Date: Tue, 15 Aug 2017 10:49:06 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Ashes and Dust 4

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/rural/ashes-and-dust/) for
warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between related young-adult men. Go away if any of
that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my
characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of
future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html
to keep the cum coming.

*****

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."

*****

Ashes and Dust 4: Paybacks & Promises

by Bear Pup

*****

I held the man like he'd done me as Max (more quickly than I) recovered
back into himself. His eyes stayed wide. I smiled and turned, finding that
I really did need to piss. I let loose a stream and heard, a moment later,
the first dick I'd ever touched aside from my own begin to water a
blackjack.

He was right. We mounted back up and I found I was easily able to
concentrate on the business of the ranch, not that the feel of Max's cock,
or the sensation of his hand on mine was ever far from my thoughts. I
learned a lot about what I'd be doing, mainly in three categories:
maintenance, like fences and clearing undergrowth and eliminating cedars
and snakes; chores, like mucking out, grooming and taking care of sick
cattle that were kept in the Far Barn; and herding, moving the stock from
place to place and cutting out those who needed special attention.

We neared the end of the snaky tree line just afore noon and ate the
wrapped meal Cookie had made for us. Max called em empanadas, we'd'a called
em meat pies. Meat and beans, thick and gooey inside the flaky pastry
crust. Wonderful.

Max decided that it was as good a time as any for me to get Gypsy used to
the gunfire. I spent about ten minutes talking to her and showing her the
gun and explaining everything. I could swear she hung on every word and she
looked at that shotgun with such obvious distaste and mistrust she had'ta
know more than she let on. As I mounted, Max came over and whickered to her
until she was nuzzling him like an old friend. He pulled back, holding her
halter and spoke in a no-nonsense voice.

"Now, Gypsy. You just watch Streak. She don't like guns any more'n most
horses, but she stands em. You be brave, girl and you'll do fine. You know
Jesse ain't gonna do nothing to hurt you, right?" She flicked her
head. "Kay then. Jesse, fire up and out first, okay?"

I took a deep breath and couched the butt into the meat of my shoulder. I
squeezed Gypsy tight with my knees just as I squeezed the trigger. She
didn't jump or rear, just danced a little, then turned and looked up at me,
clearly saying, "What the Hellfire you wanna go'n'do THAT fer?" I patted
her neck on one side as Max soothed the other.

We shot off over a dozen shells until three things were clear: Gypsy could
handle the gunfire just fine; she was right sick of it and ready to dump me
in a pond; and I needed a hell of a lot of time behind that shotgun as it
pert-near tore my shoulder off! Max helped me down and leaned me against an
Elm and proceeded to torture my arm back into place.

He also outright laughed at my failure to command proper cussing and gave
me a quick tutorial. It came in handy as he got my shoulder straightened
out and I turned the air blue. And don't you just know that Gypsy was
a-loving ever holler? She just snickered at me the whole time and for the
rest of the day pulled to my right ever gull-durned time she had the
chance. Do you know what it's like to be laughed at by a cowboy and two
smart-ass horses when your sore arm gets yanked hard and you forget the
cuss words? Jocularity was not exactly the kind of sympathy I wanted round
about then.

When I finally got to the point where there wasn't a black-and-blue cloud
over me, Max said he'd about come up to the end of his lecture and we
started to chat about life on The Star. Great food, good pay,
uniquely-stupid cattle, all that. I finally worked up the courage to ask
what I'd been wanting to the whole time.

"Um, Max. I don't really know how to ask this, but it seems the guys are,
well, right casual about... well, about..."

He smiled wryly. "About takin care'a personal bidness? Yes, sir, we
are. Maybe a bit more emboldened last night than normal. When a new hand
comes, ever'body's tense and worried on how the new guy will react, so they
tend to either lay it on real thick -- Zeke and Pete -- or pretend ain't
nuthin happ'nin -- Kincaid and Danny -- or just watch and go about their
own evening -- me and Gabby and Babe."

I was blushing six shades of sunset by then. "Um, how'd I do?" I kicked
myself for the little-boy voice I heard come out just then.

Max chuckled. "Well, son, I'd say we'd have to score all the different
rides on that rodeo. First was Zeke at dinner. You damn near hit a fifty on
that one. But then later? Afraid you fell off the horse when Zeke took his
second pass outside the winder." He laughed loud at the look I had.

"Jesse, everybody in that bunkhouse knew what was going on the other side
a'that screen. The look'a you tryin not to know? You're gonna get some
ribbing about that. Son, you should'a either just jacked one out (for full
points) or at least gone'n relieved yaself (for the save), but turning
over? Son, you damned near broke it off and even I could hear the OOMPH as
you flipped! And ya didn't take care of it before sleeping? That, son, was
a clear throw from an easy horse."

"So, um, I should'a just... oh my gosh, Max, you mean in front'a ever-body?
I'd'a died!"

