Montana Ch. 02

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(There is no underage sex in this, or any of my stories.)

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Chapter 6

Again for a second, neither of us moved.

Then slowly he began to stroke, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I took in the reality of him, the manly clean smell, the prickly alive feel of his skin, the hot energy pulsing through him. There was a great magic being close to him, feeling his soul, all of it overwhelming, and so, so much better than all of my fantasies combined.

“Noah,” he mumbled and lifted his butt to push his jeans down a little further so they were around his thighs. He tightened his grip around my hand, and I groaned.

“Fuck, that feels good, don’t stop,” he whispered.

“As if I could,” I whispered into his neck, and he laughed.

He started stroking faster. I felt it all the way down in my TOES! I threw one leg over the bottom of his. I grit down on my teeth, hoping I wouldn’t come in my pants just from the energy wafting off him.

“That’s it,” he whispered.

I had to fight my urge to pump and grind my hips into his side. I was riding his pleasure. It was the biggest high of my life, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself, or miss a second of it. I felt like my heart was expanding so fast, I could barely keep up.

Kevin was making these soft, quiet grunting noises, and I knew he must be close.

“NOAH!” he whispered and came all over our hands and his stomach and chest.

“Oh fuck, God. Shit,” I said. I snapped back to reality, suddenly confused and embarrassed. I had actually done that with Kevin. For real. I just had my first sexual experience with someone else!

I wanted to lick my hand, but I was way too embarrassed. I leaned over Kevin to get some tissues and tried to clean my hand, and to clean him up, but I was making a sticky paper mache mess, making it worse, not better.

“Fuck, shit, God dawg dang it,” I said.

He laughed. Oh, my God.

“Kev???! Are you okay?”

He had his head lolled back on the pillow. He turned and looked at me. Slowly he grinned. “Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, his voice full of sarcasm.

I relaxed a little.

“I’ll get you a washcloth.”

I jumped up and quietly tiptoed to the bathroom. I touched my tongue to my hand quickly before I washed my hands, but I was too overwhelmed to notice much of a taste. I wanted to hurry back. I got a washcloth. I wasn’t sure if wet or dry would be better so I just wet one corner and wrung it out really good and brought it back to him. I handed it to him without saying anything. I watched him wash up.

“It’s your birthday, but it looks like I got a present,” he said quietly.

“Ah, I gotta go!” I said. I ran out of there.

My breath was still galloping away from me when I dove under my covers and put my hands behind my head. I stared at the ceiling for a while, my hard-on throbbing and thoughts zooming around my head like pinballs.

I forced myself to close my eyes and think. At first I felt bad, like maybe I manipulated him into letting me touch him, but his last words stayed with me. That didn’t sound like a guy who regretted getting touched.

I knew Kevin had had a girlfriend back home. What was her name? Mary. He had talked about how they’d started dating when they were very young. I remembered when he first came he said that they weren’t going to try to be exclusive long distance, but I couldn’t remember if they’d exactly broken up either. How many times had he gone home since he’d been with us—four?

I gnawed on piece of loose skin on my lip while I thought about it. Insecurities tried to pry their way into my brain and so did labels. He seemed to really like what I did to him. Was it because he was a liberal from New York? Was he gay but didn’t know it? Did this make him bi? I remembered a video I saw in sixth grade health-ed of two boys together on a slide. The part of the video was about how it was normal for kids of the same sex to experiment. Is that what this was to him? An experiment?

I had to quiet my brain. I was driving myself crazy. Also, I felt like I wasn’t asking myself the right questions. Maybe what I should be asking myself was did I regret going to Kevin’s room? The answer was no.

I got up and went to the barn to visit Eagle-eye. I leaned against her. “Nothing is this complicated for you, is it, girl?”

The next morning I did not want to get out of bed. I hit the alarm three times, and it was after six AM before Clay came pounding on my door.

“Noah? Are you sick? The cows aren’t gonna milk themselves, you know.”

“I’m coming,” I said.

I dragged my ass out of bed. The truth was I was afraid to face Kevin, and I was kind of hoping he’d be out in the fields already. No such luck. He was at the stove Ankara bayan escort dishing up chocolate chip blueberry pancakes.

“Lazy ass,” Kevin said when he saw me and smiled. And just like that I knew we were okay.

