Date: Sun, 11 May 2008 19:08:57 -0500 From: fireflywatcher Subject: Short Grass Prairie,chapter 7 The usual disclaimers apply: if you are under eighteen or sexual content is illegal where you live, read no further. I, the author, reserve all rights to this original fiction story, unles I give written permission allowing it to be reproduced or published. Please write me with any comments or suggestions fireflywatcher@gmail.com I appreciate hearing from you and thank you for reading. Short Grass Prairie by fireflywatcher- Phil Ford Chapter Seven Bud Thornton was a very big man, much larger in stature than his sons. He sat in the dining chair with his hands folded across the high back rail with his legs spread on each side of the seat, listening. "Mama, you got to understand", Justin was pleading. "Me and Wes took Charlie to raise together. Neither of us is married and might never be", he hesitated seeing a familiar look in his mother's eye. "Anyways, that's just the way it is, so get used to it. He can have a grandma or he can do without. That's up to you." Bud rose and walked out the door. Wes, followed by Charlie, was right behind him. Charlie stomped his foot a little with each step so his spurs would jingle. "You'll learn I don't allow spurs in my house, grandson", Mrs. Thornton commented, settling the matter. Charlie stepped lighter until he passed through the threshold to the porch. "Yes, Ma'am", he answered. At six, Charlie was the spitting image of Wes from his hair and eye color to the curl of his locks that were also in need of a trim. Their red boots matched, too. "So, Charlie, are you going to be a Smith or a Thornton?", Bud asked. "Smith", Justin answered. "Thornton", Wes insisted. "I ain't got no kin and this boy lost his once already. There's plenty of Thorntons." "Me and Wes bought some land together, too. Jake Pearson loaned us the money and we'll pay him back when we have steers to sell", Justin added in. "A kid has to have a place to call home. He has forty acres was his dad's, but that ain't enough to scratch a living out of." "I'll cut you out a hundred heifers this fall", Bud replied, "But I talked with your uncles and we won't split this place to where a man can't make a good living. It would risk loosing the land. A couple of your brothers and some of your cousins need to follow your example or they won't get squat. What you going to call me kid?" "Is Pop OK?", Charlie asked. "It works for me", Bud told him. Wes climbed into his saddle and Bud passed Charlie to sit in front of him. "You be good for your Pop, Charlie and I'll bring you something from town next time I go." They rode a ways with Justin following. He reined in beside Wes, "I got to take those spurs off you, Charlie", Justin told him. "If you spur the horse on accident in his shoulders he'll buck you and Wes into the dirt right quick." Finishing, Justin moved to the other side and got the other spur off. "Hitting a horse's flanks or shoulders makes them buck every time." "I'll remember, daddy", Charlie told Jus. "I just knew that was going to go bad", Justin spoke. "Mama is a hard woman. She gets her mind set that something is going to be one way and there ain't no changing it. I need a damn drink!" Wes let the reins drop over the saddle horn, knowing the little mare would follow along with Justin's big sorrel. He gave Charlie a tight squeeze. "I would've moved if it took it, so you could keep Charlie", Wes said. "You and Charlie mean everything to me." Justin took a big swallow and handed the bottle to Wes. "It would've never come to that Wes. Mama would be the one loosing out", Justin assured him. "Daddy was sold on it, first sight. My brothers and sisters ain't got no kids yet. Charlie can ride with him, and fish, and hunt. He'll be round to the house wanting to take him off somewhere all the time. I could see it in his eyes." Wes took a slug and pushed the bottle back into Justin's hand. "Don't you let Pop talk you into chewing no tobacco", Wes said, looking down at Charlie. "Can't avoid that, Wes", Justin answered. "Have to spit in the water when you fish so the fish can't smell the man smell on the bait. The big old ones will stay away from the hook and you'll get a stringer full of little ones barely big enough to clean." "I won't chew it 'cept' when I'm fishing, Wes", Charlie answered him. It was Sunday and they'd just had Sunday dinner at the Thornton home. As they crossed at the rapids, the water only rose to the horses shins. After Justin was done at the dairy on Saturday, they'd spent the whole day carting rock to the new place, for a foundation on the house they were building. Charlie's little plot bordered the acreage along one side and they had moved to his house from the one near work so they could get a new house built. It would be a stone's throw from Charlie's, fed by the same windmill on the existing well there. It was a short walk back to the house. "After we change out of our good clothes, you can take the mare to Short Grass and play with the kids for a while if you want to, Charlie", Wes told him. "Just watch for snakes like I told you." "I will", Wes exclaimed excitedly. He was changed in a flash and led the mare over to