Cherokee’s Secret Desire

The two frot buddies had finally got together in a motel room after weeks of exchanging photos and favourite links about cock to cock action. 

Cherokee Jones of African and Cherokee descent was so excited to finally meet up with Seb as they are of similar age and physique. However, Cherokee also has a secret desire that his new frot buddy is yet to discover.

They both take time to slowly remove each other’s clothing while sporting pre-cum dripping boners which ooze even more as they apply massage oil to their bodies. Seb says, “Fuck man, I want to feel you against me so much!” Cherokee replies, “Well, if you think you’re man enough try and wrestle me into submission.” Still standing the two guys start to slowly grapple, savouring the feel of their oiled muscled torsos and erect cocks squirming against each other. Then, with a grin on his face, Seb pushes Cherokee backwards onto the bed, landing atop of him as their bodies and cocks slide rhythmically together. 

The intensity of their rhythmical physical contact increases to the point that their breathing becomes more like panting and Cherokee can feel that the urge to cum was becoming too great for Seb to overcome. Unnoticed, Cherokee slowly reaches beneath the blanket and quickly moves what he had earlier placed there to under his naked right thigh. Cherokee then feigns that he also is about to climax knowing this will tip Seb over the edge. Cherokee can feel Seb’s muscles tense and, as Seb holds his head high letting out a loud,  “AHHHH!”  he starts blasting pulsed loads of cum over Cherokee’s belly and chest.

Now it’s Cherokee’s turn to climax but Cherokee needs an extra element that will ensure a climax of such intensity that it will eclipse anything Seb was now experiencing. Grasping the hilt of the divers’ knife hidden under his thigh, Cherokee brings its tip up over his own belly as Seb is thrusting forwards up Cherokee’s body. Under the momentum of Seb’s own forward movement the tip of the serrated blade stabs deep into Seb’s outie navel >SHHHKT< at a shallow angle and slices down through abdominal muscle into his viscera. As Seb bucks and writhes Cherokee explodes into a long climax as he twists the divers knife deeper into into Seb’s guts, his pulsing ejaculation mixing with the hot blood also pulsing from Seb’s belly wound. Cherokee, fully satisfied, rolls Seb’s body off of him and takes photos of his latest victim to add to his growing collection. 

Once back in his home town Cherokee again starts following up on those unsuspecting contacts seeking a frot buddy, little knowing that they will soon be cock to cock wrestling with a guy who also has a secret and out of control navel stabbing fetish.

Confessions of a Gang Member

In this barrio two rival gangs compete for dominance, my gang, the Falcons and the Cholos, Pantera gang. Over the years too many good warriors have been lost in the gang wars, now we try to keep to our own quarters but… there now exists a no man’s land that only the bravest warrior dare enter to leave their gang’s tag… like the way a male wolf marks its territory.

There I hear a noise and head for cover behind a concrete pillar when I make out a lone, late teens, Pantera gang member holding a bag from which he takes out a spray can of paint. He is dressed in a waistcoat and jeans much like myself except for the patch of a panther head on the back of his waistcoat where I carry the symbol of a falcon. I am taken by the contrast of his Mediterranean skin tone with the classic look of black leather waistcoat and blue denim jeans. My enemy then sets about over tagging a falcon symbol on the wall of the underpass.

His mid length hair is as black and slick as a freshly preened raven’s wing ringed by the red bandanna across his forehead. His short leather waistcoat exposes his chest and midriff as he stretches to over-tag the falcon symbol with a panther’s head. As he stretches his oblique muscles and ribs catch my eye and I scan across to his lean abdominals; I watch them flex distorting his innie navel and as I follow the fine happy trail from his bellybutton to jean line I can just make out a scar on his lower belly. I ponder for a while on who had shanked him in his guts and how he was able to survive it… probably he got the better of a falcon before he was gutted. My gaze is then absorbed by the beguiling bulge in his jeans and I am aware I am hard and oozing precum for this young enemy. However my attention is drawn back to his belted waistband and the exposed handle of a blade… 

At 24 I am at least 5 years older and in my prime of fitness but a chill runs through me as I realise the only physical contact between us can be one of violence.

