Cody Branson

Chapter 1 – The Cattle Drive

It was hotter'n Hades all day long. I felt like I swallered a drinking trough worth of dust. Most of the guys was sittin' here eatin' another night's plate of bacon and beans and some things that cookie passed off as biscuits. The boy sat tight to my left side, same place he was damn near all the time. Weren't many words spoken `tween us, the other fellers knowed not to mess with him. It was almost as if he was my property, leastwise it seemed that way to other folks. Now, when I say `boy', I don't want none a y'all to get the wrong ideer, Curtis was near full-growed, 15 summers behind him. He was half a head shorter than me; maybe twenty pounds lighter. Curt's momma was a whore. When ole Nancy come down with the love disease, she begged me to take him cause I was allus nice to her when I stopped through. There weren't no chance the boy was actually mine; I never stuck my pecker in her, she come along after I set my mind to menfolk. I never could refuse a stray though, so he rode with me after they set the box in the dirt. I been tryin' my best to teach the boy how to be a good man, but the good Lord knows I don't know nothin' about raisin' kids. I ain't seen but 25 summers my own self. The folks that found me in that burnt-out wagon reckoned I was about a year old when they found me; that was back in `53.

I stretched and got up and my shadow follered me. We had the early watch tonight; four hours still before we can hit the sack. Bill, Skinny Pete, Roscoe and Dallas were already tucked in and cutting logs. I didn't see Pearly and the half-breed, but I had my suspicions what they was up to. Me and Curt just mounted up and headed over to the herd. At least there was a moon tonight, three quarters full, seemed to be. I circled round the left and Curt went right and we met back up at the back of the herd. Everything was looking okay so far tonight. I was just settin' in the saddle and lookin' up at that big ole moon when the boy took me by surprise and put a big wet kiss on my mouth.

"What's got into you boy?" I asked.

"The moon's got me horned up, Cody" he whispered.

"Where'd you set up our bedrolls?" I asked.

"Up under the chuckwagon" he said.

"That old geezer may have trouble sleepin' tonight" I whispered with a smile.

We were wilted like day old funeral flowers by the time Bill and Skinny Pete came to relieve us and we dropped onto those bedrolls like sacks of taters. We were out like lights for a few hours anyway. The moon had traveled way across the sky and our sleeping place was well into deep shadows now. I stretched a little and let my hand fall onto Curt's sleeping body. My hand fell by memory right on a lump in his trousers. I started fiddlin' with the buttons and began to feel that lump getting firmer as I went. Yeah, I could tell he was indeed boned up. He weren't packin' anything queer big down there, it was pretty normal for a boy his age, I reckoned about 5 inches or so. The skin came down past the head and made a little nozzle, but I skint it back clear of the head `fore I took it in my mouth. There was a drop or two of piss and a speck or two of cheese but that was just added flavor for me. `Sides, by the time I got that cleared off Curt was rarin' and buckin' and holdin' my head on him tight, he was all the way into my throat. By gum, he said he was horned up and he weren't joshin' about that. All his friskiness was causin' my little gentleman to slobber into my pants and make a wet spot, so I reached down and unbuttoned `em and pulled him out into the night air. Curt let loose of my head long enough to spin around and take that big ole pacifier and go to bobbin' on it. Weren't neither one of us going to hold out much longer. In our new position, I'd managed to get even more of his pecker in my neck and my nose was buried in his sack which had pulled up tight to the bottom of his tube. He'd been a practicin' on swallowin' my dick for a week or two but he hadn't been able to stop chokin' hisself on it. That's why it surprised both of us when my dick popped somethin' in him and went on into his throat. My ass had a mind of its own and commenced to buckin' and I spewed his belly full of my juices before he pushed me back and let the last drippins coat his lips. On my end of the deal, as soon as it was cummin' he pulled so as just his head was in my mouth and gave me a good little spoonful of his best elixir. I savored it a minute before swallering it down. I was buttonin' back up as he turnt back around. He blowed out his air as his tongue slid around his lips cleaning up the last of my jelly. Above us, we could still hear cookie snorin'. The last hour or so of night we slept like the dead.

 

I was peaceful-like dreamin' when somebody kicked the bottom of my feet.

"Y'all kin either get up or I'll run you over with the chuckwagon" Cookie yelled, the ornery old bastard.

