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Cody, Wyoming, October, 1944.
There were two buildings up ahead, I'd call them cabins but they aren't. They're stone walled structures. There are plenty of trees out here, but a lot more rocks.
"Don't much cotton to no strangers out here, mister, especially Eastern city folk." Chuck said, whittling on a stick on his front porch in a rocking chair. A large black shaggy dog lay at his feet. "Blackie don't neither."
"Don't have to be strangers."
"Yes we do until I say we don't."
"I'm not out here by choice, but I can't go back," I said. I extended my hand, "My names Bill." Blackie sat up, his eyes never left me, but he didn't bark or growl.
Reaching a hand out to his master was probably not a good idea.
"Chuck," he said, not extending a hand.
"Why you here? Bill."
"Because there's hardly anybody out here, and I can hide."
"Bill's a good name for out here, if it is your name, this is Buffalo Bill Cody territory. That's how the town got named. These mountains can be a tough life for any man."
"Had no choice."
"I need a job." Chuck.
Chuck stopped whittling and Blackie laid back down. "You sit a horse well, can you shoot?"
"I'm pretty good at it."
"Ever killed an animal, gutted it and skinned it?" Chuck was a hunter/trapper.
"... and more." I answered.
"I can give you a place to live and feed you, but can't pay much at all. You can stay in the barn There ain't much in there except my horse and a bunch of elk skins and pelts hanging from the rafters. Don't smell all that good, but you get used to it.
There's an empty stall for your horse. There's a fire place in there to keep you and the horses warm. That's going to be your responsibility. Ain't no bed in there, but there are a bunch of empty crates you can tie together and sleep on, I've got an old quilt I can lend you.
"Got a sleeping bag, Chuck, I'll be okay."
"You can't sleep on the ground, Bill, it's getting too cold, and nights up here can get fierce. It's warm now, but when the sun sets behind the Rockies it gets really cold. Lots of chores you can help me with, cutting and splitting cord wood is one of them. When I make money, you can take some of it. Won't pay you, but I'll leave it out, you can take your share; but if you ain't up to hunting; deals off.
"Try me."
I went with chuck and Blackie to check his traps; caught a few. Some we let loose most we saved/killed. "Skin it," said Chuck, handing me a knife.
Didn't know what I was doing, but it's pretty easy with a little instruction.
"What do we do with the rest?'
"Just leave it there, carrion feeders will eat it before morning. Look up." The sky was almost dark with vultures and birds of prey, the latter won't eat carrion, but they'll go after a fresh kill.
"What do we do if you catch a wolf or something bigger?"
"A bear, elk, or buffalo can get out by themselves. A rare wolf Blackie distracts and I let loose, but where we put the traps they're not likely to be. Ain't many wolves now; sheep farmers pretty much killed them off." We had about nine pelts of different kinds.
Once back at the barn, and drying the pelts, I asked Chuck, "What do you men do out here to meet a `man's needs?'"
He turned on me, angry, "You know damn fucking well. I ain't gonna tell you, and sure ain't gonna show you!"
Turns out he actually did. He had a bathroom of sorts in the house, I had to use an old outhouse. I went out one night. I heard groaning on the porch. Chuck was there in a union suit at the rail. The flap was down, he was doing something with his ass with his left hand, but I couldn't see that well, and was pounding the hell out of his cock with the other hand working out the front. He is a loud and profane cummer, but a quick one. I couldn't see much, but I knew what was going on. "Damn nosy city boy," he said, putting himself away.
I went back to the barn, more than a little turned on by what I had just witnessed. I stripped down and sat on a crate. The contrast of the heat of the fire on my front with the cool of the barn on my back, was exhilarating. I worked one out faster than normal (it had been a long time) and shot a load onto the hearth. It immediately spluttered, steamed and dried up. Hot cum smells a lot stronger until it's gone. I dressed and crawled back into bed.
We went big game hunting the next day, Elk (second biggest deer), there were buffalo but there wasn't a market for that these days. Blackie didn't come.
"See him, Bill?
"Where do I shoot."
He told me, I fired, the elk collapsed, dead by the time we got to it.
"Good shot, Bill."
