Breaking the Texan

Friday afternoon, Clay stepped into the casino if only to get away from the heat but really he had come there to gamble.  A silver belt buckle, tight blue jeans, a tucked in button down shirt, 10 gallon hat, and boots, Clay was the icon of a cowboy as he sat down at the poker table. 

He looked around at the other players, most of them were there to lose and drink complimentary drinks except for one, a short man with dark skin, black hair, and dark eyes.  Clay guessed he was from the Middle East, maybe Pakistan or India, probably Saudi Arabia.  The man noticed him in return, their eyes caught in an uncomfortable recognition of two men on a mission, to win.

They played a few hands, both of them won in turns, piled up their chips.  Others came and went but they were at it for hours.  Clay nursed two drinks but the man always waved away the cocktail girl.  Probably doesn’t drink, he thought, keeps him sharp.  When seats emptied between them the man moved closer but didn’t say anything until there was a change of dealers.  They talked over their shoulders in not quite whispers.

“You play big,” the man said, “I like your style.”

He had a bit of an accent but Clay couldn’t place it, not that he had anything against foreigners, not really, it was more of a curiousness, a desire to know.  He liked the way the man played as well, a kind of confidence that made him difficult to read.

“Thanks,” Clay replied.

“I’m going to dinner soon but maybe you’d like to meet up later.  I’m hosting a private game up in my room.  There are some big whales who can’t play, they just don’t like to lose big so their conservative players but I think they’d like you.  Would you be interested?”

“How much do I have to have to get into the game?”

“Two thousand should do it,” the man answered.

The dealer eyed them suspiciously.  The stranger waved away his interest and said that he was leaving.  The dealer looked to Clay who began to count his chips.  It would be a bit of a hustle but he could come up with two thousand.  Why not?

“Okay, I’m in for tonight.”

“My name is Raj, let me give you my phone number.  We start after eight o’clock, make sure you get something to eat.  There will be drinks if you’re interested.”

“I like to keep an even head so I don’t indulge, too much.”

“Good, a worthy opponent,” the man replied.

He pulled a matchbook from his jacket and wrote down his number with his name, then handed it over.  Clay took it and thanked him as he watched the man walk away.

Fleece some whales of their cash, he thought, easy money.  He turned back to the dealer and indicated he was ready to continue playing.  He played a few more hands, but found he had lost his interest in trying to hustle the money.  He had a few hundred in the bank, a few favors he could call in, he thought.

Besides he didn’t want to wear himself out.  He stopped playing after a winning hand and walked away with his chips.  He cashed out and went back to his apartment after stopping at the bank, a simple dwelling, a studio apartment.  He called his friends, took a shower, picked out his best shirt and jeans, then headed out to his friends.  He drove all around town to bars, casinos, and homes to get the money but by the time he made it back to the casino he over two thousand dollars.  He had two bulges in his pants as he walked into the place.  He stopped at the reception to call up to the room.

“Hello, yes, come right up,” Raj said.

Clay walked with his shoulders high to the elevators, but noticed the regular elevators didn’t go to Raj’s room.  He smirked as he turned to the other elevator bank, a special elevator to the largest rooms.  He passed a few women headed to the pool, athletic women, and tipped his hat, watched their butts after they passed.  He stepped onto the elevator, pressed the button for the floor and put his thumbs in pockets. 

Moments later he was there.  He stepped off with a renewed commitment to win.  Everything made him feel like this was going to be his lucky night.  He strutted down the hall to the room where he knocked as cordially as he could, soon after Raj opened the door and invited him inside. 

There was a mix of men and women of different ethnicities around the room but he could tell easily that he was the poorest of them and for a moment his two thousand dollars didn’t feel like such a big bulge, but he steadied himself as Raj took him into the bedroom where he placed the wad of bills in a safe with piles of cash.  Raj was quick to take him by the elbow and usher him back out to the bar to introduce him to a few of the guests.

They made small talk for a few minutes as people began to move to the poker table set up by the window.  There were only six players, five men and one woman.  Raj continued to guide him by the elbow over to the table.

“Listen, I’m sorry for telling you the wrong amount.  The other players wanted to raise the entry limit.  I’ll cover you for another three thousand,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” Clay replied.  “But-”

Raj was quick to stop him by planting him in a chair.  Clay looked around at these other players and felt he could take them easily, it would be too good.  He’d make up the three thousand easily and maybe roll them for another couple of grand, he thought.  He decided to play.

And it was easy, except for Raj, but nearly everyone had a tell except for the Japanese man but he liked to drink too much so he bet more as the night went on and lost it all.  Like Raj had said the old men didn’t mind losing they just bet small so he had to slow roll them to get them betting more, feign weakness.  By the end of the night he was up twelve thousand and the game ended, not because they were out of money, no, but because most of them were drunk.  Raj walked them out in turn, thanked them for their time but really he was thanking them for their money.

Somehow, for some reason, maybe it was just to collect his winnings without anyone else around, Clay was the last as Raj made his way back to the table.  Two men, they looked across the table at each other and smiled.

“You did very good tonight,” Raj said.  “What will you spend your winnings on?”

“Steak, lots of steak, and maybe a woman.”

“No girlfriend?”

“No, couldn’t afford one, but now I can,” Clay said.  “Thank you for inviting me up for this.  You were right, they didn’t care about losing.  Just how rich were they?”

“I don’t like to gossip,” Raj said.  And for a moment Clay felt like he had asked the wrong question, but then the man grinned at him.  “Filthy rich,” he replied and they laughed a little, “they can afford to lose it.  I’d rather it be in your pocket then theirs.”

Clay groaned with relief as he sat back in his chair.  He stretched out his arms.  It was over.  He had won.  But Raj barely moved, in fact he stared at him.  Did he want to play another game, one on one?  He rubbed at his face, readied himself to quit.

“Would you be willing to play another hand?”

“I don’t know.  I’m tired,” Clay said. 

That’s good, he thought, be polite, just banter a little then get the money.  He could imagine himself walking out the door with all of that cash.  It probably wouldn’t fit in his pocket.  He’d need a bag.  Maybe Raj had one he could borrow, maybe even buy, he laughed at himself for the last thought.

“What if we don’t play for money?” Raj asked.

Oh no, Clay thought, the guy is queer and is making his move.

“Sorry, I don’t go in for strip poker or anything like that.  That’s for kids, college kids who want to see each other naked.”

“I’m not talking about strip poker,” Raj replied.

“What are you talking about?”

“I win your money.  You win my money.  We break even.  It doesn’t say much about us as men,” Raj said.  “But we could play for something else, something that could tell us about who we are as men.”

“You’ve lost me partner.  I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Wait right there,” Raj said.

He didn’t have much choice, Clay thought as he watched the man walk away from the table.  He went into the bedroom and moments later returned with a long, ornate box that looked like it could hold a pool cue.  I’m not playing pool, he thought, besides it doesn’t prove much about being a man.

Raj opened the box carefully and revealed that inside on a red velvet lining was a long, thin almost plastic looking stick.  Hell of a box for a stick, Clay thought.

“I don’t get it,” Clay said.

Raj returned to his seat at the opposite end of the table.  He leaned on his elbows, looked deep into Clay’s eyes.  It was an intense, unyielding look.  Clay curled his toes.

“When was the last time you were spanked?”

Clay gave out a nervous laugh, uncurled his toes.

“Is that what this is for?  Do you want to spank me?”

“I want to see how brave you are.  How brave are you?”

“I’m brave.  I’ve been spanked.  Hell, I’ve even cut my own switch for my mother to whip my ass but that was decades ago.  I was a bad kid.  This barely looks like it will hurt.”

“We set aside our earnings.  The money you won is all yours.  We get new chips, a hundred each, but this time the loser collects.  The number of chips equals the number of times we get whipped.”

“We?”

“I’ve played this game a few times and no one ever ends up with all of the chips.  Eventually someone gives up when they start to lose.  The person with the lowest number gets it first from the other player.  It’s easier that way.”

“I don’t know man, this is some weird shit,” Clay said.

“Are you scared?”

Clay laughed him off with a push of his hands, then looked to the stick between them, not a stick, a cane, something like the British used to have before corporal punishment became illegal.  A cane, on his bottom, he shrugged at the thought, but as he looked at Raj looking back at him so eager he couldn’t help but think of winning and taking it to the man, really laying into him with it, maybe he’d stop playing.  He could teach this man a lesson, he thought.

“Okay, let’s play a few hands,” he said.

It started in jest, the chips were set aside and new ones put in their place, a hundred each.  Raj started the blind low, made small bets.  Clay tried to prod him into committing more, hand after hand they pulled the chips back and forth at nearly even amounts until Clay started to notice his pile was getting larger and Raj was winning more hands.  He was difficult to read, especially now as he had a new, almost sadistic intent.  The stick became more ominous as Clay found himself betting more trying to intimidate his opponent but Raj stuck with him and a few losing hands later Clay doubted his strategy and thought to change it up.  But that stick was in his mind even when he closed his eyes, it was almost like he could feel it striking his bottom.  Finally he lost his nerve as he collected a pile of chips and looked to Raj who had twenty-three piled neatly in front of him, and threw in his cards.

“Okay, you win, I lose.  You beat me fair and square, but I’m still not sure about this whole thing.  I mean I don’t think I’m going to let you hit me with that thing.”

“Are you going to welsh on a bet?”

“You know, I don’t ever, I mean, I ain’t ever, but this is just too much.”

“Don’t you want to give it to me?” Raj rippled his chips a few times, twenty three chips, he picked them up and dropped them one at a time a few times as Clay looked to his own collection.  Maybe, just maybe he could hurt the guy enough to give up, maybe even if he wanted he could refuse when it came to his turn.  He’d get his money and just leave, he thought.  But a bet is a bet, he thought, hell he’d done foolish things before because of a bet: strip poker, run naked through the streets, and even dry hump a stuffed animal on his girlfriend’s bed.

He could strike Raj a few times, try to get an idea of how it felt, and make his decision later, he told himself.  He bit at his lip as he leaned over the table and picked up the cane.  He sat back and swiped through the air a few times.  It had a distinct swish that raised the hair on the back of his neck.  Twenty-three and this guy is toast, he thought, especially if it’s on the bare.

“Okay, let’s do it,” he said.

“Good,” Raj replied.

Good?  Clay was starting to have doubts but Raj was quick to get up from his seat and move around the table.  He looked to Clay with vulnerable eyes.

“Where?” Clay asked.

“Anywhere,” Raj replied.  “The person wielding the cane gets to decide.”

“Okay, lean against the poker table,” Clay said.

Raj first undid his belt, opened his jeans to reveal silk briefs, then turned to the table.  He lowered the back of his underwear to below his cheeks, leaned against the table and pulled up his shirt at the same time.  Clay got up and moved behind the man.  He looked at the man’s butt, firm cheeks with a few scars.  Were they scars from this cane?  Some of them had to be, but maybe some of the scars were from other canes, he reasoned.  How much did this man play this game and how much did he win?

Clay practiced a few swings in the air and he noticed Raj tense with each swish.  It was the man’s idea but even this cane made him nervous.  Just how much did it hurt?

“Sorry, I’m not messing with you,” Clay said.  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Yes, do it,” Raj replied.

And like that Clay landed his first blow to the man’s buttocks.  It was a soft one, partly held back by Clay’s own hesitation to cause the man pain.  He struck him a few more times, tried to move up and down over his flesh, never hit the man’s spine or kidneys, he thought.  Raj took each hit with a determined grunt until fourteen and then he began to whine a little as Clay saw the marks he was leaving were crossing over each other.  He swallowed hard at the thought of being on the receiving end, but fifteen and he realized he was running out so he began to strike the man harder and harder trying to get him to break.  Maybe he’ll give it up, Clay thought as he got to twenty, but the man had a renewed breath with the hit.  He had been counting too, just three more, so Clay made them good ones but the man didn’t falter.  The final blow and Clay set the cane on the table and stepped away as he watched Raj steady his breathing.

The man turned on him, smirked a little as he pulled up his underwear and his pants.  He tucked in his shirt, fastened his belt buckle, and zipped up his fly.  He looked to the cane then to Clay who stepped back again.

