"Stagecoach to Laramie"
Part 2
The trail that Slater was looking for was straight ahead. They went a few hundred yards and stopped dead in their tracks. The old shed had fallen down, lying in a ruble of boards and overgrowth. There was a hunting party of Comanche Indians camping there.
The Comanche braves were friendly; however, Slater and Jake had no desire to meet with them. They turned around and headed back to Laramie, riding faster leaving, than arriving.
"So much for that idea," remarked Jake. He was sure he would be plugging Slater's butt about now. "Dang it," he thought quietly to himself. He only wanted to fuck him, and then move on.
Back in Laramie, Jonathan, Sarah, and Herman were sitting in front of the hotel waiting, as they rode back into town, from the country. Slater's pa had just paid for the Cooper House on Main Street. They planned on living in town; however, Slater wanted no part of Laramie. He fancied being somewhere else, and working on a farm.
"Say, why don't you folks stay the ranch, until your belongings arrive." suggested Herman pointing to his Surry (buggy) parked in front of the hotel. Jake can drive, and there is room for everybody," announced Herman.
"Are you sure?" asked Sarah, not wanting to intrude.
"Of course – of course, we have plenty of room and an excellent cook. Since my wife passed on, "Summer Cloud," an Indian half-breed has been the housekeeper and cook. Carrie, my wife, met Hanna many years ago. Hanna had a little Indian boy named Summer Cloud, fathered by an Indian brave. When Hanna passed away from a fever, Carrie raised Summer Cloud and changed his name to Sonny. He had darker skin than our own child Jake did, which was evidence of his Indian heritage.
"I'm sure we will love him," agreed Sarah.
Slater returned the rented horses to Sam at the stable, and then hopped into the buggy next to his pa. They were on their way to the Jenkins Ranch.
For the next few days, the two families worked, dined, and stayed together. Word came that the household goods and furniture had arrived in Laramie for the new house that John and Sarah were about to call home.
They left that morning however; Slater stayed with Jake and Herman to help with a cattle drive to the train depot in town. They went to the corral to double count the small herd they were taking to the depot in Laramie. The days of herds walking 100 miles a month, was in the past. Now cattle went out of town to the stockyards, by train.
Jake stood next to a woodpile and heaved his cock from the tight western jeans that he wore. He needed to take a wicked piss and there was no time like the present. Nobody was around except Slater, so he did it for his benefit. Up to now, they did a little touching but fearful of being naked while Slater's parents were around. That was about it.
A stream of hot piss bombarded from Jake' cock, wetting the woodpile, like a garden hose. Slater was beside him in two seconds with his hand on Jake's shoulder watching the movement of an impressive pecker spraying pee on a chunk of wood. He put his hand in Jake's piss stream and then licked his finger. When Jake finally stopped, there were still a couple of pee drops. Slater bent over and licked clean Jake's flesh, sucking on the meaty pork he had thought about all week.
It took only seconds for Jake's pecker to wake up throbbing in Slater's warm mouth. A quickie was not what Jake had planned with Slater. He thought naked lying down, sniffing and licking cock and balls was the way to go. Perhaps later, but for now, with no time to reciprocate, it was this, or nothing at all.
It was the wrong time to be gay in Wyoming. Jake was nervous not knowing if somebody would see them. It did not bother Slater that much; he could simply leave and go away. As badly as he wanted Slater to stop, he wanted him to keep sucking even more. Blowjobs were rare round Laramie and the ones cowboys usually got were from whores – "Yuck," they were terrible.
Sauce flowed generously from Jack' piss slit over Slater's tongue. He struggled to swallow but lost most of it on the ground. It was obvious the cowboy needed more experience handling cum loads.
Back in Laramie, Sarah, and Herman were sitting in front of the hotel. Slater's pa, Jonathan, had just bought the Cooper House on Center Street. They planned on living in town, and running the mercantile, which was up for sale. Slater wanted no part of Laramie, and fancied preferably a farm.
"Say, why don't you folks stay at the ranch, with Jake and me until your belongings arrive?" suggested Herman, pointing to his Surry (buggy) parked in front of the hotel. You can't move into the Cooper house yet for another week."
"Are you sure?" asked Sarah, not wanting to intrude.
