Cowboys Don't Kiss And Other Gay and Bisexual Love Stories

By Ken James

Sexy First Times

First times: gay, bisexual, lesbian, and even heterosexual. Not necessarily first time sex, but rather people exploring possibilities and finding new paths.

This collection contains a brand new gay story plus 12 of Ken James' raw and romantic gay and bisexual love stories.

Kissing Cowboys (New)
Jerry is a sexy young cowboy. He's straight, but his girlfriend is 200 miles away and the other ranch hands are starting to look really good to him. He doesn't realize it, but they're looking at him, too. One hot horny night, everything busts wide open.

Cowboys Don't Kiss
Jeff was Ken's first, when they were teenagers. They meet again as adults and the smoldering embers they left behind burst into a forest fire of passion.

Love In The Rockies
Kathy and I were virgins, both eager to learn about sex. We used each other, but we also gave each other a lot. A true story.

The French Student
Ashley is a college freshman. She has a boyfriend, but she wants her first time to be with someone who sets her on fire and he doesn't do that. Genevieve is Ashley's roommate, an exchange student from France who enjoys nude sunbathing. Ashley isn't into girls. Until . . .

Trespassers
Ken catches a pair of sexy trespassers in his warehouse. Diane and Jose broke in to have sex. Ken gives it to them. Both of them, as Ken turns them every way but loose.

Hot Hustler
Young patrolman Sam Avery is straight, with a hot girlfriend who loves sex. Their relationship is almost perfect. But, Sam can no longer deny his attraction to other men. Finally, he picks up a gay hustler and discovers how badly he needs man-on-man sex.

Plus seven more.

Includes an introduction and Ken's comments on the stories.

Contains explicit male-male, male-female, male-male-female, female-female, and group sex, including anal sex, oral sex, analingus, voyeurism, and exhibitionism .

Visit kenjamesfiction.com for my free stories and extended samples from my books.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ken James
• Release date: Sep 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005904388

Ken James

I was born in Denver and raised in Cheyenne, Wyoming. My first time with another boy was in my early teens. Girls came a few years later.After I graduated from the University of Wyoming, I spent a year as a roadie for a series of rock and roll bands, then moved to Austin to work for a computer company.I started writing in grade school and was a reporter on my junior high and high school papers. My lover (now husband) and I published a gay newspaper in Austin for several years.I've been writing gay and bisexual erotic fiction since 2003.I live in Austin with my husband Wayde.

Book preview

Introduction

First Times

My first time was with my best friend Jeff. We were teenagers. I didn't know what to do, but he showed me. That was the beginning of a long torrid relationship.

We never kissed. I didn't even think about kissing Jeff and he probably never considered kissing me. In our minds, we were young cowboys, making do until we found randy young cowgirls to share our beds. Cowboys simply . . . did not . . . kiss other cowboys! I learned better, but that came later.

That's the origin of the story Cowboys Don't Kiss. It and Love In The Rockies are the first stories I posted on Nifty Erotic Stories Archive and Literotica.

We all remember our first time. It's the ultimate rite of passage—a profound experience which shapes and transforms us. This is when we become fully sexual beings.

Cowboys Don't Kiss is a book of First Time stories. Not necessarily stories of first time sex, but rather tales of people exploring possibilities and finding new paths.

Kissing Cowboys is a brand new story, written exclusively for this collection.

I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

More About Me

I've been reading for most of my life and writing for almost as long. Ironically, I had difficulty reading at first. Mom had to sit down and work with me every night to get me to read. Then, something just clicked and I took off. In grade school, I'd get a half-dozen books from Cheyenne's Carnegie Library every Saturday and read them all in the next week. Pretty soon, I'd read everything in the children's section and moved upstairs to the adult books.

After all that reading, it just seemed natural to do some writing of my own. I started in grade school with the famed Big Chief tablet and a pencil. In my early days as a school reporter, I'd dictate my stories to Mom, who'd type them on her little Smith Corona portable. She'd been a secretary and was really fast. Watching my words appear on the paper was magical.

The single most useful class I ever took was typing in eighth grade. My top speed was something around 90 words per minute, although my accuracy wasn't great. Typing really liberated me from the drudgery of writing by hand.

