Date: Thu, 29 May 2014 16:25:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tague Micheals <tag.michaels@yahoo.com>
Subject: One Year Gone

I swear to god that this story wasn't meant to resemble Broke-Back
mountain. The idea came to me as I was on a long trip through the stated
mentioned in the story. I started writing it before I even got home and
seriously, it flowed and moved very quickly. Hope you enjoy it, there is a
second chapter coming but I have to finish chapter II of TRAINED or else my
readers are going to lynch me.

~~~~~~		~~~~~~~~~~		~~~~~~~~~~		~~~~~~~~~~

"But Dad," my 13 year old son Colton cried out, "A whole year? Noooo
dad. That's so unfair you can't mean it." He didn't quite stamp his feet
but it was close.

Colt was clearly as upset as I had been when my father informed me that I
would be spending a year living with my grandfather on his ranch in a
western state; a barren and primitive western state I might add. Feel free
to choose: Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, South Dakota. That part isn't of
paramount importance.

"Listen son. You need to understand that life isn't just about New York,
London, Paris and LA. The only way to get a feel for that, to really
understand it, is to live it. I had to do it, your grandfather had to do
it, you have to do it and if you're a smart man, your son will have to do
it as well." I didn't tell him that his inheritance depended on
it. Great-great grand pappy didn't want any of us to lose perspective.

My father had told me as a youth that our family wasn't rich; it was filthy
stinking rich and it was due mostly to his great-grandfather. Apparently
everything the man touched turned to gold. He could spot a money maker from
a mile away and in places that others didn't have the foresight or perhaps
balls to spot. He bought land in Oklahoma that would turn out to be an oil
field. He was 28 at the time. He managed to win a deed to a mine in a poker
game and yes, that one really did turn to gold; and a lot of it. When he
was 18 he and a brother had started a saw mill in Minnesota and before long
they owned an operation that employed 200 men, cutting, sawing and shipping
lumber to a wood starved eastern seaboard. There was also a matter of
thousands of acres of timber that they owned. They also owned a chunk of
the railroad that shipped their product and they built a bank to store
their money.

My great-great-grandfather had lay claim to some 5,000 acres in a western
state. It ended up being filled to the hills with minerals, not the least
of which was copper and silver. He ended snatching up 20,000 acres in
another part of the state and that's where the family ranch was. My father
had told me that when he died, my great, great-grandfather was on par with
the Vanderbilt's, the Gould's, the Rockefeller's and any number of the
other robber baron families. The difference was that you would never know
it to meet him and in fact, few people did.

I, as did my great-grandfather and grandfather have followed in his
footsteps but my dad and I had deviated into the business end of things. It
took a great deal of intellect and skill to manage such a sizable
fortune. My family had traveled a great deal as I had with my son and
daughter. Hence, at the ripe age of 13, my boy was as seasoned a world
traveler as I had been. Clearly, spending a year in a hick western state
was not in keeping with his view of how his world should be. But again, I
had responded the same way as had my dad.

"Don't bother to pack much clothing Colt," my father had cautioned, "a pair
of jeans a few t-shirts, socks and underwear. Most of your clothing will
not suit you well out there and besides you'll stand out like a fart in
church." I hadn't laughed at the joke that was intended to lighten me
up. Fuck, I had thought to myself, I'm not wearing cowboy boots and all
that western shit which was exactly what I'd ended up wearing. Because it
was practical. I was pissed, sulked all the way to airport and gave my
father a haphazard hug when he put me on the airplane.

"You know son that your grandfather just built a new house. From what I
understand it's garnered interest from national and international
magazines. I haven't even seen pictures of it." That was supposed to make
me excited. It didn't. So there I went, banished from society for a
year. It was May 1979. My father knew that I would come back a changed boy
just as I knew that my son, Colton James Koregan III would.

My plane landed at the airport in the largest city in the state where I was
met by my grandfather. "You're growing up Colt, he said, holding me at
arm's length after the obligatory hug and kiss.

"Yeah, I guess so grampa," I said without a lick of enthusiasm. He
chuckled. "You don't want to do this do you son?"  I shook my head, my eyes
focusing on my feet. He put his hand under my chin and raised it gently.

"Neither did I or your dad but I'm going to tell you something. This will
one of the most memorable years of your entire life, I promise you that,
and when the time comes you'll be sending your son to stay a year as
well. Believe it or not Colton, at the end of the year, you may find
yourself not wanting to go back to city life." I sincerely doubted that but
didn't say it. I didn't need to because my grandfather already knew what I
was thinking.

We exited the front door and walked to a car parked at the curb where a guy
in suit quickly opened the back door for us. Once the driver was in my
grandfather told him where we wanted to go.

