Date: Thu, 14 Oct 2021 11:59:37 -0700
From: Backwoods Boy <backwoodsnatureboy@gmail.com>
Subject: The Ranch Boy Next Door - Part 41

Moving On

I woke up the next morning thinking about my evening at the
roadhouse. Shago's suggestion to go there for dinner hadn't been
spontaneous. As often as he went there, he knew the bartender would be
shirtless, and he'd deliberately encouraged me to do the same.

Although I doubted that he'd lined up the participants, he'd planned the
lesson on making me more assertive in a public gay setting. He knew I would
soon be joining my older peers there, and I should be prepared for what
would happen.

After a shower, I headed upstairs.

"Hi, Mom and Dad. What's for breakfast?"

Mom smiled at me. "Is food all you think about?"

I smiled back. "When I'm not thinking about how well hung Colton is."

Mom sighed. "Why do those comments always come back to haunt me?"

"I'd go into more detail on my thoughts, but it would be too much
information."

Mom supplied me with a stack of pancakes. "Perhaps you have another topic?"

"I do. Coach suggested I oughta spend some time walking in nature, so
that's what I'm gonna do today. For the most part, I'll be on our
property. I do plan to go to the quarry for a while, though. I wanna see
what it looks like in winter."

Dad had a suggestion. "You can take the pickup if you want to."

"Thanks, Dad, but it's not too far and not too cold out, and I think it'll
be helpful for me to use the four-wheeler."

"Okay, but if you change your mind, the pickup is available."

I finished breakfast and went out to the barn to take care of Oreo and
Domino. I was wearing the collar, and Mom and Dad had to have noticed it,
but they hadn't said a word.

When I was finished, I went back to the house. They were still in the
kitchen. It looked like I'd interrupted something, so I did my trick of
stopping on the stairs to listen. Mom spoke first.

"Do you have any idea why he would start wearing a dog collar?"

"Absolutely none. With that caption, I doubt if it's bondage-related, so it
must be something else."

"Let's let it ride. It's probably a phase of his recovery process."

"I agree."

Whether or not they were right in their analysis, I didn't know. I was glad
they weren't going to push it, though. I was becoming attached to my
collar.

************

I'd spent time before sitting by the creek doing what I called listening to
nature. Maybe because it was winter or maybe because being in motion
produced different results, the day became one of reminiscence and
self-discovery. I started by walking down to our picnic shelter, and
thinking about the times I'd spent there with Aiden. I couldn't really call
it "fun", at least not at first, but helping him recover had been a
rewarding experience. I watched the creek flow endlessly by. Like time, I
thought. The pieces of wood the creek carried had no control over their
journey. How much control did I have over mine?

Walking around the barn brought memories of working with Rusty on its
construction, and his and Nate's help with the pasture fencing. The
thoughts brought pain, but less than a few days earlier. It was a lot like
my breakup with Logan. Time heals. Perhaps we'd work together again
someday.

And the animals themselves, especially Oreo and her contribution to Nate's
recovery. I smiled slightly. That was one time I saw clearly what Rusty was
too bullheaded to admit.

Rolling the ATV out of the barn brought recollections of Rusty and me
bringing it home, and the sexy fun we had doing it. I fired it up and
headed for the quarry. The trip reminded me of the many times Rusty and I
had ridden there together.

As it did with everything else, snow made the quarry a different place. It
covered the level rocks and clung to the sides of the basalt columns. A
crust of ice covered the pool. The swallows were absent, wisely in warmer
places. The quarry was a dead, silent place in winter.

The diving rock was free of snow. I sat on it and reflected. This was where
it had all begun, and where so many memories were made - swimming, diving,
learning, teaching, laughing, playing - too many to enumerate.

Walking around to the other side, the meadow where I'd given Rusty two
first times and he'd given me one was covered with snow. I peeked under a
nearby rock. The lube was still there. I was strangely curious as to
whether it would be usable after freezing.

Returning to my ATV, I looked back at what had become an important place
for me. There would be good times here again, perhaps even to be shared
with Rusty and Nate.

I started up the ATV. It was time to head for home and look into the
future.

************

When I arrived at Matt's place, the party was in full swing. My knock on
the door went unanswered, so I let myself in. I tossed my coat with the
others on one of the sofas and looked around.

Country western music played in the background as a couple dozen guests
mingled in crowded conditions. All were junior high and high school
football players. This was a guy party, but except for Josh and Matt, all
of these guys were straight.

The room was warm, and a number of shirts had been discarded. I smiled. If
nothing else, the party had eye candy.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, Hot Kid. How are you doing?"

I turned around. "Hey, Matt. I'm doin' great. Thanks for inviting me."

