Tag: rural

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

andallshallbewell:

Jesse slid the pillow cases back on the pillows and tossed them onto the bench. Unsatisfied, he fluffed and adjusted them. They hadn’t need to be washed really, but Jake had dripped yogurt all over them. Jesse studied his work and arched his back with his hands on his hips. He sat down with a sigh and leaned against the pillows. The warm sun felt nice on his face, so Jesse closed his eyes. He brought his socked feet up onto the bench and let his body relax.

The next thing he knew, Jess was being gently shaken awake. “Jess.”
“Mnnn. Wha?” Jesse’s butt was numb and his body was too warm, but moving seemed impossible.
“The school bus is gonna be here any minute. I figured you’d rather me wake you up then a bunch of screaming kids.”
Jesse’s dropped his lead feet to the ground and swung himself upright. “The bus? Is it that late?” Jesse blearily looked at his wristwatch and rubbed his eyes; his contacts felt dry. “Oh my god it can’t be that late. I have so much to do today. How could I fall asleep?”
“Because you needed the rest. I think you still do. Come on, go lie down. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”
“No I can make dinner.” Jess yawned so much his voice cracked.
“We’ll be ok without you. Come on.” Luke helped Jess go vertical and walked him down the hall to their bedroom. Jess slumped on the bed like a dead weight. Luke pulled off his socks and began to undo his belt.
“I like where this is going,” Jesse joked. “Even if you smell like horses.”
“Get some energy up later, then we can do something about it. I’ll have showered by then.” Luke bent over to steal a quick kiss and then stole the belt.
“I wouldn’t even care if you didn’t. Man, my contacts are super dry.”
Luke walked over to the dresser; Jesse’s grandfather had carved it. He located a pair of soft cotton pants and threw them toward Jesse. “Put these on, I’ll get your contact lens case.”

Jesse yawned again and struggled to change out of his jeans. Luke was relieved his husband went to bed without a fight. By the time he closed the door, the bus had dropped the kids off. Luke came downstairs to a hurricane of dogs and backpacks and shoes and ponytails needing to be fixed and demands for snacks.

Not even two years married, they were juggling raising their adopted daughter Nancy with the needs of getting their farm started. Then, Covid hit. Luke’s brother and sister in law both died; the couple were against the vaccines. They were also against gay people and “groomers”. But despite the size of the Reynolds family, only Luke offered to take all three of their kids. Overnight, a family of three began a family of six. Although intimidated, Luke was buoyed by seeing Jesse so happy. He’d always wanted a large family and gave up that dream when he realized he would be seeking a husband instead of a wife. 

Having four kids under eight years old in one house though was like living through a tornado every day. The work of the farm never ceased. The first snow had just fallen. There were a lot of worries. About the crops. About horses. About food. About income. But Luke didn’t stress. He took it one thing at a time. They were all together, and that’s what mattered.

Luke reminded the children to put away their coats and shoes properly. He pulled out some beans, rice, cheese, and tortillas, and let them make some burritos to fill them up before being sent out for their evening chores. Darkness was coming earlier and earlier now, and and Luke wanted them to get used to doing the winter chores before it got dark. 

Jesse came downstairs after Elsie and Troy had been put to bed, but before Nancy and Jake. He was promptly rushed for hugs and peppered with questions about why he went to sleep so early. 
Luke extracted his husband from the clutches of the two older children and shoved a bowl of soup and bread in front of Jess. “Energy for later?” he winked.
“Oh yes. Thank you. I will need this.” Jesse devoured it, despite the steam constantly fogging up his glasses.

An hour later, the house lights on the first floor were turned off. The couple were both tired and sore from work, but the urges and needs left neglected demanded attention.
Jesse pulled Luke down to the bed and on top of him. Luke’s bathrobe fell away. Jesse wiggled out of his pajama pants and parted his knees to welcome Luke between him. Luke grabbed a pillow and stuck it under Jesse’s butt, which was sculpted from having spent so many years in a saddle.
Luke rocked against Jesse until he seriously considered just spending himself there and then, but instead reached for the lube to give Jesse what he wanted. Once prepared, Luke pushed the man’s legs back and moved to be inside him without hesitation. He was glad he postponed climaxing earlier. Jesse’s body was hungry for him and it felt like heaven. It didn’t take long at all until the bed creaked and they cried out together through clenched teeth. 

