Fuckin unbelievable. What am I doin here? I should be home on the range giving head to a ramrod or trail-boss, or even a chuck-wagon cook, not stuck out here, in the middle of the street wilting under a high noon sun with some fucking barn-boy ready to blow my fuckin' brains out.
Gay Western Showdown
Historical Sex Story Above Athens
We liked having sex, in the vestibules of town houses, in the public baths, next to the statues of naked gladiators with their idealized body parts, better-looking than us, no pimples, but we were alive and could do what they could't, what they would never do.
Historical Story: Hunter's Return
The older guy, you well know, is me--and always will be, podner-- and my hand is not just lyin' on your shoulder casually, but graspin' in a gesture of possession, need, and protection, just like it has been ever since both sets of our parents died on the wagon ride from the east and the party decided we'd have to continue the trek in each other's company, me in charge. The watch on my vest in the photo catches your eye. Your hand instinctively goes to that same watch in your pocket. With a look of relief and familiarity, you pull it out, wind it, and place it on the bedside table. Then you turn to me.
How a Boy Survives in Athens Among the Spartans
They trained for hours, never ending; block and parry, doge and thrust, back again. From sunrise to sunset there was only heat, the clash of metal, and the grunting of men. I was never able to join in, of course, I wasn't one of them. My parents died when I was young, so I had to manage on my own.
Lord And Squire
To one side of the circular room was a bed of great size heaped with thick skins and furs; Sir Gawain and I smiled at one another, for we knew we had found a place to fend away the cold. There was also a great fireplace which to our fortune was supplied with firewood alongside, and I immediately busied myself in building a fire. While I was thus occipied my lord was skirting the room, examining the tapestries, armaments and other devices which were hanging on every wall. When I completed my task and came up behind him, he was examining a small tapestry on its own, which hung from a simple leather strap. Though somewhat faded, it clearly depicted two comely men embracing in a Greek manner.
Meet at the Rise of the Moon
Just two more places to go, and then he'd be done with his round. He slowed down. Listening intently, he continued at a crouching walk. "Pssst! Sean! Sean O'Farrell!" In a flash, he was over by the person who had hailed him. "It is tonight, then?" asked the young girl. "Aye!", said Sean. "Captain's orders: All must be ready at the rising of the moon. " "Ah. The old place by the river?" "The same.
Old West Gang Of Thieves
You'd think, after all these years of being a part of the most notorious thieving group - we're named the Saxons - in the Valley of Brittlewood, that I'd know better. Stealing from the mayor, shoot, I should've known I'd regret it, especially since I was doing it without Garret's knowledge, much less permission. Garret's the leader of our little thieving group.
Plantation Slave Fucks White Guy
I am a slave on a cotton plantation, I live with my woman called Portia and my child. Life is hard but good for us slaves, master Johnson up in the big house is good to us all. Well, as good as a white master can be to his slaves, but his no good white trash overseer is hard and cruel.
Prince And Pauper
A little too much of London's grimy streets. " Prince Hal couldn't be punished for being bad, after all, he was the boy-king to be. But I could be punished in his place. I had this great job inside the palace; I was the whipping boy. If Hal forgo a royal prerogative and broke etiquette, like farting and giggling in front of the Spanish Ambassador, I'd be in for it.
Rambone Gay Cowboy Story
It was late evening, we sat in front of the roaring fire. Harvest Rambone, U. S. Marshall, sitting in the big armchair, his belly full of my good cooking. I sat on the carpet by the hearth, gently laying my arms on his broad thighs, my head in his lap. The fire lapped us with bright orange gleams, and it was time for stories.
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