I adjusted my glasses, pushing them higher up the bridge of my nose, smiled a shy, half smile at both Kevin and my brother, and sat down.

“Noah, you look like crap,” Clayton said.

“Clay, don’t feed him any more beer,” Kevin said. He put a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me. “If this is what he’s like after drinking, take away his leftover birthday cake too, ’cause our boy looks hung-over.”

I reached to the middle of the table to grab some orange juice, and I had to duck my head to hide my smile when Kevin said ‘our boy’.

“Lay off, jackass,” I mumbled. “Or I’ll make you do my share of the work.”

“You always do,” he said good-naturedly.

“Knock it off, dumb and dumber,” Clay said. “Noah, I was searching the internet yesterday, and I found a big place in California that does horse rides for kids. Call them later today, and see if they’ve got some suggestions for you. I emailed the ladies there, and they seem really nice, and knowledgeable.”

“Great,” I said.

“Kevin, I ordered oats, but I want you to figure out what kind of cherries we want to plant. I did some preliminary research, and there’s a lot of different kinds. Who knew there were that many types of cherries? Find out what you want, and I’ll talk to Jenny Mae about ordering some.”

“You got it, boss,” Kevin said.

“You sure you’re all right?” Clay asked me.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t fuss.” Clay came over and rubbed his knuckles into a noogie onto the top of my head, grabbed his cowboy hat, and left.

“I’ll mend that part of the fence on the western side while you’re milking the cows,” Kevin said.

“All right.” I watched Kevin grab his hat and go out the back door. I looked down at my plate. I’d eaten everything on it without really realizing it.

“It’s no big deal. Everything’s okay. It’s fine. Everyone’s fine,” I said to myself.

Kevin popped his head back in the door. “What’s that?”

“Yargh!” I said. “Nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

He smiled, winked at me, and then he was gone.

“Asshole,” I muttered.

I grabbed my hat and went to check on the cows.


I managed to pay attention to my work during the day. But nighttime was a different story. For the next three nights Kevin was on my mind constantly. Triple X rated fantasies played through my mind. Concerns that maybe I pushed him when I shouldn’t have plagued me.

I had been selfish going to his room like that, I knew it. Completely selfish.

I wondered if maybe I should talk to him about it, but I was too shy to broach the subject. Maybe I should just ignore it, pretend it never happened.

I visited the horses in the middle of the night each night. Eagle-eye got so much brushing her coat didn’t just gleam, it shone as if she was lit from within. On the third night I think I actually dozed standing up, with my head against her shoulder.

On the fourth night, at about 11:30, I tiptoed down the hall and knocked on Kevin’s door.

He whispered, “Come in.” It sounded like he was awake.

“Hey.” I whispered my hello.

He lifted one edge of the sheet covering him.

Holy shit, he wants me to lay down next to him? I closed my eyes and balled my fists, begging for control and sending a fervent prayer up to God. The prayer mostly sounded like, ‘thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.’

“Dude. Ya just gonna stand there?”

I silently slipped into bed next to him.

“It’s been so long I was thinking maybe you didn’t like it last time,” Kevin said with a quirk in his voice. I looked at him to see if he was joking. He was. “It’s been so many nights I thought maybe you were going to wait until your next birthday before you came back to me.”

“You could have knocked on my door too,” I said.

“Oh, hell no,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. “You want it, you gotta come and get it.”

“I want it,” I said in a husky whisper.

“Yeah?” he asked in a voice just as deep. He took my hand and put it on his bare hip. My temperature spiked about a hundred degrees, and my toes tingled at the first touch of his smooth skin. “Then come get it.”

I tucked my head into his neck. I slid my hand around toward his front, hesitantly dipping the tips of my fingers into his pubic hair and then pulling away.

“Come on, Noah,” he whispered to the top of my head. “Do it.”

I wrapped my hand around his cock and gave him one slow stroke before he said, “Wait.” I had a moment of panic when he took my hand away. Then he brought it to his mouth. His tongue darted out and touched the middle of my palm. I arched into him, and he chuckled, a low, deep, warm sound. He licked my hand, leaving it moist and hot.

“Now, let’s try again,” Kevin said. “Do you want to feel my cock?”

“Yeah,” I whispered and he Escort bayan Ankara put my hand back on his dick.