Jesse had been so lost in feeling the waves of utter ecstasy

as Luke moved that he couldn’t feel the bed below him. He had no trouble falling back asleep afterwards. 

Jesse woke up before dawn. Invigorated, he lifted some weights, showered, and let the dogs out. He settled in the kitchen to make breakfast muffins and start food prep for the next few days. Jesse had taken the first batch out when he heard footsteps on the stairs. 
“Daddy?
“Yes sweetheart?”
“Oh hi Daddy. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Nancy. You’re up early.”
“I needed to pee. And something smells really good.”
Jesse smiled. “Made some super good muffins this morning. Pumpkin apple oatmeal with cinnamon and brown sugar.”
“Can I have one?”
“In a minute, once they’re cool. Would you like some tea?”
She nodded. Jesse was determined to teach their children better habits than chugging soda when you’re thirsty. Jesse turned to start a pot of it, and also set the coffee maker for Luke.
Nancy pulled herself on a bar stool. At seven years old, it wasn’t too hard for her. “Daddy?” 
“Yes love?”
She wrapped a strand of hair around her finger. “There were some strange noises coming from your room last night. What were you doing in there?” Nancy tilted her head. “Daddy why is your face so red?”

“Sweetheart, why were you awake?”
“I was reading my Dinotopia book and was looking at the pictures.”
“That’s not something you were supposed to be hearing, and I’m sorry we bothered you. I was having private time with your father, I’ll explain it when you’re older.”
Nancy considered this. “Were you having sex?”
Jesse spilled coffee grounds all over the counter. “Nancy Lane, how do you know about that?”
She giggled. “I know about that stuff. I’m a big girl. I saw Buster do sex to Penny in the paddock this spring. Papa said that’s how Starlight was made. Buster made a lot of weird noises too.” Nancy made an “ew” face and whispered. “I could see his thing.”
Jesse ran his hand over his face. “I am going to murder my husband. Sweetheart, please don’t think about Papa and I having sex and definitely don’t think about horses having sex, ok? It’s not right at your age.”
“I won’t. I don’t want to. It’s gross. I just want to know – I’m not going to have another baby brother or sister right?”
Jesse snorted. “No. Definitely not.”
“Oh, good. I know I wanted someone to play with, but maybe I shouldn’t have asked so much. It’s already noisy with three. If I had FOUR siblings, it’d be SO much noise!” She pressed her palms to her cheeks.
Jesse snickered. She really was an exasperated 40 year old New Yorker trapped in a 7 year old girl’s body. “You’ll grow to appreciate having lots of siblings. Although, it’s nice and quiet in here now isn’t it?”
Nancy’s gaze drifted to the first rays of dawn light emerging outside the big bay window of the living room. “Yeah.” She put her head down on her folded arms on the counter. “It’s nice.”
Jesse smiled. He passed her a cup of tea and gave her a fresh, warm muffin spread with butter. Eventually Luke came downstairs with Troy, freshly changed and sleepy. Luke kissed Nancy; he put Troy in his high chair and came around to hug Jesse from the back. “Hey gorgeous. Sleep well?”
“Like a rock.” Jesse subtly pushed his butt against Luke. 
Luke nuzzled him. “Did you make muffins?”
“I did.”
“Papa!”
“Yes baby?” Luke replied.
“Daddy is mad you told me what sex is. I heard you guys last night while I was reading Dinotopia. You sounded like Buster.” She dissolved into giggles.
“Oh dear lord.” Jesse groaned with embarrassment. It didn’t help that he could feel Luke’s entire body shaking with laughter against him.
“Sweetheart, please go get ready for school.”

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Captions are fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

yellow-wooder:

 via  Gridllr.com   —  gridll your Tumblr Likes!

I watch the boy from the back door.

“Mooooo~” the boy says to our cow.
“Mrrrooooooo~” the cow replies. She likes to come over in the afternoon and say hi.
The boy chuckles. “Moooooooooo.”
“Mroooooooooo~”
“Mooooooo”
“Mooooooooo”
“MOoooooOoooo.”
“MooooooOOOOOOoooo…”

I can’t help it and start laughing. The boy looks over his shoulder.
“How long have you been standing there Sir?”
“Long enough. You know, I read your dossier pretty well. I didn’t know my houseboy had bovine interpretation skills.”
My boy grins wide. “We’re talking about you you know.”
I raise an eyebrow and fold my arms. “Are you now?”
“Yeah, I mean – I can see how she made the mistake. We both see a big hunk of beef.”