“There’s no way I can take one hundred and seventy-seven,” Clay said.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Raj said, “just seventy-seven and that’s it, all you have to take and then you’ll get your cash and you can be on your way.”

“That’s still, I don’t know...” Clay said.

“You made a bet.  Are you going to honor it?”

The man was questioning his honor?  No, no way, Clay thought.  He stepped forward and undid his belt, set the buckle on the table as Raj picked up the cane and stepped behind him.  Clay unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed his pants down to his ankles.  Why had he chosen white briefs?  He shrugged off the thought as he pulled them down around his butt just like Raj had done.  He leaned against the table, puled up his shirt, and readied himself.

“Just do it,” he said.

Raj was quick with the first strike.  It hurt but Clay tried to shrug it off like a bug bite, just don’t think about it he told himself, but the second one was in the exact same spot.  Raj wasn’t being as merciful as he had been by moving up and down, a few more and he’d break skin.  The third and fourth were succinct and in a different place, but still close, two more and Clay balled his fists.  Seven, eight, nine, and ten were all in different places but they bit into his flesh with a kind of sting that lingered. 

Another three and he felt a pain that was building up in the middle of his cheeks.  By the time Raj got to twenty the pain moved up his back to just above his butt, another five and the pain ran along his spine to his chest.  He congratulated himself for taking more than Raj had and still not crying.  Five more lines and his skin began to turn against him, his butt twitched, one cheek then the other, a pain in his lungs.  He refused to cry out in true pain, refused to ask for mercy.  Thirty-five and the pain was in his throat, a throbbing sensation that ran back and forth between his shoulders and his butt. 

Forty and the pain that had stopped in his throat sunk down to his knees, his ankles and his feet, but he refused to let himself fall.  Another five in quick succession. He tried to hold himself more steady but as he pushed himself up his elbows ran against felt and the sensation confused his nerves.  The pain in his throat pushed up behind his eyes and that was all he it needed as he began to cry salty tears that ran down to his lips.  He could taste himself.  He grabbed at the table but the man struck him again, five more times, lines that crossed over lines.  Was that blood?  Did he break skin? 

Just twenty-seven more, he told himself, but oh god even those first twenty-seven had hurt.  It was only going to get worse.  He felt his cheeks twitching uncontrollably.  He had lost control of himself.  His feet wouldn’t move, it felt like they were stuck in cement.  He continued to cry as Raj seemed to have stopped.  He cried until he felt as if he had run dry and his body felt like it had come under his control.  Raj watched him carefully, one hand gripped the bottom of the cane as the other stroked it maliciously.  It wasn’t over, Clay thought, but he had come this far.

“Are you ready?” Raj asked.

“Yes,” Clay croaked.

“How many are left?”

“Twenty-seven,” Clay said.

“What if I decide to call in all of my bet?”

“No, you said...”

“You made the bet, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll think it over if you strip off your clothing,” Raj said.

And there it was.  The man had plans for him, further humiliation, and yet there was no stopping it.  Clay pushed himself up and tried to unfasten a button, he tugged at it to pop it loose and Raj stopped him.  He set the cane down on the table and with steady hands he undid the buttons of Clay’s shirt, even helped him get it off.  Clay let it drop to the floor but Raj wouldn’t have it and picked it up, set it on the table.  Clay felt like putty as he bent over to let the man pull off his undershirt.  It fell from his fingers and he felt so much cooler as if he had shed his skin.  He leaned back carefully and for the first time he realized just how much he had sweated, just how much his muscles had tensed.  Raj pulled a chair in front of him and sat, then picked up each of Clay’s feet in turn to pull off his boots and jeans. 

All that was left was his underwear, a pouch really, that covered his dick and balls.  Raj stood and with a gentle hand pushed him backwards until he was staring up at the ceiling.  Clay looked down to Raj as the man pushed his feet into the air.  His bare butt stuck out.  Was that all he wanted?  No, Raj gripped his white briefs and pulled them down across his thighs, over his shins, ankles, and his feet and then they were gone.  He was bare, on his back, in a stranger’s hotel room on a poker table and the man wasn’t done with him.

Fifty, Clay told himself, fifty and there’s twenty-seven left, less ahead than behind.  Raj placed his arm along the back of Clay’s knees and pushed until his thighs were against his belly, his dick and balls trapped.  Raj was careful to line up for the next swing as he appreciated just what he had done to the man.  Caned and crying, naked and on his table in the most vulnerable of positions, his asshole on full display and exposed the man didn’t know just what he was letting be done to him.

Clay felt the shift of his skin, no longer protected by the meaty flesh his asshole seemed like an unlikely target.  By the second strike of this new round he realized just how wrong he was as he felt a blow across his hole.  It was a new kind of pain that went directly along his spine, through his lungs, and to his brain.  He began to cry again, sobs really, through five more strikes, not all of them across his hole but when they landed it felt like the pain had doubled.  Two more to his taught, vulnerable skin, the inside of his ass cheeks and he kicked out, his thighs fell against the end of the table and he reached for his butt as the man stepped away.  He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands but it was little help.  He felt his bare chest rising up and down, the small of his back not quite making contact with the felt, his butt felt like it had spread out into impossible shapes, his nipples in the cool air, and his dick limp over his hairy balls.

“How many more?” he asked the man.

“Seventeen, or maybe a hundred and seventeen, I’m not sure,” Raj answered.

“Please, I can barely take one more, there’s no way I can take a hundred.  I’ll do anything, anything, just please let this be over.”

“Stand up,” Raj said.

“What?”

“I said stand up,” Raj ordered.

Clay pushed himself up to his feet, his skin twisted and reformed in new ways made it feel like he was ripping apart his own butt cheeks as he did but he got to his feet but his eyes fell to the floor.  He saw his own bare feet, felt his own bare dick hung down over his balls, the way his chest filled with air.  And then he saw it, the cane, low in one of Raj’s hands but right there in sight.  He cringed at it.

“I’m not done with you,” Raj said.  “Down on your knees, hands and knees.”

Clay fell to his knees, his hands and knees, as ordered.

“Crawl forward,” Raj said, and he did.  “Ten more like this.”

Raj struck him across the butt, his own body felt incredibly heavy, his knees burned and his hands felt like they would give but he held himself there for the rest of the blows despite the tears falling from his eyes.  Then Raj walked away, across the room to a couch where he sat.  Clay looked across the room to him.

“Crawl to me,” Raj said.

Clay did.  He crawled across the floor to the man until he ended up in front of him, at his knees, at his feet.  He looked up to the man’s eyes but when he looked back Clay broke away and looked to the man’s chest.  His chest, his belly, his thighs, anywhere but the man’s crotch where he saw a bulge.

“Take down my pants and underwear,” Raj ordered.

Clay reached up quicker than he really knew what he was doing.  He grabbed at the man’s belt, undid it, undid his pants, and with one tug had both his pants and underwear down around his ankles.  He went back to all fours and looked to the man’s impressive dick that stuck out along his left thigh, ejaculate leaking from the tip.

“Suck my dick,” the man said.

Clay pushed himself to it.  He grabbed at the man’s thighs and his dick, stuck it between his lips.  He suckled at it, licked at it, and gagged as he tried to stick it all of the way into his throat.  Raj pushed him away at the sound.

“Don’t be so greedy.  A good blow job should take time and I know you’ve never done this before so I don’t want you to choke.  Just suck on the tip of it, lick it up and down a little, tongue my balls, suck on my nuts, let that tongue get under them, really in there almost to my asshole but if you get that far you get more of the cane.”

Clay nodded with each thing the man said but as he actually considered it he felt repulsed a little until he shifted and felt his butt against the heels of his feet.  He’d do anything for a little reprieve, anything not to feel a hundred more strikes.  He went back at the man’s dick and did exactly as he had been told.  He sucked at the tip, licked the shaft, tongued the balls, even sucked on them a little, and ran his tongue as far as he could stand along his taint.  Did he reach the asshole?  He hoped not.

But the man’s dick was easier to stroke and as he felt it swell he sucked at the head some more hoping to push him over the edge to true satisfaction.  Raj grabbed hold of the back of his head, fingers in his hair, he pushed Clay down onto his dick as he felt his orgasm.  Ejaculate hit the back of the his throat, ran down it, into his stomach.  Clay pulled away and Raj let him go.  He pushed away to the floor and looked up to the man who grinned back at him.

“Not very skilled but damn that was hot,” Raj said.

Clay felt his own nakedness, his own vulnerability.  He looked up to the man as he pushed himself up on one elbow.

“Am I done?” Clay asked.

“Just seven more,” Raj answered.

Slim

A slim man with long legs, his jeans were faded  and clung to his butt, a partially tucked plaid shirt, a short beard of black hair, handsome with a wad of chew in his cheek, he looked to me with a curious eye as I stood next to him in the aisle of the convenience store. Play it subtle, I told myself, don't come on too strong and don't get noticed by the clerk. I was about to approach him but he turned away in a moment of fear so I went back to my own business of shopping. After picking out a few things I noticed he hadn't checked out so I made my way to the back where I found him considering which flavor of beer he wanted. I sighed and looked away despite his appealing figure, the way he stood with one hand on his hip. I moved closer but kept my eye on the beer.

"Have you ever tried that?" he asked pointing to a case of dark, Mexican beer. His first words and he was talking to me. A rush of excitement ran from my toes to my spine, from my spine to my lungs but I tried to keep control and focused on my breathing.

"A bit strong," I said, "but very flavorful. I like something a bit lighter myself."

"Coors?"

"No, I think I can do for something a little more. How about you?"

"A bit expensive for a six-pack," he said.

"My treat," I said as friendly as I could.

"There's nobody at my place tonight except me and my dog," he said.

"Maybe we could share," I replied.

"I'd like to try something new," he said.

I took out a six-pack of the beer of my choosing and a case of beer he would like, then motioned for him to head out. The cashier put down her phone long enough for me to checkout. I carried my goods out to my car, unlocked the doors. I put my things in the trunk, moved to the driver's door. He looked around for a moment before getting into the passenger seat. I pulled out from the parking lot and for a moment I was afraid he wouldn't speak again, that he'd open the car door and run, but he cleared his throat and began to give me instructions to his home. We drove out of town on one of the highways that passed through for several miles, then turned off on a country road, then another until there were few houses. We passed several farms until the paved road turned to dirt. We came to a trailer surrounded by trees. A dog tied to a post came out from a small house to bark at us but changed from anger to happiness when the man got out of the car. He walked to it, greeted it with a gentle hand as he squatted in front of it displaying once again his muscled butt.

I grinned at the sight of him before remembering the beer in the trunk of the car. He unfastened the dog and lead it to the front door as I got the two cases. I followed after him, stepped inside tentatively. He told me not to worry and that he had put the dog in its kennel with some food. I set the beer on a nearby table before I looked around at the place. It was unusually clean for a single man, decorated by old furniture and a few framed photographs, there was no television and a single couch against the far wall. I spotted his refrigerator, put the beer away except for a bottle each. I made my way over to him, gave him one, and we sat next to each other on the couch. I took a drink from my bottle, he gulped at his. We didn't speak for a long time and for a moment I thought he was having second thoughts but then he set down his beer, reached for his belt. I noted the buckle was gold in color with some kind of logo but I could barely make out what it said as he undid his belt. He unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped his fly, and fished out his impressive dick from a pair of white briefs. I watched as he began to stroke himself until he was erect.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's very nice," I replied.

"Would you like to touch it?"

"Yes please," I answered.

He took my hand and guided it to his dick. I wrapped my fingers around it, felt the warmth of him, the softness of his skin, the resiliency of his blood. He smiled at me and that's when I knew he had done this type of thing before. I smiled back as I began to rub his dick, slid my hand up and down his long shaft as I studied it, felt the way it bounced back with a little bit of pressure.

"You're drooling," he said.

I checked myself. I wasn't drooling but my mouth had been open in some kind of unconscious act, some kind of habit. I leaned down, wet my lips then nipped at the head of his dick before putting it in my mouth. I listened to him grown as he relaxed, felt his body shift. I let him feel the warmth of my mouth before letting it go any farther. I sucked at him, let the spit build up in my mouth until it leaked from my lips and ran down to his nuts.