"I've done better at smaller targets,"
We gutted it then loaded it over my saddle and lap. We skinned it and quartered it at the ranch, threw the carcass and the dried skins and pelts from the barn in a buckboard and went into Cody proper to sell them.
Chuck got almost $300, spent over half of it at a general store on a lot of supplies, winter was just around the corner. I bought some stuff too, including a skinning knife. Chuck introduced me as Bill, we still didn't know each other's last names. I ended up with $30, it was my elk. Where Chuck lived, if you didn't have it, you couldn't get it; in the city you could get pretty much everything you might need.
That night a freak snow storm hit, the winds were fierce, it was snowing horizontal until the wet snow hit something, then stuck.
There's a door between the house and the barn, that's how I ate. Chuck was a shitty cook; but it was that or starve. "Get your ass in here, Bill. This could kill you if you went out in it. The horses will be alright where they are, just throw a horse coat over them. " Never been in the house before. To say it was sparse was an over statement. Except for a small bathroom, it was pretty much one room. There was a large bed by the fireplace, a small dining table with one chair, and a well-worn easy chair, a small kitchen area with a wood stove, a sink with a water pump and that's all.
The house was lit with oil lamps, the one power line had been trashed by the wind long ago that night.
"Hungry, Chuck?"
"Not especially."
Didn't believe him. He had a root cellar and a chill cellar (kept cold by lake ice that lasted for months), both accessible from inside the house. Got some stuff and made a venison stew with biscuits. Chuck took the chair, and I turned over the wood box to sit on.
"Damn good, Bill!"
"Chuck got up, went to a cabinet and brought out a bottle. "Want some of this."
"I said yes, a little." He rinsed out two coffee cups, didn't wash them, and poured me more than a little.
I took a swallow, it burned like fire all the way down and I gasped. He laughed. I drank more of it just to be polite. He finished it; never again.
We both washed up after dinner.
"Time to be getting to bed," said Chuck, "Morning comes early."
"I'll sleep in the chair," said Bill.
"No need, Bill, it's a big bed, and it's by the fire. We can share it."
"We stripped down to our undies and slipped under the quilt."
"When is the last time you washed this?"
"I wash it when it needs it," Chuck answered.
"Needs it, Chuck. Why don't you take it off. I'll wash it and the rest of your stuff tomorrow."
"I'm not going to be the only one nekid in here."
I got up and stripped off my two-piece long johns, he watched as I did it. He did the same. He saw all of me, all I saw was the backside of a what looked like a black bear.
We went to bed a respectable distance from each other, but when I awoke, my head was on his shoulder and my hand was low on his furry abs. I startled and sat up.
"You don't have to go away. Bill," Chuck murmured.
"Just getting up to put on coffee, then I'll be back."
I crawled back in next to him. Put my head back on his shoulder and my hand on his belly, then my hand began to wander, at first up to his firm, left fury peck. I groped it and played with his nipple for a couple of minutes, then he slid my hand down to his crotch, he was already hard.
"Grab it, Bill."
I knew that when he told me to grab it, he didn't mean just hold it. I started to stroke him. He was as big there as he was everywhere, and just as hairy. He was pushing eight inches of thick uncut man meat. I couldn't see it, but I know how big my hand is.
"Harder, Bill." "Whose doing this Chuck, you or me." "Guess we both are."
I dove under the quilt and put him in my mouth.
"Oh shit, Bill, no one's ever done that."
"Don't think it will be the last time," I said, taking a brief break.
Chuck's a quick cummer, a loud and profane one, but he doesn't produce much.
"Can I do that to you."
"Sure, Chuck." I threw the quilt back. Need l say, I already had a boner. Chuck grabbed my balls with his right hand (one hell of a grip), stroked my cock a couple times, then went all the way down on me, a little too fast, but I wasn't going to correct him. After a few minutes he asked, "You going to cum, Bill"
"Real close, Chuck." He went back down. In a few seconds I blew.
"Geez, Bill, that was a mouthful."
"Coffee?"
"Cream?"
"Already had enough cream, just black."
