Date: Tue, 16 Oct 2007 19:07:56 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Other little House 20

Building a Relationship


Chapter 20
Our First Morning


Dazed. Exhausted. Suffering in a glow of repletion. Never in my life had
I been so thoroughly and completely satisfied. Fucked to a turn. I lay
there in a blissfully warm cocoon. My legs spread and Brent's furry warm
body covering mine and pressing me deeply into the down mattress. My
brain, for once, was functioning in minimalist mode. I was only aware of
a fog of satisfied pleasure, of being safe and protected.

Brent stirred above me. I felt his weight begin to lift from me and tried
to protest. Brent calmed me with many kisses and by constantly stroking
my body as he lifted off of me, his still swollen penis slithering out of
my cum soaked and puffy-lipped anus. I cried when I lost his proud flesh
and he kissed my eyes and laved away my tears.

"I have to take care of the stock, Jason. Please don't be sad. I'll
take care of them and be back to you in almost no time at all. You just
rest a little bit and I'll be back in your bed before you know it.  Just
sleep, Jason. Sleep. Rest quietly, baby. Sleep..."

I dozed off with his deep voice burbling in my ears.

Some interminable time later I awoke to the rustling of the quilt and a
breath of cold air as Brent rejoined me in the warm bed. I rolled to my
side and lifted my arm as Brent moved close to me and enveloped me in his
powerful but chilly arms. He was cold from the outside air so I put my
leg over his hip and pulled him into me, sharing my warmth with him as
his lips and hands began avidly searching my face and ears and neck. That
quickly, I was back under his control with my need for him. I shifted my
hips forward and his erection quickly found its warm home and sank deeply
within me, filling me again with the love I felt for this man and warming
us both.

Fear of losing this special place and of being alone and used again
overwhelmed me and I began to cry.

"I'm sorry Little Dude, I didn't even think. You must be awfully sore.
I'm so stupid sometimes. I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Brent chastised
himself and tried to withdraw from me eternally.

As I felt him pulling back I couldn't stand the feeling of losing him.
Desperately my arms and legs grabbed Brent's body and, with all my
strength, I pulled his massive body on top of mine. "Fuck me Brent. Fuck
me until all the bad things go away. Please, Brent. Fuck me as hard as
you can. Please..." I begged him, pleaded with him until he timidly
began to move. Sucking and biting at his neck, I urged him on until he
finally reared up over me and began to pound me as I desired. Slamming
his body into mine. Splattering cum and sweat all over the bedsheets and
the both of us. Fucking me again so good that I wanted it to never stop,
to have him never go away until time stopped for me.

Kicking my heels into his buttocks and clawing at his back with my
fingernails, my mouth attacked his throat and jaw with angry hot love
bites and sucking, vacuuming lippings, I drove Brent on until he was in a
rage of lust, sinking his teeth into the nape of my neck  and holding
both of my shoulders down with his hands so I couldn't escape the
frenzied thrusting of his loins against my wonderfully abused backside.
With animal growls and demanding shakings of my body with his primitive
fang hold on my neck, Brent demanded my submission. All I had to do to
inflame him even more was try to move or control him and he'd attack me
even more wantonly. I moved a lot.

I was clawing at him and clenching myself to him as I screamed at him to
fuck me even harder. He must have realized that I really wanted him to
fuck my brains out and that I was strong enough to handle anything he
could dish out because I felt him let go of his civilized thinking and
become a pure, passionate, demanding stud animal in response to the
demanding, passionate pure stud animal underneath him. Using me for his
pleasure and to satisfy a need built up through years of chastity as I
demanded my own satisfaction. I soon let go of my own planning and
thinking and plotting and deciding and restrictions and fears and joined
him in a land of pure carnal bliss.

It has taken us years of talking and honesty with each other so that I
can, in perfect confidence, write this. WE joined with each other. WE
felt everything both of us were feeling and WE reacted to OUR needs. WE
reached that pinnacle where WE were US. As total and perfect a union and
awareness as two people can ever attain. KNOWING what the other was
thinking and feeling and experiencing and wanting and needing because it
was what we were experiencing and wanting and needing ourselves. KNOWING
how to give US what WE needed and wanted and desired. Reacting instantly
and completely to the tiniest desire WE might have... WE did... WE...
until WE swelled and grew and expanded and fulfilled each other in a
single orgasm that splattered US with sperm between OUR bellies and deep
within OUR cock/ass sheath connection in synchronous ejaculations of our
essence.

