by JD Ruskin
But I hesitated, and he took over.
“Bend yourself over the table.” He stepped aside to give me room to move, but he was still close to me. His breath brushed my ear as he finished the sentence.
“Dane, I think….” My voice was a shaky whisper.
“I said, bend over the table.”
He grasped my arm and led me to it. With one foot, he kicked away a chair. With his bandaged hand, he pushed my head down onto the wooden surface and kept me there, pressing me down.
I swallowed hard and tried to push the fear away. But the voice in my head was shouting now, telling me to stop this.
My other voice whispered, “Dane, please. You’re scaring me.”
He lifted his hand from my head and moved it down my spine, his tongue and breath following close behind. He paused at the small of my back.
“Scared can feel good sometimes,” he whispered. “Spread your legs.”
But I couldn’t move them. He did it instead, placing a strong hand on each thigh to pull me apart and hold me that way. Every sense I had was focused on those hands. My legs trembled.
I heard his intake of breath. He slid his good hand slowly up my leg, then up my butt, his fingers trailing in my crack. I moaned.
He rested his bandaged hand on my back, caressing my skin with the fingers that poked out.
“Grasp the other end of the table.”
Something in his tone calmed me enough that I could think about doing it. I moved my arms and reached for the edge of the table, feeling the stretch and the exposure of my body to his.
He moved back slightly, like he was taking a long look at me, ass spread and arms and legs stretched wide and vulnerable. I pictured his view in my head, and my cock hardened on the table.
“Nice. Very nice.”
He stroked my butt and balls and fingered my hole, and I thrust my hips toward him, begging for more. He chuckled. Laying both hands on me now, he spread my ass, then mashed it together and spread it again.
“Dane….”
“What, Josh?”
“Please.”
He moved his hands away, and I heard a snap. I felt two cool, slippery fingers push into me, and I clenched against the sharp intrusion. He turned his fingers and withdrew.
“Say please again.”
I wiggled in front of him like a red flag in front of a bull. “Please, Dane.”
“You remember when I promised you that I was going to punish this ass?” he asked soft and low.
“What?”
“In your kitchen, breakfast, day before yesterday. You were being a smartass, and I told you your ass would be sore when this bandage came off my hand.”
“I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t.” The pause that followed was sinister. “I’m taking the bandage off now, cowboy.” It wasn’t a statement, it was a threat.
Goose bumps jumped up on my butt and legs, and I heard him chuckle. He rubbed his hands lightly across my skin, soothing me, warming me.
“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt… much.”
I pushed myself up off the table to stop him. Before I could protest, his good hand hit my ass hard, first on the right cheek, then on the left.
I cried out and fell back onto the table. Dane’s hands were on top of me immediately, holding me down.
“Hands back to the edge of the table, cowboy,” he ordered.
“Dane….”
“Shhh. You’re gonna like this eventually, cowboy. Trust me. ”
He rubbed me again with both hands, taking away the sting.
“You take five more spanks—with no sound now—and I’ll fuck you real good. You can do that. Do that for me. To please me, won’t you?”
God help me, I wanted to, despite not understanding why, despite my fear. “Dane.” I sounded like a bleating calf.
“Five. No sound now. Here’s one.”
I jumped as his hand cracked across me and bit my lip to stop from crying out.
“Breathe deep now, Josh. That’ll help. Here’s two.”
I gripped the table harder and stifled a moan. Crack three came without warning. It was harder than the other two, and my butt burned. My mind raced. I thought I should pull myself off this table and order him out of my house. But my cock was weeping precum all over the table, and my balls ached to come again. They didn’t want this party to end. I tried to figure how to stay silent and not bite off my tongue.
Dane rubbed my ass and back and leaned over me, his breath tickling my neck. “You’re doing so good, cowboy, so good. Just two more and I’ll fuck you. Ready?”
When I didn’t say anything, he nipped my neck. “I asked you, ‘Are you ready?’”
“Yes.” I gripped the table and sucked in a deep breath.
“Good. Here’s four.” It was the hardest yet, and tears sprang to my eyes. “And five.” Another painful smack. I whimpered.
“Shhh. All done. You did good, Josh, so good.”
He rubbed my back and kissed my neck and jaw. I raised my head toward him, and he brought his lips down on mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth, plundering it. I kissed back as hard, begging as best I could for him to take me.
He pulled back, then brushed his lips softly across mine and smiled.
“Now,” he whispered. He was excited, like a kid about to open a present. When I realized I was the present, a thrill ran through me. The burn in my butt was gone, replaced by an ache in my balls.
“I’m gonna fuck this red ass.” He dusted his fingers across my cheeks, but the sensation went straight to my prick. “Your ass is so pretty, Josh. So red and pretty. I wish you could see.” He reminded me of a horseman referring to his prize stud. I moaned.
When he ripped open the condom packet, my balls and hole clenched. He pushed in slowly, so slowly that everything, every feeling, vanished but the thrill of his cock moving in me to take me and claim me. All I could think was how much I wanted him, how deep in me I wanted him. He could have asked right then to brand me, and I might have said yes.
