by V. L. Locey
He rained kisses down my back. “I’ll make sure your trust in me isn’t abused. I won’t hurt you I swear.”
I grunted like a feral hog and arched my back. “Someone wants cock. Is that right? You want my dick in your ass?” He moved around, settling his bare ass on my thighs. “I think you need a dick too. A big fat one...”
He patted my right buttock with his cock. I squirmed about like a worm, a horny as hell worm. My cock was dripping all over the coverlet, and I had stopped caring. He played a bit longer, rubbing his prick all over my ass as he talked. God above the things that he said. Who would have thought a nerdy paleontologist would say such nasty things? Not me. I gloried in his dirty talk, craved it, and then softly begged for it.
“Say that again,” I groaned into the sheets when he told me how hot the hair on my thighs was. I asked over and over as he worked two slick fingers between my cheeks and breached my hole. With him sitting on my thighs I couldn’t offer myself up to him as I yearned to do. It was fucking maddening and glorious all at once.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard. Goddamn but you’re tight. You think you can take my cock, Nate?” He worked his fingers in and out of me, the squelching sounds of his fingers working my ass and my huffs filling the bedroom.
“Yes, I can take it. I want to take it. Now, fuck me now! I’m so close.”
The condom wrapper fell to my back, two halves tickling down my ribs. His slippery fingers bit into my ass cheeks as he spread me open. Back arched, face buried in the bedding, eyes squeezed shut, the fat head of his dick found my hole. He pushed in, slow and steady, stopping to let me suck in air.
“Easy, baby, easy, yeah, shit that’s good. Breathe. Fuck but your ass is hot.” He buried himself to the hilt with a sharp thrust that rocked my world. I cried out as I came. Hot pulses of cum dampened the bedding and my belly. I rocked up and back, easing off his cock then coming back onto it, impaling myself as I pumped madly into the coverings. “Fuck,” he gasped, grabbing my hips as I trembled wildly. “So tight...going to give you what you want...Nate...shit. Yeah, milk my cock. Fuck!”
His roar of completion bounced off the walls. I moaned softly, enjoying the feel of his prick kicking inside me.
“Holy shit...Nate,” he gasped, his hands on my ass, pressing my cheeks together. I clamped around him, pleased to feel him shudder as he twitched and spewed into the condom. “Holy hell. Fucking A. Sweet Mother Mary. Shit, baby.” He melted over me, his lips coming to rest on the nape of my neck where he peppered my damp skin with small nips and kisses. “Ah God, your ass feels so good. So good...”
I lay there spent, coated in my own spunk, winded, feeling the first twinges of his lovemaking, and purred like my old barn cat.
“Sorry,” he whispered when I groaned not in pain but pleasure. His weight pushing me into the mattress as it stretched my arms a bit was sweet soft pain. “Let me undo these.” He quickly loosened the rope, his cock sliding out of me. He raised my arms over my head, his fingers working the tingling muscles. I sighed in pleasure, my ass tender as hell, my arms alive with pins and needles. “You okay? Do you need anything?”
He eased off my legs and moved to the side of the bed. I rolled to my side, smiled, and shook my head. His blue eyes lit up. He leaned down to capture my mouth. I threw my still prickling arms around his neck and wrestled him to the bed, my tongue sparring with his. I let him win the match.
“You talk too much even when you’re fucking,” I teased a moment later when we came up for air.
“Stop pretending like you didn’t like it. I heard you begging me to fill your ears with smutty talk while I filled your ass with cock,” he replied, pressing me back into the bed. I went to my back like a ragdoll, sniggering a bit when he rolled to his hip and into my wet spot. “Nate, you creamed the bed.”
I threaded my fingers into his hair, fisted it tight enough to make him wince, then led his mouth back to mine. I was punch drunk, desperate for another round, tender hole and tingly arms be damned. It had been so long, and he was so fucking toppy.
“Mm, shit, we’re never going to get to the custard at this rate,” he panted then threw himself off me to peel off the spent condom. “I need to take care of this.” He knotted the condom, gave me a quick peck on the nipple, then left my bed. He wobbled a bit on the way to the small half bath, chuckling as he went. “My knees are rubbery.”
