A straight cock-tease is man-handled by his boss and co-worker in this throwback story by Terry Victor with art by Cavelo.
Corralled
by Terry Victor
Art by Cavelo
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Every September The Cowboy Store where I work has a special show or display of the latest goods and equipment for cowboys and ranchers. In my part of the country, cowboys are the major part of the population, and The Cowboy Store is the place where they flock to get what they need. They come from hundreds of miles around for our special displays, in addition to those who come regularly (sometimes from hundreds of miles) just to check our stock. The main reason they come to our small town is the quality and variety of our merchandise, but an added incentive is Matt's House, where the men are hot and the action is hotter. The Cowboy Store operates and owns Matt's house, and we make sure the merchandise there is always top quality, as it is in The Cowboy Store.
Anyway, every year we have this special display on the top two floors (ninth and tenth) and the roof of our building (our usual selling area is the first three floors). Our building is the tallest in town; the next tallest is only five stories high, and that is about eight blocks away. We put clothing and horse equipment (Levi's, saddles, and so on) and tools (like post-holers, wire cutters, and rope) on the ninth and tenth floors. On the roof which has been specially reinforced and adapted, we have a garden or, rather, a prairie, complete with earth and grasses and three trees. Here we display the tents, sleeping bags and camping equipment a cowboy can use, and we even have a corral up there; at one time we thought we could have horse displays in it, but it didn't prove practical. Still, we didn't take the corral down.
This year, the show was set for a Monday opening. On Saturday my boss Zeb asked me to come in overtime Sunday morning to take care of some last minute details, just a few hours of which amounted to busy-work. I agreed. I like Zeb; he's a good, fair man to work for. And humpy in a tall dark way. About forty. Married, he has four children. Zeb rather soured things though when he said he'd also asked Ted Smith to come in, too. I didn't dislike Ted, but I didn't like him, either. About twenty- five, blond, good looking, trim body, he'd worked at the store for only about three months, and I thought he was a prancing cocktease. Always offering and never delivering, flexing muscles, posing, talking, always rebuffing overtures. Usually I ignored him. But even though I'd preferred working with someone else, I said okay to Zeb.
Zeb gave me and Ted each a key to the back door of the store. Next morning, early, I was there, taking care of my stuff on the ninth floor, working hard so I could get done and out into the sun. I live a couple of miles out of town on a small spread that has a pool and l spend Sundays there, naked under the sun (so I'm tanned all over), sometimes alone, sometimes with company. I have many friends and they help to take care of my cock needs, sol rarely visit Matt's House to get my ashes hauled.
About ten o'clock I was finished with my job and debating whether I should leave or should check to see if Ted had showed up and/or needed any help. Ted solved that problem. He came to me just then and asked for help on the roof.
It seems that he accidentally knocked down one of the logs of the corral railing and couldn't get it back up alone. Would I help?
Surely would.
Well, it turned out that he needed my help with more than the corral; somebody on Saturday had not done what he was supposed to do, and Ted was stuck with that as well as his own work. cocktease or not, Ted was a hard worker. What the hell, I thought and stayed to help him.
It was a sunny day, warm, and all Ted's work was on the roof. Working at the store, I was going to miss a lot of pool-and-suntime, and since it was just Ted and me working there eleven stories up, I decided to strip and work naked. Ted was fully dressed, his tight shirt strained with sweat patches. His compact body was packed into his clothes, which stretched over his sleek muscles, straining at the seams. His faded Levi's appeared to be painted on around his torso, his ass cheeks firm and solid and his crotch fully packed. He had a slender swimmer's build, and his blond hair tumbled about his face.
"Ain't goin' t' give up the Sunday sun," I said, unbuttoning my shirt and hanging it over the top rail on one side of the corral. "You look like you c'd use some sun yourself."
Ted stared, then pulled off his shirt and hung it next to mine. He was lightly tanned. Broad shoulders, narrow waist His pecs were curved and solid, arched high on his hairless chest His nipples were the size of my little finger, surrounded by a narrow band of aureole. My own nipples were the same size, by the aureoles were a lot wider. He didn't take oft anything else, just twitched that tight little butt around.
Well, I stripped off the rest, retaining only my black cowboy boots for mucking about in the dirt and grasses on the roof and my black cowboy hat. Naturally, Ted checked me out, darting glances when he thought I wasn't looking. Hell, all guys do that to each other. I was about an inch taller than Ted, and some pounds heavier, with a wrestler's build. We were about evenly matched, though I was more muscular from my days as a logger in Oregon. I had dark brown hair mat I kept about three inches long, and my chest was covered with a silky brown mat My groin was covered thickly with dark curly hair. I was thirty.
