ChapterSix
Over the next two days,Will and I tutored each other in matters of great importance.
His lessons for me were much more enjoyable than the ones that I gave him. My teaching was about ranching—fencing in particular as we spent ten to twelve hours spraying weeds and/or wrestling with contrary barbed wire—and dead Greeks. Now that he’d started reading about Leonidas, he’d become engrossed with ancient Greco-Roman culture. He was incredibly curious about subjects he enjoyed. Weren’t we all? He bemoaned the fact that he’d been forced to read “boring ass garbage” in school. I wasn’t sure I’d call Moby Dick, The Great Gatsby, or To Kill a Mockingbird garbage, but I got what he was saying. I’d often thought that schools would grow more readers if they simply let kids read what pleased them. I’d even spoken about that subject at a school board meeting once when I was in tenth grade. But none of the White men sitting on the other side of that long table paid much attention to a dirt poor Indian from the rez.
While Will was getting his head stuffed full of ranching info and Spartan knowledge, I was having other parts of my body educated. And stuffed. Last night, around midnight, after a lazy swim in the Jante after a long day riding fence, Will and I had tumbled into the bottom bunk, damp from our swim and instead of reading he’d kissed me into delirium then taught me all about the pleasure of having someone suck your cock while stroking your prostate. Neither of us had packed condoms or lube so there was no dick in ass action, which he seemed to think was good.
“Let your ass get used to my fingers first,” he’d whispered after I’d blown apart with such ferocity my soul had left my frigging body.
“Love…your…fingers,” I had managed to reply.
“You’ll like my dick more,” he’d bragged then stroked himself off all over my belly.
I’d fallen asleep without moving, coming awake for a second as Will wiped off my stomach and chest with a dirty T-shirt he’d wet at the old sink. When I blinked into wakefulness, Will was snoring softly, facing the wall, my chest plastered to his back. Our sleeping bags were wrapped around us. I lay there for a few minutes studying the way that an early morning sunbeam was highlighting his hair. There were streaks of rust amid the chestnut. His skin was as white as oyster shells with tiny sun freckles dotting his shoulder. There were fourteen freckles. I placed my lips on each one. He stirred and moaned. His hips arched, pressing his ass into my hard cock.
“Don’t push too hard,” I warned then reached around him to take his dick in my hand. “I’ll end up on the floor.”
“Mm, don’t want that.” He bucked into my fist. I wanted more than a hand job. I desired to take him into my mouth as he had done for me.
“I want to suck you,” I whispered beside the sunburned shell of his ear. His inhalation rattled through him then he wiggled around to his back. I threw back the sleeping bag, baring his whipcord lean body to that brave beam struggling to push through the filthy window. He was so beautiful. So pale, hard, eager. His cock was thin with a nice curve. I wet my lips as a bead of precum appeared on the round head.
“You ever done this before?” He reached up to run his fingers along my jaw. He liked the beard. A lot. I might never shave again. I shook my head as my gaze moved down his shaft to his heavy sac. Unable to wait any longer, I moved downward. He captured my face to tip my sight back to his. “Eager fucking beaver.” I smiled as saliva pooled in my mouth. “Lips over teeth. I like it when a guy sucks the head hard but that’ll make me come really fast.”
“I want you to come fast. I want to taste your spunk.” His pupils grew fat. He released my chin and threw his arms over his head. Moving downward, it took just a second to cram my tongue into his cute little navel before falling on his cock like a man starved. His dick tasted like the rest of him only headier. I lapped and licked, glancing up to gauge if he was enjoying it. His chest rose and fell harder with each pass of my tongue over his smooth cockhead. When I took him into my mouth, he gasped, his ass leaving the worn mattress.
“Teeth,” he grunted as a reminder when I forgot. I bobbed up and down, sucking hard, cupping his balls, mad for him to fill my mouth with jizz. “Now…fuck…suck hard.”
I did and was rewarded with pulse after pulse of warm, thick cum. It was slightly bitter, salty, and wholly delicious. His cock kicked and spewed. I swallowed all of it, each last drop, and then licked his dick clean as he panted and moaned. I loved the sounds he made when he came.
“Quick study,” he huffed as I worked my way up his body, stopping to lave his dark pink nipples before licking into his mouth. He moved against me, his soft cock next to my still rigid one. “Let me help with this.” Working his hand between us, he gave me a few hard tugs. My lips moved over his as I came, his tongue sliding in and over mine. When the last tremor diminished, I moved to the side, my bare ass hanging over the edge of the bottom bunk. “Better?”
“Yeah, much.” I rubbed my jaw along his nose. He turned his head to steal a final taste. “Let me get something.”
I moved to my side and onto my back, easing with care from under the upper bunk to find the shirt we’d used last night on the floor. I tossed it over his face.
“Nice,” he muttered from under the dirty tee. “Smells like you.”
He lay there inhaling and exhaling with moronic wheezing sounds mixed in. Chuckling, I left him there to dig into my bag for a clean pair of underwear and socks. I’d have to wear what I wore yesterday on the return trip to the ranch. I pulled on my dirty jeans and an old Johnny Cash tee that I’d rinsed out in the river night before last. Will lazed around while I stoked the fire and got the old percolator filled with water and coffee. Once the pot was over the revived flames, I threw the front door open. The world had already woken up. I stepped out into the sun, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, most centered on Will Abbott. I hated the thought of leaving this cabin. We’d had a few precious days to learn about each other a little in a lot of ways, not only sexually. I didn’t want to leave, but we had to. Padding around the rear of the cabin, I eased open the door of the outhouse and stuck my head inside. The spider who lived here, and yes, it was a black widow, had managed to escape our efforts to eradicate it. Will had taken to calling her Natalie. She wasn’t in her usual corner, so I hurried in to piss then took my leave. The river called to me so I made my way to the waterway, enjoying the burble of water.
I smelled the coffee before Will arrived with two mugs. “This is nearly as good as mine.”
“Your coffee could be used to clean a carburetor.”
He softly laughed then slid an arm around my waist. “That’s legitimate.” We both sipped in silence for a few moments. “How are we working this when we get back?”
“This being us?” I asked into the steaming mug.
“Yeah.”
That was a question that had been on my mind quite a bit the past day or two. “I’m hoping that Shep kept his mouth shut. But he is a McCrary so knowing them he raced to the rez to find my grandfather and mother then filled them in on the juicy details.”
“They’re really assholes, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” I sighed, my gaze moving from my coffee to a pine siskin flittering down to take a drink along the edge of the lazy river. “If they know then they know. I won’t out you though.”
“Kyle knows I’m pan. My lizard tells the world.” I threw the tat on his corded neck a quick look. I’d licked that inkwork just last night. “I’m just worried about the whole sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll pact I made with him and Landon.”
“Yeah, I understand but do you really think they meant for you to be celibate?” The siskin bobbed around for a moment, picking along the soft silt, the yellow bars on his delicate wings were the same color as the T-shirt Will had pulled on. Dirty and wrinkled like mine it was. We’d look like bums when we arrived home.