Stonegate Stable

From Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . .

By Wednesday, I felt pretty confidant that I could make some positive changes in the way we did things that would benefit everyone and liven things up a little. Knowing I could do whatever I wanted was very liberating. William had always agreed to my ideas, but I'd still had to run things by him and get his approval. Now, as sole owner, if I wanted to, I could paint all the buildings pink, and make Daisy Dukes and wife beaters the official Stonegate uniform, but luckily for all of us, the stuff I wanted to do made a lot more sense.

I went home to Vincent that night content with life.

Stonegate Stables

Chapter 13

William's memorial service was held on a hot morning at graveside in a cemetery in town. I knew a few of the large crowd of people, but most were strangers to me, and I realized that I had been a very small part of William's life for a very short time, but a good part, I hoped. I did recognize a few other riders who must have come after me in William's man-by-man conquest of the jumping world. One or two nodded to me, but we didn't speak and I sat through the ceremony quietly, reflecting on my months with William.

Martin had everyone back to William's city house for a reception, at William's request, I'm sure. He always liked a party, even if he wasn't around to attend this one. I sipped an orange juice, chatted with a few people, and went home, subdued, but not really sad any longer. William had enjoyed a good life and I hoped I could say the same when my time came.

Over the next few days, I became totally caught up in getting ready for the first Gran Prix. It had been my world for a lot of years and I was excited to get another crack at it, but I was also nervous as hell. At 30, I was older than most of the top riders, but I figured that made me smarter too, or so I told myself whenever I got the panicky urge to call Amanda and cancel. Vincent tried to keep me calmed down, but he had never performed on a national level as I had, and finally threw up his hands and suggested Valium if I was going to act like a nut case until the damn horse show came and went. I snapped at him for referring to a Gran Prix as a 'horse show', but he kissed me quickly and distracted me by sticking his hand down my pants.

Amanda sent me a DVD of Simon's last several rides and the first time I watched it, something jumped out at me. Amanda had two horses on the circuit this season. They had fancy registered names, but she always gave her top horses barn names of fashion designers, so this season we had Donna (Karan) and Calvin (Klein). Donna was 3rd in points right now, a nice Warmblood bay mare that tried hard and was reliable. Then there was Calvin. Amanda had picked him up cheap at a dispersal auction in a fit of I'm not sure what. Cal was a dark bay Thoroughbred/draft cross, big, strong, and quick, but given to temper tantrums that made him a question mark in the ring. Still, Simon had him 6th in points. As I watched him take Cal around the arena, I noticed that in between jumps, Calvin's head swung from one side to the other, his ears waggling like crazy. I had ridden him a lot when Amanda first got him, and I had a few ideas on how to get more out of him.

I bought a few sets of show clothes and treated myself to a new pair of Sergio Grasso boots. Vincent's eyes widened at the price tag, but they fit wonderfully and were comfortable enough to wear all day. I spent an extra couple hours in the saddle every day, taking over the schooling of most of the jumpers currently at the stable, and by the time the Tuesday before the event rolled around, I was as ready as I was going to get. I had the skill, the desire, and the smarts. Now we just had to see if I had the luck.

One morning I asked Vincent, "Can you get away for an hour sometime today? I'm going to ride a couple horses at competition pace and thought you might like a taste of what I'll be doing." He said he'd be there around 2, after the lunch rush.

The first horse was a bay gelding named Tinker because his previous owner had told me he wasn't worth a 'tinker's damn' as a hunter for his daughter. Just as the Beemer purred into the yard, I'd finished warming him up, and was ready to go. Several people heard that I was going to cut loose, and our little bleachers were almost full. I circled Tink around one end of the arena and turned him toward the first jump.

We had set the ring up like Devon from a couple years ago, 12 obstacles, big and challenging. The first jump was a vertical and Tinker sailed over it with a foot to spare. He was a strong jumper, but not especially handy so I kept my turns large and round. He stuttered through 4A and B, an oxer/oxer combination, but only knocked one rail down. Six was the water that he thought twice about, but I rode him hard and he stretched over it, landing a couple inches past the tape on the far side. The biggest challenge on this course is 10A, B and C, the oxer/vertical/oxer combination, with two and three strides in between, respectively. Only two horses were clean the year this course was used. We got over the first spread, pulled up sufficiently to clear the vertical, but then Tink didn't gear up quite enough to make it over the second oxer; hanging a front leg in the far pole and bringing it along with us. He stumbled hard, but stayed on his feet, and we finished the rest of the course without incident. Vincent rolled his eyes at me and shook his head, but he was smiling.

