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"So's if you'll be kind enough to pay two -- sorry, four, since y'all doubled -- dollars to Pete who staked me, I'd be much obliged, Zeke. I ain't in no hurry for the rest." I turned but after a day of him razzing and teasing me, I couldn't resist. "In fact, if'n you want to wait for your balls to drop and get your growth, you can hold my six 'til then and we can have a rematch?" I walked out to the hootin, hollerin, screaming mirth of all but Zeke, and even he had to laugh.
Ashes and Dust 3: Night & Day
by Bear Pup
I hit the outhouse before heading back to the bunks, passing a couple of the hands on the way. All of em smiled and laughed with me. I was on top of the world.
Danny in his fancy shorts and Kincaid in his loincloth were already seated at the table and Zeke was walking up with a deck of cards. Babe settled into his bunk across and over one (lower, obviously) and it screamed in protest. I could see where chocks had been nailed in place to give it a little extra strength. Max shucked his drawers and jumped into the bunk above and they stared chatting about the day s'if nothing was outta the ordinary to see each other nekkid and, in Babe's case, rock hard and maybe leaking. Gabby, top bunk far end, was already asleep, apparently.
Kincaid spoke up, "You joining us for poker, Jesse?"
"Yeah, you gonna gimme a chance to win back some of what I lost?" from Zeke, everything but his eyes showing friendly. It didn't take me a lot of thought.
"Offer still open later if I take a pass tonight? I'm a bit done in."
"Course, Jesse! Just say the word. Oh, and welcome to The Star, kid." Kincaid was genuinely welcoming just as Zeke was faking it. Pete walked over as I hopped up into my bunk and settled back, facing the bunkhouse.
His voice was low and melodic, "Guess I was wrong, Jesse. You didn't need no words from me. I've never seen Zeke played so well."
I smiled widely. "I could never a done it if you hadn't warned me. I was bout to die in there. Not to mention in here. You were right, I never bunked with men afore and, well, it's gonna take some gettin used to."
"You doin fine, just all by yourself, pardner. Don't let anything get under your skin and you'll do fine. You're one of my cowboys now, Jesse, and I take care of my own, y'hear? You need anything, you let me know." He turned to go then turned back and lowered his voice even more. "And I'm not tellin tales outta school to say that Kincaid? Well, I think he'd quite like to get to know you better, Jesse -- 'loads' better."
Pete sauntered off and I caught Kincaid's eye. He had been looking at me and flicked his eyes away. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was blushing. I looked around the room and saw that Babe was slowly and absently jacking himself as he talked to Matt and neither seemed to notice at all.
I really was pretty done in, truth be told. I lazily watched the poker game in progress. I'd played a bit at the stockyard and learned enough not to be a complete victim. Kincaid faced me, more or less, with Zeke having his back fully toward me and Danny where I could see his hand on occasion. I wasn't really paying attention as much as I was daydreaming with them in the foreground. But I did notice something.
Zeke had zero expression on his face from what I could tell, but whenever he had a really good hand, he's jack and tug on himself. Winning (or at least planning to) made him horny. When he bluffed, he scratched his nuts or his ass. Risk made him itchy. Good to know. Danny always seemed to smile, but smiled wider when bluffing. Kincaid, though, I couldn't tell since I couldn't see his hand. There came a point when Zeke had four very strong hands in a row. After his fourth win, he said a little breathlessly, "I've gotta take a leak. Deal me out for a hand, okay?"
Danny, dealer for the round, shrugged and Zeke stood. He caught my eye and winked with a wide smile as he went out the bunkhouse door. I heard his bare feet scuffing the porch and heard him stop just outside the screened windows that ran under the eaves and below my upper bunk, each window the width bunks themselves. I could hear him when he leaned against the wall. I could hear him spit. My brow furrowed. That wasn't anyplace close to the outhouse and he hadn't had smokes with him.
Then it started. The sound every boy over a certain age knew by heart. The rhythmic fap-fap-fap, quiet enough that no one else in the bunkhouse could possibly hear. I felt myself go hard in an instant. He started whisper, "Yeah, like that," fap-fap-fap, his breathing almost as loud as his words. I flushed bright red, not knowing what to do. All that color drained though, when he started adding stuff.
