Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 13:49:50 -0500
From: fireflywatcher_ford <fireflywatcher@gmail.com>
Subject: SHORT GRASS PRAIRIE, chapter ten - end

The usual disclaimers apply. If youare under eighteen or sexual content is
illegal where you live, read no further.

I, theauthor, reserve all rights to this original fiction story. I am
posting all my stories here:
http://groups.google.com/group/Fireflywatchers-Stories
Anyone can read or comment without joining. It is primarily storage for my
writing.

Please write with any comments or suggestion
fireflyatcher@gmail.com

I'd intended this to be a longer story, but after this point many characters
would change. I'll let it rest for now and may continue it later.

PLEASE DONATE TO NIFTY

SHORT GRASS PRAIRIE

Chapter Ten

Adam tore into the barn and headed straight for the tack room. A steep stair
led up to a trap door that opened into the loft. His guitar sat on the work
bench where he'd left it the day before. He grabbed the guitar and ascended
the steps to the higher level. He straightened the blanket that covered some
bales of hay where he'd sat the previous day picking out some lonesome
cowboy ballads he'd been writing. Adam felt sorry for himself. Nobody else
would. He picked out the same tunes again. Through tear filled eyes his
mournful cry of a broken heart echoed the words, sustaining the pitch with a
vibrato from some distant musical style at the end of each line. Empty now
but for a few bales because it was early summer and haying hadn't started,
his song carried through the expanse of stone walls and timbered ceiling,
adding to the strength of the emotions in his voice.

A creaking from the trap door signaled that he had company, but he didn't
look up from his guitar. When he finished the first song, he went into the
second without pause, and then the third in turn.

"Things didn't turn out like you wanted, did they son?" Jake asked him.
"Life doesn't work that way. We make the best of what we get. Some times
what we get is better than we expect and other times it's worse, it never is
the same. That's for fairy tales. You damn sure got better on that guitar
since I heard you last, I'll give you that."

Jake wrapped an arm around Adam's shoulder and wiped the tears from his eyes
with his other hand. Adam didn't say a word in reply. He started another
ballad. When he finished that song, Adam asked, "Did you ever feel lonely in
a crowded room, Jake? Everyone always thinks I'm confident because I'm cocky
and pretty damn smart, and I know I ain't hard to look at. I never let
anyone close enough to find out I'm not. The one time I let someone take my
heart he crushes it in his hand."

"You got to get beat up a few times to learn how to fight and you have to
get your heart broke a few times to learn how to love," Jake answered.

The trap door creaked again and first Chance, then Tom, climbed up through
the opening. "Damn but don't you sound good. You been writing some new
songs, Adam?" Chance asked. "Me and Tom listened for a bit down below the
hay shuttle. You'll have to teach me a few of those songs."

Adam slumped over his guitar. He didn't say a word. Tom got as far away as
he could and sat on a bale. He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin
in his hands, staring wide eyed up at the ceiling. Jake noticed that Tom
scratched at his legs where the hay touched them. He was still in cut off
denim shorts and barefoot. Jake wondered what Tom's reaction would be if his
feet landed in a poorly placed cow patty, and he smiled. Adam strummed out
another song and as it ended Jake and Chance left the two men alone in the
loft.

As Jake passed by Bill and David, he gave them a word of caution, saying,
"Watch your mouths. If you mess with my boy again, you can spend your visit
with the hens at Nate and Amy's. Being polite only goes so far."

Adam and Tom didn't make it to supper that night. They missed the big spread
the ladies put on the next day and didn't show up again for three more days.
I was at the barn when they rode up. Tom was standing in his stirrups. He
dismounted and went directly to the house, leaving Adam to put the horses
away. "Where you been?" I asked.

"We stayed at my mom and dad's old house. I've kept it up and go there
sometimes when I want to be alone," Adam answered. "We got better acquainted
and it was more comfortable without everyone around. I think Tom will need
to rest up a day or two. I wore his ass out. I took him for a hell of a
ride. This is big country. Everything out here is big. Once he gets that
through his head, I'll get him broke in good and proper."

"Just what will learning to be a cowboy do for a doctor?" I queried. I knew
his words meant they'd ridden the surrounding countryside, but they held
that double meaning as plain as day.

"I'm a lawyer now, and it don't hurt me none to know how to cowboy," Adam
responded. "There might be a spell of good health around here. He delivers
babies when the woman has a problem the midwife can't handle. He does
regular doctoring, too, but just delivers babies in the big city."

"I guess it can't hurt," I commented. "Even without the midwives, I don't
think we have enough babies born here to keep him busy. I take it he's not
going back east, then?"

"No, and I won't be going to school in Austin for now either. I'll keep
working with Sam and help out here when there's nothing to do," Adam
answered. "I hope Jake ain't too disappointed. I know he wanted me to get my
law degree, even if I did pass the bar."

