Back Forty

Back Forty A Torquere Press Single Shot by BA Tortuga He popped the top of his Dr. Pepper and put the pedal to the metal, heading home. The day was hot -- damned hot, even for September, but there was a nasty storm brewing and he needed to get this feed and corn and shit home before it broke. Rusty zipped down the highway, slowing before every place the state troopers tended to roost, his curls sweat-damp on his neck, itching at him. Old Man Ketchum had remarked on his hair, noting that Granny wouldn't have let him out of the house without a trim, that Pappy'd been smooth-shaved and well-trimmed every day of their fifty-two years of marriage.

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Yeah, well, given that he hadn’t had Pappy or Granny or anybody else helping him run the goddamned farm for damned near a year now? Rusty was damned lucky his hair was the only thing out of control. Well, his hair, and the fence between him and the Hendersons', and the house plumbing, and that damned bull that kept coming up lame, and Miss Pol, who insisted on biting every damned colt she got stabled next to. Old bitch. Something was smoking like all get out up ahead and he slowed, peering to see what was burning. He damned near passed right by when he saw it was a stranger, but his better nature kicked at him and he pulled over. Once that storm hit, there'd be no one on this stretch of road, and Granny'd roll in her grave to think he'd just left some guy to fate. He killed the engine and stepped out, tipping his hat, hand near enough to his bowie -decent, but not stupid. "Howdy. Anything I can do to help?" "You got a gun?" came the instant reply. "I'm gonna shoot this old bitch and leave her here to die." The fella that belonged to the voice stepped out and turned to grin at him, tipping a battered old straw Stetson back to show him a lean, tanned face and a flash of a white smile. He chuckled and tilted his head towards his gun rack. "I do, but I tell you what, I'm not sure the buckshot'd get past the steam. Where you headed?" "Wherever the next town is. Gotta tell ya, you got a whole lotta state down this way. I sure would appreciate a ride." Well, the man didn't look like a crazed killer or anything. Those boots were down at the heel a bit, but well loved, and the clothes were neat, if worn. "Oh, good Lord, you've got a travel in front of you and a bad-ass storm nipping your

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heels." He shook his head. "You're a fair piece from Abilene and looks like you've prolly seen San Angelo. Tell you what, let's haul your hunk of junk down to my place, let her cool down. Worse comes to worse, I can see if someone in Potosi's headed up north this evening, yeah?" The man looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, holding out one hand to shake. "Much obliged. Name's Anthony Wayne, but Wayne'll do." "Rusty Hamilton." He shook quick, then turned to grab a length of chain from his toolbox. "I'd usually spend a bit jawing, but my pocketbook needs this feed in the barn afore the storm hits, and I'd not feel right just abandoning you here. You can call Sheriff Malone when we hit the house, if you're nervous. He'll vouch for me. Well, he'll vouch for my granddaddy, I'm still new meat." He handed Wayne the free end of the chain, attaching his end to the trailer hitch. See God? A good deed. I'm doing a good deed. Please let the barn roof weather the storm. Easy as pie, Wayne fell in beside him to help, shoving the hood down on the brokendown truck and helping him set up to tow. "Let's get a move on, then. Can smell the rain coming." A quick grin and a wink came his way, and Wayne hopped into the poor old thing to steer as he pulled. That beat-up hat popped out at him from the window. "But we'll beat it. Don't you worry." He nodded. "Flash your lights if you get into trouble. We're going another ten miles, give or take." "Got it." He got a thumbs-up. Randy hopped in his truck and cranked her, easing out until the Chevy started rolling behind. They went easy, making it down the highway in good time. He signaled well

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before the turn into the driveway, stopping to unlock the gate, the raindrops just beginning to fall. By the time they'd pulled up, relocked the gate, and driven down to the barns, the rain was more than threatening. Damnit. There wasn't any discussion. Wayne just pitched in and helped him get everything where it needed to go, with as little rain damage as possible to his feed. Man knew his way around a barn well enough and had a strong back, besides. They poured the wet bags out into the feeders, the critters pushing and wrestling to get to it. "Thanks for the help, man. Looks like we saved it all." "Least I could do, since you were racing the storm thanks to me." Wayne took off his hat and shook water out of overlong blonde curls, smiling at him, clapping him on the shoulder. "'Sides, it felt good to do something besides drive and listen to myself mumble." "You been on the road a while?" He grinned back, forcing himself not to take a nice long look. "Seems like a long damned time, for sure. Faithless old bitch of a truck seemed like it broke down every fifty miles or so. I think she's good and dead now, though." "That's shit luck. Sounds like you could sure use a beer, man. Come on in. I'll rustle up some longnecks." He had the better part of a six-pack in the icebox, along with enough ham and cheese for sandwiches for two. "Oh, damn. That sounds good." That grin went downright blinding, and Wayne looked a good five years younger and a lot less tired. "I'm gonna owe you big, kid."

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"What comes around goes around, yeah?" He couldn't help smiling back, pushing the pups out of the way and pointing to the back door through the downpour. "Third step up is broke-dick, don't get caught up on it. You ready to run for it?" "You bet. Lead me to it." Another one of those damned stunning smiles followed him all the way to the house. They made it in without dying or breaking anything, and Rusty pointed to the old table before pulling out two beers and grabbing two clean towels off the dryer. One day, he'd put the laundry up where it went. Maybe. "Here you go, Wayne." He pulled out a chair and sat, wiping his face and drying his hair a bit. "Thanks." Hooking a chair around backward, Wayne sat and started drying off, popping the beer open and taking a long draw off the bottle. "Now that hits the spot." He popped the top of his own beer and drank deep. Oh, yeah. Damn. "No shit. Damn, there's nothing like a cold beer." "Yeah." The label of Wayne's bottle got peeled off in long strips, the man's expression turning wry. "Nice to have someone to drink it with, too." Wayne laughed. "Not that I'm meaning to sound all new-best-friend like." Rusty nodded. "There's something damned odd about drinking alone, makes a fella nervous."

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He watched those fingers, allowing himself a second of private fantasies -- he reckoned he was allowed, once a year or so. With a stranger. Who didn't even know. "You know it. Any man who drinks alone either has something to hide or no one worth knowing." There. That was what made that smile stand out. Dimples. The man had dimples a mile deep. "I got nothing much to hide, but I left my friends back in Austin and have only been here on Granny's farm a year. I'm still a foreigner." "Ah. Small town blues, yeah?" Wayne nodded. "I hear ya. My hometown has 251 people. Well, 252 according to mom. Anna Kopekne had a baby last week." Wayne's stomach grumbled just then, loud enough to make him jump. "Well, I grew up here, but left for college. Didn't reckon I'd be back." He stood up, grabbed a loaf of Wonder bread and tossed it over. "I got ham and cheese. You want mustard or salad dressing?" "Mustard sounds good. And, uh. You got a bathroom? It's been awhile since the last rest stop." "Down the hall, second door on the left." He managed to get the mustard and the sandwich-fixings on the table before he had sense

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enough to worry whether those jack-off books Mark and Leo'd send him up from Austin were hid proper in the magazine basket. Oh. Oh, shit. Surely he had put them up under the newspaper and the Texas Monthly after the last time he'd... Which was just first thing this morning... Right before he'd headed out to do chores and run to town... Oh, shit. Well, Wayne didn't look anything but easy when he came back from the john, so maybe he'd hidden them after all. 'Course if the man was desperate to go, he might not have looked at all, anyway. Rusty closed his eyes and said the littlest prayer of thanks as he dug through the pantry for some chips, finding a half-bag in the back. "Found some chips. You want some?" "Hey, that'd be great. Anything I can do? I promise, I washed my hands." Damn, he was imagining things, 'cause he could swear Wayne brushed his ass in passing. "Uh...grab the paper towels?" No getting all puffy before company, Rus. Come on. Think mud and baseball and spoiled eggs. "Sure." Though it was a lot nicer to think of lean legs in an old pair of Wranglers as Wayne stretched over the counter to grab the roll of towels. Maybe sitting down was his best bet, 'cause he was twitchy as a flea on a short-haired

