Postcards From the Ledge (and Other Extraordinary Folk): Some Men Go Crazy (Story 2) ~ Part C

Ken Painter By Ken Painter, 29th Dec 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>General Fiction

Join me in a stroll through an eclectic collection of short stories filled with gay and straight characters in the mid-Michigan communities of Lansing and East Lansing and surrounding areas as they laugh, love, and find their lives intertwined in inexplicable ways. (Some of the stories - not all - contain softcore male/male sex scenes, and some of the material contained has been previously published on Wikinut by this author and have been modified from its original form.)

Test #2

(Author's Note: Parts of this story contain STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT between two consenting adult males. If this offends you if any way, you may want to skip this story.)

That following Friday evening at approximately 6:30 their front doorbell rang again, only this time Tim was the one to answer to find a studly looking cowboy delivering a pizza standing on their front stoop. However, it was a tad warmer this time out. “Howdy, Sir. You ordered a large sausage pizza with exter cheese,” he drawled.

“Yeah, come on in.” Tim motioned for the cowboy to step inside for a moment while he got his wallet thinking all the time, Geez, he sounds just like he stepped out of West Texas! For real!

“How much was that total again?” Tim asked the cowboy delivery guy nicely.

“That was $27.10, sir.”

“Shit, that’s what I was afraid of,” Tim replied. “I’ve only got $25 in my wallet, though I may have a little change in a cup I keep in the bedroom, but I doubt I’ve got enough to cover a tip for you. Geez, I’m awfully sorry.” Tim gave the cowboy delivery guy a thoroughly sorrowful look. “That was a little more than I expected it to be I guess.”

“’S’awraht,” the cowboy replied. “Happens all tha tahm. Folks git a lorge, add on tha exter cheese, forgit bout the delivery chorge and tax, and don’t listen to tha total on tha phone, happens all tha tahm, not that I’m puttin’ ya down or anythang. But Ah ’spect we kin work sumpin’ out fuh tha tip.” The cowboy shot Tim a positively devilish grin.

“Well, what did you have in mind?”

The cowboy walked over to Tim and suggested, “Whah doncha put this down somewheres first?” Tim took it into the kitchen table and returned quickly whereupon the cowboy took him into his arms and kissed him fully and longingly on his lips then added a bit of tongue.

When the cowboy finally released Tim, several moments later all Tim could think of to say was, “Wow! But I don’t even know your name. I’m Tim.”

“Name’s Buck,” the cowboy replied. “Rahms with fuck.”

It took every ounce of fiber that Tim possessed not to break character at that moment into hysterical laughter, because he realized that may have been half of what Jeff was trying to get him to do, the big NUT! God, he couldn’t have loved anyone more if he tried. But he resolved he would not crack his exterior. Jeff was trying to pull a Tim Conway (his dad had raised him on reruns of The Carol Burnett Show), and Tim was not going to be his Harvey Korman. This was his fantasy, damn it!

“Well, Buck rhymes with fuck,” two could play at this game Tim thought as he tossed it right back at him, and Jeff the cowboy’s eyes just shined with the challenge, and Tim thought he even caught a hint of a smile in the corner of Buck’s lips. “If I’m gonna give you what I have in mind for your tip it’s worth a helluva lot more than the five dollars that would be customary under these circumstances. So I think we’re gonna need some kind of barter here, some kind of trade off, Mr. Cowboy Stud. Whaddya say?”

“Okay,” Buck said with a devilish grin. “Just what didja have in mahnd?”

Tim shot a wicked grin back at him as he sat down in their overstuffed chair and pondered the dilemma for a moment. He stared at Buck appraisingly, up and down, appreciatively, ogling the stud like a side of beef hanging for sale in a meat locker. “Well, sir, I really like what I’m seeing,” Tim began “you standing there all duded up in that gray cowboy hat and painted with that form-fitting, hot, plaid, western cut shirt. I love that tan vest. Is that real leather? Smells like real leather.”

“Yup, it’s real leather,” Buck replied.

God, Jeff sure knew what buttons to push. He’s trying to appeal to my leather fetish, Tim thought. God bless him. “I thought so. And those blue jeans, they fit you real good, nice and snug in all the right places. And I suppose if the vest is leather then those chaps must be leather too?”