"Yep, I know. But you better get used to it. Babe tried to give ya a leg up
by getting all vocal in his own ministrations but you didn't take the
hint."

"I didn't ha--" Oops.

"Oh, HO! So you were afraid'a pecker tracks, huh? Yeah, your age I can see
that. But didn't you see Danny stomp'n around with those fancy drawers all
stiff with his night-load? You think they's starched?" I mumbled, appalled.

"Well, I'll stop embarrassing ya now. I don't want you fainting cuz all the
bloods in your face, now do I? Let's head across and see if we can hook up
with Gary and all. They should be coming back unless they found trouble."

It turned out they had found trouble of a sort. For a short way, the
southwest fence paralleled a rarely-used trail. Some enterprising man or
group had turned a small section of the fence into a gate by the simple
expedient of clipping the wire and adding a twinning post. The plan was
obviously to come back and spirit away a few dozen head and be gone in
minutes.

Randy had ridden back to the barns and gathered a mass of barbed wire. The
three had tightly nailed the twinning post, making a single, immovable
fencepost that could never be opened. Since most cattle theft was on dark
nights, they also laid flattened loops and tangles of barbed wire in the
grass for a couple of yards between the fence line and the trail the
rustlers had been using. With luck, they'd get themselves messed up before
they even found the repairs.

We met them coming back and chatted as we headed in. Randy cut me away like
a calf and we rode together a few yards off from the others. "You doing
okay, Jesse? Settling in?"

"Yes, sir. Right well, sir. I appreciate the chance and the work, sir."

"Son, you know I get a year older every time you Sir me, right?" I startled
and looked up to see a twinkle in those pale, cloud-blue eyes, then
blushed. "S'okay, Jesse. Just kidding you. The guys treating you alright?
No trouble there?" There was a clear edge to his question, an honest worry
and a bit of tension.

I smiled a bit shyly. 'No, s-- Randy. No trouble a'tall. I ain't used to
bunking with guys, but they all seem right nice."

"And Zeke?"

I thought for a long minute on what the 'right' answer was. "Well, now, I
might have to take a little more time with Zeke. You know how little boys
can be..." Randy's single hoot of laughter got all three others to look
over at us.

"You'll do fine, son. Right fine. Just a couple words of warning. One
thrown punch gets a cow poke thrown off The Star fore it lands, and I don't
care who it is or what the provocation. So don't go provokin and don't go
swingin. That said, putting a man back in place with a well-chosen word,
'specially about something he's all worried bout -- say, just for instance,
a hand who's got big ole fried-egg titties -- can make a bunkhouse right
smooth." He clicked his mount forward a bit and I smiled Zeke did have
silver-dollar sized brown circles round nips the size of my pinkie. Well,
well, well.

We got back to the ranch proper and I spent a long, sensuous time with
Gypsy, giving her the kind of treatment that Pete had given me (without the
sexing up, a'course). I told her what a great horse she was and brave to
boot with the gunfire. Beautiful (which she knew for damned sure) and sweet
at buttercups. By the time I was done, she was right doe-eyed and kept
a'sighing. She batted those eyes at me as I left my thoroughly contented
horse to a quiet night.

By the time I got to the bunkhouse, near all the hands were there. I spied
Zeke in his bunk, nekkid, a'course, currying his boots and chaps, an
operation that would take a while. Pete was waiting and helped me into the
tub. None too sure of my little Master Plan, I resolved to try
anyway. "Pete, thank'ee for yest-i-dee," I whispered, "but I need to teach
Zeke a little lesson. Don't think that I didn't like it, Pete, I did, but
stop short today if'n ya don't mind none?"

Pete's eyes danced with mischief and he proceeded to wash me. He turned me
(blushing like a virgin bride) side-on so's the whole durned bunkhouse saw
what his extremely-talented hands did to me. By the time that last rinse
was done, I was burning with need and saw that, no matter how much Zeke
tried to pretend otherwise, I commanded his entire attention. He was hard
and dripping. The rest of the men were aroused to one extent or another,
but Zeke? He was right fixated.

I thanked Pete and walked, nekkid, to my bunk and slipped on my moccasins
and my hat. A hat I tipped to the men, "I need a moment, fellas, sorry bout
that." I rounded the bunkhouse until I was right the other side of Zeke's
bunk, only a screen tween me and the cowboy.

I started working myself, making sure I have enough spit to get the wet
slapping sound all to the forefront. I knew this wouldn't take long as
worked up as I already was with the planning and with Pete's very nice
hands. I spoke low and intense, like Zeke had the night before.

"Oh, yeah, Keke. Oh, baby, you know I like those big ole wide tits. Squeeze
em for me, baby. Now diddle those big ole nipples. OH! Oh, yeah, like that,
baby. Let me feel em, Keke, please? Oh, I do so love it when you
whimper. Your big ole nipples are like little dicks, they get so hard and
ripe. And the way you moan and beg, baby, about to make me shoot all over
ya! Oh, you like that, baby. You like it when I roll and pinch em, baby?
Oh, Keke, yesssssss. Pull my big pecker in squeeze those big'uns
together. Make me titty-fuck you, baby! Yes, like that Keke! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Oh, Keke, baby, YES!" I grunted in satisfaction as I painted the wall of
the bunkhouse.

