Happy Trails	

"Happy Trails," first appeared in the summer 2006 issue of Forbidden Fruit (www.forbiddenfruitzine.com). WARNING for a bit of BDSM :D

                                                  *****

“Gimme another dog.”

“Get your own.”

“C’mon, Rick.”

I glared over at Pete, sitting buck-ass naked on a blanket by the campfire. Long legs stretched out, black cowboy hat pulled low, dark curls all sweaty against his neck. Pretty mouth just smiling. Lazing around while I cooked, as usual. Thinking that just ‘cause he’d spread for me any damn time, that meant I had to wait on him.

Problem was, he appeared to be right.

“Fine.” I stuck the last of the hot dogs on a straightened-out coat hanger and held it over the fire. He grinned.

Bastard.

He gave me big sloe eyes when I handed him his dog. “Thanks, babe.”

“You can thank me in a minute.” I stood over him and watched as he wolfed down his fourth dog. Every time we go camping, he eats enough for a damn army. Where the fuck he puts it all, I don’t know.

I waited ‘til he finished. When he’d swallowed the last bite, I pulled the end of the hanger out of the coals and pressed the tip to his nipple.

“Fuck!” He arched, shaking, brown eyes hot and wanting. “Rick...”

“I know.”

I held the red-hot metal to his other nipple. He collapsed onto his back, moaning, those lean thighs spread wide. I unzipped and started stroking myself. He mirrored me, big hands pulling his thick cock.

“Yours, Rick.” Those dark eyes burned.

“Mine.” I whacked the inside of his thigh with the hot wire. He hissed, cock twitching. “Turn over.”

He rolled onto his belly, got his knees under him, and stuck that pretty as fuck ass in the air. The base of the big red butt plug I’d made him wear lay snug between those firm cheeks. Made me feel hot all over.

Pete looked over his shoulder at me. “Do it.”

“Yeah.”

It took a few minutes, seeing as how all I had was a coat hanger. Pete screamed and clawed the ground and came before I was done, but I didn’t mind. By the time I’d finished branding his ass with my name, my dick was about to bust. I reached down and yanked the plug out. The sight of that stretched hole nearly made me lose it. My cock slid right in, and I fucked him ‘til we both saw stars.

Later, I sat and watched Pete sleeping, flat on his belly, hole plugged up again, anti-biotic ointment coating the fresh brand. That hot piece of man belonged to me, from that stupid hat he always wore to his bare feet. The raw burns spelling “Rick” across his ass told it to the world.

Mine.

I pulled him close and fell asleep under the wide, starry sky, with my own private cowboy in my arms.

The next night, I let him brand me.