“Yup, and the tan boots too. Everythang’s leather.”

“Well, Buck, you look right nice standing here in my living room all duded up like a western peacock,” Tim smiled warmly as he stood up and placed a small but inviting peck on his lover’s lips. “There’s just one small problem.”

“Yeah. What’s that?”

“You’re way over-dressed,” Tim replied with a shit-eating grin though Buck was not at all surprised. He’d not only expected it, but if Tim had examined him just a little more closely he’d have noticed his dick beginning to noticeably lengthen out in sweet anticipation of what Mr. Buck rhymes with fuck was already planning in the back of his mind. “I think you need to begin stripping those off Buck, one at a time, and make it good, please. Would you like some music?”

“Not unless you would,” Buck challenged with a sort of smirk.

Oh this was going to be great, Tim thought. It was all he could do to keep from fondling himself. “No I’m good,” and he smiled his best at the cowboy who had already removed his hat and placed both of his hands on top of his head and started undulating his hips in front of the brown-haired man with blond roots who occupied the overstuffed chair in front of him.

Slowly, seductively, and surely, and one piece at a time each piece of the stud’s clothing was removed from the top down until he stood there in front of Tim completely naked with the exception of his white jockey briefs and the tan chaps. Tim had sat in awe of Buck after he had clumsily removed the cowboy boots (there’s just no way to gracefully shed them) but then switched into a seductive removal of the blue jeans without even once touching the chaps which left him standing there in his current state of near-bareness as he shot smoldering looks at Tim which had started Tim to rubbing his own crotch exuberantly through his jeans. Both were noticeably erect and thoroughly enjoying themselves now.

When Buck turned around and began wiggling his ass not more than two feet from Tim’s face as he commenced the slow descent of the tightey whitey’s down his hips dropping them to the carpet and then kicking them away with his right foot, Tim thought he might pop his cork, but he didn’t. Buck began undulating his beautiful ass cheeks from less than two feet away from Tim’s face, the assless chaps swinging and swaying and flapping in the breeze that Buck was creating in the living room like some king of wild, exotic cowboy hula dancer in bare-ass chaps instead of a grass skirt. And Tim got his nostrils full of that wonderful leather scent mixed in with just a hint of Buck’s musk coupled with a hint of his ass sweat. And suddenly Buck turned around for the full frontal.

Well that just did it! Swinging and swaying with that beautiful steel rod dancing proudly right out in front of him not more than two feet away like a bouncing flagpole waving in a summer storm, Tim moaned deliciously, “Oh God.” He smiled and chuckled. “I creamed, you bastard,” and he began laughing harder, “you made me cream my pants, Jeff!”

Jeff started cackling hysterically for a moment. “Gotcha!” He laughed again, and he pulled Tim to his feet, and then he went the extra mile as he gently pulled down Tim’s jeans and dropped to his knees to begin licking through the huge wet spot in Tim’s light-blue briefs. “Oh sweet Jesus,” was all Tim could reply with his hand on Jeff’s dark-brown tresses. Moments later Jeff pulled Tim’s briefs down below his knees and thoroughly began cleaning the jizz from all around Tim’s curly blond pubes, and when that joyfully, tangy job had been completed, he turned his attention to Tim’s rod which had once again found its tensile strength until Jeff had nursed on it sufficiently so that once again Tim began filling him up with more love juice. Ah, the joys of a little leather Jeff thought. Well worth the price!

When at last they finally adjourned this little rodeo hand-in-hand to their bedroom, Tim said as they curled up together in bed, “What’s with the Texas accent? You’re damn good! I thought you just fell off a horse or something and into our front room! How come I’ve never heard that in all our years together?”

“You liked that, huh? Ye ahta hear me Ayrish than,” and Jeff shot him a shit-eating grin after the lilting Dublin brogue.

“Oh my God! You can talk to me like that any time you want! Who are you and what have you done with my husband?” They were both laughing now. “Well, I mean it. Your accent was flawless, but you still haven’t answered my question.” Tim went back to it, “why am I just now finding this out about you, Darlin’?”

