Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2017 13:32:39 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Ashes and Dust 7

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
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*****

"I'm sorry, Jesse! I didn't mean it like that, honest!" I looked up and his
face matched his tone; he was truly upset that he'd poked that scab over my
shameful ignorance when it came to manly things. "It's just.... well,
Jesse, it's right special. I never got to tell somebody suchlike, and I
don't recall as anyone every taught me. I was never brave 'nuff to ask! And
I mean that, Jesse. Seem to me it takes a real man to ask something that
personal, out loud to another man 'n' all." I relaxed and looked at him
hopefully. He was right as always; it had taken a lot for me to ask the
question a'tall. He got a slow and sly smile. "Tell ya what, cowboy. 'Tis a
lot more fun a'showin' than a'tellin'..."

*****

Ashes and Dust 7: New Hand

by Bear Pup

*****

I just stared at him, then my jaw dropped. "Y-Y-Ya mean, like, now? Sh-Show
me, um, by doin' whatever it were ya was doin' to Kincaid to m-m-m-m-me?"

Peter reached out and I near jumped a foot as his hand slicked along my
pecker. "One part of ya don't appear that worried, there, cowboy." He was
right. I was harder than a plug nickel and drippin' to boot. "Now, I know
you're right shy 'bout some things, so's you just wait here and I'll be
back afore you can holler."

He spun on his heel and was off like a hare. I'd started to fidget and
decide it 'twere a bad idea all round when he came back with a small, round
tin with a bright-pink label, "JJ Baxter's Macassar Pomade".

"Um, Peter, you planning on doing my hair? Ain't that long, now, is it?" I
self-consciously ran my hands through my slightly-shaggy locks. I mean,
they was a bit long, but didn't even touch my ears yet! And anyway, I could
tuck 'em under my hat for another month at least.

"Jesse, you never do cease to amaze me. Now don't go getting het up, but
you didn't really think something could go 'tother way up your bee-hind
without something to grease the way?" I spluttered a little. "They's more
ways a'doin' it than there's cowboys to try, but I'm right partial to
Macassar." He had a hand on one a'my shoulders and spun me round to the
rail-fence a few yards from the chickens and, right-forceful, leant me up
agin it.

"Um, uh, Peter. I ain't sure a'tall bout this. I think that OH MY!"

A finger done worked its way back to my nethers, followed by the rest of
his hand and I was damned shocked (I'd admonish myself for the cussin'
later) at how good that felt right until, "SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!" one of
them fingers found my most-unmentionable place and proceeded to diddle
about. Not to put too fine a point on it, that pomaded finger got right
personal with my very own shit-chute. I came up on my toes and damned if I
didn't make some a'those self-same sounds I wrenched outta Kinkaid not four
hours earlier.

And 'tweren't nuthin' compared to when he got another finger up there (I do
admit to one small yelp -- ain't nuthin' gone in that dye-rection up that
there orifice in my whole life) and the longer digit touched... well, it
touched the Pearly Gates. I'd been up on my toes and damned if I didn't
proceed to levitate! I was making sounds that caused bats to fly into
one'nother and dogs did commence to howl.

I vaguely heard, "Well hell and damnation!" and Peter's chuckle before
flurry of movement concluded with something warm, wet and FANTASTIC
happenin' to my own pecker. I woulda looked down, but being as I was at
least six or seven miles up, the clouds plumb got in the way.

Peter added another finger and I wanted to holler but was too busy moaning
and he then did proceed to right pummel whatever he'd done found in
there. I heard this strange, raw, animal keening that couldn't rightly
place. Too high for a coyote and too long for an eagle's cry. I found out
later it was me.

There and abouts that time, one deep jab by Peter matched one deep plunge
of warm wetness on my pecker and I died and made a door-knock call on St
Peter himself as my balls tried to crawl up inside'a me and empty
themselves at the same time. That old man just chuckled and said, "Be good,
son! Don't forget that you get that same feelin' ever' minute of 'ternity!"
I swore and averred in that moment to lead a holy and Christian life. Ain't
nuthin' ever felt like that!

