Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2006 18:35:26 -0700
From: qwb <qwb@san.rr.com>
Subject: Stonegate Stables, Ch 9

Sorry about all the formatting/editing goobers. Hopefully
future chapters will be better. You can always email me and
I'll send you the original Word .doc.  Thanks for reading.


>From Chapter 8..

I could see Vincent was interested - his cock was already
perking back up, but he looked at me and my heart gave a little
twist. He wanted to, I knew that. What I suddenly wasn't so
sure about was whether I could say okay. Vincent watched me
carefully, his eyes locked on mine, then he cupped my face in
his hand and ran his thumb lightly over my mouth. "I love you."

That was all I needed. I knew he did, I knew we were stronger
together than I gave us credit for but sometimes I still needed
to hear it.


Stonegate Stables
Chapter 9

My love for you was not built on shifting sands
I made a promise long ago and it still stands
Go on and do what your heart tells you to
As for me I'll always be lovin' you

- I'll always be lovin' you, George
Straight


"It's okay," I assured him, rubbing his chest. "I want to watch
you." I rolled to my knees and pushed TJ down to the bed,
kissing him on the way. "This is a good time to do it. You just
came so you're relaxed. Vincent's bigger than me so you're
gonna need to relax."

I knelt at his side, poured lube into my hand and went to work
on his hole, easing a finger in gently at first, then moving it
around more vigorously before adding a second one. It took him
several minutes to be comfortable with a third but soon he was
moaning and rolling his head back and forth. Vincent moved into
position, and pushed TJ's knees back.

"Keep breathing and push a little." I repeated my instructions
from two weeks ago. Vincent gripped his cock and pushed firmly,
popping in easily, although TJ gasped and pulled away a little.
"Try to relax," I told him, stroking his chest, talking softly
to him.

"Ohhhh, God, he feels so different from you," he moaned in a
strained voice. "It hurts a little." He reached out and Vincent
grabbed his hand. I rubbed a slick finger around between his
balls and Vincent's dick and he began to relax into the feeling
instead of fighting it.

"You're okay, as long as it's just a little."

He nodded, eyes closed. After a minute or so, he looked up at
Vincent. "Go ahead."

Vincent wrapped his hands around the front of TJ's thighs and
worked his cock in another couple inches. TJ arched his head
back, pushing his shoulders off the bed but didn't say
anything. Vincent paused to regain some control, groaning deep
in his chest. He pushed in a few more inches, eliciting a long
moan from TJ but still no signal to stop. Vincent leaned
forward onto braced arms and grunted his way to full
penetration, pushing TJ up the bed a little. TJ was shaking
badly and Vincent wasn't much better, a sheen of sweat covered
his body and he shivered repeatedly, like a wet dog.

Seeing Vincent like this was an emotional struggle for me. It
was the first time we'd played with someone else since we'd
committed to a partnership. And we didn't know TJ well.
Watching him fuck another man, seeing him so powerfully caught
up in it, nicked at something deep inside me. On the other
hand, it was incredibly erotic to see him take TJ as he'd taken
me so many times. I looked at the point where Vincent merged
with TJ, the pink skin of TJ's hole stretched tight around the
pulsing veins of Vincent's thick brown cock. Erotic won out and
I kissed Vincent deeply and long enough that he looked at me
questioningly when we broke apart. I just smiled at him. We
looked down at TJ who was watching us with envy. "I so hope I
can find that someday. You two are amazing together." We
grinned at each other, knowing how fortunate we were.

Vincent looked back to TJ. "You ready?" TJ took a deep breath
and nodded, grabbing the backs of his knees. Vincent's face was
a study in concentration as he started slowly, going deeper and
harder as TJ's expression eased. A few times TJ was at the
ragged edge, but Vincent backed off and tugged TJ's balls down
until he could take some more. I'd been on the receiving end of
Vincent at his best and knew what TJ was going through. There
really is nothing like getting fucked by a guy who knows what
he's doing and is in the mood to show you. At the end, TJ was
crying out with each stroke, his knees around his ears; Vincent
was dripping sweat and grunting each time he drove forward. I
stuck my hand between them and grabbed TJ's hard dick in a firm
fist. He shot immediately, splattering cum all over his chest.
Vincent took a few more long, hard strokes, drove deep and
froze, his face the only clue to the powerful orgasm he was
experiencing. I was so aroused by the sight of them that I came
again without even touching myself, pumping hot spurts onto
Vincent's knee. He opened his eyes at the unexpected warmth and
gave me a steamy look.

