Date: Sun, 11 May 2008 19:08:57 -0500
From: fireflywatcher <fireflywatcher@gmail.com>
Subject: Short Grass Prairie,chapter 7

The usual disclaimers apply: if you are under eighteen or sexual content is
illegal where you live, read no further.

I, the author, reserve all rights to this original fiction story, unles I
give written permission allowing it to be reproduced or published.

Please write me with any comments or suggestions
fireflywatcher@gmail.com
I appreciate hearing from you and thank you for reading.

Short Grass Prairie

by fireflywatcher-  Phil Ford

Chapter Seven

Bud Thornton was a very big man, much larger in stature than his sons. He
sat in the dining chair with his hands folded across the high back rail with
his legs spread on each side of the seat, listening. "Mama, you got to
understand",  Justin was pleading. "Me and Wes took Charlie to raise
together. Neither of us is married and might never be", he hesitated seeing
a familiar look in his mother's eye. "Anyways, that's just the way it is, so
get used to it. He can have a grandma or he can do without. That's up to
you." Bud rose and walked out the door. Wes, followed by Charlie, was right
behind him. Charlie stomped his foot a little with each step so his spurs
would jingle.

"You'll learn I don't allow spurs in my house, grandson", Mrs. Thornton
commented, settling the matter. Charlie stepped lighter until he passed
through the threshold to the porch.

"Yes, Ma'am", he answered. At six, Charlie was the spitting image of Wes
from his hair and eye color to the curl of his locks that were also in need
of a trim. Their red boots matched, too.

"So, Charlie, are you going to be a Smith or a Thornton?", Bud asked.

"Smith", Justin answered.

"Thornton", Wes insisted. "I ain't got no kin and this boy lost his once
already. There's plenty of Thorntons."

"Me and Wes bought some land together, too. Jake Pearson loaned us the money
and we'll pay him back when we have steers to sell", Justin added in. "A kid
has to have a place to call home. He has forty acres was his dad's, but that
ain't enough to scratch a living out of."

"I'll cut you out a hundred heifers this fall", Bud replied, "But I talked
with your uncles and we won't split this place to where a man can't make a
good living. It would risk loosing the land. A couple of your brothers and
some of your cousins need to follow your example or they won't get squat.
What you going to call me kid?"

"Is Pop OK?", Charlie asked.

"It works for me", Bud told him. Wes climbed into his saddle and Bud passed
Charlie to sit in front of him. "You be good for your Pop, Charlie and I'll
bring you something from town next time I go."

They rode a ways with Justin following. He reined in beside Wes, "I got to
take those spurs off you, Charlie", Justin told him. "If you spur the horse
on accident in his shoulders he'll buck you and Wes into the dirt right
quick." Finishing, Justin moved to the other side and got the other spur
off.  "Hitting a horse's flanks or shoulders makes them buck every time."

"I'll remember, daddy", Charlie told Jus.

"I just knew that was going to go bad", Justin spoke. "Mama is a hard woman.
She gets her mind set that something is going to be one way and there ain't
no changing it. I need a damn drink!"

Wes let the reins drop over the saddle horn, knowing the little mare would
follow along with Justin's big sorrel. He gave Charlie a tight squeeze. "I
would've moved if it took it, so you could keep Charlie", Wes said. "You and
Charlie mean everything to me."

Justin took a big swallow and handed the bottle to Wes. "It would've never
come to that Wes. Mama would be the one loosing out", Justin assured him.
"Daddy was sold on it, first sight. My brothers and sisters ain't got no
kids yet. Charlie can ride with him, and fish, and hunt. He'll be round to
the house wanting to take him off somewhere all the time. I could see it in
his eyes." Wes took a slug and pushed the bottle back into Justin's hand.

"Don't you let Pop talk you into chewing no tobacco", Wes said, looking down
at Charlie.

"Can't avoid that, Wes", Justin answered. "Have to spit in the water when
you fish so the fish can't smell the man smell on the bait. The big old ones
will stay away from the hook and you'll get a stringer full of little ones
barely big enough to clean."

