Thanks for reading!
Any use of real places, events, corporations or products within this text are strictly for the purpose of adding realism and authenticity to the writing. Critiques are always welcome. Also, please let me know what you think of the format. If you want more information about any rodeo events, there are tons of resources online.
Written exclusively for Nifty Archives. This story involves sexual relationships between boys, aged 15 and older. If this is illegal in your area, please do not read on. This story is work of fiction. Any similarities between real places, people, and events is completely coincidental and unintentional. If you read the archives frequently, then you know the drill. Take the rest with a grain of salt. This story is (c) 2007-08, Milos. All rights reserved! Please do NOT repost this story without permission.
Please send critiques, comments and questions to firstname.lastname@example.org.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." Mattie holds the door open for me.
I walk in. He closes the door behind me. "Do I? Why do you say that?"
He shrugs. "Your eyes are dark like you didn't sleep much."
"Just been a really freakin' weird weekend."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Dude, nothing." I pause. "What you wanna do tonight?" Like I really have to ask.
"Had Ronnie rent some horror movies, if you're up for it. Got the first Saw film."
I'm so tired I'll probably fall asleep in the middle of the movie. We walk downstairs. Mattie's house always stinks of potpurri. His mom has a little burner for it in the kitchen. The damned smell gets into everything, and most of the time I go home smelling like a flower. Ronnie's basement is different. Not normal basement smell, but more like clean hotel linens and fabric softner. Before Mattie used to wear deoderant and perfume, he smelled like a mixture of both. Funny the things a mind remembers sometimes.
He flips on the TV and puts the movie in. Sets it to play. I'm not too into the Saw movies, the way the people are being tortured and everything. Guess I've never had the stomach for that kind of thing. Mattie can't peel his eyes off the screen. He'll probably spend most of the movie with his hand over his mouth, naming off random gods and saints with each new scare that comes 'round the bend.
I'm laying on my side on the futon. It's too comfortable for me not to just doze in and out. I'd be asleep right now if Mattie wasn't jumping at every single sound.
I open my eyes. The DVD's on the menu, just repeating itself over and over. I guess I slept through most of it.
Mattie's laying on top of me, draped over my side at the waist, holding onto my arm. He's dreamin' about something, cuz' he jerks and mumbles in his sleep. Burries his head into my side. Mumbles again.
Not too soon after, I find myself drifting off again.
# # #
Backdraft was originally owned by DB&L Livestock Contractors of Greely, Colorado. A few weeks after he was born, a feedlot in Greely was temporarily shut down under a false Mad Cow scare. Livestock contractors in the area moved most of their animals out of the area, and most of them were tested.
The move and medical expenses bankrupted DB&L, so their animals were sold at auction to pay off their debtors. A small steer, only known as XNR432J, was sold to Richard and Grace W. Kelly, who only before had dabbled with the idea of contracting animals. The business never brought them much in the ways of profit, until, by a stroke of luck, they were asked to donate a few steers for the use of steer wrestling and riding events at an amature rodeo event in Jefferson County, Colorado.
In the steer riding event, 681 had an especially mean temper, and all the spirit of his grown-up counterparts. Richard knew there was something special about the animal, and gave contracting another go. Backdraft was born.
# # #
"Um, hi. Hold on." Jeff clicks the line over. Goes to a call I must have interrupted.
I walk around my room, keep the cordless phone up to my ear. Big risk if Jason or anyone decides to pick up the other line. I take a deep breath, just convince myself it's fine.
"Yeah, hello? Hi. Jeff?"
He giggles. "Calm down, Susan. I can hear you."
I sigh. "So, yeah. Hey, what's up?"
"Um, not anythin' special." He sounds cautious, bothered.
"Look, the other night..."
"Don't worry 'bout it. It was my fault."
"No, I freaked out. I wanted to apologize. You know, for actin' like such a chicken-shit."
"Jesus, Lem. You don't have to say sorry for anything."
"No, I wanna make it up to you." God, I sound like a chick from one of Momma's flowery romance novels.
He hesitates. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
Too late, he hung up. I look out the window. Sun's already starting to go down. I stayed with Mattie last night, and I don't know if I'd be lucky enough to stay out again tonight. Ten minutes. Shit. I could sneak out. But someone would notice me gone. I'd be in deep shit, then. I don't wanna get hooked up in Jason's bad reputation, lose my freedom.
I run down the steps. Momma's in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher.
I walk up behind her. "Um, Momma?"