the fence so he could climb into the saddle. He could reach the stirrups from the ground, but it was easier with a boost. "I'll be back before supper", Charlie assured them and rode off. Wes tendered while Justin set stones. Justin got his string lines up while Wes mixed the first batch of mortar. Justin had been at it for two weeks now, coming home after morning milking and starting a vat of cheese, setting stone all day until time for evening milking. Two of the orphan boys who were fourteen and fifteen were adding the rennet and blocking up the cut curds while he was gone. They'd set the house into the side of a hill where building a basement wouldn't take a lot of digging. The perimeter wall was up with a ledge to accept the floor timbers and several footings down the center to add supports. Wes kept a rough scaffolding made of straight willow and planks stretched in front of Justin to keep the work in easy reach. When he was caught up, Wes tried his hand at setting stone. Justin had tendered and learned from an old German who'd returned to the Thornton ranch three times, building for his dad. A couple of hours in the sun and hundred degree heat had Wes and Justin needing a cool down. A small spring fed creek passed by down below the house. It's flow was slowed to a trickle and the pond formed there was slight in comparison to the pond at Short Grass, but the pecan tree shade and the cool water did the trick. One flat rock hung out over the water and they sat on it dangling their feet in the pool. Wes propped himself on one elbow and traced a line between Justin's nipples in the damp chest hair. He lowered his lips suckling one and then the other. Justin moaned deep. "The milk comes from a little lower down", he told Wes. That was all the invitation Wes needed. He slipped down into the water and bent over to take Justin's member deep into his throat. It grew thicker and throbbed under Wes' assault. "God, you do that so good!", Justin exclaimed. Justin grasped Wes by the arm pits and pulled him up on top. After a brief kiss, Wes straddled Justin resting his knees on both sides and aimed Justin's tool toward his pucker. He eased back until Justin's short hair brushed against his cheeks. Justin strained to maintain their union as Wes ascended and descended above him. Finally as Wes splattered his milk across Justin's chest, his clenching pucker drew the crème from Justin inside him. "When I think our lovin' is the best I've had, you prove me wrong every time, babe", Justin told Wes. "You do it for me, too", Wes replied. "Let's get washed off. We've got supper for a hungry boy, to fix." Charlie spent the afternoon swimming, too, with Frank, Henry, and the other children new to the Short Grass family. Following that, I served them all some home made ice cream. He left carrying a pup in a bag, with it's head sticking out, looped around the saddle horn. He fell off once, scraping his knew, hoisted himself back into the saddle, and made it home while supper was still cooking. "I got a pup who needed a boy", Charlie proclaimed. "He's a working pup that herds cows, he ain't no freeloader." "Jim told you to say that, didn't he?", Justin asked. "Yep, he said this one's half trained and he's a real winner. He taught me the whistles, too", Charlie stated. "He said a boy with no dog just wasn't right, so we got to keep him." "Did he name him for you, too", Wes asked. "No, but I'm thinking on it. He said he's a border collie from some place far away. I'm thinking Cal would be a good name", Charlie admitted. They settled on teaching Charlie to hunt rabbits with a little .410 scattergun and feeding the pup leftovers if there were any. He'd be allowed to sleep on the foot of Charlie's bed if he was clean of fleas and did his business outside. After Charlie was asleep, the pup scratched on the front door, sat in front of it looking around, and scratched again before Wes noticed and let him out. Returning he scratched to be let in. Then he went front paws down lapping his tongue at the air, like saying thank you, and jumped back on the bed next to Charlie. It was the middle of July. Schools wouldn't start again in town until mid-September. Courts and businesses cut their schedules back to escape the heat. Sam, Harlan, Rufus, their wives and children, stayed at their ranch houses. Amy stayed as well unless Nate needed her and Nate did his rounds starting at the ranch only going in to town twice a week to check on patients there. Two older orphan boys, who'd chosen to live on their own, sat the desk at the offices acting as runners to fetch Nate or Amy if there was an emergency. Rich carried messages to the other men as needed when he did his sales route. The two boys stayed in a loft apartment at Nate's carriage house during the week and went to their home on weekends. They were brothers, fifteen and fourteen at the time. Charlie had need of a horse of his own because the men , their wives, and the now middle aged tutor who'd taught them as kids were playing a game of catch-up in the education of all the ranch children for what remained of the summer. Wes bought a horse off of Arch and Lance. It's demeanor and temperament being unknown, Wes rode