"I won't chew it 'cept' when I'm fishing, Wes", Charlie answered him.

It was Sunday and they'd just had Sunday dinner at the Thornton home. As
they crossed at the rapids, the water only rose to the horses shins. After
Justin was done at the dairy on Saturday, they'd spent the whole day carting
rock to the new place, for a foundation on the house they were building.
Charlie's little plot bordered the acreage along one side and they had moved
to his house from the one near work so they could get a new house built. It
would be a stone's throw from Charlie's, fed by the same windmill on the
existing well there. It was a short walk back to the house.

"After we change out of our good clothes, you can take the mare to Short
Grass and play with the kids for a while if you want to, Charlie", Wes told
him. "Just watch for snakes like I told you."

"I will", Wes exclaimed excitedly. He was changed in a flash and led the
mare over to the fence so he could climb into the saddle. He could reach the
stirrups from the ground, but it was easier with a boost. "I'll be back
before supper", Charlie assured them and rode off.

Wes tendered while Justin set stones. Justin got his string lines up while
Wes mixed the first batch of mortar. Justin had been at it for two weeks
now, coming home after morning milking and starting a vat of cheese, setting
stone all day until time for evening milking. Two of the orphan boys who
were fourteen and fifteen were adding the rennet and blocking up the cut
curds while he was gone.

They'd set the house into the side of a hill where building a basement
wouldn't take a lot of digging. The perimeter wall was up with a ledge to
accept the floor timbers and several footings down the center to add
supports. Wes kept a rough scaffolding made of straight willow and planks
stretched in front of Justin to keep the work in easy reach. When he was
caught up, Wes tried his hand at setting stone. Justin had tendered and
learned from an old German who'd returned to the Thornton ranch three times,
building for his dad.

A couple of hours in the sun and hundred degree heat had Wes and Justin
needing a cool down. A small spring fed creek passed by down below the
house. It's flow was slowed to a trickle and the pond formed there was
slight in comparison to the pond at Short Grass, but the pecan tree shade
and the cool water did the trick. One flat rock hung out over the water and
they sat on it dangling their feet in the pool. Wes propped himself on one
elbow and traced a line between Justin's nipples in the damp chest hair. He
lowered his lips suckling one and then the other. Justin moaned deep.

"The milk comes from a little lower down", he told Wes. That was all the
invitation Wes needed. He slipped down into the water and bent over to take
Justin's member deep into his throat. It grew thicker and throbbed under
Wes' assault.

"God, you do that so good!", Justin exclaimed. Justin grasped Wes by the arm
pits and pulled him up on top. After a brief kiss, Wes straddled Justin
resting his knees on both sides and aimed Justin's tool toward his pucker.
He eased back until Justin's short hair brushed against his cheeks. Justin
strained to maintain their union as Wes ascended and descended above him.
Finally as Wes splattered his milk across Justin's chest, his clenching
pucker drew the crème from Justin inside him. "When I think our lovin' is
the best I've had, you prove me wrong every time, babe", Justin told Wes.

"You do it for me, too", Wes replied. "Let's get washed off. We've got
supper for a hungry boy, to fix."

Charlie spent the afternoon swimming, too, with Frank, Henry, and the other
children new to the Short Grass family. Following that, I served them all
some home made ice cream. He left carrying a pup in a bag, with it's head
sticking out, looped around the saddle horn. He fell off once, scraping his
knew, hoisted himself back into the saddle, and made it home while supper
was still cooking.

"I got a pup who needed a boy", Charlie proclaimed. "He's a working pup that
herds cows, he ain't no freeloader."

"Jim told you to say that, didn't he?", Justin asked.

"Yep, he said this one's half trained and he's a real winner. He taught me
the whistles, too", Charlie stated. "He said a boy with no dog just wasn't
right, so we got to keep him."

"Did he name him for you, too", Wes asked.

