The hostler was all grins and giggles.“I see you deceased the local bad guys,” he said. “What can I do for you?”“Wanna buy these horses?” ... said. “I wanna sell.”“Got plenty,” he said.I looked at the dozen or so empty stalls. The floors were swept but the place smelled of old occupants, stale piss and dusty straw.“They’re out,” he lied. Straight faced, too.“Well ... I’ll be moving along, then.” I said. “The next town might be more hospitable ... and need horses such as these ... with tack.”“Hold. .."I was turned facing the door fully exposed if anyone happened upon us. Jason laughed, and pulled me into one of the stalls, shutting and locking the door. Smiling, he unzipped his jeans, "Stroke it."I reached into his pants, and wrapped my hand around his cock. It was not huge. No real long, but nice, and it was pretty thick. I grinned as I thought about his dick buried between my legs, and I started to stroke him slowly up and down. His hands were at my shoulders, slipping the straps of my. More

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