the new horse to travel to work and home, leaving Charlie use of the little mare. He would rise every morning with Wes and Justin and ride to Sara's for lessons. At noon they quit for the day and he rode home. Cal waited on the porch as he left and ran to greet him as he returned. Justin would get the tack and saddle off the mare and they'd have lunch together. Justin usually fixed supper while he made lunch and ate, so it would be ready and Wes could help on the house. Charlie did his best to tender, mixing smaller batches of mortar in the wheelbarrow and lugging stones small enough for him to carry. Cal sat and watched everything. Sometimes he'd take off after a rabbit and sometimes he caught it, bringing it back for Charlie to kill. He'd snap the neck back and the rabbit would let out one last cry. When Wes would arrive a little after three and take over tendering, Charlie and Cal went rabbiting in earnest. He'd give Cal a hand signal to stay back, raise the scattergun and take aim. The shot jolted him some and he'd whisper to Cal, "get him" and Cal would dash after the rabbit and pounce on it grabbing it by the back of the neck. Charlie might get a clean shot. Other times he might just hit it with a few pellets or even miss. The sound of the shot and the pellets hitting around it gave the rabbit a momentary shock, just enough for Cal to reach it and grab hold. Charlie would tie the dead creature on a strand of rope attached to his belt and it was on after the next rabbit they spotted. Between the boy and the pup, they never came back empty handed. Justin joked, "We don't need no cows or chickens, Charlie and Cal can keep us fed good on rabbit", but it wasn't far from the truth. Justin stopped at five to do the evening milking. It went faster with the new help and he'd be back by seven thirty for supper. Sometimes Wes set some stones. Other times he stopped and went to the house with Charlie. Each evening before bed, Justin and Wes went over what he'd learned in school that morning. He was a sponge and well ahead of his age group before he even started regular school. With the stonework done, framing the walls, porch, and roof went fast. Then the roof tiles went down with three nails in each one, the bottom layer turned up and the top layer turned down and a cap of wider tiles along the ridge. When windows and doors were in, it was weather tight. The house resembled the small house at Short Grass but had the conveniences of one forty years newer. When September came, Sara had grown to love teaching the children so much she, the other wives and the tutor, decided to continue teaching at the ranch and only taught at the college part of the time. Ellen and Louise were in town on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Mr. Johnson and Sara attended to their other duties on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Amy would teach the sciences and Rufus, being the engineer, would teach the higher maths, all doing this while continuing to work at their jobs full time. Of all the other children now at Short Grass, Charlie had taken to Frank and Henry right off. When all the men went to help Wes and Justin get their fall grain planted, Charlie stayed with Frank and Henry. He slept over sometimes and they both went home with him for the night occasionally. He saw all of the children everyday, but he choose to be with Frank and Henry. If Bud Thornton came to take Charlie fishing, they went by and got Frank and Henry to come along, and Bud showed up like clockwork. When Thanksgiving time came around we had all decided to go north to the Comanche land, taking the children to get them on the rolls as Comanche, adopted or not. It was a matter of family even if the only Comanche blood passed on was through Nate and Sam. Charlie finagled his way along. Tanned from running around in the sun all summer, with almost black curly hair, it was easier to believe he was Comanche than the two cotton headed boys he came with. Swift agreed to put him down as a brother if he'd learn Comanche as Frank and Henry were doing. We took a whole train car, a Pullman, to avoid any problems and John had the crew meet us with wagons for the ride to the ranch. All the men had taken special care to make the best Comanche buckskin clothes for us to attend the fall moon festival. I was a little embarrassed being dressed as I was but when a boy asked me in English, why I dressed as Comanche, I answered him in Comanche that I did it for my son, my grandson, my granddaughter, and my partner. Amy had had her baby a month earlier, a little girl she named Kate. The boy smiled and ran off into the crowd. The weather hadn't turned really cold yet. It was mild in the daytime and perfect for sleeping at night, but the water was too cold for swimming. Swift and I found the men he'd seen in June, gathered in the same area and doing the same business. Paired or in groups, they were sharing the pleasure of their bodies. Since the children were running around in the main camp, we joined in on the fun. I spread a blanket. Leaves were gone from the willows, leaving only shadow where the branches crossed above me. A line of cedars and evergreen shrubs blocked the