“So is my ass,” I tossed out then eased my way up into a sitting position. My shoulders complained as did my asshole, but I ignored them both and stood. I found my boxer briefs on the floor and gingerly stepped into them. Then I yanked off the soiled bed cover, wadded it up, and crammed it into my hamper. Bishop emerged, linking his arms around me then resting his chin on my shoulder. I eased back into his embrace then gasped in mild surprise when a wet, warm cloth touched my belly.
“Let me wipe you up,” he whispered and so I let him clean the cum from my belly. He dropped the cloth to the floor then kissed a path from my shoulder to my ear. “Next time I want you on your back, hands tied to the bedposts, and your knees by your ears while I fuck you. Think you’d be into that?”
Oh fuck.
“Yeah, I’d be into that.” I turned around to stare into his eyes. Being about the same height was nice. “Are you into having me under you all the time?”
“Silly cowpoke.” He slanted his mouth over mine. We tasted each other for several minutes then he pulled back a bit. “I need custard to fuel me for round two.”
“It’s probably not going to be as good as it was when it was fresh from the fridge,” I replied, cupping the tight globes of his ass. His cock stirred a bit pressed between us as it was.
“That’s okay, I find that I prefer things with a little age on them.”
I nodded since words failed me and led him to the kitchen, his fingers meshed with mine.
Chapter Nine
Four weeks sped by.
I shouldn’t have been that surprised about the speeding up of time. Being caught up in the manic, lusty bands of a hurricane named “New Romance” tended to make a day seem like a moment. June had arrived with a bloom of wildflowers and the heady rush of an eager, dominant lover in my bed every morning. We’d given up the pretext of pretending to be just friends after the first week that we’d become lovers. Everyone on the ranch knew we were dating thanks to Perry, who still tiptoed around me after I’d chewed him out for spreading gossip about the ranch foreman.
It was a unique experience, odd and yet delightful, to wake up and find Bishop sprawled out beside me, and Bane usually curled up by our heads. Most days we would cuddle. Some mornings we’d fuck or suck each other off. I’d discovered that Bishop loved waking up to find his dick in my mouth. We’d enjoy each other’s bodies then shower together, touching and whispering soft secretive things. I’d cook breakfast. Bishop would read something scientific, his sexy glasses resting on his nose. I’d learned more about paleontology than I’d ever wanted to but hearing him ramble on about a new discovery of a Diplodocus or rant over some new controversial paper in one of his fossilist journals was making up for decades of loneliness. I was enthralled with my young lover yet terrified of what would become of us once winter set in. They couldn’t dig once snow started to fly, and he was expected to be back on campus by the middle of August anyway to start teaching. He was crazy excited about his Therapod Dinosaurs and the Evolution of Birds class. He’d already begun working on the class syllabus. We had two months of coming awake wound around each other and then...
Well, then we didn’t know. The college was only a few hours away, but we’d not delved into the subject. It rankled me not to know, that wasn’t how I ran my life. I was a planner. Bishop was more of a “let’s see where the next wave takes us” sort of man. So while it bothered me, I didn’t push for fear of shoving him out of my life. It had been years since I’d experienced this kind of tender intimacy, and it was too divine to ruin with insecurity.
“...is why I tend not to rush into makin
g a definite call about the sex of a find.” He took a swig of coffee as I tended to the mushroom and cheese omelet I was preparing. “Sure, you can look at the upper hind limb bones and make an educated guess, but there are other factors that can negate using bone length and weight as a conclusive means of sexing a dinosaur. While sexual dimorphism is prevalent in the animal kingdom, I agree with the scientists who are now saying that using something like gharials to determine sex is just too difficult to determine sex from the skeletal remains alone. Unless you find an incredibly well preserved specimen with eggs still in the oviduct, I’d stop rushing to conclusions.”
“But you called your trike Millicent,” I pointed out as I slid the fluffy omelet onto a platter then carried it to the island.