“Because I want you to, too,” he said.

My eyes rolled back in my head. I took a risk and planted a small kiss on his neck. I stroked him, up and down, up and down, trying to keep the pace steady and not let it run away from me.

“Faster, Noah, please, more, just….”

I sped up the pace, and I felt all his muscles tighten. Then he amazed me by putting a hand over the hard bulge in my pajama bottoms, and just from that one, light touch, I came.

And then he did.

The contented, warm, masculine sound of his laughter on top of my head warmed my heart.

“You can help me out anytime if it ends like that,” Kevin said.

My face burned.

“I’ll get a washcloth,” I said.

I still didn’t know if he liked it better wet or dry, because I hadn’t asked him and he didn’t say anything last time. So I did the same thing as before, wetting one corner and wringing it out. I brought it to him and handed it to him in silence.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

I was still sticky inside my pajama pants, but I stayed a second to watch him clean himself. His hair was tussled, and his cheeks flushed, and his bottom lip red and plumped out where he must have bit it. Slices of moonlight illuminated his chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered to myself. Oh my God, I said that out loud! “I gotta go!” I said. I quietly ran out of the room and shut the door.

Chapter 7

I was sure I would feel humiliated the next day at breakfast, but Kevin acted like everything was normal. We had to muck stalls, and check on the chickens, and do a hundred things that always had to be done, and he didn’t seem any different. The fact my whole world had sort of shifted somehow was weird, but the fact that by day he was still the same was nice.

He made lasagna for dinner that night. One of my favorite meals.

I checked the website Clay had told me about. Those women in California looked like they had a sweet setup. I called them, and I talked to a really nice lady for about an hour. I hadn’t thought about running a summer camp for therapeutic purposes, but I could see where that would have its advantages. We had gorgeous summer weather. We could get grants. We could really do some good. My first thought had been to open a school for local folks, but the more I talked to this woman, the more unlikely that seemed. People around here had their own horses and taught their own kids. She gave me a lot to think about.

I managed to last through one night without getting up and visiting him, but it was long and tortuous. I spent so much time tossing and turning and fighting myself I’m surprised I didn’t wear a hole in the mattress. I knew if I were honest with myself, I wouldn’t be able to resist trying again.

The next night at 11:30 I knocked on Kevin’s door again.

“Can I come in?”

“Hell, yeah.”

I closed the door behind me. Now it was my turn to give a warm laugh. All my insecurity of the last few days left me. He lifted the side of the sheet, and I slid into bed next to him.

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” I whispered.

“Me too,” he said.

I tucked my face into Kevin’s neck. I didn’t reach right for his hip this time. I stroked a wide circle on his chest. He murmured a sound I took for assent. For a second I thought he might stop me, say that it was too much, not within our tentative agreement of helping each other out. I tweaked his nipple. As he arched up into me, I smiled into his neck.

“So good,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. Then I let my hand slide down further.

I wrapped my hand around his cock. His hips bucked up a little bit into my hand, which made me smile all over.

This was what I wanted, God, this was all I ever wanted.

I could feel the tension in him winding up tighter and tighter. He opened his mouth, panting hard. I stroked faster and slower, squeezed my hand tighter and let it loosen a little. I slid my hand right over the top, and then back to the base. I felt it all in my own cock as well, which felt hard enough to use as a hammer.

The energy arched between us, and I heard the thundering tha-thump of his heartbeat.

“Aauuuugh. Fuck!” he said. And he came in a glorious, riotous explosion.

I let all the tension roll out of me. “I feel like I’m using you,” I whispered.

He laughed. “Yeah. Hardship.”

I went to him every night after that, at 11:30 on the dot, and did pretty much the exact same thing. He laid on his back, and I laid next to him on my side. I tucked my head into his neck or close to it, or maybe near his armpit or shoulder. In a way we were barely touching. I buried the side of my face into his space, but I usually kept our torsos carefully apart. I cautiously touched his hip and his pubic hair. He was always hard when I reached for him. And I always smiled my secret smile, so big I thought my face would break. I loved the feeling of his hardness, Bayan escort Ankara the velvet over steel, and his smell, and the energy wafting over him. I couldn’t wait to stroke him, have him come in my hand.

I was addicted. And every time I came to him, every time I made him come, I became more attached, more and more wanting, more and more a man with his heart expanded.