The next horse was a quick little jumper named Marvin, the only horse of Frank Easton, a developer from Dallas who came up on weekends to play country squire. Frank couldn't afford to campaign Marvin all over the country, but he did well locally and made it to an occasional regional qualifier. Marvin was small, but jumped like a gazelle, and he was great for practicing tight turns. I had studied the course closely and this go should be a lot more interesting than Tinker's. As we were in the air over the second jump, I asked Marvin for a left lead and the instant we landed, I tugged him hard between 8 and 9, cutting five strides off the time it took to get to 3. We took it at a tight angle and galloped through 4, 5 and 6 before I had another opportunity to cut some time. I did the same sort of thing and we were clean with a time twelve seconds quicker than Tink's, and less than a second off the winning time at Devon. Those shortcuts are what it takes to win and I was jazzed cause I thought I could probably do the same sort of thing on Cal if we could make it into the jump off.

Vincent was grinning at me when I came out of the ring. "Jesus, that was exciting. This horse was a lot faster than the first one." He looked at my smug expression. "You look pretty pleased with yourself."

I shrugged. "I think I have a chance. A good one, if I can keep Calvin's mind on his work." He went back to the restaurant and I finished the day in a pleasant glow. At least I was pretty sure now that I wouldn't totally embarrass myself for riding, and Amanda for hiring me.

That final week went by with several interesting happenings. Martin called Monday to say that the transfer of ownership was complete and that I was now the official owner of Stonegate and all it entailed. I blew out a long breath when we hung up, then turned in surprise when Tommy, Alejandro, Sam, and Teresa all burst through the door, cheering and hugging me. Teresa had answered the phone and sweet talked Martin into telling her the reason for his call. They were thrilled for me and the burden of ownership lightened a little as I remembered that I had all these good people working for me; people I could count on. I took them all for lunch across the road and brought back a box of gooey desserts from the deli for everyone else, calling a short meeting in the office to give them the news.

Vincent came home with a cluster of helium balloons that said `congratulations' and a bottle of champagne that we used to wash down the Chinese food he'd picked up. I knew he would someday own the restaurants, and I wondered how our lives would change with the pressures of both of us being sole proprietors of successful businesses.

Tommy found me the next afternoon as I was packing up my kit bag for the trip. I was sorting out a pile of spurs when he came into the tack room. He looked a little nervous and I eyed him curiously. "What's up?"

"Well, there's a guy here about a job."

"Okay. If it's a stable boy, you can talk to him, like

usual. I don't think we have anything else right now,

do we?" "It's for a stable boy, but I think you should

talk to him." "Why?"

"Well, he works at Henderson's and wants out of there."

I snorted. "Good for him, he's got some brains, at least. Hire him."

"He wants to talk to you first."

I finally turned to face him. "Well, why the hell didn't you say so? Where is he?"

Tommy sent the guy to my office. He closed the door behind him and just stood there watching me for a moment. He was decent looking, sandy haired with a full beard, about 6 foot, with what looked like a good body in somewhat shabby clothes. I stood and walked around the desk to him. "I'm Sean Flanagan. Tommy says you want to get out of Henderson's. How long have you been there?"

"Three years. Yeah, I don't want to work there any more. They treat their horses bad." He glanced around the office quickly, and then met my eyes again. "My name's Gabriel. Gabe. I know about the horse."

I looked at his face, trying to get a read on him. Was he blackmailing me with horse stealing? Kind of late since Sam had it all straightened out with the court. When I didn't reply, he shifted his feet a little and spoke again. "I was in prison," he blurted out. "I did 16 months for Grand Theft Auto. I've been out almost four years. I work hard and I know horses. The prison was part of the BLM mustang program."

