both hands and plunged my tongue into his mouth.  Through the rear
of his jeans, I could feel the disk of the butt plug buried in his hole.
Jim put his arms around my shoulders, pulling himself up.  "You're never
going to see a swimming pool without remembering getting bred by my big
black cock and getting your ass seeded," I said.  "You're gonna feel my
dick in your pussy every time you smell chlorine!"

"God, yes, that's what I want," Jim mumbled.  There was his refreshing
honesty again.  The kid liked sex and wasn't afraid to admit it.

"Get those clothes off," I ordered.  Jim stripped in record time.  With
only the pool lights and dim security lights, his pale skin glowed in the
dark and almost made him look like a ghost.  A ghost with a surprisingly
large, rock-hard cock pointing to the ceiling.  Jim had to be at least
seven inches.  The shaft was slim like Jim's body, but the cut head of his
cock was like a mushroom.  Juxtaposed next to Jim's slender body, his cock
was eye catching.

I was ready to explore my first piece of Scottish ass and pulled my clothes
off too.  Jim gasped as he saw my thick black pole and balls.  His eyes
were riveted on my junk, but he was about to get a close up view.  I
grabbed a handful of his hair and shoved his face into my crotch.  I was
ready for a hot, wet mouth to service me and get my cock ready for the main
act.

The boy didn't have to be told what to do.  He licked and sucked my rod,
rolled both balls into his mouth, and stuck his tongue deep into my hole,
rimming me.  Unlike most guys who suck, Jim knew how to work the sensitive
region between my hole and my balls, using both hands along with his mouth.
He struggled to get my cock down his throat, but managed to swallow most of
it.  I was tempted to let him eat my first load, but his butt-plugged ass
was too tempting.

I pushed Jim onto a low diving board, on his stomach, and began to work the
butt plug out of his hole.  I had to move it side-to-side and jiggle it
back and forth, but soon Jim's gaping hole was exposed.  A trickle of cum
ran from his ass.  Well, more than a trickle.  The chlorine smell of the
pool was suddenly mixed with the heady aroma of cowboy cum.

The kid had an awesome looking hole.  His entire body was smooth, including
his butt.  His asshole was framed by pale pink skin that darkened slightly
as it puckered toward his fuck chute.  Stretched by the giant butt plug,
Jim's hole was gaping.  It looked like the mouth of a cave, dark and
inviting.  Like a tunnel begging my cock to fill it.  If ever a hole was
made to be fucked, it was Jim's.

I couldn't resist slipping a finger inside the Scot boy.  His ass was like
velvet and I could feel the hot, wet loads of spunk he had taken earlier.
His prostate was big and soft, and as I fingered it, Jim let out soft gasps
and groans.  I pulled my dripping finger from his pussy and shoved it in
Jim's mouth.  He eagerly lapped up the cowboy cock stew.

Jim's soggy boi cunt, spread wide for my bull cock, sent a spark through my
balls and dick.  It didn't take much to get my cock ready.  Spreading Jim's
legs on either side of the diving board, I pushed forward.  I kept
expecting Jim to flinch as my cock invaded his hole, but the huge butt plug
had opened him up enough that my cock slipped in, with the ideal amount of
resistance and tightness.  Given Jim's slender, lithe body, it didn't seem
possible, but his stretched hole was perfect for my big monster.  At least
perfect after being ripped open by six ranch-hand cocks and kept spread by
a big butt plug.  It was like a fitted glove slipping on a big hand.  Jim
let out excited and happy moans as I filled his boi pussy.

I don't recommend fucking on a diving board.  Every time I thrust my black
rod into Jim's white dick glove, the board bounced slightly, and it was
difficult to get into the right rhythm.  The board had some advantages,
however, because occasionally it would rebound just as I was driving down
into Jim's ass, so the board pushed Jim upward in a way that impaled him on
my cock better than I could have done without its help.

My balls let it be known that they were going to explode whether I was
ready or not.  I plunged my cock into Jim's ass in rapid fire succession
and one of the most intense orgasms I had felt in months ripped through my
balls and cock.  I made one final thrust into Jim's Scot hole and pumped
round after round of cum into him.

Panting, I stayed inside Jim's bung hole for a long time.  I wanted to keep
the boy's pussy in just the form it had been in when I pulled the butt plug
from his ass, so before I let him up, I reinserted the butt plug.  Then I
fed him my cock, making him slurp down the mélange of ball juice that
coated my fuck stick.  Jim's blue eyes gazed up at me, his cock rock hard.

The kid was probably close to blue balls if, as I had ordered, he hadn't
cum for a week.  His cock was leaking pre-cum like a natural spring, clear
liquid oozing from his piss slit constantly.  A long string had reached the
floor.  I thought about telling Jim to whack off, but I like it if guys
have stiff dicks when I use their holes.  Jim was a horny little fucker, so
a good chance existed that he would stiffen up again, but why take the
chance?

I sat down on the diving board and let Jim mouth my dick and deep throat
me.  A couple of times I grabbed his head in both hands and face fucked
him, but the kid knew how to suck, so most of the time I let him work on
his own.  He looked up at me, his blue eyes glistening in the reflection of
the pool lights.  I kept thinking about the butt plug in the kid's ass and
the awesome way his ass felt, clamped around my dick.  I was horned up
enough that in only ten or fifteen minutes I blasted my second load into
Jim's eager mouth.  He swallowed every drop, continuing to nurse me softly.