The stories I wrote were standard boy stuff: adventure, mystery, and science fiction. They weren't any good and I usually didn't finish them, but at least they were my stories. Then, I hit puberty and started writing sex stories. Those weren't much good, either. I kept writing and they got better.

I was attracted to girls, but also I loved looking at the other boys in locker rooms and showers. After gym class, I always hurried to put my glasses on so I could see the other guys clearly.

I never had any anxiety over my sexuality. I didn't want to get caught, but that was simple pragmatism, given the homophobia of the era. It was a long time before I encountered the term bisexual, but I instantly knew that fit me perfectly.

When I decided to try publishing my erotic stories, I contacted a bunch of gay magazines, such as Blueboy and In Touch For Men (no connection to the religious magazine). Unfortunately, my stories didn't meet their criteria and I wasn't willing to change to accommodate them.

The Internet came along and I started posting my stories on various erotic websites. I didn't make any money, but I didn't care because I wasn't writing for money. More recently, ebooks made it possible for me to self-publish my stories.

Along with my erotic books, I've now published two mysteries. Jack Hammer – King's Ransom is a hard-core gay romantic thriller in the Mickey Spillane tradition. Dark Flowers is hard-boiled noir, set in hippie San Francisco.

Cowboys Don't Kiss

Reigniting teenage passion

I was in the Automotive section of K-Mart, scanning the stack of air filters for the right part number, when I noticed him. He was my age—about thirty-five—and dressed in a cowboy hat and boots, with a western shirt and blue jeans. His body was slender but strongly muscled. His eyes were shadowed by his hat brim, but I could see he had a bushy mustache. He'd been staring at me for a couple of minutes.

He looked awfully familiar, but I couldn't place him. Then he removed his cowboy hat and I saw his brilliant green eyes and unruly curly black hair.

It was Jeff Cramer. Growing up in Cheyenne, Wyoming, we'd been best friends from kindergarten all the way through high school, but we'd drifted apart after that.

We'd run into each other once in Laramie while we were attending the University of Wyoming. He was a pre-vet cowboy while I was a computer science major with hair halfway to my ass. We'd gone to the Fireside, a bar where both cowboys and freaks were welcome, and talked about old times over a couple of pitchers. We didn't talk about sex and we never got together again.

After college, I'd moved to Austin. Cheyenne was Wyoming's capital city and the home of the world's oldest rodeo, but that hadn't stopped me and my buddies from leaving for good.

I'd heard that Jeff had gone to veterinary school at Texas A&M. It was one of the best in the country. After he'd graduated, he'd come back to Cheyenne and joined his father's practice.

Jeff and I smiled warily at each other and started to shake hands, but then we laughed and embraced. In a flash, all the old heat between us came back.

My first time had been with Jeff. I hadn't known what to do, but he'd showed me. That had been the beginning of a long torrid relationship.

We'd never kissed. I hadn't even thought about kissing Jeff and he'd probably never considered kissing me. In our minds, we'd been young cowboys, making do until we found randy young cowgirls to share our beds. Cowboys simply . . . did not . . . kiss other cowboys!

I'd learned better, but that came later. Jeff married a girl in college and their first child was born a few months after the wedding. By the time he'd graduated from A&M, he'd added two more kids to his heterosexual credentials. The last time we'd made it had been on a drunken night when we were seniors in high school. Jeff had refused to face me after that.

Now, 15 years later, it was like we'd forgotten all that. We talked for a half hour and then made arrangements to get together that night.

Jeff's address was in a new development. I was surprised to find it was a little duplex, not at all suitable for a family with three teenagers. Jeff understood my puzzled expression instantly. Carol and I were divorced about a year ago.

We spent the next couple of hours talking about careers, politics, and how we'd solve all the world's problems if the rest of humanity were just wise enough to give us absolute power. We also hoisted a few and were pretty buzzed by the time the conversation turned really personal.

I told you Carol and I were divorced, Jeff suddenly said. What about you? Did you ever get married?

I wondered if I should keep playing the game or just come right out and tell him. No, I never did.

Jeff looked at me for a long time without saying anything. Then he changed the subject, sort of. You remember all the stuff we used to do when we were kids?