She stacks the plates in the cupboard. "Mmm hmmm?"
"I was wonderin' if it'd be okay if I could go over to Jeff's and hang out?"
"Didn't you stay over at Mattie's last night?"
I knew this would happen. "Yeah."
"What're you two going to do?"
"Well, he said he was thinkin' bout going bowlin'."
"You're not gonna be drinkin', are you?" She looks right at me.
I blink. "Mom, you know I don't drink."
"I know." She goes for some glasses, thinks for a second. "I guess you can this once. Are you staying out late?"
"I was thinkin' I could stay over there since we'd be leaving the alley late. That way I wouldn't wake you up coming in."
"Okay. But if someone starts drinkin, you don't get into a car with 'em. Call me, I don't care what time it is. I'll come get you."
"Be back in time for chores tomorrow."
"I will. Love you!" I turn around, run up the steps to get ready. Maybe I should take a shower. I've only got five minutes. I run to the bathroom, strip. Get the water running. Shampoo my hair, scrub my face, give everything a quick once-over. I turn off the water and get out. I forgot to grab my towel from my room. Shit. I check under the counters, but the Momma hasn't cleaned the towels yet.
I crack the door, look both ways. Clear. I streak to my room, cover my crotch in case Chase decides to come out of her room. I make it without being seen. Dry myself off, put on some clean jeans. Decide not to wear any underwear, thinkin' something might just happen. I start getting stiff. Clean shirt. Socks and ropers. Baseball cap. Maybe not wearing underwear was a bad idea. It's rubbing against the zipper. I think about throwing some on, but I hear honking.
Jeff's truck's out front.
Right on time. I head downstairs, get a light coat outta the closet. Head out the front door and try to get the jacket over my arms.
He leans over and pulls the door open for me. I get into the cab next to him, smile. He nods back at me, puts it in gear.
"So, what's the plan?" I scratch the side of my leg.
"I don't know. I thought maybe we'd go somewhere and talk 'bout some things."
"You bring smoke?"
He looks over at me, then back to the road.
"I mean, I could do it if I can stay with you tonight." I sound desperate.
"Don't see why not. Mom's in Billings for one of her church things."
"We hangin' out at your place, then?"
"Too cold to be out in the stick tonight. Where else we'd go?"
"Won't your mom get pissed if we're smokin' at your place?"
"Probably. I get my stuff from my neighbor. He don't care none. We'll just smoke with him."
We turn onto the highway, take it a little past the Safeway and turn into the street leading into the mobile home park. It's run down, most of the trailers here are showin' their age. The one you can see from the road, the siding's starting to fall off. Jeff takes the first turn to the right. It's the first time I've even been to his place.
We pass a few homes, pull up to something right outta the nineteen-seventies. It looks like it's tan with a big brown stripe all the way around it. The molding around the bottom of the house is broken in a few places. There's a stake in the lawn connected to a chain that disappears into one of the holes. Jeff parks, leads me through the front gate.
There are a few pink flamingos in the yard. I find myself wondering why I'm not at all surprised. There are three or four of them off near the fence, one's on it's side, body is chewed up, it's little plastic head is decapitated. It's neck is a gnawed stump. The culprit comes out from under the house wagging his tail. A black german shepherd. He barks at me, sits next to Jeff as he tries to find the keys to the front door.
"Stay here a sec. Need to get something right quick." He steps in, turns on the porch light. Leaves the door open a crack.
The dog stands up, looks up at me. Leans against my leg and licks my hand. I scratch his head and look around the neighborhood. This really is the other side of the tracks. Not that there's anything wrong with it. Makes me realize how blessed I've been all my life.
He walks out. Points at the yard and snaps his fingers at the dog. "Go."
The dog walks back to the yard, looks at Jeff like he's sorry for something.
I follow Jeff out of the yard and a house over. The front stoop is dark. No lights on, but you can see the flickering blue glow from a television set inside. Jeff knocks on the door, waits.
After a minute, the door just opens. Nobody there.
"Hey, it's Jeff. Gotta friend with me."
I hear a voice inside, a guy. He coughs, says, "he cool?"
"Yeah." Jeff pushes through the door.
There's a guy sitting on the couch. Balding man that looks to be around his forties. Has his feet up, in sweat pants and a tank top. The couch has a rip across the back, and there's a loaded gun rack above the couch.
Jeff sits next to him. "Wanted to see if you wanted to smoke up. Make a salad."