Like I said, Ted kept checking me out, darting glances at me, peeking at my cock, long and thick and free-swinging between my legs, uncut, and at my heavy balls, swinging freely in their thin skinned hairy sac. Hell, I've got a good body and I ain't ashamed to let anyone see it. So I gave the cockteaser lots of chances to look, though I didn't flaunt myself in his face. No sense in giving him an inferiority complex. Guess maybe with him I did a little cockteasing myself.
We worked hard, my cock swinging with every motion, and while Ted kept glancing at me, I mostly ignored him. Or tried to. This was hard. Damn, but I wanted to sink my dick into that hot mouth, or that tight asshole. He was an attractive sexy son-of-a-bitch.
Like many cockteasers, in addition to being provocative with his body, he was provocative with his mouth. Lots of innuendoes, sly remarks, sexual taunts, double entendre. I smiled and worked and made noncommittal replies. Not everything he said was like that; they were the leavening between statements about the work we were doing, and how grateful he was that I stayed to help him. And he was grateful.
Well, his smart-ass talk, and his neat body, and the warm sun, and the fact that I hadn't fucked anybody for two days, all combined and made me horny, and my cock drew blood and thickened. I got a fucking hard-on. Ted couldn't help but see my erection. I like goin' with a hard-on; it's a comfortable exciting sensation, feeling that extra weight concentrated between my legs, feeling the long jutting protrusion from side to side as I move. Like I said, it was a warm day, and the sweat generated by the heat and by the work coated my body and ran down my tanned skin and dripped oft my deep-hanging balls. The sweat on Ted vanished under his Levi's and stained the denim.
More smart-ass talk from Ted about my erection.
Under Ted's crotch I could see the tube of his dick inching its way down his thigh. Something was turning him on. Maybe me.
"Bet you have t' beat off a lot," he said when we were just about finished. The sun was high in the sky then; I figured it was somewhat about one.
I just looked at him, my fists on my hips.
"You got a mighty big dong. Horse cock. Shit, I seen horses with less meat than you. Can't think'uv anyone 'round here who c'd take a horse cock that size, 'cept a horse. You fuck horses, Marty?"
That did it The time had come for action.
I put down my hammer, my big heavy hard-on jutting straight out
"Put up or shut up, cocktease." His jaw dropped. "I'm goddamn sick and tired of yer yappin', and I'm sick and tired of yer cockteasin', promisin' and not deliverin', pretendin' t' be so goddamn straight arrow when yer nothin' but a goddam queer like me, yer nothin' but a-"
"I ain't!" he shouted and swung at me.
Well, I never refused a fight before, and I didn't refuse Ted then. I swung back and connected. He staggered, then moved in again. He connected but not hard, and I returned the blow. We were working inside the corral at that time, and there was only so much room to move around in. I had five years of experience on him and outweighed him and had learned to fight on the streets of New York. But he was a fighter and got in some good licks, knocking my cowboy hat oft, before I tackled him and got him down. I landed on top of him, forcing his face into the dirt of the corral, knocking the breath partly out of him. He struggled mightily, but I had the advantage. "You want cock, boy, yer goin' f get cock. Don't tell me you don't want it, the way you been eyeballin' my cock all day!" I spoke in choppy phrases, keeping a grip on my struggling prisoner while I was unfastening his belt and shoving his briefs and Levi's down his legs till they caught on his boots, hobbling his legs. He was moving like a bucking bronco, protesting mightily, "No, no, goddammit; no, Marty, please," and shouting for help, gulping for breath. No one heard, we were eleven stories high.
I had the advantage, like I said, and it wasn't long before I was in the saddle, my cock up his ass, going in and out like a slow deliberate long-dicking piston. He was bucking away and my cock must have hurt him. But beyond one yell at my initial penetration he didn't make any additional noise more than he had been making. I got tired of hearing him, though, so I ripped his jockey shorts right oft his body and forced them into his mouth. I lay on top of him, my hands grasping his outstretched wrists, my booted feet dug into the dirt outside his legs which were shackled by his Levi's around his boots, my cock a thick tube joining us, easing in and out his hot tight slick chute. We were in the center of the corral, and I felt like a cowboy who'd corralled a handsome stallion and was riding him, breaking him in.
