Up the Backstretch

Charge Account entered the last furlong still moving at a good clip. Ray Gandanza lay low across the bay colt’s neck, his butt, encased in tight jeans, hanging up in the air as he hand rode my colt, knowing I wanted to see some speed at the end. I wanted to know how much Charge Account had left after his two mile workout.

Apparently a lot. The colt’s ears went back when Ray stood in the irons after passing the eighth furlong pole. He didn’t want to stop running. Good. If he still had it in him now, maybe he’d still have it in him when he hit the last stretch of the Derby he was running in less than five days.

Charge Account was my first Derby colt. My training record was good, but I’d never had anything in my stable I thought stood a chance to bring home the roses. I wasn’t one of these owners/trainers who’d nominate a dog just to say they’d run in the Kentucky Derby. I wanted any horse of mine who made the attempt to stand a chance.

Charge Account looked good for it.

Ray Gandanza looked better.

He could have been riding almost anything that was stabled at the famous Louisville track, up to and including Lucky Dog, the odds on favorite to win this Saturday. But he’d stuck it out with me, and sometimes I wondered why.

It wasn’t because he approved of me. He’d made his dislike obvious from the start.

 But he believed in Charge Account, and for that he had stayed on as my rider.

Ray swung Charge Account around and trotted back towards me. Kicking his muscular legs out of the stirrups he barely waited for me to grab the colt’s bridle before he swung down, landing with a thud beside me on the dusty track.

“I do like you say,” Ray said in his accented English. “He run good.”

“He ran that last five furlongs in fifty-nine even.” I grinned at his dust-covered face. “Keep it up, and you’re going to take him right to the winner’s circle on Saturday.”

I slapped Charge Account’s damp withers. Ray fell into step beside me so close I could smell his earthy scent, closing my eyes at the sudden constriction in my chest. Damn, but this guy did things to me that no one else ever had.

Ray looked at me sideways. “You really think he win?”

I scowled at him. “You don’t?”

Suddenly Ray grinned and my basket swelled in response.  I knew it was a foolhardy reaction, and if he ever suspected what I felt I’d lose him in a Belmont minute, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to wrap my hole around his cock and have him ride me with all the power I’d seen him use on my horses. The man had an ass, even covered in denim like today, that inspired thoughts that left me rock hard and shaking. If I didn’t quit it, I’d be in the shower soon, jacking off with visions of his bronze butt filling my mind with dreams of being fucked by him. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But it wasn’t going to happen. Not in this life time. The guy was married, with three kids and a plump Cuban wife. The only thing he felt for his thirty-something trainer was a mild contempt.

He left me to take a shower while I got a groom to walk Charge Account out and put him away for the night. Then I headed for my onsite trailer to do some paperwork and microwave up a horseman’s supper - Swanson’s turkey surprise with smashed potatoes.

After that gourmet repast I took a stroll to the barns to check on Charge Account before I hit the sack. He was resting easily, his back to the door. He barely swivelled one ear around to acknowledge my presence.

The sound came from our tackroom two stalls down from Charge Account’s stall. I shoved the heavy curtain aside and found myself staring into the angry, red-rimmed eyes of my star jockey.

“Ray? What the-”

“Is nothing. Go away,” he snarled.

I actually took a step back from his fury, but not before seeing the paper balled up in his fist. It was covered in writing, and from where I stood I could see it was Spanish.

I shut the curtain behind me and put my hand on his arm. He was as rigid as stone, every muscle in his lean body tight.

“What’s wrong, Ray?”

He glared at me then looked away. “She has taken my children and gone. She say she does not want to be married anymore.”

“Your wife?”

He stared at the crumpled paper in his big fist. Christ, her timing couldn’t have been worse. Less than a week till the big race and she dumps him.

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Ray.” I didn’t want to say it, but I had to know. “Will you go after her?”

“Estupido.” He flung the letter at me. It fluttered to the floor between us. “Yo no perseguiré a la bruja.”

I knew enough Spanish to know bruja meant witch.

“But she’s your wife.”

“She has not been my wife for many years.”