area from view. I began taking off my buckskins down to the loin pouch below as Swift joined me. A friend with him was already stripped down and Swift did as I had. The three of us stretched out across the blanket, leisurely. "This is Horse", Swift told me, "We knew each other well and met at many festival gatherings when we were younger." My pouch began to swell in anticipation. I propped myself up on my elbows and we greeted each other with just a nod. I'd been showing off my naked butt and turned over to display the bulging pouch. "You could have saved me", a younger man shouted at me, pounding his chest with his fists. "You and Andrew, you could have saved me!" "He's crazy you know", Horse told us as the man continued to shout. "I give him food sometimes so he'll go away." "I don't know you", I told the man. This was not the activity I expected for the afternoon. "You know me", he insisted. "I was with Andrew when he took us to the fort on the Concho. You looked at me and you knew." "This Andrew, was he a soldier?", I asked. "Yes, a captain", he replied. "I was still a boy of fourteen summers. He said he loved me and he left to bring the others here. He never came back. It was the year after the buffalo died." I did remember the soldiers, but did I remember the boy? I was young, too. If I noticed him, it was his looks that attracted me and once he was gone, he was forgotten. Swift and I had Nate. Only twenty remained of the winter camp band. It was so long ago. "Maybe I do remember", I confessed. "What could I have done to save you and what did you need saving from?" "I told you he is crazy", Horse repeated. "We come to this place to share our pleasure and he wants to spoil it all. He has land like everyone else. It grows grass and rabbits. He has no house. He wanders among us begging and crying. It is enough!" Horse shouted the last of his words and the man ran away in fear for his life. Horse was of the same stature as Swift and I. His name did betray one of his physical traits though, he was hung. My experience was confined to the men of the ranch. Size varied but none were extremely big. I was fascinated by his prong. I tried taking it down my throat and at the same time, he swallowed Swift and Swift engulfed mine. We formed a circle of sorts on the blanket. Before we spurted, Swift thrust himself inside me from the rear and Horse plugged him. Shifting again after a few minutes, I was feeling Horse's monster working it's way inside me. Teat balm helped. More teat balm did more. Feeling the tickle of his short hairs on my ass cheeks, I commented, "If you got that beast inside me, take him for a ride", and he began a long stroke, pounding it to me. Swift worked Horse from the rear at the same time. I learned my mistake. As Horse drove in, I found I couldn't draw a full breath, just small gasps of air passed to my lungs. I felt completely filled up inside. The effort put a strain on Horse, too. Sweat poured down his brow and his moans were either agony or ecstasy, indiscernible to my ears. He sawed back onto Swift and plunged forward into me. The smell of sweat and sex and masculinity filled my nostrils. Horse began a circular motion with his hips. I knew Swift was overwhelmed by this because I heard the moans he made that signaled his approaching climax. For me, the sensation was so intense I thought I'd pass out. I had no escape. My chest was to the ground and my hips held firmly in the air, with over four hundred pounds of man flesh creating the momentum. I don't know who went first. I felt Horse bite into the back of my neck and his pulse inside me as I spurted the largest load of my life, spilling it on the blanket beneath me. At that instant Swift began screaming out about his own orgasm. I lost count of the pulses I felt and those I emitted. We tumbled to blanket as it subsided and lay motionless for some time. "You bit me!", I exclaimed. "A stallion always bites the mares neck. At least I didn't draw blood", Horse replied. "I guess I owe you a bite, then", Swift joked. "Bite me twice the next time you breed me", Horse answered. We lay where we fell with Horse in the center. After a few minutes three young men, in their late teens, took up the challenge and began slurping and licking on our flaccid members. It wasn't long, with their determined attentions, before we were hard and ready to go again. The center boy was constantly watched by the two servicing me and Swift. It took quite a while but all three were rewarded with a load, if somewhat smaller, of our crème. All told, it was just a little over an hour after we began our fun. We dressed and walked back to the main camp with Horse. "What's the crazy man's name?", I asked Horse. "Coyote, you know, like the trickster in the Comanche legends. When I feed him, I usually fuck him. He's got a great ass. I let him stay at my place a lot. I feel sorry for him. I even like him a little when he's not acting crazy. Mostly he's normal. Things set him off." "What was it Jim was supposed to save him from?", Swift asked. "That Captain Andrew left him at Fort Concho. Ten to fifteen soldiers made him their whore. They'd fuck him until he was bleeding and he was just a boy", Horse