Free The Last Chance Ranch by D.G. Parker

from, couldn't stop himself from twitching and moaning every time. His thighs trembled with strain and tension. Sweat sheened his body and dripped off the end of his nose. It was sweet torture, and he wanted it to go on forever, but his body was sending him the message that he couldn't hold position much longer. “Ben,” he groaned, putting all of his pleading into the word.
    The older man gave him a light smack on his upturned ass. “I like you like this,” he remarked, laying a few more slaps on Obie's skinny behind. “Think I'll do this from time to time, just to keep you from gettin’ uppity."
    Obie's retort ended in a very undignified squawk as Ben put two thick fingers up inside him.
    "Oh yeah. I like this a lot.” He worked his fingers in and out, twisting and then scissoring. Obie tried to push back and get that touch where he needed it, on that magic spot deep inside, but he could barely move at all. He was helpless to do anything but moan and shout while his lover played with his body. The fingers left him and two callused hands gripped his buttocks, pulling them apart. Obie waited for the thrust, tugging restlessly at his bonds and breathing like a steam engine. What he got was a long, warm breath ghosting over his opening.
    His toes curled and his back tried to arch. He was still gasping when Ben's length pressed into him. “Oh. Oh,” he groaned as his lover set up a steady pounding pace. “Yeah, just like that, just like that."
    Ben was a quiet, intense lover who usually left the talking to his partner. It seemed like living out his fantasy had loosened his tongue though, since rough whispers were slipping past his teeth. Obie bit his lip, wanting to silence his own sounds the better to hear his lover's. What he heard made him forget to breathe. In between “yes” and “God,” Obie distinctly heard what he'd been hoping to hear for nearly a year.
    And then Ben hit that magic spot, and sparks went off behind his eyelids like the striking of a flint. Behind him, Ben stroked hard, groaning louder than Obie had ever heard him. Obie too, was way beyond words, especially when his lover's hand wrapped around his cock, both stroking and shielding it from the fence rail. His balls tightened and rose in their sac, and with a throaty cry, he convulsed. He was bent at such an odd angle that his seed splashed against his own chest, some of it even hitting his chin. Ben faltered in his pace, shoving in deep and freezing while his release overtook him.
    Generally content to bask in the afterglow, Obie was in no position to appreciate it now. The stress of his position, combined with the midday heat, worse now that Ben was slumped over his back, had him wiggling before his heartbeat had come back down to normal. His grunts of discomfort caused his lover to stir. Slowly, with a groan of his own, Ben went to his knees and reached between Obie's spread feet to unknot the rawhide.
    "Oh, my achin’ back,” Obie moaned as he straightened, stretching with his hands clapped to a spot just above his tailbone. His shoulders hurt, his abdomen was rubbed raw. Hell, he even had a sore patch on his johnson from friction with the fence rail. He glanced at Ben, expecting a bit of sympathy, but his lover was staring at him with wide eyes, his nostrils flaring. Moving like he was in a dream, the older man reached up and swiped a thumb over Obie's chin, then pushed the thumb gently into Obie's mouth. Obie sucked the digit languorously, tasting his own seed, and beneath that, the sweat and musk of his lover. A lover that looked ready to go again, sooner rather than later. Obie moved into his embrace, passing the flavor on through a hungry kiss.
    "Next time,” he murmured into Ben's mouth, “we're doin’ my fantasy."
    "And what's that?"
    "I don't want to spoil the surprise,” Obie answered, grinning wickedly. “But it does involve a saddle.” Against his hip, Ben's exhausted organ gave an interested, futile twitch. Sooner rather