I absorbed all that in silence. Henderson's hired ex- cons; that wasn't much of a surprise. Then I caught myself. Not all cons were scum. Jesus, I was as bad as every straight person who assumed all gay men were perverts. Just cause the guy had fucked up and spent time in prison didn't mean he was a total lost cause. I looked at him more closely. He met my eyes steadily, but I could see he was a little nervous. I guessed I would be, too.

The Bureau of Land Management rounded up wild mustangs a few times a year and auctioned them off. The ones who didn't get bought were sold to dog food factories or given to prisons. The prisons broke, trained, and sold them, using the profits to keep the program going. It gave the prisoners something worthwhile to do and gave the horses another chance at life. I looked back at Gabriel, who was still watching me, waiting for my decision. "You need to give notice?"

He shook his head. "Yesterday was my last day. I couldn't stand it any more so I quit. I've enough saved up to live for a while 'til I get another job."

"See Tommy at 7 tomorrow morning."

"Thanks. I . . . You won't be sorry." I nodded at him and he left. I hoped my instincts were good. I saw him now and then over the next couple days, always with his eyes on his job, doing all the grunt work that was traditionally given to the FNGs. Tommy reported that he showed up early and worked until quitting time - so far, so good.

Early the morning after Gabriel started, Danny came rattling up the drive in his farrier's truck. I'd seen him around town several times since TJ had started doing our horses and wondered what brought him out here at this hour. He climbed out, jammed his hands in his pockets, and stood looking around as I walked over to meet him. He was a good looking guy with dark hair, buzzed for summer, more muscled than TJ, but not quite to Wade's level. He wore his jeans tight and always had a serious bulge in his crotch that I'd been curious about for years. He was a home town boy, raised on a local ranch and probably hadn't been out of the tri-county area three times in his life except to farrier school.

"Hey, bud, haven't seen you in a while. How's the shoeing business?"

"Uh, good," he said, glancing away from me with a distracted look on his face. I watched him for a moment, but he just stared off across the yard.

"Something on your mind?" I prompted him.

"Yeah . . . " He damn near scuffed the toe of his Ropers in the dirt and I started to smile.

"Wanna go in the office and talk about it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good."

We walked silently to the far end of the big barn and into my quiet office, where I closed the door behind us and watched him work up to it. He wandered around a bit, finally coming to a halt near the table that held the best of the trophies from my competitive days. As he ran a finger over the engraving on a big crystal bowl, he muttered, "I need me a blow job."

I simply blinked at him, sure that my ears were going bad. I couldn't possibly have heard him correctly. "Excuse me?"

He turned to look at me now. "I'm thinkin' `bout getting' married and I need me one good blow job afore I do."

"And you think I'm the person to ask about that?"

"Well, I know you're gay. You never made no effort to hide it, so I figured . . . "

"You figured what? That just because I'm queer, I'd jump at the chance to suck your cock? You ignorant asshole, I oughta --"

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way. Sorry. Fuck. Becky don't give head worth a damn and I thought if I could just once in my life get my dick sucked by somebody who knows what the hell they're doing, I could maybe give her some pointers." He shook his head and started for the door. "Sorry, just forget I was here."

I grabbed his arm as he walked past me, swinging him around to look him in the face. "What makes you think I'd be interested?"

He studied my expression for a moment, gauging my mood. "Well, I noticed you looking at my dick a fair bit whenever I was out here doing your horses."

He had me there. And I thought I'd been so discreet. I tried to calm down and think about what he was asking. "Stay here a minute."

I walked outside, pulled out my cell, and dialed Vincent. "You're not going to believe the offer I just got." He was chuckling after a couple sentences and by the time I was finished, he was laughing hard.

"Oh, God, that's great!" he gasped. "Don't be pissed at him. Poor guy. He sounds totally fucked to me. Go do him, quick. He deserves one really good one, don't you think? And you're just the man to give it to him. I only wish I was there to see his face, but you keep your dick in your pants. I'll take care of you tonight."

He hung up still chuckling to himself and I walked back in to Danny who turned to me. "Look, Sean, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean --"

"It's okay," I cut him off. "I know what you meant. You're gonna get your blow job, but on my conditions." He stared at me for a long moment; then nodded.

