GUEST POST and EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: B.G. Thomas of 'The Real Thing'
Title: The Real Thing
Author: B.G. Thomas
Published: March 1, 2017 – 2nd Edition
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: L.C. Chase
Genre: Contemporary Romance; Erotic Romance
Length: 52 Pages
Tags: Gay; M/M; Western/Cowboys; Open-Ended; Novelette
About The Real Thing
Bryan Mills has fantasized about cowboys all his life. Real cowboys, that is. He even dresses in what his roommate calls “cowboy drag” when he visits his favorite bar, in the hope of attracting the attentions of a genuine cowboy. But all he usually finds are posers and guys his own age.
Then one night, to his surprise, Curtis Hansen buys him a beer, and Bryan has no doubt this is the real thing. Curtis is a rugged, gorgeous man who is every bit a cowboy. He even owns his own ranch. What follows is about the most amazing night of Bryan’s young life.
But can they move beyond a night of incredible sex when Bryan admits to Curtis that the only horse he’s ever ridden was a birthday party pony? And that he’s nothing but a poser himself? Maybe, just maybe, Curtis can find the real cowboy inside Bryan, and they can ride off into the sunset together!
First Edition published as The Real Thing in Riding Double by Dreamspinner Press, 2011.
Discovering the Real Thing
So quite a few years ago—and don’t ask me how many for goodness sake—when I was first discovering the gay bar scene in Kansas City, I checked out a little “watering hole” called Side Kicks. When I went inside I was...well...surprised.
With a name like Side Kicks I should have known it was a country and western bar, right? But I didn’t think about it. My heart was pounding because I was in my first gay bar in six or seven years—the years where I tried to be straight and failed—so I didn’t even think about there being types of gay bars.
I am not a country and western music fan. I was raised in a home where there was C&W, or there was Christian music. But rather than be one of those people who liked that kind of music because they grew up with it—I pretty much loathed it. With the exception of Dolly Parton, which I find amusingly ironic that I was already liking gay icon devas before I knew what gay was—and later, Olivia Newton John which...wow...come to think of it, she became a gay icon as well! Wow! How did I know that I was “supposed” to like devas?
Anyway, the second thing that struck me were the young guys, early twenties, prancing around the dancefloor in their cowboy boots, exceedingly tight jeans, C&W shirts and cowboy hats. I was horrified. Now let me explain.
I was just finally really coming out and realizing that I was indeed gay and I needed to accept it and stop fighting it. A simple kiss from another man made my knees turn to rubber. But a kiss from a woman, even if she was an exceptional kisser, did nothing for me. Yeah. It meant that it was time to accept I was gay. But like a lot of “new” gay men, I had a lot of internalized homophobia. And the dancing I was watching horrified me.
It wasn’t the fact that they were men dancing with men. I knew that was hot. It was the fact that the men were acting pretty darned effeminate. Today I accept everyone for who they are. But at that time I was still turned off by so-called “swishy” gay men. These days I can’t imagine not having queens for friends. I will admit that I have many a friend who would grin and roll their eyes and remind me that I’m not all that macho.
The other thing that bothered me by these dancing men is that, while they were dressed like cowboys, they were nothing like John Wayne from True Grit or Clint Eastwood in The Outlaw Josey Wales. Those iconic heroes were scruffy and sweaty and dusty. These guys were clean cut and perfumed and sparkling. Their shirts were pink and lavender and lime green and canary yellow. Their boots matched. I decided it was time to flee.
And I almost ran smack dab into some real cowboys. Or they at least looked real to me. These fit the bill. Their shirts were faded, their skin dark from the sun, their jawlines scruffy, their boots scuffed. And I could see they didn’t talk too kindly about the guys on the dance floor. In fact, they said more than a few “discouraging words.”
I never went back to Side Kicks. I found bars more to my taste. But I also never forgot that night.
Twenty some years later when Dreamspinner Press was announcing its call for submissions for a cowboy anthology called Riding Double, that memory of that evening at Side Kicks came back to me. I knew just what I wanted to write. The story of a young man named Bryan Mills, who fantasizes about cowboys. A young man who grew up epitomizing cowboys. A young man who came to realize he was gay because of how he felt about cowboys. He didn’t just like them. He liked them!
And he finds himself in a situation very similar to the one I found myself in years before. Except he liked country and western music. He knew a lot about cowboys. And he was shocked when he—thinking he looked like the real thing—saw the older (and far sexier) cowboys making fun of the young ones. He was dressed the same way! And so, he fled. He went home, got rid of his garb, and went for something far more real. He used bleach and sandpaper and all kinds of online tricks to try to look authentic.
