Date: Sun, 28 Apr 2002 15:58:47 EDT
From: FlagStache@aol.com
Subject: "Cowboy Tail" - Part 7

Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved.

No copies of this document may be made without the expressed permission of
the author. Submit comments to FlagStache@aol.com

Warning: This story contains homo-erotic content! If this is objectionable
to you or the state laws in which you abide, read no further!

{This latest installment as well as any other remain parts, are dedicated
to rimpigfl@yahoo.com, he knows that time places no limitations upon love
and desire between men, be it yesterday, today or the future - whatever it
might bring! Thanks for your friendship Bobby!}


Cowboy Tail (Part VII)


"Oh well now, what have we here?!" The Sheriff's voice boomed out...

Having quickly regained his "physical" composure, Sheriff Samuel F. Tipton
stood perfectly still, braced in a tensed wide-legged stance before the two
naked men huddled on the floor beneath him. One of them being his former
and "long term" friend, Roger Mangum, proprietor of the local Mercantile
and General Store! As Tipton continued to stand, his well aimed "Colt
six-shooter" was held out straight before him, securely confined in the
grips of his steady, unwavering hand. Being a man of the law, his duties
were to uphold and defend the writ of the law and yet Tipton was hesitant
about this particular situation, especially since he and Mangum were old
friends but he was fully prepared to fire his weapon upon the two
'sodomites' if either one of them were to make a sudden or careless move -
he finally decided that he would only wound them if things really got out
of control!

Given the awkward state of things, such as they were for Smokey and Mangum,
the Sheriff's staunch and rigid appearance convincingly hid the torrent of
thoughts and questions that filled his now bewildered brain. What it was
that he was thinking at the moment, was difficult for him to sort out, he
was still so shocked and confused by what he had seen! Yet one thing stood
out amongst all of the rest and that was whether or not anybody really knew
anybody at all and could we really place any stock and trust in what we
believed a person to be? In turn, he also found himself re-assessing his
current relationship with Rog: could it be that their long years of
camaraderie and friendship were now to be null and void? No, Tipton was
confident enough in his feelings about Rog to know that this could simply
not happen, the war with the confederacy alone had bonded them forever and
his respect for the man still remained. Even so, the betrayals of honesty
and truth were issues that had clearly displayed themselves before his very
own eyes! Mangum was a just and hardworking man, married to a beautiful
wife with two strapping young sons to add to his credit and long list of
many other accomplishments! This was how Tipton had always known Rog to be
and in all truth, he often looked upon Mangum as a shining example of how
life should be lived....

"How cud Rog 'ev butrayed ahr frendship lack this..., wah did'nt he evah
confide in meh..., cuhtainly weh cud 'ev come ta some sorta undahstandin
butwain us..., wuz ar frenship fer nuthin!" Tipton reflected, and as he
turned his head to look upon Smokey, he suddenly realized that he was being
carefully sized up and appraised! "Who thuh hail is that rangy lookin
varmint who wuz pogering aweh with Rog..., 'n wah is he starin up at meh
lack ah wuz a platter 'o tasty grub er somethin?" Tipton guardedly thought
and for some strange reason, he discovered that he could not tear his eyes
away from the manly figure of the tall lanky stranger who unashamedly
exhibiting his impressive masculine nakedness to him!

Tipton found himself oddly fascinated by the hardened state of Smokey's
throbbing penis as well as the mere size and girth of it! Although previous
opportunities had made themselves available to him when he as a young lad,
Tipton never 'openly' allowed himself to study the various 'differences'
between members of his own sex. And yet, as the years flew by and age and
maturity had soften him somewhat, he did find himself looking at a nice
healthy bulge or two as they met with his inquisitive glances but only in
order to provide himself with assurances that what he saw throbbing away in
his hand at night, still measured up to the younger studs of the township.
One might say that Tipton was suffering from the effects of a full-blown
case of "mid-life crisis," still, he could not deny having a strong
curiosity over other men, a fact about himself that had only made itself
evident in his latter years, it was purely a matter of masculine pride he
convinced himself. Then again, being lost in the realms of his treasured
private moments and with his inhibitions shucked down as far as his
trousers were, his masturbatory fantasies over women were becoming more
forced and would often fade out to be entirely replaced by disembodied
images of throbbing peckers and other male oriented imaginings, he even
fingered his own bung hole during such times but that was so he could
experience what a women might be feeling as she was getting poked by
him. And such were the various excuses and justifications that Tipton had
made for himself in regards to his private dalliances.