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dog. He grabbed a butter knife and sat, spreading yellow mustard on the bread, ignoring his stubborn prick that insisted that Wayne was something worth waking up for. They munched companionably, and he had to wonder. If Wayne made noises like that over ham and cheese and barbeque chips, what would the man do for a cheeseburger? Rusty was sitting, trying to find a polite way of asking where Wayne was headed, what the man was searching for, when the sky went pitch black. He looked out the kitchen window, wincing as the lightning hit and the house shook with the thunder. "Shit! That's a fierce damned storm." "You got anything out that needs in? 'Cause I hate to invite myself, but I don't imagine I'm going anywhere tonight, so I could help tie down." He frowned, "I reckon I ought to make sure the horses are all home. The heifers'll manage and the goat barn's open. We'd best dig up some candles, too. Our electricity's sure to..." His voice trailed off as the lights flickered out. "Yeah. Candles." "Yeah." He couldn't see, but he could definitely hear the laughter in Wayne's voice. "Well, it could be worse. I coulda been a five hundred pound redneck named Bubba, yeah? I'm much better company than that would be." He started laughing, standing to stumble over to the junk drawer. "Oh, I'm thinking your company's just fine, Wayne." Rusty reckoned his cheeks were gonna be lit up well enough to light the kitchen, he wasn't careful. "Yeah. I'm thinking it is, too." And Rusty about burned his finger off with the match when Wayne went on. "And you even have good reading material in the john."

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"Th...that Texas Monthly's a damned fine magazine." Oh, fuck. Oh. Fuck. Fuck. He managed to get the candle lit, hands only shaking a little. "Yup." Ever so helpful, Wayne took the candle from him and lit another. "So's Blueboy." "I..." Rusty swallowed hard, kept his head up. This was his house. His could read what he wanted. "They manage to spell most things right." "I'm just giving you a hard time." The light was strong enough to see by, and Wayne was serious all of a sudden, eyes very dark in the chancy half light of the candles. "Man's got a right to do whatever he wants, kid." "Yeah. Well, a man's got a lot more right in Austin than here." He offered Wayne a wry grin. "I'm usually better at shoving them down in case of company." "Now that would have been a damned shame, 'cause at least I know now that I won't have to watch every word that pops out of my mouth. You got a flashlight? These candles won't make the horse barn." Wayne started rummaging through drawers and cabinets. "Oh. Yeah. Here, under the sink." He bent down, digging through the dish soap and glass cleaner for the two flashlights up under there. When he popped back up, Wayne just stood there, staring at him like some soon-to-beroad-kill critter. "Found them." He blinked, turning around, looking behind him. "You see a snake or something?"

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"No." There was much throat clearing and shifting from foot to foot. "Right. Horses. Storm?" "Yeah." He nodded. "There's seven -- five colts, a gelding, and the meanest old bitch mare in the world, Miss Pol. If a white one comes up at you, watch out. She bites." Rusty rubbed his ass playfully. "I reckon one day she'll take a chunk out of me." "I'll keep an eye out." And Wayne turned and hustled off, taking the flashlight and leaving Rusty standing there with the candles and his mouth hanging open. He hurried after Wayne, gasping as he hit the wall of water and pushing like anything toward the barn, praying like hell all his babies were in and safe. It wasn't fit for man or beast out here. He got there just in time to see Wayne tie it up with Miss Pol, though really, Wayne handled her pretty well, giving her a light thump on the nose to keep her off when he checked her stall. Lord, dripping wet Wayne was a sight. He admired for just a second, then checked his babies. All five colts warm and dry, Bruce eating in the back stall. He could see the cattle standing together on high ground, wet and still, waiting out the storm like they would. "Looks like they all came in for the feed and stayed." He rubbed Bunny's nose, her twin nudging up alongside. "There's all sorts of critters hiding in the goat barn, too." "Yep. Right and tight. You've got 'em set up real nice here." If there was a reason for Wayne's quick departure before, it didn't show now. The easy grin was back, and so was...what? Something like admiration, maybe.

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"It's been in my family forever." He shrugged. "Granny and Pap went in a car accident together, and I couldn't just let a stranger have it." "No. Musta been hard, though, Austin to here. Me? I never figure to inherit. My dad's got a big old spread up in Wyoming, but I've got eight brothers and sisters." "Eight? Damn. I'm an only, and my momma passed away when I was real little." He wiped the rain off his face. "I hear Wyoming's damned pretty country. One day, when I get my feet up under me, I'd like to see the mountains." "It's cold. But yeah, damned pretty." They were back to working together like they'd done it before. It was nice, not having to do it all. They got everybody settled in no time, and Rusty held out his hand as they headed toward the stable door. "Thanks, Wayne. Feels damned good having someone to pull the wagon with for a bit." Wayne took his hand in a warm grip, holding it more than shaking it, smiling at him for a long moment. "Not a problem, Rusty. I'm enjoying the heck out of you." "Not everywhere you can get ham sandwiches and interesting reading material in the same place." He met Wayne's eyes, grinning. "You ready?" "Let's make a run for it." He nodded and they ran, the rain cold and sharp on his skin, the ground already turning to mud. They got back to the house wet and muddy and out of breath, and damn that was one Hell of a storm. Still, they'd gotten the feed in, and the animals fed and safe, and he had

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someone to spend some of the long, dark hours with until the lights came up. Life wasn't so bad after all. *** The morning after the storm dawned clear and calm and pretty, with that clean, washed look to the world. Looked like the power was back on, as well, which Wayne figured was both good and bad. Good, because Lord knew in this day and age it was hard to do without it. Bad, because the kid was a lot less likely to need his help and a lot more likely to call up and see if someone could give him a ride into... Hell. Wherever he was. Texas was just too damned big. Normally, Wayne wasn't one to outstay his welcome, or invite himself along, or whatever. But damned if that redheaded kid hadn't interested him more than anyone had in a long time. And that ass. Oh, he could wax purely poetic about that tight, round little heiny Rusty packed into his jeans. Which was why Wayne was up in the kitchen making coffee rather than packing his duffle and calling towing companies out of the beat up old phone book Rusty had. He wanted another glimpse of that. Or maybe several more. Just about the time the coffee stopped perking, the object of his thoughts wandered in, hair sticking up everywhichways. "Morning." "Mmm...morning." Those washed-out blue eyes were dozy, the kid looking cute as fuck in a pair of old sweatpants and a Longhorns t-shirt with big old holes peppered all through. "You sleep good?"

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"Like a baby." At least if the kid was sleepy he was less likely to notice the sproing Wayne’d just experienced. Jesus. "I woulda made breakfast, but the only thing I can cook is steak on the grill. Didn't figure that would fly." "'S'okay, yeah? I'll make some oats and toast." The bright red curls were pushed back, bouncing all over the damned place as soon as Rusty let go of them. "Steak sounds damned good, though. Too much work, grilling for one." The kid pulled out some oats and a big assed pot and started filling it with water. "Yeah. I hear that. But you know, I was raised on it. Like to cook my own better'n I like to go out to a sit-down place." Oh, yeah. Morning view of that sweatpanted ass as Rusty worked at the stove. Hands, old man, he thought. Keep your hands on the table and off his ass and your own dick. "Oh, yeah. I got a big old brisket just waiting for an excuse for cookin'." Rusty poured in the oats and grabbed some brown sugar. "I sure hope the barns survived the storm. I tell you what, I can tell why the old-timey folk had lots of kids. I can't hardly keep up, much less worry on making stuff better and breaking even." "It's hard work, that's for sure. "S'why so many places are failing these days." He had to admire Rusty personally as well as physically for having the sheer grit to do what he was doing. "How much land have you got, about?" "All told? Three hundred and sixty eight acres. I'm living on the money leasing eighty west acres, and the back thirty or so isn't fenced or worth dick to anybody but javelinas." "Nice little bit of farm." And it was, too. Hell of a good bit for one man, especially one not so much raised to it. "Big chunk to chew."