"I think I'd tip my hat to that." He scratches himself. I've never seen this guy before. In a town like this, you eventually run into everyone. Must be a rough-neck, an oil-field guy or something. Maybe he's railroad seing BNSF hubs in Conrad. I guess it's better not to ask. I'm not too good around strangers. He looks up at me. "Who're you?"
"I'm... I'm Lem." I hold my hand out, he looks at it.
Nods at me. "The Taylor kid. Bronc rider, right?"
"Mahhh. I read the paper. There's only a hundred of ya' to keep track of 'round here."
Jeff goes to a cabinet under the television, pulls out a large glass pipe. "Lem, he goes by Frank."
I tug at my hat. "Nice to meet you."
"Got some ice for my scotch in the fridge. Prolly wanna change out the water and drop a few in there."
Jeff nods, walks to the kitchen. I just stand there, a little uncomfortable. Frank's just fixed on his TV. I look around, find an empty recliner to sit in.
Jeff walks back in with the pipe, sits on his knees on one side of the coffee table. Dumps out a small bag of weed and starts picking through the seeds. "Bongs are easier to smoke. Shouldn't have as much trouble this time." He looks up at me, winks. Goes back to sorting the weed. He starts packing it in a little bowl-looking piece off to the front of the bong. Uses the butt-end of his lighter to pack it in. "Watch how I do this, Lem. You gotta put your thumb over the carb here. You light up and breathe in. Once it takes, let off the carb a few times and breathe in the smoke." He leans over, lights it up.
The bong bubbles and fills with smoke. Lots of it. Me moves his thumb, takes the whole chamber. Holds his breath while he passes the pipe to frank. Tries not to cough. Frank takes a long rip off the pipe, doesn't need to even light it. Slides it over the table toward me.
The room smells to high heaven, just reeks of pot. Sweet and sharp. Frank smiles at me, he's missing a few teeth. "Watch out for this shit, kid. It's that creeper weed."
"Yeah. Th' shit creeps up on you." He cackles at me.
I lean over, flick the lighter a few times. Finally the flint catches, makes a flame. I hold it up to the bowl, breathe in. It feels funny, doing this. Before I know it, I have a chamber full of smoke.
"That's enough." Jeff pushes my hand away from the bowl. "Breathe it in."
Cool, smoky air flows into my lungs, tickles my throat. Feels like I could throw up, if I'm not careful. God, I need to cough. I just hold it in. Hold it in. Breathe out.
# # #
Jeff and I sit on the couch at his place. Got the TV set on, we're watching a movie on one of the local stations. I don't know what it is, don't particularly care. Not anything worth mentioning, really.
My head's starting to get heavy, getting that rolling numb feeling goin' through my body. Shifting from one place to another. I didn't feel it a minute ago, but I feel it now. "You know what? I... I'd..." Fuck. Lost my thought.
Jeff smiles. His eyes are squinty, red. "You know, I was thinkin' the same thing."
I cock my head to the side. "R... really?" He must be shittin' with me. I sit there for a minute. Watch the colors on the TV set bleed together. "You know, I... I could be a girl for you." Why the fuck did that just come outta my mouth?
Jeff throws his head back and laughs. "Fuck, kid! You gonna go get a sex change operation or something?" He nudges me in the side. "Then you'd really be called Susan."
I feel my cheeks smoldering. I slump down in my seat, a little pissed. Cross my arms. "I didn't mean it." How do you say what's on your mind when things like what I feel don't make sense anyway?
"Bet you'd look good in a pair of pink boots." He laughs again 'till he's almost cryin'.
"Dude, fuck you."
He leans in, cuddles with my neck. "Suuuusannnn!"
I lean back and punch him in the arm. "You're a... a... a fuckin' fuck!"
He laughs again.
"Maybe I should'a stayed at home."
"Just settle down a little."
"Why the fuck should I?"
Before I know it, he pulls me over for a kiss. That shut me up right quick. I'm not so sure about this, this thing, right now. The numbness swells like an ocean wave. Like, it wants to move from my tummy to my chest. I feel it in my neck. My chest tingles because he's rubbing it. "You're not gonna freak out on me again, are you?"
I shake my head. "Dude, nothin's ever gone through my ass the wrong way before. Kinda messed with my head."
He unbuttons my pants. Pulls them off so I'm in just my shirt and hat. Sticking straight up. I reach over the side of the couch, grab his crotch. Start rubbing it. He licks his finger, starts rubbing it over my hole. It tingles. "You like how this feels?"