Smokey's hazel eyes took on a sudden golden glow as they locked into
Tipton's steely gray gaze with an overpowering effect! As Tipton continued
to stare within the depths of those golden pools, they drew him in like a
vortex, melting down his cool and calm reserve and with Svengali-like
success! Smokey called it "the gift" and try as he might, he never could
quite figure out where his 'mind controlling' abilities could have come
from, his Pa didn't have them, maybe he got them from his Ma? The subject
of Smokey's maternal parentage, never came up during his upbringing, even
when he would ask, his Pa would either turn a deaf ear to him or simply act
like he didn't know what his son was talking about. Whatever the case might
have been, Smokey was sure about one thing and that was, that his "gift"
had gotten him out of plenty of situations that roused him to actions, his
life's motto being: "screw or die trying!"

In the meantime, Roger Mangum miserably sat, hunched over in a kneeling
position, his tight narrow buttocks resting firmly against the boot
callused flesh of his heels, his head bowed down over splayed naked thighs
that were barely concealed by Smokey's discarded shirt. Mangum held this
particular article of clothing tightly against his greatly diminished
private parts and with as much chastity as he could possibly muster. His
hand had unconsciously balled itself up into a fist at his crotch, the
knuckles of which, were turning white from the exerted pressures. Mangum's
whole body shook as a result of the deep sorrow-filled sobs that had
overtaken him just a few moments before, runny snot bubbled at his nostrils
and the burning hot tears flowed freely from his swollen eyes, streaming
down his deeply etched, darkly stubbled cheeks and as they were ensnared by
the coarse strands of fur that sprouted impressively from his upper lip,
the crystalline droplets traveled their course and fell like rain from the
neatly waxed ends of his black moustache. There were no doubts in his mind,
that all that he had worked so hard for in his life, would be gone. Once
the details of his current indiscretions with 'another man' were brought to
her sensitive ears, his wife Lucinda would have to leave town along with
his two beloved son's John and Paul in tow. Most likely they would travel
back to their hometown of Savannah Georgia and when things had finally
settled down enough, the confused boys would be told that their father had
been murdered and his body unaccounted for. The whole township would
ridicule the name of "Mangum" and with the strict Sodomy laws in place at
the time, the prospects of Roger having to serve at least one full year of
incarceration was immanent! All of these scenes, played themselves out with
tragic consequence, within the tortured mind of Mangum and he continued to
weep bitterly. All the while Smokey could hear the foolish blubbering sobs
of the suffering shopkeeper and for one split second, he found himself
wishing that the cowardly cuss would "shut thuh hail up!" Even so he would
not allow the cumbersome noises to break the unceasing mental
concentrations that he was projecting upon the Sheriff. The eyes of both
men continued to lock.

With carefully measured tones, Smokey's deep drawling voice spoke out
soothingly, "Hey theyah Sheriff, ya don't wanna go shootin nobody nah,
t'ain't no rale reasun ta do so ya know..., no halm done..., jes two full
grown consentin adults havin a bit 'o pleazuh mongst themseff's..., haven't
ya evah dun a little whoop 'n holler with anybudeh befur?" "Listen up! Ah
cun teach ya a thang er two Sheriff..., mostly bout thuh plezuable feelins
that ony men cun give ta each otha..., how bout it Sheriff..., give it all
up fer 'ol Smokey..., ain't nothin fer yuh ta be afeared of..., cumon nuh
let meh take care 'o that hardy gristle that yer throwin inside 'o those
breeches...!"

