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forearms were massive and the pecs great slabs of hard curved muscle. Black hair swirled over the chest and down over the ridged belly, thickening as it disappeared under the wide leather belt. And it was what Jose had seen below that belt that had made his guts twist with lust. Bradburn was hung like a donkey and the tight, damp denim left very little to the imagination.
It was sundown before they'd been through and they'd all sluiced off the sweat and dirt at the pump before trooping, bare-chested, into the house. Mamma had laid out dinner on the huge kitchen table, which they attacked with great gusto. Then afterwards, they had sat around the table, relaxed and laughing. It was getting late, when Bradburn had said to Jose's mother, "Will you please excuse me, Senora? I need to go out for a smoke."
"You are my guest Senor, please feel free to smoke here."
"That is kind, but I need a breath of air, Senora."
Jose's mother had smiled and nodded her head and Bradburn had gone outside. Jose had been so horny his balls were aching but he'd waited a while before excusing himself and going looking for the Marshal. He'd found him, with his elbows leaning on the newly repaired fence, gazing out at the moonlit prairie. Putting his arm around Bradburn's huge shoulders, he'd felt the hard muscles stir as the Marshal turned his head to look at him. Jose had gazed at the rugged bearded face for a long moment before he'd closed his mouth over the half-parted lips. For several minutes, Bradburn had returned the passionate kiss, then he'd gently pushed Jose away. "No, not now...its not right....I,"
the Marshal had said, his voice, deep and husky. Appalled by what he'd done, Jose blurted out,
"Oh My God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Too much wine, I guess, on top of everything else.
But I'm grateful to you, we all are." There had been a tense moment before Bradburn had chuckled
and Jose had felt that tightening under his heart again ."I'll take that as a compliment. Smoke?" They'd smoked their cheroots in companionable silence, before returning slowly to the ranch.
Jose had thought often of Bradburn's words, remembering the feel of his muscles under his arm and the smell of his sweat and maleness. It had to be Corky, he'd reasoned. Two big virile men, shacked-
up in a couple of pokey rooms above the Jailhouse. Jose could'nt have been more wrong!
The thought of Abe, coming through the saloon doors any moment made Corky's cock stir and his irritation with Jose was forgotten. Since he'd first laid eyes on the big bastard some six months he'd wanted him up him. A score of times, he'd caught him naked and had openly eyed up the superb body and awesome cock, making no secret of what he wanted. He'd also taken every opportunity to show Bradburn his own tight rounded butt. Desire still burned in him fiercely but his frustration had gradually turned to festering reesentment. He even caught himself wondering if he even hated Bradburn. "A penny for them Cork," Jose said.
"Oh sure, gimme another shot," Corky replied with a grin. He looked at his handsome friend and felt his spirits lifting. He was about to get the fuck of his life.
The doors of the saloon opened and Bradburn strode in, nodding to guys who greeted him as he made his way to the bar. Corky's guts twisted as he saw the great bulge of cock, still hard from his ride, and turned his head to call the barman. Jose just stared. Bradburn knew what the Spanish guy was looking at and felt a surge of pleasure. Nobody out here in the territory, leastways not during the hot summer, wore any underwear and it was a common enough sight to see a guy hard in his levis and not caring a damn who saw. The good-looking Hispanic must have seen scores of bulging crutches and Bradburn realised that he cared. He flung an arm around the Deputy's shoulders and gave him a rough hug, before turning to Jose. "Your father saw the people he needed to see and had a talk with Captain White, in charge of the cavalry allotted to the territory. Seems there's been quite a few Injun raids lately and he'll be moving his troops up north soon.
"Thanks Abe, I guess I'll be getting along home to the ranch," Jose said, stretching out his hand.
Bradburn grasped it and felt a jolt of excitement. He held it a little longer than necessary , enjoying the feel of the strong fingers gripping his. Jose gave Corky a playful punch in the shoulder. "I'm going down to do some fishing about an hour before sundown, coming along?"
