Date: Wed, 6 Sep 2017 13:33:52 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Ashes and Dust 5

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

*****

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

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

*****

Ashes and Dust 5: Kincaid Can

by Bear Pup

Note of apology: I've written this story to capture spoken English for the
time and place, as if Jesse was telling the story aloud. I know that is
unfair to readers who learned English as an additional language. I am sorry
for that.

NEWS: Thank to Ronnie, I now know you can set up Amazon Smile so that your
purchases on Amazon earn contributions to charities LIKE NIFTY! It's a
great, zero-cost way to enhance the support you already give them (I hope).

*****

I was smart, finally. I parked my chamois between the mattress and the wall
to make sure it was handy for, um, nighttime needs. I was glad I did. Babe
was even more vocal that night, and I could hear Pete taking matters into
his own hand, whisper-cussing up a storm. I reached and flopped out my big
ole log and started pumpin'.

I conjured up my fave-o-rite, a dancing girl from the troop that came
through Sabine Parish's one and only carousing spot. I was sorta dragged
there by one of the other hands at the yard, a deep-bayou Cajun named
Pierre, and was plumb floored. There wasn't just whiskey, rye and bourbon,
but all sorts of other booze, a man playing a piano and women wearing less
than was decent (in a couple cases, way less) wanderin' round serving out
drinks and taking in money.

I had one ginger-n-rye and nursed it as I wasn't going to pay those prices
for watered-down liquor. Then the lamps were turned down and a half-dozen
girls dressed as... oh hell, I can't even guess! All frilly and puffy and
lots of it, but somehow none of it managed to cover anything! You could see
the, um, space tween their, uh, parts at one end, and all the way up their
legs to their b-b-b-b-b-bloomers started on 'tother! And I ain't never seen
bloomers like that afore! Anyway, they done danced real nice a couple of
numbers, then moved out into the crowd, you know, sippin' from drinks and
sittin' on laps and whispering in ears.

One took a right shine to me, all sparkly eyes, and when she sat on my lap,
she, uh, uh, uh... wiggled about so. She took a swig from my ginger-n-rye
and made a right witty comment about the quality of the booze. She purred
at me like a kitten and a bit later, all conversation-like, she asked, "So,
Jesse, how much money do you have on your cute little body tonight?"
Surprised, I blurted out the real amount and she made a sad face that
nearly made me weep. She said, "Oh, I'm so sorry about that, baby. I'm only
going to have a rich husband for tonight. My, I sure wish I didn't
need'ta."

She kissed me then and I was too shocked to kiss her back, then she was off
like a cat and onto another lap a few yards away. I smelled of her for days
and days. I turned and my friend right laughed at my expression. I was
puzzling over the "husband for tonight" part, as you don't tend to change
'em often. We were on the way back, me all flushed and talking about her
when Pierre said she was a whore and laughed at me for not knowing. I
socked him in the eye and he backed up and said he wasn't insulting her, he
was explaining.

He went on to tell me, in detail I damned sure didn't want to know, how the
carousing spot worked. I just kept blushing brighter and brighter as he
made me see just what an ignorant bumpkin I really was. I 'pologized about
the eye, but he didn't hold it against me. He just made me promise not to
slug him when he made fun of what happened to the hands at the yard, which
he proceeded to do for a gull-darned week. I split that memory in two,
ever-thing up to the kiss, then ever-thing after. I never thought about the
after, but the before kept me warm on many a cold night.

But my monster cock just wasn't having none of it. I tried Melisande (the
woman-of-all-work for the house next to the yard who took a fancy to me
once) and Susanne (she worked at the mercantile and flirted with all the
boys) but... nuthin'. Suddenly, something in the back of my head said,
'Please. Let me be the first. I'll be the best.' My pecker done popped
right up as Kincaid's soft voice and wide, brown eyes flickered to mind.

I still didn't know what he really meant or how it could work, but the
power in his voice and the need in his eyes set my eggs a churning. 'I
swear. I'll beg. I will.' I moaned aloud at that... lost in the sound of
his voice... 'I'll scream and beg, Jesse.' That played over and over and
over in my mind, 'I'll scream and beg, Jesse.'

Then it was, 'Oh, God, Jesse. Oh, God. Please, please, please!' I was
nearly there when all of a sudden, the memory of, 'Just, just, just
unh-unh-unh-unh,' came up and, well, so did I. The thought of big ole
Kincaid fillin' up that loincloth with his seed just at the thought,
of... well, of whatever the hell he was thinking sent me into a blasting
orgasm, bucking my hips up as I grunted with each blast.

And that was when I recollected that I was *not* on my bedroll in a
makeshift camp with only Gypsy to listen. I swear to God it was Max that
started the damned clapping, which all the other guys joined in. Danny's
voice came just as that applause died down. "Damn, son. You planning on
doing that every night? Then you need a bottom bunk. You pert near fell
through that one into my lap!" Ever-body just laughed, 'cept me a'course.