I scoff with a groan and roll my eyes so hard they really roll out of my head. “Oh my god.” I turn and walk back into the house. I feel secretly pleased, but refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I can hear him laughing from where I am in the kitchen. It’s bold and full – a nice sound. He didn’t laugh a lot when he came here. Too scared, too nervous. But he’s clearly happy and settling in well. And well, he made a new friend didn’t he?

I peek out the window. He’s petting her and rubbing her ears. Good lord, that’s so adorable. I let the houseboy win one over me. Nothing in the Housemaster Handbook about putting the “pun” in “punishment” for terrible zingers. Unless I think of something sexy and creative…

______________________________
Captions are fictional. Moo.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

gay-purelove:

I.
LOVE.
THIS.
PICTURE.

“Oh there you are, how are the girls?”
Johnnie smiles and puts the eggs in the basket by the sink. “Martha is still jealous that Henry’s picked Samantha, but Samantha’s molting, so perhaps the tides will still turn.” He washed his hands. “Georgia, however, didn’t want to get out of her nest and slept through me disturbing her.”
“My goodness. What a soap opera in the coop.”
“Oh indeed.”
I put a piece of toast on a plate. “Ow hot. Sit, your toast and tea are ready.”
Johnnie sits and yawns. “Thank you. Gosh, there’s so much to do today,” he says.
“Mm, there is, but I find it exciting.” I set the plate in front of him and turn back to the eggs on the counter. “Raw land. So much potential.”
“We’re gonna make a home out of it,” Johnnie replies. He sounds sleepy, but pleased with himself.
“We are. A nice home in the country, what more could a man want?”
Johnnie lifts the corner of his mouth. “Well, spread for one thing.”
I set an egg back down and look over my shoulder. “Did I forget the marmalade?”
“You did.”
“Oh silly me, sorry Johnnie.” I open the fridge and bring the pot forward. Always marmalade for Johnnie. Our neighbor a mile down the road makes a variety of jams and jellies for local sale, and Johnnie is hooked on the orange stuff.

I set the pot on the table. “There you go,” I say. “You know how to use it?”
Johnnie chuffs through his nose. “I think I do.”
“Well,” I reply, “We should be certain.” I crouch down next to him.
“What are you doing, silly?”
I wrap my hand around his own. “First, you pick up the knife – like this. And be careful, it’s sharp you know.”
Johnnie scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You are so silly.”
“And then we kind of just…dip it in, like that. Hold the jar now. Good. Then we put it on the bread and kind of…move it back and forth… “
The marmalade is not quite going on the bread though, because Johnnie is looking at me. First, it’s a look of absurdity with one eyebrow cocked. But then his eyes sort of lose focus and his expression softens. My thighs are starting to burn from crouching, but his pouty lower lip is a fine distraction, and I find myself getting kisses for breakfast.
“MMnnn…mmnn….” My attention slips and my hand falls right on the toast. Our sweet kiss breaks apart when the plate clatters from the uneven distribution of weight, the knife falling to the table. “Oh! Oh, I got some on my finger.”
Johnnie giggles. “You don’t know how to spread marmalade on toast either, you imposter.”
That makes me giggle back. “
Now see here. I am quite capable, thank you. You tricked me by kissing me, and that was not very nice.”
“I kissed you? You kissed me,” Johnny insists. “I am innocent. I just want to eat my toast, drink my tea, and start my day but you had to go make a mess…” He takes hold of my hand and bring it to his slightly swollen lips. I watch, eyes wide, as he licks my finger with that little cat tongue. My cock hardens between my legs as he wraps his lips around my digit. “Oh god, Johnnie!” I gasp. I can’t bear the weight and fall down on my ass.
Johnnie gives me this sexy, coy smirk. “Well look at you, you’re just a mess. You’re on the floor now. We still haven’t finished spreading the toast.”
I swat him on the thigh, then use his muscular leg to help myself up. “Goddammit, you have approximately thirty seconds to finish your toast, because that’s how long it’s going to take me to get the lube.”
Johnnie’s eyebrows go up. “Right now?”
I point to the hallway where our bedroom is. “Right now.” I throw my shirt on the table. “Be right back.” I run to the secondary bathroom to grab the lube. Our master bath is still under renovation.