"Yes Sir Mr. Koregan," the man said and pulled away from the curb. We spent
the next 2 hours shopping for clothes which included 2 pair of cowboy
boots; one for work and the other for dress up, a mesh cowboy hat to keep
the summer sun off my head more than anything else and another more fancy
one. I got 6 pair of jeans, a dozen long sleeved shirts some of which were
pure western, and a light jacket with the knowledge that come fall I'd be
getting a heavier one. There were other things but that's the gist of
it. The driver took us back to the airport but went in through a gate and
stopped next to a smaller twin engine plane. I'd flown all over the world
but never in a private plane so I was a little intrigued as well as
excited.

We got everything transferred from the car to the plane and climbed
in. "You're flying grampa," I asked and he nodded his head.

"Yup. You got a problem with that mister?" His expression was one of a man
ready to fight but his voice gave him away.

"Nope," I said. He said that was good because it was a long walk to the
ranch and if I thought that not flying with him would get me out of the
year of servitude I had another think coming. He got the plane fired up and
10 minutes later we were taxiing down the runway then lifted off. It was a
whole lot different than being in a big jet.

The countryside was amazing and it seemed like it went on forever. If you
have ever been to any of the states that I mentioned you know that the
country seems to be one valley after another or that you can see soft
rolling hills and go around a bend and be in a long valley with sheer rock
walls. The differences were like night and day sometimes.

"You wanna fly the plane Colt," my grandfather asked. My jaw dropped. He
chuckled. "It's easy, take the yoke," and he showed me how. "If you push
forward a little the plane will nose down and if you pull back it will nose
up. Go ahead and try it." Well, I did and we nose-dived. I about shit my
britches but my grandfather was calm as can be.

"Pull it back gently Colt," he said and when I did we headed up and I mean,
up. "Just a little forward and you'll level us out," he said. A moment
later everything was smooth. "See now, you already got the hang of it." My
respect for my grandfather expanded hugely in those few moments. I didn't
know it at the time of course but he could have taken control of plane at
any second if he needed to but he hadn't. He'd chosen to teach me
instead. The man had some balls I'll tell you that. He had me turn the
plane as well and 15 minutes later he took control back. I was beginning to
think that things just might work out okay here.

As I said the landscape was ever changing and as we flew my grandfather
pointed out a variety of things and showed me all kinds of beautiful
countryside. At one point I saw the most incredible house I'd ever seen.

"Holy shit," I blurted out then caught myself. "I mean holy cow." Grampa
laughed and said that language was the least of our concerns out here.

"You want a closer look," he asked I said yes. The house was perched on a
small plot of rock that jutted out from the side of the mountain. Try and
picture an "h". It sat on the arm of the h, away from the side of the
mountain. I say mountain but it might have been a hill although the
altimeter read 5633 feet. It didn't matter much because either way it was a
sheer drop of about 1000 feet to floor of the valley below it. It reminded
me of pictures of monasteries in Asia and sometimes Europe. The house was
huge, 2 stories made of wood and stone and pretty much took up most of the
surface of the rock outcropping that it sat on. A wooden bridge covered the
20 foot gap from the mainland to the house. The front of the house was
practically all glass and I could understand why because the view would be
nothing short of amazing. A stone wall had been built into the rock and
rose up to create a 3 foot high wall around the entire area. An open patio
type of area nestled between the house and the cliff edge. Going over the
wall was a straight shot straight down to the valley floor. To prevent
that, steel poles atop of the foot thick wall were spaced 15 feet apart and
had 3 rows of wire running through them to prevent anyone from accidentally
falling yet not interfere with the view.

A woman had been sitting in one of a half dozen chairs that were scattered
around the "patio" but stood and waved as we made a second pass in front of
the house.

"Pretty fucking amazing huh," my grandfather said as we banked away. I
decided to test him.

"Fuck yeah." He outright laughed at that. Within 5 seconds the valley and
house were behind us and it was like they didn't exist because now we were
back above the rolling hills. A few minutes later we landed on a grass
strip and taxied to an open hanger and parked the plane outside and powered
it off. We transferred my stuff to a bright red Jeep was parked inside the
hanger then climbed in and grampa took off like a shot. I laughed out loud
as we headed out onto a country highway, the wind blowing my hair since
there was no top and no side windows and because of the wind we couldn't
talk so I just enjoyed the ride.

I was beginning to reassess my attitude about being there. Granted I'd only
been there for a couple of hours and that was vastly different than a year
but I had to admit that things were looking brighter than they had that
morning. My father had not given me any advanced warning that this was
going to happen. He sprung it on me then put me on the fucking plane. I
will say this though; I certainly wouldn't want anybody I knew to see me in
cowboy boots, hat and shirt. That would have been mortifying as hell.