All of these words seemed to take on an agreeable meaning for Tipton and he
found himself suddenly intrigued by all of the things that Smokey was
talking about, was it really all that bad to be touched by another man and
in ways that only a woman by her nature was compelled to do? What was it
that prevented men from doing the very same things for each other? He had
certainly caught enough criminals in the jailhouse, engaging in the act of
licking and sucking away at their big throbbing peckers before; he usually
had to splash both men down with a bucket of cold water and then detain the
two of them in separate cells! Tipton always thought that such practices
between men, were isolated incidents and only associated with the
degenerate abnormalities of the criminal mind! His buddy Rog was no
criminal though! Be that as it may, what he saw the stranger doing to his
friend was a bit more than what he would be willing to do and yet his buddy
Rog didn't think so?

The Sheriff was abruptly brought back to his senses, only to discover that
the tall naked stranger had worked his way across the floor and was now
kneeling only a few inches in front of him. It was the initial sensation of
pressure at his penis that finally broke the trance and Tipton found
himself watching with curious amazement as the stranger, who called himself
"Smokey," had extended his huge hand and brought it up hard against the
taut muscular firmness of his inner left thigh. The massive hand then
gripped unrelentingly at the swollen oblong growth, which was undeniably
displayed through the straining cotton material of his trousers. Tipton
allowed himself to bask in the rays of lustful abandon as waves of
pleasurable sensations spread throughout his groin. His shooting arm had
relaxed and now hung limply by his side, still, his gun remained and
although he was less likely to use it now, he held onto it with a much
'looser' grip than before! He reveled in the moment while the stranger
intently pawed at and gently tugged upon, every square inch of the
lengthening bulge. Smokey, taking particular note of how nicely the man's
pecker was beginning to fill out the loose leg of his trousers, he
confidently assured himself, that his mission was close to being
accomplished! His next move required a little more finesse as he carefully
slid his arm up under Tipton's vest, feeling through the cloth of his
shirt, the firmly raised ripples of his well developed abdominal muscles,
his hand continued to search as it traveled upward still, eventually it
stopped to rest against Tipton's broad and heaving chest, at long last
finding the object of his quest, that being, a small rubbery nipple nestle
within a forest of hairs that felt like a bearskin pelt had been pasted to
Tipton's chest. Smokey tweaked and pinched the Sheriff's untried sensitive
nub. "Mmmmmmm...," Tipton moaned out and his round narrow butt-cheeks
squirmed and flexed as his hips suddenly shot forward, giving Smokey
greater access to his crotch. With his legs still widely placed, his crotch
arched over the kneeling figure of Smokey Joe who quickly brought his other
hand up to slide along the taut curving length of Tipton's towering right
thigh, feeling the delicious musculature there. "Ahhh..., Nice!"  Smokey
uttered, he was definitely a leg man and he worshiped the manly pillar
before sliding his hand further up to firmly grip at Tipton's flexing right
buttock. The warmth of the Sheriff's flesh could be felt and it was there
that Smokey gently caressed the solid inner slopes that led the way to the
man's deeper anal recesses. The hindrances of clothing, of course,
prevented Smokey from taking 'riskier' liberties with the Sheriff's cute
ass. Irregardless of that fact, his fingers tenderly swept along the
pleated mid-seam in the seat of the groaning man's trousers. It was there
that Smokey could feel the sweet way that the firm globes of flesh pinched
together as the Sheriff pressed his hips forward, thusly ensuring, that the
sausage shaped lump at his thigh, might remain tightly imprisoned within
the skillful gropes and tugs that Smokey was again, tirelessly providing!
There was more than enough time to engage in 'less' subtle ways of
explorations, Smokey thought, but for now, his only intention was to tease
at Tipton's passions, allowing the Sheriff to realize the sensitive
qualities of his body and especially his ass. And so it was that Tipton
stood, completely oblivious to anything else but Smokey's talented hands as
they continued to paw him at his crotch and backside and slowly but surely,
all of the answers to all of the questions that had filled his puzzled mind
earlier, were being masterfully supplied; along with those answers came the
screaming revelation that he suddenly wanted to get naked with Smokey, now
more than ever, he ached with the desire to share his body with another
man!

End Part VII