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M/M M/b M/t Gay Incest Anal Oral )
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2004/2005 ~ Waddie Greywolf
Casey Longhorn ~
“Why, the Hell,
would you even consider such a thing? Goddamn it, Son,— sometimes, I
just don’t understand you a’tall! Shit, boy! You be
think’n like a crazy man; almost as crazy as that looney old coot you
wanna’ meet up with! All you’ll be doin’ is openin’ up a can a’
worms what’ll come back to haunt you, and take a big chomp out a’ your
ass. Trust me,— no good will come of it, and it could mean a world of
hurt for you’n me both! Mark my words,— you just wait’n see,
And,— if’n he
hurts you half as bad as he did me, I’m gonna’ wanna’ go an’ kill the
son of a bitch! If the good Lord can forgive me for kill’n Charlie in
Nam, he’ll shore’ as Hell forgive me for re-tire’n his tired old ass a
little early! However, society may not, and then you’d have
ta’ come visit your old man on death row in prison. Would ja’
I just smiled at
him and slowly shook my head, ‘no.’
Damn it all to
Hell, Casey,— I wish’t I’d a’ never told ‘ju ‘bout that worthless
old curmudgeon! I should a’ just told ju’ he died! He ain’t no
damn good, no how! That old hardheaded bastard,— he ain’t never
gonna’ change his way a’ think’n! He’s got his hypocritical head so far
up Jesus’s butt he couldn’t see the light of God Almighty if’n he was
stand’n in two buckets full of it up to his boot tops and Jesus took a
fart!” shouted my dad to me as he slammed his hands down on the arms
of his wheelchair.
I tried hard not
to laugh. God knows I tried ‘cause I knew how serious he was, so
I remained silent out of respect for my old man; however, inside I was
laughing my ass off at his outburst of anger. Dad always could find the
most colorful words to make his point when he was venting anger.
“It’s all right,
Dad,— no, really,— it’s okay! Don’t feel like ya’ haf’ta hold
back none! Lemme’ know how you really feel.” I joked with
him and at least got a smile out of him.
“Fuck you,— you
asshole! I’m dead serious about this, cowboy, and you know
it!” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “‘Sides,— I done
raised ju’ up better’n ‘nat! Some things in life you just
have to accept as they are! Y’ain’t never gonna’ change that old
fart! What da’ ya’ think? Ya’ gonna’ waltz up to him, stick
out chur’ hand and say, ‘Howdy, Granddad! I’m Casey, your only
grandkid you never knew about. Oh, yeah,— and, by the way,— I’m a
“I just ain’t a’
gonna’ tell ‘em.” I replied, “I ain’t gonna’ tell him nothing
‘bout me. Tell me,— how’s he gonna’ know I’m even related to
him? You done went and had our name changed before I was born;
even before you’s shipped to Nam. I don’t carry his name."
“Listen to me, cowboy! My old man may be a lot of things, but he shore'
as Hell ain’t stupid. All it ‘ud take is for him to look into them damn
violet eyes of your’n to know some-um ain’t kosher in Denmark. He
give you them violet eyes. Runs in the Langtry family. I
didn’t get ‘um but your Uncle Seth had ‘em just like our dad!
So’d yore’ Great-aunt Lillie. Your Great-granddad was her brother. Now,
you tell me,— how many cowboys you run into out there what got violet
“So, it’s a coincidence.” I tossed off. My dad responded with a snort.
He wasn’t buying it. "Look, Dad, I
know the whole story. You told it to me about a hunner’t times.
How you got momma pregnant with me when you’n her was only sixteen.
Then, after granddad caught chu’ and Bubba Swanzey suck’n each
others dicks in the barn he kicked you out. You joined the
Marines and got sent to Nam. He got so angry at you he kicked you
out of his life, but nobody can stay angry forever, Dad. It
takes a Hell of a lot more energy to be angry with someone than to
forgive. ‘Sides that, you married momma a‘for you went to Nam and
granddad and grandma had you when they was only sixteen. Two
years later they had Uncle Seth.
cut you out of his life, you got pissed at him and cut him off
completely when you went and changed our name. How do you know he ain’t
felt bad about what he done to ya’ and tried to contact you? How
could he? He don’t know our name. Your younger brother, my Uncle
Seth, went an’ got hisself killed in Nam. Granddad’s gotta’
be a lonely old man. I’m twenty-one so he’s gotta’ be
fifty-three. That’s pretty damn old! He might not live a lot
longer. I might not have another chance. Look, Dad,— I just
wanna’ meet him, be around him for a while, get to know him, see what
kind of man he is, and judge for myself. He don’t haf’ta know who
bullshit! Who you think you’re talk’n to, boy? You never could
keep no damn secrets. Them folks you tell it to can’t
neither!” Dad laughed at me. “You tried for years to keep it from
me you had a hitch in your get-a-long; you liked rodeoing with the boys
a little bit better’n the girls. Hell, I done know’d it from the
time I come back from Nam my boy was gonna’ like his vice, versa!