"This is all our property," my grandfather yelled and waved his hand off to
his left. The property was fenced by a row of 4 white poles set in stone
pillars spaced about 15 feet apart. On the other side of the fence were the
long rolling hills that I'd mentioned before, hundreds of cattle grazing on
their green surfaces. Further along were huge rolls of hay drying in the
sun and waiting to be stored or whatever they did with them. And up behind
those hills were higher hills or mountains. I wasn't sure which. I would
learn later that basically we lived in the mountains since we were at
moment about 3800 feet above sea level.

We finally slowed and approached the entrance to the property, a gently
sloping stone wall spreading out about 100 feet on either side of
entry. Giant poles flanked the 50 foot entrance and crossed the top and
from the cross bar hung a large ornately carved sign with "Lucky G Ranch"
carved into it, the letters painted white.

"My grandfather's name was Gideon but he quickly earned the nickname Lucky
because he was. He never seemed to lose at any gamble he took and take them
he did. So, he was either very lucky or he was fucking brilliant." He head
up into the hills on a graveled road, a 2 foot high wall of stone along the
outer side that had poles sticking up out of it about 20 feet or so. When I
asked my grampa said it was to mark where the road was when it snowed. That
got me curious but instead I asked my grandfather how much land he owned.

"Well, I own a lot but the Lucky G is about 22,000 acres," he said. "We
raise beef cattle and horses and we also have orchards which you can't see
from here, grow alfalfa hay. We rounded a corner and where we had entered
the ranch was lost from sight.

"Who lives in the houses we saw?" Indeed there had been some houses
scattered closer to the highway and a few as we climbed into the hills.

"My managers and supervisors. I own the houses and they rent at a very
special price. Not all of my managers and supervisors live on the ranch but
many do because it saves them a lot of time and money."

We began passing hills that had random hillsides of rock and as we climbed
into they became larger and more prolific. The full on mountains were much
closer as well, rising up like titans. We rounded another corner and were
all of a sudden practically surrounded by cliffs that towered above us and
around one last corner I got the shock of a life time. Okay, maybe not a
lifetime but a shock none the less. I was looking at the back side of the
magnificent Cliffside house I'd seen. I turned my head and all but stared
at my grandfather.

"You didn't ask," he chuckled. He just stopped the jeep where it was. What
appeared to be a series of garages was cut into the rock cliff beside where
we were parked.

"So who was that woman? I didn't know you were married."

"I'm not; she's my girlfriend, Belinda May." I was surprised at that.

"You have a girlfriend?" He laughed.

"Colt, I'm older but I'm not dead and I need to be laid from time to
time. I'm sure you're old enough to understand physical needs that guys go
through although you're probably relegated to jacking off as opposed to
actual fucking and that probably on a daily basis as opposed to my weekly
exercise." I blushed furiously. No adult had ever acknowledged my favorite
past time, let alone me doing it, or their own sexual activity. "Hey, don't
be embarrassed kid. We're males; we both know how that works. I wake up
with a hard on every morning just like you do.  Plus, you're going to find
out that there isn't a topic that I won't discuss. Are you okay with that?"
I nodded my head. I was okay with it. My dad was pretty open and
understanding but this was different.

We got out, grabbed my bags and small suitcase and walked over the
bridge. I saw a waterfall coming out of the side of the mountain where the
arm that the house sat on merged with the mountain. It dropped about 20
feet down into a pool in the crevice that the bridge crossed then fell
again into another pool before running down the cliff front to someplace I
couldn't see.

"Wow that's amazing grampa. Can you swim in that pool?" I had no idea how
one would even get down to it.

"Sure you can Colt but don't plan on seeing your balls for the rest of the
day." I laughed.

As we stepped off the bridge I saw that the stone wall and patio surrounded
the home so that one could walk all the way around it.  As we approached
the tall wooden front doors one side opened and the woman that had waved at
us stepped out. About my moms' age, she was very pretty. Good for you
gramps I thought to myself.

"Welcome to the Eagle's Nest," she said and extended her hand for a shake
then hugged and kissed my grandfather. We went into a large foyer where a
hallway branched off to the left side and another that went under a
stairway that curved up along the right wall to the second floor. In front
of us, steps led down into the living room. As I had suspected the view was
incredible. The room was huge, had a massive stone fireplace at one end and
the kitchen and dining area at the other. The lower floor housed a library
slash den slash office and a game room with pool table and other things
among which was a movie screen. There were 2 bedrooms at the other end of
the first floor as well as 2 ½ bathrooms on the first floor.