“You know, Dude,” Jeff looked lovingly but seriously into Tim’s eyes as he rubbed his fingers though his lover’s already fading brown hair, “I wish I could tell you why I’ve never lapsed into one of these goofy accents at home. I’ve got a whole bunch of ‘em I really do, but I promise you this, my love, after tonight,” and his voice choked up at this point, “you’re gonna start hearing ‘em all! Not all at once mind you,” and they started chuckling through somewhat dewy eyes, “but sooner or later you’ll get the full range of ‘em.”

Tim rested his head on Jeff’s shoulder and said, “I look forward to it. You simply amaze me!”

“You know, Tim. I’m gonna confess something to you right now though. And I don’t think it’s a reflection on you or our home life or anything, because I think you’ve figured out by now I love you more than the world itself . . .”

“Yeah I kinda got that idea.”

“Well, maybe it’s something I need to talk about with Matt, I don’t know, I’ll probably bring it up. But I use all these accents at school off and on at one time or another in the course of teaching lessons here and there. And I’ve been doing that for years, from the very beginning, sort of like Showtime! But I’ve never used them here at home. Funny isn’t it? Kinda reminds me of a conversation I had with Jerry Jenson the 4th grade teacher across the hall from me last year. He does a few different voices too, and I don’t know which one of us put the label to it, but we both agreed that a lot of us teachers, the better ones are really often just frustrated actors. And then we had a good laugh over it.”

Tim suddenly looked up at his hunk of a man with tears in his eyes, not only with such deep respect, but with a newfound awe. Jeff looked back at him and said, “What?”

“You have absolutely no idea how much in love with you I am at this moment!”

Jeff leaned closer to Tim and whispered, “then kiss me you sweet fool.” And after they shared the longest and most tender of kisses Jeff smacked Tim on his bare ass and said, “Care to join me in the kitchen for some pizza? I’m getting kinda hungry?”

“But I haven’t taken care of you yet?” Tim registered his protest.

“Oh, but the night is young, my sweet.” And he grabbed Tim’s hand leading his naked lover to the kitchen where they heated up individual slices of sausage pizza in the microwave.

As they sat down at their table to munch on the pizza, Tim pointed over at his nearly-naked lover who sat next to him still in his chaps and asked, “Okay tell me about all those wonderful leather goods. Did you rent those, or what?”

“Well, that was my intent,” Jeff started. “But the price I got from the costume shop for just one night was so pricey that I thought what the hell, and I did myself a little shopping. I ended up at three different stores, a hat shop, a western wear shop for the boots, shirt and vest, and I got the shirt and boots from the clearance shelves.”

“I’m impressed,” Tim offered. But what about the chaps?” He eyed Jeff carefully with a grin.

“Yeah, well, I had to go out to Grand Legion to a horse feed and tack shop for that one. Had to let my fingers do the walking on the Internet. And yeah, all of it cost three times more than it would have cost if I’d rented it at the costume shop, but it’s ours to keep, and the costume shop didn’t have the chaps!”

“Oh well, then,” Tim laughed, “enough said. They’re going to love that outfit at No Limits for their annual Halloween Party. But you’ve gotta keep your jeans on.”

“Damn! Spoil sport!” Jeff chuckled at his lover with a wicked grin and a mouthful of pizza.

(End of Part C (of 4) of "Some Men Go Crazy (Story 2)".

Link to Part D (the conclusion) of "Some Men Go Crazy (Story 2)" . . . Here


Erotic Role-Play, Erotic Romance, Erotic Short Stories, Erotica, Eroticism, Gay Community, Gay Couples, Gay Experience, Gay Lesbian And Bisexual, Gay Love, Gay Men, Gays, Lgbt, Lgbt Community, Psychoanalysis, Psychologist, Psychology, Sexual Activity, Sexual Behavior, Sexual Life, Sexuality, Short Fiction, Short Stories

Meet the author

author avatar Ken Painter
Retired Chicago public school teacher. Singer, songwriter, musician, author, & opinionated old curmudgeon. Married to my husband & living in Colorado, USA. Also a father & grandfather.

Share this page

moderator Steve Kinsman moderated this page.
If you have any complaints about this content, please let us know


Add a comment
Can't login?