You mean like the man-sized cardboard glider that flew like a rock, the underground fort, and the jailbreak games we used to play in your dad's kennel? I asked innocently. Or the time we locked Sandy Oakes up until she showed us her tits. I still don't know if she was embarrassed because she wasn't supposed to let boys see her or because she was so flat-chested.

He finished his drink with one gulp. The lights were low, but I thought he was blushing. Well, yeah. But I was thinking more about some of the things we used to do when we were a bit older . . . When we were alone together.

I remember it real well, I replied softly. We both enjoyed it.

Yeah, I know. Jeff seemed to be having trouble speaking. I always figured we'd just grow out of it. He wouldn't look me straight in the eye.

I never wanted to, I replied gently.

Oh yeah? He was suddenly looking at me very intently. He seemed to struggle a bit, then said, I think that was the problem between me and Carol. I didn't do anything . . . but I wanted to. And she knew it.

He sounded more decisive as he asked, You remember the contests we used to have with Ralph and Billy? I sure did. Your peter was always a lot bigger than mine. That was true. Of course, I was also a lot taller and weighed more than he did. I've grown a lot since the last time. I wonder who's the biggest now?

Well, there's an easy way to find out.

Jeff hesitated, but not for long. Yeah, I guess so. Who goes first?

Together. I got up and stood in front of Jeff's chair.

He glanced around, making sure all the drapes were drawn, then rose to join me. We watched each other closely. I went first with Jeff copying my every move: Unfasten our belt buckles and leave them dangling. Unzip our blue jeans and let them drop around our ankles. A long pause with our hands on the waistbands of our white jockey shorts, admiring each other's bulges, which were growing bigger by the second. Finally, a swift pulling of elastic away from our fronts and a push down to our thighs.

Jeff was still a few inches shorter and weighed less than me, but the outdoor work had hardened and swelled his muscles impressively. I was really glad for the long hours I'd spent working out.

We stood staring at each other for a long time. Jeff had grown a lot. In all areas. Now his dick was just as long and thick as mine. My already-tumescent pecker was rapidly becoming fully erect. Jeff was still following my lead. Within a few moments, both our cocks were standing tall and proud.

I dropped to my knees in front of Jeff and prepared to take his erection into my mouth.

No! Jeff tried to pull away.

My right hand was already wrapped around the base of his dick and cupping his balls. I held him in place as I looked up into his eyes. What's the matter? Do you think it's going to hurt you?

No, he replied after a moment. I want you to do it. His body was still rigid when I started sucking his cock, but he was soon breathing heavily and working his hips to thrust his stiff dick in and out of my mouth. He was getting close to coming when he suddenly pulled away. Let's go into the bedroom and do this right.

It didn't take long to strip and move to the bed. I straddled Jeff's chest and pushed my stiff prick toward his mouth. Now it's your turn. He only hesitated a second before he took my cock in his mouth and started licking and sucking. Jeff was inexperienced but eager and I was soon moaning with pleasure.

I wasn't ready to come, so I pulled my throbbing cock out of Jeff's mouth and rolled over to the side of the bed. Remember what we used to do?

Jeff stared at my rigid pole. That great big peter of yours would split my ass in half.

No, it won't, I replied. But if you're afraid, you can fuck me first.

For old times sake, I lay on my stomach while Jeff greased his stiff member and pushed it between my ass cheeks. It took him a few seconds to find the hole. Then, his cock slipped quickly and smoothly all the way up my eager chute.

He stopped with his balls pressing against my buttocks. Come on and fuck me good! I gasped. Your big hard peter isn't going to hurt me, no matter what you do with it.

Jeff took me at my word. It seemed like years of pent-up lust were driving his wild thrusts. After a short time, he started screaming. With each scream, he violently rammed the full length of his cock up my ass. With each thrust, I could feel another jet of hot cum spurting into me. Eventually, the spasms ended and he collapsed on top of me.

We lay there for a long time while our breathing and heartbeats returned to normal. Jeff's body was limp but his cock, only slightly softened, was still inside me. He finally pulled out and rolled over onto his tummy. He stuck his butt up in the air and looked at me over his shoulder. Just take it easy. Please.

No problem. I lubricated my finger and slipped it up Jeff's asshole. It went in easily, all the way to my curled knuckles. Hey! That wasn't bad, he said.