While the youth is busy retagging the wall I move to a position out of his view and slowly make my way closer to him. About 10 feet from him he suddenly spins around at me with his hand covering the handle of his blade… I immediately hold my hands out to show I’m not carrying but he takes a firm hold on the handle of his knife and says, 

“Hey hombre you really don’t wanna take on a Pantera cos I’ll gut you!”

As the youth speaks I focus on his sexy green eyes and see the fear within them which belies his arrogant bravado and I say,

“Hey cholo, to gut me you’ve gotta get up real close and personal… so young panther do you want to get real personal?”

To my relief the youth then takes his hand from the handle of his blade and as he gestures for me to move towards him he says,

“Listen hom if you’ve got the guts come get up real close”

As I approach him his green eyes fix onto my grey as we both keep our hands away from our blades. I come right up to him and notice how his hairless chest gives away his rapid breathing despite his apparent arrogance. I slowly look down at his toned body and notice a small damp patch forming over his bulge and realise he’s wearing his jeans commando style which gives away his oozing precum. I then see his eyes are also taking in my athletic physique when he says,

“A fight between us would be well matched…”

As he speaks he suddenly reaches out and starts feeling my abdomen and says,

“Hom, your belly would put up a good resistance to my blade.”

Surprised at his boldness I too touch his youthful firm body as we mutually close together so our naked bellies and chests feel the warmth of each other. I caress his chest and rub his nipples which makes him gasp and thrust his hips towards me. I run my hands slowly down his belly and fondle his tight bulge and then… I slowly unzip his jeans and help his swollen cock from its confinement. He is uncut and his foreskin readily exposes his drooling and glistening helmet. My excitement is enhanced by the danger of having this encounter with an armed enemy, something which he too must be feeling. Then I feel his hands pulling my member from my jeans as he starts rubbing my cut cock against his and we both start to make guttural noises as our hips rhythmically maintain the stimulus. When I start to lick his nipples I feel all his muscles spasm and, as he grunts, a blast of his cum hits my belly and I softly say,

“Well cholo you got me in the belly after all”

He says,

  

“Well hom I guess I’d better finish you off”

With that he intensifies his caressing until I too explode against him and we both just stand there locked in a warm embrace.

Suddenly his whole body becomes tense as his head moves rapidly from side to side and he reaches for his blade… I look behind me and to my horror, there flanking us at mid distance are two Falcons and each has his blade at the ready to deal with the invading panther. The youth says,

“You tricked me to let my guard down, now I’m dead but not before I kill you”

With that he struggles against me to draw his blade…

I say,

“No! No! don’t! Stop!….”

He acts like a trapped animal and fiercely tries to plunge his now drawn blade into my guts as I try to hold him off but… instinctfully I find my own blade in my hand and before I can stop myself I feel it pierce the firm resistance of his lower abdominals a few inches below his navel at the same location of his old belly scar. As I push my blade deeper into his guts he judders and gasps. He then slumps against me holding his arm over my shoulder to support himself as I realise I have to finish him off… So I stab his firm belly another three times until he falls to his knees to look up at me with those enticing green eyes before falling sideways to the ground exposing his handsome but bloodied physique.

Before the other two falcons reach me I manage to get my cum and bloodied cock back in my jeans. Both of my brotherhood then praise me for the killing of the panther but they clearly ponder the reason for his exposed cock…

 

                                                                       El Fin

Something a Little Different

The following stories are not about the Wild West but were written for a change of setting. If any reader wants more like this please say so in the comments 

Deadly Encounters #7

Wacochi is walking just ahead of me as we make for the cover of a nearby wooded area. I take in his vee shaped coppery red back and the way his muscles flex when transferring his weight as he walks. This is my enemy! He is Crow and I Cheyenne, yet he is helping me reach my own people. As I continue to admire his physique… >Thwuuump< What! No!… Wacochi comes to an abrupt halt, all his back muscles seem to spasm and he cries out, “Urrrggghhh!!” Then >Thooonk<  “Ayiieeee!!” as another arrow sends him spinning around for me to now see two arrows in his belly, one on each side of his navel. He falls to the ground on his back squirming and writhing in pain and I hit the ground next to him. He is still alive and his pain filled brown eyes look straight at me and, as he slowly reaches his hand out towards me, >Shwooomp< another arrow strikes him in his naked lower belly at a shallow angle into his guts as he just gasps dropping his arm and is still.