I shook the cobwebs out of my head and looked over at the other fellers all eatin' and laughin' at me and Curtis. We got up and rolled the bedding up and tied it off to our saddles. When we come back Cookie handed each of us a plate loaded with bacon and beans and a couple of them damnable `biscuits' he makes. I set mine down and went to get a mug of his coffee that was strong enough it'd put hair on your chest then make it fall out again. Curtis stuck with water from his canteen.

I looked around the group. Looks like nobody told Pearly about the dried injun seed on the side a his face. Bill and Skinny Pete was fadin' fast after taking the late shift. They'd ride in the wagon for the first part of the day and get some shuteye. The rest of us had several hundred head of cattle to get acrost a river this morning.

The first three hours we rode in a cloud of dust pushin' the beef up the trail toward the crossing. Finally, the river came into view. We started puttin' the squeeze on the stock, forcin' them into the water. Once the ones in the front started, the rest fell in behind them. We made sure that any stragglers found their way. When the herd was across safe, we took a break and all of us got naked and washed out our clothes and our stinkin' selves. Me and Curt ended up doin' our washin' next to Nat and Bose; they used to be buffalo soldiers. Curt couldn't keep his eyes off'n Bose. Natty was brown, but Bose was black as night. Nat was hung pretty normal like the rest of us, but Bose had a big ole tube of smoked sausage hangin' about 7 inches at rest with the head peeking out of the coal black skin at the end. I elbowed Curtis in the ribs and told him it weren't polite to stare at folk, but I don't reckon ole Bose minded much. That big ole thing looked to be getting bigger as the washin' went on. I thought Curt was gonna pass out when Bose skint that thing to warsh around the head. We finished up washin' and wringin' out our clothes and laid `em out on the rocks to dry a spell `fore we got back into `em and started on down the trail.

After a long day, we stopped for the night and ate and picked us a spot to bed down. I set us up in a cleared spot under some trees just beyond the firelight. Cookie called us for dinner and soon as we got done eatin', we hit the hay. We was ridin' the late shift tonight so we tried to get to sleep early. I was about to drift off when I saw Alvarez step up about 6-8 feet away to piss on a tree. He was angle just right between my eyes and the campfire; I could see him pullin' back the skin and start his flow. Afterwards, I watched as he spent a longer than necessary shakin' the drops off. He finally put it up and went on back to the group. A little later everybody settled into their rolls and we got to sleep.

It felt like it was only a few minutes afore Nat was shaking me awake for the start of our watch. I mumbled that I was awake and commenced to shakin' Curtis. He jumped up quick-like and started rolling up his bedding. Made me wish I was still young and limber. Nat and Bose took our spot soon as we cleared out to the range. I spied Curt takin' his sweet time to get on his horse as he watched Bose take a piss before he got in his sack. Like usual, we split up and rode around the herd and met on t'other side. I could tell the boy had somethin' on his mind.

"Cody" he whispered in the dark, "have you ever saw a pecker the size of that'n on ole Bose?"

"Yeah. There's some of `em out there" I said, "you're really taken with that thing, huh?"

"I just keep thinkin' about how somebody could take a peter that big in `em" Curtis whispered as he fidgeted in the saddle. I could tell he was tryin' to relieve some pressure from his groin area.

"Reckon you'd have to ask Nate `bout that" I said.

"You think they do that stuff?" he asked.

"I don't rightly know, but they keep to theirselves most the time. It'd stand to reason..." I told him.

He sat quiet for a while looking out over the herd, his hand was kneadin' the front of his trousers. After a few minutes he come over closer to me and stopped.

"Cody, I need ya to root me...real bad" he whispered. I nodded and we dismounted. It would have to be a fast and furious fuck, if Pearly caught us not watching the cattle we'd be sent up the trail. Curt pulled his pants down below his ass and I just undid the front of mine enough to pull Little Cody out and spit on him a few times before pluggin' up Curtis's hole. He held tight to his saddle as I worked his ass over. When I started gettin' close I reached around and started jerkin' on him. He must of been right on the edge; it didn't take a minute before he was squirtin' his seed all under his horse. The repeatin' squeezes he was makin' on my shaft put me over the brink and I loaded his ass up. I heard a noise in the herd and fast-like fastened up my pants and hopped back on ole Blackie; Curtis did the same and clambered up on his appaloosa. On the outer edge of the herd out next to the woods I could see something creepin' around, it looked like it might be a coyote. We rode out to run it off, it was gone back to the woods by the time we got there.