You'll be okay. I finger fucked Jeff's tight little man-pussy for a long time while reaching under his body to caress his cock and balls. At first, his anal muscles were extremely tense, but they gradually relaxed under my tender probing.

Finally, Jeff said Okay, go ahead and fuck me. Just go slow. I penetrated him slowly and gently. There was surprisingly little resistance and my dick was soon completely inside him.

Jeff's ass muscles gripped my shaft tightly as I carefully moved in and out. As he gradually relaxed, I fucked him faster and harder. He lifted his ass up in the air and I balanced on my hands and feet, doing pushups to work my cock inside his hot hole.

The cum was boiling in my balls when I stopped thrusting and pulled out. Don't stop, Jeff moaned into the pillow.

Turn over. I commanded. He lay on his back and folded his knees against his chest, lifting his muscular butt. Damn! You've got a sexy ass. I positioned my knob at the center of his pretty pucker and pressed forward, slipping smoothly back inside him.

Face to face, I nibbled Jeff's neck and tits while I plowed his ass. He still resisted when I tried to kiss him. I gripped his ankles like wheelbarrow handles and spread his legs wide, watching my cock sliding in and out of his body while Jeff stroked his dick in time with my thrusts.

White cream suddenly erupted from Jeff's straining pecker, splashing his chest and face, as I pounded his butt, shooting another hard hot pulse of cum with each rough thrust.

When we'd finally spent ourselves, I lowered myself onto Jeff's muscular chest. He wrapped his arms around my back and gripped my shoulders tightly. He whispered, I never felt anything as good as your big hard peter fucking my ass.

* * *

We fell asleep in each other's arms. When I woke up, it was bright daylight outside. Jeff was still asleep, snoring softly beside me. I bent over and kissed him full on the mouth.

Jeff stopped snoring and his eyelids flickered. His body stiffened slightly, but then relaxed again. He opened his mouth and our tongues met. He was shy for an instant, but quickly became bold, thrusting his tongue against mine.

Still kissing, I climbed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around me. Our cocks were already rock hard. He spread his legs and moved his butt to position his asshole invitingly against my cock head. I pulled away just long enough to get the lubricant from the nightstand and grease my peter.

As I entered him, I smiled down at Jeff and said, You sure kiss good, cowboy.

Comment

This story is a fantasy about how things might have been.

As I wrote in the Introduction, my first time was with my best friend Jeff. We were teenagers. I didn't know what to do, but he showed me. It's true that we never kissed. I think that was just too queer for us.

We drifted apart when we went to college. He was a cowboy and I was a freak. The two did not mix well at the University Of Wyoming. Later, I moved to Austin and he stayed in Cheyenne.

Jeff is now a somewhat prominent member of the Cheyenne community. When I'd go home to visit my parents, they'd tell me they ran into Jeff occasionally. He was interested in getting together with me, but it never worked out. I don't think anything sexual would have happened, but you never know . . .

I wrote the first version of Cowboys Don't Kiss for an Internet First Time collaboration. It's a straightforward—explicit—recounting of my first time with Jeff. Later, I added the imaginary encounter between Jeff and me as adults. This version omits the teenage scenes.

Love In The Rockies

College lust, love, and heartbreak

On my twenty-first birthday I made a solemn, very private vow. I would not be a virgin by my next birthday.

Although not handsome, I wasn't bad looking. I was 6'2" tall and weighed 180 pounds with blue eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. I wasn't an athlete, but I was in good shape.

My biggest problem was shyness. I'd been one of those skinny little kids with glasses who would rather read than hang out. I didn't do well at parties and I found it almost impossible to strike up conversations. I hadn't done much dating in high school. By the time I worked up the nerve to ask a girl out, she was already taken or wasn't interested.

It was 1972 and I was in my third year at the University of Wyoming in Laramie, Wyoming's only four-year college. I'd changed my major from Engineering to Computer Science, which gave me this wonderful thing called free time. I became friends with Bob and Rich, who lived next door in the dorm. They introduced me to marijuana.

Theatre had always been one of my big interests, so I took theater courses for my required English and Humanities credits. I worked on a number of plays and, with my