Marathon Cowboys (12 page)

between Terlingua and Lajitas, drew a tiny Virgin of

Guadalupe in the corner, her hands on her blue-robed hips

and a disapproving frown on her face.

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Sarah Black

86

I slipped it between two pieces of watercolor paper with

a note on the front—
Eyes only—
and left it on his desk. Then

I stretched out on my green velvet sofa, watched out the

window as the quiet dawn colored the sky shell pink.

He crawled into my arms an hour later, a sleepy nuzzle

on my neck. “Jesse, I haven’t had a shower. I’ve been out

running.”

“Oh, yummy. You all sweaty, zo-zo?” He nudged my arm

above my head, sniffed at my armpit.

“Ew! You nut, what are you doing?”

“Take your shirt off.” He was tugging at the hem, pulling

it up, and I stripped it off. Now his hand was slipping into

the waistband of my running shorts. “What have you got on

under here, a jock?” He lifted the waistband, peeked inside.

“Oh, fuck me! You
are
wearing a jock. Come on, let’s get

these off.”

I raised my hips, let him tug the running shorts down

my legs. “Jesse, I haven’t had any coffee yet!”

“Your own fault, slipping out of the house when the

moon was full. I kept waiting to hear you howling.” He pulled

the shorts off my feet, stared down at me. “My word. Would

you look at that. Roll over.”

“What?”

“Roll over! Don’t you know what a man’s butt looks like

in a jock?”

“Um, yeah?” I rolled over, and he crawled up on my legs,

filled both hands with my ass, slipped a finger under the

elastic and popped it. “Ow. Jesse, don’t make me kick your

ass.”

He was giggling now, and he reached down, licked my

lower back, slid his mouth down, and took a big sucking bite

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out of my butt. I could feel him back there, a blond vampire

boy. Then I realized what he was doing. “Are you giving me a

hickey? Now I really am gonna kick your ass.” He reached

over the side of the couch, picked up a magic marker, and

wrote something next to the hickey.

“There. All done. Now roll over again.” I rolled over, and

he studied my rising cock, stretching the cotton knit of the

jock. “Well, look who’s awake!” He slid his fingers under the

elastic, slipped the jock down off one leg. “My, what big teeth

you have, Grandmother!”

I caught him around the waist, lifted him, settled him

between my legs. I wrapped him up until he couldn’t move.

“Hello, Red Riding Hood. Are you lost in the woods, little

girl?” He giggled against my neck, curled against me, and I

wrapped my arms around him and gave him a squeeze. He

was slender, so beautiful and elegant. I felt like I could crush

him between my hands.

“I love the cartoon. You are a fucking cartooning genius,

my friend.” He leaned up on his arms. “So, my little zo-zo.

What shall we do?” He reached down, captured my cock in

his hand. “I told you that you could have me.”

“I don’t think so. Not if that would require my moving.

I’m kind of relaxed here. Anyway, I got you trapped now and

I don’t want to let you go.”

He gave a little wiggle, testing the strength of my arms

and legs. “So here we are, nose to nose, mouth to mouth,

cock to cock. What shall we do?”

“I bet I can make you come first.”

He grinned down at me, his eyes dark. “I bet I can make

you come just by kissing you.”

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Sarah Black

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“Not a chance. I’m a rock-hard devil dog, you dig? And

you’re a pretty little flower, a sweet-smelling blossom. And

I’m going to pluck your petals.”

“And eat them.” He giggled again, his eyes dancing.

“Will you get undressed, Jesse? I haven’t seen you.”

I let him get up, and he looked at me, his face so tender

I felt the weight of it crushing something in my chest. He

lifted his shirt over his head, slid out of his jeans, and

tugged his boxers off. He stood next to me, let me look at

him. He was almost delicate, his chest ivory, nipples a

delicate rose pink. He stood there while I looked at him, and

a flush of color, wild rose, spread across his chest and up his

neck. The hair on his belly, in a faint line down into his

groin, was delicate and gold. I reached for him, lifted the

heavy, full cock. It was rose pink, the same color as the flush

on his chest. “What do you want me to do? How do you want

me? Anything, baby.”

He climbed back into my arms, and we both shivered at

the sensation, skin sliding against skin in the cool morning

air, the rough glide of hair, and then our cocks were nestled

together. “Hey, that’s what I’m supposed to say.
Anything,

baby.”

I wrapped my legs around him again, stroked the warm

ivory skin of his back. I looked so dark with him in my arms.

He reached up, put both hands against my face, looked

down into my eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I felt the breath catch in my throat, and I stared up at

him. “Is this part of how you’re going to get me to come first,

just by kissing me?”

He kissed me very delicately, just on the corner of my

mouth. “Well, that’s something you’re going to have to figure

out, now isn’t it?”

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Sarah Black

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I sighed, lay back down. “I thought so.” He giggled

again, kissed the other corner of my mouth, sucked my

bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled on it, just a bit. “
Out

in the West Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Navajo

boy
.”

He had a good singing voice, and he kissed me in

between lines, stared down into my eyes as he swore

undying love, killed a wild cowboy who was vying for my

attention, a cowboy wild as the West Texas wind, and ended

with a bullet in his chest, dying for love, dying in my arms.

He rested his head on my chest, then he reached over

the side of the couch, pulled something from the pocket of

his jeans. In one hand he had a blue condom. In the other, a

small plastic pouch of lubricant. I took the lube, looked at

the label. Tequila flavored. Good God.