He smiled. "You're quite welcome. There's drinks in the cooler and snacks
in the kitchen. Help yourself."

"Thanks, I will."

I selected a soft drink from the cooler and looked around. Across the room,
I spotted another exception to the straight majority. Nate, who had been on
the ninth-grade team, was engaged in an animated discussion with four
varsity players, including Josh and Jaylen.

With his shirt off, it was clear that weightlifting was indeed turning Nate
into a little hunk. It was also building his self-confidence. A friendly
slap on the side of the head from Jaylen, six inches taller and thirty
pounds heavier, produced a happy grin and a flurry of playful punches from
Nate, followed by a noogie from Jaylen. The friendly exchange left them all
laughing.

I joined a group of junior varsity jocks. The conversation centered on
football, of course, with a focus on how to score touchdowns and how to
score on cheerleaders. Neither topic inspired me. I excused myself,
claiming a need to use the bathroom.

When I came out of the bathroom, Matt's bedroom door was open. Cooter stood
in the doorway, barefoot and shirtless, nonchalantly buttoning his
Levi's. Behind him, one of Nate's teammates sat naked on the edge of the
bed, his sad face and slumped shoulders a portrait of regret.

Cooter closed the door. "Hey, Hot Kid. Good to see you. Matt said you'd be
here."

"Nice to see you too, Cooter, though I didn't expect to."

 I followed him back to the living room, where he grabbed a beer and
invited me to join him on a couch.

"The bedroom recreation is why I come to these parties. There's always some
straight jock like Alan who comes on to me, wanting to feel a cock inside
for the first time. I'm always happy to provide the experience."

I touched his bare chest. "Not that you weren't trying to encourage his
interest."

He laughed. "As you demonstrated so well last night at the roadhouse, it
pays to advertise."

I smiled. "Point well taken."

"What I don't come for is the Bud Light - or the conversation."

"You're not into sports?"

"Doing, yes. Watching, yes. Replays forever, no. I can hold my own with
sports fans when I'm tending bar, but that's where it ends. And I don't
need lessons on seducing cheerleaders."

I laughed. "You must have been in the same conversation I was."

"They're all the same. I'd rather talk about classic books, old movies,
jazz music, or craft beer. Which reminds me, I was impressed with your
knowledge of the Payette Brewing Company options."

I chuckled. "That was pure luck. I learned the difference at a party last
summer."

"And that's the best way to learn - by experimenting"

"Like with sex."

He smiled slightly. "Yeah, like with sex."

He paused for a moment. "I like your collar. It looks good on you. Does it
have a special meaning?"

I smiled. "It doesn't mean I'm attached to anyone. I wear it because I like
it. What does it mean to you?"

He pondered for a few moments. "It's an intriguing paradox - simultaneously
an invitation to have an adventure, and a warning not to. You're like a
carnival ride with a sign that announces, 'The Most Fun You Can Have With
Your Clothes On', and underneath, 'Danger - Ride at Your Own Risk'." He
smiled. "A warning that only serves to encourage risk-taking."

I laughed out loud. "I like that. So, are you a risk-taker?"

He pondered the question for a few moments. "I could become one."

We paused briefly as Alan emerged from the hallway. His look of regret had
been replaced by one of glum resignation. After tossing an unopened package
of Trojans into the trash, he opened a beer and chugged it, and then popped
a second one as he joined a group of friends. Cooter laughed softly.

"Beer is the perfect post-penetration painkiller, good for both physical
and emotional suffering. Even so, he'll be sore and remorseful for a day or
so"

"How many times did you screw him?"

Cooter smiled. "Only once, but quite thoroughly. He'll get over it. Then
he'll be back for more."

************

Cooter got up to look for another beer and something to eat. While he was
gone, I watched Nate and his group. Turning out for football had been a
stretch for Nate, but like weightlifting, it had done him a world of
good. Happy and playful, he didn't seem like the same person I'd met while
baling hay for Gramps.

Now shirtless too, Jaylen stood next to Nate, his right arm around Nate's
neck, his dark body contrasting with Nate's lighter one. His fingertips
gently teased Nate's nipples and traced random patterns on his chest.

Nate's left hand casually explored Jaylen's well-muscled back before
sliding up to hang from his far shoulder. He looked up at Jaylen with a
smile of adoration that spoke of unconditional hero worship.

Jaylen smiled back encouragingly, and playfully ruffled Nate's hair. He
looked down the hallway, and then whispered into Nate's ear. Nate grinned
and nodded his head.

Cooter returned in time to watch Nate and Jaylen go into Matt's room and
close the door. I looked at him questioningly.

"Do you have to make bed reservations ahead of time?"

He laughed. "There's not as much demand as it seems. Mostly straight guys
who want to experiment with gay sex. Matt views it as a his contribution to
sex education."