"No, but I'm thinking on it. He said he's a border collie from some place
far away. I'm thinking Cal would be a good name", Charlie admitted.

They settled on teaching Charlie to hunt rabbits with a little .410
scattergun and feeding the pup leftovers if there were any. He'd be allowed
to sleep on the foot of Charlie's bed if he was clean of fleas and did his
business outside. After Charlie was asleep, the pup scratched on the front
door, sat in front of it looking around, and scratched again before Wes
noticed and let him out.  Returning he scratched to be let in. Then he went
front paws down lapping his tongue at the air, like saying thank you, and
jumped back on the bed next to Charlie.

It was the middle of July. Schools wouldn't start again in town until
mid-September. Courts and businesses cut their schedules back to escape the
heat. Sam, Harlan, Rufus, their wives and children, stayed at their ranch
houses. Amy stayed as well unless Nate needed her and Nate did his rounds
starting at the ranch only going in to town twice a week to check on
patients there. Two older orphan boys, who'd chosen to live on their own,
sat the desk at the offices acting as runners to fetch Nate or Amy if there
was an emergency. Rich carried messages to the other men as needed when he
did his sales route. The two boys stayed in a loft apartment at Nate's
carriage house during the week and went to their home on weekends. They were
brothers, fifteen and fourteen at the time.

Charlie had need of a horse of his own because the men , their wives, and
the now middle aged tutor who'd taught them as kids were playing a game of
catch-up in the education of all the ranch children for what remained of the
summer. Wes bought a horse off of Arch and Lance. It's demeanor and
temperament being unknown, Wes rode the new horse to travel to work and
home, leaving Charlie use of the little mare.

He would rise every morning with Wes and Justin and ride to Sara's for
lessons. At noon they quit for the day and he rode home. Cal waited on the
porch as he left and ran to greet him as he returned. Justin would get the
tack and saddle off the mare and they'd have lunch together. Justin usually
fixed supper while he made lunch and ate, so it would be ready and Wes could
help on the house. Charlie did his best to tender, mixing smaller batches of
mortar in the wheelbarrow and lugging stones small enough for him to carry.
Cal sat and watched everything. Sometimes he'd take off after a rabbit and
sometimes he caught it, bringing it back for Charlie to kill. He'd snap the
neck back and the rabbit would let out one last cry.

When Wes would arrive a little after three and take over tendering, Charlie
and Cal went rabbiting in earnest. He'd give Cal a hand signal to stay back,
raise the scattergun and take aim. The shot jolted him some and he'd whisper
to Cal, "get him" and Cal would dash after the rabbit and pounce on it
grabbing it by the back of the neck. Charlie might get a clean shot. Other
times he might just hit it with a few pellets or even miss. The sound of the
shot and the pellets hitting around it gave the rabbit a momentary shock,
just enough for Cal to reach it and grab hold. Charlie would tie the dead
creature on a strand of rope attached to his belt and it was on after the
next rabbit they spotted. Between the boy and the pup, they never came back
empty handed.

Justin joked, "We don't need no cows or chickens, Charlie and Cal can keep
us fed good on rabbit", but it wasn't far from the truth. Justin stopped at
five to do the evening milking. It went faster with the new help and he'd be
back by seven thirty for supper. Sometimes Wes set some stones. Other times
he stopped and went to the house with Charlie. Each evening before bed,
Justin and Wes went over what he'd learned in school that morning. He was a
sponge and well ahead of his age group before he even started regular
school.

With the stonework done, framing the walls, porch, and roof went fast. Then
the roof tiles went down with three nails in each one, the bottom layer
turned up and the top layer turned down and a cap of wider tiles along the
ridge. When windows and doors were in, it was weather tight. The house
resembled the small house at Short Grass but had the conveniences of one
forty years newer.

When September came, Sara had grown to love teaching the children so much
she, the other wives and the tutor, decided to continue teaching at the
ranch and only taught at the college part of the time. Ellen and Louise were
in town on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Mr. Johnson and Sara attended
to their other duties on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Amy would teach the
sciences and  Rufus, being the engineer, would teach the higher maths, all
doing this while continuing to work at their jobs full time.