Every night I was dying to touch him. I already felt like I was taking advantage of him. Even if that didn’t make much sense, having his cock in my hand gave me such a rush, such a feeling of electrifying goodness, that nothing else mattered.

One night, after he exploded onto his stomach, and I, as usual, into my pajama pants just from feeling him get off, I actually said something before I jumped up to get a washcloth.

“Kev? Am I using you too much? Pushing you too much?” I had my head tucked into his neck, and for a second I was afraid to look up.

“Noah,” he said. “No, you’re a horny teenager. I’m here. I get it. It’s no big deal.”

I jumped up and got the corner-only-wet washcloth. He was right. We were buddies. I just needed not to make too much out of it. I got myself together.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” I handed him the washcloth.

He nodded. “I’m okay.” I watched him wash up. “Are you okay?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I’m better than okay. I’m perfect.”


We had decided to buy cherry trees that had already had a few years of maturity to them. As summer started, we tended them, watching their beautiful start. The true magic of God, crisp air, and perfect Montana sun.

I watched the tight, small, pink buds of the cherries start. One night, I let my head be just a tiny bit further down, and flicked my tongue out over the pink tip of Kevin’s nipple. I didn’t know if they’d be sensitive, and I fully expected him to stop me. My own nipples tingled in response. When he didn’t stop me, I did it again and again, finally suckling hard like a newborn calf. When he moaned softly at the combination of my lips and my hand, I came hard in my pajama pants, harder than I ever had. My sigh could probably be heard in three counties.

The next night, when I touched him Kevin, he wrapped his arm around my body, and his palm pressed tight against my lower back. His hand firmly pulled me, kept pushing me closer to him, so I was completely pressed up against his side. That hand warmed me inside and out, in my mind it made it seem less like we were two friends passing in the night and more like lovers.

I shouldn’t let myself fall in love. Kevin had made no promises. But if I were honest, it was way too late for me to rein in my emotions and pull back. But I didn’t examine it too closely; I didn’t want to be brave enough to be that honest.

As summer got hotter our cherries came into beautiful full bloom, ripe and luscious, a dark, dark, ruby-burgundy red. We spent every spare minute cherrying—it was cherry, cherry, cherry at our farm. Picking cherries, selling cherries, freezing cherries, canning cherries, and making cherry jam, and cherry pies, and even cherry juice, and of course, eating cherries. Hell, some mornings we even had cherry pancakes. Clay drew the line at the idea of cherry omelets.

It got to the point where I felt like we bled cherries. Our fingers were stained red. And every night, when I went to Kevin’s bedroom, and his bed, his clean, masculine scent smelled of cherries. And despite my cherry overload, I wanted to eat him up.

It was the last day of July a beautiful day, and a beautiful night, when I lay my head on Kevin’s stomach, instead of his chest. I blew on his pubic hair and his beautiful, big erection as I stroked him. It was so wonderful being this close to him, getting to watch the action up close, extremely close. Blowing my cherry breath over that smooth skin and knowing he felt me in a more intimate way than ever. I moved my head away at the last minute, when his body bowed up, afraid that he would freak, and take away the chance for me to do that wonderful close-up breath gift and show again.

It was the next night, after a few minutes of me having my head on his stomach, slowly stroking his cock, and lazily watching him, when I felt his hand very gently on the back of my head.

“Do it, No. Blow me.”

I snapped my head up and looked at him. I couldn’t believe it. Our eyes met. I could see his eyes glowing in the moonlight.

“I’m dying here. I need to be. In. Your. Mouth.”

I blinked. Over and over again. Never in a million years would I imagine he would say that. My brain couldn’t catch up. I couldn’t believe it.

“I know you want to,” he whispered. “Do it. Suck my cock.”

Holy shit.

He stroked himself.

“Suck me.”

Oh my God.

I had no idea how.

I licked my lips. Then I bent over him, and I tentatively licked the tip.

“Come on, Noah, put your hot mouth around me.”

Fuck. Was he talking dirty to turn me on more?

“I’m begging you.”

I thought of the calves, and how they suckled a teat. They stuck their tongue way out, and put it as far down on the underside of the of the teat as they could, pulled their mouths opened wide and went way up toward the base, and then sucked for all they were worth. So that’s what I did.

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