Wade and me have been keeping company three years now, running the gang and enjoying each other in the manly way because we found early on that neither of us chased women, which, in the long run, saves a man money and time. Wade and me get at each other a lot, but we also run the gang, plan the holdups. This was once robbing mostly trains since they carry a good haul, but times have changed. Here in 1895, the express companies employ Pinkerton men on the trains, so we only have banks to hit.
Wade’s good with a gun, knows horses well, and fears no man, so he fits the life. He can be a hothead at times, but I find that particular fire appealing. Couple times, we’ve beat hell out of each other over things I can’t now recall, then fucked because our blood was up. Wade’s the opposite of the kid—darker, thicker, harder—but he’s just as handsome, though in a more grown up way. First sight of him, I was hooked. We got to it right off, behind the Lawson saloon in Greenlee, and have been together ever since.
I allow some time to get to the river because I like to arrive when Wade’s full naked and fooling with himself. It’s not much of a river, just a snake of water maybe a foot deep running through a grove of cottonwood trees, but we like it because it’s far enough from the ranch house so the kiddies don’t see any nasty business that would cause Hannah to come down on us something awful. Anyway, I get to the river and Wade’s standing knee-deep, looking like a friendly bear because he’s hairy all down the front. His big pink dick is fine contrast to the fur, especially when, like now, it’s hard. He’s ignoring it as he washes the rest.
At the water’s edge, I strip, which feels good, and I’m so hard down there, I’m aching. I grab my dick and work it some, which gets Wade looking. And grinning. He runs a hand around to his backside, like he’s washing, which he sure as hell is not. I splash into the water, grab him at the waist, and go at him so hard it would make a stallion proud. I’m not inside two seconds before he yells he’s coming, and too soon, I am, too, claiming my territory once again.
When I’m done, I pull out and Wade straightens up, turns to me, and we embrace like always. Only time we do that is after a good round. Feels good to hold my man like that, close up for once, knowing my stuff is in him. He’s said how he likes that, whether in the saddle or back in the cabin, spunk sliding down his leg to remind him what’s been in there.
Wade and me don’t kiss, don’t have a mind to do such a thing. It’s not like with a woman where there’s red lips and big tits. Man don’t kiss another man, he just fucks and maybe rubs some. That’s enough for Wade and me, always has been.
“Good one,” he says as he pulls on his cock, ample even when soft. I’ve sucked it sometimes, swallowed his stuff more than once, but don’t let him fuck me. No man mounts Roy Fitch.
“Hell, yes,” I agree. “Best get back, though. I want to see that kid’s haul, make him pay his way in.”
“We never made nobody else pay in.”
“We never took a man who just robbed a bank.”
Wade doesn’t argue.
We dress and go back to the cabin, where we find Evan telling the tale of the bank job gone wrong. Virgil and Dewey listen, but when we come in, the kid stops.
“Keep on,” I tell him because I know he’ll feel better for it. I rest on a bunk while Wade takes a chair and we hear how the kid saw his brother killed, a brother more like a father, and how he had no time to help, had to be quick, so he shot the killer and ran, money bag in hand. Says he kept riding till his horse nearly gave out.
“Don’t know where I was then,” he says. His voice is softer than most and I wonder if that’s him not yet having faced what we all have. “Camped and slept with the money close. I needed it to get by, but hated it, too, being it cost Bart his life, and I came to see how I’m truly alone. Never had that before. For a time I thought to do myself in, such was my grief. Then I thought of going back to pay respects to Bart, but knew I couldn’t, so he’ll be put in some awful grave and I’ll never know where.
“After a sleep, I rode on to Greenlee, where I met Jack in the saloon. He was friendly, which helped, that and the whiskey. After I’d got to know him some, I told him my story. That’s when he told me he was part of the Farrow gang and how he thought I’d be welcome. So that’s how I come to be here.”
“That is a sad story,” offers Wade.
I say nothing because I know the comment is meant to close talk of that and open up about Evan sharing his loot. Sure enough, after a minute, Wade does just as I expect.
“You know, Evan, if you have big money on you when you join an outfit, it’s the custom to share it. None of us ever has more than the others. How much did you get from that bank?”
“That’s the worst of it, losing Bart, and getting only four thousand. I’ve still got most of it.”
“The fair thing would be for you to give over three thousand to