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"Yeah." The sugar and milk and butter got added in, and the slices of bread popped in the toaster. "When I started, I sorta had a friend who wanted to work with me, but things change and I just...well, this is family land here. My people are buried on it. I can't just let it go to shit." "Yeah. I hear ya." Wayne thought about it for a minute, stirring sugar into his coffee. "If you need any help around the place, I could stick for a few days, help you out to pay you back for the help you gave me, yeah? I'm handier with barns that I am trucks." Lord, he hoped that wasn't too forward. "Oh, yeah? Really?" Those blue eyes met his dead on, the kid nodding. "I could use some help getting ready for winter and, well, I can't pay you really, but I could feed you and the room you slept in last night's free." The oats got scooped into two old china bowls, the toast set right on top. Simple. Hearty. Working man's food. "Works for me. I got nowhere special to be. Foreman at the last place I was working had to lay a bunch of us off, and I was in between jobs anyway." Long in between jobs, the way things were going in the farm and ranch world. His belly was empty more often than not. Rusty set the bowl down in front of him, sitting down himself. "What kind of thing'd you do before?" "Well, my last job was one of them fancy beef raising operations, lots of cross breeding and taking after bulls with bottles and cows with a turkey baster." He grinned. Oversimplifying, sure, but he believed more in natural selection than science. "But I've worked anything from a 1200 acre bison breeding spread in Montana to a 35 acre gentleman's farm."

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"Wow." The kid blushed dark, curls bobbing as he set to eating. "You must think I'm one hell of a dork, worrying about my five little colts and fifty head of cattle." "Everyone's gotta start somewhere, kid." Wayne inhaled his breakfast, feeling it settle warm in his belly. "And those are some fine looking colts you got there." "Thanks. I did the McMartin's books for them. The cattle have been here forever and the goats were an experiment. So far, they're a lot of trouble, but people say I can sell them come spring." "Yeah. My dad used to run sheep and cattle, but he got out of the sheep right fast. Too much nothing for a lot of trouble." He got up and gathered the dishes. If Rusty cooked, he would clean. "Yeah." Rusty got up and pulled a nice-sized brisket and two steaks from the freezer and set them on the counter, giving him another view of that sweet ass. "Reckon it'll be thawed enough to pop in the smoker late tonight after supper, yeah?" He'd just eaten and his mouth was watering. "Ought to, well enough. So. Show me what needs to be done and I'll get doing." He never thought he'd be so eager to work. Not that he was lazy, mind. But being out of work for a few weeks made a man feel less than useful. And, besides, he wanted to impress the kid a little. "Let's look at the barns and see how bad off they are, I guess. I've sold off all the hay and wood I'm going to until the cold hits, but I reckon we need to drive down and check those buildings, too." Rusty stripped off his shirt, heading down the hall. Right at the small of

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the kid's back was a dark tattoo, all pointy and...damn. "Lemme throw on some jeans and a shirt and I'll be right there." "Yeah. I'll just get my boots." And go to the bathroom and thump his dick until it went down. Damn. Been a long time, sure, but not long enough to explain his reaction to Rusty. Kid just got to him. It took them both a little wandering to get out and working -- Rusty's curls wetted and pushed under a gimme cap, well-worn t-shirt tucked into jeans. The kid was good with the critters, although that one old mare did nip at the kid every chance she got. She was a toothy old girl, all right. They got all the regular morning chores done, and he got Rusty to point him to the worst of the roof leaks on the main outbuilding. Start where the water came in, he figured, and go from there. Damn, it felt good to get out and put his back into something. The kid wasn't a damned laze, either, spending the morning slid up under the house wrapping the pipes and shoring up a few of the old bois d'arc posts. They shared a quick and simple lunch of sandwiches and iced tea, Rusty hosing himself off a bit before hopping into the world's rattiest pickup. "You wanna see the back piece? The hay's stored out there." "Sure." He was a little sleepy. Best to let lunch digest before getting up on the roof again. They headed back, two big-assed mutts in the bed of the truck, a tiny fur-ball tucked behind his feet. "That's Lacy. She was Pappy's, misses him something fierce." "She's not shy, is she?" He laughed, reaching down to pet.

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"Not even a little." The old girl nuzzled his hand, licking him once before settling back down. They traveled a far piece before they crested a rise and he could see two steel buildings -one good-sized and the other half as big -- glinting in the sunrise. Well, now. Those didn't look so bad at all. "Nice." He grinned over, the day just making his mood good all the way down. Rusty nodded, gave him a grin. "I bought those early. I make a good bit of my grocery money off winter hay and wood, and people were driving in and stealing. This helps a little, you know? Makes them work for it, and Silver and Gorilla should be out here some...Oh, there they come." As he watched, two big-assed rottweilers came around the barns, growling, teeth bared. Rusty hopped out, grabbing a bag of dog food from the bed of the truck and pouring out the water-logged food left over from the day before. "They just look mean. They're good boys." "Right. Big teeth." Cautiously, Wayne hopped out of the truck, figuring that he came with their master, so he would probably be accepted. "Yeah, but they're all bark. The male's Gorilla, she's Silver. They make pretty puppies." The dogs ignored him, paying more attention to the mutts who jumped down off the truck bed to share the food. "Good to know." Fuck. He was going to have a stroke if the kid didn't stop bending over right in front of him like that, this time to fill water dishes.

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"Yeah, they're cool." Rusty's jeans had a little hole, right on one inner thigh, giving him a peek of pink skin. God Almighty. "So." Wayne had to stop and clear his throat. "What sort of other improvements are you looking at?" "Honest? Right now I'd like to keep the house from falling down. I'd like to have the cattle at least breaking even -- I've got four good Brahma bulls and some right pretty Herefords." Rusty unlocked the first building, the hay inside dry and good. "I'm thinking of leasing out another 100 acres next spring if things don't get better." "That would be a shame, considering you want to run those cows." It occurred to Wayne that he might be a tad nosy. "If I ask something, by the way, and you don't want to answer, tell me to shove off. I'm a pushy one." Those pretty, light eyes grinned over at him. "I will, but don't hold your breath. The company's damned fine." Oh, those eyes were dangerous. Almost as good as the butt. Rusty was a damned goodlooking kid. "All righty then." "I'm going to check the tops of the high bales, make sure they're dry." Rusty dusted off his jeans. "Give me a boost up?" "Sure." That was a great sound, now wasn't it. Sounded like someone grabbed his nuts and twisted. But he went ahead and gave the kid a leg up. Now he just had to keep from dropping him as he cupped one cheek of that sweet ass in his hand and pushed.

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Oh, fuck. Rusty made a soft little noise that echoed in the metal building, a moan if he'd ever heard one. "Oh... It's... It's looking good up here. Real good." "Yeah?" He wanted to moan himself. Possibly he did. And he maybe squeezed a little. "Uh-huh..." And maybe that sweet ass just pressed back into his touch, just a little. "Good. One less thing to worry over." He was gonna expire on the spot. You'd think he was fifteen again. "Yeah." Rusty slid down, body slipping down against him. And the kid wasn't fucking helping. At all. Or he was, depending on how you looked at it. Still, couldn't go poking a man in the ass with your dick the day after you met unless he wanted you to, so Wayne stepped back. "What else?" "I..." Rusty turned half-way towards him, hand casually draped over the fly of the kid's jeans. "If you want to take the truck back, I got some stuff to take care of here... Fence stuff... Then I'll meet you back at the house and we can start supper, feed the critters." "Sure. I mean. If you really want to hoof it back." If the kid needed some privacy, he wasn't going to say no, but he hated to leave him the hike. "Well..." The kid seemed to think, then nodded. "You check on the wood in the other building. I'll run over and check that bit of fence, see if the grass needs watering." "Sounds like a plan." Give him time to cool down, but not leave the kid stranded. He hit

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the other shed, checking the wood and finding it safe and snug. He'd stay there, though. Linger 'til Rusty called him. Rub a little, maybe. Rusty gave him plenty of time and plenty of warning, whistles sounding from way back. When the kid showed up, those cheeks were flushed, eyes dancing. He figured he was a little red himself, and he knew he was breathing hard. "You all set?" "Oh, yeah. Hungry, too." Rusty gave him a blinding smile, then hopped up in the truck. "You got no idea, kid," he muttered, and hopped in, too. Brisket was sounding awful good. But Rusty was the real prime meat around the place. *** Wayne was busy at the grill, doing corn and potatoes and steak. Rusty threw some brown-n-serves in the toaster oven to brown and then went to grab a quick shower. He was feeling good -- loose and comfortable and, after his little pull-off in the pasture, much more in control of himself. He washed his hair, scrubbing through the curls, getting all the dust and insulation from under the house off. The plumbing hadn't been anywhere near as bad as he'd thought it was going to be, and Wayne had saved him a whole day on the roof of the barn. Kick ass. He finished washing and hopped out, wrapping a towel around his waist to pop into the kitchen and pull the rolls out before getting his clothes on.