"What 'r' you doin'?" said an unexpected voice.
I looked up. Shit! It was Zeb all dressed up in his Sunday go-to-church Levi's and black-and-white checked cowboy shirt. I didn't know what Zeb'd think or do, but I answered anyway. My mom always taught me a question deserves an answer.
"Fuckin"' I grunted.
"Yep, I kin see that. But yer fuckin' on my overtime. I ain't payin' you t' fuck around."
"We warn't goin' t' charge you. This cocktease fin'ly went too far and teased one too many cocks, Zeb, 'n' I'm givin' 'im the cock he wants and needs." I slammed into the asshole under me. Ted wiggled and made protesting noises, twisting his gagged head to look imploringly at Zeb who had his arms resting on the top railing of the corral, one booted foot on the lowest rail. Zeb knew I liked men, but he'd never seen me in action before. I didn't know what he figured to do. "This fucker's been askin' for cock ever since he began workin' here in the store, been teasin' ever' man in sight, pretendin' t' like cunt 'N' I'm jist obligin' the teasin' fucker!" I kept on riding my bucking stallion while I talked.
"Truly? No shit?" "No shit. Truly."
Ted gurgled around his piss- stained gag.
"WaaI," said Zeb, climbing over the railing into the corral, "they ain't but one thin' t' do t' a cocktease. Only one thin' t' do t' a cocktease," and he knelt down at Ted's head between Ted's outstretched arms. Zeb opened his fly and hauled out his dick, stiff and hard and erect, kinda short and stubby but thick, heavily veined. He pulled Ted's head up by the hair and bent it back so Ted was staring him right in the face. "Lissen t' me, boy, 'n' lissen well. I don't like cockteasers, 'n' I'm goin' t' help Marty here give you what you wan', what ever' cockteaser wan's if he'll admit it or not. I'm goin' t' take that gag out'uv yer mouth in' I'm goin' t' stick my cock in yer mouth 'n' yer goin' t' take it 'n' yer goin' t' suck it 'n' yer goin' t' swaller ever' drop'uv my cum, 'n' if I feel teeth on my cock," and Zeb made a big fist, "you shortly ain't goin' t' have any teeth left."
He yanked out the spitty gag and Ted gasped and Zeb stuffed in his cock, and we double-ended Ted, me in his ass, Zeb in his mouth.
Zeb sighed deliciously. "Feel any teeth?"
"Nope. This sucker's a fast learner."
In a while, we came at the same time and pulled out at the same time and fell back. My cock felt like a red-hot poker. We were both still hard as rocks, cocks sticking straight up.
"Ain't no cocktease ever satisfied with but one fuck," I said, picking up my black felt cowboy hat and putting it back on.
"Right," agreed Zeb.
"Nnooo," moaned Ted as he got to his hands and knees to crawl toward the fence. "No, please... ...... I cain't...
Hold still," I said, "You ain't goin' nowhere." I grabbed Ted's ankle and took a piece of rope lying nearby. Ted struggled but lost Zeb helped me tie Ted's hands together behind his back.
"Jis' like a slave," said Zeb approvingly. "Yep," I said. "Trade ends?"
"Sure," replied our boss, the man who could fire us, Ted and me.
I moved into position, said "No teeth if you want t' keep yours," and face-fucked Ted. He cleaned his juices from my fucking dick.
Zeb invaded Ted's ass.
It took us both a little longer this time.
When we finished, we turned Ted over on his back and shoved his legs against his chest Ted's nice-sized cock was erect against his belly. I fucked his ass again. I was still hard. Zeb was a bit soft, but he straddled Ted's face and Ted cleaned oft the juices from his ass on Zeb's cock, and Zeb got hard again and face-fucked him.
My horse cock slid in and out, and Ted began to hump back. The third time I came, Ted on his back and legs in the air, hands bound under him, Ted came, too, his cum spraying his chest and belly. After that, every time I came, Ted came, too. Like clockwork.
Zeb and I were hot and horny that afternoon.
After Zeb and I had each come for the sixth time, Zeb, still dressed, and I sat against the lowest railing of the corral. Ted, still bound, lay in the dirt before us, his Levi's bunched around his ankles.
"What d'you think?" Zeb indicated Ted.
Ted was watching me. I shrugged. "Needs trainin'. He's got a lot t' learn." A disappointed look crossed Ted's face.
"Thirsty, Marty? Me, too. I'll get us somethin' t' drink."