At the top of the stairs the area above the living room was mostly open but
the balcony went around each side to a sitting area that looked out onto
the valley. It was breathtaking. There were 2 more bedrooms along with the
master bedroom and my bedroom and 4 bathrooms on the second floor. My
bedroom in our Hamptons house was pretty nice but this was beyond that.

A corner bedroom, it was huge. All of the furniture was made in a western
style motif of heavy wood and included a small sofa and 2 armchairs and
table, a king sized bed and a huge desk. A large stone fireplace sat
between the sitting area and the bed. The view was better than the living
room because it didn't have the expanse of patio interrupting it. The floor
was hardwood with lots of big sheepskin throw rugs.

I had a walk-in closet and my own bathroom which, like everything else, was
huge. The open shower could handle a half dozen people easily and the
Jacuzzi tub could seat 2 comfortably and there was a bidet. I loved
bidets. The view was just as amazing from the bathroom as anywhere else.

"Believe it or not Colton, this room was designed specifically for you," my
grandfather said. "I really do want you to be as comfortable as possible
during your stay." I went over and gave him a big hug and thanked him. "Go
ahead and unpack your things then come on downstairs and we'll talk about
what you can expect during your stay. That said, he and Belinda May left
the room but before they left Belinda told me to bring all my new jeans and
work shirts down with me and she'd wash them. I asked why and grampa
explained that you wash em with a lot of vinegar and dry them with tennis
balls and it'll soften em up nicely. I'd never heard about that before but
it would stick with me for the rest of my life.

"I am going to be placing you under Smokey's care for the most part,"
grampa started out as we sat in the den. "Smokey is the 15 year old son of
my ranch foreman. He grew up on the Lucky G and knows every facet of its
operation and every acre of land. I trust the boy completely. He's going to
teach you how to saddle and ride a horse, how to shoot and subsequently
hunt as well as dress and cook your game on a campfire. During the summer
you might spend anywhere from a few days to a week out on the ranch,
checking fences, livestock and what have you. Come fall you'll go to school
in Collinsville which is about 25 minutes from here. You'll take one of the
ATV's or a dirt bike down the hill to Smokey's house each morning and he'll
drive you to both to school." I wondered how that would work since the boy
was only 15.

"You'll learn how to move livestock from one place to another, how to breed
and birth livestock. You'll learn how to buck and stack hay, how to feed
livestock in the winter. You'll also learn what it's like to do without the
things you take for granted in the city. It's a simple life in many ways
but its hard work. It's not all work either and there will be plenty of
time for Smokey to do fun things with you. We rodeo around here so you'll
be attending them if not participating. And you'll be paid a hundred a week
but you'll find that you don't need to spend much of it so we'll open a
savings account for you."

"Smokey is a pretty sweet kid Colt, very easy to get along with and I think
you two are going to hit it off well but make no mistake. He is your boss
and he knows his shit so when he tells you to do or not do something, you
follow his directions and you won't come whining to me about it later, you
understand?" I nodded my head.

"When do I meet him" I was told that the boy would be at the house at 6
sharp after dinner. Grampa had me follow him to a large room off the
kitchen. The laundry room and mud room, this is where we come into the
house after a day of work. A rack next to the back door held a variety of
shoes and boots, all of which were clearly used for work. Dirty clothes
could be stripped off and put in the laundry hamper and would be taken care
of. A set of back stairs led to the second floor so we didn't have to tromp
through the house in our underwear. There were also some small bathrobes
for a shy boy like me. I would get over that fast enough.

Outside he led me around the house and showed me an ingenious device that
he'd designed for getting wood upstairs for the fireplaces. It was like a
huge box about 3 feet wide by 6 feet tall and 2 feet deep. It was
completely sealed and rode on tracks built into the outside wall up to the
second floor. A door in the hallway upstairs opened onto the box. Again, it
was sealed tightly. A bug killing gas was released inside the box at
midnight once a week to insure no critters were living in there. The wood
box stayed on the ground floor except when wood was being unloaded on the
second floor. One of my chores would be to insure that box and the wood box
for the first floor fireplaces were filled at all times starting in
mid-August.

Next was the garage which held a couple of cars, ATV's, dirt bikes and
snowmobiles. What I thought was another garage bay was actually the
woodshed and the wood was stacked in rows likes books at a library. "This
way Colt we have access to all of the stacks which allows us to use the
older wood first thus allowing new wood to dry and season. This bay holds
15 cord of wood and as you can see it will need replenishing by August when
the first snow hits."