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"Oh, hey, you got any..." Wayne turned to finish the question and dropped the tongs. "Uh." "Oh. Sorry. Didn't want them to burn. The buns. In the toaster." He whipped around, towel flaring as he got the rolls out. "What do you need?" "Uh." Great. He'd embarrassed Wayne to the point of speechlessness. "I'm sorry. Let me. Pants. Just a sec." Oh, shit. And of course he had to get a stiffy. Now. In a towel. "Sauce." Wayne sounded like he was laughing his ass off now. "I was gonna ask if you had anything like sauce. This one steak is kinda tough looking. Figured I'd cook it well done and put some steak sauce on it. That'd do it up." "In the pantry. A-1." He shook his head, grinning. "Anything else 'fore I go find some Levis?" "Well." When he looked back over his shoulder, Wayne was looking at his butt. "Nothing that won't get us burnt brisket." "Brisket's got to cook all night." Oh, shit. He was gonna start seriously tenting here in a second. "Steaks don't. And you're edible, kid, but I have a feeling I'll need my strength to deal with you." He wasn't quite sure whether he was being complimented or told to quit acting like a horny little bastard, so he went the safe route. Retreat. "A-1's in the cabinet. I'll be out in two shakes to tear up a salad."

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"Two shakes and I'll be a happy man, as that towel will go." When he shot another look at Wayne, the man grinned at him, wide and white, and turned back to the steaks. His cheeks were blazing all the way to the bedroom, and he tugged on some shorts and a wife-beater, telling his body quite firmly that he was going to get through dinner without any more embarrassment. By the time he was headed back to the kitchen, he'd almost convinced himself he could do it, too. "Hey, good timing. The rolls are done and the steaks, you've got time to make that salad while I get the corn and potatoes." Wayne was a little red in the face, too, which made him feel better. 'Course that might have been the heat. He tore up some lettuce and chopped a tomato up, putting it all in Granny's salad bowl along with the dressing and two plates. "You gonna want milk or beer?" "Beer sounds good." He got a very serious look. "Thanks for all of this, Rusty. Been a while since I had a spread like this." "It's good so share it. Damned good to have the company." He offered Wayne a very real smile. He was way too fond of not being alone already, too used to that smile and those warm eyes. The embarrassment factor just seemed to melt away as they ate and talked. He sat close enough to see that Wayne's eyes were more hazel than brown and that the man's hair would be light brown if it weren't sun bleached blonde. They spent a good long time laughing, talking a whole lot about nothing, and Rusty was enjoying the hell out of it.

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Looked like Wayne was, too, the way the man laughed and lingered over the dishes and offered to make coffee. "Sounds good. Sounds real good. Oh, I got two pieces of cherry pie left in the fridge, too, if you've got room." He hopped down off the counter, all grins and bounces. "God. You're a regular dream come true, Rus." Wayne grinned and brushed past him to get the coffee going, and Rusty would swear the man copped a feel. He chuckled and bent to dig out the pie, hips swaying to the music coming off the radio. Now that sounded like Wayne was in pain, that sound. He straightened up, turning, pie in hand. "You okay?" "No. But I'll live. Maybe. If you sit down. You got no idea, do you?" Wayne was practically scarlet, but smiling. "Idea? About what? Do I have a hole or something in my shorts?" He turned, trying to look. "No. You just have the most amazing ass I have ever seen on a guy. And believe me, I've looked at every one between here and Missoula, Montana." "I... Me?" He turned beet-red, cheeks burning. "Really?" "Yeah." Wayne nudged his foot under the table. "So round and firm and fully packed. You like to gave me a heart attack in that towel." "Fully packed?" He chuckled, nudging back. "I can guarantee you it was not fully packed -- towel or not." Oh, God. Did he just say that?

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They laughed, diffusing the moment, but he had the distinct feeling that Wayne wasn't teasing. Made the pie that much sweeter. They finished the pie and a couple of cups of coffee, chuckling and laughing, the sun setting. "Would you like to watch a movie or something? I've got a few..." "Sure. I won't be ready for bed for a while, for all that we worked a good day." The last of the dishes were tucked away, the dishtowel neatly hung. "Are your movies as...varied as your magazines?" He stood there, mouth open. "I... I wish." "Yeah, well. I'll take a good action flick if you've got one." That was definitely a goose of his ass as Wayne slipped past him to the living room. Rusty stood for a second, stunned as a bunny before a rattler, then shook his head. Action. Right. "You want 'The Matrix' or 'Collateral Damage'?" *** Wayne was hoping he hadn't outstayed his welcome, but a good three days had passed since he came to stay, and Rusty still hadn't booted his ass out, so he figured he was good. Hell, he was golden. All the work he could stand, sore muscles and see-your-progress-at-the-end-of-the-day work, in fact. Good food, served in the form of three squares a day.

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And damned fine company. Damned fine. Rusty was funny as all get out, not afraid to work, or to make a fool out of himself, good with animals, and loyal to his family. The kid was also hot. At first, Wayne thought it was just a combination of the fine butt that boy had and the fact that it had been, well, almost a year since he'd gotten some. A few days in Rusty’s company told him that the kid got better instead of worse, though, and he was ready to jump the kid and have it over with. Was contemplating it right then, in fact, as Rusty bent over in front of him to fiddle with the VCR. "You know," he said. "You could just stay like that and it would be all the show I need." Those big eyes blinked over, cheeks pink as all get out. "The way you talk." Then Rusty shook that sweet little ass, just for him. That was it. It was either reach for that ass or jack off, and who wanted to go it alone when there was a man like that right there, just waiting. Wayne was up and moving before he even thought, hands coming up to cup that sweet, sweet bottom. Rusty was a big boy. He could slug Wayne into the middle of the next week if he'd figured it wrong. "Oh, thank God." Rusty pressed back into his hands, moaning low, hips rocking that fine fucking ass against his fingers. "Yeah. Through talkin' about it, Rus. Gotta." Gotta do all sorts of things. He stepped forward one more pace and pushed his hips against Rusty's butt, moaning low. Rusty's thighs parted, and the kid straightened up, putting them together shoulder to ass.

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One of his hands was taken, brought around to feel the bulge just pushing at that soft denim. "Yeah, Wayne. Yeah." "This ain't gonna be over quick. You sure?" He wanted the kid to be sure. Because, damn. "I'm sure." Rusty turned, met his eyes dead on, one hand sliding around to the back of his neck. "I'm real fucking sure." Then Rusty pulled their lips together, tongue sliding right into his mouth. What was it the kid had said? Thank God. Wayne grabbed that sweet ass and pulled Rusty close, humping them together, kissing like crazy. The kiss was all man, aggressive as Hell, subtle as a freight train. Rusty met his hunger, his need, body thrusting and sliding against him, wanton little noises fed right into his mouth. Oh, man. Who knew the kid would make noises like that? He fucking loved it. The sounds were like a hand around his cock, pulling. He squeezed Rusty's ass in time to them, and the kiss, and thought he might just shoot in his jeans. "Gonna make me come, Wayne. Want skin. Want to touch you." "Oh, yeah. Me, too. Let's take the edge off." He struggled with the button of Rusty's jeans. The kid chuckled, fingers clever as they fished his cock from his jeans. "I got lots of edges, Wayne. Lots." "Well, let's work on this one, yeah?" Oh. Nice. Weighty. Cut. Long. The fit in his hand was all he could ask. Wayne stroked, getting a feel for it. Shit. That was good.