"You're so good," he said, "don't stop."

I got down on my knees before him but it wasn't enough to just suck on his dick. I wanted all of his flesh so I reached up to his waist, sunk my fingers in between his underwear and skin then pulled. He gave in to my desire as he lifted up enough for me to work his jeans and tighty whities down to his ankles. I went back at him, licked at his balls as his shaft pushed against the side of my face. I moved down slowly, first under his balls, then to that sensitive patch of skin.

I ran my tongue back up between his balls to his dick, licked along the shaft until I reached the head which I took between my lips. I sucked at his cock and looked up into his eyes as he grabbed at the cushions. He balled his fists to try and keep control of himself but I heard his breath leave his body when I took all of him in my mouth right down to his balls and I stuck out my tongue to his tightened balls. This rough, modern cowboy was mine, I thought as I pulled off of him, sat back on my haunches, grabbed at his dick with one hand, stuck two fingers from my other hand in my mouth.

I waited until his dick was as hard as it could get, full of blood, veins full, the bulbous head sensitive and dripping, then I worked a slippery finger between his cheeks, his tight ass gave easily. I found his prostate, gave it a tickle. He grunted and moaned for me to keep at it so I stuck his dick back in my mouth. I felt his pulse around my finger, the spasm of his anus but I thought he could take a second finger so I slipped the next one into his warmth. He shuddered and began to have an orgasm. His thick, warm ejaculate filled my mouth and I swallowed it as I continued to suck.

There was more to be had from this young man as my fingers tickled inside of him. I sucked at his bulbous head, grabbed hold of his dick with three fingers of my free hand and stroked. I thought my arm would give out but he had another second orgasm within minutes of the first. I pulled my fingers from him, took the second mouthful to the kitchen sink and spat it out. I washed my hands with the dish soap as I looked over to him still on the couch with his eyes closed, his hard dick slowly deflating between his legs.

My own hard dick still tucked away in my jeans began to soften no doubt having made a mess of my own tighty whites. He finally opened his eyes to look at me as I dried my hands with some nearby paper towels.

"That was new," he said.

"I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for indulging in my ministrations."

"You can't tell anyone," he said.

"I don't even know your name," I replied.

"Oh, right, well if we see each other around town..."

"Total strangers, unless, you know, you want to do something else."

I took in the sight of him one last time, his hairy thighs, his dick now leaking between them, his jeans and briefs down around his ankles. He scratched at his stomach revealing an equally hairy belly that was soft from not exercising that part of his body.

"Well, that was good," he said. "Do you want to stick around for another beer?"

He sounded genuine and I would have enjoyed the sight of him sitting there or else walking around in his jockies, maybe even get him to go another round, but no I had my fun, I told myself, shouldn't be too greedy.

"No, I should be going," I replied.

He got up from his seat, pulled up his pants and underwear, then made his way over to me, and shook my hand before stepping with me to the door. I stepped out into the cool air, smiled at what I had just done, and headed to my car. It was a slow drive back to my home, the taste of him still on my tongue.

Wanderlust- Christmas Vacation

My first few weeks at college were a blur of ceaseless activities, everyone wanted to get to know everyone else, if only to know who to avoid in the future. There were many late nights, studying at odd hours like four in the morning just before the test, and talking to friends about the meaning of life, homesickness, and careers. But nothing classified you more than the frat experience. Some pledged to fraternities out of their league, while others like myself reluctantly joined a house only after my roommate, Michael, bothered me about it. We didn't pledge the same frat. He was more enthusiastic about the prospect than I was because he was a legacy at an elite frat. I joined a bunch of fellow hay seeds.

There was very little homosexual and homoerotic activity where I pledged. There was a paddle involved and a lot of us just being in our underwear, but it felt so casual, guys walked around in less in the dorm bathrooms. I didn't ask my roommate but I heard rumors about what he had to endure. I assumed there was a lot more paddling and humiliation to it. One person told me he spied on them once, saw all the pledges in cloth diapers. Another person told me they sodomized each other. Possibly the most accurate was a pledge having to lie naked in a coffin with his fraternity brothers around while he confessed everything he had ever done wrong so they'd know his secrets. My first thought was blackmail but the person I was talking to said it was for protection. I dreamed of being a fly on the wall when my roommate was doing it.

At over six foot tall he was a head taller than me and I had seen him naked around the room, in the bathroom. He was broad shouldered, muscular, and well hung. It was difficult imagining someone paddling him but not impossible because he had this kindness to him, a sense of humor. I knew he came from money but he never lorded it over anyone. He was actually generous with his time and his money. That's how I ended up going to his family's home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

We'd been talking about our home lives one night when I mentioned I'd be staying on campus. He told me the school mostly closed but there was a traditional meal for students, faculty, and administrators who had nowhere to go. I made a sarcastic remark about a tin of beans and some canned ham which he laughed at a little but then he invited me to go to his family's home. I declined at first because I didn't want to impose but he told me to think about it. When I finally accepted he got a little excited about it, started naming things we'd do, things I'd get to see.

Thanksgiving was just a two day thing. We traveled up the day before, slept in his old room, me on the floor and him in bed, got up the next morning with everyone else. His father was a strict, intimidating man who had to win a handshake. His mother was a polite woman who I seemed to think of herself as being better than most people though she'd never say it. He had two brothers and a sister. One brother was older, the other was three years younger and his sister was the youngest, barely a teenager. They were polite to me but reserved. I kind of felt like I was getting the cold shoulder and about to think the whole thing was a disaster but Michael wouldn't let me get negative.

He took me around his hometown a little, showed me where he went to school and we got candy from a little store on Main Street but mostly it felt like we were killing time. That night everyone ate too much at dinner, we smoked and drank with the men in his father's study then went to bed. The next morning we left and traveled back to campus. We said it was to study, which we did a little but mostly it was to be on our own without people looking over our shoulders. His mother sent along supplies that lasted us a day and a half, after that we made trips into town to eat at one of the diners.

Christmas was different because for starters it wasn't at his father's home, instead it was at the family home, an old estate out in the rural, farmlands. But it wasn't a farm exactly, though they had horses and other farm animals, it was a mansion. The extended family was there so again we had to share a room but there were more servants, people who took care of things.

For once the holidays were about playing and fun, not full of chores and responsibilities. We did the things we were supposed to do, church and family time, but we also had a sense of personal time that we could do whatever we wanted. For Michael that usually meant hiking in the snow. The only good part of that is when we'd get back to the house, back to our rooms, and strip down for bed. Our room had its own fireplace but Michael wouldn't let me sleep on the floor as it was so cold outside. He insisted that we bundle together.

Everything was fairly ordinary. His parents did have an extra stocking by the chimney for me and it did have a few presents, though less than others. I had only thought to get him a gift, a pen and pencil writing set. He got me an engraved, metal bookmark. Really the gifts weren't the important parts though. The important part was not being alone, that and drinking with the other men after supper. Most of it was uneventful except the last night there.

The last night there we strolled back to the room arms around each other, drunk on brandy. We fell onto the bed together, a fire having already been made for us the room wasn't very cold. Side by side we chatted a little about things until we fell asleep. An hour later I woke up to the sound of him sleeping and an erection strained against the inside of my jeans. I barely gave it a thought, at least there was no worry, as I began to rub my dick as I stared at him. I worked myself until all I wanted was to have an orgasm and that's when he woke up, looked to me and smiled. At first I thought it was just the liquor and I half expected, wanted, him to turn over but he didn't. He sat up a little on his elbows, looked to me.

"Having fun?"

I was stunned by his question for a moment before I could think of just how ashamed I should have been. I had taken our intimacy, our friendship, for granted. This was it, it's over, I thought. But he just smiled at me, then he did something I didn't expect, he reached for my dick. He had hold of it for a moment until I pulled away, pushed myself to the edge of the bed, dizziness stopped me from moving away more and getting up.

"I won't tell anyone," he said. "It's normal."

My face flushed, my fingers tightened on the denim, and I could smell the fire burning a few feet away from us. I felt the bed shift as he got to his knees behind me and moved to my back, cautiously, gently, he wrapped his arms around me. I feared for a moment that he'd attack me though he had never been violent with me before but still I felt it. Instead he pulled me into his embrace, put his head on my shoulder. Our cheeks touched. It felt electric. His fingers moved up my shirt, his hands were so certain as he unbuttoned my shirt, pulled it from my body. Next was my undershirt before he pulled me backwards, lay me at his side as he moved his body partially over mine. He unfastened my belt, my jeans and pulled them down where he hesitated for a moment with my shoes.

Once they were off my whole body relaxed despite him pulling off my jeans and socks next. He ran his fingers up my legs through my thin growth of hair until he reached my white briefs, my aching dick. He slipped a few fingers under the band at my thigh, tickled the fleshy head until he peeled back my foreskin. I gulped for breath and spit as he traced it with one finger. I reached for him with my nearest hand. I was barely able to touch him back when he ran his finger up to my bellybutton. He lay his palm on my tummy as he moved to kiss me. Our burning lips touched, there was a flick of tongue and then he pulled away.

"You can't tell anyone," he said.

"I promise."

"Good because I want this to be special."

He kissed me again as he pushed his hand back down to my underwear, put his fingers inside to my slippery cock. I rolled towards him a little, finally got a hold of him with my far hand, felt his hip, his belt and tucked in shirt. He was still completely clothed and I was almost naked, definitely the most vulnerable, so I pulled at his shirt until it came loose, unfastened his belt and slacks. I grabbed hold of his dick as it poked out of the fly of his boxers. We worked each other like that for a while as we continued to kiss. Finally I pulled away from him.

"I want you to fuck me," I said.

His head fell, his face half buried in my shoulder.

"I've never done much more than this. I've sucked a little, usually the other guy does the same. I've never, you know, done it."

I squeezed his dick until he looked me in the eye.

"I'll show you how," I said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but we should get under the sheets. It's cold."

He pulled away from me so I got to my feet as he did the same. I pulled back the covers, then watched as he stripped down completely, his dick stuck out from him and bounced as he got back into bed. I pulled off my underwear, got back in on my knees, straddled him as I pulled the blankets up over my back. I squashed his dick and mine between us as I kissed him some more, played with his nipples until they were hard points and he began to fidget at my touch.

Satisfied that I had worked him into a passionate desire, that I had his consent, I kissed my way from his neck down to his dick. In the darkness under the sheets I licked and kissed it, nibbled and spit until it felt slippery, then I spit into my own hand and rubbed it on my asshole until I thought we were both prepared. I moved back up him, over his dick then back onto it. Slowly I worked it inside of myself with the help of some more spit until I settled to the base, my balls touched his pubic hair for a moment before they retracted as I played with my own dick. I worked myself slowly as I was conscious of the way it made my asshole contract. I felt him there. He was inside of me but I was the one who really had him. He was subject to my desire, my will.

I rose up and sunk back down slowly, listened to the way he breathed. I grabbed at his chest, twisted his nipples some more until he moaned. He grabbed at my hips but I pushed his hands away. I wanted him, his need, to be under my control. I lowered my head for a kiss and he tried to raise his head up to meet mine but I dove in shorter to his chest, his neck. I sucked at his flesh and gave him my fingers, stuck them in his mouth. His lips were like smoldering coals that came to life with my touch. His tongue, his spit, my fingers went to the back of his throat, back and forth, in and out as I continued to ride him.

Sweat ran from my shoulders, pooled at the small of my back. He groaned and grunted to my manipulation. I bucked a few times, then slowed, a few more times as I reached back and took hold of his balls. I pulled them a little, tickled them. He tried to take hold of me again but I pushed his hands away. I slid off of him, scooted up over his arms, pinned him to the bed, stuck my dick to his lips. He sucked at it eagerly so I pushed inside until he gagged, then I pulled out to let him catch his breath. I took hold of the back of his head and told him to lick my balls which he did without complaint.

