Date: Mon, 22 Feb 2016 00:04:31 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: ?JoLLy RaNCHeRs? 01 (intergenerational, teen, college) % This work of fiction is set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons of habitats, governmental or non-governmental areas, farmhouses, nor barns. % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by their own laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt. Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Nifty Stories Archive Donation donate.nifty.org Donation information for the Nifty Stories Archive % "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" 01 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^ 0 ^ % Growing up in Buzzard's Creek, for a young person working a horse farm, just the name of the town itself could cause peers to taunt a dude. A `buzzard' would leave a dryness in the throat, depicting a cow's skull sitting on a desert floor, beaten by the sun. No, it was much cooler to live in the `big city,' Scott's Bluffs! Scott's Bluffs wasn't all that big. Nothing like a Chicago would be, but smaller, not even toting a population of 5,000. However, for Russell, it wasn't everything to dwell on. More importantly, where a person was from, the love of family, family sticking together and family coming first, is what mattered. Fortunately for Russell, it made a big difference his grandpappy, Russell Cleg had already been established as a third generation resident in these parts of the northeastern corner of the U.S. Handed down a name, it resting on his shoulders, horse farming would be in Russell's future. As things can work out, it taking time to reach a point in a person's life, Russell the IV-th, a long-guarded secret was about to unfold in his life. For years Rusty had endured watching ranch hands showering out in the open was a big hype. Earlier on in life he was hesitant to share a shower with a grown man. However, shedding the cloak of youth, with his senior year in high school behind him now, Rusty felt more like a man than a boy! Among the ranch workers, Rusty stood off to the side. Shirt coming off, that was no big deal. There was no atmospheric reason why he should be shivering, so Rusty figured his stiff nips were a sign of being nervous. Gaining sight of his `favorite' ranch hand to `stalk', a kid, similar in age, he froze, short of dropping unbuckled jeans. The young cowpoke watches as Evan walks into the shower facility. He sure looked good to Rusty, shirt over the shoulder, still wearing a cowboy's hat, so enticing it made him lick his lips. For better or worse, whatever the case, Rusty couldn't help it, Evan walking over near him. "Okay if I shower here?" Rusty's eyes did glance around, the shower-head above, next to him, empty of a man standing there, "No problem with me." After saying it, Rusty did wonder if the smile he flashed was too alluring, which made his upbeat remark fade into something less cheerful, "I mean...it's not like I own that space." "Thanks!" `Oh my god,' Rusty's mind was telling him now, indeed he was too forthcoming, to have the same attitude come back at him. Before he turns the shower on, Evan unbuckles, he sits on the bench provided and removes his boots and woolly socks. When he stands, his jeans fall to his ankles. At first, Evan was not paying mind to Rusty standing there, but with pants at his feet, briefs between there and his cowboy hat, he utters, "Oops!" A cross between being caught looking and trying to hide it, how could Rusty not be accused of being a stalker, eyeing up the tube filling Evan's briefs! Then again, Rusty is as stoopid as a shoe, "Uh, don't forget to take off your hat!" As if looking up at the sky, Evan does remove his straw hat, "Oh yeah. Thanks. It's like, my hat and me, we're like bet buddies. Where I go, it goes!" Rusty can't help but laugh out loud, Evan doing the duckwalk, jeans cuffing his ankles, sashaying across the concrete floor to hang up his hat on a hook. On the return, even though his shaft is encased in his briefs, Rusty tries not to pay attention to it wobbling. With experience about these things, more proficient of telltale signs, Evan knew, `he wants me,' which also meant they were in the `same boat,' "Guess I helped the janitor with mopping up the floor, eh?" Whether Rusty knew it or not, Evan provided him with the perfect alibi, pants looking a little wet. Though, he went with it, "That'll teach you!" Evan jokes, "Yeah, some of us are a little slower than the rest, huh?" It didn't take rocket-science research, to see the differences between Rusty and Evan. Aside from Evan being two years older than Rusty, their traits, one seemed more subdued than the other. It could tell something about a person, Rusty more reserved, Evan outgoing in his attraction towards the male of the species. The other cowboys, getting the grime off, they were a close knit group, which is why it circulated to hurry and shower off and grab towels. Almost silently, it circulated, joking about a budding romance ready to start clicking. Evan was totally attuned to Rusty, even though Rusty notices the sudden exodus. Again, with nervous banter, "I guess they're all