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"Yeah... Oh, God. Yeah." Oh, those noises were hot, gasped against his lips, his chin. Rusty's hands were exploring, almost holding too careful, moving over his cockhead with a feather-light touch. "Yeah. More. Need." He went for Rusty's neck, right under the edge of those red curls that fell over Rusty's ears. Rusty whimpered, fucking whimpered, that hand wrapping tighter around his cock. "God!" You'd think he was fifteen, not almost thirty-five, because he came right then and there, hips jerking, moans spilling from him. "Oh, Christ. Wayne. So...so hot." Rusty pushed up on his toes, hips pistoning that long cock through Wayne’s fingers. He squeezed, panting, pulling hard, feeling that hot skin burn him. A low keening sounded and Rusty shot, heat pouring right over his fingers, the smell of them together all male. Licking his fingers was right out, but -- damn!-- he wanted to. So bad. So he kissed Rusty hard instead. His arms were filled with melted, snuggling, wanting man, Rusty's lips parted wide, tongue sliding against his own. They backed toward the couch, stumbling a little, and Wayne pulled and tugged at Rusty’s clothes. They managed to hit buck-naked about the same time they hit the sofa, Rusty pulling him down onto that long, sweet body. Skin on skin was unbelievable and just what he'd hoped for. They pressed together head to toe, and Wayne's cock lined up against Rusty's as they kissed again and again. Rusty's hands explored, squeezing his ass, brushing over his balls, making him nuts. Which

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wasn't to say he wasn't making a good map of his own. The kid had tiny pink nipples and a flat belly, and that cock was as good to look at as it was to hold. Those sexy little sounds kept coming, too, low and rich when his fingers touched that belly, higher and breathless when he got near the lightly muscled chest. "Yeah. God, you're hot, Rus. Amazing." He bent to wrap his lips around one nipple. "Oh! Oh, good. Good." Rusty set to rocking, one hand holding his head against that chest. "Mmm." Yeah, it was good. Rusty's skin tasted like honest work sweat, salty and rich, and so good. He went looking for more, licking along to Rusty's navel. The muscles of that flat belly rippled, shuddering under his lips like a swarm of butterflies lived under the skin. God, he loved a man's skin, loved the way muscles worked and moved and popped when he bit and kissed. Rusty had sharp hipbones, and he nibbled one, just 'cause. Rusty twisted, cock throbbing, brushing his cheek. Shit. He wondered if the kid had rubbers. He wasn't willing to go get them if he did, so Wayne just went below, nuzzling the balls and licking the base of that sweet cock. "Oh...Oh, sweet Lord... Wayne. It's hot. Damn." Rusty was whimpering, arching, body moving like he couldn't figure out whether to push closer or pull away. "Smell good, Rus. Taste good." He wasn't lying either, didn't have to. The musk down there was damn near maddening, and the taste was stronger, hotter than the lips or neck or chest. Wayne took his time, exploring, licking Rus like a lollypop, rolling the lowhanging balls and feeling up that ass.

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Rusty was moaning, the sounds constant and needy, hands petting his hair, stroking him. God damn it all to Hell and back, that ass. He'd gotten to where he could lift Rus up a bit and get it right at eye level and he wanted it, lips and tongue and all, but he wasn't sure if that was maybe too much this time, 'cause they were on the first one. So he jerked Rusty's prick and used his fingers to get to know those tight cheeks instead, just touching Rusty's hole. That pretty ass shifted, Rusty fucking rubbing his fingers with that wrinkled little ring of muscles. Oh, God. They had no lube, but he had spit enough for one finger, and Wayne sucked his finger a bit and slid it inside just a little. "Oh... Good." Rusty shifted, rocking down against his finger, a sweet little moan sounding. The kid was going to drive him crazy before they could even do anything serious. The taste and smell and the way that tight little ass pulled his finger in just made him jerk and moan. "Rus. God." "Oh, God. Yes. Good. Please." Rusty was so hot, so tight, riding his finger and moaning. He was gonna come, just from watching the kid, just from seeing Rusty like this, all hot for him. Wayne sucked the kid's balls, pushed his finger in, used his other hand on that long cock, pumping hard, balancing on his elbows. Rusty keened, toes curling, hips shuddering as heat sprayed over his fingers.

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"Oh, sweet Jesus." That was all it took. Not even a touch to his cock, not even a little rub. Wayne just came all over the place, like he was fifteen and watching his first porn movie. Those pale, pale eyes blinked down at him. "Oh. Wayne. Oh, wow." "Yeah. Damn." There wasn't much else he could say except maybe, "You got any condoms? Or lube? Because God knows you're hot enough I'm ready to go again." "Yeah. Both. In the bedroom." Rusty nodded, grinned. "You wanna try my bed?" "Hell, yes." He hauled them both up, legs a little shaky. "Been wanting to since you picked me up." "Oh." He got a sweet, slow smile, the kid turning bright pink. "Let's not keep us waiting anymore, then." Rusty led the way, that ass shaking from side to side, calling to him. That was the Pied Piper of asses, 'cause Wayne had never followed one so eagerly. This one was special. So was that sweet, long cock with the red-gold curls about it and the sweet, heavy balls. The man was a regular work of art. The bedroom was rumpled and cluttered, the smell of Rusty stronger here, like Rusty had been sunk into the linens. Made him even harder. Damn, but he hadn't felt this young in a few years. He grabbed for that tight butt, squeezing it before turning Rusty around for a kiss. Rusty gasped, arms wrapping around Wayne’s shoulders as the kid dove into the kiss. Just like that. That was just what he wanted. Soft and sweet, Rusty's lips opened for him, and he pushed his tongue deep, tasting.

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Rusty moaned, fingers sliding through his hair as that long cock swelled for him, firm as it rubbed against his belly. Goddamn. The kid was hotter than a two dollar pistol. He rubbed right back, letting everything rub and bump, moaning at the feel. They stumbled back, step by step, making their way to the bed. Finally Rusty's legs hit the edge and they went down, kiss never so much as breaking. Horizontal was good, but he figured they needed the stuff before they got too wrapped up. Gasping, Wayne pulled back. "Rubbers?" "Hmm? Oh, here." Rusty stretched beneath him, reaching to dig in the bedside table, coming up with a tube of lube and a box of condoms. "Hot damn. Didn't figure we'd want to stop later." Wayne dove back into the kiss, hands sliding into that red hair, feeling the soft curls slide around his fingers. Rusty moaned, one leg wrapping over Wayne’s hip, tugging them closer together. "Mmm. God, kid. You feel good." He rubbed against Rusty's belly, his hip, letting their cocks push together. "It's good. You taste good." Rusty licked at his lips, teeth nibbling carefully. "Yeah. Damned good." That ass called to him, and Wayne rolled them to their sides, grabbing it. Rusty chuckled, the sound breathless, and pushed back into his hands. He couldn't help it, so he guessed he was lucky the kid liked him to touch as much as he liked the touching. Bending, he sucked at Rusty’s neck.

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"Oh, God. That's good." Rusty shivered, fingers brushing over Wayne’s nipples, tweaking them, teasing them. Shit. That sent shocks right down to his cock, made him moan. "Jeez. Rus." "Want me to stop?" The kid pulled again, making his fucking toes curl. "No!" Man, no way did he want this to stop. His hands curled, fingers stroking at Rusty's crease. "Oh, good." He got another of those dazed, happy, horny little smiles, then Rusty ducked his head, fastening those lips around one of Wayne’s nipples and sucking. "Jeez. Gonna make me forget what I was really after, Rus." He was scatterbrained as a cow on loco weed. "I'll remind you, promise." Rusty wiggled that fine little ass. "Yeah?" That ass in his hands was too much, and Wayne pulled Rusty away from his chest to push him onto his stomach. "Want that butt of yours, Rus. Can't help myself." "Oh, God. Yeah. Yeah, Wayne." Rusty arched, ass pushing into the air. "Yeah." He grabbed that fine ass and squeezed, watching it bounce back like the tight bubble it was, then bent to kiss the little dent at the top. Damn. Rusty shuddered, muscles twitching, jerking for him. "Oh..." "You like that, yeah? Like it a lot." So did he. Shit. He licked and kissed some more, just going to town.

