7th Street Cowboy (Chp 1)
#1 of 7th Street Cowboy
The hot iron of the wolf's automatic fit snuggly into Jake's gloved paw. The rain came down like the hail of bullets that came earlier, and as the lead downpour cleansed the streets of another life, the rain cleans up the bloodstains. A red swirl pools around a sewer grating not far away from the wolf whose quickly losing consciousness. Jake reached into his coat, fumbling through his packet of cigarettes for one that wasn't too wet, not that it'll be any more dry when it's smoked. The squirrel flicked his tail idly, starting back down the street, dropping the pistol. It's cleaner to leave the murder weapon at the scene of the crime, especially when it can't be traced to you.
Jake had plenty of time to go over his 'sins' en route to his car. Arguably, the wolf did strike first, both against him and his client. The police obviously wouldn't look into the original crime; the police tend to not care when the Sheriff is beating his wife. All the squirrel could do now is head off to another city. He doesn't have to confirm the death to his client, she'll see it in the news a few hours from now when she gets home from her church club meeting, where there are plenty of witnesses to say where she was. Besides, the payment of sex (her request), $250 (for gas), and a good home cooked meal isn't much to trace.
Maybe that'll be the last one, Jake would always try to say that to himself, that the blood will stop flowing, and he'll be able to hang up gunplay. But there's always another needy person, desperate to get rid of that itch they can't touch.
The highway was coming up, another checkpoint coming soon. The stench of hydraulic lubrication mixed with rain filled the squirrel's nostrils as he caught sight of one of the police mecha, a huge quadruped walker that looks reminiscent of a giant cookie jar, if it wasn't for that 6 terawatt laser cannon positioned between the four legs like a giant cock ready to piss a light ray of death.
Jake slowed down his car, rolling down the window despite the rain as the officer approached the car. The kid was probably just out of the academy, with the way he fondled his sidearm in his holster; he was obviously a virgin with it. The squirrel played it cool, giving a slightly annoyed face, like anyone who would be stuck in a blockade. "Can I help you, Officer?"
"Just checking to make sure nothing illegal gets out. Mind stepping out of the car?"
Jake mentally cursed, but thought it better than to argue, as that pimpled twit seemed more than ready to burst his bloody cherry. Jake got out as the officer leaned over to look over the insides. Glove compartment and passenger side seat were adequately messy for a car ridden by one person. The kid moved to the trunk, opening it and finding two shotguns, a double barrel breechloader and a pump action, both regulation lengths. Jake flipped his license to carry them, but didn't let the officer get too close a look; he didn't want his name associated with this checkpoint.
The rookie fumbled with his hip pocket, Jake could barely make out the scent of coke that he held there, just for planting purposes, and the squirrel held his breath. The officer thought better of it, considering the owner of the car is watching him like a hawk. "Right, you can go, sir." Jake nodded and got back into his car, making his way back onto the highway. The rain covering the sweat on his nose as his heart started to beat fast after he was done, which is usual for him, he keeps his anxiety to himself until the problem is over. The headlights of other cars on the road kept Jake awake as he drove through the night, heading home.
He could never escape this descent into destiny. He had been branded as the 7th Street Cowboy, and that's who he'll remain.
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Jake chugged the last of his coffee, cold and bitter as it gets after a few hundred miles, but at least it had caffeine. He finally pulled into the neighbourhood where he lived, feeling relaxed for once after this hellish week. He pulled into his driveway, and got out, letting his bones stretch after staying cooped up for the last 300 miles. His tail flicked idly around as his bare feet touched the floor. He made his way into his modest condo, fumbling with his keys, the adrenaline leaving his body making his hands tremble. "Honey, I'm home." He gives a low call.
"You look like shit," the badger smiled down at the squirrel, bringing him into a hug.
"Heh, love you too, Pete." Jake smirked as he hugged his partner back, feeling his strong sides. They kept like that for a number of minutes, letting the gunner relax a little more. Finally they broke off as Jake went into the bathroom and Pete into the kitchen.
"Still hurts, doesn't it?" Pete asked as he started to cut up an onion.
"Every time, love. Every time." Jake relieved himself, and then went to wash his paws and splash his face with some fresh, cool water.
"Then why do it?" Pete asked, preparing a small sandwich for his lover, sitting in the living room, "It's obviously not for the money, nor the pleasure, thankfully." Jake came out of the bathroom, sighing and shaking his head.