“But she followed you to all the races. You told me you had that trailer custom built for her and the kids-” I froze at his look. “She took the trailer?”

“Bruja,” he muttered.

“Where are you staying, then?”

He looked at me sharply then shrugged. “I will get a room.”

“This close to Derby Day? You gotta be joking.” I should have kept my mouth shut. “You could stay at my place. I’ve got a couch-”

This time the look he gave me was pure poison. Like he thought I was trying to take advantage of him. Latin men and their pride. I thought he was going to take a swing at me. Instead he muttered something in Spanish I did not want translated and stamped out of the narrow, tack-filled room.

I gave him plenty of time to get away before I slunk back to my trailer. I grabbed a beer and drank it down in the hopes it would help me sleep. It must have worked because when the pounding started on my door it was the middle of the night and I was sound asleep.

It was Ray.

He pushed past me way and stalked into the front room.

“I thank you for your offer, Senor Jake,” he said, without meeting my gaze. “I will accept for this night. Tomorrow I will find a proper place to sleep.”

I showed him the couch and helped him pull it out into a makeshift bed, found sheets and an extra pillow for him then stumbled off to my own bed.

A noise awoke me. I rolled over and found Ray standing at the foot of my bed, his dark eyes staring at me without expression.

“You are maricone?” he said. “Homosexual?”

“I’m gay,” I said cautiously, not sure where this was headed. “I assume that’s what you mean.”

“Always?”

“Er, if you mean have I always been gay, then yes, I guess. At least I knew when I was very young that I was attracted to men.”

“This doesn’t bother you?”

“No. Does it bother you?”

“It is wrong.”

I sat up in bed, letting the sheets pool in my lap. “I disagree. It’s simply one of the things I am. Just like my eyes are brown and I’m a damned good horse trainer.”

He dismissed my words with a snort. “In Cuba such a one as you would be taken to the UMAP camps. They would make a man out of you any way they could.” He looked away from me. “I did not give in to these desires. I was strong.”

I stared at him. Belatedly I realized that he wore only sweat pants and I was in my underwear, with a raging hard-on that was blindingly obvious under the thin sheets barely covering me. He was starting down at the bulge in my lap and I could have sworn his dark eyes got a whole lot darker. He licked his lips, his pink tongue coming out to sweep over his full mouth. I got even harder.

He hadn’t really said what I thought he’d said. Had he?

“Ray-”

Before I could make sense of his words or find any of my own, he spun around and stormed out. I scrambled out of bed and followed him.

I found him dragging on a T-shirt and trying to pull on riding boots. I grabbed his arm.

“Ray. What are you running from? Me or you?”

He jerked away and tried to work one boot over his bare foot. The effort wasn’t meeting with much success.

He turned away but not before I saw he had a hard-on that matched mine. I dropped my hand from his arm staring at his cock straining at the material of his sweats.

“I’m sorry your wife left you. But I’m not sorry for what I am. And I’m sure as hell not sorry for finding you sexy as hell, or wanting you in the worst way-”

He swung around, one boot still clutched in his fist, his face a mask of rage.

“How can I want you? I have been a man all my life. It is not right that I want another man that way.”

It wasn’t fair, I know. Maybe it was taking advantage of him, maybe I should have let him walk out, his beliefs intact. But I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him at that moment. I touched his hip, feeling his tension and his need vibrate through his hard, young body.

“What do you want, Ray?” I stepped closer, my hand smoothing the fabric of his T-shirt over his rock hard chest. I brushed one of his nipples, it swelled and pushed against my fingers. I wanted to taste him. “Do you want to know what it feels like to be touched by someone who finds you very sexy? Someone who thinks you are more desirable than words can say?”

I slid my hand along his jaw, brushing his mouth with my fingertips. He parted his lips as though breathing had suddenly grown difficult. His pupils were dilated and brilliant black.

“Do you really think that something that feels this good can be wrong?” I leaned in and before he could pull away I slipped my mouth over his.

When my tongue came out to probe his lips, his mouth was still open. He gasped and his hand came up, but instead of pushing me away he grabbed my shoulder with both hands and clung to me. I slid my tongue between his parted lips.