I looked at him for a long moment, seeing just a bit of

shy in his eyes, just a bit of a question. Then I unwrapped

my arms and legs, took the condom. This part I knew how to

do. “Get on your knees, cowboy.”

He scrambled up, trembling, and he watched me roll the

condom up my cock. I tore open the plastic on the lube,

squirted it out on my fingers. Then I waited for him. His face

was flushed, that wild rose color in his cheeks, and he was

breathing hard, one hand rubbing his chest. He turned

around, gave me his back, then climbed up on the couch.

I reached for his waist, pulled him to the edge. He

looked back over his shoulder, and my heart did that slow

roll again, turning over in my chest. The need in his face,

wanton and shy at the same time, those wild blue eyes—the

look of him burned through my mind. I slid my fingers

against his anus. I couldn’t look at him again. I seated my

cock, waited for him to lean back against me. He moaned,

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Sarah Black

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rocked a little, and I felt the head slip in. Jesse dropped his

head, and I could see the bones of his back, the delicate

bones of his neck.
You’re mine
, I thought, shoving roughly

inside. This was what he wanted.
Anything you want, Jesse.

I’ll fuck you as hard as you want. Because what you need is

mine to give.

I didn’t say it out loud. We were speaking without

words, our needs travelling along our nerves, along our blood

vessels, our skin damp and hungry. I shoved inside, shoved

again until I was buried in his body up to the balls. I leaned

over, slid my fingers along his spine until I could touch the

damp hot skin at the back of his neck. He turned his head,

slipped one of my fingers in the corner of his mouth, and

dark passion crawled up out of my belly, started to wrap

around my throat, but I stomped it down hard. This was for

Jesse. I rocked him hard until he reached between his legs,

stroked his cock once, twice, then he was coming, a

groaning, thumping lusty cry that went straight to my balls,

nearly tore them loose when I exploded inside of him.

He was shaking so hard I reached out, still deep inside

him, held him against my chest, my mouth making its slow

way along his shoulder. “Shhhh, hush, baby. Everything’s

okay. I’ve got you. You’re right here in my arms, all safe and

warm, and I’ll never let you go, I promise, Jesse. I promise.”

He turned his head, and his mouth found mine. He

didn’t say anything, just looked at me with those blue eyes,

all warm and sleepy, studied me like he’d never seen me

before. His lips curved into a smile. Then he reached over

and kissed me, a sweet little sigh against my mouth, and I

felt myself slip out of him.

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Sarah Black

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JESSE took his clothes and went over to his side of the

studio, and I went into the house and took a shower. When I

was drying off, I caught sight of my ass in the mirror. The

magic marker had faded, but I could still read it:
I belong to

Jesse
, with a little heart drawn around the hickey. I was

grinning when I got dressed and joined The Original out on

the front porch. We leaned back, drinking coffee, and when

Uncle George drove up, climbed out of his pickup truck, and

joined us on the porch, it was just three old devil dogs,

drinking coffee and contemplating the morning. The silence

was a blessing.

Jesse came out of the studio, took some photographs of

us sitting on the porch, then went back into the house. After

a few minutes I heard some banging of pots coming from the

kitchen. I stood up and stretched. “How about chili for

lunch?”

The Original nodded.

“Sounds good,” said Uncle George. It was the first thing

he’d said since he climbed out of his truck.

I went into the kitchen, put my coffee cup in the sink.

Jesse had his head in the freezer. “Get some hamburger out.

I’m gonna make chili.”

He looked at me then, a smile deep in his eyes, mouth

curving sweetly, and I reached for him, pushed him against

the kitchen wall, took a bite out of his mouth. His hands

were gentle on my chest.

Uncle George sighed from the kitchen doorway. “I knew

it was heading in this direction,” he said.

“I’m just trying to ignore it,” The Original said. “You

boys want to make a pan of cornbread to go with that chili?”

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Sarah Black

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After lunch I went out to the studio to work, found a

folder on my desk marked
Eyes Only.
Jesse had drawn the

two of us as Yoda and young Luke Skywalker. In the first

frame, Yoda, with a Navajo face, was sitting, his robes

around him, while young Jesse-Luke, lightsaber hanging

from his belt, said,
But Master Yoda, I’m not afraid!

In the second frame, I’d stood, parted my Yoda robes to

reveal a massive erect green cock. Jesse-Luke cowered back

against R2D2.
You will be!

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Sarah Black

93

Chapter Eight

I WENT to work after lunch, and I could hear Jesse on his

side of the studio, mixing paint, Marty Robbins playing on

the little CD player. I had the first character. I’d remembered

during lunch, a tall skinny kid from Pascagoula, Mississippi,

telling me that B.B. King’s name stood for Blues and

Barbecue. He was constantly getting asked to play

basketball, something he seemed to be used to. He always

accepted with good-natured resignation, but his real love

was the Delta blues. I sketched him out on the whiteboard—

long skinny legs, helmet pushed back on his head, the wires

of his iPod in his ears. He would be listening to old

recordings of Son House, maybe, or Robert Johnson. He was

going to be my radioman.

Jesse stuck his head around the canvas and scarf

barrier. “You have the Internet set up on your computer?”

“Yep.”

“Can you pull up a picture of Freida Kahlo’s
Blue