In the early morning sun, I undress my husband and spread him out on our bed. I settle between his legs and place a hand on his sternum. I pause before penetration to gift his mouth with bruising kisses, and Johnnie tangles his fists in my hair. Our coupling becomes a simple, intimate act, nothing fancy, nothing freaky. Just me arching over him, panting and sweating as I thrust in and out of the best, tight warmth. I slept with three other boys before I met Johnnie, and that night I knew that was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. The one I wanted to be inside forever.

The orgasm washes over us after sometime, and when we’re done hollering, we both go limp, entangled in limbs.
“Wow,” Johnnie says.
“Wow,” I agree, gasping.

Neither one of us mean to fall asleep. We wake up, overheating from being bathed in the sun. Johnnie groans and stretches, naked and sticky. “What time is it?”
I yawn and lift my head to see the nightstand clock. ”10:31.”
“Aw hell,” Johnnie sighs, rubbing his face with both hands. “We still have so much to do today.”
“Yeah, seriously. But I mean, we’re gonna get nothing done today.”
Johnnie turns to look at me. “Why not?”
“Did you see how long it took us just to put marmalade on toast?”

Johnnie throws his head back and rolls on the bed with laughter. Soon, I’m laughing too. Not just at my joke, but out of happiness, because I realize this is the first morning we made love in our new home. There will be hundreds if not thousands more like this, as we live the rest of our lives together.

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Captions are fictional.

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An indentured man heads toward the exit of the barn after performing his morning chores. The horses are nose-deep in their oats and hay. The bay mare and her colt are doing fine. The stalls were mucked. Water changed. The pigs are waking up and wandering toward their outdoor pen. The man turns his head and greets a barn cat dozing on a stall partition. He pauses to give the cat a few pets and a scritch behind the ears, murmuring what a good girl she is. Moxy is their best mouser, and keeps the barn free of infestation. Moxy begins to lick her paws, so the man continues on his way.

Next job is to first wash his hands, then go collect eggs from the henhouse and rouse all the chickens. The eggs will be brought to the main house for breakfast. His stomach grumbles at the thought of breakfast. Breakfast is his favorite meal. There was never enough breakfast left in the foster home he grew up in, and most of his memories of school were waiting out hunger until subsidized lunches were available.

He pauses at the barn entrance and looks back. It still feels weird to him to live out here in the country, to be trusted with these animals, to not see miles and miles of concrete and brick and cars. To hear the grass move in the wind instead of horns and feet on sidewalks. In a funny way, he reckons that getting caught after committing that string of ATM thefts was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Back in the city, the gang he was in was obsessed with territory, power, and money. Well, out here, the man had his own territory. Power, not so much. Money, not so much. Small government stipend in the bank every month. But territory… this is his place. This is his barn. The loft is his bed.The man smiles. Not too shabby.

He glances down at his naked form. Also, getting fit and ripped as hell was a pretty damn good unintended consequence too. A rooster crows loudly, reminding the man not to dilly-dally. He was generally left alone to supervise himself, but one step out of line and the ranch master would appear out of nowhere to put him back in it with that awful whip curled at his side. The man crinkles his nose. Why ruin a fine morning that way? He walks over to the hen house and opens the wooden doors. Fluffy, brown and white chickens spill out to eat new bugs in the dirt, clucking and shaking their feathers.

“Hello ladies, good morning, good morning. Fine day isn’t it?

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Captions are fictional.

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I just finished saying good-bye to the horses when I noticed Mack standing in the frame of the barn. My heart lept. He had been avoiding me the last few days, even since we had gone on that camping sleep over and made love under the stars. I think it was just too painful for him, counting down the days.

“Hey Mack,” I said, ogling his bare chest. I loved him shirtless.
“Hey,” he said, fingering his waistband. “So you’re off?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Just about. It’s long drive to Casper, I’m staying overnight, and then catching a morning flight to Dallas.”
Mack nodded. He knew all of this. “God it’s hot as fuck. We are going to have a great harvest this year because of it though. It’ll be weird without you.”
I took off my hat, sticking it on a stall post so I could take off my shirt and wipe my face with it. I then put my hat back on. “I’ll try to come back and help out.”