Every spring grampa bought a couple log truck loads of logs which were
dumped in the "big box", a specific area closer to the front gate. It was
the job of all boys over 8 who lived on the ranch to get it bucked up,
split and stacked, with boys14 and up wielding the chain saws to buck
it. They had a gas wood splitter which boys learned to use by the age of 10
and could work unsupervised by age 12. Obviously the younger boys could
only do the stacking but they also were responsible for making
kindling. The wood was for anyone on the ranch to use and no one abused the
privilege.

"Well, at least I won't have to be mowing the lawn or weeding gardens," I
said. My grandfather laughed and slapped me on the back.

"That's the Koregan spirit Colton although I will tell you that we do have
over an acre in vegetable gardens but the women and girls typically tend to
that although we really aren't role conscious when it comes to chores." We
went back into the house where Belinda said that dinner would be ready in
20 minutes. We went back into the den and my grandfather talked more about
what I could expect.

"Smokey will likely teach you how to drive one of the old ranch trucks this
summer. I hope you're okay with that Colt." Fuck yeah I was okay with
that. He asked me about my life, school, sports, girls and all that sort of
thing. I told him I got good grades especially in math and sciences all of
which he already knew; played tennis, baseball and swam. I hadn't gone out
with any girls so hadn't even been kissed.

"Well," my grandfather chuckled, "that may resolve itself while you're
here." He was quiet a moment then said, "Too, you may well meet more than a
few boys that are willing play." I had heard about boys doing that but
still I was shocked that my grandfather brought it up and once again, he
chuckled.

"I take it you haven't waded in that stream yet." I shook my head. "Look,
Colt, boys engaging with each in one degree or another is pretty
normal. Out here, where boys are out in the fields for days on end with no
adult supervision and plenty of boredom, well, all kinds of stuff
happens. What I'm saying is you will most likely have such opportunities
and you can choose to play along or not and no one will fault you or treat
you differently. Just be aware that behavior does happen. There isn't a man
on this ranch that doesn't know how boys are and it's an accepted behavior,
okay?" I nodded my head. He chuckled and added, "We do however frown on
fucking the animals but we also know that plenty of boys want and do
experiment with that a little bit." Now I was really shocked and my
grandfather laughed out loud.

"You've never heard of that?" I shook my head. "Men and boys have been
fucking animals since time began. Most STD's were transmitted to man in
that way. A guy out in the sheep fields for weeks on end, fucks a sheep
then goes back home and fucks his wife or girlfriend and BAM there you have
it. A couple of things you need to understand in the even that you don't
know them already.

"One is that teenage boys are a bundle of sexually charged hormones, a
physiological fact that cannot be changed or denied. Boys are also very
curious about all kinds of things, especially when it comes to their
cock. Lastly, a stiff dick has no conscious and given a certain level of
horniness their big head turns the thinking process over to the little head
which has only on goal and that is to eject sperm. The when where and how
of ejecting sperm isn't always that important or well thought out. I'm sure
that you've found yourself in such an excited state that it was difficult
to control the feelings and the desire and I'll bet you've taken some risks
say, in jacking off somewhere that you normally wouldn't think of doing
it. That's a normal behavior.

"Around here during breeding season boys often wander away to relieve
themselves. All men know that feeling because they were boys. Hell even
some men get hard watching it but don't do anything about it although I'm
sure that wives and girlfriends get a workout that evening. Watching a
horse shove 3 feet of hard cock up a mare's pussy is stimulating to a
boy. Same with watching dog's, cows or any other animal. It isn't unusual
for 2,3 or even more boys to wander away together for a mutual jack off
session. We all understand that and no one cares." Even having that
discussion made my dick start to harden and I had to work and keeping my
hand off of it. I'm pretty sure my grampa knew.

"If you ever feel the need to talk about any of that stuff or ask questions
DO NOT hesitate to ask me, okay?" I nodded my head then asked if he'd ever
done such things and he laughed.

"Well fuck yes Colt. I was a horny assed boy just like you. I did most if
not all of what I've explained to you although I won't tell you exact
specifics. I will say that I still have fond memories of my teenage years,
especially my year on this ranch and if I think about it long enough I may
have to drag Belinda May upstairs earlier than planned." I blushed at his
admittance. Speaking of Belinda, she called us for dinner.

We went into the dining room and sat down to buffalo rib eye steaks with
baked potatoes and salad. Talk was light and the food was fantastic. We
ended up out in front of the house simply enjoying the view.

Looking over the rim and down into the Valley my grandfather pointed out a
variety of things including the ribbon of water we saw winding its way
along down the valley floor. It was called Lucky Creek, for the obvious
reasons. Much, but not all, of the valley was national park and what wasn't
park was ours. "I'm sure that Smokey will want to take you camping down
there sometime."