"Come here. Lean your ass against the desk and spread your feet." When he was set, I stepped between his boots, put my hands on his shoulders, and looked into his face from about eight inches away. He flinched a little, but didn't move, staring back at me, with both apprehension and expectation on his face. I'd had this particular fantasy about Danny for years, so I was going to make the most of it.

I slid my hands down his chest, the firm blocks of his pecs filling my palms. He sucked in a breath and let it out with a shudder when my thumbs slid over his nipples. As my hands traveled down the ridges of his stomach, his eyes darkened and his lips parted slightly, but I figured kissing was more than he'd bargained for so I left his mouth alone. When I put a hand on his crotch, he jumped again and his dick lurched against the confines of his jeans. I pulled his t-shirt out and flipped open the buttons of his 501s. He wasn't wearing any shorts and the tip of his cock was visible, dark red, wet and shiny, as I parted his fly and pushed his jeans down.

"My God, Danny!" I looked up at him. He had one of those beer can dicks, average length, but really thick, and his nuts were huge, tugging down the soft skin of his scrotum with a weighty sway.

"What?!?" He sounded panicky.

"Your dick is amazing. And your balls are huge."

"Yeah, so?" he said defensively, looking down at the items in question, now resting in my hands.

"Relax. That's a compliment. They're great. Really hot."

"Becky thinks it's all gross."

I looked at him hard. "Maybe you need to rethink Becky. None of my business, but how can you be with someone who thinks this is gross?" I bent his dick down and let it slap back up against his tight, hairy belly while my other hand squeezed his balls, pulling a moan from him.

Before he could think about it, I dropped to my knees and wrapped my lips over the big mushroom head of his cock, sucking gently. His mouth dropped open in a groan that twisted his face with pleasure and his hands closed around the sides of my head, pulling me closer. I let him bury himself in my throat, and nuzzled my nose into his black, untrimmed bush when I got there. He smelled great and I inhaled deeply as he pushed into my face.

He started fucking my mouth almost immediately and probably could have come in a New York minute, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. Since he seemed to think gay guys were the last word on cock sucking, I was going to make damn sure he went away certain of it.

I ran my hands up his belly under his shirt, through the thick cushion of crispy black hair that tickled my wrists. His nipples were hard now and I rolled them gently in my fingertips, all the while dragging my mouth up and down his thick cock in long, slow strokes, lingering at the top to run my tongue over his slit. Deep groans rumbled through his body and his hands trembled slightly on my head.

When he was once again thrusting into me, I dropped to his nuts, sucking first one, then the other into my mouth since they didn't both fit at once. I pulled them aside and licked as far back as I could reach, tickling just the edge of his furry hole. His groan changed to a higher pitched `ahhhhh' and he squatted slightly to give me better access. I didn't think he could take much more so I got a finger real wet, dropped my mouth back onto his cock, and touched my slick finger to his pucker at the same time I started sucking him hard.

His head dropped back, his belly tightened up, and he began to pump hard. Just as I felt his nuts lift, I slid my finger a little ways into his ass and jiggled it as he started to shoot. The `ahhhhh' became a steady wail and I swallowed repeatedly as his jerking cock blasted into the back of my throat. I kept my mouth on him, but eased off the pressure as he slowed down. He was shaking all over, his knees banging into my arms as I knelt there massaging his softening dick with my tongue. I finally slid my mouth slowly off him and sat back on my heels. His eyes opened slowly and I made sure he was watching me as I licked my lips and smiled at him.

"How was that?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He couldn't talk yet, but the expression on his face said it all, just as Vincent had predicted. His t-shirt was shoved partway up his chest, his jeans were around his ankles, and a blissful smile was widening his mouth. I watched him for a moment, thought 'fuck it', got to my feet, and kissed him. He wasn't expecting it, but he was still floating on that post-orgasmic high and he kissed me back. That surprised both of us and I broke the kiss before it could get too serious. While I figured he could rationalize a blow job between buddies, he wouldn't be able to get his head around kissing another man and I didn't want to lose him as a friend.

I turned away and straightened out my own throbbing cock that was struggling to get past the low waistband of my riding tights. When I heard Danny move away from the desk, I turned back to him. "Well?"