Imagine his surprise when he meets someone as real as anything he had ever hoped for....
The cowboy looked like he might be twice Bryan’s age. He wore a classic cowboy shirt in red and a black hat. His skin was dark, surely from years in the sun, and he had a thick but well-trimmed dark beard, touched with gray, growing over a wide lantern jaw. His eyes were nearly hidden in the shadow of his cowboy hat. But his mouth was visible. And oh, what a sweet, sexy smile!
Not only is the cowboy sexy, but he buys Bryan a drink. He can’t believe is luck!
Bryan nodded at the older man, noting his thick chest from where he stood. Bryan wondered whether it was muscles or a little fleshy padding and hoped for both. The man nodded back and touched the brim of his hat, and that made Bryan’s dick tingle. The man was a real cowboy. Had to be.
Bryan has a little fear to work through, but finally he and this very real cowboy meet, face to face.
A moment later, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and when Bryan turned, his heart nearly stopped. He was facing—no, he was looking up at—his cowboy.
He’s gorgeous.
“‘Lo,” the man said in a deep, slightly gravelly voice.
“Hey,” Bryan returned, or tried to. His mouth had gone dry. He tried again. “Hello. Th-thanks for the beer.”
“No problem. Mind if I sit with you?”
“P-please,” Bryan almost squeaked. Get a hold of yourself! Don’t fuck this up!
Heart pounding, Bryan climbed up on the next barstool.
“I’m Curtis,” the man said and held out his hand.
“Curt?” Bryan asked, and when he reached out his hand, it was nearly swallowed in the man’s larger one, which was rough with calluses. Bryan wondered what those hands would feel like on his bare skin. He trembled at the idea.
“No, Curtis,” Bryan’s fantasy responded.
“Sorry,” he somehow managed.
“No problem,” the man said again. “And yours?”
My what? Bryan wondered, and then, “Oh!” He blushed and cursed himself for it. He was messing this up bad. “Bryan.”
“Bry?” Curtis asked and then winked.
Bryan laughed. “No, it’s Bryan.”
“Deal,” said Curtis, and then finally, slowly, let go of Bryan’s hand. “I don’t know if I’ve seen you here before.”
“I’ve been here,” Bryan replied. “A time or two.”
“So what brought you out tonight?” Curtis asked. “You meetin’ friends, or are you alone?”
“Alone,” Bryan said.
“Good.” Curtis gave Bryan the sexiest smile he’d ever seen.
Bryan gulped. “I just needed to get out, you know? What about you?”
“Well, I’m alone tonight. Or at least I was.”
Whoa. The lines Curtis tossed out.
“I always like to go out on a Saturday night. Work hard on my ranch all week long, keepin’ to my own business, old-fashioned straight people my only company, and I just got to get around men or I’ll go crazy. You know?”
“Ranch?” said Bryan, his imagination soaring. A ranch? God! The man had a ranch?
“Small one,” Curtis said. “‘Bout a thousand acres. Got me around two hundred head of cattle.”
“Really?” asked Bryan, trying not to sound too excited.
Curtis smiled. “Not huge, but just big enough, you know? I love the land. It’s been in the Hansen family a long time—”
His last name is Hansen.
“—and my parents are gettin’ up in age, so I’m taking care of it. Pretty much by myself, but I do hire a couple of local young boys to help out when they can, especially during calving.”
Cows, thought Bryan. Real cows.
“I’m sure an operation as small as mine would just bore you,” Curtis said.
“No! Not at all.” Bryan tried to calm his voice. He was going to sound so green, Curtis might laugh at him. Just like he had those young men in their silly red-slipper cowboy boots.
“You do ranch work?”
It was the type of question Bryan had dreaded.
“Been too busy with school,” Bryan said. “But now that I’m done....”
“Well, maybe you’d like to come out and see my spread sometime?” Curtis said.
“I’d fucking love it,” Bryan all but blurted. Imagine! A cowboy, a ranch, cows. And horses?
Curtis laughed. “That might be arranged.” He turned and ordered another pitcher of beer.
“Want me to get this one?” Bryan asked.
“Nope. I like it just like this. Me gettin’ it for you. You aren’t ready yet for another, are you, little cowboy?”
Cowboy? Did a man like Curtis think he was a cowboy? A thrill rushed through him. God, it was just too much. Older man. Calling him by that word—cowboy. Little cowboy. Buying the beer. A ranch! He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said.