“True,” he said as he looked up from his phone, his blue eyes glittering with the joy of dino talk as he peeked over his glasses at me. “But that was based on my intuitive self and feeling a feminine vibe from the animal. Also, since I was called out by my students, I will now choose only non-binary names and let the science speak for itself.”
“Do you want me to run you out to the dig site before I head to the airport to pick up Landon?” I hoisted myself up into a stool, his knee and mine touching.
“Nope, I’m going to ride that pinto horse Perry is so keen on.” I shot him a look of utter disbelief. He peeked at me then sniggered. “What?”
“Ride the mare who just foaled four weeks ago? As if Perry would allow that to happen. He’s spent the last month in the stables with her and her colt in case they need him for anything.”
He pulled off his glasses, stuffed them into the front pocket of his board shorts, and leveled a serious look at me.
“How long do you have to wait to ride a new mommy horse?” He cut the omelet on the platter in half then lifted his half to his plate.
“Okay just stop. You know the proper terms.”
“I do, but seeing you bristle up is so damn cute.”
“Hmm. Cute. Yes, that’s me. Generally, it’s advised not to ride a mare for six to eight weeks after she foals. If the birth was difficult it could be longer.”
“Can I ride the foal? She seems nice enough and not looking to rip off a man’s fingers.”
“Give it a few years and maybe. For now if you want to ride I’ll gladly saddle up Jezzy. Landon’s a new rider, and he’s very comfortable on her.” The Palomino mare was the perfect horse for a person who was nervous around equines.
“I’m not quite there yet. Maybe before we pull up stakes and take our last shipment of fossils to the lab I’ll work up the courage to get on a horse. I did pet that bison that you rode yesterday.”
“He’s not that big,” I replied automatically although it was a lie. He was a big gelding, standing nearly eighteen hands, which was on the tall side for a quarter horse.
“He’s massive. And surly just like his owner.” I smiled a bit and got a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll take the four-wheeler that Kyle’s brother fixed up for me.”
Will, yes. He’d arrived recently and so far, he had been stirring the pot whenever he could. Perry had gotten him settled in the bunkhouse with the rest of the hands much to Will’s chagrin. Perhaps he thought he’d be bunking with Kyle in a single cabin much like mine. Kyle was my number one as it were and had earned a small home of his own. But Kyle had directed his hellion of a younger brother to the bunkhouse as was fitting a hand. His first night there’d been a minor disturbance between the rowdy nineteen-year-old newcomer and one of the other older hands. Guess Will had to learn his lessons the hard way. Being told not to touch the other hands’ stuff hadn’t been quite enough warning. So when he’d been caught with Martin Bird Tail’s book, a small skirmish broke out. While Martin was only a few years older, he was much bigger. Perry broke up the fight before it got too gnarly, and Will Abbott walked away with a bloody nose and new respect for the Shoshone-Arapahoe men he was bunking with.
Life was full of them kind of bloodied nose life lessons.
***
I met my employer and his husband a little after ten in the morning at Jackson Hole Airport. I was running a little late as I’d spent an hour searching for various socket sets to continue fixing my mangled four-wheeler. I’d padded around the equipment barn, cussing and calling myself a forgetful old man as I searched high and low. There was not a socket to be found. I’d just used them a few days ago to remove the crumpled front grill. Perhaps one of the men had taken them somewhere to work on something. So when I’d left the ranch I’d already been fit to be tied and running late.
When Landon and Montrell arrived in the terminal both of them were glowing and relaxed. They’d taken an extra two weeks to go to Sweden so Landon could play in a charity hockey game with a bunch of other retired players. A few names I knew but many not. Hockey wasn’t my chosen sport, that would be football.
As soon as we pulled away from the airport the boss dove right into shop talk.
“Okay, so I want to know exactly what’s happening at the ranch and don’t sugarcoat it,” Landon said leaning up as far as he could with the seatbelt across his chest. His long legs were jammed under the dash and Montrell was squished between us looking quite uncomfortable.
I tipped my hat back a bit as we waited to exit the airport parking lot. Montrell began humming along to “Alberta Bound” playing on the stereo while Landon waited for a reply.