Of all the other children now at Short Grass, Charlie had taken to Frank and
Henry right off. When all the men went to help Wes and Justin get their fall
grain planted, Charlie stayed with Frank and Henry. He slept over sometimes
and they both went home with him for the night occasionally. He saw all of
the children everyday, but he choose to be with Frank and Henry. If Bud
Thornton came to take Charlie fishing, they went by and got Frank and Henry
to come along, and Bud showed up like clockwork.

When Thanksgiving time came around we had all decided to go north to the
Comanche land, taking the children to get them on the rolls as Comanche,
adopted or not. It was a matter of family even if the only Comanche blood
passed on was through Nate and Sam. Charlie finagled his way along. Tanned
from running around in the sun all summer, with almost black curly hair, it
was easier to believe he was Comanche than the two cotton headed boys he
came with. Swift agreed to put him down as a brother if he'd learn Comanche
as Frank and Henry were doing. We took a whole train car, a Pullman, to
avoid any problems and John had the crew meet us with wagons for the ride to
the ranch.

All the men had taken special care to make the best Comanche buckskin
clothes for us to attend the fall moon festival. I was a little embarrassed
being dressed as I was but when a boy asked me in English, why I dressed as
Comanche, I answered him in Comanche that I did it for my son, my grandson,
my granddaughter, and my partner. Amy had had her baby a month earlier, a
little girl she named Kate. The boy smiled and ran off into the crowd.

The weather hadn't turned really cold yet. It was mild in the daytime and
perfect for sleeping at night, but the water was too cold for swimming.
Swift and I found the men he'd seen in June, gathered in the same area and
doing the same business. Paired or in groups, they were sharing the pleasure
of their bodies. Since the children were running around in the main camp, we
joined in on the fun.

I spread a blanket. Leaves were gone from the willows, leaving only shadow
where the branches crossed above me. A line of cedars and evergreen shrubs
blocked the area from view. I began taking off my buckskins down to the loin
pouch below as Swift joined me. A friend with him was already stripped down
and Swift did as I had. The three of us stretched out across the blanket,
leisurely. "This is Horse", Swift told me, "We knew each other well and met
at many festival gatherings when we were younger." My pouch began to swell
in anticipation. I propped myself up on my elbows and we greeted each other
with just a nod. I'd been showing off my naked butt and turned over to
display the bulging pouch.

"You could have saved me", a younger man shouted at me, pounding his chest
with his fists. "You and Andrew, you could have saved me!"

"He's crazy you know", Horse told us as the man continued to shout. "I give
him food sometimes so he'll go away."

"I don't know you", I told the man. This was not the activity I expected for
the afternoon.

"You know me", he insisted. "I was with Andrew when he took us to the fort
on the Concho. You looked at me and you knew."

"This Andrew, was he a soldier?", I asked.

"Yes, a captain", he replied. "I was still a boy of fourteen summers. He
said he loved me and he left to bring the others here. He never came back.
It was the year after the buffalo died."

I did remember the soldiers, but did I remember the boy? I was young, too.
If I noticed him, it was his looks that attracted me and once he was gone,
he was forgotten. Swift and I had Nate. Only twenty remained of the winter
camp band. It was so long ago. "Maybe I do remember", I confessed. "What
could I have done to save you and what did you need saving from?"

"I told you he is crazy", Horse repeated. "We come to this place to share
our pleasure and he wants to spoil it all. He has land like everyone else.
It grows grass and rabbits. He has no house. He wanders among us begging and
crying. It is enough!" Horse shouted the last of his words and the man ran
away in fear for his life.