He kept moving forward, bit by bit, till his balls brushed my ass. I felt his cock twitch, and then he began to pull back just as slow. Need and desire clawed my gut. Sweat tickled my underarms. If he didn’t speed up, I would lose my mind.
“Dane.” My pleading gasp made his name a four-syllable word.
He didn’t care. He moved again, in and out in the same slow motion, and I felt every bit of my inner channel like it was separate from me but just as desperate for him to ram me.
At last he did. Fast. Hard. Harder. Each thrust made my skin burn, but it was just another bit of fuel for the fire of want that consumed me. I bounced on my tiptoes to thrust back at him, and gripped the table against a feeling that I was about to fly apart.
“More,” my garbled voice said from far away. “More.”
Dane grabbed my shoulders and leaned over me, pinning me down, grinding my cock into the table as he thrust harder. He bit my shoulder, and I moaned and thrashed, impaled on his cock, held in place by that bite, as he bucked into me. He groaned, then froze and shuddered, his orgasm sparking through his body and into mine. I came right behind him with a loud cry, spurting into what little space there was between me and the tabletop. I clenched my eyes shut and saw stars. My heart pounded. I gasped for air.
When I could breathe again, I felt Dane’s chest, heavy on me now, as he still panted hard. He nuzzled at my shoulder, and the cool sweat from his forehead transferred to my skin. My brain seemed to have merged with my cock and balls, and they were all too happy to object to anything.
Dane sighed finally and rose, leaving my back cold and goose bumpy until his lips swept my neck and then my shoulders and spine. He pulled out of me slowly and lifted me up, and I managed somehow to stand on my feet and turn into him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed myself against the hard wall of his chest, kissing his collarbone over and over.
He cleared his throat, and I leaned back to look up at him. He looked embarra
ssed, and he gazed past my head as he spoke.
“You don’t say anything about the rough sex,” he said in a voice that sounded like he was strangling.
My face heated. Were we going to talk about this? After what we’d just done, what I’d let Dane do to me, I should be ashamed, humiliated even. And I was, right up until the moment I realized I’d never had sex so hot, never come like that before, and I’d do whatever he wanted to have it this way again. Even the spanking. Maybe for him it was part of the PTSD, like his nearly obsessive running and sit-ups. And didn’t I just love the results of them too? But I didn’t have PTSD, so was I sick for liking sex like this? I didn’t want to think about it, and maybe it honestly didn’t matter as long as we both liked it and no one else knew. Enough already.
“Do you like it?” I asked him back.
“Yes,” he whispered, glancing away before forcing himself to look me in the eyes.
I smiled and brushed his cheek with my fingers. “Then I’m really okay with it.”
He glanced at my cum puddled on the table and grinned. “I’d say you’re more than okay with it, and maybe in trouble again soon, smartass. Maybe intentionally in trouble again.” He pinched my butt hard.
“Hey!” But my objection was an act. I’d do almost anything he wanted to keep it like this.
IT WAS the last week of August and the last week of guests. Thank goodness. We were slammed with kids. Every family this week seemed to have six of them. I spent every day all day teaching kids to ride.
At the end of one of them, Sarah banged into my living room without knocking. My aunt had told me she was looking for me. But once I’d finished with the kids and horses and chores, I’d gone home and plopped down in an easy chair with a magazine, too tired to shower or eat or read really.
“What do you mean sending Jesse to ask me whether we’re a couple?”
“Come on in.” I put down the horse magazine, and she kept spitting out questions, advancing closer with each one.
“Why in the world would you do that? What was I supposed to say? Damn it, Josh. Why would you do that to me?”
I sighed. “Sarah, he asked me a couple weeks ago. I didn’t know what to say. Then I thought he totally forgot about it. Honest.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“What happened?”
“What do you think happened?” She slugged my shoulder. “He asked me to go out with him. He’s not going to stop asking until I say yes.”
“He said that?”
“Yes. He told me he knows we aren’t a couple, and he wants to go out with me.”
“You can’t,” I said without thinking.
“You want to rethink that statement?”
I could almost feel the daggers she would have sent my way if she could. I blew out an aggravated breath and stood up.
“Sarah, what do you think is going to happen when Jesse finds out about me?” I started pacing my living room.
“How’s he going to find out?”
“One day the two of you will be talking and he’ll say something, and you’ll forget and just blurt it out.”
“You think I would do that?” She was incredulous. “Josh Brooks, I have kept your secret since kindergarten.”
“You won’t mean to, but it’ll happen.”
“You really don’t trust anyone, do you? Not me. Not Jesse. And how do you know how your brother will react?”
“I don’t know how anyone will react, Sarah. That’s why I can’t trust anyone.” I’d paced to near her now, and I grabbed her shoulders and looked in her face, hoping to see understanding.
“I imagine Jesse will respond like most everybody would. He’ll call me a faggot at best, punch me and disown me at worst. I can’t afford to hope he’d be better than that. Sarah, please understand. I don’t want to lose what family I have left.”
She searched my face for a long while before answering, her voice softer now. “Josh, give your brother and your aunt and uncle some credit. They love you.”
“They love me straight. You think you know my brother better than me? Wait—you’ve been spending time with him already. You’re going to go out with him, aren’t you?” I let go of her and turned away. “God, my life is over.”