"No, it isn't. I'm not sure what it is 'for' if anything." He sighs, sitting next to the mustalid, leaning against the bigger fur, "except I feel sorry for those people that get screwed over by things bigger than they are."
Peter smirked a little, snuggling Jake, "Well, you don't seem to mind getting screwed by something bigger than you are." Jake could only smile back, stroking along Pete's chest.
"Mmm... I suppose you're right." The squirrel grinned a little as he slowly slouched off his leather jacket, letting it join with his forgotten, untouched sandwich. They kissed softly at first, just grazing each other's lips with their own, hugging closely. Jake started to breathe faster as he licked along Pete's neck, running his paws under the badger's shirt, stroking his slightly pudgy belly and chest. The heady scent of the badger's arousal filled the air as they disengaged for only a moment to slide out of their coverings and retreat to the bedroom. Jake's paw slowly moved to Pete's sheath, fondling the heavy fold of fur. The badger groans lightly as his cock started to push out into the open air, leaking the clear fluid of his desire. Jake smiles more, kissing his lover's chest, feeling his strong muscles as he lowered his head to the red growing spire.
Pete laid on the bed as still as he can as the squirrel worked on his shaft. A few slow runs of his tongue caused the badger to squirm in bliss as he tried his best to not thrust into Jake's unready mouth. Gentle, wet laps over Pete's shaft was only the beginning as Jake opened his mouth to take in the thickness. Pete was breathing hard as well at this time, moving his hands down to caress and fondle the squirrel's small ears, his legs splayed wide for Jake. More and more bitter fluid met Jake's tongue making the squirrel give a happy groan as well. Pete couldn't hold it much longer as he held back a firm thrust, letting his seed flow out of him and into his lover's waiting mouth, which Jake lapped up and swallowed greedily, enjoying the bitter, salty taste of the thick creame his lover gave him.
Jake got up slowly, wiping his lips as he reached into the dresser drawer, getting a condom and a bottle of lube. Pete only smiled as he lifted his hips for the squirrel. Jake got a pawful of the slimy goo and rubbed it over the badger's anus, both males giving shy, longing glances. Jake then eased the rubber over his erection before applying a similar coating of the cool gel. "Mmmm, ready, Peter?"
"I think as well as I'll get." Pete chuckled as Jake slid forward, pressing the wet tip against the opening, then easing himself inside of his lover, as he let out a loud groan. Both furs tensed up for a moment at that initial penetration, enjoying the sensation of 'connecting' after so long. Pete started to press back when he was ready, and Jake complied, returning the push. The badger grumbled happily at the full feeling of a warm cock inside of his body. Jake pistoned his hips gently at first, enjoying the tightness made from absence, but soon started a moderate, firm pace. Pete's hands gripped Jake's hips, squeezing them needfully, wanting him inside of his body more and more as the rubbered tip grinded against his prostrate. Jake sped up more with Pete's inaudible cry, feeling his own need grow. His scrotum slapped against Pete's rump quietly as the sound of hips and groin crashing into each other grew in intensity. Jake shuddered and let out the contents of his lungs in a silent scream as he started to fill up the condom with his seed. Both furs shuddering against each other, kissing each other's lips and cheeks. Jake's shaft slipped from Pete's rectum as it became soft. Jake took off the rubber sheath and tossed it in the nearby waste-bin. They held each other for long moments, closing their eyes and falling asleep together.
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The alarm clock rang early, or at least Jake thought it did, he was up later than he thought. Pete had already left, off to teach English to a bunch of highschoolers. It is almost sick how the two are different, but at the same time, it's common knowledge what they say about opposites. Jake picked up his coat and fished out his still moist cigarettes, going outside before lighting it up. Pete wished he quit, but at least Jake kept the sense to heed his lover's request to keep outside.
He sat down on an old, rickety wooden swing chair, looking out at the sunrise. His paw moved to scratch at his boxers idly, looking at the cars passing by, heading off to work. He knew he'd hear about the murder on the television today, but decided to just not watch, he'd never been proud of what he did, but always had a feeling that he had to. The squirrel went back inside when the cigarette was done, ready to go online to see if there's anyone else out there that could use his help. Such is the life of the 7th Street cowboy.