Jim may have thought I was done after getting a load in each hole.  Fat
chance.  I wanted that butt-plugged hole again.  I stood up, slapping my
hard cock across Jim's pale face three or four times.  The kid's eyes were
just as eager as they had been when I met him outside the gym.  Of course,
he hadn't cum yet, so that might have explained it.

I backed Jim to a high scorer's table and lifted him onto the table.  It
was the perfect height to kiss, and I ravaged him, plunging my tongue into
his mouth and grinding my thick lips against his thin white ones.  My
dreadlocks spilled over Jim's pale shoulders.  Jim's legs were wrapped
around my hips, but I lifted his legs, continuing to kiss him so that he
had to bend forward as I put his ankles on my shoulders.  With a little
tug, I pulled his ass almost off the table.  But, more importantly, I could
grab the butt plug and rip it out of Jim's hot fuck chute with my cock
ready to replug him.

I had to be quick.  Pulling the butt plug out with Jim in this position
risked a flood of cowboy cum leaking from Jim's ass.  That meant my cock
needed to cork Jim's hole almost as soon as the butt plug came out.  Jim
clung to my shoulders, kissing me, as I manipulated the plug with one hand
and my rigid black stud buster with the other.

I wasn't totally successful.  As soon as I wrestled the butt plug from
Jim's ass, the pent up pressure of ten loads forced a loud splat of cum to
hit the floor.  I recovered in time to ram my dick into Jim's fuck chute
before any more cum escaped.  The Scot could lick the mess on the floor up
later.

I moved my arms to Jim's hips and slowly pulled away from the table,
holding him with only my arms and my fuck stick.  Jim's arms were flexed as
he clung to my shoulders, continuing to kiss me.  I controlled Jim's body
with my arms, lifting him slightly as I pulled out of his hole, but then
dropping him back down as I thrust upwards.  It wasn't a position I could
hold all day, but Jim was only 130 pounds, so it was manageable.  I love it
when a guy's own weight skewers his ass on my cock.

Loud smacking sounds were echoing in the pool as I powered into Jim's
dripping boi cunt.  I eventually had to move back to the table to support
Jim's weight, but his ass was in the perfect position and height for me to
plow it.  The pale Scot continued to cling to my shoulders and kiss me as
we fucked.  "Fuck me!" he gasped.  "I've never been fucked like this
before."  I hope not.  A big black cock about to deliver an eleventh load
in a guy's ass doesn't happen every day.

It is harder to climax when standing up, but with Jim's velvet hole
massaging my ramrod as I pumped in and out, my climax built rapidly.
Holding Jim's hips as I thrust upward one last time, my nut exploded into
the fuck boi.

Time had not been kind to the hours-old cum Jim had been incubating in his
pussy, reducing it from a thick stew to a thin gruel.  As I pulled out, I
plugged his hole once again, but not before the inside of my thighs got
covered with cowboy cum.  My cock was wet with it, too.

"Lick up every drop of cum on my cock, my balls, my legs and the floor," I
told Jim.  He never hesitated, bathing me from my cock down with his
tongue, and cleaning the floor until it sparkled.  Watching him work only
got me hard again.  I hadn't planned on dumping a fourth load of cum inside
him, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.  And it would make a
nice, even twelve loads.  I put Jim on his back on the floor and pulled the
big black butt plug out of his pussy one last time.

Jim's chest was graced by a few scattered moles.  One in particular I found
incredibly sexy.  Located close to his left tit, it was like a little moon
orbiting around his nipple.  Jim's cock had been rock hard all night long,
and the kid surely had blue balls after having not cum for a week.  I
pumped Jim's ass for a good twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and was close to
cumming, when I relented, telling Jim to whack himself off.  I wanted to
feel his ass clamp around my cock when he climaxed.

Jim stroked his dick by working on the shaft but stopping just short of
sliding his hand over his cock head.  He must have been crazed out of his
mind, because he fisted himself for less than 60 seconds before he came.
The first spurt shot so far and hard that I was afraid it was going to
shoot his eye out.  The volume of spunk he had to get out of his balls was
so huge that, after the first blast opened the floodgates, his cock
couldn't push it that far.  Big blobs of white cum repeatedly exploded from
his seven-inch shaft as Jim's hand flew up and down on his pole.  His
stomach and chest were gradually flooded with boy juice.

Jim's ass was like a strong fist closing around my cock.  I was ready to
dump my last load, so I slam fucked him for a good two minutes and then
shot yet another load of cum inside the Scot boy.  I hovered over him,
panting, staring into Jim's blue eyes, his curly brown hair making a pillow
on the floor.  I slowly bent forward and kissed him, my balls empty and the
boy's ass ravaged.

* * *

I didn't get another helping of Scottish arse after the night at the pool.
The end of the semester was only three days away, and Jim left for Scotland
the day after exams were completed.  I wondered if Dallas and the cowboys
had helped themselves to Jim's holes again after Jim had broken the ice the
afternoon before I had fucked him at the pool.  Horny cowboys?  Check.
Ready availability of a tight ass?  Check.  Damn, the kid probably had
taken so much cowboy spunk that it was still leaking out of him days after
his return to Edinburgh.

Jim had vowed to take the big butt plug home with him for memory sake, and
I smiled at the thought of a baggage handler staring at a scan of Jim's
luggage.  I had no doubt the kid would get use out of the thing back in
Scotland.


TO BE CONTINUED...

Let me know if you are enjoying the story as it develops.
Coltonaalto@gmail.com

Chapter Fifteen will hopefully be up in another week or two (I hope).  Time
to get back to the last rock climber...

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2015