Zeb vanished into the store. I rubbed the sole of my boot across Ted's nose, leaving a smudge. My cock, limp now, lay across my balls, the cockhead resting in the dirt between my legs.
Zeb came back with the sodas from the employees' cafeteria and we sat drinking them in companionable silence.
Then I said, "You thirsty, slave?"
"Yes, Sir," said Ted.
"Then you just crawl over here on your belly, get between my legs."
Laboriously, Ted on his belly crawled through the corral dint and lay between my legs. I put down my Dr. Pepper and lifted him into position, his head on my thigh, and put my cock into his mouth. I took another swallow of Dr. Pepper.
"Yer goin' t' get some soda t' drink, boy, right now, second-hand 'n' warm. I got t' piss."
Ted jerked his head but I held it in place, and then he relaxed, all the tension draining out of him. I pissed and he swallowed, every drop, gulping noisily. It felt good.
Zeb grinned and nodded. "He surely is corralled and on his way t' bein' broke in, Marty. You jist keep on lettin' 'im know who's his master."
"Surely will."
"Waal," said Zeb, after finishing his soda, "it's late, 'bout four o'clock, 'n' all this's made me horny," and his cock was sticking up again out of his fly. I motioned him toward Ted, but Zeb shook his head. "Naw, but thanks. I guess I'll mosey back t' home 'n' pay me a conjugal visit t' my wife. You boys finish up 'n' clean up 'n' lock the door when you leave." He tucked in his cock, buttoned up. He nodded toward Ted who was now sucking my cock. "My wife's great, but I do like a piece of male-nookie once in a while."
"Ted's available, Zeb, any time you want a piece of his nookie. We're 'bout done here." I leaned forward and untied Ted's wrists. "Kneel." He scrambled to his knees between my outstretched legs. While Zeb watched I tied the rope twice around his balls and twice around his cock and then around the base of his cock and balls, knotted it. He squirmed, but did not protest "Now, you get dressed 'n' go kneel in the corner of the corral 'n' stay there till I want you."
"Yes, Sir."
Zeb and I watched. Ted had a bit of trouble stuffing his erect bound dick in his tight pants, and the resulting bulge was downright obscene. And sexy. My own dick jerked.
We stood. I began to gather the tools together, my own hard cock sticking toward the sky, swaying with each movement
"When we finish here, Zeb, I'm takin' Ted t' my place. Ted's goin' t' spend some time with me, take my cock any way and every way I wan' t' give it t' 'im, learn t' obey, t' really be corralled 'n' broke in. I'm goin' t' give 'im a taste for leather, got some nice toys he'll learn t' like. Train 'im, break 'im in right"
Zeb and I looked at Ted. He looked me square in the eye. "Anythin' you say, Sir." He licked his lips, grinned shyly at me from his kneeling position in the corner of the corral. He hands were held behind his back, as if they were tied.
I said, walking over to Ted, "I'm goin' t' take this son-of-a-bitch home 'n' train 'im right" I looked straight at Ted. "Suck my cock, slave!"His mouth opened and Ted swallowed my throbbing dick. Zeb moved so he could watch. "I'm goin' t' string this cocksucker up 'n' whip his ass, 'n' I'm goin' t' put clamps on his nipples, 'n' I'm goin't'... Hell, I ain't goin' t' tell ever'thin' I'm goin' t' do t' 'im. 'N' yer goin' t' like it all, ain't you, Ted, ain't you, slave?" Ted gurgled around my cock buried deep in his throat and nodded his head. His hands were still behind his back. His head bobbed up and down my hot heavy shaft.
I pulled out of his mouth. His spit and phlegm made my meat shine in the sunlight "Pack this shit so we can go home. I'm gettin' horny." I reached for my shirt and started to dress.
Ted scrambled to pick things up. "Yes, Sir!"
Grinning, Zeb punched me on the arm and climbed over the corral railings and headed toward the roof door. After a few paces he came back to the railing. Ted and I stopped and looked at him. Zeb rubbed his bulging crotch.
"Say, Marty. I got t' work overtime next Sunday mornin' 'n' I'm goin' t' need helpers." His big hand outlined the thick cock down his left pants' leg. "D'you 'n' slave wan' the job?"
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conversation17 - August 10, 2021, 1:16 pm
I have not seen these Cavelo drawings before. Was there anyone more talented in drawing the human body with simple lines and shading than he. Look at those shoulders and those abs. Sheer beauty and epic impact.