"Yeah sure, the usual place?" Corky replied, his spirits rising even higher. The big waterhole at Red Rock was where they swam, fished and fucked. His cock began to harden.
They watched Jose leave and, as they refilled their glasses, the saloon doors swung open again. Seeing Bradburn's eyes widen, Corky turned to look at the man who had just entered, and now it was his time to stare. He was the biggest man Corky had ever seen. His plaited flaxen hair and thick moustache reminded Corky of the pictures of Viking warriors he'd seen in books as a kid. Corky's mouth went dry when he saw the man's crutch. The man's glans was hidden by his chaps but Corky could see that he could give Bradburn a run for his money.
Viking stood, legs wide braced, his right close to his gun and stared at the two law men. Bradburn looked as mean and as dangerous as ever he thought and turned his attention to the Deputy. Very nice, he thought. very nice indeed as he noted the ginger man's muscular body. The guy's eyes were rivetted to his crutch and Viking smiled to himself. This could be very interesting. Bradburn's deep voice snapped like a whip, "What are you doing in town, Ohlson?"
"Came in to have a few beers. Free world ain't it?"
"Sure for people who behave and keep their fists to themselves."
"An' what if I don't Bradburn? Gonna try 'n give me another hidin?"
"Yeah if I have to."
"I said try, Bradburn. Cos when you do, I'm gonna beat you to pulp."
The Marshal took a step forward, his eyes blazing.
"Easy," Viking said, "I'll decide when. I want all your fuckin' lickspittles to see it."
"Why you arrogant..."
"Okay, Marshal, sir, I'm goin'. The guys who drink down at the bar by the Livery suit me a whole lot better." Viking winked at the still gawping Deputy and turned on his heel.
Viking climbed into the saddle and grinned to himself as he headed back to the bar where he'd left a couple of ranchhands drinking. If the Deputy was Bradburn's buddy that would be real handy. By the way the ginger dude had been looking at his pecker just now, he knew he'd come looking for it. Viking decided he'd come to Tyler again in a couple of days, on his own, and he'd make damn sure
that the Deputy got it.
Chapter 3
It was nearly a week beflore Viking got to Tyler again. The Boss had been fucking around preparing for his annual visit to Denver and had kept him pretty busy. But now the old bastard had gone, leaving Viking in charge of the ranch for two months. In a day or so, he'd send a couple of the men down to Tyler for a wagonload of booze. Then he'd let the guys off the rein for a night. They were as horny as hell and it'd be fun to see which ones got nailed. Anyway, there were a couple of asses that he'd earmarked for his own personal atrtention. Outside the Livery he climbed off his horse, even more fucking hard than usual, and tossed the reins to the bare-chested hostler. He dug his hand into the ass-pocket of his levis for some coins and noticed that the hairy bastard's eyes were glued to his groin. "You're a big guy, reckon you can take that? he said, expecting the man to back off. The hostler's cheeks flushed red but he didn't. Instead he surprised Viking by saying, "Yep, I ain't met a stallion yet that I couldn't accomodate."
"I'll bear that in mind," Viking replied with a grin.
"You do that mister, it'll be real pleasure fitting you in."
Both men roared with laughter. Viking paid the man and still laughing headed for the bar.
"Nope, he's out at the Rugero ranch. The Marshal's been up at the Hispanic place a few times since the Injun raid," the bartender replied to Viking's question. Then added, "But the Deputy's up at the Jailhouse if you want him." You bet your sweet ass I want him, Viking thought, and took a sip of rye.
Then picking his words carefully he asked, "How's he get on with the Marshal? He seems an arrogant son-of-a-bitch to me."
"Oh they're real buddies. Though sometimes Bradburn tries to 'big-brother' Corky. Pisses him to hell."
"Sure it does," Viking replied feeling very pleased with himself. He took another sip, it was just what he wanted to hear.
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