March’s Exclusive Excerpt, Part II: Cowboy Up

Shane Allison has done it again in Cowboy Up: Gay Erotic Stories–another stellar collection of the hottest gay erotic stories all set in rural America where the stillness of nature is in direct opposition to the feirce passion of the sweaty, muscular cowboys in this volume. Each expertly written story allows these rustic men to give way to their desire, whether it be their new farmhand or a poor lost city boy. In fact, in this excerpt from “The Naked Cowboy” by Shane Allison, Antwan, a city-boy himself, is forced to depend on the kindness of strangers, namely Heath, a lonely, down-on-his-luck ranch owner outside of Tallahassee. Little does Antwan know that Heath is eager to offer him more than a cold beer and conversation…

I had figured Heath wasn’t from here. They don’t make them as beautiful as him in Tally. “I didn’t think that you were from here. You don’t look like somebody I went to high school with. I’m forever running into people I went to school with. I was just telling my friend, AJ, that I get sick of running into people that—”

“Antwan, has anyone ever told you, you talk too much?” Heath’s remark was a shock to hear if not ballsy on his behalf to say.

“I know. My mama tells me that all the time. My friends say that I don’t let people get a word in edgewise. I go on and on. Would you believe that I was a shy kid growing up?”

“Antwan?” Heath said.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and come over here. I can barely make you out sittin’ all the way down there.” Heath padded his knee. “Come have a seat.”

I thought Heath’s request was weird if not random. “Actually, I’m good. These kitchen chairs are pretty comfortable. Good and…sturdy. Strong legs. Did you make these yourself?”

“Enough with the small talk. I’m not asking; get your ass over here.”

Being that Heath’s gun was leaning against the side of the refrigerator behind him, I didn’t want to risk what would happen if I refused him. I took another swig of my beer, got up, and walked over to the end of the table Heath was sitting. He tapped his sinewy leg, motioning for me to take a seat. “I’m pretty heavy. Are you sure—” Before I could finish my sentence, Heath grabbed me and pulled me into his lap.

“That’s better. How does that feel?”

“Fine, other than the fact that the last time I sat on anybody’s lap, I was seven and he went by the name Santa Claus.” Heath chuckled before he took another drink from his beer, his full, pink lips tight around the rim of the bottle. His hands were lthy, with grit under his nails from all his hard work.

Heath rested his arm around the lower part of my back. “Things got bad when I had to put my daddy in a home. Caught the same thing my granddaddy did, Alzheimer’s. I tried to take care of him for a while, but I couldn’t give him the care he needed. Last thing he ever said to me was that he regretted having a faggot for a son.”

“Jesus, Heath, that’s awful.”

“I mean it was the disease talking. Other than the suits from the bank, I don’t get a lot of visitors out here, so it’s nice to have some good company.” I met Heath’s gaze as he supported me in his lap. His arms and shoulders were huge and strong, glistening with sweat. Heath ran a finger along my jaw. He pulled me to him and kissed me. His lips were wet and supple against mine. I could taste the beer when he slipped his tongue in my mouth. Heath ran his hand under my shirt, making my dick stir in my shorts as he traipsed my nips with a couple of dirty fingers. I felt his hard-on twitch through his jeans under my ass. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said.