The Cowboy Poet by Claire Thompson Page B

the wild ride ahead. Answer me, boy, Clint added. I want to hear you.
Yes, Sir, Tyler said, his voice thick with lust. Clint‘s cock surged and he felt the involuntary clutch of Tyler‘s muscles spasming against it. He groaned with pleasure and began to move inside.
When Tyler arched slightly back, Clint reached for his hair, which he used like a rein to jerk Tyler‘s head back. I said, don‘t move, he reminded the boy, who gasped, his lips parting.
His fingers still entwined in Tyler‘s thick, wet hair, Clint moved again, shifting and sliding inside the hot, perfect grip of Tyler‘s body. Tyler groaned, a shudder moving through him. Clint reached for his cock, wrapping his hand around it as he fucked Tyler from behind.
As if he were not only inside Tyler‘s body, but also his very soul, he could feel Tyler‘s act of will, trying desperately to hold still while Clint moved inside him, all the while stroking and teasing Tyler‘s rock-hard shaft. Clint couldn‘t deny the deep, satisfying thrill he got from bending this strong, sexy man to his will. He didn‘t know which was better—the hot, slick clutch of Tyler‘s ass on his cock, or the sweet tremble of Tyler‘s body as he struggled to obey Clint‘s dictate to be still.
Oh, god, Tyler groaned, as Clint stroked his hard cock with a sure hand as he moved inside. I can‘t…Clint, I can‘t stay still. My body needs to…oh… He began to shudder, his back arching, his hips thrusting back to take Clint in deep. Clint jerked Tyler‘s head back by the hair and Tyler twisted toward him, accepting Clint‘s rough, desperate kiss.
Clint felt the rushing rise of his own release as he kissed the boy, all the while pumping Tyler‘s cock in his fist. Tyler was no longer trying to be still, and Clint gave him a silent reprieve. They were both sweating again in the hot, dry air, their bodies slippery as they moved together, panting and grunting.
Clint was poised on the edge of orgasm, savoring the exquisite torture of holding himself back as long as he could. He finally let go when he felt the sudden warm spurt of semen over his fingers as Tyler cried out.
Clint jerked hard, the weight of his orgasm propelling him forward as they fell together to the blanket, Tyler beneath him, Clint‘s cock still buried deep inside. They lay still for a long time, the only movement the combined galloping of their hearts, which finally slowed in tandem to a cantor and then a walk.
After a time, Clint became aware of the jangle of his cell phone from the heap of their clothing nearby, and realized he‘d been drifting in a contented, easy doze.
Tyler stretched languidly beside him. You gonna get that?
While Clint was considering this, the phone stopped ringing. Guess not. He grinned and playfully smacked Tyler‘s bare ass. Pushing himself to his feet, he said, Race you to the creek.
With his limp, he didn‘t have a chance in hell of beating the younger man, but he didn‘t mind. He enjoyed watching Tyler lope toward the water in all his naked glory. He joined Tyler in the water, smiling as he watched Tyler duck down and rise a moment later, shaking his wet hair and laughing. Clint found himself laughing too, just for sheer joy.
Ain‘t it great, Tyler said, echoing his thoughts, to be alive?

Chapter 6
    It‘s like I told you the other night, Hoss Johnson said. Couple of our tanks disappeared. One of them didn‘t even have nothin‘ in it. But even empty, they don‘t come cheap, you know.
    Was Doc Crawford here sometime around when you noticed them going missing? Tyler tried to keep his voice neutral, feeling almost like he imagined a trial attorney might, who didn‘t want to lead the witness.
    Hoss glanced at Tyler, but focused on Clint to answer, which mildly annoyed Tyler, but he let it pass. Hoss Johnson had no doubt labeled him a city boy not worth his time or attention. Tyler shrugged inwardly at this. He was on a story, and if this country boy preferred to deal with one of his