I toyed with my dick as he licked me down there, sometimes his tongue went a little deeper but not by much. He kept at until I knew I was close to a climax. I moved back down, took hold of his dick and worked it back inside of me. It didn't take much more to send me over the edge. My ejaculate shot up to the headboard, into his hair, onto his face. That was when my body gripped him the tightest and he also ejaculated inside of me. We moaned in pleasure and pain, then fell silent. I pushed myself from him, fell beside him, put my head in the crook of his arm, let one arm settle over his chest.

We smelled of sweat, but I didn't want to move as my senses came back to me, not until we had cooled off and then it was only to pull the blankets and sheets up over top of us.

Wanderlust- Back to the Grindstone

Returning home from college for summer break I felt a sense of independence like no other time in my life. My mind had been expanded. I had learned not only of other cultures and other religions but of the opportunities any man could have with an adventure to the city, some spark of his imagination. With more of an education there was a real chance of no longer being beholden to my father and his farm. As I rode back to town on the train everything felt so much smaller. At the station I noticed details that had been so ordinary, even the wagon and horses guided by one of the farm hands felt antiquated compared to the cars I had seen. Things were slow to change there, I reasoned that I would have to escape in order to be successful, and so the closer I got to the farm the sadder I felt.

A kind of gloom fell over me, especially once we got to the property I began feel sentimental for this land, these people. I would have to one day leave them behind, one day in the not too distant future would be the last and then never again. But when the wagon finally stopped in front of the house that had been my home for so long I forced myself to smile, perked up my shoulders and went inside to greet my parents. It had been almost a whole year, since I hadn't been back on winter break and instead spent the holidays with a college friend's family. There had been many cold nights at his parents' home that gave us many good reasons to bundle up together and share the same bed. Waking up next to him, so warm and safe, still brings a smile to face, but that's a story for another time. Once I was back on the farm I had to forget those things, on the farm there was only work and swift justice.

My parents looked older than I had remembered them. My mother seemed to slouch more, my father's hair more gray. I hugged them each in turn and we had a small meal before my father said that we should get to work. There was always something to be done on the farm. Just the thought of going out to barn got me excited. I was unsure if Brad and Rocko were still working there but I had good reason to expect they were. There had been no mention of either of them leaving in my mother's letters. For a while I had worried my father might fire Rocko for spanking me and making me work in my underwear but he hadn't, not even a comment. And I was terrified Brad would say something about what we did or otherwise get caught in some compromising position, but I reasoned that he hadn't.

So when I saw Brad in the loft moving hay I was relieved and elated. I wanted to run to him, hug him, kiss him, and pull off our clothes but the best I could do was stare at him with my jaw hanging loose, give him a nod. My father mentioned something about getting hay from a different farmers field as he complained about this stuff having too many weeds but I barely paid attention. I admired Brad's form then we were off. He showed me a new tractor, pointed out repairs that had been made to the buildings before making our way to the final site. Rocko was in the ring with a new stallion when we found him. He waved hello to us and we waved back, for a moment I thought that would be it until my father signaled for him to come over to us. He handed the reigns over to one of the other hands as we got closer to the fence.

Just getting close to him made me weak in the knees. At a distance he was small, ordinary, but up close, right in front of me he was a force of nature with his broad shoulders, muscled arms, narrow waist. He looked down to me and gave a little smile with just the twitch of his cheek. It was as if he remembered but wasn't going to hold it over me, keep me in pain.

"My son here is back from college, he might have forgotten a few things but I expect he can get back into the swing of things. I expect you to put him back into the mix with his regular chores starting this evening and maybe he can help you here."

"Yes sir," Rocko said.

My father looked to me and I stared back unsure of just what he expected.

"Well get to it," he said.

"Yes sir," I replied before ducking and climbing through the fencing. Rocko helped me steady myself on the other side and just for a moment I wished I had fallen into his arms but I quickly stepped away from him as I hoped my father hadn't seen, hadn't suspected what I felt. We walked together to the horse as my father headed back to the house. It was almost ordinary until my father called back to us, "don't be afraid to use the whip. He could use some discipline."

My face went red with embarrassment, my ears burned. I shook my head as I looked to the ground. One foot in front of the other, I told myself. Me or the horse, I thought. My father was a man of secrets and innuendo who could hold a silence, keep a person in suspense and then make some vague comment like that, though usually it was a joke to lighten the mood sometimes it wasn't. A comment like that would normally leave me reeling for hours but somehow being outside in the ring with Rocko and something to do I dismissed it.

He took back the reigns easily and worked the horse until it was tired then he brought it in close. I moved to its front shoulder and petted it gently as he let it nuzzle against his armpit. After letting the horse catch it's breath we walked it back to the stalls where we did a little bit of tidying up. I felt like everything had returned to normal until it was time for washing up before dinner. Rocko led me to one of the empty stalls with a bucket and hose. Rocko took off his shirt. I reluctantly did the same. I felt a little ashamed at having gained a bit of weight. I sighed at my love handles. Good eating and being lazy, I thought. Rocko smirked.

"We'll burn that off of you this summer," he said.

I blushed at the comment and tried to think of a sarcastic reply when I heard a familiar voice behind me say hello. It was Brad. Just the sound of him snapped me from my friendly bond with Rocko. Just the sound brought back that day, that night. His flesh and my flesh in carnal embrace, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck, my clothes and boots felt impossibly big. He moved to my side and clapped a hand to my shoulder as he put an arm around them.

"Good to see you're back for the summer," he said.

Rocko eyed us a moment as he dried his armpits with a towel. He began to put his shirt on and I thought to say something, to push Brad away from me but it was too late. Rocko was on his way out and Brad was there to stay, bonded to me. Neither of us spoke until Rocko left the barn and we were fairly certain no one else was around.

"I missed you," he said. "It's been an extra long winter without you."

Was he getting romantic? Was he getting sentimental? It seemed so unlike him that I doubted he was being honest. I rolled my eyes but he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, a sloppy kiss that left spit where his lips had been. He gripped at me again before he moved away to the other side of the bucket. I was shocked to see him begin to strip down, not just his shirt but his jeans too and his underwear. I wiped the spit from my face with my hand as I watched him splash water on his body, with special attention to his armpits, dick, and hairy balls. We had fallen into a silence. I was content to just watch him until he spoke.

"I got a few bottles of moonshine, some bad shit that will put hairs on your chest and a few more on your balls too. What do you say?"

 I gulped at the invitation. I had done very little drinking until then, the most in one sitting was Brandywine over the holidays. I had gotten red in the face and naked, oh god naked with Michael. We lay facing each other, gently exploring each other's bodies with our fingers, and then our lips, eventually our tongues. Brad and I could do the same thing.

"I'm in for it," I said. "When?"

"Tonight, after everyone goes to sleep, just sneak out of your bedroom window and meet me out at the pavilion. I'll bring everything."

Once again I wanted Rocko but all I could get was Brad. He had been fun once, there was a promise of being fun again. I told him that I would be there then we parted ways. Dinner was an easy routine, I did my evening chores, and prepared for bed like I had always done, said goodnight to my parents and carried the lantern to my bedroom where I opened my window and changed from my night shirt back into my day clothes in preparation and waited until I could hear my parents snoring. I slipped out of my open window, walked across the farm to the pavilion.

For a moment I thought he hadn't made it until he stepped out of the shadows. He handed me a bottle that I took without reservation, put it to my lips and tried to casually drink from it. It burned from my lips to my asshole, settled in my stomach. He laughed a little as I handed it back to him. He took a drink then passed it back to me. I drank again more prepared than I was the first time but still unable to hold back a cry of excitement and a shiver of the body. He took the bottle from me, had a second drink then put the quirk back in it before he set it on the ground. I felt slightly dizzy yet excited and nervous. What had I gotten myself into?

He moved to me, put his hand to my neck, stroked my jaw before he pulled me into a kiss. Our tongues slipped against each other, tickled at each other's lips and teeth as he wrapped his arms around me. His hands went to my ass which he gripped tight enough to make me stand on the tips of my boots. I grabbed back at him, untucked his shirt and he went for my buttons. He worked his fingers down from my collar, each one came undone. He untucked my shirt, unfastened my belt, undid the button and zipper of my jeans. My shirt fell from my shoulders, down my arms to the ground as he pulled my jeans to my ankles. He grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and pulled my cloth covered dick to his lips. He kissed and licked as I looked up to the ceiling and moaned in pleasure as my hard dick drooled against the white fabric.

He peeled down my underwear, my hard dick stuck out from me into the cool air for a moment before his lips went to that area between my dick and scrotum. He moved his wet lips along the shaft, back and forth until I thought I couldn't take anymore. That's when he stuck my dick in his mouth, the flared, bulbous head right into his throat as he sucked and groaned until I could feel the spit run from his lips and down over my balls.

I grabbed at his head, took hold of his curly hair, pulled him as tight as I could before releasing him. He pulled off me and gasped, his hand went to my dick and stroked the shaft as he caught his breath and wiped away spit with his other hand. My legs ached from standing there so I shifted on my feet. He continued to stroke me as I reached for my nipples, worked them into hard points. I was desperate for him to keep sucking. I was disappointed when he stood up until he kissed me on the lips before leading me further into some tall grass where he guided me to the ground and onto all fours.

He moved behind me and I expected him to start rubbing against me but instead I felt something else, his hands pushed my cheeks apart, his fingers pressed into my flesh, something slick, his tongue, went to my hole. It tickled at first and I thought he was just preparing me until he got his tongue into me. Just a little bit of opening and the pleasure ran through me, right to my nipples and the spot between my shoulder blades. I moaned, grunted, and pleaded for him to keep doing it as my hard dick leaked to the ground. I supported myself with one elbow and took hold of my dick as I felt his fingers begin to also work my hole.

In moments I was relaxed for him until I felt his hands move up my body. He took hold of my shoulders as I felt his dick at my hole. He pressed into my slowly, back and forth with small attempts to go deeper until I relaxed to him. His balls hit against mine and I knew it had been done once again. He pulled me into a kiss. It was blissful torture to have him inside me, to be kissing me. I felt him simultaneously. His fingers scraped down my back sending tingles through me. My asshole tightened, my lips felt red hot. He ran his fingers to my hips where he took hold of me before he started to pull out, then push his way back inside. He worked me like a piston, occasionally our lips touched, his fingers roamed, and I got to tickle my own dick until I felt him work until he was almost out of breath.

Sweat rolled down my back, chilled parts of my skin while others burned, my knees and thighs ached, my stomach was tight. His dick felt like it would split me in half, tear me to shreds. He pushed my shoulders into the ground, my nipples rubbed the blades of grass until he worked to one final thrust then collapsed onto me for a moment before he pulled from me and fell to the ground. I rolled onto my side, my hard, leaking dick between my thighs. I rolled to my back took hold of it, the hardest it had ever been, slick with spit. I stroked it with excited abandonment until it exploded up onto me, showered me with my  own ejaculate. Hit my chin and landed on my face, in my hair and on my lips. Splotches cooled on my chest, my stomach, and in my pubic hair. He moved close to me, kissed at my shoulder, my neck, so I rolled to him and kissed him back before turning away to let him move to my backside. His soiled dick pressed against my butt, his chest against my back. We fell asleep.

Act Your Age Book III - Bottoms Up - Misbehaving

The three of us were as casual as we could be on the couch, side-by-side, as we played video games.  I was in an undershirt, socks, and briefs.  Ben was in a diaper.  And Ethan was in pajama bottoms and a ribbed tank top.  We laughed, screamed, and talked smack as we played, sometimes cheering each other, and sometimes trying to distract each other.  We had been at for hours, since sometime in the afternoon until after it got dark and we were running out of steam.  Mr. Grant had found us like that when he got back from the restaurant.  He only shook his head before going back to his office.  I almost thought to call it quits, or else quit for a little bit just to visit him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I think it was Ethan who started the pinching thing.  At first just a peck at someone’s thigh but that turned into going after each other’s sides, then the back, and eventually it was trying to get at each other’s butts.  It was easier with me and Ethan, Ben’s diaper was good protection.  He laughed at us, not even trying to swat away our hands until Ethan really went after him, pulled the diaper back and grabbed some skin. 