done!" "Then, I better get a move on it," Evan says, finally stepping out of his jeans. "Oh shit," he remarks, acting like his ankles were shackled. Reaching for something which was not there, something to hold onto, Evan's butt slaps down on the bench! He wouldn't dare say, but Rusty was thinking it could be, Evan's balls crushed in the close quarters, corralled in by legs and briefs, "Are you okay?" Evan smiles, but doesn't share, that maybe Rusty should come over and `check him out' at the `place of impact!' Rather than continue this charade, Evan says, "Can I trust you with something?" Rusty put his trust off on someone else, "My dad says, for being a senior in high school...was...I graduated this year, I'm much more mature than most of my class. Sure. You can trust me." Evan thought, a simple `yes' or `no' would be sufficient. Standing, Evan begins peeling his briefs down his thighs, "I'm hiding something," he says, his junk falling out. `You sure are!' is all poor, closeted Rusty thinks. Though, he had already gazed up and down Evan's bod, taking in the dark brown hair which fanned over his chest, the stripe which led to his belt buckle, it both surprises and embarrasses Rusty. So, instead of direct, to the point, Rusty works his way around the bend, "You like that hat, don't you? I mean, I never see you without it on?" `Dammit!' Evan condemns himself, this not going the way it's supposed to. "Oh that," he quickly steps out of each leg-hole, tosses the briefs on the bench, walks over to the wall, turning on the hot and cold, "yeah...me and my hat, we been together for a long time." With the steam escaping the moment, Rusty realizes the cake of soap in his hand was hiding what hung between his legs. Evan being doused, he asks, "You just getting here, or on your way out?" This is when Rusty gets self-conscious of one bar of soap in the balance of two hands, "Oh, I've been here." "Oh," Evan smiles, after seeing Rusty almost frozen in place, though eyes wandered. "I suppose," Rusty was nervous as hell, "I better get going. Getting going, Rusty slides the soap up his smooth bod, while turning towards the wall. Rusty had learned, from going back and searching through his father's filing cabinet, doing the math, had inside knowledge, Evan 22-years old. Still in the worried frame of mind, being found out, Rusty returns to the stale chat, "Are you afraid of getting sunburned on your bald head, or something?" "Bald?" Evan smiles, feeling his shaggy hair, all wet, "Does it look like I'm bald?" "Nope." Whether Rusty were coming or going, Evan was finished, turning off the shower and grabbing a towel. Truthfully, Rusty could not begin to guess whether the soap glided over his chest and stomach, or whether he shampooed, followed Evan's lead, turning off the water faucets, "I guess I'm done, too!" Rusty thought he would dry off and redress. A natural reaction kicks in, doing what Evan does, drying off a little, wrapping the towel around his waist, grabbing up his duds and walking out. He would not normally put his hat on his head until the hair dried, but since Evan did it, he cloned it. Kind of new to the surroundings, Evan having come on board in the spring, has settled in fairly well. Rusty had seen Evan working a few times, but with his last year in high school, at the top of his class, he pay more attention to his studies than partying. They were all alone in the bunkhouse, Rusty having followed Evan in there, as they chatted. The others had packed themselves into a truck and headed into Scott's Bluff. Friday nights, the ranch almost became a ghost town. The ranch also being a tourist resort, there were a few stragglers who found nature to be more alluring than beer and line-dancing. "I wear the hat..." Evan hesitates, biting a lip. "Look," Rusty uses some of that homegrown logic passed on down to him, from his grandpa, before he bit the dust, "I'm okay with anyone being who or what they are. If you did something against the law and you're on the run, I..." "No. Nothing like that," Evan still is a little reluctant, even though he brought it up first. Again, that sense of logic, "We all have something to hide. That's what Grandpa Russ used to say. He also used to tell me, let a man talk first and then stand there and digest it, before reacting. Gramps used to say, wars were started because a guy didn't stand back and mull over it. I kind of follow that myself. So, whatever it is you're going to tell me, if it's bad, I'm not going to haul off and sock you in the nose?" "No offense, but I'd probably deck you before you got in my face?" Evan smiles. "Probably," Rusty had to own up to it. He was a muscled guy, from doing chores around the farm, but he knew Evan did some after hours working out. He knew it, because it was one of his stalking `projects,' once school was out for the summer! "Okay, but I don't trust saying anything in here. Why don't I finish getting dressed and meet you..." Rusty jumps the gun, "Out by the old homestead?" "Yeah. I have to go collect my wages before Al closes up shop." He knew as well, Al, the overseer, wanting as much, getting a shower, sweetening himself up for a Friday night on the town, "Okay." Well, instead