"A True Frontier Town"
Part 3 – Mark Sherwood
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Austin
Austin had enough money for steak and eggs, then returned to the livery stable, to talk with his Uncle Gus.
So you are Austin, you grew boy, surely did, grew like a weed. Is my sister Gladys, still hooked up with that no count John Blake?
"John's my pa, but he passed on last spring. Ma runs the farm with helpers."
"Bah, worthless old cuss, we never did cotton to one another. What can I do fer yuh? I'm supposin you want to stable your horse but now you're flat broke. Am I right?
"No Uncle Gus, you are wrong. Like I said before, I need a job. I rode a "fer piece" to get to Dodge."
"Letmee see, I could say, `If you rode in - you can ride out.' But, I do need stable help to wrangle, rub down, feed, and water the animals. Eh, and the stable has to be shoveled out every day. Horses piss like a river, and poop boulders like dropping from the hills. Wanna shovel shit boy?"
"Sure – sure, I know all that, being brought up on a farm.. What about a place to hanker down for the night." Inquired Austin, not surprised by anything Uncle Gus was telling him.
"I got me a little hay room in the back where you can bunk. Vittles are what I fix on that rickety cook stove outside the storage room. Nothing fancy, mostly stew, and sometimes, a chunk of catfish."
"No kidding huh, every plate is stew or catfish?" commented Austin.
"Pretty much."
This is not what Austin wanted to hear. Stew, a prairie name for "yucky food." A little of this, and a little of that, with not much quality, was stew.
Whatever miscellaneous items, one could find tossed in a pot with water and boiled into submission, was it. Most of the time stew was awful, but at least it was something to eat. For a decent meal, it was either home cooking or a table at Delmonico' restaurant in Dodge City.
"You hired yourself a hand, Uncle Gus. Where do I bunk?" asked Austin.
"Go straight ahead behind that door. Now, it ain't fancy, only a place to sleep, don't be expecting hotel accommodations.
"It will be fine, Uncle Gus."
"Dang blasted, stop calling me `Uncle' Gus. Just say Gus, like everybody else around here, and don't be touching me like a homo."
"Shore, okay, Gus it is." Austin remarked walking towards the dingy door to check where he was to sleep. His thoughts, however, were illegal to print. Gaud, what an awful man, no wonder his pa didn't like him.
The room was no larger than a closet. No bed, only hay bales piled up covered with a blanket to sleep on. It was a true barn and the mice running around clinched it. However, hay bales were better than sleeping on the ground.
Austin feared snakes and didn't like mice either in the room while sleeping. He wasn't happy, but as always, he would think of something.
He managed to get to sleep hating his surroundings. He had slept in barns many times, but this was different for some crazy reason.
He rested in the room with only the casual whimper of a horse or the squeaking of a floor board. All he could do was think, and his thoughts turned to Jeb. The more he thought, the more at ease he was becoming.
His cock was hard and automatically his hand was stroking away remembering Jeb naked coming out of the water. He felt the warmth of Jeb's body lying next to him.
His balls pulled up and snuggled under his hairy crotch. He knew cum would plaster his stomach, making a sticky mess.
Austin had no way to clean up surrounded by only straw bales and hay. He caught it in his hand and licked his hand pretending the cum was Jeb.
He had never done anything like this before, however he never before was in this situation, which he greatly regretted.
In the morning, Austin was proving how competent his ability around horses could be. He was there to work and that is what he intended to do.
A rider came after pushing his horse into a sweat and needed to be cooled down, watered, and fed. It was one job following another. Gus, his boozed up uncle, sat inside the barn, on a wagon, drinking hooch most of the time, paying little attention to business.
There is no pretty way to say it. The job was terrible, and the man called Gus, his ma's brother, was a drunken mean Old man.
Part - 4 Jeb