He pulled free and collapsed face first between TJ and me, an
arm over each of us. "Fuck, I'm done for. You couldn't get a
rise out of me with a fork lift."

I patted him on the butt. "You'll feel better after a shower."
He just groaned. TJ looked like he'd been run over by a truck
but sat up when I shook him. We grabbed Vincent by the ankles
and dragged him off the bed `til his knees hit the floor, then
skipped out of the way laughing as he swung around, growling
and swiping at our legs. We finally made it to the shower, got
clean and sort of dressed - boxers all around - and trooped
down to the kitchen where Adam and Wade were dishing out
scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. Cody and Dylan were on the
patio, shoveling food into their faces when we joined them.

"Theah's somethin' `bout fuckin' in a different bed that makes
me ravenous," Cody mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

Wade cuffed him gently on the back of the head as he came out
from the kitchen. "You're always hungry. It's got nothing to do
with different beds, for God's sake. And we didn't fuck, we
made love."

Cody snorted. "Sorry, honey. You may a been making love ta me
but Ah was fuckin' you." That got him a hard punch from Wade
that knocked him off his chair and launched us into a
discussion regarding the nature of the word 'fuck'. Dylan
claimed that 'fuck' was the basic noun to describe one guy's
dick in another guy's ass. You could dress it up however you
liked - it was still a fuck.

Those of us in a relationship disagreed, stating that it might
be fucking in a technical sense using 'fuck' as a verb, but it
was definitely 'making love' emotionally, at least most of the
time. That got us off into the various ways 'fuck'
could be used. As an adverb - `he's so fucking
hot'. As a noun - 'I don't give a fuck'. As part
of a word - `abso-fucking-lutely', 'in-fucking-
credible'.

I looked at Vincent and shook my head, smiling,
amused at the turn our breakfast conversation had
taken. Dylan saw me.

"What, are we too juvenile for you now?" His voice was
harsh and we all stared at him. He flushed then, a dark
brick red that
started on his neck and quickly spread to his face.
Shoving back his chair, he went into the house
quickly and a few moments later we heard his truck
start, then the angry sound of squealing tires as
they caught on the asphalt of the road.

"Jesus, what got into him?" Adam's voice was quiet,
shocked. Dylan had always been the kidder among us,
upbeat, joking, ready for anything. This was very
out of character and it scared me a little. Vincent
put a hand on my shoulder.

"I think maybe 'we' got into him. Go find him,
Sean."

I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, trying to
think where
he might have gone. A few places came to mind but one
stood out and I headed north on the freeway. When we were
teenagers, we used to
go out into the hills, camping and hiking, fooling
around in our little tent, just the two of us. We
never took anyone else along and we swore we would
never bring anyone to our spot. It was just for us.

His truck was parked haphazardly under a big tree at
the turnoff but he wasn't in it. I walked slowly
down the trail, listening for him, looking through
the trees but I didn't spot him until I emerged into
the clearing where we used to pitch the tent. He was
sitting on a stump, his back to me, leaning forward,
elbows on knees with his head in his hands. I
watched him for a moment before walking slowly to
him. I sunk down to the ground a few feet away. He'd
been crying and scrubbed his arm across his face
when he saw me.

"Go the fuck away." His voice wobbled and he gulped
down another sob.

I watched him for a moment, wondering how to handle
this. I
think I knew what the problem was, but needed to
make him see it instead of telling him what I
thought. "Do you love me?"

His head came up angrily but he wouldn't meet my
eyes. "What
the fuck kind of question is that?"

