FOX
Fox, August 2016.
When he entered my room I have to admit I recoiled at first. He was clearly a traveler, one who just arrived from a long long trip. He was wearing a heavy coat, furs hanging from the shoulders, a scarf around his neck and a huge hat covering his head, everything dirty, stained with many colors.
He turned to close the door, lowering his head and pulling his hat off gently. I could see the green stains from grass and other plants on the back of his coat. The kind of man who sleeps on his back under the stars. That somewhat softened my heart; made me remember when I used to sleep under the stars covered by the wind and the smell of creosote bushes after the rain.
“Can I help you with your coat?” I stepped forward and held the thick collar of the garment. I could feel the furs on my forearms, soft, tickling my skin.
“Thank you.” His voice was low and gruff, as if he wasn't used to speak often. He hanged his hat on the hook besides the door, then I pulled the coat. He stretched his back and moved his shoulders so I could slide the coat down his arms. Under the coat his clothes were dirty, but fit him perfectly. He wore a short jacket, of a deep blue and tight gray riding pants, long black boots up to his knees. I can see the pistols hanging, the crossed belts holding the holsters low on his hips.
I placed the coat besides the hat and watched as he started working on the belts, still with his back turned to me. I couldn't help noticing his hair was gray, short, perfectly cut; it was just dirty. That meant he was a man of good manners, who cared for his appearance; probably just a traveller, not a bandit, an outlaw. A common man in need of rest and relaxation.
I stepped back as he hung his belt on the wall and locked the door. That made me a bit nervous, made me take another step back.
“If I leave the door open someone could steal my things when I'm... Distracted.” He moved his hand to indicate his jacket and the pistols.
“You can use the chair beside the bed...” I pointed at the chair. He looked hurt for a moment; he realized I was afraid of him. That only was enough for me to take a risk. “If you want. It's all right.”
He grunted and nodded, his expression softening. He stepped towards me and I took the time to actually register his appearance. I don't usually pay attention to my customers, but I have to admit this man is scary and interesting, in equal parts.
“Would you like a bath? I can draw one for you.”
“'m sorry, ma'am.” He rubbed his bearded chin and looked down himself. “I know I'm not proper, just came from a cattle drive. I haven't seen a lady in months... But I don't have much money.”
“Don't worry, cowboy. This is my room, I make the rules. Won't charge you any more.”
“I would love a bath, ma'am. Thank you very much.”
It didn't take long to get the copper bathtub filled, with the help of the boys. The Cowboy waits besides it, uncomfortably shifting around; he wants to help. He isn't used to people doing things for him. It makes me like him. When the tub is full, I lock the door myself. He smiles.
I helped him take off his clothes. He isn't young, but his body is still beautiful. Tall, large, his chest covered with light gray hair; he was toned, firm, the kind of man who was hard because of hard work, not because of some ridiculous vanity.
I help him into the tub, then I take my clothes off under his attentive gaze.
“You're beautiful, ma'am.” He says softly and extends his hand to me in invitation. I get into the tub and sit facing him, my legs over his. He smiles and holds my ankle. For some reason the smile looks out of place in his face; he didn't look like a man who was used to pleasure, to smiling, and it showed. “You must have been on your feet all day... Maybe I can help you feel better too.”
His hands on my feet felt perfect; I sighed as his thumbs dig into the sole of my foot. I took the time to watch his face, I wanted to be able to remember him. His eyes were small, deep into his face; his iris were of a deep dark green, small pupils. The eyebrows were thick and low on his face, close to his eyes; he looks like he has a perpetual frown. His chin is large and wide, his lips thin, his mouth wide. His nose wasn't long or particularly big.
It wasn't a beautiful, even harmonic combination, but it was enticing in a way. Especially his eyes. The cowboy looked at me with deep desire, with a need so big it showed even in the small movements of his hands over my foot.