"Oh, yeah, Jess. Just like that, baby," fap-fap-fap. "Damn, son, that's fine. Your hands are so nice on me," fap-fap-fap. "Touch me like that. Yeah, Jess, you got me going, sweety," fap-fap-fap. "Oh, those are sweet lips there, boy. Yeah, Jess, yore hands're magic but don't you wanna a little... tiny... taste?" fap-fap-fap. I was dumbfounded, froze like a jackrabbit with a rattlesnake. Jess was bad enough, since mostly girls used that name, but the rest? How could he... how could anyone... what did he mean?!?
"Come on sugar, you got me going, baby. See that pearly drop, Jess, right there at the tip?" fap-fap-fap. "Go head and taste it. Yeah, stick that pointy young tongue out," fap-fap-fap. "Oh, yeah, lick it. Just like a lollypop," fap-fap-fap. "Ah'm close baby," fap-fap-fap. "You a spitter or a swallower, Jess, honey?" fap-fap-fap. "Findin," fap-fap-fap, "out," fap-fap-fap, "right," fap-fap-fap, "Nowwwwwww! Uhn-uhn-uhn-uhn-uhn."
I was flat paralyzed with the horror of it. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Cept for one, evil, treacherous part a me. My willie throbbed with each 'fap' and now spurted a little dogwater with each 'uhn'. I heard him finish up and chuckle. The thought that he'd see me and know what I'd heard and the condition it left me in undid me. I flipped over toward the wall and pulled the blanket up just as he came back in the door.
I cursed myself six ways to Sunday for not thinking through the going to bed in a bunkhouse thing. I'd spent the last three years on my own. Whether renting a room or camping rough, I was alone and jacked off fore bed each night and fore comin outta the covers the next morn. And that was without listening to a real live sex show outside my window or watching a bunch of swinging dicks for the last four hours. Right about then I realized something else. I could smell the guys. Whenever one walked past my bunk, there was a little stir of breeze that brought a scent to me, and scent that screamed LUST!
Lights out came perhaps a half-hour later and I almost cried with relief. The stygian darkness was the cover I needed to get the release my body was howling for. Then I almost cried a whole different way -- with frustration. I had my drawers, my mattress and my blanket... and not one damn thing else to catch the inevitable result. I laid there, torn by raging need and fear for at least thirty minutes.
Someone else in the cabin started moving in his bunk. I actually felt the tears form as I realized it was, apparently, someone with more forethought than me, as the fap-fap-fap rhythm built. Whoever it was, well, he wasn't worried others might hear. He went right at it and no mistake. When he got to the crescendo, He let out a grunt/growl not unlike the cough of a tiger in the cage of the Country Fair. Seven immensely-satisfied sounds rocked me and I felt the pillow getting wet as I wept with frustration.
As much as I wanted to follow suit; as brazen and open as whoever-it-was had been; however free and easy these guys were bout sex; the thought of getting up the next morning with pecker tracks up and down my belly, or my drawers matted with dried juice drove spikes of ice through me. Eventually, I fell into a troubled and sex-addled sleep. When the first-up lit the lantern, I woke harder than I'd been in ages.
I turned sleepily and horrified, but it turned out that my condition was pretty standard. I wasn't sure Babe ever wasn't hard and I watched both Pete and Danny head to the two-holer with big ole tents leading the way. I got up and, instead of following, slipped into the clothes that Cookie had provided and then into my boots. No matter what, I wasn't ready to have this huge monstrosity pokin about for all and sundry to scoff at.
Dressed, I headed to the outhouse. Pete passed me and gave me a smile and a 'mornin' and got there just as Danny came out adjusting himself. He clearly wasn't a morning cowboy as he just grunted at me in the predawn light.
I fought to make my pecker go down enough to piss and had nearly finished, my cock thickening quickly as I considered a quick stroke. The door opened and Max came in. I hastily tried to stuff myself into my jeans as Max dropped trou and sat. He looked over at my struggle and said, "Son, you ride like that and you're gonna snap it off. Take an old hand's advice and do something about that fore you set out, hear?"
Blushing like a brushfire, I fled to the chuck house. Cookie smiled and waved me in, pouring me a steaming mug of oil-tar that, apparently, passed as coffee on The Star. He was dressed as yesterday, bare to the waist and with pants that had been cut off at the knee. He even had the four splashed on him and I smiled wide. "Cookie, I really appreciate your bein nice. It really made a difference. Just, well, thank you."
He beamed like a sunrise but said, "Now you hush that nonsense." He pushed me a biscuit dripping with butter and honey and sent me to sit. I was the first in as it happened.