“No,” Mack said firmly, putting his foot down and turning to face me.
“…No?” I repeated, confused.
“No. You go off to college and you enjoy yourself. You learn. I’m not booksmart like you. The world out there is too big for me. All I ever need to know I’ll learn from the land and the animals.”
“Mack…”
“But knowing about agriculture ain’t enough. I’ve heard of good farms going down cause of bad books. You get smart, and you come back, and take this farm over from Old Man Pritchard and run this farm right. You hear?”
I nodded, a lump suddenly forming in my throat.
“I will.”
“And come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas ok? Or at least one?”
When I heard the sorrow in Mack’s voice, I almost wanted to tell him I’d stay.
I heard my own voice falter when I said – “I will.”

Mack shuffled in the thing. “And one other thing.”
“Yes?” I whispered.
He paused. “Shit.” He paused another moment and swallowed hard, scuffing up a storm of dust with his boots. I waited, heart pounding.
“I want you to do whatever what you want at college. Because when you come back here in four years, you are going to be mine. Gay marriage will be legal by then, I’m sure of it. And I’m going to marry you proper. But when you’re at college, you live without limits. No regrets. Just…don’t forget about me. Ok?”
I stared at Mack, shocked. My chest felt tight and my face hot. Not August-summer-hot, but like my-heart-was-pumping-in-overdrive-hot. It was all I had ever wanted, and something I’d never thought I’d hear him say; and now he was saying it, and I still had to leave.
When I didn’t reply right away, Mack repeated again in a smaller voice. “Ok?”
I nodded, my hands trembling. “Yes. Yes, ok. Yours.”
Mack exhaled loudly and his shoulders relaxed. “Ok.” I watched his sculpted torso heave, and he turned away from me sharply. “Shit,” he muttered again, and I watched him move his arms in a way that indicated he was brushing tears away.

I had only seen Mack cry three times in my life. Once when he fell off a horse at age seven and broke his arm. The other time was having to put down one of the collies after a coyote got to her. The last was when his mother died. And now….I felt guilt swell up in me. I had put off college for two years after I finished high school. The nearest community college was over an hour away, and I had a short lived career in rodeo to fill the time anyway.
With my winnings, I could finally afford to go to college. I got accepted to a program in Texas. I picked it cause I had rodeo friends in Texas. It was far from Wyoming. Mack had pushed me to go. I realized now that he had to have known what it meant, because he had to have been in love with me from that point. He was the strongest cowboy I had ever met. I knew there would be nobody in the entirety of Texas who would live up to how much I worshiped Mack.

I walked up to Mack and wrapped my arms around his waist. He was slick and sticky and dusty, but he smelled amazing. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled. My hat fell to the dust. Mack tensed, then wimpered. “Please…”
“I will miss you like hell, John MacIntire.”

The dam broke, and we both started sobbing. He turned to face me and threw his arms around my neck. The horses snorted. I don’t know who saw us, and I didn’t look up to see cause I would have been mighty embarrassed.
After a good cry, we both reached for our handkerchiefs at the same time and chuckled about it.
I kissed him, right there in the yard.
Mack kissed me back, and squeezed my ass. I couldn’t believe how forward he was being. It was like being in a wonderful, yet horrible dream.
Mack hiccuped, then bent over to pick up my hat and brushed it off before handing it back to me. “Your dad’s probably waiting by the car. You outta get going. Long drive to Casper.”
I nodded, putting it on my head. “Long boring drive. I’ll text you every step of the way ok?”
Mack nodded. “Bye, Harlan.”
I pulled away from him. He squeezed my hand, and then his rough and calloused hands fell away. “Bye Mack.”

I smiled, then took a few steps back, turned and walked away. I didn’t look back until the car was pulling down the long driveway. Mack was standing in the middle of the road, hand in his pockets, face shaded by his hat. He was scuffling up a storm.

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Captions are fictional.

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“Ya think you can take both of us fag? Damn. We can’t tell if you’re dumb, desperate, horned out of your mind, or all above. I say we should find out.”
“You want his mouth or ass first, bro?”
“Mm. I want those pretty lips first.”
“Hopin’ you’d say that. The ass is mine.”
“Should we hose him off first? He’s filthy from barn work.”
“Yeah let’s do that. Just like when we were kids and washed our prize animal for the 4H fair,” he chuckles.
“Good one bro. You wanna grab the fag or the hose?”
“The hose.”
“Hopin’ you’d say that.”

