WET DREAMS I

Wish You Were Here

by Wendy


It had been a hard ride and the soap and water had been heaven sent, and least southern sent. Ezra had been kind enough to offer his room and his own personal bath for the tracker's use. Not one to turn down a private room, Vin patted Ezra's back extra hard and ran up the stairs before the gambler could changed his mind. So intent on skipping every second step to get there, the tracker missed the sly smile that spread across the gambler's face.

Everything was ready, the bath looked warm and inviting as Vin shut the door, stopping only to pull the latch, so he could bathe uninterrupted. Tossing his hat on to Ezra's bed, Vin stretched as he tried to work the kinks out of his body. Slowly running his fingers through his long hair, he sat on the bed and pulled at his boots and socks and let his feet enjoy the naked freedom of air.

With a deep sigh, he laid down and stretched again as he enjoyed the relaxation of the gamblers very comfortable double bed. Feeling a little too comfortable, Vin stood up and very slowly let his buckskin jacket slip from his shoulders and fall to the ground. Pacing his way to the window he kept an eye on the street as he slowly began to undo the buttons of his shirt. One by one, he slowly pulled the wooden buttons through the holes until it was open all the way. Sliding the suspenders off his shoulders, he left them hanging as he peeled his shirt from his sweat covered body.

Once his shirt was gone, Vin traced his fingers over his chest, closing his eyes, he imagined that it was Chris's hands that were touching him, caressing; branding him. Slowly his right hand moved down toward his trousers as his left toyed with his nipple. Slipping his hand under the rough feel of his pants, his fingers came in contact with the quickly hardening member. The more he thought about Chris and how he wished it was the gunfighter touching him, the harder he got.

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Chris couldn't believe he was doing this. It had been Ezra's idea and in a weak moment of weakness he had gone along with the gambler. He couldn't remember when the Southerner had been come his confidante when it came to his feelings for Vin, but he had and this was the consequence; he had to admit it wasn't a bad outcome. Hidden away in Ezra's closet Chris sat perfectly still as he watched Vin through a small hole that the gambler had in the door. Why it was there the gunfighter didn't want to know, he was just grateful Ezra had thought of it.

Ezra had positioned the bath and his ornate full length mirror, so no matter where in the room the tracker stood the gunfighter would be able to see the object of his affections. Chris held his breath as he watched Vin enter the room, only stopping to lock the door behind him. The tracker always took his breath away and today was no exception as the gunfighter's eyes saw beneath the dirt and dust to the gorgeous body underneath.

He continued to watch silently as the tracker discarded his boots and socks and then trailed every inch of Vin's jackets fall to the floor. For a moment he thought Vin was going to disappear from his sight but, no, there he stood in full view as he slowly opened his shirt button by button.

Chris found himself biting his bottom lip as he watched Vin's fingers nimbly maneuvering the buttons through the holes and then sliding the suspenders of his shoulders. The gunfighter watched mesmerized as the tracker stripped his shirt from his body baring his chest to his appreciative gaze. His breath caught in throat as he watched Vin close his eyes and start to run his hands over his body. It took all the gunfighter's willpower not to charge out of the closet and bodily throw the tracker on to the bed and take him then and there.

His eyes traveled with Vin's fingers as they crept downward to the bulge that was now pressing at the tracker's pants. Reaching down to his own neglected hardness the gunfighter mirrored the tracker's movements inch by inch.

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Vin opened the buttons to his trousers and let them slip down his legs, stepping from them he stood naked as he continued to blindly feel his way. His fingers twisted and pinched at his nipples as he began slowly stroke his now erect hardness.  With each stroke, it was Chris' hand. Which each pinch of his nipple it was Chris' mouth tracing a path of fire over his body. With his hand clasped tightly around the base of his shaft, Vin's hips began thrusting in time with the vision he was seeing in his mind. The tracker could feel Chris' his tongue lapping at the tip of his thrusting hardness and Vin pumped harder into the imagined embracing lips. Throwing his head back, the tracker's hair fell over his shoulders as he felt himself building to his eventual release.

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As Chris followed Vin's movements stroke for stroke, the gunfighter nearly lost it himself when he saw the complete rapture the tracker had immersed himself in. His hand moved up and down his throbbing shaft at the same time as Vin's hand touched his own and as the tracker began thrusting into his fist, Chris followed in reaction.

Both men with that same silent bond that had began their friendship released their seed into their hands; both bemoaning in silence that they were alone.

THE END