The cowboy sighed softly, his body relaxing as I rubbed my feet along his thighs, then delicately over his cock. I straddled his thighs, soap and washcloth on my hands, and started rubbing his shoulders. He watched me cleaning his body with half lidded eyes and a light smile.
“Thank you, ma'am. I can only imagine how terrible it is to attend to us, dirty brutes, stinking of alcohol and god knows what. Wish I could take a bath before coming, but I am in dire need of some company.”
His hands slid up over my thighs towards my ass, then hugged my waist and pulled me down against his hips. I could feel his cock, long and hard against my pussy and my thighs. He kissed my neck, then hugged my waist, standing up. I felt like a toy in his arms.
“Whoa, cowboy!” I yelped. He lifted me up and carried me to bed; his body was warm, I could even describe it as feverish.
“Hold on, ma'am.” What came from him was more like a growl than words. “Can't wait anymore.”
It all happened fast. He took me to the bed and climbed over me; I wrapped my legs around him, chuckling. He stopped for a moment, eyes focused on mine and then lowered his body, thrusting forward. I felt his cock slipping against my pussy, between my lower lips, brushing against my clit.
His eyes fluttered close and he gasped. I raised myself on my elbows and bit his lower lip, moaning. He pushed me back against the bed and lowered his upper body against mine. He kissed me, deeply, for a long long while. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, fingers burying themselves in my hair. I felt his hand on my hip, grabbing, positioning me to feel the lenght of his cock as he rubbed himself on me.
I grabbed his shoulders, then his hair. I could feel the wetness between our bodies, sweat, water, fluids mixing with our thrusts. He moaned and shifted his hips; I felt the head of his cock pressing against my opening. My eyes rolled back and I pushed myself against him with a whimper. I wanted, no, I needed him inside me.
The cowboy grunted and pushed back. I felt his cock sliding into me, slowly; he was making an effort not to hurt me. I could feel his whole body tensing, like a beast ready to strike. He closed his eyes and nuzzled my cheek, my ear.
“Ma'am... 'm sorry, ma'am... I can't hold on anymore.” His arms locked around me like a vise, crushing his body against mine. “You feel like paradise...”
His lips brushed along my neck as he thrusted, he kissed and grunted against my skin, his thrusts hard and deep. I held onto him as he moved, trying to brace myself against the force of his desire.
I wanted to hold on, to last longer, but the clock on the nightstand informed the hour was almost over. I held him tight against me and came; eyes closed, I wanted that moment to last forever.
He left the room right after the deed was done. I still had five minutes to collect myself. I reached under the bed for my own clothes and got dressed, the whole wild west scenery fading around me, leaving just a generic bed and a bathtub. I threw some of the water on my face and went to the reception, still sorting what had just happened.
“How was your fantasy, Mrs...”
“Fine. Look, I wanna buy him.” I extended my credit card to the receptionist, a bit surprised with my own haste. It made sense. There was a reason for that. “Let me talk to the manager.”
The lady nodded and pressed the intercom. A few hushed whispers, and I was lead to the manager's room.
“How are you, dear?” The Manager was a good friend of mine, from older times. We shook hands and I sat on the other side of his desk. “I hear you wanna buy the piece you used today.”
“Pretty much. Is it possible?” I crossed my legs and placed one hand on my lap. He looked curious. I wondered what he was going to ask.
“Yes. This isn't our usual policy, but... I can open an exception for you. At least with this piece.” The Manager watched my puzzled face and chuckled. “It's an old piece, his better days are behind him, to be honest. His model isn't even manufactured anymore... He was about to be retired. You know, I was kind of expecting this... You asking me to buy one of the pieces, I mean. I just didn't expect it to be an old beaten up model. Do you mind telling me why?”
“Well... I've been using your services for years. The pieces are nice, the new holorooms are interesting... But this one... I don't know. I feel like I found what I have been looking for all these years.”