I look into the tree line to see who is attacking but >Thunk< another arrow lands in the ground at my side >Thunk< yet another but closer. I must run! I get up in a crouching stance and run, zigzagging, towards the tree line as >Whoosh< an arrow flies past my head just as I reach tree cover. But the enemy is nearby so I must be alert as I make through the trees. Suddenly I hear a noise from behind me and, unsheathing my knife, I spin around to be met by a knife wielding indian. But he is Cheyenne! I know him! I quickly say, “Red Knife, not Crow!” Then a muscled forearm from behind puts me in a choke hold and I cannot speak. The Cheyenne I recognise is White Wolf from my village but why hasn’t he recognised me? Can it be that Wacochi did too good a job of making me look like a Crow! White Wolf grasps my knife hand and pushes his naked chest, belly and loins against my right side with our nipples and manhoods rubbing together. He snarls into my face with his piercing dark eyes and says, “White Wolf know Red Knife not Crow.” “Chief send groups of warriors to look for Red Knife, it is good we found you first.” Then I feel the tip of his knife being held in my navel. He continues, “Red Knife always humiliate White Wolf in wrestling games, Red Knife always chief’s champion.” “White Wolf too late to stop young Crow buck out there from gutting you like deer but we kill him with arrows for what he did to you. This is what chief will hear and believe when we take both of your bodies back to village.” I struggle hard against the one holding me but as I do White Wolf removes his knife from inside my navel and... I hear >Shhhkt< as he thrusts his blade with force back into my navel… I feel a deep burning in my guts and hear myself cry out, “Urrrggghhh!!” White Wolf’s manhood grows against mine as it is bathed in my hot blood as he starts to cut the blade into my guts, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” I yell out as I buck against him, the fire in my guts spreading to my whole body. I then feel a hot weight sliding over my manhood and down my buckling legs as my vision blurs and I hear “Die Red Kni…

White Wolf and his loyal brother cut the entrails free from the gutted carcass of Red Knife, Cheyenne warrior. They haul his naked body over the back of a skewbald pony alongside that of his naked enemy, Wacochi of the Crow tribe and then ride off towards Red Knife’s village with a tale to tell.

  

                                                                   END 

Deadly Encounters #6

I rise with the sun and see that Wacochi is still asleep so I kick him to muster him into action. I take my bow and quivered arrows to hunt us something to eat. I’m not having much luck and, after a while, decide to return. As I approach where I left Wacochi I see two naked Crow warriors, separated from each other, scouring the area around where we had made camp but there is no sign of Wacochi.

The low sun would be in their eyes so I make my way closer to the nearest warrior and kneel down to steady my aim as I target his belly. The arrow enters the brave’s navel with a >Thwuuump< as it tears into his taught abdominal muscle. The warrior lets out a muffled cry as he claws at his belly on either side of the arrow as he falls to his knees for a moment before falling backwards writhing and clutching at the arrow’s shaft. As he writhes he arches his back pushing his belly upwards before slumping back to the ground. As I crawl up to the arrowed warrior I can see he is still alive from the irregular trembling of the arrow’s shaft. As the brave sees me he weakly reaches for his sheathed knife at his waist. I then place my left hand over his mouth to muffle any cry as I grasp the arrow’s shaft with my right hand and forcibly agitate and push the arrow around in his guts until his whole body shudders and then becomes still. I tear the arrow from his belly, cutting back through the supple abdominal muscles that had closed around its shaft. Then… an arrow ricochets off the rocks right next to me; I’ve been spotted by the other warrior! There is no immediate cover for me so I grab the dead Crow and use his body as a shield, >Thwuuunk< as an arrow enters the dead warrior’s upper abdominals. Now I quickly notch an arrow to my bow and take aim… but wait! I see Wacochi approaching the Crow bowman in greeting but the bowman just points in my direction to show Wacochi where the enemy is. Then, as the bowman levels his bow at me, Wacochi grabs him from behind in a forearm lock on his neck and arches the warrior backwards over his own belly at the same time as he pulls the bowman’s own knife from its sheath. Then, before the warrior can react, Wacochi brings the knife around to the Crow’s stretched out abdomen and stabs inwards deep into the warrior’s lower belly and pulls the blade up through muscle and guts until it cuts into the Warrior’s navel, “Aaarrrggghhh!!” I see the Crow’s entrails start to hang from the gash in his belly before he slumps to the ground.