"Just answer it. Do you love me?"

"God, Sean, you know I do. I have forever."

"Are you in love with me?"

That stopped him. The fingers of one hand rubbed
hard over the other as he looked away, staring
unseeingly at the trees. It took a while and when
he answered, his voice was quiet. "No." He turned
to look at me for the first time. "No, I'm not in
love with you." He dropped his head back into his
hands and his shoulders jerked as he tried to get
his emotions under control. "But I love you and I
love being with you. Those nights on the couch,
watching stupid movies, feeding you whatever
dessert I brought . . . " His voice trailed off.
"I'll miss that."




"You heard me back at the pool, Vincent and I are
still going to play."

"Yeah, together." He flushed again but it was from
embarrassment this time and colored only his pale
freckled cheeks. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm happy for
you. Vincent is a great
guy. It just caught me by surprise, I guess. I
mean, after all these years, who'd have thought?"

I didn't know what to say. I'd know him all my
life. He was the first boy I'd had sex with,
fumbling, sweaty, no clue what we were doing sex,
but sex nonetheless. It simply hadn't occurred to
me that he would be upset by my becoming Vincent's
partner. I had just assumed that everyone would be
happy for us and I hadn't given a thought to
anyone's feelings but my own.

I crawled to him, pushing between his knees so that
I could hug him. He just sat there for a minute,
then wrapped his arms around me, dropping his
forehead to my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I wouldn't hurt you for
the world.
I love those evenings, too. Let me talk to
Vincent."

He pulled back to look at me. "And what, get
permission?" he said sullenly.

"No," I said, stung by his sarcastic tone. "Just
discuss it with him."

I hugged him tight for a moment and kissed the side
of his neck, then got to my feet and walked back to
my truck, thinking about relationships, how complex
people were, realizing that you can never know what
goes on in someone else's head no matter how well
you think you know them. It made me sad to think I
might lose Dylan's friendship but that would be his
choice. I could only try to make it as unlikely as
possible.

By the time I got back to the house, everyone had
gone and Vincent was out by the jungle pool,
bringing in the leftover food. I helped him carry
in the last load, putting things away and getting
the kitchen back to some sort of order for Maria in
the morning. He didn't talk to me during all this,
just worked by my side, giving me a little smile
when our eyes met, and his quiet understanding made
it easy for me to talk to him. I told him what
Dylan had said, not making a case one way or the
other and when I was done, he dropped onto the
nearest chair and pulled me down onto his lap.

"I work a night or two each week at the restaurant.
Spend those evenings with Dylan."

"He doesn't want to just watch TV on the couch with
me."

"I know." He was quiet for a bit. "It's okay,
Sean."

"Okay for me to fuck around without you? I don't
want to do that. That's not what we agreed to." My
voice rose as I spoke and he patted my chest. I
knew I was upset because if he would allow me,
maybe I had to allow him someday, and I didn't want
to do that.

"Calm down. I'm not saying you can go screw the
entire gay population of the tri-county area. Just
Dylan. And just until he gets used to the idea of
us. We can fit three on that couch."

We didn't talk anymore about it. Vincent had given
me a way to fix a problem with someone I cared
about, and the depth of his trust filled me with a
soul-deep contentment that I knew would get me
through almost anything life could throw at us. We
spent the rest of the day messing around the house,
rearranging some furniture to make an office for
Vincent's endless restaurant
paperwork. I thought you needed food to run a
restaurant, but apparently you needed a shitload of
paper, too. Health certificates, liquor license
applications, employee applications, vendor order
forms, invoices, P&L statements; the list went on
and on; and Vincent spent a couple hours a day on
it, some here and some at the office at Corleone's.

In the afternoon, we went for a ride. I had brought
home Ima Cool Chex, one of Cody's retired roping
horses and had been teaching Vincent to ride. He
took to it like a natural and we wandered around
the bridle paths for a couple hours, saying hi to
neighbors and admiring their gardens. I saw a
fountain I liked, and we decided to put one on the
back patio. Vincent wanted to try doing it on
horseback but I persuaded him to wait `til dark
that evening and see if it was even possible in the
safety of my own barn. With that to look forward
to, we spent a pleasant evening eating pool party
leftovers and lounging around the jungle pool,
trying to psych ourselves up for Monday.