Sinking into each other. Falling. Falling into shuddering discord as we
lost the perfection we had become in our union. Brent crying and
repeating, over and over, "Oh, my God.... Oh, my God...." as great
wracking sobs escaped me with the pain of the loss of my family, the loss
of those who loved me, the loss of everything I held dear and the pain of
being lost and alone and used and demeaned poured out of my injured and
fragile soul only to be replaced with something better. We held each
other tightly as the pain and hurt and confusion of our short lives
released itself in a great cathartic purge. Physically and emotionally
exhausted, we fell asleep holding tightly to each other in desperate
need.

It was mid-morning and the sun well up when I was awakened by my bowels
ejecting Brent's spent organ and threatening to release even more
immediately. Desperately I tried to push Brent's heavy body off of me.
Groggily he awoke and raised up enough for me to slip out from under him.
I jumped to my feet and, watched by a puzzled Brent, tried to run for the
ladder. One step almost lead to an eruption of my guts and I desperately
clenched my buttocks together with both my hands. I must have looked
hilarious because Brent started laughing.

Angrily, I shouted, "It's not funny! I can't hold it in and I'm going
to make a mess!"

Brent seemed to realize that I was really in trouble and stopped laughing
immediately. He jumped out of bed and, clasping his great hand completely
across my hands and buttocks, lifted me to his shoulder without putting
pressure on my gut and quickly carried us both down the ladder and out
the back door to the outhouse. My buttocks barely touched the wood board
seat when a great fluidly flatulent roar of gas and cum and liquid feces
erupted from me.  He startled at the abruptly thunderous sound and his
guts reacted in sympathy. Eyes wide, Brent barely made it to the second
hole as a great long turd slid out of his roiling guts. Bashful in each
others presence at such a private moment, we ducked our heads away from
each other until loudly resounding billows of gas escaped from both of us
at the same time.

Startled, we looked at each other and suddenly broke out into
uncontrollable laughter. Brent took my hand and kissed me as we sat there
and farted and shit and pissed, enjoying the intimacy and intrigued by
the sounds of another persons bodily functions and odors.

Brent finished his business before I did and carefully washed his behind
and hands at the facet and trough hung from the side wall of the
outhouse. He patted himself dry with the rough towel and then sat down
beside me again and held me by the shoulders as I finished my business.
We talked quietly about Brent's ranch and animals, avoiding the topic of
our overpowering experience this morning and the events that led up to
that pinnacle.

I got into talking about how amazing it was to be sitting here in an
outhouse with him, feeling not only comfortable, but actually turned on
by being here with him and smelling the odors created by the wastes from
HIS body. Brent laughed and said that I was just plain horny. I got
serious and said that was the way being around him made me feel. Brent
smiled at me and gave me a big hug and a kiss that made my dangling dick
jump up and thump against the bottom of the wooden seat I was sitting on.

Brent looked down between my legs. "Looks to me like you're done going
potty little boy," he said in a deep, serious voice.

I my best "little boy" voice I said, "Yes, Daddy. I'm done now."

Brent, in his `Daddy' persona, lifted me off the outhouse seat and bent
my hinney over the trough. He held me against his side with one strong
arm and used his other hand to turn on the water and carefully wash my
tender bottom. Cautiously spreading my buttocks, Daddy probed my swollen
flaming pink tissues with his fingers and eyes.

"It looks to Daddy like his little boys bottom is very sore."

"Oh no, Daddy. It's very sensitive right now, but that's because my
Daddy spent all night training my hole and making him and me very
happy."

"Well, it looks to me like Daddy used your bottom too much and hurt
it."

"No. No, Daddy. You made your little boys bottom feel very good. He
loves the way you made his bottom feel. Your little boy loves the way
you're making it feel right now. Your fingers are making my bottom feel
all tingly and warm and that's making my pee-pee really hard, Daddy.
Massage me some more, Daddy. It feels really good." I could feel
Brent's erection lifting along my side as he gently worked two and three
and four fingers in and out of my bottom., Cleaning, probing and testing
and making his willing little boy moan in pleasure.