Didn’t make me no never mind, but your momma and I talked about it.
She know’d it
a’for I did. Mother’s know that sort of thing about their sons.
She just figured you was chip off the old block. Hell fire, I
guess it was me what give ya’ the damn gene. I won’t deny I shore found
ole Bubba’s dick mighty tasty. Yore’ momma knew about that, too. Ain’t
too much you can hide from folks in a small West Texas town. She
didn’t care, but I never had nothing to do with another man after I
came back from Nam. I was faithful to your mom, Son.
I remember the
first night you sucked my dick after yore’ momma died. You was
feeling scared and all alone, so you asked to sleep with me a couple of
nights. You done thought I was asleep one night, but I was a’ playing
possum to see what you’d do. After driving me nuts for more’n an hour
lick’n and a’ suck’n on my balls you finally decided to get down to the
main course and wrapped chur’ pretty little lips around my stiff dick.
Thought I was gonna’ pass out for sure.
T’was like them
pearly gates parted for me and I passed on through. Surprised the
Hell out a’ me! For a kid, so young, you weren’t too damn shabby
neither! Got me old cock off quicker’n shit through a
goose! Swallowed ever’ bit a’ my cowboy spunk right down like a
pro. I was right proud of ya, boy. I done figured if my boy was
gonna’ like to suck a man’s dick, I didn’t never want him being called
no lousy Goddamn cocksucker!” I cringed at dad’s candor, he took a
sideways glance at me and chuckled. "Over the years, you’ve
gotten a Hell of a lot better; you’ve only improved and to be honest
with ya,’ boy, I don’t know’s your old man can give you up that long to
go rodeoing after a dream that may never come true. ‘Sides that,
you're gonna’ miss your old man’s warm mouth wrapped around your big,
fine taste’n cowboy dick and knock’n on your pretty little back door
during the middle of a long winter’s night.”
Dad shifted in
his chair and laughed at my uneasiness. Then, he grinned at me with his
patented West Texas shit-eating grin, winked and I knew the next words
out of his pie hole would be pure, unadulterated bullshit.
the one what done turned your poor old man into a full blown,
gin-U-wine, gold plated, butt-fuck’n faggot! Now, you’s gonna’ go
running off to ride the circuit and take away from me the warmest mouth
and tightest little asshole I ever did fall asleep in. Thanks, one
whole Hell of a lot, buckaroo, for think’n ‘bout chur’ dear old
dad! You done went and created this monster; now, you wanna’ lock
him in his cage and have the neighbors feed him while you go play
cowboy? I don’t think so!” Dad tried like Hell to keep a straight face;
however, when he glanced up at me to see if I was buying any of it, he
broke out and roared with laughter.
Casey! You know how much I love ya!’ God as my witness, boy, I
loved yore’ momma; however, in many ways, you be the one what done
taught me what love is all about. I won’t never deny that. I know
you would love to meet your grandpa. If he were different I would be
the first to take you by the hand to meet him; but, he ain’t! We
don’t need that old bastard in our lives, Son. He’s nothing but
trouble. He’s tomorrow’s bad news come early. I’m just so damn proud of
who you are today and what we mean to each other, I’m afear’d of losing
it and you, Son.”
his bullshit, I knew my old man had genuine concerns, was frightened
for us, and he was hurting.
“Come go with
me, Dad. I’d love to have you along. There’s plenty of room in
the new motorcoach I bought last fall. Let’s hire someone to run
the ranch. Come rodeo with me, Dad. You’n me, we’s partners, Dad.
Together, ain’t nobody what can beat us with a rope. We done won
ever’ damn rope’n competition in the western states, ‘cep’n
Texas. I understand why y’ain’t never wanted to ride in Texas.
That’s okay, but I wanna’ try my hand on the circuit, pa. Grow a
beard, Dad. On a slim chance we should run into granddad, he
wouldn’t recognize you today. With you as my partner we could go
all the way, Dad. We may not have another chance.