Chuck was lying naked in bed now. I had just blown a bear. He's big, 6' 2" maybe and stocky completely covered with black hair. That thing I played with is hard to see, but easy to find. Me, nothing special; 5'9" in army boots. I'm small but wiry and surprisingly strong and a little vicious. I used to get picked on in high school; let's just say that was a mistake. Little body hair except where all men have it. I like to say I support six and a half inches, but it's really barely six (we all stretch it and lie, except those like Chuck who don't need to!), as thick as normal and cut.
"That was nice, Bill, really nice, and you're not going back to the barn."
"Want some flapjacks."
"Love `em, but I'm not sure I got the stuff."
"You do, I did a little shopping the other day, too. If you didn't have the stuff, you wouldn't have had the biscuits last night. I hadn't seen your larder, but there we a few things I didn't expect you would have."
"Butter or honey?
"Both."
"You's a damn good cook, Bill." You want to go trapping with us this morning?
"That's the first time you asked. Why don't you and Blackie go? You know where the traps are I don't and could step on one in this snow. I'll help you hang the pelts when you get back."
After breakfast I packed a lunch for Chuck, left over biscuits, venison jerky and a cup. He could always drink snow melt. He left. I went to the barn, turned Heather out to the corral, and got some stuff, it was also the storage area. I brought one more chair in and a galvanized bath tub, there was plenty of space for it. I put it on Blackie's rug next to the fire to keep it warm, filled it with warm water and took a bath myself with Fels Naptha soap, cleans everything, but you don't want it in your eyes. Chuck actually had a lot of towels because he never used them, wet hands get dried on coveralls, and napkins were fingers.
I washed his clothes and mine in the bath tub (those long johns had been on the porch more than once) and rinsed them in the sink under the pump. I ran a rope across the room next to the fire to dry them. The air was dry but a lot warmer today, they dried pretty fast.
I checked out the larder for dinner. Got some deer bones and onions to make a thick sauce and started them cooking. I planned something nice. Put some more bath water on if Chuck need it. They would be back again soon.
"Halloo, I heard and Blackie was scratching at the door."
"Want, me to put Danger away?"
"Not yet, he'll be happy with Heather for a while. If he wants, he can get to his stall. Chuck led his horse to the barn, took off the tackle and let him loose.
"Catch anything?"
"Just a skunk, which we let loose."
"What's that," asked Chuck
"A bathtub you had in the barn. You obviously haven't used it in a while, there were birds' nests in it. You needed it before, you really need it now. Better leave your boots outside. Strip down, I know you don't want to be naked alone, and I stripped down too. "Hop in," he did. I actually bathed him, head to toe, he let me do it. When I washed the fun parts (the cleanest part of any man coming out of a bath or shower because it's so much fun to wash) they were bigger every time. I could tell when he was fully hard (been there before) and gave a few more hygiene-unnecessary strokes.
"This stays nice and warm by the fire, but you have to keep moving."
"Got any more hot water?"
"Way ahead of you, Chuck. Keep the water moving while I add this."
He laid back with a relaxing sigh. "Could I have a cigar?'
"Don't have any, Chuck."
"I do, on the shelf with the white bottle."
"He laid back, smoked the cigar, and look as contented as a man can be."
"Got any more hot water, Bill."
"Yes, Chuck, but that soap can irritate your skin if you stay in it too long."
"Give me the water, My hide is as tough as any in the barn. I'll get out when I finish the cigar."
I handed him a towel and started to dress.
"You don't need to put your clothes on unless you want to, I'm not going to," said Chuck.
That was a surprise, this relationship may be opening up.
He sat in his easy chair, turned on the Crosley Radio (the power line had been restored).
"Billy ..."
"Billy's nice, but I'm Bill, Chucky..."
"Understood, Bill. Can I have another cigar? "You don't have a lot of these." " Don't smoke a lot, but today I feel like it. Sit down and listen with me."
"I can hear it." The signal wasn't good up here, but was intelligible. It probably originated from Denver, a straight shot with no mountains in the way.
Chuck preferred comedy shows: Amos and Andy, Fibber Magee and Molly, Jack Benny. When News programs came on, they were all about the war, he turned it off. Fine by me.
I emptied the tub, Blackie was instantly back on his rug, but still keeping an eye on me.
