Read Online Karen Mercury by Manifested Destiny [How the West Was Done 4] - Free Book Online Page B
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would be acceptable in society, yet she could accompany him on his photographic expeditions, breathing in the fresh, out-of-doors air.
Foster returned his eyes to the business of shaving, but now he was fuming to think that Worth would win Tabitha’s hand. After all, they had both believed in the ghost dog before Foster had been convinced. They must share similar beliefs—a feature of a strong marriage, Foster now knew.
“I wonder if Phineas will show up on the photographic print.” Foster mused as he scraped the last of the soap from his face with the blade. His eyes flitted away from the mirror to view Worth’s silhouette. Worth stood in profile toweling off his enormous horse’s cock, which bobbed and swayed between his muscular thighs. Almost as though he knew the sun was casting that shadow on the screen and he enjoyed displaying that massive phallus just to tantalize Foster.
“That’s got me curious, too,” said Worth, emerging from behind the screen. He didn’t bother even wrapping the towel around his trim waist, just slung it over his shoulder to stand behind Foster. Bending over, he peered into the mirror while fingering his excruciatingly handsome face. Foster knew he was wondering what sort of shave he’d need, but in Foster’s current irritation, it seemed as though Worth was admiring his handsome devil’s face.
He stood so close that Foster could feel the heat from his crotch against his shoulder. Since Worth had no shame or self-consciousness about his body—and with good reason, as he was built like a brick house—he stood there with his stupid towel slung over his shoulder and his hot erection pointed right at Foster’s shoulder.
Foster managed to say, “I wonder if she appears to other people?”
“It occurred to me,” said Worth, “that maybe only we’re able to see her. We should test out that theory by taking her into public, maybe on a leash so she can’t vanish.”
“If she vanished while on a leash, I wonder if we’d be standing there holding an empty leash?” Foster mused.
In the next flashing of an eye, though, and without absolutely any forethought, Foster found himself standing behind Worth, nestling his erection into the buoyant cleft of Worth’s ass. He gripped one of Worth’s shoulders in a steely claw, the other hand wrapped around the root of Worth’s prick.
Foster humped his erection into the steamy cleft, immediately on the verge of orgasm. To his vague surprise, Worth didn’t protest this assault. He even seemed to surrender to it, leaning forward with his hands propped on the vanity, and he seemed to spread his feet a few inches apart. No dimples appeared in his cherubic face now, just the hitch of his upper lip into a slight snarl as his eyes slid half closed.
“You want this, don’t you,” Foster snarled, hunching over the beautifully muscled back. “You like showing off your thoroughbred physique, making men hot.” It was the same thing he’d accused Worth of during the boxing bout on French Creek. Foster wasn’t sure how much he truly believed that Worth purposely stood around displaying his meaty ball sac, flexing his pectorals for the view of other men—it was merely a handy excuse for why Foster was acting crazy as a bedbug, overcome with lust.
Worth squirmed his ass sensuously, nearly sending Foster over the edge. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“Then why is your cock throbbing in my fist?”
“It’s a natural reaction to being stimulated.”
“But it was stiff as a board before I even grabbed you.” Foster stroked the cock now, long, thick, and delicious in his palm. Foster enjoyed being the aggressor. He knew that he’d only jumped up to hump his friend due to his repressed lust for Miss Hudson, for lack of anyone handier to hump. The prairie flowers were several blocks away.
Worth’s face twitched at being fondled so brazenly like this. When Foster’s dry palm stroked the shiny, bulbous glans, Worth gasped, his
Foster returned his eyes to the business of shaving, but now he was fuming to think that Worth would win Tabitha’s hand. After all, they had both believed in the ghost dog before Foster had been convinced. They must share similar beliefs—a feature of a strong marriage, Foster now knew.
“I wonder if Phineas will show up on the photographic print.” Foster mused as he scraped the last of the soap from his face with the blade. His eyes flitted away from the mirror to view Worth’s silhouette. Worth stood in profile toweling off his enormous horse’s cock, which bobbed and swayed between his muscular thighs. Almost as though he knew the sun was casting that shadow on the screen and he enjoyed displaying that massive phallus just to tantalize Foster.
“That’s got me curious, too,” said Worth, emerging from behind the screen. He didn’t bother even wrapping the towel around his trim waist, just slung it over his shoulder to stand behind Foster. Bending over, he peered into the mirror while fingering his excruciatingly handsome face. Foster knew he was wondering what sort of shave he’d need, but in Foster’s current irritation, it seemed as though Worth was admiring his handsome devil’s face.
He stood so close that Foster could feel the heat from his crotch against his shoulder. Since Worth had no shame or self-consciousness about his body—and with good reason, as he was built like a brick house—he stood there with his stupid towel slung over his shoulder and his hot erection pointed right at Foster’s shoulder.
Foster managed to say, “I wonder if she appears to other people?”
“It occurred to me,” said Worth, “that maybe only we’re able to see her. We should test out that theory by taking her into public, maybe on a leash so she can’t vanish.”
“If she vanished while on a leash, I wonder if we’d be standing there holding an empty leash?” Foster mused.
In the next flashing of an eye, though, and without absolutely any forethought, Foster found himself standing behind Worth, nestling his erection into the buoyant cleft of Worth’s ass. He gripped one of Worth’s shoulders in a steely claw, the other hand wrapped around the root of Worth’s prick.
Foster humped his erection into the steamy cleft, immediately on the verge of orgasm. To his vague surprise, Worth didn’t protest this assault. He even seemed to surrender to it, leaning forward with his hands propped on the vanity, and he seemed to spread his feet a few inches apart. No dimples appeared in his cherubic face now, just the hitch of his upper lip into a slight snarl as his eyes slid half closed.
“You want this, don’t you,” Foster snarled, hunching over the beautifully muscled back. “You like showing off your thoroughbred physique, making men hot.” It was the same thing he’d accused Worth of during the boxing bout on French Creek. Foster wasn’t sure how much he truly believed that Worth purposely stood around displaying his meaty ball sac, flexing his pectorals for the view of other men—it was merely a handy excuse for why Foster was acting crazy as a bedbug, overcome with lust.
Worth squirmed his ass sensuously, nearly sending Foster over the edge. “I don’t do it on purpose.”
“Then why is your cock throbbing in my fist?”
“It’s a natural reaction to being stimulated.”
“But it was stiff as a board before I even grabbed you.” Foster stroked the cock now, long, thick, and delicious in his palm. Foster enjoyed being the aggressor. He knew that he’d only jumped up to hump his friend due to his repressed lust for Miss Hudson, for lack of anyone handier to hump. The prairie flowers were several blocks away.
Worth’s face twitched at being fondled so brazenly like this. When Foster’s dry palm stroked the shiny, bulbous glans, Worth gasped, his
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