“I haven’t sugarcoated anything. We had some trouble with poachers once, nothing since. The sheriff’s office has come up with nothing solid and will probably close the case soon.”
“Do you think we should pull the men we put there?” Landon asked.
“Probably. I’ve been checking into the price of long-range walkie talkies for them to use. Bishop has some cheap ones, which would be okay for short-range communication, but I’d be happier if I had a direct line access to him. Since there’s no cell service at that location, we might want to purchase a few sets.”
“You seem particularly worried about the cute professor,” Montrell commented as we pulled out onto the highway. “I also like how your voice softens when you say his name. Is there something brewing?”
I rolled my eyes. Both men were now intent on me.
“We’re sort of dating,” I coughed out about a quarter mile down the road. I’d not told them flat out that I was gay and waited for someone to act shocked. Neither man blinked an eye.
“Is that like sort of pregnant?” Landon asked. Montrell snickered softly.
“No, it’s like we’re sort of seeing each other.” Christ I hated talking about my love life to people. Why was everyone so damn nosy? “It’s a limited engagement run. Now, back to the walkie talkies. They’d be an asset on the ranch for the hands, during fall round-ups and in the winter when we have to send out men to open the watering holes. We also need to check on the Lone Vale cabin and—”
“Whoa, just slow down,” Landon said. “What do you mean limited engagement run? Are you two a movie?”
I glanced to the right. Both men were eyeballing me.
“He’s going back to the university in a few months.” There. That should put an end to—
“So?” they both said in unison.
I stared straight ahead, wishing like hell the drive was shorter. “So he has to go back to the university and I have to stay on the ranch.”
“Have you ever heard of a thing called a car?” Landon enquired. “Or a plane. Where’s the university?”
“We have horses too,” Montrell kindly pointed out. I threw them both a dark look. Montrell pulled his lips over his teeth, but his brown eyes were sparkling.
“UWW is in Alpine. So, about the walkie talkies. They’re a little expensive but—”
“Where’s Alpine?” they asked in tandem.
“Do you two practice that or what?” They smiled and nodded. “It’s close to the Wyoming and Idaho border. Around five hours in the summer.”
“Five hours isn’t bad,” Landon said. I saw Montrell bobb
ing his head from the corner of my eye. “You leave on Friday afternoon and arrive around ten that night. Do the whole weekend then come home Sunday night.”
“That would be fine if I worked a nine-to-five job but there’s no timecard to punch or long weekends when you ranch. There’s no such thing as a holiday for a real rancher!” I snapped then instantly bit down on the inside of my cheek. I glanced to the side. Both men were stiff now, Landon more so than Montrell. “I do apologize. That sounded...terrible. I know you’re a real rancher as your name is on the deed. I meant no disrespect I just—”
“When was the last time you took a vacation?” Landon asked, which startled me. I was expecting him to lash out at my disrespectful tone. He would have been within his rights.
“I...a vacation?” My fingers tightened on the wheel.
“Yeah, they’re those things that people enjoy where you leave work behind and relax. When was your last vacation, Nate?” Landon asked yet again. Why couldn’t we just stick to the damn walkie talkies? “Nate?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Okay, so you clearly have accrued a ton of vacation time since early I don’t remember. I insist that you start taking the umpteen weeks of paid leave starting this fall,” Landon stated as his hubby bobbed his head in agreement.
“But the ranch...” I stammered.
“Will be fine,” Landon was quick to say. “Kyle will cover for you. And I’m here now. I might not know an insulator from an incubator, but I do know that a man needs to take time for himself now and again. And there’s no better time to kick back than when you have a new boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just...” I bumbled mentally for the correct term. “We’re just enjoying each other’s company.”
“Well, you can take time off to enjoy your ‘not a boyfriend’s’ company in the fall. No, don’t argue. I’m the boss of this here rodeo.”
“Yes, sir, you are,” I muttered, my sight glued to the long and winding road ahead of us.
“Right, good. So, now that that’s settled, tell me about those walkie talkies you’re so interested in,” Landon said.