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"Damn. Wayne. I... Oh..." Rusty pulled his knees beneath him, ass lifting up. "Fuck." He scrambled for the lube. He just had to feel what that was like from the inside. One finger would do to start, 'cause who knew how long it had been? He pushed at Rusty, feeling that tight ring of muscle close around him. Tight and hot and oh, fuck, but that hole was hungry, pulling his finger right in and squeezing. His cock was gonna bust wide open if it kept that up. He was going too fast, he knew, but he started stretching next, wanting in. "Oh. Oh, feels so good. Damn." Rusty was panting, head on those hands, hips moving into his touch. The kid was begging for it. He couldn't ask for more than that. The damned rubber took forever, but Wayne got it on and got it good and slick, and then he was pushing in. Jesus fucking Christ. A soft, low cry sounded, Rusty arching, ass hot and soft against him. "Good... Oh, fuck..." "Rus. You're tight...oh, damn." Like nothing else, ever, that ass. So tight, so hot and good. Wayne grabbed Rusty's hips and started moving, hard and fast. Rusty levered himself up, grabbed the top of the headboard, and started grinding back against him, meeting each thrust. "Oh. Oh, Rus." He was just going crazy, sweat pouring off him, his hips moving with no conscious effort. "Yeah. Oh. Yeah." Rusty's head fell back, short, sharp cries filling the air.

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God. If he could just, yeah, get a hand free, there. Rusty's cock, hard in his hand. Sweet. They were moving together, rocking, in and out, and he was as happy as a man could be. Then... Oh. Oh, That ass clenched around him, heat pouring over his hand. "Fuck! Rus!" That was all it took for him, and he shot so hard he saw stars, breath hitching in his chest. Rusty slowly leaned over, coming to rest on the mattress, ass still squeezing Wayne’s cock. "Whoa. Wow." Lowering himself at the same time, Wayne came down on top of Rusty, resting as lightly as he could. "Damn." "Uh-huh." Rusty moaned and wiggled, snuggling back against him. "Good." "Real good, Rus." So good that he wasn't going anywhere for a while. It was bad enough that he liked the kid. Now he knew how good it was with him, too. He was in deep, deep trouble. *** Man, suppers were different knowing what was gonna happen after. The food wasn't different, the kitchen wasn't different. Shit, they weren't different. But still, knowing they would head to the sofa after the dishes were in the washer and end up naked and doing shit that would frighten fish?

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Damn. Rusty put the soap in and started the dishwasher, wiping his hands on his jeans. "That frozen stuff wasn't half-bad." "Yeah." Wayne grinned over at him, the look already heavy-lidded and horny. "Not bad at all." "You want dessert?" He adjusted his cock as it filled, pushing at his zipper. "After we sit and watch TV a bit maybe." Which was code for hump like mad things. He was getting to know Wayne-speak pretty well. Way cooler than Mrs. Baxter's attempts to teach him Spanish. "Cool." Wayne held out a hand. "Come on, Rus. Let's go...sit. Yeah?" They wandered out of the kitchen, the dishwasher whush-whushing behind them. They'd started taking their boots off before supper, neither of them saying nothing about it, but it just...made shit easier. They got to the couch, and both of them sat down and spread out. They made a weak attempt to watch the game, but before long Wayne was scooting right over next to him, hand on his thigh. "Hey, there." Rusty spread, ass sliding on the sofa, cock hard as all fuck. "Hey, Rus. I'm thinking you got something there for me." Man, it was just so easy with Wayne, the way they'd settled into it, no fuss no muss.

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"Yeah. Been watching you." He scooted closer, close enough to slide his hand behind Wayne's back. "Yeah? 'Cause I do like the way you look, Rus." Grinning even wider, Wayne rubbed the heel of one hand against Rusty's fly. "Yeah. Oh." He groaned, hips pushing right on up, cock throbbing. The tab of his zipper went right down, Wayne tugging at it. When his jeans were open, Wayne reached into the gap, hand searching, finding his hardness. No bullshit, that was just good, the calluses and the heat on his prick. "Mmm. Damn, Rus. That's hot." Those eyes were just focused on his skin, like lasers. Wayne was all intensity, all need. His skin was pale down there, the curls bright red, springing back from each touch of Wayne's hand. "Your hand is, too." "I like touching you." Leaning in, Wayne kissed him, all sun-browned skin and faintly chapped lips. He groaned and opened up, tongue pushing against Wayne's, tasting spice and coffee. Shit, marthy, that was fine. They moved closer together, and Wayne kissed him harder, just pushing into his mouth. That hand worked him, sliding and slipping. He groaned, hips moving, jerking, just riding that hand. Sweet fuck. Everything went tight, thighs to belly, and his eyes flew open, warning Wayne, so close.

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"Come on, babe." Oh, damn. Wayne was calling him names now. Damn. Wayne pulled, jerking him with good, long strokes. Shooting with Wayne was like nothing else. Ever. Fuck. He felt it in every nerve, every bone. "Oh, oh damn." Practically crawling on top of him, Wayne started humping his thigh, just rocking up and down. "Yeah. Yeah..." His hands found Wayne's ass, tugged him closer. Wayne was panting, moaning, just pressing down on him. He could feel the heat, could taste the sweat on Wayne's lip. He nibbled a little, nipped, tested the resilience of Wayne's bottom lip. Grunting, Wayne moved faster against him, just really getting it on, his hips just jerking. "That's so hot..." He fucking loved that look in Wayne's eyes -- wild and needy and wow. "Shit!" Wayne's eyes went wide, his mouth opened on a deep, hot sound, and Wayne just went crazy on top of him, whole body shaking. "Oh. Man. You. I mean, damn, Wayne." Rusty took a kiss, jonesing on the way coming made Wayne's lips clumsy, soft. "Mmmhn." Cupping his face, Wayne kissed him right back, tasting like sweat and heat, the kiss slow and easy. Oh, yeah. Damn. Sweet. Better than dessert any day. ***

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Wayne couldn't ask for a better set up than the one he had with Rusty. Hard work, sure, but he felt good working, helping, just for room and board, mind, but Rusty didn't seem to mind. They cooked together, ate together, and nighttimes on the couch? Or Hell, in the bed? Damn. A man couldn't ask for more. Not that he was hanging out with the carrot top for the feed and bed. Hell, no. Rusty was funny as all get out, smart, and hot as the hinges of Hell. Wayne was...well. He was mighty pleased with the man. Mighty pleased. He wiped sweat off his forehead, avoiding Miss Pol's damned teeth, giving her a bit of a thump on the sensitive end of her nose. He was a little sore, his back twinging, but he'd gotten all of the stalls mucked, all of the feed moved, and all of the horses brushed down. Now he needed a beer. He could hear Rusty in the back, whistling away. He walked around the house, got the sight of Rusty in nothing but a pair of skin-tight cutoffs and a pair of sneakers on a ladder, fixing the porch gutter. Lord, lord. His knees went a little weak. Damn. He went right over and looked up, getting a fine view of Rusty's ass cheeks. "Oh. Looking good, babe." "Hey." Rusty grinned down at him, just shining with sweat. "How's it going? Man, the sun's just beating down." "Tell me about it." His own chest was bare and damned swampy. Yeah, sexy. He snorted. "I was gonna get a beer, but now I'm thinking lemonade. You like the idea?"

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"I do. Tart and sweet and icy cold." Rusty slid down the ladder, ass rubbing all the way down. Wayne just had to reach out and grab it, so he did. Squeezing, he leaned and licked the sweat off the kid's neck. Fuck yeah. "Cool. We got lemons, I know. We got sugar?" "Uh-huh. Big ole... Mmm...big ole bag." Rusty moaned, ass pushing right into his hands. He chuckled, squeezing some more. "Round and squeezable." "You talkin' about the lemons or my ass?" "Both." He turned Rusty, gave him a nice, happy, horny kiss. Yeah. Hoo, yeah. Rusty opened right up, rubbing against him, belly hot and slick. Wayne pushed his tongue in, tasting Rusty deep, needing a different kind of heat all the way. He pushed his hips forward, his cock pressing against his zipper. Rusty's hands slipped along his back, pushed into his waistband, tugging at him. "Mmm. Babe. Hot." The sun was hot, too, beating down on their skin, making them slippery. Made Rusty smell good, clean sweat and male and damn... That was. Damn. "Wanna...we haven't ever outside. No one can see." One of Rusty's legs pressed between his, nudged his balls. Oh, Hell. Yeah. He could so do that. He kissed Rusty again, going for that zipper, the tiny cutoffs falling down Rusty's legs so he could comb through the red curls. Rusty groaned, rubbed against him like they could cause sparks between them, set that

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old frame house afire. Those fingers worked his own buckle open, popped his fly. "You, too." "Yeah." He wiggled, sorta a shimmy maybe, and his jeans slid right down, leaving him out in the breeze. Rusty made this great little noise -- want and need and groan -- and then plastered against him, rubbing good and hard. Their cocks came together, wet and soft and rasping hard, and his curls tangled with Rusty's as the kid's leg wrapped around his hips. "Fuck. Babe." "Uh-huh. 'S good." Rusty nipped his bottom lip, groaned. "You smell good." "So do you, babe." So, so good. They smelled like each other now, and like the grass and the dust and oh, fuck. His cock pushed against Rusty's balls as they slid, and he bit down on Rusty's neck. Rusty's leg went tight, the kid humping him, pushing him right up against the house. His back thumped against the wall and his breath whooshed out, and Wayne grinned. "Hungry?" "Uh-huh." Rusty's eyes were hot, wild. "Want all of you, yeah?" "Got me. All over and up and down." He reached down and grabbed their cocks, squeezing. "Mmm...up and down. Up and...down. Wayne. Fuck." Rusty's hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing as Rusty went up on his toes.