of doing a little freshening up on himself, sure now he showered with water only, Rusty was too hyper to bother with that. Running right to the barn, he commandeered `his' horse, `Hoot'. His father had given him the horse, claiming his son had cured `Hoot' of being spooked by owls. Instead of saddling him, Rusty and Hoot had an understanding, that at times hopping a ride could be spur of the moment. This was one of those times, Rusty almost tasting the mystery of why Evan wore the hat. While he waited by the shack, with a partial roof, he wandered about, using theories of deduction. The only clue he had, which was not attributed to Evan's secret, instead of bald, he had a fine head of bushy, brown hair. With thinking like that, it did move Rusty on to the next page, thinking about how nice it would be to rub his hands over Evan's hairy pecs, feel up all the fur. He wondered if would be like Hoot's soft coat? Hearing an approaching gallop, Rusty turns around, saying, "You made it!" Evan's horse was saddled. Hanging from the side it could not see, him holding in one hand a sixpack, "Beer?" Evan said it, like asking if Rusty had ever had any. "Well, my pa don't let me, but my Grand-pappy, he kind of weened me onto it." Though Rusty had lived on the ranch his entire eighteen years, he was always told not to go near the old homestead. It could cave in on a person. "Is it safe?" he follows Evan right in. "I guess we'll find out!" Popping open a can, it bubbed out a little, from the jumpy ride. Rusty says, "Right," though he was thinking why he was even here! There was more on his mind than quenching his thirst and after a tiny sip, "So, what's on your mind?" Staring at Rusty, Evan wanted to truthfully answer him, "The reason I wear my hat. It's kind of lame actually." He had heard stories, from his grandpa, how kids in the old west were disciplined, Rusty joking, "Do I have to give you a whoopin' to find out?" Evan wondered if every kid was brought up the same, "Why...you're old man do that to you?" "Do what?" They weren't on the same trail, Evan figuring it, "Never mind. So, you want to know why I wear the hat?" He had set his can down, Rusty sitting on a piece of a log, which probably had been something to support the cabin, having fallen down during a heavy snow. Folding arms around the middle, he pulled at a blade of grass, growing right there in the midsts of the brokenness, "Whenever you want to get around to it, Evan!" Sitting across from Rusty, Evan gets comfy. Then, for the reason he sat there, he shucks it aside momentarily, saying, "Y'know, I wouldn't want you to miss a detail," he reaches up, takes his hat off and like having creases in it, irons it out, "so's I better close up the gap, eh?" Rusty hadn't a clue, Evan getting up, crossing the indoor `meadow', all of a few feet. Turning around, Evan plops his ass down on the log, next to Rusty's bumb. Feeling Evan's thigh next to his, Rusty thinks of it as a little more room needed, moves three inches to his right, "You have enough room there?" Looking down at the valley between them, the 21-year old is thinkin' any amount of room is too much. That's what he would normally have as a frame of mind, an effort to `close in for the kill'! However, knowing his new bud is relatively `new' to the game, stays put, "Plenty." "Good," is all Rusty leaves him with. Then, a play Evan's made, in a hayloft, loading portion of a truck, small storeroom of a general store, wherever he could get head, "Whew! Is it hot in here, or me?" "In here?" Not which Rusty didn't survey the place already, "There's like no walls...hardly?" "I know, but no wind either, which contemplates for it." "You mean, `compensates'?" "Whatever," Evan wasn't about to get hung up on semantics. He might be new at the game, but Rusty was smart enough to know some of the rules. Thinking something up, which was thoroughly stoking not only his inquisitive mind, he plays right into Evan's poker hand, "You're right." "I am?" Evan wondered. "Uh, like, what am I right about?" Looking down upon himself, Rusty had every right to make the play, his shirt sweaty at the pits, midchest and where he always felt sweaty... It had been one of life's little wonders for Rusty, a man's bellyhole, did sticking a finger in a sweaty navel, pulling it out tasting it, had all men experienced... "I'm feeling the same thing, I guess?" They might have approached each other, like speaking 2 different languages, but now were on the same page. Rusty, while looking down upon the blotches of sweat on the canvas shirt, starts to unbutton the top, with warning, "I guess it might be cooler, unbuttoning a few of these?" This was playing out far more than Evan had ever thought! Turning to Rusty, arms extended, "Here, allow me." Then, fingers and thumbs ready, like a man going at another's nips, "if it's all right with you?" Whereas Evan was pacing himself, for Rusty's benefit, for his own benefit, since he had no experience being with another man, Rusty allows Evan to mentor him, "Sure. I haven't got a problem with it." Not reluctant at all, those nip-tweakin' fingers went to work, hustling down the front of Rusty's shirt. Near the