“Well. Ok.” He scratched his head. “I don't know, I kinda expected you to go for a pretty boy.”
“I never liked your pretty boys. They were nice, but...” I laughed and shrugged.
“Do you wanna take him with you, now?”
“Yeah.”
“I'll have the room service clean and dress him, if you don't mind waiting.”
“Not at all.”
I watched as the manager grabbed the phone and whispered a few orders. He also organized the documents. With a sigh, I watched the tips of my boots.
“Does he have a name?” I ask, once the Manager settles again on his chair.
“He calls himself Fox. I don't know why, really... We don't name the pieces, but we don't mind when they...”
“Develop some personality? That's a bit dangerous. Especially in their line of work. Well, I can't complain, it got me this piece.”
“So you're not buying him for his looks.”
“No.” I watch my nails. “I'm not.”
“The reason you're buying them is the the same reason we don't wipe them. That's the whole catch of our business. If they are just mechanical lovers, we have no clients. Believe me; been there, done that.”
“I see.” I think of what he said and I have to admit he's right. I've been to many houses in the city. This is the best one, these are the best pieces. The holorooms are a nice touch on the whole 'we bring your wildest fantasies to life' business, but the pieces are damn near perfect.
“Look...” The Manager organizes the documents on the desk. “Few tips. His beard and hair are hard to keep. You gotta be careful. This is a really old model, if you need help with the maintenance, we have a whiz kid here who can help. I know you do your own stuff, but you may need help. He's all custom, he was made exactly for a western setting, so if you need something for his appearance, you gotta get in contact with the maker. He's expensive to maintain.”
The door opens and one of the staff brings Fox into the room. His hair is still wet, he's wearing a simple pair of jeans and a button down shirt.
“So I'm going with you, ma'am? You takin' me home?” He says softly.
“Yeah. Let's go.” I stand up and move to his side. I hold his hand and look back to the Manager, who is smiling at us.
“If you need anything you call me.” The Manager says as we leave. “Hope you come visit!”
I don't really think I will.
When he entered my room I have to admit I recoiled at first. He was clearly a traveler, one who just arrived from a long long trip. He was wearing a heavy coat, furs hanging from the shoulders, a scarf around his neck and a huge hat covering his head, everything dirty, stained with many colors.
He turned to close the door, lowering his head and pulling his hat off gently. I could see the green stains from grass and other plants on the back of his coat. The kind of man who sleeps on his back under the stars. That somewhat softened my heart; made me remember when I used to sleep under the stars covered by the wind and the smell of creosote bushes after the rain.
“Can I help you with your coat?” I stepped forward and held the thick collar of the garment. I could feel the furs on my forearms, soft, tickling my skin.
“Thank you.” His voice was low and gruff, as if he wasn't used to speak often. He hanged his hat on the hook besides the door, then I pulled the coat. He stretched his back and moved his shoulders so I could slide the coat down his arms. Under the coat his clothes were dirty, but fit him perfectly. He wore a short jacket, of a deep blue and tight gray riding pants, long black boots up to his knees. I can see the pistols hanging, the crossed belts holding the holsters low on his hips.
I placed the coat besides the hat and watched as he started working on the belts, still with his back turned to me. I couldn't help noticing his hair was gray, short, perfectly cut; it was just dirty. That meant he was a man of good manners, who cared for his appearance; probably just a traveller, not a bandit, an outlaw. A common man in need of rest and relaxation.
I stepped back as he hung his belt on the wall and locked the door. That made me a bit nervous, made me take another step back.
“If I leave the door open someone could steal my things when I'm... Distracted.” He moved his hand to indicate his jacket and the pistols.
“You can use the chair beside the bed...” I pointed at the chair. He looked hurt for a moment; he realized I was afraid of him. That only was enough for me to take a risk. “If you want. It's all right.”
He grunted and nodded, his expression softening. He stepped towards me and I took the time to actually register his appearance. I don't usually pay attention to my customers, but I have to admit this man is scary and interesting, in equal parts.