I make my way over to Wacochi and the dead warrior and can see in Wacochi’s face he is in dilemma over taking the life of a tribal brother. I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder and, as is his way, he just nods that he is okay. Knowing I can now fully trust Wacochi I hand him the dead bowman’s bow and quivered arrows and we continue our journey south.

Deadly Encounters #5

Having lost my loincloth in my last encounter I am as naked as some of the Crows. Apart from my hair and war paint I could pass as a Crow. So I undo my braided hair and try to alter my war paint as best I can to appear, at first sight, a Crow. 

As I continue my journey through Crow territory I can see the figure of a Crow lookout silhouetted against the skyline on a tree lined hill. I cannot risk him spotting me crossing open ground so I decide to take him out. I approach his position cautiously, crawling on my belly until I reach the cover of the trees and then work my way, tree to tree towards him. I am now very close and can see he is a young brave, maybe three summers younger than me. My sight lingers on his completely naked war painted body and I find myself admiring his lithe physique. His prominent painted cheekbones making him look savagely handsome.

Just as I stealthily pass between the trees he turns and sees me, yet he remains calm and even beckons me over to him. Realising he mistakes me for a Crow I exploit this opportunity but as soon as I am near I Suddenly rush forward at him, knocking him against a tree. I grab the lookout and I know that not only is this brave young, he is also inexperienced. Being this close the young brave can now see I am not Crow but Cheyenne and I see surprise turn to fear in his brown eyes.

I stop his hand from grasping his knife and push him up against the tree and use my body firmly against his to prevent him getting away. I hold the tip of my knife just inside his deep belly button which makes him squirm and try to flex his belly away from it. I can feel the warmth of his flexing greased body and his naked manhood against mine. Then he says, “Cheyenne not kill Wacochi, Wacochi let Cheyenne get away.” I know I should push my blade into his taught abdominals and guts as he is my enemy and would surely kill me if he could but I don’t know what prevents me from doing it. Then, as he squirms more against the tip of my blade, I feel his manhood respond to the intense stimulus in his belly and the danger of being vulnerable to the blade of his enemy. He pulls his war painted head back and makes a guttural groan and I find myself gently twisting the tip of my blade around inside his navel and letting it catch on the ridges within. He groans more as his squirming against me intensifies and I find myself also stimulated as our manhoods slide against each other. Then his whole body tenses and shudders against me as if I had stabbed him and I feel a hot flow on my belly but, not of his blood. My whole body now also spasms and we are both weakened and strangely feel less aggressive towards each other by this unexpected encounter. I grasp his knife and take it from its sheath as I say, “Wacochi help Red Knife be like Crow and Wacochi not die!” He just nods his head and says, “But Wacochi not kill Crow brothers.” I just nod my head back at him. Wacochi sets about smearing my war paint with his and rearranging my hair under my headband. He smiles at me and says, “Cheyenne is now Crow!” I then gather the war lance and bow and quivered arrows from my earlier encounters. I hand Wacochi’s knife back to him and watch as he sheathes it at his waist and I say, “Wacochi is no match for Red Knife, if you turn on me you die!” Wacochi nods and we head off to the south.

After a while we enter a pass through some hills and I can make out another Crow lookout above the pass. As he sees us approaching he descends towards us and raises his hand in greeting looking first at me and then, in recognition, at Wacochi. His eyes stay on Wacochi as he says, “Wacochi why are you away from your lookout area and who is this?” as he looks at me. Wacochi just stares at him, so he says again, “Who is this Wacochi?” with more urgency in his voice and his hand slowly going towards his knife. But before he can ask again I bring my war lance up and forward which he tries to side step but… >Shhhkt< my lance enters his naked belly just below his navel, “Eaaarrrggghhh!!” I rip the lance from his belly and thrust again directly into his navel, “Ayiiieeee!!” as he doubles up and blood runs down his exposed manhood. I push the lance hard into him and he staggers backwards and falls onto his back writhing on the end of the lance. I move the lance around in his guts and angle it down more into his lower belly and viscera as his whole body shudders and his teeth clench together. Out of the corner of my eye I see Wacochi reaching for his knife so I tear the lance from the Crow’s belly and spin around levelling the bloodied lance tip at Wacochi’s abdomen. Wacochi has his knife half way out of its sheath and freezes in that position, but what should I do? I say, “Wacochi want to die now?” he then slowly pushes his knife back into its sheath and shakes his head so I lower my lance.