He resumed our earlier conversation. "So, did you have a good time last
night?"

"Oh, yeah! Thanks for the beer recommendation. The food was excellent, and
the service superb." I grinned. "And the after-dinner activities were fun
too."

He laughed. "Thanks. And thanks for the tip you left. Shago was generous
too."

"He always is." I paused. "Shago says you're a friend of his."

"Yes, he's a regular customer. We've become good friends."

"How do you get away with serving minors?"

He smiled wryly. "I think a little bribing goes on, but I don't know the
details. I've been told to use my best judgement. When someone your age is
with an older guy like Shago, I don't worry about it."

I made another subject change. "If I recall correctly, I saw you workin'
with the carnival at the fair last summer. I assumed you weren't local."

"At the time, I wasn't local. I grew up in Boise, and I started with the
carnival right out of high school last June. When I turned nineteen in
September, I began working for the roadhouse."

"Do you live out there?"

"There's an old 1930's-style motel a short distance down the side road. It
belongs to the roadhouse, and they use it for employee housing."

I realized I was asking a lot of questions.

"Sorry if I sound like I'm doin' an interview, but I'm genuinely
interested."

He smiled. "No problem. Like most people, I don't mind talking about
myself."

I paused. "There's one other thing I'd like to ask you. At the fair, one of
my younger friends wandered off with you. As you may know, there was an
abuse situation going on, and people were paranoid about things like that."

"Yes, with the abuse case on national news, I knew about it. I remember the
kid. It was poor judgement on my part, but also overreaction on the part of
others. No harm was intended. He seemed interested, so I might have given
him a blow job, but I wasn't going to screw him."

I paused briefly. "I'm saying more than I should now, but I think the
problem was that the older kid with him was an abuse victim who had a
flashback because of your physical resemblance to the abuser. I hope that
helps explain the overreaction."

"It does." He paused. "I know you can't say more, but I recognized the
older kid as the one who went into the bedroom with Jaylen. He didn't
recognize me when I talked with Jaylen earlier. And I hope he's recovered
as well as it seems."

Correctly not expecting a response, Cooter resumed the original
conversation.

"So, as to the after-dinner activities. I gather you had a good time with
Joey?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I did."

"And you were gone for quite a while with Matt."

Both the discussion and Cooter's hot body were turning me on. I pulled off
my shirt and adjusted my growing boner.

"Yeah, he bent me over the picnic table at the end of the building. Not
quite the thing to be doin' outdoors at this time of year, but it was fun."
I smiled. "I think the invitation to this party was a bribe to get inside
me."

Cooter smiled. "It worked, didn't it?"

"I'd have done it without the bribe."

"Are you always that easy?"

"Just with friends." I smiled suggestively. "And any friend of Shago's is
my friend too."

He put his hand on my stomach and slid it down my treasure trail.

"I think you're trying to encourage my interest."

I leaned back into the couch, put my hands behind my head, and smiled at
him.

"I'm only following your example. As you said, it pays to advertise."

Gently rubbing my abs with the palm of his hand, he smiled.

"You're wasting your time. I've been interested since you first walked into
the roadhouse yesterday. I hope you'll come home with me and stay for the
night."

Bingo! I wanted to do a victory dance, but I restrained myself.

"I'd love to do that, but I gotta check with my dad before goin' that
far. I've got his pickup, and the ink on my driver's license is barely
dry."

He slid his hand under my waistband and briefly touched my pole.

"Let me know what you find out."

I went to the relative quiet of the bathroom to make the call, hoping my
parents were still up. Dad answered immediately.

"Hi, Dad. I have an out-of-the-ordinary situation I gotta discuss with
you."

"Go ahead."

"A friend of Shago's I met yesterday has invited me to go home with him. He
works at the roadhouse Shago and I went to last night, and he lives
nearby. That's twenty miles north of here. I'll be following him there, and
since I'll be there all night, it'll be daylight when I come home. I know
it's a stretch in a couple of ways."

"Are you comfortable with the situation and with driving that far?"

"Yeah, I am. I like him and I trust Shago's judgement, and the roads are
fine."

The response was immediate. "Have a good time, and as your mother would
say, be careful."

"Thanks, Dad."

"And thank you for letting us know what you're doing."

"You're welcome, of course. I'll see you in the morning."

************

I followed Cooter to his apartment. Once we were parked in front of his
unit, he led me inside and turned on the floor lamp near the door.

Originally designed for two double beds, the room now held one queen size
bed with its head towards the right wall. The bed divided the apartment
into a front and back section.

In the back, the small kitchenette to the right shared the space with a
small bathroom on the left. The kitchenette was supplied with a vintage
refrigerator, a two-burner electric stove, and a small table with two
chairs. Much of the counter space was occupied by an older microwave.