When it was dark, we grabbed a bottle of lube, a
pocket full
of carrots and headed down to the little barn on
the hill. Zena and Chex were standing in the
paddock, hipshot, dozing. They perked up when they
saw us and came into the barn for the carrots. I
haltered Zena and hopped on her bareback.

"Get up behind me. We need to get her used to our
weight first."

Vincent climbed on from the fence and we walked her
around a while. She didn't seem to care one way or
the other so we went back in the barn and slid off.
I put her in the cross tie stall, but left the rope
over her neck and hung a hay bag where she could
reach it while Vincent stripped and stroked himself.

"Are you gonna saddle her?"

"Not unless you want me to sing soprano. The horn'll
castrate
me and there isn't enough room for both of us
anyway. Get on."

Once Vincent was on her, I climbed up the rails and
carefully slid a leg over Zena, ending up on
Vincent's lap. I leaned down over Zena's neck while
he got himself hard and played with my ass a
little.

"Ok, I'm ready." He held me by the hips and pulled me
back onto him.

It took us a few tries to get him lined up properly and
I was starting to giggle, but then he suddenly slid into
me, taking
my breath.

"Ooooohhh! Bull's eye!"

He cracked up and we had to stop for a minute while Zena
calmed down from my shriek. When she was eating again, I
pulled myself forward using a handful of her mane.
Vincent pulled me back and we were
able to achieve almost a full stroke but my balls were
squashed
on Zena's hard withers so it wasn't as fun as I thought
it would be. Then I had the bright idea of turning
around. If I lay over her big broad rump, my poor nuts
would have plenty of room and Vincent
would have better access to my ass.

One by one, we swung our legs to the same side, then
back over
the other way and, presto, we were facing backwards
except I was behind Vincent instead of in front of
him. I pushed him down flat and crawled over him
until we were in the right positions. Zena laid her
ears back at this maneuver but got
over it when I spoke sharply to her. I scooted back
toward Vincent's pulsing erection and he guided
himself into me without a hitch. Other than scratchy
horse hair in our crotches, it was pretty good. We
didn't actually go anywhere; we didn't have a good
way to stay on her and concentrate on fucking at the
same time, not to mention being unable to steer while
facing her butt. And trying to stay quiet to not
spook her put a damper on our orgasms so Vincent
chalked the whole thing up as one of those fantasies
that are better off left in your head.

On the way back to the house we stopped by the
Jacuzzi and took turns getting the horse hair out of
each other's nether regions. Vincent was sprawled on
his chest on the warm concrete, kneeling on one of
the ledges so his dick and balls were hanging in the
hot bubbling water while I brushed stray Zena hairs
from his ass. When I was finished, I leaned forward
and pressed my mouth to his butt cheek, tickling him
with my tongue in between nibbles. He spread his
knees for me, arching his back a little as I dragged
my tongue into the crevice of his ass and in no time
I had him groaning and pushing back into me, rotating
his hole on my tongue. My cock was painfully hard,
stimulated both by the taste and feel of Vincent and
the caressing swirl of the water jets. Desire rolled
through me and I did something I'd never done before.

I climbed out of the hot tub and yanked him over to a
chaise lounge, pushing him face down with his legs
bent and his feet on the ground, spreading him wide.
I stood straddled over the chaise behind him, lubed
us quickly and shoved a finger in him
abruptly enough that he gasped, but didn't protest.
When I added a second finger with no reaction from
him except a low moan, I pulled my fingers out and
pushed my cock firmly into him, sliding all the way
to the base of my cock on one long stroke. He was
trembling a little but his moan was one of pleasure,
not pain, and it excited me, so I began to thrust
fast and deeply, angling for his prostate every third
or fourth stroke. The lean muscles of his legs stood
out tensely and he let out a hard grunt each time my
belly slapped into his ass.