She touched my arm. “I want to,” she whispered. “Your brother is a good man.”
Neither of us said anything.
“Josh, you want your secret to run my life now? It’s not enough that I’ve kept it all these years?”
She should have just stabbed me in the gut.
She started crying, and I pulled her into my arms.
“Sarah, I’m sorry. I’m just so afraid. You don’t understand.”
“I won’t ever hurt you, Josh. I promise.”
“Shhh.” I rubbed her back. “I know.”
I swallowed hard, kissed her forehead, and told her what she wanted to hear. I didn’t want to, but I had to. “Go ahead. Go out with him.”
We sat on the couch together after that until she pulled herself together. Then I walked her out onto my front porch. I glanced up and saw Jesse watching us from his. He glared at me, then turned and walked inside. Someday, I knew, he’d do that for a different reason.
Sarah headed for her car, which was parked at his place, and she smiled and waved at me before she got in. I waved back, hoping that if I acted like nothing was going to change, nothing would. But I was fearful.
OVER THE next couple of days, I didn’t see much of Dane, Jesse, or Sarah. Dane had finished Aunt Kate’s laundry room, and she loved it and him. Now she had him working on some furniture project. Jesse and the hands were bringing in the last hay crop.
Sarah had her hands full with all the kids, and I was busy with kids and horses from sunup to sundown. Or I was trying to make myself get some sleep. It wasn’t working. The conversation with Sarah was always in my mind, along with a horrible sense that something was about to blow up.
Aunt Kate finally caught on.
“Josh, you look like you haven’t slept all week,” she said one night as I helped her clean up after dinner. “What’s the matter?”
“Too many kids?” I smiled lamely. “I just haven’t slept much this week for some reason.”
“What reason?”
I put on a happy face. Not like I hadn’t done it before to hide things. “Nothing, really, Aunt Kate. I’ll be fine come Saturday, I’m sure.”
But she was still looking at me like she wasn’t certain. “I’ll do this. You go to your cabin and enjoy the quiet. Maybe that’ll help you sleep.”
“I can’t leave you with all this.”
“Your uncle can help me. Now shoo.” She tried to look stern and waved me away with both hands.
“You’re sure?”
“Go.”
So I did. I headed to my place, avoiding anybody who looked like they might come anywhere near me. I grabbed a couple bottles of beer and settled in on the back deck to watch the sun go down. The wind, which had been blowing all day, had finally stilled enough so I could hear the horses near the barn and even some ravens clacking at each other across the pasture.
After a few minutes, those noises faded away, replaced by voices and images from the past. I pictured the faces of friends from college who had come out to their families. There was Andy. His parents sent him to a psychiatrist when he told them. The doctor wanted to fix him, and when Andy quit talking to him, Andy’s parents quit talking to Andy. He hadn’t been invited home in years. Evan’s family threw him out on the street. He lived with a group of us for a while in Bozeman. We told him we didn’t mind that he couldn’t help with the bills, but it bothered him. He had to drop out of school, and eventually he just disappeared. Nobody knew where he was now. Todd’s mom told him he was going to hell if he didn’t quit acting on his “evil desire.” There was just the two of them, and he quit seeing all of us. Last time I’d run into him, he was going to church, his mom was happy, and he was still worried about hell. He looked like a skeleto
n.
I could see myself being next on the list, losing my family and my horses, having to leave the ranch, everything I loved and the only thing I knew how to do.
“They can’t find out,” I whispered to myself. “No way.”
“No way what?” It was Jesse, coming around the corner of the cabin.
“Jeez, you scared the crap out of me,” I yelled. “Don’t you know not to surprise somebody like that?”
He sat down next to me and helped himself to the other beer I’d brought out. He was smiling, like my reaction was funny.
“What you got to be scared about besides Ray Hanson, and me going out with Sarah on Saturday night?”
He grinned. I felt cold down to my bones.
“So you asked her.” I tried to sound like it was fine, but I could tell by his scowl that I failed.
“This afternoon.” He stared at me now, daring me to say anything. When I didn’t, he added, “I’m taking her out to dinner in Livingston.”
“Have a nice time.” I put my bottle down and grabbed my knees to hide my shaking hands.
“It’d be nice if I thought you meant that. What is your problem with this?”
“How would you like it if I was dating or sleeping with your best friend?” Crap, I was reaching for anything, even the truth.
“For starters, my best friend is a guy.”
I could feel Jesse’s eyes on me. I kept mine fiercely on the worn-down peaks of the Gallatins, as different from the jagged Absarokas as I was from Jesse.
“Well, we’ve always been opposites, haven’t we?”
Wasn’t it the truth? Me, Mr. Deep in the Closet Cowboy, who cooked and had a sensitive way with horses and went into shock when our folks died. And Jesse, Mr. All-Around Macho Army Ranger. Crap, when I thought of it that way, why didn’t he just know?
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth when I asked if you two were just friends?” he demanded. “What game are you playing, little brother?” He put a lot of emphasis on the last two words.
I didn’t like this conversation at all. I stood up and took a few steps just to get away from him. “I don’t know what you mean.”