I came back to the mortal coil, the vale of tears, crying as was right
appropriate, carried in Kincaid's strong arms. We breached the bunkhouse
door to a murmur and then a cry of worry. "T'ain't nuthin'. He just, uh,
slipped is all."

Five cowboys proceeded to snicker. "So Kincaid," Zeke's voice rang out,
"Did he slip on a patch'a *cream* perhaps?"

Kincaid, though, was apparently not interested in letting Zeke get away
with shit. "Now, don't get yore *titties* in a bind, there Zeke." That
cowboy's eyes narrowed and nostrils flared as Kincaid continued, "This
h'yar cowboy was pert near more'n Peter and I could handle together." He
continued in a mutter meant only for my ears, "Chew on that tonight, you
spur-clickin' bastard." I chuckled and Kincaid smiled down. "Back from the
dead, then, cowboy?"

I was so comfortable and safe (and frankly sex-drunk) that I had no shield
up a'tall. I stared deep into those beautiful brown eyes. "I dunno,
Kincaid. I keep seeing an angel." Those eyes suddenly shot wide. "Peter did
something right special to my body, Kincaid, but ain't nobody done nuthin'
like what you done did to my soul."

Kincaid puffed like a rooster as he hoisted me, with a little help from
Peter as I'm not exactly a fawn, into my bunk. I just laid there as the man
whose lips had sent me to St Peter strutted over and stripped down, tying
his loincloth with a distracted smile.

Zeke, Max and Gabby were gathered at the table and Zeke huffed, "We playin'
poker or not?" Danny moved over and took a seat as well.

I think everyone jumped a bit when I spoke, probably shocked that I could!
"Deal me in, gentlemen." I swung my legs over and swayed a bit but hopped
down, shucked my boots for my moccasins and sat. If they could go nekkid,
by God, so could I.

"Um, Kincaid?" Max's voice was soft and rough. "You joinin'?"

Kincaid looked around the table and, I was surprised to see, smiled. "No,
Max, I think I'll just... wait a while."

We threw our penny-antes in and Zeke dealt out the five hands. I drew a
pair of sixes, a good start. Max, Gabby and I passed. Danny started the
betting at three cents. Zeke raised another two and reached down to scratch
his low-hanging balls. I wondered if I was the only one who'd noticed his
tell. That was quickly answered when Gabby raised a nickel and Max added
three more cents. Thirteen cents on the first hand was pretty strong, but I
stayed in.

I drew a second pair, nines, which gave me good odds, and I got lucky that
no one seemed inclined to push the pot much. I don't like to have too much
coin on the table. Gabby added three pennies and we all called. Danny,
first bet, had a pair of aces. Zeke had a busted flush, Gabby had two pair,
eights over sevens. Max had kings, so my nines over sixes won the pot. I
blushed hard. An eighty-five-cent haul on the first hand? No bad a'tall!

The next hour or so went slower, most of the pots in the thirty-cent
range. I threw a couple of hands as it got later to make sure that I didn't
win heavy. Zeke lost over a dollar overall which didn't sit well with him
in the least. I was up an extra two bits and Gabby close to a dollar with
Max down a bit and Danny up. I looked up and saw Kincaid still looking at
me with a wistful smile. I smiled at him and he straightened, looking to
where my crotch would be if'n he could see through the table. I winked to
let him know I got the joke and he moved to join the game.

"You gonna play a hand or two, Kincaid?" Max asked. "You'll have a wait a
spell as I just dealt." I was a bit puzzled by the older cowboy's twinkling
eyes and half-leer. I picked up my cards. Six, seven, eight and nine of
various suits. Not bad a'tall.