You get around
on them store bought legs of yours real good. Don’t nobody even
know you had your legs blown off in Nam. Hell, I ain’t never seen
me no sexier walk than you got when you wear them legs what’s got your
big, cowboy boots attached to ‘em. You walk, for all the world,
like any other genuine buckaroo on the circuit. Can’t nobody
tell. The only time you use that damn wheelchair is when we’re home
relaxing.” I grinned at him, “I always did kind a’ like you in
that chair ‘cause you can’t get away from me when I got me the
honggries for some good, hot cowboy dick.” I roared with laughter
as my old man waggled a finger at me and raised an eyebrow in mock
disgust. “Hell, it was you what taught me to rope and ride, Dad.
You ride as good as I do with them artificial legs. You taught me
to be a champion, Dad? Something I couldn’t a’ learnt from nobody
but a champion.”
My dad looked at
me with the greatest love in his eyes, blinked back a tear, and hung
“I ain’t half
the man you are, Son.” He said softly.
“What the Hell
you talk’n about, old man? When I’m a’ laying out, underneath
you, you’re up on them stubs with that big, buckaroo dick a’ yours sunk
six fathoms deeper in my ass than the Titanic lays on the ocean
bottom, just a’ fuck’n me like an untamed bronc with a burr
under its saddle, you shore be a’ fool’n me you ain’t half the man I
am! My old man’s the only man who ever fucked me so good I stay
fucked maybe four to six days afterwards. I’ve marked ‘em
off on a calendar. Ever’ morning I get up, look at myself in the
mirror, and if’n I’s still got that silly fuck’n smile on my face, I
know I’m good for another day or two. After my dad fucks me,— I know’d
I been fucked by a man; my old man; the best old man a buckaroo could
That got him
laughing again as I went to him and grabbed me a big ole handful of
cowboy-dad dick through his Wranglers. He whooped like he was
about to be scalped.
“Get away from
me you pre-vert!” he yelled in laughter, “You ain’t a’ gettin’ no
in-between meal snacks, neither! Spoil your dinner! When you come
sniff’n ‘round after my dick, I better hear me some heartfelt begging
about how you’s got yoreself some powerful honggries for a taste of the
sweetest cowboy dick you ever had melt in your mouth. I shore as
Hell don’t know about all that other nonsense you been talk’n ‘bout,
but I know fer damn sure you inherited another one a’ my genes.”
that, old man?”
gene!” He roared with laughter. “Damn!” he continued, “I think
you got a double dose of it, Son! What don’t come out chur’ ass,
comes out your mouth!”
old man, I learn't it from a champion!" I retorted.
We were both
laughing so hard I got the hiccups. I couldn’t stop.
ass! I got chore' champion!" he grinned as he grabbed his big cowboy
dick though his Wranglers. "Com’mer, boy! I's got just the
cure for them hiccups.”
I moved in front
of his wheelchair still hiccuping.
“On yer’ knees,
asshole!” He ordered me.
I love it when
my dad talks dirty to me and orders me about. He grabbed me by
the back of my head and roughly pulled my face into him until my nose
was buried deep into his crotch. I could only smell his masculine odors
and his massive cock hidden beneath the denim of his Wranglers.
boy!” He barked at me. “That’s the smell of the man what loves
you! You think about how much you wanna’ please your old man;
think about how far down that tight little cowboy throat of yours
you’re gonna’ take your old man’s dick tonight; think about his cock
being the sacred tool what created you, boy, and I guaran-damn-tee ya,’
them hiccups will vanish.”
I took in
several deep breaths of my dad’s signature masculine smell. Dad never
used perfumed soaps or deodorants of any kind, but he would sometimes
use his favorite Aqua Velva after shave; nevertheless, he always had a
clean, virile, deep musky odor about him that would drive me crazy even
when he simply passed by me and I’d get just the faintest whiff of
him. Damned if he wasn’t right. Sure enough, ‘them’ hiccups
* * * * * * *
If you haven’t
gotten the message by now, my dad was my personal hero. He was a
simple man of the Earth who found himself in a world in transition
between good and evil. He did his best at what he could do to
make change, but he stood fast in the face of wrong. He wouldn’t
allow the insidious evil or oppression of his personal freedoms under
the name of false, misplaced, abusive religious piety, or unholy,
self-serving righteousness, to sway him from his deeper beliefs in
love. He gave his all for his country and never began to question
until after he’d done what he saw as his duty.
My Uncle Seth
followed his beloved brother and joined the Marines. I never met Uncle
Seth. He was killed his second week in Nam; a week after I was
born. His old man, my granddad, let his youngest son march
to his death without ever telling him he loved him. A year later, a
land mine blew my dad’s legs off at the knees and he returned a
hero. Dad was awarded several purple hearts and a bronze star for
heroism. Even though his legs were blown off he was the platoon
leader and managed to pull himself to others more wounded than
himself to offer help and comfort. Since dad changed his name before he
left, my granddad never knew.