To the front, a nightstand stood next to the bed with an easy chair beside
it. A loveseat-size sofa and two end tables occupied the space under the
front window.

Along the left wall stood a wardrobe and a dresser with an older TV on
top. Next to the TV sat a Bose music system, small but effective, a modern
electronic device in an otherwise dated environment. Cooter hooked up his
iPhone, and soon the sound of soft instrumental jazz filled the room.

I removed my shoes and left them next to his near the door. My coat went
into the wardrobe alongside his. He pulled off his shirt, so I did too.

"Would you like something to drink?"

I smiled. "Maybe a pre-penetration painkiller? That Imperial Stout would be
great if you have it."

He laughed. "You won't need a painkiller, but I do have the beer. One of
the fringe benefits of working for the roadhouse is the variety of
beers. One of the older workers has to buy it for me since I'm only
nineteen. I can serve but not purchase. Crazy."

He looked in the refrigerator. "I have a bottle of a new beer we just got
in - Backwoods Logyard IPA - from a small brewery in Washington. Would you
like to try that?"

"Sure, why not. And I like the music. I've gotten so used to country
western that I almost forgot other kinds exist."

He brought us each a glass of beer and directed me to the loveseat before
sitting down in the easy chair.

Off duty and dressed only in Levi's, he looked a lot more like the Cooter I
remembered - a muscular, shaggy-blond, self-confident stud with a perfect
body. I didn't realize I was staring until he smiled and said, "Like what
you see?"

I laughed. "Sorry. I was thinkin' about the first time I saw you. I was
lookin' down at you from the Ferris wheel. I thought you were awesomely
hot. I still do."

He smiled at me. "Thanks for the compliment. You know, you're not bad
yourself. Hot Kid is the perfect nickname. And now that we've established a
mutual admiration society..."

I smiled appreciatively. I liked his sense of humor, and his openness,
honesty, and easy-going style. He seemed to be someone I could connect
with.

When we finished our beers, he offered me another, which I declined. Taking
the glasses back to the kitchen sink, he rinsed them and put them away in
the cupboard. In his small space, a place for everything and everything in
its place was the rule.

When he came back, he turned down the music and turned the floor lamp to
its lowest setting. Without further comment, he took his lube from the
nightstand drawer, unbuttoned his Levi's, and casually greased an
impressive tool that had to be a good eight inches long. Now I understood
why Alan needed a painkiller.

Taking me by the hands, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me. Guiding me
to the bed, he carefully laid me down on my back, and then tugged gently on
the cuffs of my Levi's. I unbuttoned them, and he pulled them off. In the
semidarkness, his muscular body seemed to glow, as if giving off radiant
energy from within.

Dropping on top of me, he kissed me gently and then, as I responded, more
passionately. He pressed our abs together, trapping our rock-hard poles,
stimulating them with slow circular hip movements. Soon his whole body
moved, grinding against mine, driving me crazy with lust.

For many long minutes, we twisted together in a sensual dance of carnal
pleasure controlled by his powerful body. I desperately wanted him inside,
but he seemed in no hurry to get there.

This was so much better than the casual sex of the night before. In fact,
there wasn't much from the past weeks, even months, that compared. I liked
the way Cooter kissed, the way he moved, the way his body molded itself
into mine, the way the Levi's he was still wearing felt against my skin.

Our movement slowed as he braced his legs between mine and rested his upper
body on his forearms. I felt pressure between my legs, and then he was
moving inside me, probing, exploring, learning the part of me that could
only be known this way.

Now he was thrusting in harder, his tough athletic body extracting pleasure
from my pliant one below. My hands flowed over his back, urging him on. He
was nearing the end. For long moments, time stood still. Then, with a sharp
cry of excitement, he emptied himself inside me.

He lay on top of me for a long time breathing heavily, his head next to
mine, his body sharing its warmth with me, his fingers stroking my face and
running through my hair. Then he gently pulled out. Raising himself on his
elbows he looked into my eyes and grinned.

"Do you suppose we could have sex sometime?"

"What if I said no?"

"I'd have to pull my jizz back out."

"That would be difficult. I guess I better say yes."

He kissed me.

"I knew you would. You are going to stay all night, aren't you?"

"Yeah, and come back as often as you'll let me."

He kissed me one more time.

"For you, the door will always be open."

************

In the morning, we walked to the roadhouse, hand in hand, for a genuine
ranch-boy breakfast and the best coffee around. Cooter insisted on putting
it on his employee tab, claiming he owed me for the best night of his
life. I knew he was exaggerating, but I was pleased anyway. I'd never
forget Rusty, but Cooter was well on the way to pushing him to the back of
my mind.


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