belt, Evan had to pull the shirt out to get at the last 1 or 2 buttons. At this point, Rusty thought about it, his sweaty navel, but didn't want to scare Evan away at this stage of the game. Though, he was conscious of it, the whole thing, his shirt not covering the front of his bod, "Feels...different." Then, when Evan grabs the collar of Rusty's shirt, allowing it to fall off his shoulders... "Oh wow," Rusty looks down upon his naked chest. Caught off guard, or not paying much attention to anything but the churning in his loins, Evan's bumb slips off the log, falling back onto the dirt floor. Turning around on the log wasn't much different to Rusty than straddling a horse, which he does with finesse, except for where to place the lifted foot. He guesses, between the legs he might step on something, so opts out for the outside of Evan's thigh. He did feel obligated to explain, "Uh, I didn't want to crush anything valuable?" It wasn't part of his plan, if he had one at all, but Evan took it for what it was worth, "Oh, nothing bothers me!" Whatever was on there minds, it seemed like the game plan was changed up, Rusty on the log, looking down, Evan's eyes looking at the sizzling, smooth chest, "Me neither!" They stay affixed for a few seconds, neither moving, just staring, until Rusty asks, "So, what do we do now?" It's been a while since Evan's been nervous at anything, having gotten it on with dozens of cowpokes, but this particular instance off the normal track, "You take your shirt off...I take mine off?" "Off?" Rusty hadn't discovered, his shirt off, but lassoed around his wrists, "Oh. Almost!" Giggling, a trait of being like a stranger in a foreign capital, "Oh yeah," he pulls at the shirt, not caring if the sleeves went inside out. Sitting up as best he could, at any time Evan felt leaning a few inches in could bring his lips to the crinkles in Rusty's pants, but his main focus was evening up the score, stripping the shirt. "Wow, that's awesome!" "What's awesome?" Evan asks, looking down upon himself, with arms behind him, working the shirt off his wrists. With thoughts spoken out loud, it made Rusty feel embarrassed about Evan's hairy chest, "Nothing. Forget it." Instead of braking new ground, Evan returns to an original theme, "I wear the hat, because it's kind of a safety zone for me. I work around a bunch of guys all day. The hat," he stops, stutters, "it uh, kind of shield my eyes...from more than the hot sun." Wearing the same kind of hat, Rusty's was a grayish color, looking like it had been weather-beaten by the elements. Though, he didn't know what Evan was getting at. Sitting there, half-naked, Rusty turns his lips inward, licking them from inside his own mouth, wanting it be some of that furry stuff on Evan's chest, "Sorry. I guess I'm not that bright." "I think you could be!" Head popping back, it wasn't something Rusty expected, "Really? Like, how would that go?" Making his intentions known, Evan acts like a commander of a vessel, "Stand up a minute." Rusty stands, "Now what?" Instead of words, Evan leans forward, puts a hand behind him, on the dirt floor. Using it as a brace, he scoots legs back, until he comes to kneeling. Dusting both hands off, he says, "Just go with, okay?" This was weird, but not which Rusty wasn't wanting it more, if it meant getting a taste of Evan's chest, "Okay," he says with a bit of not knowing where this was going. Rusty allows the implications run rapid, like a river through his mind, allowing Evan to unbuckling, unzipping. Having dropped Rusty's pants to the ankles, Evan says, rubbing hands together, like a doctor prepping for surgery, "Next!" Rusty felt before it happening, Evan's thumbs on each side of his underwear. Feeling them pulled down a millimeter, he places both hands on Evan's hands, "Wait a sec." With quick thinking, if he didn't want to lose a growing ember in his pants, Evan says, "If your grand-pappy is anything like mine, he said a man has to take chances. That is if it doesn't lead him to trouble. Do you think there's any harm in a fellow helping another?" Releasing Evan's hands, it wasn't Rusty's loins drawing a blank, "Okay." Nudging his knees closer, hands got busy. His cowboy bud wasn't like other guys, Evan taking it slow, which he could not dispute it was kind of sexy, working Rusty's white briefs down, till the moderately hairy pubes gave way to the bottom of the barrel. Rusty, he bit a lip, and regardless of not taking a shower, he was sweating profusely. Being smooth, a guy could feel every drop, drip. Sensing Rusty's nervous attire, Evan had wanted to jump the gun and lick every sizzling stream of sweat, but kept his cool, "I take it this your first time?" "First time for what?" Evan knew `first time' guys, which is why at times he didn't dilly-dally around. He would had liked to have studied every nook and cranny of Rusty's pubes. If he had, it's possible Rusty could lose some momentum. Instead, he didn't explain, just did it, opening wide and sliding Rusty's shaft onto his palate. Out of insecurity, Rusty's moves back. However, there was no room for his heels to move, reason why Rusty's fat cock didn't pull out of Evan's mouth. Evan, sensing