He stared at the floor for a long minute, then swallowed and lifted his eyes to mine. "I didn't know it could be that good. I ain't never cum like that in my life." He looked away and I realized what a difficult admission that was for a good old redneck Texas boy. I threw an arm around his shoulder and aimed us toward the door.

"Good luck," I called as he walked a not quite steady path to his truck. He lifted a hand to me as he drove out of the yard, the ghost of a smile still on his mouth. I wondered how many years would go by 'til he didn't think of me every single time he got blown. If Becky was as unskilled as he claimed, he'd probably always think of me. I shook my head and walked around my office 'til my cock calmed down, then went back to work.

Vincent was fascinated by the whole episode and made me recount it minute by minute that night over dinner. He'd never run across a cock like Danny's and had me describe it in detail, right down to how it felt in my mouth.

"Fat," I said, waggling my empty Dr. Pepper can at him. "And muscular," I added, crushing the can in my fist.

Vincent winced, then sighed wistfully. "Well, if he decides he needs another one, call me. I'd love a chance at that dick."

"Don't hold your breath," I told him. "He's thinking about getting married to a woman who thinks his equipment is disgusting."

Vincent looked properly horrified at that and we pondered for a while, the unfortunate things that people do to themselves. When we went up to bed, Vincent insisted on playing the part of Danny while I sucked his dick. He got to laughing so hard when I took only one nut at a time into my mouth, that I started giggling, too. Then we abandoned play-acting for the real thing, which was much more satisfying.

My first GP was the Fidelity Jumper Classic in Massachusetts; Vincent and I arrived on Thursday afternoon. He was fascinated with the decked out show grounds and wandered around while I checked in at the barn and worked out a schedule with Amanda's head groom, Carlos. Friday morning, I rode both horses around the practice course. Donna was as I remembered her, quiet and competent, but lacking the fire I liked in a jumper. Calvin was huge. I hadn't seen him in a while and he was all muscled out now from months of competition, sleek and sassy, shifting restlessly as Carlos gave me a leg up. I warmed him up with plenty of leg work, getting a few dressage moves out of him, wanting him supple and listening to me. It was early and not too many people were around yet, so I tried out my theory.

Some horses get hot in the ring and begin to rush the fences. Others are easier to rate, cantering from jump to jump in an orderly fashion. Cal was neither. He was always ready to go, but not necessarily in the direction of the next jump. I had pulled an old set of blinders out of my kit bag and fitted them onto his bridle before I mounted him. They restricted his line of sight to whatever I aimed him at, blocking his distracting peripheral vision. He shook his head a few times, but didn't seem to mind too much. As I cantered him in figure 8s, he settled into the job, steadying underneath me.

I worked him for an hour, getting used to him again, the way he moved, how quickly he could handle himself, then I turned him into a jump line consisting of a wide water jump, then five strides to a vertical. This is a tough combination because the horse needs speed to get cleanly over the water, but maintain control to clear the vertical without bringing down a bar. I turned him loose to the water and he pounded across the turf, clearing the 15' width by two feet. When I asked him to come back to me for the vertical, he shook his head once quickly, then slowed two strides from the jump and lifted over it with a foot to spare, his legs tucked cleanly under him, ears forward, looking like a horse who loved his job. I left the ring after that and winked at Carlos when he raised an eyebrow at me. I knew I was on to something.

I rode both of them a couple more times Friday and Saturday. Saturday afternoon was a charity event in which Amanda had entered both horses. I rode Donna to a respectable 2nd place, but let Calvin do his usual thing and ended up 9th with eight faults. He bucked on the way out of the arena, almost unseating me, and the crowd noise brought back a quick memory of the day I'd been hurt. On that day, the crowd had been on its feet, silent, as I was plucked from the wreckage of the jump and carted out of the arena on a stretcher. That was the last any of them had seen of me until now, and several people came by the barn to say `Hi' at the end of the day. Vincent smiled and watched from a chair by the tack room, getting up to shake hands now and then when I introduced him to someone who mattered enough to me to bother.

A few society women brought their daughters by to see if I was as eligible as I had looked in the ring. I made a point of introducing Vincent as my partner to these women, with an arm around his shoulders. It was a struggle to keep a straight face as comprehension crossed their features, followed by resignation, or disgust, depending on their beliefs. I'd never made any effort to hide my homosexuality when I had been competing before, but now that Vincent was in the picture, it was important to me that people were clear about who and what I was.