Horse was of the same stature as Swift and I. His name did betray one of his
physical traits though, he was hung. My experience was confined to the men
of the ranch. Size varied but none were extremely big. I was fascinated by
his prong. I tried taking it down my throat and at the same time, he
swallowed Swift and Swift engulfed mine. We formed a circle of sorts on the
blanket. Before we spurted, Swift thrust himself inside me from the rear and
Horse plugged him. Shifting again after a few minutes, I was feeling Horse's
monster working it's way inside me. Teat balm helped. More teat balm did
more. Feeling the tickle of his short hairs on my ass cheeks, I commented,
"If you got that beast inside me, take him for a ride", and he began a long
stroke, pounding it to me. Swift worked Horse from the rear at the same
time. I learned my mistake. As Horse drove in, I found I couldn't draw a
full breath, just small gasps of air passed to my lungs. I felt completely
filled up inside.

The effort put a strain on Horse, too. Sweat poured down his brow and his
moans were either agony or ecstasy, indiscernible to my ears. He sawed back
onto Swift and plunged forward into me. The smell of sweat and sex and
masculinity filled my nostrils. Horse began a circular motion with his hips.
I knew Swift was overwhelmed by this because I heard the moans he made that
signaled his approaching climax. For me, the sensation was so intense I
thought I'd pass out. I had no escape. My chest was to the ground and my
hips held firmly in the air, with over four hundred pounds of man flesh
creating the momentum. I don't know who went first. I felt Horse bite into
the back of my neck and his pulse inside me as I spurted the largest load of
my life, spilling it on the blanket beneath me. At that instant Swift began
screaming out about his own orgasm. I lost count of the pulses I felt and
those I emitted. We tumbled to blanket as it subsided and lay motionless for
some time.

"You bit me!", I exclaimed.

"A stallion always bites the mares neck. At least I didn't draw blood",
Horse replied.

"I guess I owe you a bite, then", Swift joked.

"Bite me twice the next time you breed me", Horse answered.

We lay where we fell with Horse in the center. After a few minutes three
young men, in their late teens, took up the challenge and began slurping and
licking on our flaccid members. It wasn't long, with their determined
attentions, before we were hard and ready to go again. The center boy was
constantly watched by the two servicing me and Swift. It took quite a while
but all three were rewarded with a load, if somewhat smaller, of our crème.
All told, it was just a little over an hour after we began our fun. We
dressed and walked back to the main camp with Horse.

"What's the crazy man's name?", I asked Horse.

"Coyote, you know, like the trickster in the Comanche legends. When I feed
him, I usually fuck him. He's got a great ass. I let him stay at my place a
lot. I feel sorry for him. I even like him a little when he's not acting
crazy. Mostly he's normal. Things set him off."

"What was it Jim was supposed to save him from?", Swift asked.

"That Captain Andrew left him at Fort Concho. Ten to fifteen soldiers made
him their whore. They'd fuck him until he was bleeding and he was just a
boy", Horse explained. "They kept him there for two years. One night they
damn near beat him to death. They drug him out of the fort and dumped him in
a ditch. Then they pissed all over him. When he could get up, he started
walking north and didn't stop until he got here. Andrew was no where to be
found. I didn't speak but a few words of English then and I tried asking,
but no one knew who this Andrew was from what I could tell."

"I was supposed to save him from that?", I questioned. "How would I have
known?"

"He probably figured you could of let him stay. You said Swift and the
winter camp Comanche were there. He wishes he'd had a choice. He does the
same wishing with me right now, then he gets crazy. I've got my sister's kid
to raise. He's eight. I've had him since he was two and a rattler got her.
I've been afraid he'd get crazy and hurt the kid", Horse confided. His place
is next to mine so he thinks he don't need no house. I run him off and find
him sleeping on my porch. He ain't hurt the kid or anyone, yet."

"Why don't you come south with us and bring Coyote and the boy? The change
might do some good for all three of you", Swift asked.

"I could. I'd need to get my cows looked after, but I could", Horse
answered.

"We got a foreman and cowboys working for us here", I responded. "They could
watch over your cattle, too."

"I'll think on it", Horse told us.