They started to wrestle beside me and it seemed like such a couple thing just between them that I didn’t try to intervene or join them.  Face to face, Ben grabbed hold of Ethan's wrists as they struggled for position.  Ethan was clearly stronger as he pushed Ben onto the couch and mounted him with knees on either side.  They laughed and teased each other until they were both red in the face and Ben showed exhaustion by holding his hands close to try and fend off the easiest of taunts.  Seeing them brought a smile to my face, maybe even a little jealousy to my mind. 

When it seemed to be over Ethan leaned down to Ben and they kissed.  At first it was a peck but Ben pulled him into a more passionate act, their tongues clearly fighting for dominance as their hands gripped at each other’s bodies.  It was romantic until Ethan's fingers stuck into Ben’s ribs which caused him to laugh a little, then more, and more until he pushed Ethan away.

“Stop it,” he said.

“Afraid of the tickle monster?” Ethan asked.

“Don’t,” Ben replied.

“What’s the tickle monster?” I asked hoping to encourage Ethan into tickling Ben more.  I thought it almost worked as Ethan gave him one more brush of his fingers causing Ben to laugh a little.  I paused the game and stared at them.  They seemed to share some kind of mutual thought and I readied myself to enjoy the show.  But then they both looked to me.

“You don’t know what the tickle monster is?” Ethan asked.

“Maybe he needs to pay a visit,” Ben added.

I shook my head and started to slide away from them.  I put my hands up in a defendable surrender as I looked from one set of eyes to the other.  They were going to do, I knew it, I could feel it.  My choices were to either take it or start running.  Ethan moved first as he put one foot down, I started to get up, almost turned away when he grabbed at me.  His arms around mine he had me in a pretty good hold and it didn’t take long for Ben to get in front of me.

Together they pushed and pulled me back to the couch where I landed on Ethan as he got his arms under mine and pulled me into a half-nelson to expose my aides and arm pits.  Ben touched under my arms first, then began to move up and down my sides until he found a sensitive spot.  At first he could only get a small laugh from me but as I relaxed under his ministrations new areas became sensitive and he went after those as well until I he had me begging for him to stop as I howled and giggled.  I tried to stop him by raising my knees to my chest but that made my feet vulnerable which he quickly attacked.  He took hold of my ankle with one hand, then rubbed at the bottom of my foot with his other hand.  It was barely effective until he pulled off my sock.  I writhed and bucked against Ethan but he held me tight.  It was all fun and games until I realized the whole thing had changed the way my organs worked and I had to pee.

“Stop,” I tried to say.  “Please, stop, I have to pee.”

Ben held my ankle as he looked me in the eye, the fingers of his other hand barely touched my sensitive skin.  He had a mischievous grin.

“Do you give?” he asked.

“What?” I asked.

“Do you give?"

"Yes, yes, I give, I give,” I said.

“Does it hurt real bad?”

“Yes,” I said.

“How much more do you think you could take?”

“Please, don’t, I give up,” I said.

He touched at the bottom of my foot lightly and I tried to pull it from his grip.  Instead I got kind of sideways at an angle to him so that my foot was in front of his stomach.  He touched again and I laughed a little.  He was enjoying having me at his mercy and I started to not like it.  Mr. Grant could make me feel like that and it would be fine because I knew I was safe but him, someone who was a friend.  I turned a little as I thought of an escape plan, one good kick and I could get him out of my face.  He let go of my ankle and I felt Ethan relax his hold.

My elbows fell down to my sides.  It was almost over, but then he did it, he went for one last tickle, a teasing gesture of just how close I had gotten, and instead I kicked him right in the stomach.  He went back with more force than I had imagine, hit the corner of the coffee table with the back of his leg, tripped, and fell right into a standing lamp causing it to fall sideways.  I felt like I was watching it in slow motion as it fell over, the glass hit the wood flooring and it broke instantly with a crash I was sure could be heard throughout the house.

“Oh shit,” I said.  “Are you okay?”

Ben looked over himself then to the lamp.

“I’m better than the lamp is,” he replied.

I sat up from Ethan, my hands went to the sides of my head.  Was it possible Mr. Grant hadn’t heard anything?  Maybe he was working with his headphones on and with the door closed he didn’t, I thought.  What am I going to do now?  Ethan sat up next to me and looked to the broken glass and let out a moan.  There was a long enough pause that we each began to relax, we were about to act, about to cover it up, and then the office door opened.  It was Mr. Grant.  He had heard.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Shit,” Ben said.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“You’re being awful quiet for nothing.  Shane get your ass in here.”

I jumped to my feet and looked back and forth between Ethan and Ben.  Neither of them moved.  They were waiting for me to do something.  I started to walk but only made a few steps past Ethan when I stopped and looked back to them.  They knew what was about to happen.  I knew what was about to happen.  They didn’t have to be here for it though, I thought.  I swallowed hard before I spoke. 

“Why don’t you guys take off?  I’ll go take it and give you guys a call when I can.  Maybe in a day or two.  It was my fault so don’t worry about paying for it.”

Ben and Ethan looked to each other, waiting for someone to speak.  I just turned away from them and headed to the office.  I shuffled my feet in the hallway, paused at the open door, then pushed my way inside to find Mr. Grant back behind his desk with a serious look on his face.  I stopped just short of the edge of the desk, looked down to the floor as my hands went behind my back to grip at each other.

“What happened?” he asked.

“We broke the lamp,” I said.

“Look up at me.”

I raised my head but my eyes couldn’t go to his eyes or even his face so I settled on his chest.  His tie was loose and the first button of his shirt was undone.  I could see a bit of the familiar chest hair I appreciated as we lay in bed.

“What happened?” he asked again snapping me from my reverie.

“I kicked Ben into the lamp to get him to stop tickling me and it broke.”

“And where are they now?”

“They’re leaving,” I said.

That’s when I heard the squeak of the door and turned to see Ethan and Ben both pushing it open before they stepped inside.  They were still dressed, or in this case undressed, as they had been.  Ben’s skin was pink with embarrassment and Ethan barely looked any better.

“Is that what happened?” Mr. Grant asked.

“Yes sir,” they replied at the same time.

“Do you all think you should be punished?”

“Yes sir,” they said.

“Yes sir,” I added just moments after them.

“And do you agree to take the punishment I decide?”

“Yes sir,” we said.

Wanderlust- Working Hard (short story)

March 17, 2016

Preorder $2.99

Sequel to Down by the Swimming Hole

After we composed ourselves, Brad did before me, we went down to the barn.  The guys we passed laughed a little, pointed at us, made comments to each other but didn’t address us directly.  It was as if they knew what had happened, knew why we were there.  We worked for several hours at that usual chore of moving a wheel barrow down the aisle and cleaning out the shit with pitch forks.  I could see the sweat on Brad’s back.  My own body was quickly covered as well.  His underwear became transparent so I knew mine had done the same.  If I watched him too closely, the way his muscles moved, especially as he moved the wheel barrow, I got too excited. 

My ass hurt the entire time so I know his did as well.  There was a continued throb broken only by the movement of skin when I changed positions.  When the back of my underwear clung to my ass and I could feel it between my cheeks I knew anyone could see every detail as if I were naked but as useless as they were I couldn’t bring myself to take them off.  Even if they were transparent, I reasoned, at least they kept my dick and balls from swinging around so there was at least that.

Rocko checked on us a few times, a few other guys did as well.  Rocko only nodded to us but the other guys laughed a little at our predicament.  It seemed like every farm hand got a peek.  I thought the first couple were perverts just looking for a cheap thrill but as more came by I reasoned that it was more about our embarrassment, our humiliation.  Here I was the owner’s son brought low by one of their own.  I had to grin and bear it because I was afraid to run to my father, or even to my mother.  We had pulled a terrible prank on Rocko and we were getting what we deserved.

It took several hours for us to clean every stall, by the time we finished it was getting dark and the other guys had already started to bring in the horses.  I couldn’t look them in the eye when I passed them, just kept my head low.  When we were done and had everything back in place we stopped in the doorway.  Brad leaned against the wall to roll a cigarette.  I couldn’t help but notice his flat stomach, the way his muscles flexed as he breathed, the band of his briefs and his bulge.  He offered me a hit but I refused it.  I just wanted to go to bed, maybe steal a few drinks.  Just before I started to move he spoke. 

“Today was pretty bad,” he said.

“I just want it to be over,” I replied.

“We could do that,” he said, “or we could do something else.”

“What else?”

“It’s getting pretty dark and sometimes I go up to the top of the barn and lay out under the stars naked.  It’s kind of nice.”

“You do not,” I said.

He nodded to me before signaling for me to follow him.  I almost refused but somehow up on the barn under the stars in my underwear or going to bed, possibly passing my father, under the stars sounded better.  We made our way up to the roof unnoticed by anyone, crawled along the narrow top to a flat spot where we could lay side by side.  I watched as he rolled onto his back but I could barely see him there, except for those briefs that picked up a some light.  I did the same next to him.

The roof was hot.  It burned into my skin but in an almost pleasant way.  Conscientiously I put my hands on my stomach, made sure my feet were together, no part of me touched him, not even a little.  Within minutes he was asleep.  I looked up to the stars, picked them out one at a time trying to make the shapes they taught us in high school, but I could barely remember them.  Eventually I closed my eyes and fell asleep as well.

We woke when the air turned cold.  It was a slow awakening as we took in our surroundings, tried to comprehend our situation.  He scratched at his head and I felt itchy as well so I did the same.  We hadn’t bathed since working in the barn, I thought, we must be disgusting.  He scratched at his balls as he got to his knees, pulled the front of his underwear out a little and really went at it, but his scratching became rubbing.  I looked away to the stars trying to not think of my own dick.

“That was some day,” he said.  “What time do you think it is?”

I shrugged my shoulders and told him I didn’t know.

“I’d say it’s anywhere from two in the morning to four.  It usually gets cold between then but I can’t say for sure.  I felt like I slept all night.”

He stopped moving his hand and just kept it there cradling his cock and balls as if just the pressure felt good.

“Me too,” I replied.

“Do you think he’s going to hold a grudge against us?”

I hadn’t really thought about it.  He didn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge.  No, I thought, he had dealt his justice, my father on the other hand was something else.  I wasn’t sure what my father would do.

“I don’t think so,” I said.  “He got us pretty good, a spanking and mucking out the stalls in our underwear.  We’re not little boys.”

“That’s true.  Everything will probably be back to normal tomorrow.”

“Right,” I said.

“Well, almost everything, I’m sure the guys will have something to say about it.”

He scratched at his chest lazily with his other hand before he raised his elbow and sniffed at his armpit.  He let out a disgusted groan.  It was exciting to watch him and I felt my dick reacting a little.  I was unsure if he could make it out in the moonlight but I didn’t want to take the chance so I decided to keep him talking.

“Are you going to hold a grudge?” I asked.

“No, it’s over I guess.  As long as nothing else happens then I won’t do anything.  At least you can go home though, I have to bunk with the rest of the guys.”

“It was a prank that got out of control,” I said.

“Of course,” he said.

My brain was empty.  I couldn’t think of anything else.  Well my father but I didn’t want to think about that.  What else?

“I saw the way you were looking at him,” Brad said.

My body stiffened at the accusation, my face and ears warmed, but other parts of my body felt cooler.  I wanted to strike out at him, just one blow and I could send him off the building, but I stopped myself.  Instead I looked to him for some kind of response but he barely moved.  He just sat there on his knees with his hand under his briefs.

“It’s okay you know, I mean he might not appreciate it, but I won’t tell on you.  I’ve met guys like you before in the bars.  Sometimes they hit on me.  It’s kind of flattering.”

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve even fucked a couple of them.”

“What?”

“I know how it’s done.  I’ve done it.  I’m pretty good actually.”

“It didn’t mean anything.  Guys look at each other all of the time.  It’s natural.”

He shifted a little and got to his feet.  I looked up over his legs, past his crotch, to his stomach, muscled chest, and the silhouette of his head.  As he shifted a little I thought I could make out his dick.  When he pulled his hand out of his underwear I could definitely see it.

“I’m just saying.  I’ve done it but I’m not like that.  I’m not gay.”

“What?” I asked.

“Things happen between guys.  It’s natural for a guy like Rocko.  He’s attractive.  We don’t like to think about it that way but it’s true.  He’s kind of intimidating that way.”