Pete came in next and grumped, "What? No honey-biscuit? What'd I do?"
Cookie got a lofty tone and said, "You's ain't he-yar first, and you's ain't talking sweet to me. He's that did boat eatin dat honey-biscuit." He nodded toward me and Pete's face lit up and he brought his mug-a-sludge over.
"Well, cowboy, I'm regrettin givin you instruction. You done got Cookie all wrapped up, and there ain't nobody on this ranch better to have at your back... figurative speaking, a-course, as he'd rather you were at his back." He waggled his eyebrows and winked. I covered my complete confusion with a sip of coffee. I'd puzzle that one out later.
"Sorry I stole yore biscuit, Pete. There's still half left if you want it."
"Hmm. Well, you earned that honey biscuit, but if'n you wanted to give me a nibble friendly-like, I wouldn't insult ya by sayin no." I smiled widely and cut half of what was left and passed it to him and we relished the sweet treat together as the other hands came in.
Danny wasn't the only bear in the bunch. It was abundantly clear that Zeke and Kincaid would much prefer the get up and about after somebody else took the shine off the sunrise. Zeke was surly, but poor Kincaid, with the puffy eyes and missing neck looked very much like an unhappy turtle. Everyone was settling into breakfast (steak tips, scrambled eggs, beans and more of those wondrous biscuits) when Randy stood up.
"Oke-ee-dok-ee. Today is Jesse's first on The Star. Welcome. You'll be riding with Max. I need you to learn the place and he's the man to show you. Babe and Gabby, set the posts and fences in the holes that Zeke and Danny dug yesti-dee, and Zeke and Danny'll keep a-diggin. You know the line Gary set out. Kincaid, you, me and Gary will be riding the south-west wire. Gary saw dust down there and we all know dust is trouble. Bring a rifle and pistol, both.
"Speakin of which: Jeese, nobody goes out on The Star without a pistol or a shotgun. Snakes are too common and so are two-legged varmints that might well try and do you in just as quick. Which is your preference?"
"I can use either, sir, but on Gypsy? Probably I'd be better with the shotgun. I'll need to get her used to the sound, though. She ain't been rode round gunfire."
"I already guessed that. One reason I'm sending you with Max; good with horses and guns both." Some more small talk and suddenly the whole lot of us broke up. Babe and Gabby were loading a wagon with posts and barbed wire as Danny and Zeke each hefted a shovel and a post-hole digger and set out on foot. Pete went into the big house, leaving five of us walking to the barn.
Gary's low, slow voice asked calmly, "How long you had Gypsy? She seems a fine horse."
"Just over two years. Bought her the day after I turned sixteen official. I'd given the seller five whole dollars to keep her for me til then, near four months. But I didn't want..." My voice faded.
Gary looked at me from the side for a while. "Sixteen is majority where you're from?"
"Yessir." I said quietly.
"Hmph. Well, she looks like a beauty. She moves well, too. Smart, I take it?"
I smiled crookedly, "Smarter than me." That got a chuckle from all of the guys.
I cooed and nickered to Gypsy as the others did to their own mounts. She seemed happy to see me this morning and was certainly feeling her oats. Randy handed Jesse a shotgun, a civil war carbine, along with a bandolier holding perhaps two dozen brass, blunt-top shot cartridges. Before long, Max and I rode Streak and Gypsy out into the yards. Gypsy seemed to take a liking to the grullo mare and happily fell in behind Max's lead.
The familiar motion of Gypsy under me seemed to work magic, loosening the tension I'd felt the day -- and especially the night -- before. Sadly, that tension was the only thing that kept me from a raging hardon. It started to snake down my leg which would be murder on a horse, so I reached in to adjust just as Max turned around. I froze in horror as the older cowboy smiled and looked away. 'Hell and damnation!' I thought as I yanked my hand back out, too fast as it turned out. I'd got my cock situated but now my balls were trapped in the wad of cloth left behind my hand's hasty retreat.
I tried, I really did, to pay close attention to Max's comments about the ranch as my eyes slowly crossed from the twin discomforts of a hardon and pinched nuts. We approached the snaking tree-line. A mix of blackjacks and elms, Max said that keeping the underbrush tamed as well and killing off any cedars that pop up was a significant part of the chores when the cattle didn't need our immediate attention.