He tasted like ambrosia. Dark Cuban honey. He groaned and his fingers clamped down on my muscles, pulling me closer. I didn’t need any more invitation than that. I closed the distance between us and pressed my body full-length against his. Our sweat-slicked chests slid together, the silken heat of our bodies straining to get closer. Our cocks were caught between us. It was my turn to moan.

I was desperate to feel all of his bronze skin against mine. I circled the tight mounds of his ass with both hands and pulled him against me, then slipped my hands down his sweat pants and nearly came when he did the same. We rocked against each other, then shoving his pants down around his ankles I dropped to my knees and buried my nose in his dark pubes. He tasted faintly of sweat and horses and something that was uniquely Ray. My tongue circled his belly, feeling his muscles convulse under my wet heat, while I girdled the fat mushroom-shaped head of his cock with my fingers and shoved back his uncut foreskin. I wrapped my hand around him and used the steady stream of his liquid essence as lubrication.

His fingers tangled in my short hair and he rocked against me, fucking my fist with a steady, mounting rhythm. I climbed his body with my mouth, until I wrapped my lips around his left nipple. I scraped my teeth lightly over the hard nubbin of flesh. His moans grew in intensity as his body reached for release. But I didn’t want it to end like this. I had dreamed of this moment too long. I wanted Ray Gandanza inside me. I wanted his hot, sweaty body riding mine when he came.

I pulled away, grabbing his hands when they reached for me.

“No,” he groaned.

I stood up and led him into my bedroom. Without turning on the light I fumbled through my bed side desk and found the lube and condoms I kept there. I sank onto the bed and guided him down on top of me.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I said and unrolled the condom over his rigid cock. I liberally smeared it with lube. “I want you to fuck my ass.”

“Jake-”

“Fuck me, Ray. Come inside me.”

He pushed my legs up over his shoulders and we both guided his cock up to the entrance to my back door. I bit my lip as his fat mushroom shaped head pierced the ring of muscle guarding my hole. Then he popped inside with an audible grunt and stopped, poised above me on his powerful arms.

He stared down at me and a look of indescribable wonder crossed his handsome face.

“Jake.”

“Oh baby, don’t stop now. Oh God, don’t stop-”

I rolled my head back and circled the round flesh of his butt with both hands. He sank into me. Then he drew back out, slowly, only to plunge into me again. He repeated the action with exquisite slowness, dragging his cock over my prostate, wringing moans of pleasure from me. I wrapped my legs around his sweating, straining back and we moved together in a rhythm that quickly grew in intensity. His cock thickened and filled me. I skimmed his back then reached for his ass again, my hands tightening on those glorious mounds. I pulled him deeper into me. With a wordless, guttural cry he slammed his mouth over mine; our tongues tangled. He swallowed my moans, fucking my mouth with his even as he plowed my ass.

My orgasm came on and I knew I couldn’t hold it any longer. I ground my hips against him, whimpering my need. He reached down and grabbed me, his fist closing over my pumping cock. I cried out, biting the skin above his throat and thrust myself into his hand.

I came, shooting white streamers of cum across my stomach and his, pouring through his fist.

He exploded inside me. His spine arched in a rigid bow as he drove himself deeper into my bowels where he poured his cum into the thin latex shield.

When he collapsed on top of me I held him in my arms and pressed moist kisses up and down his face, finally settling on his open mouth.

“Wow.”

“Increíble,” he whispered. His lips brushed my throat.

“You sure you want to leave tomorrow?” I said. I walked my fingers up his smooth, hairless chest. “The race is only four days away. If you stay we can talk strategy, figure out how you’re going to beat all those other jockeys on Saturday.”

The rumble of his laughter rolled across me. I grinned up at him.

“Or we could just stay in bed and fuck like bunnies.”

“You are funny, Jake.” He sighed and lay his dark head on my shoulder, one hand resting possessively on my butt. “But I think I will stay a while. At least until after the race.”

I smiled and held him close. At least until after we bring home the roses.

After that, well, we’d see, wouldn’t we.

Pat Brown

http://www.pabrown.ca/

L.A. Heat, the first Chris and David mystery