Rusty's maneuver, which would have put him over the log, onto his back, with possibly serious injury, grabs him around the back of the ass. That's all it took, was hugging Rusty at the hips, for Evan to gag! When Evan grabbed him, Rusty in return put hands on the top of Evan's shoulders, which made it a cinch to dislodge the obstruction in his bud's throat, "Are you okay, Evan?" After a choke, a few coughs, Evan couldn't deny this went way far better than the route he chose, but was humble in his approach, "Thanks for the," coughs, "concern." "No problem," Rusty says with sincerity. Though, with a birds-eye view of the canyon of Evan's chest, Rusty had to admit to himself, with Evan out of harm's way, it was a go ahead to rekindle efforts. "What do we do now?" Evan had to smile. With other dudes, a spur of the moment sex romp would not need to be prompted by any set of regulation, "Do? Whatever comes naturally!" Feeling compelled to lead the way, Evan wasn't into writing down a long list, rather just go at it. From being bowled over onto his bumb, he got situated on his knees. At the same time, his hands caress Rusty's thighs. Running through Rusty's mind, like he's already `been there, done that,' is not with baby logic, rather anticipating the joys of Evan's mouth. Different this time, it's not his briefs being ripped from around his hips, but Evan moving right on it, "Oh-h-h-h, mm-mm," he sighs, looking to the almost roofless cabin, with eyes closed. All he can think of, looking down, feeling it before collecting words, "I guess you've done this," Evan hits a `nerve', he sighs, "before?" So engrossed, Evan just responds with a guttural, "Mm." Then suddenly, Rusty realizes Evan sucking him without using hands. No which it didn't feel awesomely good, slowly having a tongue run around his cock, the force of suction pulling him in, then being let out of Evan's mouth to the flange, sucked back in, Rusty did have curiosity towards what Even was doing with his hands. If he bent too far to the left, Rusty knew there could be a danger of pulling his cock out, so to alleviate this situation, he hung onto his own shaft at the base. >From this, Evan gets the notion and like he's tutored other guys, on what he wants, stops unzipping for the moment and puts Rusty's hand on his own head. "Huh?" Rusty wonders what that gesture is for. Instead of words, Evan slaps himself on the back of the head, right over Rusty's hand. "Like, oh my god, isn't that gonna..." What Rusty thought, Evan felt, were two different things. Unlike stabbing Evan in the throat the first time, second time do over, there was no choking, nor spitting. Then Rusty figures out, no matter what he says, he's not going to get a response, so just stands there. He does take hint and presses his hand to the back of Evan's head. Doing this with rather an experimental flair, he finds the chain reaction, feeding himself deeper into his cocksucker's throat cavity. It tending to be tighter than the mouth, the girth around his tube gave Rusty a sense of feeling awesome, so he did it more. Then his hand broke free of Evan's mane, when his cocksucker comes off, but still strokes, "Like that, do ya?" "Like what?" Rusty was sketchy on the details. "This?" Evan strokes Rusty with his own saliva the factor keeping it moist. Hand tight-loose-tight-loose, while stroking, provides the explanation. "Feels real good. Are you going to..." lost for words to describe, Rusty chooses, "get back at it?" "Sort of," Evan leaves it open for senatorial discussion, smiling up at the cock-owner. Again, Rusty not sure of anything, just shrugs his shoulders. Instead of a long-winded explanation, which could possibly take the winds out of his sail, or blood reversing itself from the damned up canal, does a turnaround, falling on his knees, bumb stuck in the upward position. "Hmm," Rusty goes to push his cowboy up, which he realizes, his shaggy head void of it. Regardless, in his mind he's thinking of Hoot, how he one time he mistook a mare for being in heat, "you don't mean..." For once, Evan thinking them on the same page, "Oh yes I do!" Taking it slow, Rusty says, "Um?" It's then, Evan getting the vibes either Rusty genuinely not knowing the protocol or, "Maybe it's not such a good idea." In one swoop, Evan had positioned himself from sitting, to erect on his knees. "What're you doing?" Upon staring at the delicious meal he already had a taste of, Evan had the inclination, the once wet, juicy sausage, dried out as it was now, would have never slid in without discomfort. Instead of explaining about lube, whether it was from a tube or result of human spit, "just sit back and enjoy it." `Sit?' Rusty thinks on it. It was a long drop to the log. Since concentrating so much on the naked man in front of him, when his bumb hit the rough wooden surface, it gave Rusty a little bounce, shaken and startled. He does finally realize, upon scanning the 22-year old from face to... "Holy cow, you're hard too?" After saying it, Rusty felt subconsciously, embarrassed! "Hmm," Evan acts the part of a professor, "I do believe you `are' attracted to men!" "No, really?" Rusty replies, though taken, by the first