I got a lot of ribbing but also a lot of respect and manly closeness the
next morning. Kincaid didn't look at me at all and seemed quite out of
sorts. I got to the kitchen early and talked up Cookie, something I decided
would become a habit. I cut the honey-biscuit in half so Pete could
share. The talk of the day was weather; well, the talk of every day was
weather, but today was a lot more as the air... I don't know how to say
it. The air "smelled like thunder" even though the skies were clear. I saw
Randy in a discussion with Kincaid, then with Max, but didn't really give
it any more thought.

Randy stood to give out the days order of work. "Zeke, Danny, Gabby and
Babe, you should probably finish up on the fence today. Zeke and Danny,
help set posts, please, after you dig the last hole. We'll string the wire
tomorrow, probably as a team. Kincaid, I need you to clear the north
gully. Take heavy gloves for the brambles. When we open the new pasture, I
don't want calves getting all tangled up in there. And be damned careful of
snakes. Take Jesse with you; Max says he can use more shotgun practice."
This did not appear to please Kincaid much and he shot just one disgruntled
glare at me afore looking away.

"Max, I need you to run into town. I've got a list of goods I need Emily to
order in for us. Pete, Gary and me will be doing house chores. Okay, men,
thank-ee and have a good day. Kincaid, you mind what I said bout the
snakes. And Jesse, shoot first. I'd rather have you blasting holes in
shadows than you or Gypsy gettin bit. You hear me?"

I nodded and he dismissed us all. Cookie had packed a nice box for our
lunch and sent a huge skin of what he called weak-beer, about the color of
piss but mighty welcome when you needed to drink without ill effects. We
each had canteens filled with the same. It was going to be hot, dusty
work. I followed Kincaid's lead to the gully in question. It was something
we didn't have in Louisiana where's there's always water whether you want
it or not. From the rim, you could see where the water would run after a
storm, but the area was bone dry and all but the stony bottom was thick
with brambles and dust.

We tied Ranger and Gypsy in the shade of a tree. I took the cover off a
bucket of water I carried and set it nearby. Kincaid had gotten us both
pairs of elbow-long gloves of thick, tough leather. We carried those,
billhooks and our guns. Randy was right about the snakes. I shot two fore
we even got to the brambles, and killed a shadow to boot. Damned if those
bramble-shadows didn't look more like a snake that the real rattlers!
Kincaid said gruffly not to worry bout wasting shells; The Star bought them
from a neighbor ranch by the case. He seemed surly all morning as we busted
on the brambles and the snakes. I rarely got more'n a grunt out of him.

We broke for lunch when the sun was about eleven o'clock and took to the
meager shade of the tree around the other side from where the horses were
nickering to each other. We both took long, long pulls from the large skin
of beer and refilled our canteens which were as dry as the dust around
us. We tucked into the lunch and were bout halfway through it when Kincaid
spoke, his voice gruff.

"Why did you promise me and then put on the show pleasuring yourself last
night? You mad at me or you just mean like that?"

I near choked. I swallowed my mouthful and took a long pull of the
beer. Kincaid kept looking at me then staring off. I used the pause to
figure out what I needed to say.

"K-Kincaid, I'm new to this. You know that, right?" He nodded, scowling at
his boot. "I don't know how to ask and don't even rightly know what I'd'a
been askin' for." He just grunted. I decided to just be honest and let the
cards fall. I blushed about six shades of sunset and said, "You know what I
was thinking when I made all that noise last night?" He looked at me, his
pudgy face pouting, jaw set and posture completely disgruntled. I reached
over and touched his knee. "You fillin' up your loincloth with one hand on
my knee just like mine's on yours. You so excited by m-m-m-m-me that it,
well, I don't know, Kincaid, it just put me in heat. Nobody ever looked at
me like that."

His face had gone wide-eyed and hopeful, but still pouty. "Then why didn't
you say something? I said I'd beg, even, and you just go a-grunt and
a-bucking. Now, that ain't right, Jesse. Ain't right a'tall"

Now, I wasn't gonna put up with that. It was right unreasonable. "Say
sumpin'? Like what, Kincaid? 'Hey, Kincaid, I'm too ignorant to even know
what to ask for, but come over here and do sumpin' bout my pecker?' That
sound like a plan with all the hands listenin'?"

He let out a very reluctant chuckle. "No, but there ain't been no hands
round all morning and you ain't said shit."