"Come here and sit with me," said Chuck.
I threw some more wood into the cook stove, grabbed a chair and went over to sit with him. The radio was back on playing music, he turned the volume down.
"Not there, Bill. Come and sit with me here little guy," he said patting his lap. I wasn't sure, but I did it. I put my head on his shoulder and an arm around him. He gave me a bear hug, not a crushing squeeze, but naked it was the only kind of hug he could give.
Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined both of us naked in an embrace in that chair. We were both getting happy, I could feel his cock growing into my ass crack.
"Want to take these guys back to bed?"
I didn't answer, just crawled out of his lap and crawled in bed.
"Can we do that again?"
"Yes, Chuck, but we can do it together."
I flipped over, pushed his head into my crotch then took his cock in my mouth. I gripped his boner at the root, I couldn't take any more of him than what stuck out my hand. Chuck was having fun with my cock head, licking and sucking it like a lolly pop, then he'd take me all the way. He was aggressive, I was not; I needed it to cum quickly, he needed it slow and steady to hold him off. I avoided his cock head and foreskin, just sucked on his shaft. He came first, but only by seconds. We rolled on our backs.
He cupped my nuts. "Are these balls or an udder? You make a lot of cream, Bill."
I laughed, I made more cum than him, but not really all that much. In high school we used to have jerk-circle competitions. I usually had more than most (except for one guy who when he came it wouldn't stop; didn't shoot it just came draining out of his piss hole for minutes.) but not a lot, but mine was always a power load. I think it was the blast that Chuck was responding to rather to that than the volume, it would have painted his mouth and the back of his throat.
"Gotta get back to working on supper?"
"Why you putting on your pants?" "Because if I spill something I want it on these, I said, holding up my long john pants, "not this," I said shaking my cock and balls at him.
"Good idea, Bill. Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to them."
"What's for dinner?" "Something special." "Sure smells good." "Going to get better." I answered.
"Think I'm going to take a little nap, you done wore me out, Bill."
I went over to the bed to tuck him in. He made a little whistle and Blackie was right there beside him.
Cooking on a wood stove isn't easy, but I was getting the hang of it.
Dinner was ready. Venison tenderloin wrapped in pork side bacon with a thick herbed bone sauce that I had cooked all day, potatoes fried in pork fat (side bacon has a lot of extra fat), and roasted brussel sprouts. Chuck had quite an amazing winter larder, and space for it, both cool and chilled. I suspect he traded meat for vegetables and such from local farmers.
I stuck my head under the quilt, licked his balls until he stirred.
"Whether that's you, Bill, or Blackie, (I had a competitor.) don't stop." "You gotta get up, Chuck, dinners on the table." "You have to get up; gotta feed you to keep your stamina up." "For what," Chuck asked. I slapped him pretty hard on the balls, he seemed to like it. "We'll get back to this tonight. Promise." I said.
"I just bought a lot of stuff in Cody I thought you wouldn't have, most you didn't. Spent most of my share."
"Where did you learn to cook like this?"
"My family has money, if they didn't, I'd be in jail instead of here. I was raised by a nanny/cook. I learned from her. Nowhere near as rustic as here, but the principles are the same. It will get better." "Can't see how it can, Bill."
Chuck finished his dinner and sopped up every drop of sauce with a slice of bread, didn't even need to wash the plate.
"Do you want some pie?" I had made a small apple pie from apples in the larder, more than enough for two.
"Geese, Bill how do you do this?'
"Magic," I said.
He had just had a large dinner, but devoured more than half the pie.
"When you dropped by, I told you I could feed you; tides have certainly turned."
"Coffee?
`No, but a shot of white lighting for me. There's a brown bottle in the back, bring both bottles and two of those glasses in there."
I put them on the table, "A French trapper gave me this when I off-loaded some hides (never a pelt) on him. I've never opened it, not much interested, but you can have it."
It was an imported cognac, and a good one. I opened it and poured myself a glass, took a sip, spiritual honey. "Where'd you get these glasses, these are special." "They were my mother's, but I never use them. A tin cup is more my style of drinking."