“Would you like a bath? I can draw one for you.”
“'m sorry, ma'am.” He rubbed his bearded chin and looked down himself. “I know I'm not proper, just came from a cattle drive. I haven't seen a lady in months... But I don't have much money.”
“Don't worry, cowboy. This is my room, I make the rules. Won't charge you any more.”
“I would love a bath, ma'am. Thank you very much.”
It didn't take long to get the copper bathtub filled, with the help of the boys. The Cowboy waits besides it, uncomfortably shifting around; he wants to help. He isn't used to people doing things for him. It makes me like him. When the tub is full, I lock the door myself. He smiles.
I helped him take off his clothes. He isn't young, but his body is still beautiful. Tall, large, his chest covered with light gray hair; he was toned, firm, the kind of man who was hard because of hard work, not because of some ridiculous vanity.
I help him into the tub, then I take my clothes off under his attentive gaze.
“You're beautiful, ma'am.” He says softly and extends his hand to me in invitation. I get into the tub and sit facing him, my legs over his. He smiles and holds my ankle. For some reason the smile looks out of place in his face; he didn't look like a man who was used to pleasure, to smiling, and it showed. “You must have been on your feet all day... Maybe I can help you feel better too.”
His hands on my feet felt perfect; I sighed as his thumbs dig into the sole of my foot. I took the time to watch his face, I wanted to be able to remember him. His eyes were small, deep into his face; his iris were of a deep dark green, small pupils. The eyebrows were thick and low on his face, close to his eyes; he looks like he has a perpetual frown. His chin is large and wide, his lips thin, his mouth wide. His nose wasn't long or particularly big.
It wasn't a beautiful, even harmonic combination, but it was enticing in a way. Especially his eyes. The cowboy looked at me with deep desire, with a need so big it showed even in the small movements of his hands over my foot.
The cowboy sighed softly, his body relaxing as I rubbed my feet along his thighs, then delicately over his cock. I straddled his thighs, soap and washcloth on my hands, and started rubbing his shoulders. He watched me cleaning his body with half lidded eyes and a light smile.
“Thank you, ma'am. I can only imagine how terrible it is to attend to us, dirty brutes, stinking of alcohol and god knows what. Wish I could take a bath before coming, but I am in dire need of some company.”
His hands slid up over my thighs towards my ass, then hugged my waist and pulled me down against his hips. I could feel his cock, long and hard against my pussy and my thighs. He kissed my neck, then hugged my waist, standing up. I felt like a toy in his arms.
“Whoa, cowboy!” I yelped. He lifted me up and carried me to bed; his body was warm, I could even describe it as feverish.
“Hold on, ma'am.” What came from him was more like a growl than words. “Can't wait anymore.”
It all happened fast. He took me to the bed and climbed over me; I wrapped my legs around him, chuckling. He stopped for a moment, eyes focused on mine and then lowered his body, thrusting forward. I felt his cock slipping against my pussy, between my lower lips, brushing against my clit.
His eyes fluttered close and he gasped. I raised myself on my elbows and bit his lower lip, moaning. He pushed me back against the bed and lowered his upper body against mine. He kissed me, deeply, for a long long while. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, fingers burying themselves in my hair. I felt his hand on my hip, grabbing, positioning me to feel the lenght of his cock as he rubbed himself on me.
I grabbed his shoulders, then his hair. I could feel the wetness between our bodies, sweat, water, fluids mixing with our thrusts. He moaned and shifted his hips; I felt the head of his cock pressing against my opening. My eyes rolled back and I pushed myself against him with a whimper. I wanted, no, I needed him inside me.
The cowboy grunted and pushed back. I felt his cock sliding into me, slowly; he was making an effort not to hurt me. I could feel his whole body tensing, like a beast ready to strike. He closed his eyes and nuzzled my cheek, my ear.