He returned to
the States and the VA fitted him with two artificial legs he learned to
use almost as well as his real ones. He taught himself to walk
with little or no noticeable affectation to his stride. He
learned he could still ride a pony and once again took up the passion
of his youth: team roping. Through the G.I. bill he went to a community
college and learned how to become a successful rancher. Again,
through the G.I. bill, he financed a small ranch. Even though dad and
my mother worked for the first several years at other jobs they were
soon able to quit and run the ranch full time. We lived on the
ranch outside of San Diego for most of my life. Dad and I are still
My mom got
cancer and died when I was fourteen. It was a blow for both dad
and me. I had all ready begun to go through puberty and quickly
realized no one could ever top the sexual fascination I developed for
my dad. I would jack off two or three times a day thinking about
all the wonderfully nasty things I could do with him if I had the
chance. The fact he had his legs cut off at the knees never entered my
mind. He was always that way as long as I could remember.
He was my dad and he kept his body in top physical condition. He
neither smoked nor drank and ranch work was a lot of hard, physical
work most of the time.
My dad was a
tall, six foot four, lean, strong, masculine cowboy. He loved the
idea of being a Western man and he worked hard to perfect the
image. For me, he became the epitome of what a cowboy rancher
should look and act like. He was good hearted, generous to a
fault, and tried to help his neighbors when he could. He was
always truthful with me and treated me as a beloved companion rather
than strictly as a son.
One night, about
a month after my mom passed away, I couldn’t sleep. I would cry
myself to sleep, but I didn’t want my dad to know. I wanted to be
strong for him. I knew his heart was broken and if it hadn’t have
been for me, I think he would’ve given up. He knew he had to keep
going for me. I woke up and found my pillow and bed around my head was
soaking wet. I knew I’d cried a little before I went to sleep but
not enough to soak my pillow and upper portion of my mattress.
thought crossed my mind; did I wet the bed? But, I couldn’t have,
could I? It wasn’t wet around my waist and even though my dad taught me
to sleep in the raw my dick wouldn’t be able to piss so high it soaked
my pillow. I was baffled. I was also a little
frightened. I didn’t know what was going on and I never felt more
alone in my life. I got up from my bed and slowly walked to my
He always left
his door open so he could hear me call out to him in the night if I was
frightened or needed him for anything. It was a full moon lit
night and I could see everything in the room clearly. I
quietly walked up to his bed and stood there silently as I watched him
sleep. It was a warm summer night and he was sleeping in the raw with
no sheet or cover over him.
He was laying on
his back breathing softly. His enormous dick lay up and to the
left of his stomach and his huge balls hung loosely between his massive
thighs. I could see the two stumps of his legs stopping at just
below his knees. It didn’t bother me his legs weren’t
normal. He was my dad. He was perfect like he was. I
stood for the longest time marveling at his beauty.
He didn’t shave
as much as when mom was alive. Since it was only the two of us and a
couple of ranch hands he’d go several days without shaving and began to
look pretty scruffy after a while. He would usually shave once or
twice a week. He said it saved him time. I thought his several
days worth of beard made him so virile looking he would keep my dick
hard for days until he shaved.
My dad was
beyond gorgeous. He was a God to me. I would’ve worshiped at his
feet,— and, over the years, have done so many times. As I was standing
there I knew my feelings for him were overwhelming all my senses.
I could even smell his clean masculine odor and my dick began to get
hard. The longer I stood there the harder it got. I had to
play with myself. This was too sensual to be able to privately
look upon my personal God and have such an erotic moment without
manipulating myself. I began to slowly jack myself off and really
wasn’t paying much attention to dad. I threw back my head and was
really getting into my fantasies of him and me together while only
allowing myself to glance upon the beauty of my God enough to trigger
another wave of sexual excitement through my body. Finally I
allowed myself one good look of drinking all of him in, when I
got a shock. Dad was laying on his side propped up on his elbow
watching me. He was smiling at me.
He asked softly with concern in his voice. “You all right, Son?”
playing with myself immediately and ran from the room in
embarrassment. I flew to my bed in tears and lay there crying my
heart out. Dad had a way of whistling real loud using two of his
fingers when he wanted me for something. He taught me never to
ignore his whistle. It was a signal for me to come to him
immediately in case he needed me in an emergency. I was deep into
my pillow when I heard his whistle. My first thought was he tried
to get to his wheelchair, fell to the floor and couldn’t get up. No
matter how embarrassed I was or how much I was hurting that was our
signal my dad needed me. I hit the floor on a run for his room, ran
through the door and over to his bed. He was still laying there,
but he was holding his arms out to me.
hesitate; I was in his big arms in a minute crying my heart out again
as he stroked and petted me to calm me. For some reason I knew I
was safe in his arms and I didn’t really have to say a word, he
understood. However, after he got me settled down he began to ask
me a few questions. He looked down at my crotch and smiled.