explained. "They kept him there for two years. One night they damn near beat him to death. They drug him out of the fort and dumped him in a ditch. Then they pissed all over him. When he could get up, he started walking north and didn't stop until he got here. Andrew was no where to be found. I didn't speak but a few words of English then and I tried asking, but no one knew who this Andrew was from what I could tell." "I was supposed to save him from that?", I questioned. "How would I have known?" "He probably figured you could of let him stay. You said Swift and the winter camp Comanche were there. He wishes he'd had a choice. He does the same wishing with me right now, then he gets crazy. I've got my sister's kid to raise. He's eight. I've had him since he was two and a rattler got her. I've been afraid he'd get crazy and hurt the kid", Horse confided. His place is next to mine so he thinks he don't need no house. I run him off and find him sleeping on my porch. He ain't hurt the kid or anyone, yet." "Why don't you come south with us and bring Coyote and the boy? The change might do some good for all three of you", Swift asked. "I could. I'd need to get my cows looked after, but I could", Horse answered. "We got a foreman and cowboys working for us here", I responded. "They could watch over your cattle, too." "I'll think on it", Horse told us. We found Nate and Amy with the grandkids, along with Frank, Henry, and Charlie, sitting beside Coyote and Horse's nephew, listening to the medicine men tell the Comanche legends. The oldest man would tell a part and Coyote would translate the story. I saw a different man before me. He was quiet and gentle as he held the boy and retold the words. The three of us eased in behind them and sat down on the ground. The medicine man was just finishing the story of how Coyote released the buffalo into the world from a corral where they were penned up by a powerful being named Humpback. He's transformed himself into a dog and was taken in as a pet by Humpback's son. The medicine man ended by saying all the buffalo were gone from the world again and maybe it was another trick Coyote had done, that they might be hidden away from the white men. "We have three thousand buffalo", Swift informed him. "They were caught as calves and nursed by cattle before the buffalo were gone. We keep them safe." "It is a wonderful thing you have done", the medicine man replied. "And this is your son, here, taught the ways of white man's medicine?" "Yes, Yes,", Swift answered. "I told you about him at the summer moon. This is his white father, Jim. We are both his father." "I have told him about Comanche medicine all day. I need to teach him more before I die", the medicine man told us. "Our medicine doesn't work anymore, only the white man's, but things change. One day ours may work and theirs may not. You need to take more of our sons and teach them the white medicine. Too many have died." "I will do my best, grandfather", Swift promised. The old man rose slowly using a staff and moved toward his shelter. "I'm too tired to tell any more legends today", he said. "Maybe tomorrow I'll be rested enough to tell some more." Coyote hadn't translated after the story ended. It had been a private conversation, then. Even Nate had lost a lot of the words somewhere while growing up in an English speaking world. I lacked the fluency, too. Coyote, Horse, Swift, and Mark, Horse's nephew were the only ones present who understood the words. "We'll see him again tomorrow", Swift told us. "It's time to head back to the ranch anyway. Horse, Do you and your nephew, and Coyote want to ride to the ranch for the night? I know some food will be ready when we get there and there's plenty of room." "Sure", Horse replied. "I'd love to see the place." The road through the reservation lands was much rougher than the one that went into Lawton. It was slow moving in wagons where single mounts could have traversed the distance with ease. As sunset approached the cool late fall temperatures dropped considerably and the group was feeling the chill when they reached the ranch. John and Walt had gone to the several houses and gotten fires lit to warm the interior spaces. Smoke from the burning oak logs wafted through the air before the houses were in sight. The sounds of pounding hooves, jingling tack, and the jarring they endured over the bumpy course, stifled conversation. Even the invincible spirit of joy within the children was held back in silence. When the delicate smells of various foods entered the mix of aromas, hope arose and chatter drowned out all the other sounds. "We fixed the place up pretty good", Swift told Horse as he held a tight grip on the reins. "Jim and Jake got everything started down south. The twenty of our band that were left could have stayed there, but only Arch and Lance did in the end. Four of us and Luis had been there for a year already. We missed the slaughter of the buffalo and I'm grateful for that." "Hell, you couldn't ride far enough or fast enough to get away from the stench", Horse informed him. "It was like the herds. It stretched as wide as the sky. There weren't no doubt whites were monsters seeing it." "Not