As the sun is about to set I decide we should rest and continue the journey in the morning. I find a good spot amongst some boulders and after hunting and eating raw rabbit I look at Wacochi. He eyes me suspiciously when I produce some strips of leather hide but soon knows what I intend to do with them. I grab his hands and tie them behind his back, then I lay down with the lance at my side. I try to sleep but every time I open my eye I find Wacochi staring at me. Having had enough of this I throw a small stone at his head which he just avoids and place a larger rock near me for him to know that is next to be thrown should he continue staring. When I again look at him he is huddled and shivering and I too am cold from the night’s chill so, keeping his hands tied, we lay together keeping each other warm. But slowly I feel Wacochi push himself harder against me and I find myself untying his hands…

Deadly Encounters #4

My encounters so far have left my loincloth stained with Crow blood and gore so I am pleased when I come across a shallow flowing river. I remove my loincloth and soak it in the flowing water which feels so good I pull myself in lying down allowing the water to flow over my naked body. Up to now I have not rested much and find the coolness and sounds of the flowing water so restful that my senses become numbed.

Suddenly I sense danger and become aware of the presence of two Crow bucks approaching the river bank. They are both naked but for leather thongs from which hang their sheathed knives and each has a bow and quivered arrows across their backs. I try to keep low in the water but I realise there is no point as the two have clearly tracked me here and are waiting for me to make the first move so, casting my loincloth aside, I slowly rise from the water. I now stand upright with the water on my copper skin glistening in the afternoon sun with my knife hanging from my own thong waistband. We stare at each other and then the two slide their bows and quivers from their war painted naked forms and lay them on the ground.

I am outnumbered two to one as the two braves draw their knives at me. One decides he will be the first to draw the blood of his enemy and he rushes at me ahead of his tribal brother who is close behind. As they enter the water running they create cascades of white water with their bare feet, their manhoods rhythmically slapping from one thigh to the other. As they close in on me I unsheathe my knife and take up a crouching stance at the first buck. As he lunges his knife at my chest I am able to parry his attack by side stepping which causes him to get within my knife’s range. I then slash him across his lower abdominals as his momentum carries him past me and he falls forward clutching at the long gash in his belly. By now the other brave is making contact with me, grasping at my knife hand while bringing his own knife upwards towards my belly. The brave’s skin is coated with buffalo grease which, with my wetness, makes our bodies slide and squirm together as we struggle to overpower each other. I feel our firm manhoods locked in their own combat and know we both are stimulated by this visceral contact.

The Crow’s war painted snarling face is so close to mine I can smell his breath. As we knife wrestle our positions are constantly changing, his blade targeting my belly then my chest and vice versa. The young buck is strong but my stamina gradually helps to overpower him as the tip of my blade catches against the ridge of his outie navel. I see the the hate in his brown eyes change to fear and then pain as my knife, overcoming his resistance, slowly enters his belly. He cries out, “Eaaarrrggghhh!!” as his naked body shudders against mine and as he weakens my blade sinks deeper into his guts. His hot blood gushes from his belly onto mine to flow off my manhood and billow into the water. I pull my bloodied knife from his guts and… >Shhhkt< I force it back into his navel, “ Urrrggghhh!!” and pull the blade from side to side until he slumps off my knife and into the water.

The other buck is now trying to crawl to the river bank still clutching at his abdominal wound. I stand over him and place my left forearm around his throat and pull his head up and back causing his body to arch backwards out of the water. I then reach my knife under his belly and stab up into his lower abdominals near his manhood and tear my knife up and into his stretched out navel. The brave shudders making a guttural gasp as his intestines spill into the water.

I move a little up river to bathe myself in water untainted by the blood and gore of my attackers.