"You like having Daddy make love to you, don't you, boy!" I was bent
over double by now and my only response was to spread my feet even
further which pushed me even harder up against Brent's side and gave him
even better access to my pink bottom. "Yeah, you love having your daddy
finger your bottom, don't you?"

I was holding on to the edge of the outhouse seats, breathing deeply of
the effluvia coming from the hole Brent had used that morning and many
days in the past. Brent's fingers in my hole and the heavy organic odors
from the other hole were making me feel like I was drunk and all I could
do was nod in response to Daddy's question.

Brent pushed me forward and lined me up until my head was poked in the
hole, my arms straining to keep me from falling in. The thick miasma of
feces and urine and the pressure of a quartet of broad fingers pushed
completely up inside me brought out a moan from deep inside of me. I took
a deep, deep breath through my nose and let the odor completely overwhelm
me. I spread my feet even further, presenting my little boy bottom
perfectly to my daddy, to use as he pleased. I was only three years
younger than Brent's very mature  nineteen years, but this Daddy/son
game we were playing felt perfectly proper and natural. He was the
dominant person in our relationship and I felt protected and cared for in
my submission to him. At the same time I felt my strength in giving my
lover what he needed to be strong and complete. We complemented each
other, strengthened each other without hurting or detracting from our own
strength or completeness.

And speaking of strength, Brent's fingers were soon replaced with a
fatter and much longer protrusion of his that drove my head even deeper
into the hole as it powered its way deeply into my hole. My only regret
was that golf was unknown yet so I couldn't make any remarks about
birdies and birds in the bush and holes-in-one and such. While I was
worrying about such things Daddy Brent had his driver well advanced into
the tee and was stroking for par as my putter was held with a loose, open
grip and hooked and sliced all over the course.

We couldn't keep up the pretense of our game and ended up just rutting
like two sex-starved and lust-maddened animals -- which was just fine by
me and seemed to meet with Brent's approval as well. Brent sprayed my
insides with his hot sperm and then pulled me upright against his chest
with his throbbing organ still deeply embedded up my butt. I lifted my
feet and planted them widely on the shitter bench as Brent slow-fucked my
spread ass with his swollen and spent cock while he reached in front of
me and solidly wanked my cock until I blasted my wad all over the back
wall of the shitter as he continued to lodge his cock as deeply into me
as he could.

Pushing as hard against Brent with my wide-spread legs as I could, I
reached up and behind me and locked my hands behind his head. My entire
body was now under tension as I worked my tightened butthole over the fat
cock in my guts. Matching my movements to Brent's manipulation of my
rigid cock gave me the feeling of masturbating myself and fucking myself
at the same time only magnified by the warm flow of rippling muscles
against my sweaty and fevered skin. How wonderful it felt being spread
wide by the magnificent cock and being able to stimulate myself
internally, masturbating myself inside of me like I usually masturbated
myself on the outside. Using Brent's turgid cock on my guts the way I
usually used my hands on my cock. Brent fucking my outsides the way most
men could only fuck my insides. Brent and I reversing our fucking roles
to masturbation that was fucking that was... my head was spinning. I
didn't know if I was fucking or being fucked. Jacking off or dildoing
myself or being dildoed and wanked or just being stretched to my limits
and beyond into the land of bliss.

Every muscle in my body standing out in rigid relief and Brent straining
against my considerable strength, we worked against and with each other
until I felt his balls wad up against his supposedly spent cock as it
send long hard streamers of sperm into me, and through me, and out of my
cock. From his balls and out of my dick. His nuts contracting with each
lengthy spooge emission from the rod trapped in his strong hands. My
sheath and his organ linking us so he could use my cock to send his cum
splattering against the wall in long white ribbons of delight.

Weak and dazed and bemused, I found myself being cleaned by Brent again,
much as though I were a sick calf. Unable, unwilling to resist, I twisted
in his arms and took a long loving kiss from him as his hands explored my
behind and washed me most thoroughly.

"Do you want to get some work done with what's left of the morning?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to go take a bath with me?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to fuck you again?"

"Yes."

"Would you rather suck my cock?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to make me some breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Quit trying to kiss me and pay attention, or do you want me to give you
a spanking?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to take you down to the barn and have my stallion fuck
you?"