He was flicking his gaze from one of my eyes to the other. I locked his
stare and said, my voice husky and my pecker knocking at the door of my
jeans, "'H-H-H-H-Hey, Kincaid, I'm t-t-t-too ignorant to even know what to
ask but c-c-c-c-c-c-come over here and do sumpin' bout my
p-p-p-p-p-pecker?" Okay, yeah, I sounded like a stutterer reading lessons
and none too sure of the text, but it seemed that Kincaid didn't really
mind. He groaned like a soul tormented and was clawing at my buckle in a
heartbeat.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Gypsy and Ranger peek round the trunk of
the tree and then pull back, snickering to each other. I couldn't'a blushed
no redder, and near instantly forgot them smart-assed horses. Kincaid had
me skinned and my balls and pecker hanging out and he whimpered, then
moaned loud as he dove in, pushing me back against the trunk with his
force. "OH! Oh, sweet Jesus!" I heard myself yell.

I can't even begin to tell you how ignorant I was. I didn't really know
what was going to happen. Some sort of jacking off, I guessed. Kincaid,
though, had buried his whole durned face in my crotch and started licking
and snuffling and nuzzling about. I'd never felt -- never IMAGINED --
anything so good. I started moaning and, thanks to Max's tutelage the day
before, cussing a blue streak.

I reached down to my aching cock to get some relief cuz he had plumb lit me
on fire and he knocked my hand away. "Nuh-uh, bronco. This is my rodeo." He
began to wash my sweaty nuts with his tongue and slurp his slobber out of
my short hairs, loud and lewd. I thought I'd done died. Someways, my hand
snuck back down there and this time, Kincaid's hand and voice were firm.

"No you don't!" I'd wiggled about enough that my jeans and drawers were all
the way off my ass and round my thighs, butt sittin' on nuthin' but
dust. Without taking his mouth off my churning balls, I felt him fasten my
belt back, trapping my thighs, then dang if the misbegotten varmint didn't
grab and tuck my hand tween the belt and the jeans and do the same thing on
'tother side! I couldn't move a bit!

The problem was, that's when the rodeo STARTED. He pulled back, smiling as
I struggled and I suddenly froze. His mouth got closer and closer to my
dogwater-slick peckerhead and my jaw dropped. There weren't no way he
would... he wouldn't! Nobody would... "OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" He did. His
lips wrapped around the head and his tongue started a'licking and a'poking,
even in the slit itself. Then he went all under the foreskin to those
places even I barely could get warm and wet when I was yanking myself. And
that tongue was magic, pure sorcery and no mistake.

I was whimpering and grunting and groaning and moaning, way past words. I
saw the pearly gates crack open and was right there on the edge of the
Promised Land in maybe two minutes. I was writhing all round and just about
ready to blow when he pulled off again and I whined like a kicked puppy.

"Now, now, cowboy. Cain't have you going off half..." he leered over the
next word, "cocked." He went back in and went after my balls again, this
time with real long strokes of his tongue and lots of attention to the
bottom and sides of the purse that held em. He waited 'til I was breathing
normal again and pulled up, smiling so wide I got right worried. That was
the most coyoteish smile I ever did see.

I readied myself for paradise. If'n he'd only lick and swizzle that tongue
about for just a little longer this time... Was it asking too much? Just
teensy bit more? I got right vocal in my encouragement as he moved slowly
in, even though I can't remember any of the words. His pouty lips slipped
over the head and I sighed so deep the dust round us moved in the wind I
made. He started to work his way down and I tensed up and looked down this
time. But the tongue-of-Heaven wasn't going inside my pecker-sheath and I
moaned like a kid as had his candy stole.

Then my eyes popped open. He didn't stop at the head. His mouth kept
inching down, and now the tongue was all over my ramrod. And STILL he kept
going. Round bout the halfway point, he choked a little. I ain't never felt
nuthi'n like that! I could feel my low-hangers not hanging at all, getting
right cozy up there, ready to shoot. And damned if that evil cowboy didn't
pull off again. I don't know what-all I called him as he just smiled all
bright and sunny.

I threatened to do everything to him 'cept for killin' him and said that
was cuz killin' was too good for him. Whatever he'd done with my hands was
plumb bout to kill me not being able to get 'em out and take care of
personal bidness without him. I went silent in an instant, though, when he
started licking that right-wondrous spot covered by the hair where the base
of my pecker met my belly.

Oh, sweet Lord. His bristly chin and cheeks make me yip and squeak as they
caressed my blazing-hot and leaking horn, but never *quite* enough to give
me relief. He licked his way up my belly a ways and I giggled. "That
tickles! Stop that now!" He just chucked into the softest part of me and
kept right on. I found out a moment later that I've got a truly sensitive
belly-button. He had me giggling and whimpering and yipping to beat the
band. He stopped when I got my breath back again.