We found Nate and Amy with the grandkids, along with Frank, Henry, and
Charlie, sitting beside Coyote and Horse's nephew, listening to the medicine
men tell the Comanche legends. The oldest man would tell a part and Coyote
would translate the story. I saw a different man before me. He was quiet and
gentle as he held the boy and retold the words. The three of us eased in
behind them and sat down on the ground.

The medicine man was just finishing the story of how Coyote released the
buffalo into the world from a corral where they were penned up by a powerful
being named Humpback. He's transformed himself into a dog and was taken in
as a pet by Humpback's son. The medicine man ended by saying all the buffalo
were gone from the world again and maybe it was another trick Coyote had
done, that they might be hidden away from the white men.

"We have three thousand buffalo", Swift informed him. "They were caught as
calves and nursed by cattle before the buffalo were gone. We keep them
safe."

"It is a wonderful thing you have done", the medicine man replied. "And this
is your son, here, taught the ways of white man's medicine?"

"Yes, Yes,", Swift answered. "I told you about him at the summer moon. This
is his white father, Jim. We are both his father."

"I have told him about Comanche medicine all day. I need to teach him more
before I die", the medicine man told us. "Our medicine doesn't work anymore,
only the white man's, but things change. One day ours may work and theirs
may not. You need to take more of our sons and teach them the white
medicine. Too many have died."

"I will do my best, grandfather", Swift promised. The old man rose slowly
using a staff and moved toward his shelter.

"I'm too tired to tell any more legends today", he said. "Maybe tomorrow
I'll be rested enough to tell some more."

Coyote hadn't translated after the story ended. It had been a private
conversation, then. Even Nate had lost a lot of the words somewhere while
growing up in an English speaking world. I lacked the fluency, too. Coyote,
Horse, Swift, and Mark, Horse's nephew were the only ones present who
understood the words.

"We'll see him again tomorrow", Swift told us. "It's time to head back to
the ranch anyway. Horse, Do you and your nephew, and Coyote want to ride to
the ranch for the night? I know some food will be ready when we get there
and there's plenty of room."

"Sure", Horse replied. "I'd love to see the place."

The road through the reservation lands was much rougher than the one that
went into Lawton. It was slow moving in wagons where single mounts could
have traversed the distance with ease. As sunset approached the cool late
fall temperatures dropped considerably and the group was feeling the chill
when they reached the ranch. John and Walt had gone to the several houses
and gotten fires lit to warm the interior spaces. Smoke from the burning oak
logs wafted through the air before the houses were in sight. The sounds of
pounding hooves, jingling tack, and the jarring they endured over the bumpy
course, stifled conversation. Even the invincible spirit of joy within the
children was held back in silence. When the delicate smells of various foods
entered the mix of aromas, hope arose and chatter drowned out all the other
sounds.

"We fixed the place up pretty good", Swift told Horse as he held a tight
grip on the reins. "Jim and Jake got everything started down south. The
twenty of our band that were left could have stayed there, but only Arch and
Lance did in the end. Four of us and Luis had been there for a year already.
We missed the slaughter of the buffalo and I'm grateful for that."

"Hell, you couldn't ride far enough or fast enough to get away from the
stench", Horse informed him. "It was like the herds. It stretched as wide as
the sky. There weren't no doubt whites were monsters seeing it."

"Not all of them are monsters", Swift responded.

"Well, you know what I mean", Horse answered him. "Ranchers are pretty much
like the Comanche. We kind a herded the buffalo same as they herd cattle.
Two bunches of a like mind, 'cept the way we thought, we didn't own the
buffalo, just shared this world with them."

"Whoa", Swift called to the team, reining them in toward the barn.

"Ya'll go on and get inside", John told them all. "We'll get the teams
penned and you can get warmed up and eat. There's a fine spread laid out for
you on the bunkhouse table. Now git!"

I didn't hesitate. I'd been holding Charlie and somehow he'd managed to fall
asleep during the ride. I guess he was tuckered out from playing all day. I
stepped over into the buckboard from the wagon bed with him cradled under
one arm and took the step down to the ground.