"Yes." --- "I want you to take me down to the barn," --- "But I want
you to fuck me. That stallion ain't got enough dick to pleasure me the
way you do."

Chuckling, Brent picked me up in his arms and carried me naked down to
the barn, letting me kiss him on the way. Somehow, I landed with my back
end up with my legs tucked under Brent's armpits and his dick down my
throat to hold me in place. I clasped my arms around his buttocks and
just enjoyed the way his walking moved his cock in my throat. Brent took
the opportunity to carefully inspect my bottom with his eyes and fingers,
using his lips periodically to gently osculate my testicles and sore
hole.

Brent walked straight through the dimness of the barn and climbed the
ladder to the hayloft. I figured that he sort of enjoyed the extra motion
his climbing caused since he went up and down the middle of the ladder
several times, stopping once to press me against the rungs with his body
and give my throat a good rogering.

When he finally managed to get all the way up the ladder (not hurried on
by me, I assure you) Brent fell to his side in a deep pile of golden
Timothy hay. I continued Brent's previous motions with much longer and
deeper sucking motions of my own. Lingering around his cockhead, I'd
most carefully explore and titillate the little bumps on his ridge as
well as lave the deep groove and fold of foreskin. My tongue seemed to
spend a lot of time trying to penetrate his pisshole and attempting to
find the source of the delightful tasting crystal fluid he kept drooling
in large quantities, a special treat for me since I loved the taste of
the pre-cum and I'd never seen anyone who produced the tremendous flow
that Brent constantly weeped when aroused.

For the longest time, Brent just lay there slowly stroking my lithe body
with his free hand and enjoying my ministrations upon his proud manflesh.
I noticed Brent's hand travel down my belly and push me back so he could
inspect my groin. His hand pulled at my pubics and felt of my penis and
testicles. His tentative gropings tickled me, but I was so aroused that I
didn't object or react in any untoward manner. Brent folded his hand
around my dry penis (I release very little, if any, pre-cum unless
pressure is being applied to my glands from inside) and lightly stroked
up and down my shaft. At that age I didn't have much pubic hair, just
the small patch above my cock and a few stray hairs on my balls, but my
cock was already well over seven inches long and of a good, solid
thickness, nothing to compare with Brent's hefty wanger really, but a
seriously respectable piece of meat. My balls were full and well formed,
but not overly large by any means, and my sac tended to stay up near the
shaft and have a much more rounded appearance than Brent's long,
dangling bag. Brent seemed entranced by the differences and was giving me
a most careful going over. 

I was just settling down to return my full attention to the prong down my
throat when I felt the tentative touch of Brent's tongue against the
head of my erection. Freezing lest I distract him, I looked down between
our bodies as Brent carefully analyzed the taste he had so gingerly taken
of me. With a half quizzical look on his face he wiped his broad tongue
against my exposed glans, his rough tongue feeling like a piece of
sandpaper against my sensitive cockhead.

Smacking his tongue several times and moving the thick organ around in
his mouth, Brent apparently decided that he liked my taste because he
leaned forward and took the head completely into his warm mouth. Sudden
deep suction plastered my face to Brent's groin as I gasped in surprise.
His organ completely buried in my mouth and throat as my body flushed and
began to tremble uncontrollably. I was not used to cowboys returning my
favors and really had no expectation that this young stalwart had any
inclination or intent to suck my cock. Instead of just using me, Brent
seemed to be trying to say that he cared with his gentle ministrations. A
wave of fear chilled my body. This cowboy was becoming entirely too
important to me. If I let him get too close to me, become important to
me, if I started to really love him it would just give him the power to
hurt me.

NO!

I pushed away from the cowboy and ran down the ladder and out of the
barn. Seconds later I slammed the door of the house behind me.
Frenetically pacing the kitchen area I tried to put things into
perspective. All I really knew is that I wanted Brent so bad that it hurt
and that if I let myself care, I'd loose Brent. Sobbing, crying
hysterically, I collapsed into the corner of the kitchen and curled up
into a sodden rag of miserable, anguished boy.