guy who ever implied he was gay. Shrugging both shoulders, Evan says, "I know you're kind of new at this, so," he was very kind, "I can do it for you, if you want?" Pressing on both knees, standing, Rusty, still unsure about anything which has happened in the past 40 minutes, gets up, "Wow, you're such a nice guy!" "It's the least I can do," Evan didn't mention, `for a dude with a big lollipop to suck on!' "Uh," Rusty rolls his eyes back and forth, like avoiding the fact, saying, "I don't know." Instead of waiting until the decade is out, Evan stoops, his mouth open, filling it up. "Oh-h-wow..." Rusty does step over the log this time, backing off. "What's up?" Evan looks up at him. Strangely, the early evening air which made his wet cock feel strange, but more, his own hand, feeling his barrel greased up, "Like, how do you know all about this stuff, being gay...you know?" Evan was getting frustrated here. Regardless of this being a first time experience for his bud, "The way a person learns, is by doing. Not, standing around, doing nothing!" It was a hint, Rusty getting it, "Sorry," he holds his own cock in hand, "it is getting kind of...limp?" "I can tell." Evan plays with Rusty now, "If you would only bring that sweet sausage over here, I could fix that for you?!" This time, Rusty was prepared. He knew Evan was going to gobble him up. What he wasn't suspecting of, is being groped under the balls and using them to reel him in. Though, he went at it with trust. "Mm-mm," Evan says, taking each of the teen's balls in his mouth. Rusty, he smiled, thinking of it like a comedy sketch, that his balls could cause anyone to moan in pleasure, much like a chef serving up a scrumptious meal! It tickled him even more, the sounds Evan made, the moans, but also like, his cock were this big, European menu item, "Like it, do you, Evan?" Much like he would treat Hoot, Rusty put his hand on the top of Evan's head, combing through the mane with his fingers. Like a subconscious test, the head was just the tip of his curiosity, venturing further. Soon, it became clear, Evan monopolizing the time spent together, going at Rusty's cock and balls, like a savory meal. Then, suddenly popping off with a slurp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Evan saying, "How about yourself?" Shocked, or most likely not knowing what to do, Rusty rebounds, "How about myself, what?" Well, Evan didn't think it would hurt to ask, "You want to fuck me?" It wasn't any secret, what `fuck' meant, Rusty having seen two horses go at it, but two guys, "Like, how would that go?" "Yeah, like how would that go, Ev?" The sound of laughter, Al standing there, holding his fat belly, he could have been a stand in for Santa Claus, easy. Rusty, shocked out of his gourd, grabbed for coverup, his jeans. Evan, paying no mind to covering up his leaky cock, stands, saying, "Hey, Al, how about showing Rusty here how to fuck a guy? You game?" Whether Evan knew it or not, his little gesture at having his own ass exploited, was making Rusty feel jittery, to the point of grabbing up the rest of his clothes. It then dawned on him, "You told Al we were meeting here?" Al tried squaring things away, "Don't worry kid. Your secret is safe with me..." Rusty, he felt betrayed. Though, Evan, caught up in the ecstasy of the moment, or rather seeing Al whip out his massive softness, dares to say, "Oh, grow up, Rusty!" Even though he was trying to be a man about it, Rusty took his things, left without a word, the feeling coming over him, like tears were about to flow. However, it wasn't about not finishing up what he thought was started, but the fact Evan had talked up `trust' and the opposite just happened. Instead of riding Hoot home, he started up the path, holding the reins, walking beside his `best friend,' "It looks like you and me, Hoot." Then, somewhere around the old berry patch, he stopped and thought, what could perfectly, more vengeful than turning back and telling Evan what he thought, "Yeah, give you a piece of my mind, cowboy!" Doing a loop around Hoot, Rusty turns fully around, "C'mon boy." Even though a fully disgusting thought, he thought, "Maybe I should let you fuck him, Hoot!" Hoot let out a whimper! "I was joking! Okay?" Rusty pets him. Then Rusty was okay, walking back to the old homestead with only his boots on. Clutched in one hand was a mishmash of jeans, briefs, socks and shirt. Thinking about it, Rusty thought if anyone would happen along and see him, what a sight he would be! He ran into no one, except sounds from the old, dilapidated cabin. A token of revenge, Rusty tied Hoot off to a tree and left his clothing there, except hat and boots, easiest to put on. Sneaking around, he peered in between two slots of wood, barring entry through a window, not which it mattered. He put a hand over his own mouth, when he almost voiced opinion of seeing Evan, faced down, running the same course of the log. Lying on top of him was a fully naked Al. He smiled, thinking it wasn't much difference than the two horses, the difference being man and animal, `Gross!' Differently, it were two men, going at it like it was the most natural thing to do. Not which the thought it