I, Tom Seeley, have driven cattle since I was sixteen, going up the Shawnee or Chisholm Trail every year, becoming a man along the way and swearing by the life. Began knowing men the first year. No stopping that, and I am now twenty-two, looking up at the sky and wondering how I can feel lonely when I just got my dick sucked.
-Review by Kazza K
Tom Seeley is on a cattle drive to Abilene. There's no privacy, men wash in the river together, they take rotations on night watch over the camp, they sleep in close proximity and, when the need takes some, they suck and fuck - often times when others can see/hear. It is months and months of dry, dusty trails with no woman, and some men choose to let off steam. Tom has two suck/fuck buddies Matt and Drew. They all like the company of other men in or out of town, and they are not adverse to a pretty rough and ready threesome. It's also clear that while some do take advantage of male company when out on the trail, when back in town they're with females.
Tom has been working the cattle drives for six years. Whatever his feelings before, they have taken on a melancholic change. He is more aware of feeling lonely amongst the eighteen men he is on this drive with, despite always being surrounded by them. He's not really sure if that's a normal way to feel. Having sex is a sure way of distraction for Tom, but one night when he talks to Jack Dawe, the drive's 2IC, something clicks -
It's another clear night and with the cattle and the men bedding down, we are in quiet. Side by side behind the herd. I steal glances at Jack. And I find him looking skyward. "Lonely as God," he says. This hits me like nothing ever has. My insides draw up, and I swear my heart misses some beats as I recognise the familiar ache, called up now but not by me.
When Jack drops his gaze back down to the stock, I wonder could he know an ache such as mine? Could the lonely he speaks of be his own?
That's a revelation to Tom. That someone could, perhaps, know how he is feeling. Especially someone like Jack Dawe -
I want to speak on his comment but cannot. He's stirred me all wrong and though my heart has settled down, the ache persists because a man can't talk on such a thing to another man.
And maybe it was an offhand remark, and he's gone onto other thoughts. I can't believe he feels as I do. Lonely among men makes no sense.
I loved the take on the era, the men that they are. Tom's a pretty grass roots type. The most he tends to read is a paper sometimes at drives' end. He's not like Jack -
...while we lay over two days at the Brazos Rover, I see him pull a small book from his pocket and sit reading. He's off by himself, on a rock besides the water. Never seen a cow puncher do that.
From limited interaction Tom has developed feelings for Jack Dawe - from a distance, the moments they do have limited words, and what he sees physically, both sitting astride a horse and naked in the river -
Later I see Jack strip and do the same. I have to work at not looking interested in him, glancing sideways as I feast on that strong back and the bottom where his finger played around. Come nightfall, I lay in the dark and pull my dick to a good come. By the time we near Abilene I am pretty well undone by a man who has expressed no particular interest in me.
In Abilene things take an interesting turn and Tom gets to see more of Jack. Talk more to Jack and be physical with jack. He also gets to hear more from the poet that penned "Lonely as God" in a poem. Jack's Joaquin Miller's book of poetry speaks of California and places neither man has ever been but they are intrigued about. I've already said enough about what is a shortish read. The rest is best read.
I will add that this book is raw in its sexual content -
He chuckles, but his expression is not one of amusement. His dark eyes are ablaze, and his mouth is open, teeth bared like he plans to eat me. Another shove and he's full inside me, and I grab my dick because I am in glory. Always get that with a dick up me, but this dick is special and getting to watch
the man takes me beyond the usual pleasure.
He moves like he's in no hurry to gain release. I squirm on the dick because I want a good hard fuck...
I pump my dick with a fury now as that tongue keeps on and finally I'm stiff as a post. I want to come while he fucks me this way and believe he means me to do just that. He is not doing anything with his own cock, he is just tongue fucking me.
The tongue is a little frenzy in my hole, and then my rise starts and I cry out and pump and pump to work out the very last.....
I liked the sound of this book when I first saw that it was coming out. But I have to say that it exceeded my expectations. I really liked the matter of fact, perfectly understated style that Dale Chase used. It appealed to me on many levels - a grittier, raw sexual side, my need for the right style of prose for the period, and the men of the time - within erotic M/M fiction. Feeling the melancholy that Tom is feeling and the uncertainty of it. The way he's in awe of Jack as an older (thirty one), attractive man, but more than that, a man of many abilities, who reads poetry that strikes a chord with Tom, and who also seems to understand Tom's loneliness. Maybe he's found someone else who also 'gets' being lonely in a crowd. Someone he could be with. The homage paid to Joaquin Miller's Songs of the Sierras was perfect and tied into the era, the story, the mood, and the characters well. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of the book. I wish it had been longer. But I'm more than happy with the well named Lonely as God.
4.0 Not So Lonely Stars