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” I said.

“Okay, but just don’t sweat it.  It’s easy to be jealous, especially when you’re young.  You don’t have a lot of experience but I’ve seen and done it all.”

“Please,” I said.  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Right,” he replied.  “Are you going to try and sneak into the house like you are or do you want to get cleaned up first?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Follow me,” he replied. 

It wasn’t a suggestion so much as an order, an order I thought about refusing, yet it had a certain kind of logic to it.  I didn’t want to sneak into the house as dirty as I was, certainly not get into bed.  He started to walk along the narrow roof.  Once his back was to me and I felt comfortable he wouldn’t look back I got up to my feet and followed him.  He paused for a moment to look at the moon when he got to the ladder before he climbed down into the barn.  I looked into the partially lit area certain that he would see every detail as I climbed down.  I would be vulnerable and I regretted that I got a little excited about the idea.  But I knew he wasn’t going to move on without me so I just did it.  I forced myself to climb down into the barn.

I was happy to see he had already moved on so I followed after him again, turned off the light as I passed the switch.  We climbed down into the lower part of the barn where the stalls were.  The lights were already off, a little moonlight came in through the windows.  The loudest sounds were those of the horses chewing hay and knocking against the walls with their hooves as they flexed.  It almost felt like the early mornings, yet it wasn’t the same.  We weren’t early.  We were out late.  I was lost in thought when Brad swatted me on the ass playfully and motioned for me to follow him.  He pulled open the main door, waited for me to pass, then closed it.

The darkness of the barn had been comforting, let me forget my state of undress, but outside in front of the barn we were under a pale light.  I realized then just how silly we looked in our boots and underwear.  Silly and yet somehow practical, I thought.  He rolled a cigarette, then led me around the side to a hose we kept there for washing down the horses.  It had a spray nozzle.

“Take off your underwear,” he said.

I froze as I looked to him.  As silly as I felt I still didn’t want to take off my underwear.  I could barely make him out in the darkness, mostly the cherry of his cigarette, but I knew the light was behind me so he at least could see my silhouette.  I shifted a little before I shook my head.

“Come on, hurry up, I’m getting tired.”

He’s just being practical, I thought.  I wanted to get clean but didn’t want him to be the one spraying me.  I decided to refuse and let him do whatever he wanted to do for himself, then afterwards I’d spray myself off.

“We don’t have all night,” he said.

“Just do yourself,” I replied.

“Whatever,” he said before he started to walk past me.

I watched him drag the hose to the front of the barn, under the main light.  There he took off his boots and underwear, set them on a dry rock.  I couldn’t move.  I wanted to look away but I was transfixed.  He started with his hair, moved down his neck, over his chest.  He cleaned his arm pits thoroughly, his arms, then moved back to his abs, down to his crotch, his thighs, knees, shins, and ankles.  After he washed his feet he moved up the backside to get every last spot. 

As he twisted his dick stuck out from him as water dripped off the end.  His pubic hair was matted down.  He sprayed over his ass cheeks before he squatted down a little to spray the water up at his hole.  He let out a moan of surprise as he almost dropped the sprayer, then laughed at himself before he went back at it with more determination.  His jaw clenched tight he sprayed himself for a long time between his hole and his balls before he suddenly stopped and stood up completely. 

My own dick was hard and straining in my underwear from the sight of what he had just done.  I thought it being my own tongue not the hose at his taint, sneaking between his cheeks.  If the front of my underwear wasn’t noticeably wet I thought they would be soon.  He looked to me and I almost retreated into the shadows but he motioned for me to step closer.  I hesitated before I stepped forward a little, more into the light I was sure he could see my erection, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Instead he offered me the sprayer which I took carefully, not wanting even our fingers to touch because I was sure if they did it would send a signal through my body, cause me to freak out and run away.  The sprayer in my hand he turned away from me and asked me to spray his back.  I could feel the water run down over my hand and I knew it was cold, really cold.  I shook my head in disbelief that someone would subject themselves to it but I went ahead anyway, hit him in the middle of the back causing him to whoop and swear as he readied himself.  I sprayed every inch slowly until he could take no more, then told me to stop. 

I thought it was over but he turned to me and looked down to his crotch.  I looked to it as well to see his erection had gone down.  Even cold and soft it was still pretty big, maybe bigger than my own.  We both stared for a long time.  It felt like a moment of bonding until he grinned at me and looked to my crotch where I still had an erection.  He motioned for me to hand over the sprayer.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“Looks like you need to be cooled down,” he said.

I looked away from him to the rest of the farm, looked for any sign of someone watching us.  There was no one else.  They were all asleep.  It was just the two of us.  It was just me and him.  His naked body, me in my underwear and boots, and a hose.  As strange as it was I felt more willing to be sprayed down.  I handed it over, stepped away to where he put his boots and slid mine off as well before taking off my underwear.  I covered my crotch with my hands and walked back to him. 

“Okay, let’s have it,” I said with my covered by both hands.

He sprayed me in the chest, moved down to my abs, then to my crotch where I took away my hands.  He sprayed my dick until it shrunk, then moved back up.  He told me to start washing myself so I did.  I washed each place he hit me with water for as long as he sprayed it there.  My arm pits, my hair, my chest, and crotch were all easy enough, right down to my toes, but that’s when he told me to turn around.  He moved back up over my body, over my ass, the small of my back to my shoulders and for a moment I thought I had gotten out of something.  I was ready to call it a night.

“Bend over and spread those cheeks boy,” he said.

There was humor in his voice and yet that command was so undignified, so blunt that I almost refused, but as he kept spraying me with the cold water I felt like I just had to get it over with so I did it.  I bent over, reached back, and spread my ass cheeks.  The water hit the insides of my cheeks first before really getting into my ass as hitting my hole.  I heard him step closer and the water got harder.  It felt like it was really getting in there and for a moment it felt really good until I realized just how cold it was and just how exposed I was to him, to anyone.  I let go, stood up, and stepped away from him before I turned to him.  He held the sprayer with one hand and his dick in the other as he slowly jerked it. 

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said.  “There’s nothing to be scared of, it’s just me.  I can show you how to have fun.  It’s easy.  I promise it won’t hurt.”

I gulped.  His hand continued to move and I watched him.  He set the hose down and walked to me, got close.  He asked if he could touch me and I told him he could.  He reached out with his other hand and took hold of my dick.  He stroked it a few times.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

I felt a renewed warmth in my crotch that moved from my dick into the rest of my body.  It pulsed through me in expanding and greater strength until it reached my lips.  He moved to kiss me and I let him.  His lips felt like foreign objects.  My lips did too, foreign and yet a part of me.  It felt like he was kissing me with electric lips as I felt the shocks travel through me right to my stomach, to my dick.  His tongue slipped into my mouth, a warm, wet invader that felt like it would fill my mouth and cause me to suffocate until I started to kiss back.  His hands left our dicks and went to my shoulders, down to my arms.  His fingertips pressed into my skin as we continued to kiss. 

I felt like I had won the jackpot.  I wanted it all right there and right then.  I had to have it.  I had to get off.  And I didn’t care who saw me.  I pulled away from his kiss ready to do anything and everything when he stopped me and told me we should go somewhere else.  We looked around to make sure no one was going to stop us before he retrieved our boots and underwear and went back into the barn. 

Our hard dicks stuck out from us as we ran.  It was funny to see him run with a hard on and it felt silly to be doing it.  We got back inside easily, climbed up into the hay loft.  I was wary of the rungs of the ladder.  He opened the loft door partially to let in some light before we went back at each other.  He was aggressive as he took hold of me, pushed me to the pile of hay.  I fell onto my back and it felt like a million needles going into my skin but I tried to not let it bother me. 

He pulled his lips from mine, a string of spit fell down over my chin as he moved to my neck where he bit and sucked at the skin.  His hands ran along my arms to my wrists where he playfully pinned them for a moment as I felt his teeth move down my chest to my nipple.  He bit it softly before using his tongue to circle the tip, one then the other.  His wet lips moved down my stomach to my crotch, through my pubic hair to my hard dick.  He licked at the base and it felt like two parts of me as the head swelled.

It was possibly the hardest I had ever been.  His tongue left a trail of spit down to my balls.  He licked and sucked at them.  He took one in his mouth as I felt his fingers on my knees, then up my thighs, down under them he raised my legs, got a good hold at the backs of my knees and pushed my feet high into the air as he moved down over my taint with his tongue, a string of nerves that fired off one at a time until he got to my hole where he pressed into my flesh, worked into me.  I reached for my own dick, the sensitive head slipped through my fingers as it was covered in ejaculate. 

The pleasure of the feeling of him rimming me made me writhe on the hay, a million new needles into my flesh I rolled my head into my back as I grunted.  I could feel the sweat in the small of my back, the ache of my thighs, my hard dick as I rubbed the shaft carefully, and the bulbous end of my dick that felt so full and hot.  He sucked and tickled me with his tongue, each moment of pressure giving me a suggestion of what it would feel like to have him inside me.  He let go of my legs so I strained to keep them in the air as he moved his hands down to my ass.  His fingers pressed into my wet opening, forced me, pulled at me, until I thought he had split me in two. 

A sensation of pleasure ran through me that cause me to grunt and moan.  I realized I was holding my breath and forced myself to breath, in then out.  His fingers rubbed at me, pushed into me, pulled at me as his tongue got deeper.  He was getting me ready, prepping me and I wanted it.  I wanted him.

When he pulled his tongue out, ran it up with his fingers over my body I knew it was time as I felt his dick pushed against my hole.  His hands found their way up my sides, his tongue ran over my stomach until it reached the middle of my chest where he kissed and bit.  He reached for my wrists and I let him take them as I felt him maneuver into me, press into me.  He had me under the full weight of his body as I felt it slowly going inside all of the way to the base.  His balls tickled at my ass for a moment before he pulled back out, then pushed back into me, each time I could feel all the parts of my body as if they were separate yet just as powerful. 

After a few strokes he began to work me faster and harder as he bit into my skin his fingers got tighter around my wrists.  I turned my head to look at him, a bit of straw stuck in my hair.  He grunted as he battered at me, sweat covered his body in a thin sheen.  I could smell him, myself, the ejaculate.  My hard dick rubbed up against my abs as he bent me into position.  I heard the slap of skin against skin as I felt him there going faster and faster, deep inside of me I felt a new sensation that was like a tickle, a kind of pleasant shock that made me think for a moment I was going to piss myself.  It was the type of pleasure that felt like it was going to overwhelm me as it spread through my body.  I tried to reach for my dick to finish myself off but he just held my wrists as he continued to pump.  His eyes were closed, head turned away slightly with his warm cheek pressed against my pectoral muscle.  He groaned and pushed against me, pulled at my wrists for a long moment before he let go with his head still resting on me, his body went limp, pressed down onto my dick.  It was the only touch I needed as I felt an orgasm better than any other I could have given myself. 

Ejaculate pushed out of my dick into the crevice between our warm bodies.  He gave a little laugh before he pushed himself up from me.  He pulled himself from me.  I felt him slide out, followed by his ooze.  He steadied himself before he moved beside me and sat next to me.  I reached down to my hole.  It felt open and pulsing in a way that I had never known could happen and I felt his ejaculate there running out of me.  I touched some of it, pushed my finger around in the soft skin to get any last sensation, then fell onto my back.  My slime covered dick began began to soften as I felt it laying against my warm thigh.  He touched my stomach, ran his fingers through the puddle of goo, moved it around, and began to laugh. 

Every muscle in my body was strained.  I didn’t feel like I could walk.  I didn’t feel like I could sit up.  I was happy.  I was exhausted.  My skin felt hard and dry from being in the sun, my muscles ached from working and then having sex, and he was still there, beside me, touching my chest.  I thought it was over.  I thought it would never happen again and I was afraid of going to sleep then seeing him the next day.  But then he lay down beside me on his side, his hand went to my dick as he moved his face to mine.  He pressed his lips to mine, his tongue into my mouth.  We kissed for a few moments before he pulled away.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said.

“I promise I won’t,” I replied.

“But we can still have more fun,” he said.

“What are you thinking,” I asked.