I nod, spread my legs open a little more. "Uhnn-huh." I could crawl up the walls right now, just... Gaaawwwwwwdd! He pushes on it a little bit harder. Makes me moan.
I can't contain myself. I get the button on his pants undone, stick my hand right down his the front of his underwear. My fingertips run through his bush, meet with his dick. He's hard. I feel it pressing against the back of my hand. I grab it, feel it. It's bigger than I thought it'd be. I squeeze him. "Stand up."
He gets up, but keeps his finger right in the middle of the battle. I pull his pants down, look him over. I start shaking a little, get goosebumps as my face gets closer to his crotch. I can smell his balls, his aroma. Slightly sweaty, strong. Hint of piss. I kiss his cock, lick from balls to tip. His hair tickles my tongue. He's got some hairy nuts. I suck on one of them, like he did mine. I think I'm enjoying myself a bit too much.
"Hey," he pushes me back a bit. "Easy there." He kneels down in front of me, sticks me in his mouth and sucks me off a few times. Starts goin' at my balls, then moves his tongue to... he... he starts licking the part of my ass crack behind my nuts. Moves his tongue lower. Lower. Lower.
"Uhh, Jeff, I-- fucking Christ. Hhnnnnn." I gasp. Never felt this thing burn inside me like this. It's a fire. A wild animal. I'm moaning so loud I can hear my own fuckin' thoughts. He's got his tongue in my ass. He's licking it up one side and down the other, sticks it in and wiggles it around like he wants to get the whole damn thing inside.
I start workin' my pole. I'm gonna explode, and I wanna cum something fierce.
He grabs my wrist and yanks my hand down to my side. Holds it there. Looks up at me from between my legs. "What's your fuckin' hurry?" Licks my sack and gets back to business. This time, he just starts lashing around in me, like, total tongue-fucking. I've got my legs over his shoulders, rockin' my hips, grinding my ass into his face as much as he'll take it. I want to grab myself. It feels too good not to. "FUCK, I wanna cum!"
He stops, gives me an evil grin. He pulls me forward by the legs, starts making out with my neck, runs his dick through my crack.
He kisses me on the lips. I don't know if I can do it, let him make out with me when he's just been suckin' on my ass parts. I... he gets me to make out with him, lock lips, rock hips. Sticks his middle finger in me. I'm in heaven, it feels so good. He keeps kissing me, sucking on my tongue. I'm too gone to care.
"Don't move." He stands, kicks his pants off. Walks down the hallway outta the living room. He comes back with a bottle of clear liquid, has some on his fingers. Starts rubbing me again, sticks two fingers in this time. I pull my cheeks open as wide as I can, just to let him in, to press on my insides.
I cry out in pleasure. He's twisting his fingers around, rubbing toward my spine so I feel it in my back. Sensations running up to my shoulders, shivers. "Please... please. I wanna... let me cum." I'm almost crying.
"I know." He pushes up on my knot. Whispers in my ear. "I know. You wanna be a girl? You wanna please me?"
"Yes!" I gasp.
"You gonna take it all?" He pushes on it again, a thick drop of clear fluid oozes out of the tip. His fingers feel so warm inside me, alive. He pushes his fingers in further. "You want it?"
I grit my teeth, squint my eyes at him and hiss, "Yessss-ss."
He pulls his fingers out. Puts more of the clear fluid in his hand, rubs it over his cock. Whatever it is, it's smooth and slippery. He presses his penis against my asshole, rubs the head around a bit. "Imm'a go slow, so it doesn't hurt so much goin' in."
He's gonna what?
He starts pushin' it in. Gets a little past the head and he stops. It hurts a little bit, feels like he's stretching things out a bit. I can take this. He pushes in a little more. Slowly. Little by little. After another little bit goes in, it hurts like hell. "Fuck! Stop!" I breathe hard. I don't know how much more I can take.
"Relax it a little. Don't squeeze."
I try, but I feel like I'm gonna crap myself. This feels strange, painful. He pulls out a little, just a little to where it doesn't hurt much, and starts in again. Goes a little further. "Ahh!" Pulls out a little. Pushes in more. This feels like he's tearing me from the inside out. It aches so bad, but with the swirls in my head, it's starting to feel right. Maybe I am a little bitch. His girl. A virgin fuck. A little... further. I scrunch my face, grit down and try to let him in.
He grabs a clod of hair on the back of my head, pulls me forward and kisses me again. His face is pressed hard against mine, almost painful. I can't take my mind off the pain.