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Text is fictional.

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(ed note – Lucien is one of my rare reoccurring characters. Prior stories about him can be found with the lucien stories tag.)

“Lucien?”
“Mmm.”
“When was your first time?”
“Having sex?”
“Mm no, with a man.”
Lucien rolled his head to the side and looked at me. “You think I just do this for money?”
“No. But, you seem so casual with so many men. Just men as far back as I can imagine. I was just wondering how it started.”
Lucien huffs air out his nose. “So many men indeed. My first customer was a guy moving from Virgina I think to -”
“No no,” I insist, giving him a little kick in the shin, “Your first gay experience. When you knew, you know, that you liked men.”
Lucien raises an eyebrow. “I don’t usually tell those kinds of stories to clients, stories about…” he trails off suddenly.

“You were going to say your real name weren’t you?” I ask.
“Yes,” he admits. “That boy…he is very different from Lucien. I’m not sure you’d like him.”
I furrow my brow. “But you share the same body. I like your body. I like being in your body…why wouldn’t I like him?”
“Because,” Lucien insists, “He was an angry person. A sad person. Someone who hated the world because of the life he’d been born into. When I …he was seven, his mother got him a big Costco size box of Lucky Charms for Christmas. Cause they could never afford name brand cereal right? And that meant he’d get breakfast for a few days. He ate some of it, then put it on the top shelf to save it for special occasions, like when there wasn’t food. A week later, he went to sneak some in the middle of the night and discovered a mouse had moved into it, as well as these moth things… he cried and cried. He learned that day that life wasn’t fair. I don’t think he ever recovered.”
“Lucien…that’s so sad.” I gave him a kiss. “I’m sorry.”

“See?” he insists. “This is why I don’t tell these stories. They’re not fun, or sexy, or happy.”
“So…the story of your gay encounter, it wasn’t any of those?” I dare to ask. I’m not sure now if I want to know, but Lucien has become a figurehead of fantasy in my daydreams when I’m off at university, and I feel that I must know his full story.

Lucien takes a deep breath and sighs patiently. “I thought…he thought, it wasn’t fair that God made him gay in a very rural, very conservative town in the Bible Belt. So, for a while, he was angry about that too. One summer, he got a little work detasseling corn and washing dishes for a big BBQ restaurant. Under the table. And it wasn’t fair – the other boys were spending their money on comics and sodas and cassette tapes, and those with older brothers got them to buy them cigarettes and dirty magazines; but I… – he had to save his money to buy a new pair of shoes for school, money for lunches, hair cuts. Really good duct tape to hold up the tarps that kept the rain out of the trailer. Nothing ever fun.”
I listened intently.
“There was a boy I worked with. We were both 14. He was a beautiful creature. Very serious face, a strong nose. Freckles. Bony shoulders. He was so beautiful, very distracting. A bunch of boys would go down to the quarry to go swimming after our shifts, but as more of us would wander off to go smoke or hang out with girls, it ended up just being me and him one day. And he suggested that we’d skinny dip because it was so hot. He was so stunning naked, he had the most perfect penis, even at his age. It was going to be just the right size when he was done growing, the right color, shape. I was so envious how he looked like a model, standing there in the dirt, naked with corn silk in his hair.” Lucien chuckled at the memory. “He saw me staring at him, so he came into the water and swam over to me. He asked if I ever kissed a boy before. I said no. And he kissed me. And we kissed a long time. He sat on this rock shelf submerged into the water and he let me touch him. He was so hot, so virile. His balls…Jesus, they were huge. I played with him until the water turned cloudly, then he did the same to me.”
Lucien doesn’t talk for a while. The moment is too tender to interrupt. I cuddle up against him and wait.
“As we were cycling back into town, the other me…he realized something. Life isn’t fair, but even if it isn’t fair, it can still feel really wonderful. And thus, life can be OK, as long it’s by our standards and not someone else’s standards. From then on, he thought being gay was the best thing to ever happen to him.”