all of them are monsters", Swift responded. "Well, you know what I mean", Horse answered him. "Ranchers are pretty much like the Comanche. We kind a herded the buffalo same as they herd cattle. Two bunches of a like mind, 'cept the way we thought, we didn't own the buffalo, just shared this world with them." "Whoa", Swift called to the team, reining them in toward the barn. "Ya'll go on and get inside", John told them all. "We'll get the teams penned and you can get warmed up and eat. There's a fine spread laid out for you on the bunkhouse table. Now git!" I didn't hesitate. I'd been holding Charlie and somehow he'd managed to fall asleep during the ride. I guess he was tuckered out from playing all day. I stepped over into the buckboard from the wagon bed with him cradled under one arm and took the step down to the ground. "Are we there?", Charlie asked, stirring to stretch in my arms. "Yeah. You hungry?", I asked. "Wes says I can eat a full meal after I just had one. He says I'm going to grow to seven feet tall the way I eat", Charlie answered. We enter the door and I dropped him to his feet. "What they got fixed, Henry?", he asked. "Everything! I even see some Mexican stuff like Luis fixes", Henry replied, "But no ice cream." "They ain't got ice here", I informed them. "You should get 'em a machine", Charlie told me, "Got to have ice, you know." The adults held back to allow the kids to fill their plates and get seated. Before I got a plate to fill, Charlie came back to me. "Pull, Jim! I want to see if I get a wish!" He held out the pulley bone and I took the other end between two fingers. Pop! It went. Charlie held it up and said, "See!, I get my wish!", and went back to his plate at the table. "You got it all over there", John commented, coming in to join us. "Them women teamed up and fixed most of it. Me and Walt did the Mexican dishes, Oscar's wife Frenchie did the Cajun, Ben and his wife both fixed the Black folks food, and Willie's wife is half Sioux so she did some Indian fare. It's worth eating a small amount of each dish so you have room for some of everything." "Oh man! I've died and gone to heaven!", Chance exclaimed. He and Jake were circling the sideboard, plate in hand, sampling one thing at a time and never taking a seat at the long table. Swift and I, and Sara, followed their example. "I got to shake my hollow leg every little bit to make more room", Jake joked. "This ambrosia is better than mama's was. That is the best corn bread dressing I ever had, too." "You ate before?", I asked John. "Yeah, we all ate together at dinner. Everyone took some home for supper and we laid out this spread for ya'll when you got home", he related. "Me and Walt waited supper for you." The beds had been brought up from other houses to give enough sleeping space in the three houses at the main compound by the bunkhouse and barns. All of us didn't come, so there was extra space, still. Luis and I hung around with John and Walt to wash up and put everything away. There was ice in fact, delivered once a week in blocks for the boxes. We'd put a serious dent in the food provided but some remained to be put away. Then the four of us sat a while drinking coffee with a splash of the single malt and a slice of pecan pie. "If you can ride with us in the morning", I told John, "I need to show you where Horse's place is located. He hasn't answered us yet but we asked him to come back to the rach with us for a while. I need ya'll to see to his cattle and check on his place while he's gone." "I'm retired from the crew so I ain't got nothing better to do", John replied. "I'll be here hitching up the wagons anyway." "You could ride on and see the Winter Moon, but his place is between here and there or so he says", I offered. "If he'll go, I'll come along, too", Walt added, and they decided to take the trip. When I crawled in bed with Swift, I observed that Horse and Coyote were much closer than I'd thought before. They slept in the other bed placed in our room. They snuggled and kissed for a while and perhaps assuming I was asleep, began to make love. It was a pretty hot and steamy business going on in their bed. The moonlight lit the room well enough for me to get a view of Horse's impressive tool in action, from a viewpoint different that being on the receiving end. Horse leaned against the headboard, legs spread, with Coyote grasping his hips. Coyote was looking up into Horse's eyes and he would slide the full length into his throat, gliding his body across the bed with each stroke, and Horse remaining motionless. Swift was watching too, I found out, when he slipped his prong up my ass. Somehow the show made our lovemaking better. When Horse scooted his hips forward and Coyote mounted him wrapping his legs around Horse's waist, I could see the full length moving in and out. Their mouth's stayed fused together through the whole ride. I faced back toward Swift and he filled my mouth with his tongue, but kept his rhythm going. My hand was kneading my dick like a batch of dough and when I filled my palm as I spurted, I offered it to Swift and he gulped it down. He started throbbing inside me and we fell asleep joined. (continued in chapter eight)