He stops. His body is against my butt, my hole jolting, squeezing, getting used to this thing inside me. He stays there like that for a while, keeps kissing me. Gets by my ear again. "You wanna cum?"
The feeling is different now. I've got my legs wrapped around him, he's connected to me, inside me. Something comes out of my mouth that I never expected to hear myself say. I almost scream. "Fuck m-me!"
He starts pumping his hips slowly, draggin' my nerves in and out with him. I feel full with him in there. So full I could probably drop the load on my own, no hands. Just shoot all over. Ramming me. In and out, over and over. My head is in spins. He's going at me, hard. Slapping against my cheeks. I want him to go in further. So much fucking deeper.
He grunts, squeezes the sides of my thighs. "Yeah," he whispers. I'm taking him like Hope probably did, I feel like I'm all that matters to him right now. Like he really loves me. His face starts changing. A vein in his neck sticks out. He arches his back, looks up at the sky like it's about to rain, pumps his hips. "Gahhhhhhhhhh--"
He starts jerkin' me fast. Hard. I feel like I could let go now. His grunting gets louder, and all I can do is try to yell. Beg him. Plead. "Make me fuckin' cum. Do it! Fuckin-- Nnnnng! Nnnnnnn! MMMMMM." I release, throb. I shoot so hard I hit my own face, get it all over my chest.
He throws his head back again. "Hahhhhhhh!" He thrusts forward, stops. Has this blank look on his face, like he's somewhere else. Real quick like he pulls out and slams in again. Breathes funny. Sweat runs down his face. He rams me again. Leans over, across my body, still in me. Breathing hard.
He licks cum off my neck and face. Kisses me. I taste my own jizz on his breath. He starts going soft, just kind of falls outta me.
He sits on the couch, grabs a pack of cigarettes off the table next to the couch and lights up. Looks at me like it's no big deal.
I don't move. I just try to catch my breath. Look at him like I'm tired. It still feels like he's inside me a little. I'm still hard, even. I feel some of him dribble outta me, roll down my crack before it drips off my backside and lands on my ankle.
He takes another drag. Blinks at me. "Go clean yourself off."
# # #
We're on his bed. I'm laying with my face in his comforter, shoulders down, ass in the air. Propped up on my knees. My head keeps hitting the headboard. He's got three fingers in me, pulling down on my fancy. His head's between my legs. He's sucking my dick. I know I'm close, I'm gonna cum any second now. He told me to keep my mouth shut. Don't say anything, no matter what. Keeps pushin' his fingers in and out.
I bite the blanket, unload in his mouth. He just keeps going. Keeps sucking.
# # #
He's laying on his back, inside my ass again. This time I'm sitting on it, scooting my butt back and forth. Facing away from his face, my back to him. Like I'm squatting over him, doing the work. It feels too good to stop. I'm overloaded. I want him to cum in me again, fill me up. I want him to keep going.
# # #
I'm laying on my back, my knees over his shoulders. He's deep, but all I see his the top of his body, bobbing up and down, in and out of my view. He's got some chest hair, right between his pecks. His head, silhouette, bobbing up and down. There's light startin' to peek through the window, a song-bird outside sings, to be heard. Something so beautiful in a place like this seems ironic.
He's been going for half an hour this time. I feel raw, like a bundle of nerves. A stump. I'm not even hard anymore, he's just doing what he needs to finish himself a little more pleasure.
Somewhere along the way this got a little too real.
I look at the walls, the posters. It's too dark to see most of em, but there's one next to the door. The poster of Lane Frost riding a bull named Taking Care of Business, snapped just seconds before the animal killed him. I wonder what it was like for him, in his last moments. What it felt like when he died. He was in over his head, and I feel the same way. In over my head. It's getting complicated, and it's not at all what I expected it to be.
He finishes. This time it's quiet, like it wasn't anything good for him. He pulls out, wipes his dick off with an old tee shirt, and lays down. I let my legs down, keep my cheeks together. My butt hurts. Probably will for a while, if it doesn't bleed. He's had his way with me six times tonight. It was good for me. For a while, I mean. I could do this, be kin to his heart. He looks at me, and I try to smile at him. A kiss would tell me this is real. Seal the deal. That we could be like this.
Jeff rolls over, faces the wall, back to me. Falls asleep.
Please let me know what you think of the story. Send critiques to email@example.com with the subject "Lem.". Thanks for reading!