"Actually I was thinking of the next couple days," a voice said behind us
and we turned to see a teenaged boy standing there, his cowboy hand in his
hand. He looked to be about 5'10 or so, slender, with dark blonde or light
brown hair, depending on point of view, that was clipped short but a little
longer on top and somewhat spikey. His blue eyes were large and inquisitive
and dominated a pale but tanned face. A small area between his thick brown
eyebrows had some small slightly red spots as if he had zits that were now
healing. He was wearing boot cut Levi's and both were well worn and looked
comfortable. His western shirt was turned up at the cuffs and I could see
blonde hair coming from underneath them. The boy exuded confidence and was,
I decided immediately, extremely cute.

"Smokey, I didn't hear you come up," my grandfather said, offering his hand
to the boy.

"Practicing my Indian skills," he said with a straight face. I would learn
that Smokey didn't joke very often

"This is my grandson Colton," grampa said and I shook hands with Smokey,
realizing a soft but none the less firm grip.

"Please to meetcha Colton," he said. Smokey's voice was deep for a boy, at
least in my opinion and that along with the way he carried himself would
lead me to believe that he was as much man as he was boy.

"Camping on the river," my grandfather asked, following up on Smokey's
statement.

"Yessir. There's nothing pressing anywhere, the weather's clear. Good time
to get Colton on a horse and do some riding that isn't work." Like his
personality, Smokey's voice was soft and easy and sounded, well, kinda
cowboy.

"Got a horse picked out," grampa asked.

"Yessir. Rainbow Dancer will be perfect for Colton."

"Uumm Smokey," I said. My mom calls me Colton when she's pissed at
me. Everybody else calls me Colt." Smokey nodded his head and went on
explain that the horse was a 4 year old Palomino, slightly headstrong at
times but an excellent rider and a good size for my size which was about
5'4 and around 110 pounds.

"Have you ever ridden before Colt," Smokey asked and I said that I
had. When he asked if I'd ever saddled a horse I nodded my head.

"Still plenty of daylight," he said, "how about if we go down to the
stables, I'll introduce you to Dancer and you can saddle him and we'll take
a short little ride." Before I could answer my grampa piped in.

"Good idea Smokey. I'll spend some quality time with Belinda." He winked at
me. I couldn't believe that my grampa just told me he was going to go fuck
his girlfriend. Kinda made my dick start to move. I left with Smokey, who
had put his hat on making him really look like a young cowboy, and climbed
into a battered farm truck.

"Gramps said you might be able to teach me how to drive this summer," I
said. The boy glanced at me quickly then focused on the winding road. He
nodded his head and said

"Yup, I can do that. I was `bout yer age when one of the boys taught me to
drive. No sense putting it off." He was quiet a moment then asked how old I
was. I told him 13 and a half and he nodded his head. "Got moss on the pole
and you ain't shootin blanks then huh," he said with a slight grin. I had
no clue what he was talking about and said I didn't understand. He
chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't be familiar with the way we talk out
here. Means you got hair on your dick and you're shootin sperm." I felt
myself blush again. Smokey reached over and patted my thigh.

"Don't worry `bout it none Colt. There's all kinda things different out
here and I'll teach em all to you. When you start school in September
you'll be a good ole boy and fit in right proper."

"Well in answer to your question yeah, I got moss on my pole but not a
patch and I do shoot sperm although not very much or very far." It felt
kind of good talking about stuff like that. I'd never had any such
conversations with my friends who, for the most part, tended to be somewhat
snobbish.

"I didn't either when I was your age. I'll be 16 come August and I swear
sometimes I shoot myself in the face with the stuff. Best I can do then is
just open my mouth."

"You shoot your sperm in your mouth," I asked incredulous that he could
shoot that far and that he ate it.

"Sure. You never eat your cum?" I shook my head and said that I'd tasted it
but not ate it like ice cream or anything. "Well hell, maybe there's other
stuff I can teach you too Colt." We hit the bottom of the hill and turned
left, heading down another dirt road toward a large building that turned
out to be the stables. We parked alongside a couple of other trucks and got
out. A man came out through the open doors as we approached them and Smokey
introduced him as Slim, and for good reason.

