Jasper's the pen name I use when writing hetero fiction with female dominants. In my tale from the old American West, The Black Pouch Crusader, Pete Radcliffe spends a good deal of the story roped naked to a stretch rack while lustful women try to loosen his tongue with torments painfully erotic.
In this vanilla scene however, Pete and his detective partner, Jack Hutch, are getting a bath, courtesy of their new client and long-time, former prostitute friend, Marjean Hoodenpyle. The tub's in adjoining hotel rooms in Franklin, Idaho Territory, 1880.
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"Yes, indeed." Marjean moved her sponge onto Jack's chest, as both men sat naked in hot water at opposite ends of the tub, legs drawn up and feet flat. "My, my, wasn't I lucky?" she bubbled. "Catching you here? Getting both of you naked so I could bathe you like you're my baby boys?"
"We're making the circuit," Pete gave a straight answer. "I left Bear Lake this fine Thursday morning with our two mules, headed for Paris
(Idaho)and Toothless Frank's. Got what we needed, packed 'em up and came here. While I's doing that..."
"I came straight here today myself," Jack finished. "With our donkey Albert and horse Annie. Needed to get Annie new shoes and we like the blacksmith here. The one in Paris ain't very talented. Besides, there's no available females in Paris. Every woman's spoken for."
"Yep. Mormons snatched 'em all up. It's just not fair when one man's hoarding a dozen workable women all to himself."
"Praise Jesus!" Marjean exclaimed while sponging Pete's slightly-submerged crotch and more-than-slightly erect cock. "That's quite a religion they got going."
"Yes, ma'am," Jack agreed. "Any other man'd be arrested. So anyways, Marjean, we met here, put our animals up in the stable, checked for mail..."
"Of which there was none," Pete interjected.
"Right. And we planned on heading back for Bear Lake in the morning."
"But not now," Pete grinned while holding up his foot for Marjean's sponge. "Got us a damsel in distress."
"And a change of plans." Jack held up his foot for equal treatment.
"Looks like Betsy's got the tub in 24 ready to go. Right, Betsy?" Pete hollered to get her attention, door between the rooms unashamedly open.
"Yes, Mr. Radcliffe," she answered while making no effort to avert her eyes from the shenanigans in Room 22.
"Thank you, Betsy. We'll call you when both tubs are ready for dumping."
And with that, Pete and Jack stood to proudly display their matching hard-ons. "Towels, please."
"She's cute," Marjean observed with two towels in hand.
"How do you like that, Pete? Here's two fine-looking men standing naked before her and she pays compliments to Betsy."
"Guess we're losing our touch, Jack."
"Guess we'll just have to show her we ain't lost a damned thing. Get your tight ass in that tub, Miss Hoodenpyle."
"Ooh, Jack," she giggled. "Since when are you so feisty?"
"Since right now. Scoot!"
They took their towels and patted themselves dry, dropping both onto the floor before stepping out of water. One minute later Pete and Jack were double sponging Marjean Hoodenpyle in Room 24. Half an hour after that they laid upon the bed in Room 24, Jack's bed, with Jack flat on his back, Marjean sitting on his thighs hand-rubbing his belly, and Pete knelt behind her outside Jack's knees, his hands on her breasts, his lips on the back of her neck.
"Oh, Jack," she cooed. "How come I never got a feel of this handsome pecker you got on you?"
"Because you were too busy with me," Pete whispered. "See what you missed?"
"Well, I'm not going to let that happen again." She took Jack's penis in her hand, squeezed on it, stroked its entire length -- a nine-incher, a fine complement to his nearly-six-foot and lanky frame with lots of black fur -- maybe a few silvers if you looked real hard. "Goodness gracious, you beautiful man, you." She positioned his corona to her portal, her vaginal walls excitedly dripping plenty of lubrication.
"How old you think he is, Marjean?"
"Who cares?" She lowered herself, forced his mushroom inside her.
"Go ahead and guess. Bet you're way off."
"Ugh... ah, yes!" Half his nine inches impaled her, as she let go with her hand, controlled him with her vaginal muscles. "Thirty-seven?"
"Forty-three."
"Aw, Jack... you are looking fine, indeed." Her pelvis met his. She took all of him. Full penetration.
"Mmm, hmm..." Jack reacted. "You're looking mighty good yourself, ma'am. You can ride on me to your heart's content."
"Oh, my god... it's been so long since I've had a real man inside me." She slowly raised herself to the top of his pole, crushed his cockhead in her warm, wet vise, and then began her torturous glide back down his entire length. Pete's hot breath on her neck and rough fingers on her nipples, coupled with Jack's hot woody splitting her open nearly made her blood boil. She reached up and behind her with both hands, grabbed Pete's head and pressed him close to her. "Oh, Pete... get up here so I can see you, too."
He followed her orders. Stood on the mattress. Stood in front of her, his feet on either side of Jack's flanks. She took his cock in her hand -- a seven-incher, a perfect complement to his brown-fur-covered, 5'10" hard-muscled frame.
"Give me a pose," she drooled. "You beautiful son of a buck."
He clasped his hands to his butt, did some belly flexing as she put her lips to his cock-head, licked on him, praised him between licks, "How on earth... mmm... ohmigod... did you get a... (slurp)... body... ahmum... so... uhmah..."
"Rocks," Jack butted in. "He's always digging up big ol' rocks. Got 'em strung out all over the cabin grounds. Spends half the day every day lifting the damned things."
"Then I swim the lake, no matter how cold the water."
"Screw me," she slobbered. "Both of you... poke holes in me... (slurp, slurp)... both of you." She slavishly sucked on Pete. Took him to the back of her throat and crushed him there while riding up and down Jack's impaling pole. She double-screwed herself -- skull-fucked by Pete, pussy-fucked by Jack, her hands clutching the backs of Pete's thighs, her knees straddling Jack's hips. She did it to herself. Took what she wanted when she wanted. All they had to do was keep themselves nice and rigid. Not a problem for either man.
"So, Jack, I'm thinking it best if I catch the northbound in the morning, while you take the animals and supplies home to Bear Lake."
"Yep. That's the only way. Then I'll do a turnaround with Annie, stay here overnight and catch the Saturday northbound."
"I suspect Marjean will travel with me."
"Makes sense, Pete. We'll check with her when she's finished."
"Are you getting close, Jack?"
"About half way."
"Me, too. Let's shut up and enjoy this."
"Gladly. I'll hold off until Marjean's got off. You hear that, pretty lady? I'm gonna wait for you to spill it. Yes, darling. Ride that big ol' pony. Squeeze the hell out of me, you beautiful female, you."
"Uh, Jack?"
"Yes, Pete."
"Thought you agreed to shut up."
"Just wanted to let Marjean know how good she is at..."
"Shut up!"
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The Black Pouch Crusader is a stand-alone ebook with my (see above) self-made cover, sold exclusively at
1EroticaEbooks, where a kinkier excerpt awaits you.
Black Pouch is also part of my three-story collection, The Crux of It, Erotic Tales of Men on the Cross and the Women Who Put Them There. I made these covers, too.
Print paperback (left) is at
Amazon Books.
or here's the cover (below) for electronic version:
Made for the
Amazon Kindle.
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All of my books -- Jardonn, Jasper, gay, straight and in between, can be seen at my web site,
Jardonn's Erotic Tales.com, along with links to more audio and text excerpts for each.