“Let me know,” Curtis said, turning back to Bryan with his own newly filled pitcher. As he did, the light caught his face just right, and Bryan could see that the man’s eyes were an amazing blue. They seemed to blaze from his dark face and almost-beard. He could also see the dark hair that showed above the opening in his shirt, and Bryan’s cock went fully hard. He could feel it leaking in his jeans. And he hadn’t worn underwear. It was going to show.
So what? Let it! Let Curtis see how much I want him.
“You know you’ve got about the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen?” Curtis asked.
Bryan started, Curtis’s words echoing his own thoughts. He blushed. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothin’ but the truth. They remind me of a clear summer day.”
Bryan’s heart raced, and the words went from there to his cock. This was all a dream. He was going to wake up. He was bound to. Had to. It had to be a dream. How else could this be happening?
“I was thinking the same thing about you, Curtis.”
“Thank you kindly,” Curtis said.
Thank you kindly? Had he really said that? He was living a Western. A gay one! Taking a chance, Bryan said, “As a matter of fact, you have got to be the handsomest, sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Well, damn, boy,” Curtis said with a grin. “You’re gonna turn my head if you don’t stop.”
“Should I stop?” Bryan asked sincerely.
“Don’t you dare,” Curtis replied, and those eyes twinkled. “Just give me a chance to say some things about you too.”
“Me?”
“Hell yes.” Curtis laughed, and Bryan knew it was a good laugh and not a mean one at all. “Surprises me a young colt like yourself would give an old man like me the time of day.”
Bryan looked up at the clock over the bar. “It’s ten-eighteen,” he said. “Bar time, of course.”
Curtis laughed again, and Bryan found himself loving the sound of it. It was like a rumble. Another male quality that sent sparks deep into Bryan’s chest. “I don’t have much time for guys my age,” Bryan blurted. “They’re boring. Too... I don’t know. Smooth? Too soft. And they think they know everything. I like men who’ve lived life. Like... like you.”
“You’re so sweet, little cowboy,” said Curtis, taking his turn. “And those lips of yours look so soft.”
Bryan blushed so hard his face burned.
“Makes me want to kiss ‘em,” Curtis said huskily.
Then kiss me! Bryan shouted in his mind but was unable to say aloud. So instead he leaned in, head tipped back to Curtis’s superior height, so close, waiting....
And Curtis stepped back.
Bryan’s eyes widened and a whimper escaped him.
Curtis snorted.
“I... I....”
“You what?” asked Curtis.
“I wanted....”
“I know what you want,” Curtis said, looking down at Bryan’s crotch.
Bryan looked down, and yes, his cock was clearly, almost obscenely, visible, and there was indeed a quarter-sized wet spot at its tip. Despite his inward bravado, he couldn’t have been more embarrassed.
Curtis gave that deep chuckle and said, “But why don’t we just wait a little? The best things are worth waitin’ for. You ready for that beer?”
When they got to Bryan’s apartment....
But no! I can’t take you there! That wouldn’t be fair! LOL!
If you want to know more, you’ll just have to buy it!
Oh! A word of explanation for all those who noticed this story is a second edition. The first version was for that long ago anthology, Riding Double. But the book went out of print, thankfully Dreamspinner didn’t think the story should. So they had me clean the story up (I am a bunch better writer than I was back in 2011) and I added a couple thousand words and now you have the definitive version of my story. I hope you check it out, and I hope you love it!
Okay! I gotta mosey along.
So long. Y’all come back, now!
B.G. “Ben” Thomas
About the Author
B.G. Thomas lives in Kansas City with his husband of more than a decade and their fabulous dogs Sarah Jane and Oliver. He is blessed to have a lovely daughter as well as many extraordinary friends. He has a great passion for life.
B.G. loves romance, comedies, fantasy, science fiction, and even horror—as far as he is concerned, as long as the stories are character driven and entertaining, it doesn’t matter the genre. He has gone to literature conventions his entire adult life where he’s been lucky enough to meet many of his favorite writers. He has made up stories since he was a child; it is where he finds his joy.
In the nineties, he wrote for gay adult magazines but stopped because the editors wanted all sex without plot. “The sex is never as important as the characters,” he says. “Who cares what they are doing if we don’t care about them?” Excited about the growing male/male romance market, he began writing again. He submitted a novella and was thrilled when it was accepted in four days. Since then the romantic tales have poured out of him. “It’s like I’m somehow making up for a lifetime’s worth of story-telling!”
“Leap, and the net will appear” is his personal philosophy and his message. “It is never too late,” he testifies. “Pursue your dreams. They will come true!”
For more works from B.G. visit his website.