“You and me, out on the range...”

I laughed a little.

“Not literally, but we could do it.  Go out and sack up together, bring a dog and a few horses.  No one has to know.”

I sighed as I put my hand over his as he teased my dick.  I thought he was just another Casanova Cowboy and now he wanted to do it again.  Was it the promise of some relationship or just another bit of fun?

Wanderlust- Down by the Swimming Hole

After our chores there was enough help around that work was light, so when two of the farm hands Rocko and Brad wanted to take the horses for a ride I decided to join them.  It was easy enough being the son of the ranch owner to not worry about if the other guys thought I wasn’t doing my work.  Rocko rarely took a moment for himself when there was something to be done.  He didn’t just tell the guys to do something.  He was the first one to do it.  Brad on the other hand was a bit lazy, but his good nature and sense of humor kept the other guys on his side.

It was just after breakfast that we got everything together, our horses, the saddles, a rifle, and a few supplies for lunch.  When you start just as the sun is coming up the morning can seem long.  There were a few times I snuck off to some part of the field or a corner of the barn where no one would see me and took a nap, but heading off with them felt like the beginning of an adventure. 

I was headed off to college at the end of the summer so I wasn’t too worried about consequences.  Anything I did I felt could be forgotten or patched over.  When I came home on break it would all be new to me.  It would be like a new kid moving into the neighborhood, especially since many of the men would be gone or new by then. I felt good about what we were doing.  We probably wouldn’t even be noticed. 

With Rocko in the lead I knew he could handle himself in any situation.  I felt braver with him just being there.  He was the kind of guy that if he asked you to come along you knew he could get you out of something bad.  I had heard stories of him clearing out bars, pushing around cows, and taming stallions.  His hands were rough from handling bails of hay and repairing machinery.  I once saw him carry an engine across the garage to a table so he could get better lighting.  He was broad shouldered and muscled.  At over six feet tall he towered over most people, especially me with my wiry, youthful build.  I guessed him for being in his thirties but didn’t know his age for certain except that he was older than Brad who was much more like myself.

Except he dressed better than me when he wasn’t working as I always inherited my older brothers’ clothes.  He liked new, stylish shirts and blue jeans, kept a hat and a pair of boots in an old trunk that were only for impressing the ladies when he went out drinking.  His only vice was cigarettes that he rolled himself.  He talked about fights and mischief but it never sounded like he actually did it.  He knew a joke, knew a few stories, but didn’t get caught.  He was quite the sight that morning as we rode along behind Rocko on the trail through the woods, not dressed in his best but definitely his cleanest clothes, a flannel shirt tucked into a tight pair of jeans.  He had this beautiful triangle shape to his back. 

Yeah, I had a little crush on him.  I knew it.  Rocko too maybe, but he seemed so unattainable, like he could brush me off without noticing me.  At least with Brad it’d be fair, you know.  It was like if I said the wrong thing to him or he caught on to how I felt it wouldn’t be a problem, at least he couldn’t make it one.  But I kept those feelings deep inside, locked behind a door somewhere. 

We rode along at a quiet, slow pace.  The trees stuck up all around us were covered in leaves so we kept a watch for deer or other animals that might spook the horses.  The worst was a loose dog because they might try to chase you.  A deer or some other wild animal might dash in front or else run from some hiding spot but the dog, well the dog would come right at you.  That was most of the reason why we brought the gun. 

My father owned over two thousand acres, much of it woods, so we could go a lot of places, travel around it for a long time, before we got close to another farm or someone else’s land.  A lot of it was familiar to me so when we started down a trail I recognized that led to a pond I started to get excited.  I had often slipped off to it alone and swam there naked.  Sometimes the farm hands went there after a long day to bathe, though I never saw it, but I heard them talking about it.  Just little jokes and stories about how they’d wrestle with each other or dunk someone in the water, especially the new guys.

As we rode it wasn’t just the idea of swimming there myself but being with them that got me excited.  I could feel myself getting an erection at the notion of it.  I let that fantasy play out for a while until my dick strained against my jeans and underwear and it hurt, then I thought about something else because the closer we got the less likely it seemed, the less I wanted it.  They’d see me too.  They’d know.  I buried that thought deep as I stretched my neck and tried to rattle some other thoughts into my head, but there was little else to think about as we rode. 

It was monotonous with the sound of the hooves and birds.  Neither of them were talking and there was little for me to say.  I had learned when I was young that male bonding wasn’t about saying anything but about the quiet time spent together.  We bounced and swayed with the rhythm of the horses.  Rocko sipped from a flask.  Brad rolled himself a cigarette.  I watched them do it all so casually that I was worried if I tried the same things I’d drop it then have to stop everyone to get off my horse and pick up whatever it was, fighting with my horse the whole time.  So I didn’t try any of that.  I just rode along.

Before getting to the pond Rocko took a short path that led to a campsite nearby on an embankment.  It was used regularly so there were a few logs in a circle that rarely got moved and in the middle was an old ash pit.  I had only been out there when it was being used a few times the summer before when my father thought I was old enough to be around the men.  He let me have a few sips of the moonshine and a beer before we left them.  He said a boss has to keep his distance from the workers because they might start thinking of him as their equal.  I really think it was because my mother didn’t want us coming home drunk.

Rocko led us into the middle of the circle near the ash pit, then stopped and surveyed the shadows.  I moved up beside him as if I had an equal opinion while Brad lingered on the side to roll another cigarette.  I did my best to imitate him, pretend like I knew what he was thinking.  He could have just as easily rode off and I would have followed him, but he didn’t. 

Instead he dismounted and led his horse into a shadow where he tied it to a tree.  I followed him to nearly the same area to do the same thing but he directed me to a better place.  Brad seemed to know what he was doing, or else Rocko didn’t really care about his horse, knowing that if it got sick it would be Brad’s responsibility.  We walked back to the ash pit and stared at the charred remains for long enough that Brad finished smoking and threw the butt into it.  By adding something new I felt like it ruined the moment but started us in a new path towards the pond. 

We walked down narrow, uneven path directly to the water that was ringed with trees and a mud beach.  At the far end was cattails and other greens that grew out of the water and onto the land.  There was a splash of a fish that made us all laugh and look around at each other for a moment.  Rocko put his hands on his hips so I did the same.  Brad stuck his hands in his pockets.  It felt significant just to be there away from the ranch and everyone else so when Brad took off his boots, then rolled up his jeans it felt like some tether that linked us all the way back through the woods had broken.  It was just the three of us ready and willing to do as we pleased.

He set the boots in a dry area before he walked down to the pond where he slowly entered until it was just over his ankles.  Rocko shook his head so I rolled my eyes.  I wanted to strip off my clothes and jump right into the water but I stopped myself with every ounce of self-control I had left.  I tried to make myself content and it almost worked until Brad looked back to me and signaled that I should join him.  I looked to Rocko who shrugged his shoulders, then down to my boots that were getting muddy.  It was foolish to stand there, I thought, so I headed over to where Brad put his boots and started to take mine off.  They were a little awkward so I sat.

“Thinking about going for a swim?” Rocko asked.

“Just taking off my boots,” I responded. 

My voice cracked a little as we hadn’t talked the entire ride out and I barely said anything that morning.  There was so little to be said on a farm when everyone knew what they should be doing and what everyone else had to do.  I cleared my throat to try and get my voice back, get some kind of masculinity.

“Why not do it right?” Rocko asked.

“What do you mean?” I responded.

That was when he started to unbutton his shirt from the collar, worked his fingers down the front where he unbuckled his belt, pulled the ends out and undid them too.  He stepped out of the mud and moved to a grassy area with his back partially to me where he pulled off his boots.  The full length of his thigh and buttocks visible to me I watched as they flexed and tried to imagine what they might look like naked.  He opened his jeans, dropped the shirt from his shoulders to his elbows, then onto the ground.  I could see the muscles in his back, lean hips that didn’t have an ounce of fat, and pale skin.  No underwear, just skin, the only ivory part of his body that hadn’t been touched by the sun.  He pulled his jeans down and I could see the full crack of his ass, the tan line just above his knees.  I was hard just at the sight of him.  I bit my lip to make sure my jaw wasn’t hanging loose and I wasn’t drooling.  Rocko stretched his arms up to the sky and that’s when I noticed Brad was looking at me as I watched Rocko so I looked away to the top of the water, then to Brad who only smirked.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched Rocko step into the water, unable to really see any detail like the size of his dick or his balls.  He got waist deep before I decided it was okay to look back at him.  He ran his hands through the water, splashed it a little.  Brad let out a laugh as he made his way to where he put his boots as he stripped out of his clothes.  I looked up to him as he stood next to me.  He looked down into my eyes as he undid the last of his shirt.  He dropped it beside his boots, then pulled off his undershirt.  He smiled at me and I winced.

When his hands went to his belt buckle I looked away but I could still see him out of the corner of my eye.  It was like he was enjoying it.  Not being watched but teasing me with something he knew, something he saw me doing, and something I wanted.  He stepped out of his jeans, dropped them on his shirt, then pulled off his underwear and dropped them in my lap.  They fell right down in front of my face and partially into my hands.  That made me jump and yell as I threw them aside towards the rest of his clothes.  He laughed a little and Rocko looked back to us but he dismissed any trouble as he walked to the pond.  I looked up to Brad, saw his partially tanned skin from working in the fields and the much smaller patch of white, unblemished ass.  He ran his hands over his stomach, tugged at his dick a little, then looked back to me over his shoulder.

I looked away to my boots that I had yet to get off.  My hard dick betrayed my conscience as it felt like a warning or some kind of alarm that I was a pervert.  It might as well have been ten feet tall and stuck out from me for everyone to see.  I stopped trying to get my boots off and tucked my feet back against my thighs, kept my knees close together as I watched the two of them approach each other.  They seemed to be enjoying themselves and I wanted so desperately to join them.  I wanted to be out there feeling the water on every part of my body, maybe it was cool enough to calm me down.  Though I felt like I could have dipped my cock in a bucket of ice water and it wouldn’t have helped.  Somehow the thought occurred to me that I should have been first and then I wouldn’t have been in the situation I was in by having them out there naked in the water and me on land trapped in my clothes by my own dick.

They splashed water at each other, swam from shore to shore, and dove in the deepest parts.  It took a while for my erection to deflate.  When it did I slid out of my boots, got to my feet and quickly stripped off my clothes until I was down to my underwear.  Like Brad I also wore white briefs and I felt a little foolish standing there with my back to them, but I made sure to grab at my crotch a little before pulling them down and stepping out of them.  I made sure there was no slime in my pubes before I turned to the water and walked to it.  I wasn’t ashamed of my limp dick, not really.  I wasn’t hung like a horse but there was nothing to feel guilty about because I had very little to do with its size.  I walked into the water with barely an acknowledgement from them.  Finally when I was up to my shoulders they swam over to me.

“Glad you could join us,” Brad said.

“Hey, let’s race,” Rocko added.

I wasn’t a good swimmer, could barely do a breast stroke, but I wasn’t sure how good they were so I agreed.  Rocko swam away from us and we followed him to the shore where he climbed out.  I got a full view of his ass and balls as he did, then it was my turn so I followed after him knowing Brad got a full view of me.  Brad was right after me to the point that if I stopped suddenly he would have run into me so I made sure I was out of his way before facing the water.  Almost hip to hip we stood next to each other looking at the other shore.  The sun beat down on our bodies.  There was the smell of grass and flowers in the air and I could hear birds chirping. 

“On the count of three,” Rocko said.

He counted for us and just as I was about to jump when Brad stopped me by pulling on my arm.  I turned on him unsure what he was doing.  He grinned at me, then signaled for me to follow him.  I looked to Rocko who was a fourth of the way there.  It was too late to try and catch up with him.  Brad pulled on my hand so I started moving.  He led me to where we started and our clothes lay in three different piles. 

“Come on, let’s grab our clothes,” he said.

“I don’t know,” I said. 

I looked to where Rocko was halfway across the pond, swimming hard to win a competition that neither of us had even tried.  I could feel droplets of water on my body, in the middle of my back, down over my buttocks, my thighs and my crotch.  Brad was quick to grab up his own clothes before moving to Rocko’s.  Part of my back and stomach clenched at what he was doing.  I moved to grab my own clothes.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Come on it will be funny,” he said.