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Almost blind with need, Wayne stroked them both, working them hard and fast. His balls drew up and his ass muscles clenched, and it was all of ten seconds before he was shooting all over Rusty's cock and thighs. Rusty bucked, leg squeezing him hard enough to pinch, an answering heat spraying over his belly. Fuck if he wasn't melted. Just gonna run down the wall like wet paint. "Jesus, babe." "Uh-huh. Really need the lemonade now." Rus grinned, licked his shoulder. "Really, really." "Yeah. Me too, buddy." Hoisting them both up, Wayne stepped out of his jeans and put his arm around Rusty's waist. "I'll squeeze lemons if you dissolve the sugar in the water." "You got a deal." He got a grin, a wink. "You do have a deal." They headed in, naked and easy in their skin, and Wayne grinned to himself, starting to whistle a little. No siree, a man couldn't ask for much more than he had. Not much at all. *** The horn startled him, Hell, startled them both, and Rusty headed out from the barn, hay covering him head to toe. At least his fly was zipped and his boots were on. Man, they were so going to have to stop doing it in the barn. "Mr. Jarrell? Howdy sir. What can I do you for?" Mr. Jarrell had been Grampa’s best friend and sort of his own personal Santa Claus lots of times.

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"Oh, I just stopped by to check in on you, son. Big city boy and all." The old feller was just a bit more bent over, a little longer in the tooth. But those bright eyes were still sharp, looking him over head to toe. "Well come on in, have some tea. How's that momma cow doing? She get her teats healed up?" He resisted the urge to brush himself off, make sure everything was all set up right. "Yessir. She's doing right well. I'd love some tea." Mr. Jarrell took his hat off as they went in, setting it on the counter by the door. Next to Wayne's straw Stetson. "You have a seat and I'll pour some." He didn't know what to introduce Wayne as -hand? Help? Lover? Friend? Oh, that was good. His friend. "Thank you kindly, son." The old man sat right down, crossing his ankle over his knee. "So I hear you got yourself a new hand." "Wayne? He's helping me out. He's a good friend, keeping my head above water and all." "Oh, well, that's nice, son." Mr. Jarrell watched him get the tea, reaching for it with a nod of thanks. "Word is y'all don't get out much." "Out? There's...there's lots of stuff to get fixed up here, sir. You know how it is." Oh God. Oh God. "I do. I just...well, I thought I'd come make sure you were doing all right." The door opened, Wayne poking his head in. "Everything okay, Rus?" "Yeah. Come on in and meet Mr. Jarrell. He's an old friend of the family. Mr. Jarrell? Anthony Wayne. Wayne, Richard Jarrell." Okay. He was cool. Way cool. Torquere Press Single Shot 42

"Oh, hey." Wayne came in, stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir." Mr. Jarrell stood, shook. "Where you from, son? I haven't seen you out and about?" "I'm from Wyoming, sir. I was just passing through when Rusty told me he needed some help about the place." Wayne smiled, his face lighting up, and damn. Rusty found himself nodding. "Wayne's helping me make stuff right around here." Helping him make stuff just fine -- bed to barn. "It's been my pleasure." Wayne grabbed a glass and poured some tea. "Miss Pol has a clean hoof now." "Thanks, man." It had been Wayne bending over Pol's hooves that had got them into trouble in the barn. "No problem. Should I take my Wranglers back outside?" Wayne wasn't dense; he could see there was tension in the air, Rusty would bet anything on it. Still, he wanted Wayne to know where he stood and shit. This was his place -- their place -- not anyone else's. "Nah, come on in and sit a spell." "Oh, thanks. Hot as the hubs of Hades out there." They all sat around the table, staring. "You, uh, you want me and Wayne to take your calves to auction? We're fixin' to run our extras out." He smiled over at the old man, thinking that Mr. Jarrell looked more and more like a dried apple as time passed. Mr. Jarrell just smiled a little. "Oh that would be nice. If Wayne doesn't mind."

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"I reckon there'll be room on the trailer, yeah?" Why would Wayne mind? "Why would I mind?" Wayne was just frowning, sorta looking like he felt. "I'd be right pleased to help if you need it." "Cool. We'll head out Wednesday morning. I'll call before we come." "Well, thank you, Rus. I do appreciate it." Man, those bright old eyes were just going from him to Wayne and back, and there wasn't a bit of disapproval there, really, just a knowing look that made him nervous. "Any time, sir. Any time at all." He meant it, too. Mr. Jarrell was damn near family. "So how long are you planning on staying, Wayne?" Old man Jarrell looked at him when he asked. Rusty found himself blushing hard, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Damn, now. Just damn. He sure hated feeling like he'd just fallen off the turnip truck. Wayne looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and a little wild. "Uh. Well, I guess until Rus doesn't have a need for me any more." "The rate the work piles up, that might be forever. He might just have to get bored on his own." That got him one of those looks, quiet and deep, the kind Wayne didn't show very often, but made him tingle. "Then I'll hang about." Oh. Oh, Hell, yes. Torquere Press Single Shot 44

Rusty nodded, praying that Mr. Jarrell hurried the fuck up and drank that tea. It was time. Now. "Well, boys. I ought to be going. Thank you for the tea, son. Y'all come on and get those calves when it's time." Jarrell got up, clapping Rusty on the shoulder and smiling at him, eyes twinkling. "Yes, sir. We'll be out Wednesday morning, bright and early.” He went to the door, opened it. "Good to see you, stop by any time." Well, maybe not any time. Soon as the door closed, Wayne breathed out a sigh and came to him, arms looping around him. "Everything okay?" "Yeah. You?" He reached up, held on some. "Yeah. That was...fuck, babe, that old man is something. You known him long?" Wayne’s skin was hot against him, where neck met shoulder. "My whole life. He was my granddaddy's best friend." He took a deep breath. "I'm thinking there's no time I won't have a need of you, Wayne." "You think, Rus?" Wayne looked at him, smile starting, those deep dimples starting up. "I wouldn't mind staying on." "Yeah?" He grinned like a pure fool. "I'd like that. Like that a lot." "Oh, good." Wayne kissed him hard, lips and tongue pressing against his.

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Oh, Hell yes. He pushed right back, tugging Wayne right on in. Wayne just hummed, kissing him so good, hands on his butt, squeezing. "Lock the door." He pushed into Wayne's hands, eyes rolling a little. They could. Right here. In the kitchen. "Yeah. Okay." Groping behind him, Wayne locked the door, the tiny click making them both gasp. Then Wayne was kissing him again, pushing him toward the kitchen table, spinning them in circles. "Want." His ass hit the table, thighs parting to let Wayne closer. "Right back, babe. I want you so bad..." Wayne scrabbled at his clothes, pushing at his shirt and yanking at his jeans. "Uh-huh. Soon." He pushed the napkin holder off the table as he tugged his shirt off. "Uh-huh." Oh, yeah, Wayne was all concentration, lip caught between his teeth, sunbleached curls bouncing. His jeans slid off so fast he thought he might have fabric burn. "More." He got one leg loose of boot and jeans, spreading wide, feeling like a slut, but needing it. Needing Wayne so bad. Grunting, Wayne moved back, bent down to nuzzle his belly, chin rubbing him through the soft cotton of his shorts. They came off, too, so fast, and before he could even blink, Wayne sucked him in. "Oh!" His ass left the table and then slapped back down hard enough to sting.