Kincaid's low voice purred as he walked past Max. My pudgy cowboy was
looking at me with clear hunger that plumb worried me no end. "Well, I was
gonna play, but a hand won't come into it." Max looked at me and laughed at
my expression. Kincaid's face was a bobcat on the prowl. "Ya see, a certain
cowboy thought that I was a'kiddin' when I said all he had to do was
wink. And he claimed aint' nobody gonna do any such thing in a bunkhouse
full'a cowboys." My mouth was working like a caught bass and I realized the
whole crew was chuckling.

I watched in flat-out shock as Kincaid crawled right under the durn card
table and licked my big old pecker. "Kincaid!" I hissed urgently. "Stop
that right now! A joke's a joke, but OH HOLY HELL!" He'd started to suck on
my horn, going deeper and deeper and deeper.

"That's a nickel to you, Jesse."

"N-N-N-Nickle?"

"Poker, Jesse? Ya know, them thar cards in yore hand?"

"Um, uh, um, call?" I pushed five pennies in just as Kincaid's tongue
slipped 'neath my foreskin and made me squeak like a bad spring, then he
got a right yip outta me as I felt a finger inveigle its way up the trail
Peter had blazed not two hours earlier. Oh, Lord God A'mighty, what was
this man doing to me? I looked around quick and saw with right horror that
everyone in the bunkhouse was smirking cept Max and Zeke who were studying
their cards in silence.

"Jesse? You still with us? How many cards, son?"

"Wa, wa, wa-wa-wa-wa-wa ONE!" I yelped as the tongue pulled back and
Kincaid started working his lips further and further down my cock.

I took the card absently and didn't even look, leaving it face down. I was
fully in Kincaid's throat by then and he started bobbing. I couldn't help
but moan and whimper. Ever so off'n Max'd nudge me and say a number and I'd
push that many pennies out. Kincaid's finger had found that special nubbin
deep up in my bee-hind and 'tween that and his talented lips and throat and
t-t-t-t-t-t-tongue! Ahem, and tongue, he was driving me wild. I couldn't
take it no more and huffed and chuffed, trying not to scream and holler, as
Kincaid took my load yet again deep in his gullet.

He came up licking his lips and getting some half-hearted applause. I
thought I'd plumb die right there at the poker table. Just as I caught my
breath, Max said, "Well, son. Moment of truth!" I looked at him for a
second and he glanced significantly at my cards. My jaw dropped when,
amazed and appalled, I saw the pile of coins in the middle. Danny and Gabby
had folded early, apparently, then Max and Zeke had taken me for a true
ride as Kincaid did the same in a different way a couple feet lower
down. I'd started with two dollars in front of me and I was horrified to
see maybe a dollar or so left. AND I'd been up two bits! I was gonna kill
Kincaid.

Max showed his cards and had two pair, kings and tens. Zeke whooped and
laid three queens down. "Damn, so! I finally won some back!"

"Not so quick there, Zeke. We ain't seen what Jesse's holdin'."

"Oh, hell, Max. He ain't even looked at his cards!"

"Nonetheless, he only drew one. He might be holdin' four a'somthin'." Zeke
huffed and I dropped the cards I was holding, causing the cowboy opposite
me to exult and start pulling money toward him.

"Eh-eh-eh. There's that card he ain't looked at yet." I shook myself and
turned over the weathered piece of cardboard. It was a five. I'd made my
straight and never knew it.

Zeke -- well, Zeke was throwing a right fit. "You kiddin' me, Max?!? I got
beat holding three queens by a young peckerhead that never looked at what
he was a'holdin'! This is horse shit. You check that boy for cards hid
someplace." Max's eyebrows went as high as I'd ever seen em. Danny was
scowling and Gabby's eyes were squinted so far I wasn't sure he could see.

"Hid where, Zeke? He's nekkid. And he ain't been able to move of his own
voe-lishun for pert near the whole hand, and he never touched that
card. You gonna claim that I did the cheatin'? Dealt low or somthin'?" His
voice dripped with menace, but Zeke was too far gone to notice.

"Well, did'ja?"