“Nice big dick
ya’ got there, youngster. Hell, Son, I weren't near that big at your
age. I do declare, you're gonna' be bigger'n me or my
brother. I think you inherited that from your granddad.” He
complimented me. I didn’t respond. He kept stealing kisses
from me; kissing me behind my ear and on my neck.
“You know you
just paid your old man the sweetest compliment a son could give his
I answered meekly.
did. I woke up and found my beautiful cowboy standing by my bed
with a fistful of his big, buckaroo dick playing with hisself while he
admired his dad.”
Dad." I was quick to explain, "I was scared in my room.
Something’s happening to my body I’m afraid of and I came in here to
talk to you about it; maybe, ask you to let me sleep with you the rest
of the night. But, when I got in here, I saw you was asleep and,— you
just looked,— so,— ” I started crying again and he stole some more
kisses to calm me.
understand one thing between us, okay?” He asked rhetorically. I
knew there was more to come, “Don’t chu’ never feel embarrassed or
upset over your feelings for another person; especially, your old
man. What you were doing a while ago was a response to an honest
feeling you were having about your dad and there ain’t nothing wrong
with that; it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, the next thing,—
can you tell me what’s going on with your body that’s making you
“I haven’t told
you, Dad, but since mom died I cry myself to sleep almost every night;
however, lately I’ll wake up and my pillow and all around my head will
be soaked. I don’t mean just wet, I mean water logged,
soaked! I’m afraid because I thought I was wetting my bed, Dad,
but it ain’t down around my waist or the middle of my bed. I haven’t
told you ‘cause I get up in the mornings, strip my bed, and wash
everything including my pillow and then dry them. Everything’s
ready for the next night; but, damn it, Dad, it’s happening more and
more often and I’m getting tired of having to change my sheets ever’
Dad didn’t say
anything for a minute, like he was thinking. He just held me close and
stole another couple of kisses.
“I think I know
what’s wrong, but I think your idea of bunk’n it in with me for a
couple of nights is a good idea.”
“What da’ ya’
think's wrong with me, Dad.”
“I don’t wanna’
say what I'm think right now; but, I will tell you this, Son, I’ve
cried myself to sleep many nights. Ain’t nothing wrong with crying when
you miss someone. Don’t mean you’re weak or you ain’t got control
of yourself. It’s just you’re still grieving for your ma,
boy. So am I, for that matter. It’s probably gonna’ take us
longer than either of us thought. I can look at you sometimes and
know you’re thinking about her. I know the way you look at me, now and
then, you know I’m a’ think’n ‘bout her, too. That’s part of grieving,
Son. It’s part of life. It’s part of learning to let
go. We have to let go, Casey, we ain’t got much choice in the
matter; however, yore’ mom wouldn’t want either one of us going on
grieving too long for her. Know’n and love’n yore’ ma like I done, I
know’d she’d want us to go on with our lives and take her love and
memory with us. In a way, I guess I’m a little more fortunate than you,
“How’s that, pa?”
“After I planted
my seed in her, she carried you in her body for nine months; then,
when she had you, she gave me the greatest gift a man could ever
receive; she gave me you, Son. You’re a part of her, but you’re a part
of me, as well. You came from her body and, in effect, I still have a
part of her to help me let go. I have to go on to make sure that part
of her is okay and grows into a fine young man.
you crying, sometimes way into the night, but I didn’t know if I should
come to you or not. You ain't said much to me since your ma died.
I thought you was working things out on your own. I didn't wanna'
push and make things worse. Glad ju' come to me, though.
It's always important you do, Son, when ya' ain't sure 'bout something.
However bad you might think it is, your old man ain't never gonna' turn
Somehow, I’m a’
think’n this is God’s way of telling us we need each other, we
need to stop being so damned macho independent, and lean on one another
a little more. After all, we’re all we got now, pardner.
So, get yourself comfortable over there next to me, and when I think
I'm sure I have an idea what's wrong with you, you’ll be the first to
“S’what I’m here
for, buckaroo. I love you, Casey.”
“I love you,
End of Chapter 1
~ Texas Longhorns
2004/2005 ~ Waddie Greywolf