I caught my breath but made a conscious decision not to clean off my pecker
of the extra dribbles right then. I walked back in to a silent tableau of
smirks, stares and smiles. Zeke was about to bust. He took one look at my
flushed face and dripping dick and bolted for the door. Gabby chuckled
silently and Max nodded with approval. Kincaid, though, he walked over a
bit unsteadily, his loincloth suspiciously full and twisted.

"Don't you do that again, Jesse." I startled; his voice was intense and
strained and shaky but still a whisper. No one could possibly
hear. "Don't. You so much as wink and I swear to God I'll be there." I
stared, completely at a loss. What the hell was this about? "Please, Jesse,
please don't do that to me again? Please?" His huge brown eyes were like
Gypsy's, and it was as if whatever I'd done had been meant to torment him
alone. I reached a hand out and touched his cheek.

"What you asking, Kincaid? I'm so sorry. What did I do that upset you?"

He moaned, low and piteous. "You gonna make me say it, ain't ya?" I had no
idea what he meant. "There's a big puddle of cream no cow can give drying
on the side of this bunkhouse, Jesse. Dear God, I'd run out there and lick
it up, tongue-splinters and all, if there'd be any left. Please, Jesse,
please don't make me beg!"

"What do you mean, Kincaid? Lordy, you cain't possibly be talkin bout... Oh
ma'God, you are!"

"Please, Jesse. Please?"

"But, but, but" I sputtered, "but how? What do I? What do you?"

He recoiled a bit and looked incredulously from one of my eyes to the
other. "You really don't know, do you? My God, Jesse, you never? No one
ever?" His breathing got short and fast. "Oh, God, Jesse. Oh, God. Please,
please, please let me. Please. Let me be the first. I'll be the best. I
swear. I'll beg. I will. I'll scream and beg, Jesse. I'll do anything,
Jesse. Just let me. Just say. I will. Just, just, just unh-unh-unh-unh." I
pulled back, realizing a moment too late that he had just filled his
tied-up loincloth, one hand caressing hisself and the other on my knee. He
fled the bunkhouse and I stood back, stunned.

Max sauntered over and stood in front of me. "You, son, have a new fan. But
I'd be careful. I think you got yourself a new enemy as well." Zeke had
just come in, nearly purple in shame, fury and post-orgasmic flush. "Watch
ye'self, Jesse. He won't do anything serious, but he'll be looking for way
to humiliate you, son. Cuz what you just did, meaning it or not, was push
ever button that boy's got." He smiled, patted my knee and moved off.

Cookie rang the dinner bell and I grabbed a pair of shorts and ran for
it. All smiles as usual, Cookie dished me up rice, beans and long, thin
slices of something off the plate cut, seared hard and leaking juice,
tender and succulent. I had to admit, he had The Touch. There was a hint of
heat that just made the meat tastes 'steakier' and the beans were
perfect. By the time dinner was in full swing, I was calm enough to join
the joking round the table.

"Well, at least this afternoon's sound-show solved one question," Danny
smirked. "I was worried you done broke it off last night when you turned
over so fast!" All the guys laughed at that.

"I darned near did!" More laughter that I was up to the ribbing.

"And you just suffered in silence all night, huh?"

"Well, I didn't want to get up this morning all glued to my drawers like my
lower bunkmate," that got some guffaws, "and I don't have fancy enough
drawers that they look good starched and all." Danny socked my shoulder as
he and the rest laughed.

Dinner ended and we trooped back to the bunkhouse. That night, I joined the
poker game along with Danny, Kincaid (who kept looking at me like I was
dessert), Zeke and Max. I knew from experience that the worst thing a new
player could do was win. Since I had a good read on Zeke and Danny, I was
able to make sure to lose just a few cents overall on the night.

We broke a bit before the lights-out limit and I hopped into my
bunk. Kincaid casually strolled over and whispered, "Y'all needing any, um,
help tonight, Jesse?" There was real longing and hope in his voice. I
smiled down at the pudgy, handsome cowboy.

"Not tonight, Kincaid, but I promise I'll let'cha know, okay?"

"Really?" His voice was that of a little boy being pledged a lolly at the
county fair, "You really promise?" I nodded and he plumb beamed up at me as
he went over to his own bunk. Lights went out and I was asleep quickly, but
not before I heard at least one or two faps from various points in the
room. I smiled contentedly. Yessiree, I could right get used to life on The
Star.

<eof>

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 33 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 25 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 26 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Lake Desolation: 19 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Culberhouse Rules: 9 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 8 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/
Ashes & Dust: 4 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/