At that moment, the door between the bunkhouse and main one, a door I'd
never even seen open a'fore, swung inwards. Peter was there, peeking from
behind a seriously het-up Randy. The cowboy was in a faded pair of
red-plain boxer shorts, and a damned sight more intimidating than any
pert-near nekkid man I ever did see. I cowered back, terrified at what
might transpire. I'd just gotten blowed in the damned bunkhouse! I was
finished for sure.

"No, Zeke, he didn't." Randy's voice was a rumbling growl and even in his
rage, Zeke paled. "You lost a fair game even though you were trying to milk
that boy of everything you could while he was... distracted. Grab your kit,
cowboy. You're staying in the guest room tonight. We'll settle your pay in
the morning, then you can head on."

"What? You cain't just up and fire a man for bitchin' 'bout cards!"

"Actually, I'm not. I'm firing you *now* cuz'a'this: You cain't ride
without spurring that poor horse to an early grave, you let others carry
the weight and you're a right sore loser and a bully to boot. I was gonna
let you have until we were sure Jesse here was a fit. I decided not to wait
one more minute. SHUT UP! One word and you leave, now, tonight, and I don't
give a shit if the coyotes eat your worthless nuts right off. ONE WORD,
Zeke! Just one, and I'll kick your nekkid ass out that door."

Zeke mouth worked furiously but he just grabbed the bulk of his kit from
his locker and stomped into the main house.  A flick of Randy's head had
Peter gathering the rest and stuffing it in a rucksack, making sure to
strip everything Zeke had brought. The boy was quick and ran with the sack
in the direction Zeke had taken. Randy coughed once and Gary was suddenly
standing behind him. Both came in and the hands fell dead silent. I was
shaking like a leaf and sure my face was paper-white.

Randy gave a significant head-bob and the other three at the table
scrammed. Gary and Randy sat across from me. Gary's high, clear voice said,
"We normally wait for a week or so to give a new hand a chance to prove
himself. With you, well, a week wasn't really needed." I could feel the
tears prickle the corners of my eyes. I hadn't even lasted a third night!
I'd learned a lot, though. I felt my lower lip begin to tremble like a
little boy and clamped my teeth on it hard to stop.

Randy spoke up, his low voice at such odds with Gary's. "I've talked to
each of the hands that have worked with you, and I trust them. I also trust
what I've seen with my own eyes. You are a damned fine cowboy and a harder
worker than we've seen in a while. You're not just pulling your weight,
you're pulling a lot more and it's appreciated. You're a strong and welcome
addition to The Star."

I'll admit I just gawped at him, trying like a fool to make what he said
line up with "you're done here."

Gary said, "If you stay, you'll get a half-dollar a day and two bits on
Sunday since we only work a few hours." I did the math quick. Holy Horse
Shit! That was over three dollar a WEEK! "We buy your clothes, food for you
and Gypsy, bedding and necessaries for both of ya. You pay for any leathers
-- boots, saddle, tack -- but you keep it when you leave and we get a great
price from Tom Taylor over the far side'a Bastrop." They both just looked
at me.

"Well, son? You staying?"

"HELL YEAH! Oh, my! Sorry. Um, uh, I meant yessir! Oops. I m-m-m-mean, yes,
Randy and G-G-Gary, s-, um, boss? Bosses?"

They laughed and clapped me on the back and turned. "Gentlemen... and the
other six'a'ya." A chuckle ran 'round the room. "Meet Jesse Natchez, newest
hand on The Star!" A cheer went up and I near died between the sudden
relief, the pride and the lingering effects of both the orgasm and Zeke's
comeuppance.

<eof>

Special thanks for proofreading Jack, Thomas, Lee and Pawl. All of them
consistently make what you read in my stories better in many more ways that
just fixing my screw-ups.

*****

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
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The Heathens: 29 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Culberhouse Rules: 13 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 11 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/
Ashes & Dust: 7 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/
Maybe Next Time: 6 chapters .../authoritarian/maybe-next-time/
Irma's Boys: 1 chapter .../adult-friends/irmas-boys/