"Jake would be happy if you decided to cowboy full time and hang the paper
on the wall for decoration," I explained. "Some folks need their education
to get by or make a decent living, but none of you kids need a damn thing.
You've got land and cattle, and money set aside. If you went crazy spending
money, you'd be broke pretty quick, but you can do as you like within
reason. Your greatest possession is your common sense. Put it to good use."

"Oh, I'm doing that right now," Adam insisted. "Our guests from up north
will be going home in six weeks. If Tom decides he had fun for the summer
but has to go home, I can still go to school in the fall. If he stays, well,
I guess I got him all broke in, huh?"

"That, or he's got you broke in," I answered. "You know, you can get a
medical license by being an apprentice, too. It's harder that way and takes
longer. I bet Tom, along with Nate and Amy, could teach you, though."

"I never gave that a thought," Adam replied. "I wouldn't mind being a
Comanche medicine man, shaking rattles and blowing smoke to chase the demon
sickness away. It might be just as good as modern medicine. There wouldn't
be much call for shaking rattles or blowing smoke, though. If Tom stays here
when the rest go back to Boston, I'll think about it."

Adam got the tack and saddles put away, reserving a saddle bag and a satchel
to carry to the house. He brushed both horses down and got them in a stall
where he put out rations for both animals and took off their bridles.
Charlie and Henry came bounding into the barn with Mark close on their
heels. Questions of "Where you been? What you been doing? Did you get
hungry?" and more can at him too fast to answer. The three pestered him
trying to find out more about Tom and how they were getting along, but Adam
was tight lipped. Any sign of melancholy had disappeared. He seemed even
more confident than his usual self. His disappointment in his first sexual
experiences had been overcome as he adventured further with Tom.

"I hope there's something to eat around here," Adam told us, "Beans and
cornbread for a few days leaves you with a hollow spot inside. Some meat and
potatoes would fill that up right quick."

"I can fix you something," Henry volunteered. "Rich and Matt have been
cooking a big pot of stew all morning and the stove is ready to go. Do you
want some ham and eggs with fried potatoes?"

"Sure, that would be great. If there's stew, can I have some of it?" Adam
asked.

"It's not ready yet," Mark replied. "There are pies and cakes Amy gave us
the other day, though."

"Come on. We'll fix you up," Charlie insisted, dragging Adam by the arm
toward the house. Swift greeted Adam in passing. It was one of my favorite
times of the year. The blackberries were getting ripe. I'd gathered some
baskets and we were going picking down along the river bank. We had planted
bushes near the orchard, but the wild berries had better flavor.

Swift had a blanket, fishing poles, and a bait box, in his arms. "I think
Old Jack can manage these things with no trouble," he remarked. "He needs to
get out some. All he does is bray all day cooped up in the lot." Swift
grabbed a pack frame, blanket, and bridle. Jack stood there without
complaint as he got outfitted. If a mule could smile, he was smiling.

I had our horses saddled and several baskets gathered up, but hadn't thought
about fishing. My method of berry picking was the same I'd used as a kid;
one for the basket, one for me. Swift always ate his fill first and got
serious picking for the basket afterward.

We rode North-West along the bank to an area thick with the brambles covered
in ripening fruit. Mexican plums were ripening at the same time in a thicket
up the bank from the berries. I spread the blanket in the shade of a big old
pecan tree while Swift tethered the horses and relieved Jack of his pack
frame. Jack sat back on his haunches and twitched his ears to chase the
flies away, looking around contentedly.

"Rich killed some chickens to go in the stew they're cooking and I brought
the livers for catfish bait," Swift said. "There ain't a lot, but catfish
are dumb. You can rub it on the hook and they'll bite just because it smells
like liver." He cut off small pieces and baited the hooks anyway. Then he
set the cane poles, pushing the handle into the dirt. He'd cut some forked
branches to prop them against for support and set them in place, too. "We'll
be lucky if the poles don't get dragged off while we're picking berries."

Any other year, picking berries would be done one or two berries at a time
and often leave thorns in your fingers. This year the production was so
lush, you got handfuls and the berries stood high above the brambles. "I
only brought four baskets," I told Swift. The stacked together with the lids
inside and he wouldn't have known.

"Hell, we'll fill those up in no time, "he answered. The held about two
gallons each and true to his prediction, we had them full in half an hour.
We filled two flour sacks with plums and settled back on the blanket
watching the poles. The bank below us on this side of the river was a pebble
beach, full of bead size stones. Some were jasper or agate. The other side
had a deep cut bank and the brush had washed away in the last high flow. Our
side was still lined with brush. The river bottom was about seventy feet
wide and lined with large flat rocks except where a channel flowed near that
far shore. It was like all the other shallow water crossings and we fished
above the rocks in deep water that went from bank to bank. I'd stretched the
blanket against a rise to give us something to lean against. A break in the
brush let us watch the poles from there.

Jack had wandered out on the flat rocks in the river bed. He might have been
thirsty. There wasn't anything green near him. Jack sat there on his
haunches looking around as if he was the guardian of the river. Jack would
turn his head to look at us from time to time. I knew that if he couldn't
see us, he'd start braying and trot back up the bank to look for us.