This was very different from my usual taking of him
and I wondered where it had come from. That he was
accepting it with such abandon was a little
unsettling also. It was as though our roles had been
reversed, or at least blurred a little. I was
now the aggressor and he the more passive one. Our
relationship had never been one of extremes, but it
was clear to both of us that Vincent exerted more
control over me than I did him, and that was fine.
I trusted him and followed his lead in most things
with the confidence that he would never do anything
to hurt me or go too far beyond what I was
comfortable with. But here we were.

I curled my upper body over him, bracing myself on
straight arms at either side of his chest and let
my body do what it wanted until my legs began to
shake from exertion. Putting both hands under his
hips, I pulled him to his feet and locked one arm
around his waist, reaching for his cock with my
other hand. He was as hard as I've ever seen him
and a long shimmery strand of precum hung from his
slit, whipping back and forth as I banged into him.
Unlike some guys, Vincent always stayed hard when
he was penetrated. His balls were tight to the base
of his cock and I knew he was ready to blow, so I
let myself go and jerked him hard and quick. His
moan went up an octave and then turned to short
deep grunts as his cock swelled in my hand and he
began to spurt load after load onto the cushion,
his entire body convulsing against me with the
effort.

The feel of him cumming in my fist pushed me over
and I drove deep into him as my balls contracted.
When the first pulse rippled up my cock, I rode it,
taking short strokes timed with the spasms, until I
couldn't move any more. I pulled out of him and let
him down onto the chaise, kneeling forward between
his legs and resting my chest on his butt, my head
pillowed in my arms on his back. We lay there, not
speaking for several minutes, getting our breath
back. Finally, he pushed to his feet, took me by the
hand, walked silently to the house, up the stairs,
and straight into the shower. He didn't speak or
look at me, and I began to wonder if I had
overstepped some line between us that I hadn't been
aware of.

He dried me off gently, almost reverently, and led
me to bed.
As we lay down, he pushed me onto my back and
draped himself over me, propped on an elbow so we
could see each other. He played with my armpit
hair, twining it gently around a finger and tugging
a little. Finally, he looked at me.

"What was that?" His tone was neutral and I studied
his face for a clue as to what he was feeling.

"I don't know exactly. When I had my tongue in your
ass, I just suddenly felt like I had to have you.
It's never been like that because you always offer
yourself to me when you wanna get fucked." I
paused, wondering what the hell he was thinking, if
he was angry. "I'm sorry if it . . . if I offended
you but it just felt right. I'm not sure I could
have stopped." He didn't say anything, just kept
wandering his hand through my armpit and over my
chest. "Vincent?"

"I'm trying to find the words." He leaned down to
lick my nipple until it tightened, sucking it for a
moment. "I wasn't offended, I was astounded. You've
never come after me like that and I almost shot
when you put the first finger in me." He kissed me
softly. "I didn't know I could feel like that."

"Like what exactly? Was it good?"

"Yes, it was good. What do you think I'm saying
here?" He spoke impatiently, frowning at me.

"Well, so far you've only said it was different,
not good."

"Yes! It was good! It was fucking amazing!" He
paused, his eyes unfocused. "I've never been
overwhelmed by you before. I guess maybe now I know
a little how you felt that first night a couple
weeks ago when I used you hard."

I nodded. "I've always liked it when you get a
little rough with me. It makes me feel like you
want me so badly you can hardly control yourself."

"Exactly. I just never felt that from you. I liked
it, too." He smiled at me and another small knot
was tied into the countless woven strands that made
up the fabric of our relationship. We curled up
together, him on his back, me on my side, my face
pressed to his upper arm. I lay there for a while,
his heart beating under my palm, thinking of our
evolving relationship. Tonight had been something
new, a scenario in which I had a slightly stronger
hand, and I fell asleep with visions of Vincent's
pleasure-tortured face swirling through my head.


- - - - - - - - - -

Enjoying this story? Send me an email and tell me
how much. I always reply. Please use the story
name as the subject. qwb@san.rr.com