"That's why you don't do your rootin' on the job" I said, maybe a little more snappy than need be.

"Yessir, sorry Cody" he said.

"No harm done this time, but I think we got to lay off while we're on watch" I said. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him, but it just sounded to weird inside my head. It was all flowery shit like you say to the saloon women, `cept in this case I really felt it. When our eyes met, I felt like he might know it already. The rest of our turn not much happened. When daylight come, we took our place in Cookie's wagon to get our sleep. As we climbed up, I spied the crusty place on the back of Curt's pants; we'd have to wash them again soon. I looked around as I climbed in behind him and saw Bose close by watchin', I `spect he seen the crusty spot. He adjusted hisself as he mounted up and shot me a grin as I closed the flaps on the wagon.

 

 

Pearly decided we needed a couple more hands so when we crossed into the New Mexico territory, we picked us up a pair of Mexicans. The older of `em, well, he was probly 30 or so, was called Nestor, and Nestor had a companionship with a younger feller, much like me and Curtis. The younger feller was 16 and tried to get everbody to call him Scirocco, but it never stuck; Nestor allowed as his real name was Martin (but he said it like Mar-TEEN). Nestor picked up on mine and Curt's situation right quick and let me know in private that him and Martin were kinderd spirits. I verified that fact by accident the second night out from Santa Fe when I stumbled up on them two behind some boulders. Nestor was layin' flat of his back and Martin was makin' a poppin' noise on Nestor's thighs on ever down stroke. Seems they was kinderd spirits allright, though Nestor liked the opposite side of the equation from me. No, I didn't stand and watch `em. As soon as I figured out what was what, I scrambled on out of there, but that night Curt got a hard reamin' `fore sleepin' time, I tell ya what.

We was herdin' them beasts to Cheyenne, where the railroad was to take them on out to San Francisco. We'd been ridin' another four or five days when we stopped close to Fort Summer for a night. Me `n Curtis slipped off to the river to rinch off some `a the dirt. Little did we know, Nestor and that Martin had trailed us to the water. I's already butt-nekkid in the river and Curt on his way, when they strolled up. Nary a word was said as Nestor and Martin shucked their clothin' right there by ours and come into the water with us just the way the Lord had made `em. Well, `ceptin' for the pokers stickin' out in front of `em. Seems Nestor wanted to play with me, and his friend was shootin' for Curt. Nobody was around but us, so we was game. Ole Nestor helped me slake the dirt off and I returned the favor. Then he braced hisself with his hands on his knees and pointed that firm brown ass in my direction and winked his third eye at me. Well, sir, all I had was my spit, but I slicked him up and commenced to pumpin'. He was squeakin' and gruntin' for a minute or two, then he settled into purring almost like a house cat. For an old feller he was still fair tight back there, and I reckon the novelty of it all got to me. I gushed a load of my best cum all up in his ass. When I looked down I saw his white stuff washin' down the river so I knowed he blowed his payload too.

The boys had warshed each other `n moved back on shore to a big flat rock. Martin was laying on his back and Curt was ridin' his pole like he rode that appaloosa of his'n. We watched the festivities until Martin held Curt still and we could see that ole tube on his cock throbbin' like crazy fillin' my boy up. Curt dismounted and took back to the water to wash out the cum, and when Marteen stood up he looked for the world like some whitewashed fence. He ran to the river and dove in. We was getting back in our clothes when a few of the others started filterin' down to the river. After a little small talk, the four of us headed on back to the camp to get some shuteye. This was lookin' to be a good run, least till we got to Cheyenne.

Several of the hands didn't come in till way up in the night. When they was near a town, some of liked the pussy hole. They'd go waste their coin on some ole wore out whore. I never seen the use in it, my boy's hole was way better than any saloon whore I'd ever tried. Nat and Bose was set up close by us. When they settled down on their sacks, they smelled a little like rotten fish. I pondered the fact that even a mostly wore out whore could probly still get somethin' out'n of Bose's big ole horse cock. I was still smilin' when I drifted off again. Yessir, this had been a good day.

 

Lambodara 10/9/21

lambodara@protonmail.com

This story is just a fleeting thought I had, don't know how far I'll go with it. Let me know what you think.