"Are we there?", Charlie asked, stirring to stretch in my arms.

"Yeah. You hungry?", I asked.

"Wes says I can eat a full meal after I just had one. He says I'm going to
grow to seven feet tall the way I eat", Charlie answered. We enter the door
and I dropped him to his feet. "What they got fixed, Henry?", he asked.

"Everything! I even see some Mexican stuff like Luis fixes", Henry replied,
"But no ice cream."

"They ain't got ice here", I informed them.

"You should get 'em a machine", Charlie told me, "Got to have ice, you
know." The adults held back to allow the kids to fill their plates and get
seated. Before I got a plate to fill, Charlie came back to me. "Pull, Jim! I
want to see if I get a wish!" He held out the pulley bone and I took the
other end between two fingers. Pop! It went. Charlie held it up and said,
"See!, I get my wish!", and went back to his plate at the table.

"You got it all over there", John commented, coming in to join us. "Them
women teamed up and fixed most of it. Me and Walt did the Mexican dishes,
Oscar's wife Frenchie did the Cajun, Ben and his wife both fixed the Black
folks food, and Willie's wife is half Sioux so she did some Indian fare.
It's worth eating a small amount of each dish so you have room for some of
everything."

"Oh man! I've died and gone to heaven!", Chance exclaimed. He and Jake were
circling the sideboard, plate in hand, sampling one thing at a time and
never taking a seat at the long table. Swift and I, and Sara, followed their
example.

"I got to shake my hollow leg every little bit to make more room", Jake
joked. "This ambrosia is better than mama's was. That is the best corn bread
dressing I ever had, too."

"You ate before?", I asked John.

"Yeah, we all ate together at dinner. Everyone took some home for supper and
we laid out this spread for ya'll when you got home", he related. "Me and
Walt waited supper for you."

The beds had been brought up from other houses to give enough sleeping space
in the three houses at the main compound by the bunkhouse and barns. All of
us didn't come, so there was extra space, still. Luis and I hung around with
John and Walt to wash up and put everything away. There was ice in fact,
delivered once a week in blocks for the boxes. We'd put a serious dent in
the food provided but some remained to be put away. Then the four of us sat
a while drinking coffee with a splash of the single malt and a slice of
pecan pie. "If you can ride with us in the morning", I told John, "I need to
show you where Horse's place is located. He hasn't answered us yet but we
asked him to come back to the rach with us for a while. I need ya'll to see
to his cattle and check on his place while he's gone."

"I'm retired from the crew so I ain't got nothing better to do", John
replied. "I'll be here hitching up the wagons anyway."

"You could ride on and see the Winter Moon, but his place is between here
and there or so he says", I offered.

"If he'll go, I'll come along, too", Walt added, and they decided to take
the trip.

When I crawled in bed with Swift, I observed that Horse and Coyote were much
closer than I'd thought before. They slept in the other bed placed in our
room. They snuggled and kissed for a while and perhaps assuming I was
asleep, began to make love. It was a pretty hot and steamy business going on
in their bed. The moonlight lit the room well enough for me to get a view of
Horse's impressive tool in action, from a viewpoint different that being on
the receiving end. Horse leaned against the headboard, legs spread, with
Coyote grasping his hips. Coyote was looking up into Horse's eyes and he
would slide the full length into his throat, gliding his body across the bed
with each stroke, and Horse remaining motionless. Swift was watching too, I
found out, when he slipped his prong up my ass. Somehow the show made our
lovemaking better. When Horse scooted his hips forward and Coyote mounted
him wrapping his legs around Horse's waist, I could see the full length
moving in and out. Their mouth's stayed fused together through the whole
ride. I faced back toward Swift and he filled my mouth with his tongue, but
kept his rhythm going. My hand was kneading my dick like a batch of dough
and when I filled my palm as I spurted, I offered it to Swift and he gulped
it down. He started throbbing inside me and we fell asleep joined.

(continued in chapter eight)