“Ma'am... 'm sorry, ma'am... I can't hold on anymore.” His arms locked around me like a vise, crushing his body against mine. “You feel like paradise...”
His lips brushed along my neck as he thrusted, he kissed and grunted against my skin, his thrusts hard and deep. I held onto him as he moved, trying to brace myself against the force of his desire.
I wanted to hold on, to last longer, but the clock on the nightstand informed the hour was almost over. I held him tight against me and came; eyes closed, I wanted that moment to last forever.
He left the room right after the deed was done. I still had five minutes to collect myself. I reached under the bed for my own clothes and got dressed, the whole wild west scenery fading around me, leaving just a generic bed and a bathtub. I threw some of the water on my face and went to the reception, still sorting what had just happened.
“How was your fantasy, Mrs...”
“Fine. Look, I wanna buy him.” I extended my credit card to the receptionist, a bit surprised with my own haste. It made sense. There was a reason for that. “Let me talk to the manager.”
The lady nodded and pressed the intercom. A few hushed whispers, and I was lead to the manager's room.
“How are you, dear?” The Manager was a good friend of mine, from older times. We shook hands and I sat on the other side of his desk. “I hear you wanna buy the piece you used today.”
“Pretty much. Is it possible?” I crossed my legs and placed one hand on my lap. He looked curious. I wondered what he was going to ask.
“Yes. This isn't our usual policy, but... I can open an exception for you. At least with this piece.” The Manager watched my puzzled face and chuckled. “It's an old piece, his better days are behind him, to be honest. His model isn't even manufactured anymore... He was about to be retired. You know, I was kind of expecting this... You asking me to buy one of the pieces, I mean. I just didn't expect it to be an old beaten up model. Do you mind telling me why?”
“Well... I've been using your services for years. The pieces are nice, the new holorooms are interesting... But this one... I don't know. I feel like I found what I have been looking for all these years.”
“Well. Ok.” He scratched his head. “I don't know, I kinda expected you to go for a pretty boy.”
“I never liked your pretty boys. They were nice, but...” I laughed and shrugged.
“Do you wanna take him with you, now?”
“Yeah.”
“I'll have the room service clean and dress him, if you don't mind waiting.”
“Not at all.”
I watched as the manager grabbed the phone and whispered a few orders. He also organized the documents. With a sigh, I watched the tips of my boots.
“Does he have a name?” I ask, once the Manager settles again on his chair.
“He calls himself Fox. I don't know why, really... We don't name the pieces, but we don't mind when they...”
“Develop some personality? That's a bit dangerous. Especially in their line of work. Well, I can't complain, it got me this piece.”
“So you're not buying him for his looks.”
“No.” I watch my nails. “I'm not.”
“The reason you're buying them is the the same reason we don't wipe them. That's the whole catch of our business. If they are just mechanical lovers, we have no clients. Believe me; been there, done that.”
“I see.” I think of what he said and I have to admit he's right. I've been to many houses in the city. This is the best one, these are the best pieces. The holorooms are a nice touch on the whole 'we bring your wildest fantasies to life' business, but the pieces are damn near perfect.
“Look...” The Manager organizes the documents on the desk. “Few tips. His beard and hair are hard to keep. You gotta be careful. This is a really old model, if you need help with the maintenance, we have a whiz kid here who can help. I know you do your own stuff, but you may need help. He's all custom, he was made exactly for a western setting, so if you need something for his appearance, you gotta get in contact with the maker. He's expensive to maintain.”
The door opens and one of the staff brings Fox into the room. His hair is still wet, he's wearing a simple pair of jeans and a button down shirt.
“So I'm going with you, ma'am? You takin' me home?” He says softly.
“Yeah. Let's go.” I stand up and move to his side. I hold his hand and look back to the Manager, who is smiling at us.
“If you need anything you call me.” The Manager says as we leave. “Hope you come visit!”
I don't really think I will.
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