"We have plenty of room and an excellent cook. Since my wife passed on, "Summer Cloud," an Indian half-breed has been the housekeeper and cook. Carrie, my wife, met Hanna many years ago. Hanna had a little Indian boy named Summer Cloud, fathered by an Indian brave. When Hanna passed away from a fever, my wife raised Summer Cloud and changed his name to Sonny. He had darker skin than our own child Jake did, which was evidence of his Indian heritage.
"I'm sure we will love him," agreed Sarah.
"Of course – of course, Jake can drive," announced Herman. "Wonderful, we'll do it," John announced with Sarah smiling and nodding her head, "yes." *********
Slater returned the rented horses to Sam at the stable and then hopped into the buggy, to drive, sitting down next to his pa. They were on their way to the Jenkins Ranch.
For the next few days, the two families worked, dined, and stayed together as if actual relatives. Word came that the household goods and furniture had arrived in Laramie for the new house. They left that morning however; Slater stayed with Jake and Herman to help with a cattle drive to the train depot and would join them later.
Jake and Slater went to the corral to double-count the small herd they were taking to the depot in Laramie. The days of cattle walking 100 miles in a month were over. The cattle were now transported by train, to the stockyards.
Jake stood next to a woodpile and pulled his cock out from the western jeans that he wore. He needed to take a wicked piss, and there was no time like the present. Nobody was around except Slater, so he did it for his benefit. Up to now, they did a little touching but afraid to get naked while Slater's parents were around.
A clear stream of hot piss shot from Jake's cock like a garden hose. Slater was beside him in two seconds with his hand on Jake's shoulder, watching the movement of an impressive pecker spraying pee on a chunk of wood. He put his hand in Jake's piss stream and then licked his finger. When Jake finally stopped, there were still a couple of pee drops. Slater bent over and licked clean Jake's flesh, sucking on the meat he had thought about all week.
It took only seconds for Jake's pecker to wake up, throbbing in Slater's warm mouth. A quickie was not what Jake had planned with Slater. He thought naked lying down, sniffing and licking cock and balls was the way to go. Perhaps later, but for now, with no time to reciprocate, it was this or nothing.
It was the wrong time to be gay in Wyoming. Jake was nervous, not knowing when somebody would see them. It did not bother Slater that much; he could leave and go away. As badly as Jake wanted Slater to stop, he wanted him to keep sucking even more. Blowjobs were rare around Laramie, and the ones cowboys usually got were from whores – "Yuck," they were terrible. Sauce flowed generously from Jack's piss slit over Slater's tongue. He struggled to swallow but lost most of it on the ground. It was obvious the cowboy needed more experience handling cum loads. Still safe from prying eyes, they zipped up. Slater wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He smelled like cum, so Jake licked his mouth, then handed him a chaw of sweet tobacco. A little tobacco chewing was common.
"Holy crap, I hope I can still walk," Jake commented. He was surprised never expecting to drop a load, and Slater blowing him without warning.
"You owe me big brother, not now, of course, but I will collect, you can count on it. If you want to poke my butt – it' yours. I can imagine your pecker plugging my ass and flooding me with the sticky sauce those balls keeps producing. Gaud, I love the pecker on you.
They finished counting cattle and went back to give Pa the number. Slater had his own horse now and worked around the ranch as a farmhand. He was surprised when Herman handed him cash for helping out.
"No, Herman, I don't want to get paid. I like helping, and besides, I have been here a week, eating your food and sleeping in your house. My family owes you for being such a good friend.
"Would you like a paid job for the summer, here on the farm? It includes room and board. We could accomplished more with an extra hand and Jake would like having help. You two, are like brothers. Good – very good."
"Thank you, but I don't think so."
"Okay, I am only suggesting. You will need money and will have to work somewhere in town.
"What do you think I should do?" Slater asked Jake. Do you suppose we could work together?"
"Probably not, you're a pain in the ass; go annoy somebody in a town like a sweaty old blacksmith," Jake replied with that special twinkle in his eye.
Slater began laughing and put his arm around Jake's shoulder in a manly hold. I will take that job, Mr. Jenkins. Pay only for when I work, if that is agreeable?" spouted Slater like a negotiator.
"I'll divide time between here and my pa's house in Laramie. You know how mothers are with sons who are away for too long. Laramie is about three miles from here, and I can do both."
"Sure—sure, I don't bother keeping track. You tell me what you did, and that is how I will pay you. We are friends—good friends indeed."
Thank you for reading so far. To continue... Jbalancier9@yahoo.com
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