This time, he wasted no time a'tall on preliminaries and I watched in
fascinated, horrified ecstasy as inch after inch just disappeared. He
choked again, just the once, at the midway point then -- swear to the
Almighty -- kept going. Suddenly, when he was all the way down and I had
nothing left to give him he started s-s-s-s-s-s-s-swallowing! Over and Over
and Over. It took me maybe thirty seconds and I started hunching up,
finally able to cummmmmmm! DAMNATION! The bastard pulled out slow, but not
slow enough for me to get that last little tickle and the release I so
desperately craved. It was like a dust-dry thirst and he kept pulling the
water away.

He went back to my balls and I gave up the cursing and started on
begging. I think someplace in there I offered him half of Texas if he'd
just let me cum. I begged and pleaded like a man standing in front of the
noose that was gonna hang him. He pulled off'a me and looked straight into
my eyes. Those doe-brown windows into his soul sparkled with mischief as
well as need.

"So, you ain't gonna be jacking this thing off any more, right?"

"No! Never, Kincaid!" I would'a promised him my first born by that point!

"And if you feel the need, you gonna call old Kincaid to take care'a those
needs, right?"

"Yes! Oh, by God, YES!"

"And that's a real promise this time, right? Not one you just forget when
the lights go out, right?"

"PLEASE. I swear. I swear! Anything, Kincaid, ANYTHING!" My innards cringed
at the sound of desperation and need in my own voice.

"Good then." He plunged back down, choking several times as he went so
fast, but soon my pecker was buried deep in his throat and he was
a'swallowin' and then, then, oh sweet baby Jesus, then he started to
growl. The vibration did something right wondrous and I felt it not only in
my cock, but in my balls and belly and chest as well.

I threw my head back and screamed like I was being gutted, adding a new
howl for every gush of my cum he took. After the second, he pulled back and
I thought I'd die of pleasure as I felt myself sliding around in there and
POP out of his throat. He then added his tongue work, lashing about like a
man possessed as I continued to holler and grunt and sob and gasp until I
had nothing left. When I started yelping, he finally relented and let my
pecker flop out.

I slid off the tree to one side and mumbled nonsense and moaned heartily as
the aftershocks wracked my frame. When I finally came to awareness, I was
tidied up and buckled in. I turned to see Kincaid, one hand braced on the
tree, flogging away like he was trying to put out a fire -- well, he kinda
was. I came behind him and knocked his hand away.

He yelped, not having heard me get up. I wrapped my arms around him, one
going to his cock and one to his big ole balls. His prong was about
two-thirds the length of mine, but so thick I could barely reach round
it. I leaned into his ear and purred, "Don't you dare, cowboy." I started
caressing oh-so-slowly with long full strokes and twiddled his balls. He
moaned, his voice several steps higher that it had been.

I kept the rumbling purr in my voice as I let my hot breath bathe his
ear. "You just opened a whole new world for me, Kincaid." I made love to
his name with my voice, drawing it out and caressing the sounds. "No one
never did nuthin' like that in my life. And I don't mean the dick part. I
mean the passion, the longing, the care. You, Kincaid, you are far too
special to let you go taking care of your own needs." I lowered my voice as
far as I could, making my purr a growl. "Now show me you like it,
Kincaid. Show me that it feels good."

It was like I was suddenly holding a swamp gator. Ever part of that man
thrashed and he lowed like a cow on the first blast and then sounded like a
crane for the rest. AYuh! AYuh! AYuh! AYuh! as his seed shot so hard
against that tree trunk that it actually splashed. I held him as he seemed
to cum for days, easily nine, ten good eruptions and a long set of
dribbling aftershocks. Thinking what my own dick had felt like, I didn't
really stop; I just kept jacking the shaft alone, never nearing the head.

He kept shaking though, and I suddenly realized he'd finished his release
long before. Kincaid was crying. I turned him to me, looked in those huge,
pouring eyes and sucked his sobs into my own mouth as I kissed him with a
passion... a passion I don't have words to describe. Unlike Max, though,
Kincaid melted into me, softness and curves, refusing to take and refusing
*not* to be taken. I kissed him against that tree until Gypsy stuck her big
ole snotty face in there and snorted horse-slobber over us both, then
jumped back. Both she and Ranger was bobbing their heads and snickering at
the two of us. "Damned fool horse!" She knew, though, that I was more
amused than angry. Kincaid looked at me with those huge brown eyes and
just... smiled.

<eof>

If you've been reading my stories, you have noticed that there are fewer
fuck-ups in the text. That is ENTIRELY due to some readers who volunteered
to help out. Stars for this chapter were Dan, Ronald, Skip and the
aforementioned Ronnie. I'm also incredibly grateful that one of my
favourite Nifty authors, Jeff Moses, took time to give me some great edits
that make this chapter smoother.

*****

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 34 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
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Raven's Claw: 10 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/
Ashes & Dust: 5 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/
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