As I lay there washing the floor with my tears, a young man with a very
puzzled look cautiously came through the door. "Oh, my God. What have I
done to you," he said when he saw me. Quickly, he knelt at my side and
tried to inspect me for bleeding and other injuries. I tried to fight him
off, but he handled me as easily as he would a sickly calf. Not finding
any obvious injuries, he lifted me in his arms and walked over to the big
homemade rocking chair in front of the glass-paned widow. He sat down and
held me in his lap with his arms wrapped around me and stroking me in an
attempt to calm me down.

Once I quieted a little he tried to ask me if I was injured inside. What
had he done to hurt me so badly? I broke out in fresh sobs and tried to
explain that he had done nothing to hurt me and that I was OK. He didn't
believe me and kept asking and asking what was wrong. Angrily, tears of
pain and frustration pouring from my face I finally pushed away from him
and yelled, "You haven't hurt me so shut up! I want to love you and
I'm afraid I'll hurt you and lose you if I do!"

Shocked, Brent just stared at me until he finally pulled me against his
chest and leaned back in the chair without saying a word. Silently, he
sat there and rocked me as I bawled out my renewed pain into his chest.

What seemed like hours later (and probably was) I lay, emotionally and
physically exhausted in his warm arms. Embarrassed at my loss of control
and deeply sad knowing that I would have to leave now, I just wanted this
to end so I could leave as quickly as possible. Brent pushed me upright
and told me to get up and go wash my face. I got up and went to the
kitchen sink and used the cold water from the hand pump to wash my face
and blow my nose. Brent joined me, slightly wobbly from his legs having
gone to sleep under my weight, and handed me a towel to dry my face. He
told me to put my boots on and started using the wet dishcloth to wash my
mess off his chest. Once I had my boots on Brent walked over to me and
put his hand out. "Come with me," he said. I took his hand and he lead
me out the back door.

He lead me past the outhouse and water tower and across a small field
until we were climbing the low hill North of the house. Once on the
rounded top of the knob of a hill, Brent stopped and leaned over to pull
loose a single oat straw, ripe with grain. Putting the sweet shaft in his
mouth, he stood and looked over the surrounding countryside. After a
period of quietly looking at the land and breathing deeply of the clear
air, Brent began to speak in a careful, thoughtful voice;

"I have a father and four older brothers. My mother died giving birth to
me. My father and brothers wanted me to be like them, and I never could.
Getting drunk and whoring around and beating up on other guys just never
appealed to me. I left home when I was fifteen years old because I just
couldn't knuckle under to their demands that I act like they thought a
`Man' should act. I came here and started building this place."

Pointing East, he continued, "They've got a big spread about sixteen ^Ö
seventeen miles over there." Sweeping his arm to the South and West, he
said, "all of that is mine. I homesteaded the first section and have
managed to buy four more sections by saving every penny and driving my
cattle to the railhead myself." Pointing, he enumerated his land and
holdings, "The woods around the river are all mine, and some of the
pasture beyond the woods. It's all pasturage to the west and the little
bit I own north of this hill. I built the house and barn and corrals
myself. I've made friends with the Indians in this area and they trade
pelts with me sometimes. I've got a good herd and when I get enough
money, I'm going to buy some prime bulls from back East and improve my
herd until I'm getting top dollar for everything I'm willing to sell.
My stallion is a champion and I get fifty dollars every time he breeds,
and I want to develop my own breeding herd from him on the land he helped
buy."

Turning to face the broad open pasturage to the North he pointed across
the broad acres, "Getting title to that land is necessary if I'm to
build the herd big enough to be secure."

After several minutes of staring across the wind ripples in the tall
natural grass, Brent turned to face me. "I never much liked the
womenfolk, Jason. I guess that's part of why I couldn't get along with
my dad and brothers. If'n you was to stay here with me, you could claim
this section North of mine from the government as a homestead, and maybe
later we could buy the rest of the acreage we'd need. We could be equal
partners, Jason, and you'd never have to leave here unless you wanted."

Swallowing deeply as, paralyzed, I just stared at him, Brent went on.
"Jason, we ain't known each other very long, but I'm asking you to
stay here and share my life with me. Please Jason, don't leave me. You
are the first person I've loved with all my heart and I want to try and
make you happy for the rest of my life."

Silently, I dropped Brent's hand and turned my back to him. Looking
across the broad acres, I finally made up my mind, for better or worse,
and leaned back against his chest,

---eof---