I poured another cognac; Chuck was on his fourth shot. Blackie got a lot of gravy and scraps. "Slow down, Chuck, if you want what you said you wanted tonight."
"Mind your own business!" he growled.
"It is kind of my business, Chuck."
He drank the rest in one gulp and said, "Let's go to bed."
I put the liquor and crystal away.
I turned down the lamps, threw some wood on the fire and crawled into bed, both still naked. "You're so tired your already falling asleep, your gut's stuffed full and you're a little bit (?) drunk. Let's pick the fun up in the morning."
"No."
"I say, yes, and it takes two unless you want to freeze your balls off jacking on the porch. Just kiss me good night, and we'll sleep together."
"Not sure about kissin."
"Come on, Chuck, you had your lips around my cock and I've had mine around yours, what's a kiss but those lips touching?" I kissed him, he kissed me. All reluctance was gone. We kissed a while until he fell asleep; another coming-up lesson for Chuck.
"Coffee?" I said waking Chuck.
"Got cream?"
"As much as you want," I answered.
"I doubt it," said Chuck.
"Try me."
We finished our coffee, then I crawled back in bed. We threw back the quilt and he was ready, it was all I needed to get ready too. This time he flopped over for the 69. He asked, " Can you stick a finger or two up my ass while we're doing this, it gets itchy."
"I can do a whole lot better than that!" I answered. I got up to get a bottle of mineral oil then came back. I rolled his legs up and rimmed him. "Feels good, Bill, but really stick something in there."
I oiled my cock and his hole then slowly entered him.
"Oh yeah, Bill."
Then I started to fuck him, jacking his cock while I did it.
He was moaning and writhing as I pounded his ass. I knew he'd want it hard, and I did my best to give it to him. He came on his belly, but I kept fucking and jacking. He tried to stop me, but I had a firm grip on his cock and he didn't soften.
"That hurts now, Bill."
"I know, but it's a nice hurt," I said, still hammering his ass and cock. He was twisting and turning. I finally came and then collapsed on his chest. We were both sweating and panting.
"Damn, Bill, it felt like you were going to rip my cock off."
"I didn't and wouldn't; I have too much fun with it. You have to admit you liked it."
"Yeah, Bill, but I wouldn't want to do that every time."
"You got another one of those in there," I said, patting him gently on the balls.
"Don't know, never tried more than one."
"Let's mess around for about a half hour, then we'll see."
I kissed him, no reluctance. Then I sucked on his upper lip, then his lower one, "Do this with me." We kissed like that for a while, then I told him to open his mouth a little. I slid my tongue in between his lips and touched his tongue. He caught on quick. All the while I was playing in his fur, his abs, chest and nipples and pubes. He toyed with my nipples.
Before long we were both fully erect again. I gave Chuck's cock a couple of firm pumps and said, "Time to get this show on the road again."
"Can I do that to you?" he asked.
"You can lick my hole, but I'm not sure I can take all of you in me, but I'm willing to try."
I lifted my legs and he went down on my ass. His tongue was as aggressive in sex as the rest of him. It was good.
"Can I fuck you, Bill?"
"We can try."
I lubed his cock and my ass and he tried to enter me; couldn't do it.
"Let's try this another way, roll over on your back."
I mounted him cowboy style. I was in charge of the penetration. It hurt like hell, but once he was all the way in the pain eased. I rode him slowly for a while until I knew I was loosened up.
"Okay, Chuck, your turn. I'm your cowboy, you're my bronco. Grab my cock and try to buck me off, get those hips pumping." It was a wild ride. I came, but he kept pumping both my ass and cock. My cock head gets very sensitive, but post cum "torture" is something I like. It is a sweet pain.
I could tell when Chuck came, anyone within a mile (which means nobody) would have known, he's loud and he's profane. He stopped bucking and let go of my cock.
"Bill, before you showed up, my only sex partners for years were Righty and Lefty. You've been a life changer for me." I dismounted slowly. "Let me get us something to eat, Chuck."
He grabbed my cock and said, "How about this?"
"No, you horny bastard, something you can bite, chew and swallow. You can bite that, carefully, but not the other two."
I made French toast out of left-over bread with deer bacon, and served it like he likes it.