"Nice to mean you Colt. We been expecting you. You're in good hands with
Smokey," he said then shot a wad of liquid into the dirt and walked off. We
watched for a second then Smokey said,

"I swear that man could try to commit suicide by walking through a harp and
live." He paused for a second then said, "Got the biggest I ever saw on a
man though." We turned to continue our journey and he stopped, probably
because I hadn't moved. "Yeah, I've seen his dick and every guy on the
ranch probably has at one time or another just like they all seen
mine. When you're out on the trail you piss wherever you want, you don't
wander off and hide somewhere. Hell there's times you might be shittin in a
trough alongside a man. Just part of the job. Then there's bathing in the
lake or stream or even sponge bathing from a kettle of water on the
fire. If'n you're a shy boy Colt you better get over it fast cuz these boys
will tease you mercilessly if they suspect it. All in good fun mind you,
but tease you they will. If you have to expose your dick for any reason
whether it's pissing or cleaning just put it out there and strut it like
it's the biggest baddest dick in the west. You'll get respect for it, trust
me." All I could say was okay, and into the barn we went.

Smokey introduced me to a couple of other men and another teenage boy all
of whom greeted me warmly. He led me to a stall and introduced me to
Rainbow Dancer, aka Dancer. A beautiful animal, his body was a medium tan
and his mane and tail were white. Smokey showed me how to introduce myself
and let the horse nuzzle my hand and then my face. All the while Smokey
patted the side of his head and rubbed his nose bridge and cooed to him. We
then backed off and he opened the stall door and we went it, the horse
moving to the side for us.

"A thing about a horse, or any animal, is to show them you're the boss
right from the beginning. This big boy knows I'm the boss but you're a new
guy so he's gonna try a buffalo you. We led him out of the stall and Smokey
pantomimed how to get the bridle on him. Dancer balked at first but lowered
his head and I tried the bit again. The third time I put my hand on his
neck and pushed gently and he took it and I slipped the straps up over his
ears and adjusted it. That done Smokey had me lead him outside and into a
very large corral.

One of the other hands put a blanket and saddle on the fence for us then
leaned on the rails to watch the show. We weren't out there more than a
minute when Dancer's cock started slowly sliding out of its sheath.

"I guess he likes you Colt," one of the men said with a chuckle.

"It's cuz he's so purty," someone else said to the crowd and they all
laughed at the joke.

"Well don't think that mean you get a date cowboy," I shot back. That got a
roar from the spectators and some back slaps to the guy I'd nailed who
laughed along with the rest of them.

"Good one Colt," Smokey said under his breath. "They love it when you give
it back." We got the blanket on and I manhandled the saddle up into place
and got it buckled in then shortened the stirrups to where I figured they'd
work best for me.

"Good job Colt. It feels tight and won't slip. Do you know the basic
commends with the reins and your legs?" I said I thought so and to make
sure Smokey went through them with me. I went around to Dancer's front and
rubbed his neck then patted his muzzled. I put my face in close and
whispered to him as I rubbed him. I want back around to his left side and
put my foot in the stirrup

"Better get that boy a ladder Smokey," someone called out. I was up in the
saddle before the laughter died down, clicked the reins and Dancer moved in
a trot around the rim of the corral.

"Don't fall off now," Hank said as I came abreast of where the half dozen
men and the boy were standing.

"I bet your girlfriend says the same thing," I retorted. Well I'm here to
tell you that really got them going. At that point I dug my heels into
Dancer and snapped the reins on his flank and we took off.

The horse tore around the corral at almost top speed and I lay flat to
him. On the second turn I slowed him and angled him into the center where I
stopped then backed him up, circled him left then right then cantered him
back to the edge and took off again. I stopped him dead cold in front of
the crowd of men, quickly leaned over and plucked Hanks cowboy hat off his
head then took off full blast for another turn, stopped the horse in front
of him and put the hat back. I did another circle at a trot then stopped
where Smokey was standing with the group of men, their jaws hanging open,
stopped and spun my right leg up over Dancer's neck and slid to the ground.

"He'll do," I said smugly. The whole crowd roared, clapped and cheered and
I swear the expression on Smokey's face was of total shock. There were lots
of kudos about "good job" "great riding" and at least one "he'll do". That
phrase would become a popular one for as long as I stayed there and the
story of my exhibition and of course the closing statement is still told
around campfires. As we walked Dancer back to his stall to curry him Smokey
said,

"Ya'll got anything else I should know?" I shook my head and said no. He
asked how I knew that Dancer would do what he did. I said that I figured
that any riding horses had basic if not advanced training. I was only
taking a guess. If I had known for sure the horse was trained to rear I
would have done but considering that it's a dangerous trick I elected not
to try it. Smokey only nodded his head.

"You did good Colt," Smokey said later as we approached my grampa's house,
"real good. That earned you a year's worth of respect with those boys and
that ain't no easy task let me tell you." I felt my chest swell with pride
at Smokey's praise. His acceptance of me meant a lot.

