He tried to distract his focus from his discomfort to the mundane chore of cleaning his guns and checking his ammo for defects. Sometimes the shells w...re slightly dented from their exposure to the constant riding in the saddle and the fixing of the fences that helped keep their stock from straying. He usually carried a spare box of cartridges in his saddle bag to bolster the rounds on his belt and in his six-shooters.It was the sign of a hired gun and not a run of the mill cowboy more. I slowly stroked Phil’s cock and eased a second greasy finger into his tight ass. He moaned and arched his back further and I felt him loosening around my probing fingers. Releasing his hard cock, I moved up to kiss his parted lips while adding another finger to the two already working his hot hole. My hard throbbing cock brushed his warm thigh and I feared I would cum from that slight contact. “Are you ready?” I breathlessly asked. “Ohh yeah, that feels so good. Put it in,” Phil panted. I. More

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