“I’m glad you’re gay,” I offered.
Lucien reached over and tousled my hair. “You do love a good dick.”
I snorted and playfully shoved him. “Lucien, did something unfair happen to that boy?”
Lucien shrugs. “No.”
Relief floods through me.
“He moved away. Father lost his job or something. They moved back in with his mother’s family in Tennessee. I’m happy he got out of Cordova, went back to a bigger town, where people can appreciate a beautiful man like him. Last I heard, he joined the Marines. I bet he looks crazy gorgeous in that uniform.”

“You still think of him,” I hear myself say, in awe.
Lucien blinks at me. “I looked him up on the internet at the library some time ago. I just like knowing he’s happy, that his life is fair. Somehow, it makes me happy too. Like the universe has balanced itself out.” Lucien moves his hand over my belly and starts rubbing my half erection through my underwear. “Did that excite you? Are you ready to have sex now?”
“Fuck Lucien,” I gasp. “Even when you’re telling stories, you make me so horny It’s like the pure, unfiltered, raw kind of horny. It’s just not fair.”
He laughs for the first time today. “Not fair hm? But it feels good, right?”
“Yes, very good,” I breathe as he plays with me.
Lucien smiles mischievously at me. “Then by our standards, it can’t be all that bad.”

I can’t think of what to say to that, but Lucien is already reaching for the lube, preparing for the next stage where talking isn’t real necessary.

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Text is fictional. Photo was shot by Markus Bollingmo; the original was in color and the rest of the series (must see!) are at his Livejournal here, actually.

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I was exploring the barn when I saw him. I froze in my tracks and gawked at the gorgeous cowboy reclining against a fence.

“So you’re the new cocksucker?”
“What?” I stammer, my jaw dropping. How did he know about that! I had sucked one cock at a bar a mere hour ago.
He smirks. His dark piercing gaze has me pinned in place. “Word travels fast in a small town. We may be old fashioned but we know how to appreciate a good male cock sucker around here. Especially since our last one was claimed by a bullrider from Oklahoma. Been without for a while now. I was sure pleased to hear you’d be workin’ at this here horse ranch.”

“Um,” I stammer. His lush, velvety voice with that slow-as-molasses drawl is very distracting, both upstairs and downstairs.
“You like suckin cock boy?” he asks.
“Yes,” I admit, scratching the back of my neck. ‘Yes’ is an understatement. The headspace I go to when I’m on my knees nursing their erections is my drug.

“Good. Now go pack the bag I left on your bed. No shorts, bring a sweater for night. I gotta go spend three days inspecting the perimeter of the property, checkin’ fences and all. Mighty lonely work.”
“And this is the company you want?”
“You bet your ass I do. Now, go pack. I saddled up a mare for you. Eleanor and I will wait.”

My gaze drifts from ogling his sculpted torso to the beautiful horse by his side – pure silk and muscle. Three days of riding through the brush, stripping nude and enjoying hedonistic pleasures at night? I swallow, and give a polite nod before running off to go pack. I’ll get his name later.

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Text is fictional. The model’s name is Alex and this was shot for Portal Gay de Barcelona. More pictures here.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Damn…he is gorgeous. That is a man. Who is that? Is that our new neighbor? I don’t remember Ms. Kramer moving out or seeing a sign in her yard. Why is he riding her horses around our lake? Maybe he’s ranch help. He’s riding bareback. That pinto has to be taller than 15 hands but, damn, he’s controlling it with just his legs. Not using the reins at all. Wow, look at the way the sweat gleams on his body when the sun hits him the right way. …What the hell is doing?

Is he unzipping his pants? Oh my god, he is not – …he is! He’s masturbating! On horseback! Shit, he doesn’t know I’m watching does he? Wow… look at the size of his pecker. He’s just playing with it so slowly… god I wish he’d do that to me. Stroke…stroke…stroke…a man like that is probably uncut. I bet he fills out a pair of 501s real nice. Big and huge, and shameless about it too. Gosh, I wish this was a romance novel, he’d come right over and-

Shit, what did I come out here for again? Oh yeah, to get the laundry off the line. Well, ma and pa won’t be home for a bit longer now, I think it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little while longer… besides if I move, he might see me. Gosh, I wish I could be a real man like that. Shit, even if I were even half the man he is, I’d just be a welp in his eyes. I’d be his bitch for sure. I wouldn’t be able to say no, he’d just handle me and throw me down like a helpless little calf. Gosh, I feel oddly warm…

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Text is fictional.