Adam came by and we made plans to hook up with him after dinner. We were all staying at the Sheraton, so that evening we had a drink in the bar, then went up to my room, talking about the various horses and riders entered in tomorrow's event. Vincent gave me a long look when Adam was taking a leak and I smiled back at him. When Adam passed by me on the way back to his chair, I grabbed his arm, pulling him down onto the couch next to me. "Wanna stay?"

Vincent grinned at him from where he lounged on the bed, and Adam slowly smiled at me. I kissed him while I tugged his shirt loose from his pants, unbuttoning it to run my hands over his chest. He was built a lot like me, same height, just a few pounds lighter, and touching him was eerily familiar sometimes. He pushed me back against the arm of the couch, making short work of my belt and zipper, kneeling between my legs to pull my dick free. I was just starting to get hard when he sucked me into his mouth, using his tongue to circle the head of my cock, lapping at my slit. Vincent climbed off the bed and stripped, stroking himself lightly as he watched Adam blow me. When Vincent shoved Adam's pants down to his knees I felt Adam slow a little, then Adam's moan vibrated around my cock as Vincent nibbled down his back, ending up in his ass.

Normally Adam gives pretty good head, but he was so distracted by Vincent's rim job that I finally slid out from under him, letting him collapse face first into the cushion with a long groan. I knelt on the floor next to them and took a dick in each hand, kissing the side of Vincent's face where it pressed into Adam's ass. I could see his mouth widen in a smile when I stuck my tongue in his ear, and he squinched his eyes shut, but he never slowed down on Adam. After several minutes, we were all hard and dripping and Vincent straightened up, flipped Adam over, and rubbed the tip of his cock up and down the slick valley of his ass. I reached for Vincent's cock and guided him in, feeling the slight resistance, stroking Vincent lightly as he sunk deeper.

As he began to thrust slowly, I swung a leg over Adam's chest, ending up with his tongue in my ass and me facing Vincent so we could kiss. I grabbed Adam's dick and stroked along with Vincent's movements, fondling his balls with my other hand. Adam was more with the program this time, giving my ass a good workout, and Vincent was putting some effort into kissing me. I couldn't decide which end of things felt best, so I quit thinking and just floated along enjoying the tongue duet.

As Vincent got close, he was breathing too hard to kiss me, so I climbed off Adam and started sucking him, Vincent's belly bumping the side of my face as he pumped. They got off about the same time and I stood up to shoot all over Adam's stomach as Vincent ran his hand up my leg to hold my balls.

We couldn't all fit in the hotel shower so we sort of staged our way through it, two of us in there at any one time. The bed was huge so we all piled in, Vincent in the center, since he wiggled the least in his sleep. I was starting to get edgy and ended up on the couch about 3am, staring out the window at the quiet city, a little hazy at this hour of the morning. I was so out of it that Vincent's hand on my shoulder made me jump.

"Hey, sweetheart. Got the jitters?"

I turned as he sat down behind me, curling up so my head was in his lap. He ran one hand through my hair while the other rubbed my butt. It was a soothing combination and I began to relax. He scooched down 'til we were mostly horizontal and we dozed until morning.

Adam was gone when we woke up, but he'd left a note wishing me luck. We had breakfast, dressed, and went out to the show grounds in plenty of time for me to get the horses warmed up and myself psyched to ride. Amanda was there, decked out in lots of diamonds and a huge hat. She gave me a big kiss, pinched my butt, and told me to ride my ass off.

Vincent kissed me, too, then Carlos tossed me onto Donna, and I was off to the warm-up ring. Donna was the 3rd horse to go with Calvin 12th so I had plenty of time to change horses. I cantered Donna slowly around, took a couple jumps and waited for my turn, trying to keep my breakfast down and deciding if I needed to pee one more time. Then the horse before me blew through jump 6, a huge triple bar spread, and withdrew. Suddenly the announcer was saying my name, the gate was opening in front of me, and I was entering the arena for my first competitive event in seven years.

I nodded to the judges' stand, circled Donna once, and galloped through the starting cones.

Warm thanks to David of Hope for commas and suggestions.

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