Swift checked the lines and pulled one cat in, looping the stringer line
through its lip. He added another small piece of liver to the treble hook
and flipped out to the same spot. There was no bobber on the line. The
weight carried the hook to the bottom and only a twitch of the pole signaled
a bite. "I guess that one didn't have much fight in him," he observed.
"Maybe he hadn't figured out he was hooked yet." He'd had the foresight to
bring along a jug and after taking a sip, he passed it to me.

I gulped down a sip and chased it with a drink of spring water from my
canteen. "It's the heat," I replied. "They would lie on the bottom all day
doing nothing if they didn't smell that liver. We always have better luck
fishing at night in hot weather."

I pulled my knees up and leaned forward to look the length of Swift's body.
His belly was still as flat and rippled with muscle as it was when we met.
His hair was all dark and cut short as he'd kept it for years. The only
wrinkles on his face were at few lines at the corners of his eyes. My hair
had a lot of white in it, but that was hidden by being mixed in with the
blonde. I had more wrinkles. My forehead was creased in several lines and I
had the eye wrinkles. White skin showed the time it spent in the sun more
than the creamy brown Swift had.

"To hell with fishing," Swift declared, "I see that frisky look you're
giving me." He pushed his shorts off and tugged mine down my legs, too. We
leaned into each other and kissed for a while. Swift had his arm around my
waist and I curled a leg over his. We scooted down from our back rest
against the bank and were prone on the blanket, now. I climbed on his chest,
continuing to kiss him as we ground our crotches together. "You taste good
today, white boy," Swift commented.

"Use that term loosely, warrior. Boy hasn't been the right word to describe
me for a long time." Both our tools were stiff. I snaked my hand between our
bellies and held them together. It was a wonderful feeling, sliding up and
down against Swift's prick.

We stretched beyond the edges of the blanket as we twisted around. "I want
to nurse on you a while," Swift told me. I turned and engulfed his as he
swallowed me down. Our play wasn't hurried. I was tuned to his body and he
was tuned to mine as only long practiced lovers can be. We hadn't come to
the river prepared for making love. When I came, he held my jism in his
mouth and sucked his own from my lips after he'd given it up to me. He used
both loads to slick himself and my ass up. He lifted my legs over his
shoulders and we joined.

His pace was measured. He'd stayed hard. I took some time to reach my
fullness again. I was on my knees then, pressing back into each of his
thrusts. When I couldn't hold off any longer, Jack started raising hell. I
ignored him. Swift found his release as I finished.

"Damn!" I heard Adam say, "I made a mess all over myself watching you two go
at it. That was a hell of a sight!"

"You want to join in or are you just watching, today?" Swift asked him.

"I shouldn't be horney," Adam confided, "I fucked Tom again after we ate. He
wanted to nap, so I followed your trail down here. I think I'm turning into
some kind of sex fiend." He shed his clothes and jumped on the blanket with
us. We went a few rounds and Adam asked, "I'd like to know what it feels
like to get fucked. Tom won't do it. Can you two take it easy on a beginner
and show me the ropes?"

I went first since I was a little smaller and Swift had cum last. Adam had a
tin of teat cream with him and that made it easier. Pretty quick he was
asking me to ride him harder, and I did. When Swift took my spot we gave it
to him from both ends. He wasn't a beginner anymore. We had to take a swim
and rinse off after that.

Both poles had a cat on them when we checked the lines. I baited the hooks
and Swift tossed out the lines. The three of us sat there on the blanket
passing the jug for a long time. "I came looking for you both because the
boys were pestering the shit out of me. I had to get away from the house,"
Adam revealed. "They wanted to know about me and Tom. I'm still figuring
that out."

"You got over your disappointment. I can tell," Swift commented.

"I could have been a lot like Tom. I had chances if I wanted to play around.
You guys set a better example for me. You found someone to love and stayed
with them." Adam paused a moment, looked down, and continued, "He thinks
liking guys is bad, that he's doing something dirty. I think it's just my
nature. He tries to make up for his lack of self esteem by giving himself to
all takers that come along. It's like getting one more fuck will make
everything better. I showed him one man can give him more than he can
handle. It's wearing me out, but if he changes his attitude, it's worth it."

"You didn't act worn out a few minutes ago," I observed.

"His needs slowed down and mine went up," He replied. "I had to put my mind
in that place where you're being tickled until you're ready to piss your
pants and hold it off with all your willpower. I may have turned into a sex
fiend but I have some wasted time to make up for."

We passed the jug and watched the poles for bites. We brought in more fish
since we were paying attention. All the while we continued to talk. Adam
said that whether he and Tom together worked out or not, he knew he wanted
to do just as we had done and adopt children. He was convinced that raising
a child right could change the world more than anything else he could do
with his life.

Adam was the first child from the ranch that chose to share his life with
another man. Others may have played around or even preferred sex with men as
he did. Adam was honest about it. Time would tell. All the children had a
leg up on life. That was the best we could offer.

(end- may continue at some point in a later time frame)


DONATE TO NIFTY