"Are we going to go hunting, today, Chuck?"
"Don't think so."
"We've got to at least check the traps, Chuck. This can't just be a sex palace."
"Why not?"
"Get your ass out of bed and let's get dressed." I'm glad we did; all the traps were sprung. We let two go (too small) and brought five skins home.
After dinner we shared a drink, him white lightning and me cognac. We sat on the bed, naked again roasting our nuts in front of an open fire. "Chuck, you're a hunter/trapper and you've been kind of neglected that."
"I hunted and trapped you."
"No you didn't. If you had your way I'd been turned loose the moment I showed up. You know what I mean. Sex is good, way better than Amos and Andy, but if we don't hunt, despite all the food in your larder, we don't eat."
"Really ain't a problem, Bill. It's just been all so new to me. You're right, I've got to get my head back on straight."
We did get back to normal, with the a lot of sex added, but usually naked with each other in the house now. One day after breakfast coffee (we almost always had breakfast in bed), Chuck said, "You'd make someone a good wife, Bill." I grabbed his balls and gave them a really hard squeeze. "Do you mean these." I wasn't happy with the comment.
"No, I doubt many men have been more sexually satisfied than we are, but that's not what I meant. This used to be a dump until you came, now you take care of the house and me as well as any wife can, and you can hunt."
Our life continued undisturbed for four months. There was knock on the door. Chuck got up dressed and answered it. "Can I help you?"
"I'm from the Army Desertion and Apprehension team, we're looking for Corporal Robert Arthur Morris."
"Ain't me and he ain't here."
"We heard there was a young man here,"
"Yes, I'm Chuck Granger (never heard the last name before) and he's my nephew, Bill,"
"Can I talk to him?"
"Yes, but he's bed ridden, a horse accident."
"You have to talk to his right ear, his left was deafened by a broken breach in a shot gun which also damaged his right eye. He tried to enlist in Cody, but they rejected him because of the disability. Let me waken him."
"Did you get all that, Bill?"
"Yes," he answered.
Put this on, I gave him his shirt.
"Come on in, remember he can't hear out of his right ear."
"Corporal Robert Arthur Morris?"
"Is that you?" Jim asked.
"No, it's you."
"I'm Bill Granger, I don't know what you're talking about. Can I have some water Uncle Chuck?"
"Ever been in the military?"
"No, I tried like every man who didn't have a family to support. They wouldn't take me."
"I'd like you to come with me."
Chuck spoke up, "No way mister, he can't even get out of bed by himself. Bring an arrest warrant and the sheriff and an ambulance or go away. The records are in Cody if that office is still open, write this down." I gave him a pencil and a piece of paper.
William James Granger, born February 2, 1924. Cody, Wyoming.
The agent turned back to Jim. "What is your social security registration number?"
"He can't hear you, just a minute." Chuck rolled me over.
"What is your social security registration number?"
"Don't have one, never had a job."
"What is your Selective Service (draft) number."
"Not old enough to have one, doesn't make any difference now."
"I'll be back."
"I doubt it," said Chuck.
"Thank you, Chuck, you may have saved my life, but what if they check the records? I've got to get my ass out of here."
"That's the last thing you want to do, leave and you'll be dead meat. If they come back and you're not here they'll track you down, and shoot you on sight."
"If they check the records, you'll be even safer. There is a Bill Granger, really my nephew, all the rest is true. His mother died in childbirth. His father, my older brother, dumped Bill on me, and I raised him. He was really denied enlistment for sensory deprivation. His friend, Jeremy, and he moved up to Laramie. I've got his/your birth certificate here somewhere. You/he probably have a Social Security registration number, with the birth certificate you can get a copy of it.
Epilog:
Bill was Robert Morris. He and his older brother stormed Normandy Beach on D-Day. He saw his brother's body decimated by a mortar explosion. He had killed a lot of men, discharging his weapon to release the bayonet. Every time he killed a man it wasn't war, it was vengeance for his brother. He had to get out. He stole clothes and begged passage on a cargo ship to the US. He was the captain's cabin boy in every way you can imagine.
*** If you enjoyed this story I'd like to hear from you; if not I need to.