The Cowboy Poet Read Online Free

self-deprecating grin. Nah, nothin‘ so glamorous. My third time out I got pinned to the wall by a pissed-off steer before I even got to mount him for my eight seconds of glory. Tore up my leg on a wooden post and that was the end of my rodeo career, such as it was.
    Tyler ran his fingers over the smooth, ridged scar tissue and leaned forward, lightly licking the flesh with his tongue. His cock was aching. Still on his hands and knees, he lifted his head, craning toward Clint‘s bobbing shaft and swaying balls with parted lips.
    Clint was watching him, a strange fire behind his eyes making them glitter beneath the hooded lids. Then he bent forward, and Tyler felt the older man‘s calloused hands moving along his spine, his long arms reaching steadily downwards. Tyler was nearly shaking by the time those hands finally moved over his ass, stroking the flesh, circling toward the center. Clint pressed the fat head of his engorged cock between Tyler‘s willing lips as his fingers played along the cleft between Tyler‘s ass cheeks.
    Tyler moaned against the shaft, unable to stop himself from pressing against the finger poised at his entrance. It eased inside him as Tyler sucked eagerly on Clint‘s cock. He alternated between sucking Clint‘s cock as deep as he could and thrusting back toward the hard digit pressing its way inside him. He was momentarily dismayed when Clint pulled his cock from Tyler‘s mouth and the finger from his ass. He forgot his dismay, however, as Clint pressed his head, gently but firmly, toward the floor, which in turn forced Tyler‘s bare ass up like an offering.
    Keeping one hand firmly on the back of Tyler‘s neck, Clint‘s other hand returned to his ass, spreading the cheeks and inserting one and then two fingers into Tyler‘s stretching orifice.
This is what you need, he said in his low, laconic drawl.
    Tyler groaned, his cock throbbing between his legs. As much as it disconcerted him, something about being held down in this way, forced into such a submissive posture, was almost enough to make him come on the spot. He realized his mouth was resting on the top of one of Clint‘s bare feet. Without consciously thinking about what he was doing, Tyler began to kiss the top of Clint‘s foot.
    Despite promises to himself to keep this encounter light and easy, Tyler could feel the pull of Clint‘s powerful presence. He felt himself drifting into that secret, dark place, pulled down by Clint‘s sure touch and the unspoken power that shimmered between them and settled over Tyler like a finely spun web. As Clint continued to finger and fondle Tyler‘s spread ass, Tyler let go, losing himself in a deep sensual slide.
You look good down there on your knees, boy, Clint said in that low, sexy rasp.
    When the words penetrated the sensual fog that had filled Tyler‘s brain, it was as if the door to a secret room had been pulled suddenly open and the lights flicked on, harsh and unwelcome.
    Tyler sat back abruptly on his haunches, wrapping his arms protectively around his chest. I‘m not into that stuff, he muttered, angry at himself. Hadn‘t he sworn to steer well clear of this kind of man? Danger signs flashed in his head. Somehow he needed to move the action back to sex, pure and simple. Hadn‘t the disastrous relationship with Wayne taught him that?
    Clint stepped back, his arms falling away from Tyler‘s body. He lifted his eyebrows, offering a sardonic smile.
Tyler closed his eyes, consciously pushing away the memory of Wayne slamming him against the wall in the tack room. Yeah, the sting of the whip against his bare ass had been exciting, but he could have done without the hard punches to his chest and shoulders and the careless slaps to his face afterwards. Though he‘d come to hate the man, he‘d still loved the rough play, as much as he wanted to deny it.
But despite his powerful reaction to what Wayne had offered, in the six months since he‘d been gone he‘d managed to keep those