"Gary was chopping at a cedar. Ever-body hates em. Why's that?" Max slid off Streak and patted her, then led her into the edge of the shade. I noted he didn't see any need to hobble or tie the mare, any more than I did with Gypsy. I got down too, with a loud, "Oof!"
"Ain't all cedars, just the ones that grow on rangelands. Nasty, spreading things." He walked into the shade as he spoke, "Cedars suck water like a sponge and ain't worth nothin. They're small, crooked, low-growing and don't burn for shit. The trunks are twisty and can catch a horse or a steer and bring him down if they're running." He stopped and turned, leaning against a tree.
"Now, you wouldn't take my advice earlier, you sure as hellfire are gonna do it now. We ain't been out an hour and you cain't walk straight or listen. I ain't havin ya hurt cuz you're either too stupid or too stubborn to deal with the problem. Either you takes care a that trouser snake or I will, and don't think I'm messin!"
I stood, red-faced and slack-jawed, as rooted to the spot as any cedar. He started to walk past me and, I hope, leave me in peace, but he spun behind me and my pants and drawers were round my boot fore I could squeak. I could hear the smile in his voice. "I was kinda hopin that would be the answer." He reached down and hissed as he found my cock, rock hard and sticking to the left. "Damn, feels ever bit as nice as it looks, Jesse. You need to take care of this, son."
I moaned deep as he started diddling the head and playing with my foreskin, rolling it in his fingers. I felt me head go back and rest on his shoulder and his warm breath and rough voice tickled my ear. That's right, you just lean on back and let Max take care a ya." His other hand found my balls and played there as my breathing got shorter. Then he done something I never even thought.
His extra hand snuck up neath my undershirt and found my left teat and started to pull and roll it gently but powerfully between those work-hardened hands. I took a shuddering gasp that came out as a long whimper and Max purred in my ear, "Yeah. You like that. I'm glad cuz I do, too. Show me you like it, stud. Show me, Jesse. Shoot for me. Shoot for Max" It took about ten more strokes before I blew, grunting like an enraged bull and bucking like one, too.
Max shocked me again as he turned my face to him and kissed me solid. My eyes flew open even in the middle of my explosion and I saw the heat and tenderness in his eyes and just... went along. The kiss deepened and before I knew it, he'd started up again on both my cock and my tits, rougher this time. I'd pulled myself off a couple times in a row, once or twice, but always had a little cool-down between. Max used that post-blow sensitivity to turn my sex-fire into an inferno. I squeaked and squawked like a rooster as his hands took me two ways and his tongue a third, exploring every part of my mouth as I moaned around it. I spent perhaps a few minutes, hours, lifetimes in that kiss as he felt me get close, he pulled out of the kiss and began to nibble my ear and whisper.
"That's it, son. Let Max take you places. You're hot and sexy, kid, and ever-body but you knows it. Damn, you're soft and hard, tender and rough, beautiful to beat the band. Cum for me Jesse. Come on and shoot again, just for Max. Make me proud. Show me how much you like what I can do for you, do to you. Max'll treat you right, Jesse. Oooooooh yeah! That's it! That's it! DAMN!"
My hips started bucking wildly again and I came perhaps harder the second time than the first. I let out a mournful, satisfied howl and long, arcing ropes of cum shot out. Thick streams jetting out of my pink head and into the underbrush. I back collapsed into Max, utterly unable to hold myself up.
I felt his hand moving quickly as I came back to myself and realized he was pleasuring his own self now. I turned and knocked his hand away. I don't know what come over me then. Shame I'd let him do me and left him frustrated? Feelin that I owed the cowboy something? A desperate, gnawing thirst to feel his sex and kiss him again? Um, yeah; that one.
I dove back into the kiss, locking my hand behind the cowboy's red, sun-roughed neck, eating his moans and attempts at words. The contrasts -- silk-over-steel of his cock and the soft-under-rough of his lips -- made me moan into his mouth as well, a sound that seemed to take him where he needed to be. I sucked a high, keening sound from his lungs into mine and kept the pace and pressure as he unloaded into my hand and onto my jeans. I held him in the kiss until he started to squeak with discomfort, releasing the cock and keeping him locked to my lips. As he came down, I pulled back and smiled into his rather-shocked eyes. "That's just my way of saying, 'thank-ee,' cowboy."
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 33 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 24 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 26 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Lake Desolation: 18 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Culberhouse Rules: 9 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/ Raven's Claw: 7 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/ Ashes & Dust: 3 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/