hadn't come to him, what area of a dude's bod would the cock go in...well, that afternoon all his questions were beginning to be answered. One thing which Rusty hadn't even a notion, of how Al, grinding himself against Evan, he wondered if Evan's cock would survive the pounding against the rough bark? It became a short-lived question in his mind, seeing one of Evan's hands, squashed under him. Someone could say, seeing incites a person into doing something, but Rusty's hand sliding down, engaging with his own center of emotion, between his legs, came from throbbing balls and not his brain, so he thought. He had never thought about it, how big he could get, but biting a lip and feeling himself `grow', Rusty knew he was `big'. All it took was a look downwards to see what lay on the palate of his palm, "Wow," he said soft, but then looked up to see if he interrupted. It taking over him, as if being inhabited by an alien from outer space, nothing in the world mattered to 18-year old, except the most important of things, getting himself off. By now, it didn't matter if or how hard Al was pounding Evan's ass, all he wanted, was to will his hand into stroking himself into oblivion. No longer in need of the visual, Rusty tore his eyes away from between the slats at the window and in a twirling motion, slapped his back right up against the outside of the cabin wall. He was keen enough to keep quiet, but even tightlipped, he made sounds of how it felt to stroke his hand up and down his own shaft. "What's going on out here?" "Oh shit!" Rusty bellowed out. Like a normal gesture, when being caught red-handed, or rather in this case, `wet-handed', Rusty froze, his left hand firmly wrapped around his hard cock. Al, who looked rather out of sequence with the scenery, totally naked, gazes down, "Lordy, lordy, lordy, don't it look like our farm boy beats us out, Evan?!" Still frozen in place, he hadn't realized it, when he slapped his back against the wall, he made the old cabin shake. With Yellowstone just a few mountain ranges away, Al says, "I reckon what we heared, wasn't an earthquake!" Rusty had wondered, since Al could only speak half-English, half-ignoramus, how he got the job of head man at the ranch, well it didn't take much to get what was on Al's mind, "I better go." "Nonsense," Al pulled at Rusty's shoulder, holding him back. "Might as well make use of that plow!" "I gotta go," Rusty strove to get to Hoot, "my father will be wondering where I am." Al knew, they all did, knowing the father and son were not real close, "Is that so? Well, I happen to know it, your old man went to drink up the watering hole in town, with the rest-a-them hooligans!" Wiping his ass, Evan comes out of the cabin, "Let him go, Al." "A good piece of meat like that?" Of course, when Rusty's back was towards him, Al was thinking of dumping another load. Such is the case when men get hot in the saddle! "I'm leaving," Rusty says with distinction, walking over to Hoot, picking up his briefs and stepping into them. Before he even gets one foot in it, Al snatches it away, "Nonsense, you and your old man...think you're too good for us pee ons?" "Fine," Rusty says, leaving Al holding his briefs. Rather than take his boots off to put his pants on, Rusty takes his pants by the belt loops, hops on Hoot and hightails it out of there. It felt really weird, riding Hoot, his boner scraping along the backbone of hair, but he was also scared shit, not knowing what Al's intentions were. Back at the barn, he tied Hoot up and raced to the house. He did stop at a fir tree to make sure the coast was clear. Rusty didn't want to be accused of being a streaker. It was not only a working horse farm, but guests from the city and Scott Bluff's, vacationing there. "Oh, man," Rusty could only think of the repercussions if his old man found him out, a complaint about him running across the yard, his balls bouncing to the rhythm of his steps. Then, as he rushed upstairs, jumped into the shower, grief and anxiety filled him, Rusty wondering what would happen if his secret was not safe with Evan. He had mixed feelings float in, thinking Evan was not the one to be untrusting with. Al already spoke about his father behind his back. Warm water streaming down his bod, it had a relaxing effect, but also thoughts about his grandpa. Whereas Rusty had trouble going to his father, when his grandpa were alive, he could go to him with anything, anytime. With that void in his life, Rusty kept every thought tucked away in his mind. He took it off to boarding school with him, after his grandpa died. Any time he thought about boarding school, he thought of his father cutting the apron strings, not wanting him around. Rusty had hoped things would be different, home on the range and working at the farm this summer, before heading off to college. It's why he began to confide in Evan, break down, feel comfortable with him, an aching to be able to have a friend, like him, being understanding. Rusty didn't want to leave the shower. It was his comfort zone at the moment. However, there were guests to worry about. Even though Friday night the cook was off, there were little deeds, like fresh towels to