I knew we were doing something wrong.  It felt like I was pushing through some kind of barrier in space and time and like I was ripping apart some kind of connection with Rocko at the same time.  But I couldn’t stop myself.  I couldn’t stop Brad.  It all just felt so dangerous.  It would be nice to see Rocko humiliated, bring him down a peg.  He had never been mean to me but he had always been strict with the other guys, so in charge and full of himself.

“Hurry up and leave his boots,” I said.

He tossed Rocko’s shirt at me.  I let out a laugh and looked back to where Rocko was climbing out of the water.  He shook off, wiped at his body, and looked back for us.  Brad already started up the trail.  Rocko looked up to me and I just started running.  I felt ridiculous with my clothes in my hands as I charged up the uneven path but I didn’t miss a step despite my balls and dick slapping against my thighs.  By the time I got up there Brad had already made it onto his horse.  I went to mine, stuck my clothes and Rocko’s shirt in my bag, then climbed up.  It was strange on the saddle without wearing anything, the feel of the hard leather against my balls and my dick off to one side.  We rode away slowly at first, but panic set in not far down the trail so we started going faster until Brad stopped his horse and I pulled up along side of him.

“We’ll never out run him back to the farm, let’s take another path, even if we get back after him we’ll still have his clothes.”

“Okay,” I said.  “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Which way?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment before I pointed out a path and led the way.  He followed after me and just before we turned a corner I looked back.  When I didn’t see Rocko right behind us I felt relieved.  I wasn’t sure if he expected us to return or maybe he didn’t really care.  I just kept riding.  There was no point in looking back, I thought, besides it was nice to see Brad’s body as he rode.  Whatever trouble this would cost me wouldn’t last long because I’m off to college, I thought.

We took a circular path back to the ranch, stopped at secluded spot to get dressed, then headed to the main barns.  My clothes were slightly damp from not drying off with a towel but it was nice to be home.  We laughed to each other as we went to the barn to return our horses.  We made sure to set Rocko’s clothes in a clean area before taking off the saddles and stabling them, giving them hay as well.  As we walked out of the barn, that’s when I started to feel guilty.  I almost went back to get my horse, saddle up, and go out to find Rocko.  If he wasn’t at the pond then he had to be on his way back, maybe I could minimize his humiliation and avoid any kind of punishment. 

Brad didn’t stop.  He didn’t even seem to look back as he walked to the main house.  He was happy, pleased, with what we had done.  He asked me to get him a beer as he sat on the steps with Rocko’s jeans in his lap.  I tossed the shirt next to him and went to get us a beer each.  No one seemed to be around, the house was mostly empty except for my mother who was in the kitchen cooking.  I said hello to her before I got two beers, took off the caps, and went back to where Brad sat.  He had rolled himself a cigarette and stuck it between his lips.  I sat next to him and asked for a puff.

We passed it back and forth until it was almost down to the end.  That’s when we heard hoof steps and we looked to the line of pine trees to see Rocko on his horse as naked as the day he was born.  He rocked with the gate of the horse until he got to us and he stopped.  I could see his boots in the stirrups and laughed a little as I knew the rest of him was bare.  Brad let out a laugh as well, then stopped and nudged me on the shoulder and pointed up to the man we had pranked.  He looked down at us with the most serious face I had ever seen.  The muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms seemed larger than they had ever been.  He dismounted and stood next to his horse right in front of both of us.  His hands at his sides I could see everything.  His dick was limp, but thick and long.  His thighs were muscled and pale.  I followed the curves of his abs up past his belly button to his pectorals, then to his neck where I could see veins. 

“How’s it going?” Brad asked laughingly.

I thought all of the blood drained from my face, my jaw hung open as I looked into Rocko’s eyes.  There was no humor anymore.  We had done more than crossed a line.  He was angry.  We had wronged him.  He wanted justice.  He wanted revenge.  And he deserved to get it.  My body felt as if it had become disconnected as I sat there.  I knew I couldn’t do anything.  Brad might try to run but I wouldn’t.  He’d catch me or else tell my father and maybe, just maybe my father’s punishment would be worse.  All I could think was to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not good enough,” he said before he stepped to us and reached for our faces.  I thought he was going to slap us but instead he reached for an ear on each of us, took it in his strong fingers and bent it.  Brad was the first to make a noise.  He argued and struggled while I just whined.  Rocko was naked.  He should have been embarrassed, yet he was manhandling us like two small boys.  He pulled us into his arms, one around each of us, his hand went to our belt buckles that he unfastened easily.  He released me for a moment as he pulled Brad’s pants down around his ankles, then he did mine.  I thought for a moment he was going to strip us but he didn’t do that right away. 

Instead he turned back to Brad who began to struggle to get his pants back up, grabbed hold of the man, and dragged him to the porch steps.  My jeans around my ankles, my briefs in clear view of anyone who would look, I watched as Rocko took Brad over his lap and pinned him there.  Brad struggled for a moment, kicked his legs but there was nothing he could do.  His ass was on full display covered by a thin, white fabric that revealed the shape of each cheek.

“Don’t do this Rocko,” he ordered.

The first whack came down hard and firm causing a sound that echoed from the walls of the house, the roof of the porch, and out into the rest of the farm.  It was followed by a second and a third.  He twisted and tried to reach back.

“The game is over Rocko.  You made your point now turn me loose.”

Two more strikes broke his anger making him raise his hand to his mouth where he bit into it to try and stifle any sound of pain.  Rocko spanked him again, one cheek, then the other, back and forth until he had a rhythm.  Brad arched back a little, then gave up and let his body hang loose as Rocko continued to spank him. 

A breeze came through the trees, over the blades of grass, touched the hair on my thighs, my crotch, and my ass.  It went right through the thin, white cotton to my skin and I knew it was no protection against a spanking like the one Brad was getting, like I would be getting.  The elastic somehow felt tighter around my waist and just above my thighs.  I felt like I wasn’t wearing anything at all.  Brad began to cry.  His whimpers lingered in my brain as spit flew from his mouth.  I liked the noises he was making and it started to get me excited.  I could feel my dick beginning to stiffen, the shifting of my balls, so I closed my eyes to try and think of something else.  I hoped my shirt caused some kind of shadow so that Rocko didn’t see it.

“Please, I’m sorry.  We were just messing around.  You don’t have to do this.  I won’t do it again.  Please, just let me go.”

Rocko stopped so I opened my eyes to see Brad go limp over this strong man’s lap.  He looked defeated.  My ears burned as I knew I would be next unless I pulled up my pants to run.  I thought about it.  I could get away, just run, hide out for a while, then come back when it was forgotten.  I wished I was already at college, but I just couldn’t move.  I was frozen there. 

When Brad started to move I thought it was over but then Rocko held him there, grabbed hold of the back of the man’s underwear, pulled them down over his rosy ass.  I could see every shade, an uneven coloring that started in the center of his cheeks, ran out over the mounds of flesh.  That would be my butt, I thought.  Just how bad would it hurt?  The crack of his ass, the small of his back.  The muscles began to twitch and that’s when he really began to cry as if some pain had been locked there that released itself in one great break.  He was defeated.

“Please just let me up.  I’ve learned my lesson,” Brad pleaded.

Rocko shifted a little, helped Brad to his feet, then pulled him between his knees where he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders.  Brad just stood there as his shirt fell to the ground.  His red ass now on display to me I studied it carefully, noted the light amount of hair, the way each cheek quivered.  The band of his underwear tucked down under caused the material to have folds and wrinkles.  His thighs moved a little but I knew it was just to try and circulate that feeling of pain.  Rocko turned him and pointed to an area to his left for him to stand so he shuffled to it and stopped.

I looked from Brad’s ass to Rocko who sat seemingly contemplating me, or maybe he was just giving his hand a rest.  I shifted on my aching feet hoping he didn’t think I was going to try and run away.  He just stared at me.  The guilt building up in my stomach with each moment.  His knees were far apart, his limp dick hung down over his massive balls right in the middle of his thighs.  He had deep, black pubic hair.

He raised his hand, signaled with just one finger for me to step to him.  I started to shuffle my feet and I almost lost my balance.  It was all over.  I was going to do it.  I was going to be over his lap.  The tension rose up from the middle of my back into my chest, my lungs.  I started to cry as I made my way to him.  It was as if I could already feel his big hand coming down on my ass, the pain radiating out through my body.  It was an automatic reaction that I just did it, just went through with it.  He stopped me at his knee, took hold of my wrists, my arms, and pulled me down over his lap.

For a moment my feet left the ground, bound together by my jeans they felt useless until they came back down to touch the dirt by just the tips of my boots.  He positioned me carefully, pushed my shirt up my back until it was in my arm pits and I could feel it tight around my ribs.  I was his to do with as he pleased and all over some stupid prank, a joke that got out of control.  If only we had just stopped at the horses, given his clothes back, then we would all have had a laugh.  Or maybe, just maybe, if we hadn’t done it at all. 

The band of my underwear was tight, the cloth against my ass felt like it soaked up every drop of sweat.  Anyone, but especially Rocko could see the details of my ass.  I knew it would give no protection against his hand as I looked up to see Brad standing there out of the corner of my eye.  He just stared off into space with his hands at his sides for a long time before he reached back to rub at the skin.

“Hey, don’t rub it,” Rocko said.  “I want you to feel it for a long time.  I catch you rubbing your ass I’m going to take you back over my knee.”

It was the only warning Brad needed because he promptly put his hands back at his side and raised his head a little to show he could deal with it.  That was when the first strike happened and it caught me off guard.  I didn’t even register it until he raised his hand back in the air.  I wanted out.  Tears fell down from my cheeks onto the steps, my mouth open to breath deep.  I could feel the burn of my lips and ears.  I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand but a second spank made me regret the act.  I didn’t have time to prepare myself for the next three as he gave them to me in a rapid pace. 

The pain felt as if it was stuck to the very tops of my cheeks, went right down through almost to my dick.  My dick.  It felt just as useless as my feet as it pressed into Rocko’s muscled thigh.  He continued to spank me, each time the pain spread out in circles from where he hit until it reached my lower back, then it ran up into my chest and all the way down to my feet.  I started to sob but he just kept at me.

When I reached back with my hand he only took hold of it, pinned it to my back and continued to swat me.  The sound echoed off the walls and the roof.  I was glad that only my mother was home and that she was probably completely oblivious to what was happening.  Strangely my butt stopped hurting so bad.  The pain became this dull sensation that ran through my skin, even to the top of my head.  I cried out for mercy.  I cried out for him to stop.  I cried out apologies.  His hand came down again and again.  Finally I went limp over him, every muscle in my body gave out.  I hung loose down to the steps, the backs of my fingers against the wood.

That’s when he stopped.  He had broken me.  I was truly sorry.  My chest hurt from the pressure against his thighs but it didn’t matter.  It, the spanking, was over.  Tears felt frozen on my face, I breathed in gasps and tried to speak but I had no voice.  He let me recover for a few minutes before his hands went to my sides to nudge me so I pushed myself up from his lap.  His naked body there still before me didn’t matter.

All I could feel was the burn in my ass from his spanking.  He pulled me between his knees, pulled off my shirt just as he had done to Brad, then pointed to a spot next to him for me to go and stand.  I shuffled my way there, almost bumping into Brad as I moved next to him.  Rocko stood, scratched at himself, then made his way over to me where he promptly pulled my underwear down around my ass to inspect the bruising.  Seemingly pleased with his work he pulled the band back up, a little tight so I felt the back of my briefs between my cheeks.  He did the same to Brad before he walked around in front of us.  He was naked.  We were in our underwear.  But we were clearly more humiliated and ashamed than he was. 

“Take off your pants,” he said.

“What?” Brad asked.

Rocko was quick to slap him across the face.  I looked to them then immediately bent down to get my boots and jeans off.  Brad did the same.

“Put your boots back on, then I want you to go down to the barn like that and muck out the stalls.  Take a moment to compose yourselves but don’t take too long.”

Part Two: Working Hard