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"Mmm." Oh, someone liked that as much as he did. Wayne's moan vibrated around him, shaking him. Spreading him even more, Wayne sucked him all the way down, nose brushing his curls. Oh. Lights flashed on his eyelids and he just sorta shorted out, hips bucking furiously. Wayne's mouth was... Damn. Just damn. Those soft lips drove him higher and higher until he was just flying. Wayne nibbled and licked the tip before sliding back down, fingers lifting his balls. His thighs went rock-hard, toes curling up. "Wayne. Sweet fuck. I… Damn." There was no answer except Wayne clamping that hot mouth down around him, nudging his hole with one finger. He sure hoped Mr. Jarrell was way down the road, as loud as his cry was, just tearing out of him as he came. Wayne licked him clean before moving up to stand between his legs. He couldn't even remember when they'd stopped using condoms, but it was telling that they had. Wayne rubbed. "Want you." "Uh-huh. Uh-huh." He slid to the edge of the table, nodded. "Come on." His back was hot, the metal edge of the table cold on his ass. Wayne wet his fingers, pushing two against him, pressing inside. "Yeah, babe. Yeah."

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"Yeah." He got off on this, on the stretch, the pressure. "Fuck, you're hot." Those fingers moved, opening him up, and a third one slipped right in, Wayne just moaning and panting for him. Rolling up, shoulders leaving the table, he bore right down, feeling so hot, so fine. He just took more and more, Wayne's fingers fucking him. Working him good, Wayne finally slipped his fingers out, the broad head of Wayne's cock nudging him. "You ready for me?" "Hell, yes. Born ready." Wayne grinned at him and he smiled back, heart just pounding. They came together so damned easy, Wayne sliding right in like he was meant to be there. There was no stopping that first, deep thrust, and soon Wayne was seated, hips against his ass, their skin burning. "Uhn." Everything just went white-hot and bright, his cry filling the air, joining right up with Wayne's. "Oh, babe." They started moving together, skin slapping. Wayne's grip on his hips was bruising, just so damned tight and good. Rusty was up on his elbows, helping Wayne, adding his strength to the thrusts. Wayne was just plunging into him, hot as a brand, thick and deep. Bending, Wayne kissed him hard, teeth biting into his lips. He bucked, slid a little, Wayne's cock pegging his gland hard. "Oh! Fuck! Again!" "Got it, babe." Yeah, Wayne had it, hitting the spot over and over, rubbing him inside and out. Then Wayne grabbed his cock and started pumping. Torquere Press Single Shot 48

That was all she wrote, and Rusty shot, spunk spraying over his belly, hot as fire. Two, maybe three sharp thrusts later, Wayne came deep inside him, his face set in a hard grimace, a low wail coming from him. Rusty just sort of blinked, buzzing all over. Hell, yeah. "Damn, Rus. You're like a firecracker." "Just wanting you." "You got me." Those eyes were serious. "For as long as you want me." He nodded. "I'm thinking full-time permanent sounds damn fine to me, Wayne." "That sounds like a plan, babe. A real good one. I like it here." Wayne chuckled, cheeks flushed. "And the benefits are good." He squeezed, ass clenching around Wayne's cock. "Top of the line, man." Gasping, Wayne nodded furiously. "Best I've ever had." He chuckled, squeezing again and again. "Come to bed and we'll talk about more... What do they call them? Perks?" "Hell, yes." They moved, Wayne pulling out gently. "Too bad I can't carry you." "I'll walk. You can watch my butt. You like that..." "Hell, yes, I like your ass. It's the finest thing ever." Wayne meant it, too, he could tell.

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He grinned, hopped off the table, and got rid of his other boot, making sure Wayne got an eyeful. A man had to work at making sure his forever-thing stayed interested. *** Wayne woke up horny. Not that him waking up horny was an unusual turn of affairs. In fact it happened ninetynine percent of the time. Well, okay, ninety-five, but he figured that was because he was getting older. What was an unusual turn of affairs, and a damned pleasant one, too, was that he woke up with someone who could take care of it. Wayne reached for Rusty and came up empty, eyes popping open to glare at the empty bed. Damn it. He was gonna nail that freckled ass to the bed so the fella would be there when he woke up. He listened close and grinned. Shower. Well, he could do morning shower sex as well as bed sex. Ambling into the bathroom, morning wood bobbing along in front of him, Wayne yanked the shower open and stepped in, not even giving into the passing urge to flush the toilet and hear Rusty holler. Oh, yeah. Wet Rusty. Nice. Where should he start? He'd start with the back since it was to him, so Wayne grabbed the soap, enthusiastically soaping Rusty's butt. Rusty groaned and wiggled, that tight little ass rocking into his hands, thighs parting for balance. "Mornin'."

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"Morning. Don't you look fine this morning." That butt got rinsed clean, and Wayne snugged up against it, rubbing. Oh, damn, that felt good. Broad shoulders leaned forward, gave him a little more friction, spread those cheeks just a bit. The water rolled right down Rusty's spine and splashed, all nice and hot, against his cock. If life could get any better, he just didn't want to know it. Wayne rubbed, just nice and slow and happy, hands working that long back. "You awake enough to have a go without falling over?" "Mmm... You keep touching, and I'll be awake for damn near anything." Rusty looked over one shoulder and gave him a grin, then started rocking against his prick, butt cheeks squeezing. "Oh, good." Rocking up on his tip toes got him even better friction, and Wayne just went to town, reaching past Rusty to brace himself on one arm. Leaning a little, Rusty licked and nibbled on the curve of his elbow, nipping and moaning when he pushed hard. "Mmm. Yeah." He did some nibbling of his own, scraping his teeth over Rusty's shoulder blade. That got him a shiver and a jerk, fingers sliding on the old blue tile. "Wayne!" "Yeah. I'm thinking someone else woke up a little horny. Nice of you to let me sleep, babe, but you coulda got me up. Hell, you get me up any time. We still got that lube in the shower caddy?"

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"I... Uh... Yeah. Lube. Damn, you make my brain fuddled." Rusty scrabbled for it, handing him back the plastic bottle. "Good. You make mine melty." He was just a man with his eye on the prize was all. He got the stupid tube open without having to move his balance hand and got two fingers good and slick before pushing against Rusty's hole. "You with me, babe?" "Yeah..." Rusty stretched, opening right up and pulling his fingers in that tight heat. "Oh, yeah." "Damn. You make me crazy." Didn't take him any time at all to get Rusty ready, and he was ready just as fast, and he was pushing in, pulling Rusty down as he pushed up. "Oh. Oh Rus." "Uh-huh. 'S good, Wayne. More." Rusty wrapped his hands around the shower head, stabilizing them. "More." Never say he wasn't one to give a man what he asked for, especially when it matched what he wanted so well. Digging in with his toes, Wayne began to thrust, moving back and forth hard. Low, hungry sounds echoed, almost drowning out the water falling all around them. Rusty was clenched tight around him, skin flush and pink. Hot. So damned hot they were making their own steam as the water cooled a bit. Wayne pushed deep, the feeling of Rusty around him scalding his skin. "Wayne!" Rusty arched, jerking hard, head falling back as his hot-off-the-mark lover shot, not even touching that stiff, needy prick.

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"Fuck!" That was it. Took him right where he needed to be, and Wayne pumped hard, shooting like crazy, moaning his head off. Rusty leaned into the wall, breathing hard, body still squeezing him. "M...mornin'." He leaned, just a little, catching his breath. "Morning." "I got up early, finished the morning feeding. No reason a man couldn't find the sheets again, get 'em sticky." "Oh, that sounds like a fine idea." They got all untangled and got out of the shower to dry off and head back to bed. Nothing like waking up horny and having someone to share it with. Nothing at all. END.

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Back Forty Copyright © 2005 by BA Tortuga All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502. Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press: Single Shot electronic edition / February 2005 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.

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