Smokey said he'd pick me up at 7 sharp. We'd be gone a few days so bring
underwear and toothbrush or nothing at if it suited me. Inside my grampa
started laughing when I stepped down into the living room.

"I hear you gave the troops a hell of a show Colt." I nodded my head and
pulled me into a big hug and kissed me on top of my head. "Good for you
boy. Those boys will be talking about that for years and I'll tell you
what, you earned yourself a good rep and helped up the family name to
boot. Good Job."

"I put your clothes on your bed Colton," Belinda said and I thanked her. I
told them what the plan was then said I was tired and was gonna go up to
bed. I got hugs again and headed upstairs. Grampa called out that breakfast
was at 6:30 sharp. They sure like that word "sharp" I thought.

In my bathroom I stripped my clothes off then stood in front of a full
length mirror and looked at myself. I thought I was okay for a boy may
age. I wondered about whether or not to get my hair cut short like
Smokey's. The medium brown strands were blonde for the last few inches and
it was getting long, over my large hazel color eyes. Some of the layers
were curling out at the ears and above them but overall the length was
longer than my ear lobes.

I admired my body, which was slender but without a lot of muscle. My belly
was slightly rounded but sloped nicely toward my cock. My hips and my chest
were clearly defined by the ridges of muscle and bone and I had the
beginnings of a 6-pak.

I liked my cock okay. It was a little bigger than the average boy in my PE
class but unlike most of them I still had my foreskin which got a lot of
looks and even a few questions, like what was it like jacking off with
it. I didn't know cuz I'd never jacked off without it. My balls were nice
enough sized and hung low enough in the smooth hairless sac. My pubic hair,
my moss, was a neat little nest of dark brown at the base of my cock and
hadn't spread out too much and I didn't have any love trail up to my outie
belly button.

I cupped my balls and tugged gently on them causing me to sigh. I turned
and looked at my butt and decided that it was pretty nice. It was small and
not flat like some boys but the cheeks were kinda nice bubbles. I reached
back and played with butt, ran a finger up and down in the crack and almost
to my hole. I'd discovered how good my butt hole felt when I rubbed it. I
got to thinking about the one time that I'd inserted a rounded wood dowel
in it I started to get a boner.

I turned to face the mirror and watched my cock rise right in front of
me. I loved watching that. I waited until it was fully hard before grasping
onto it and sliding my foreskin back and for over the now red head. I let
go of everything and went to the shower, played with my dick as I got the
water adjusted then quickly turned it off and went to the bidet got the
water there adjust and sat down. I was holding my balls up out of the way
when I flushed and the warm water squirted right onto my hole and my balls
when I let them back down. My body shuddered. I left it and went to the
shower, got it going and went in.

The warm water cascading down my body felt wonderful. I played with my
balls and slowly stroked my cock as I thought about all the conversations
of the day. Sex seemed to be a primary topic in one way or another almost
since I'd gotten off the plane. It was different, exciting, daring and
embarrassing all at the same time. I wasn't sure about how I'd feel being
naked in front of adults though. Other boys were okay though. Then I got to
thinking about what Smokey said about maybe showing me other things. I
wondered what he meant. Then I wondered about what he looked like down
there. How big was his cock? How did it compare to my own 5 inches of
boner. I thought of him shooting his sperm to his neck and really wanted to
see that. Then I thought about his eating his sperm then for some reason
the notion of me eating his sperm crossed my mind. I stopped touching
myself for a second wondering where that had come from.

I pulled the shower wand down from the wall and fiddled with the sprays and
found one that narrowed down to a small circle. I reached behind me with
it, put a foot on the seat and bent over. The spray hit my hole and I about
shit. Fuck that felt good. It tickled like hell but it felt good. Then I
did the underside of my balls and it really tickled bad. I stroked my boner
while directing the spray and felt my body get ready to cum. I stood mostly
upright so I could jack off and do my hole and a second later my cock
erupted. I almost always kept my foreskin back so I could watch my sperm
shoot out and boy howdy did it. I moaned loudly as my body pumped out 3
squirts of cum then slowed to a dribble. I let the shower wand hang and sat
down because my knees were so wobbly I thought I'd fall over. I kept on
stroking my dick but of course it was much slower and finally I stopped.

"Goddamn," I muttered then finally stood, legs still shaky, and replaced
the shower wand and went about washing myself thoroughly then got out and
dried off and padded to my bed. I set the alarm clock for 6. I was one of
those types that gets ups and gets going when it's time. Still naked, I
crawled in and pulled the covers to my neck and snuggled into the pile of 5
pillows. I fell asleep almost instantly.

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