think about. Too, if anyone wanted to use the swimming pool, he was the lifeguard on duty. Turning off the water, Rusty allowed the water to stream down over him. It would not be the first time he's jerked off in the shower, though usually before and not after. However, right now, Rusty wasn't the frame of mind for stroking, having warched Al fucking Evan over a half hour ago. Then, with the inclination, Al being such a bastard, trying to force him into doing something he was not prepared to follow through with, he assumed fucking or being fucked, Al was not a good guy, in his mind. Evan, he was borderline trustworthy. He jumped, hearing a wrap of knuckles on his door. "That you dad?" It wasn't. With intimidation, Evan says, "You in there, Rusty? It's just me. I want to apologize to you for...you know." As when they were alone, in the old homestead, figuring out who and how he was going to get him out of his clothes, Rusty thought the calm had returned to Evan's voice, "Is Al with you?" "I know, after what happened, you have no reason whatsoever to trust me, Rusty, but I swear, I'm alone." To be on the safe side, Rusty picked up a swimming trophy, on the way to the door. His chummy self, Evan smiles, saying, "Oh! Is that for me?" Sure enough, Evan was alone and like he saw him this morning, was fully attired. "I oughta drop it on your toe, for pulling a stunt like that!" Evan was certain Rusty got the wrong impression, "I didn't tell Al we were meeting out at the homestead. He followed me there. You gotta believe me." "I do." "Really?" Evan was surprised. To show he wasn't sore at Evan, Rusty, feeling wiser, says, "If you can manage to not get hard over watching me get dressed, you can come in...close the door." "I swear. I'll make it up to you, Rusty." Rusty, facing the bed, his back towards Evan, came up with a devil of a good idea, "Well, you know, with Al surprising me and all, I never did get off?" More than willing, Evan volunteers readily, "You want me to take it up the ass or down the throat?" "Your ass? I'm not putting my thing where Al's thing was!" "That settles it then!" With his back to the bed, it was easy for Evan to bowl Rusty over with his tongue. Like he had rehearsed it a million times, Evan worked his clothes off almost as fast as his tongue made Rusty stiff. Not knowing what to do, but lay back and enjoy it, it's exactly what Rusty did, arms bent on an angle, like being held up by bandits, lying down. The good feeling surrounding his shaft made him forget about `trust'! "Here," Evan broke his lips off with a slurp, "do something!" Rusty, what did he know to do, it being his first sexcapade with a dude, "Like what?" Getting up, Evan dragged himself up Rusty's bod. It hadn't been his intention, his cock meeting Rusty's wet, hard shaft. "Oh-h, now that feels good!" Grabbing Rusty's hands, sliding back down, Evan says, "It can only get better, pal!" Oh, now they were pals! "Feel me up, if you want to," Evan gives Rusty the free-roaming clause. `Wow!' Rusty thought, finally getting the edge on touching those hairy pecs he dreamed about after first lying eyes on Evan in the buff.. "Oh-h-h, yeah...more of that!" Evan stopped sucking up for a moment. "More of what?" Rusty asks, not realizing his fingers flowed through the jungle of Evan's chest, perking up his peaks. "This, you idiot!" No threat, but it did startle Rusty, while going down on him till he felt `throat', Evan's hands reaching up and pinching his nips! Then, popping off with a smile, Evan says, "Like that, do you?" "Like what?" Rusty didn't know what he meant. As if a connoisseur of cock, Evan says, "Listen, I've had dozens of these on my tongue. I know when a man likes his nubs felt up. Goes right to his cock. Like I felt it?" "You did?" Rusty looks at his pink nips, gives a look of wondering what's up with that. Then, Rusty feels, if he likes it, maybe Evan does too! He learned much that late afternoon, like how much a man's nips can take, or even though he blasted with wave after wave, down Evan's throat, he never once choked. He did have question, "Like, how much do you think I shot out?" At his side in bed, Evan says, "Who knows? Who cares." Then, slapping his hand down, Rusty goes, "Ew-w-w-we!" "Oh yeah...thanks for that too!" Strange, Rusty thinks, "Like, what did I do?" "Well...actually, I jerked myself off, but it's you blasting down my throat which made me come. Next time you can give me a handjob, or we can switch places?" "Um," Rusty was quick to think, "no thanks." Even though he was now christened `gay', it didn't mean he was comfortable with another man's shaft on his tongue. Though, that would be something to think about, Rusty tasting Evan's goo, "Um, I've got to get ready to lifeguard. Pool opens at 5." "Oh really? The way I hear it, you're out of a job for the evening. All the city slickers are headed into town for some getting down and line-dancing." "That's cool. Hungry?" Rusty sits up. "Very," Evan licks his lips. "I meant, `real' food!" Evan replies. "Uh sure. That's what I thought you meant!" % Copyright 2016 T. Chase McPhee "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, or you will be forced to your knees.