Nowhere Ranch (4 page)
But he wanted more. “Would you like to feel my fist inside you?”
“Yes,” I agreed, because, yeah, I would.
He began to thrust more regularly, making me open and sloppy with lube. “Your ass would swallow my hand. You would feel it deep inside you.”
“I'd be so hot for your fist,” I promised him. “I'd grunt and moan and thank you for putting your whole hand inside me. I'd be your slut.”
He was fucking me pretty good now. “Yes. You're very slutty. A regular tramp. You'll let me fuck you any way I want to, won't you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I'm going to fuck you now. I'm going to put on a condom and fuck this ass. Right now.”
“Please, sir.” My words were rattled because his hand was all but punching at my ass. “Please fuck me with your cock, Mr. Loving.”
That had been almost an accident, but it was a good one, because I felt Loving's shudder. And then he was gone, but not for long. Soon he was gripping my hips and nudging my knees wide, and then he was in me.
It was one of the roughest fucks I've had. As I said, I'm tall, but he's big, and he's very strong. And his cock is fat. I hadn't even seen it then, but I felt it inside me. I wanted to tell him that, to tell him how it stretched me, but my teeth were banging together, and I gripped onto the bedspread just to keep from getting shoved across the bed.
And he wasn't kidding about the slapping. I felt like his horse, because he kept slapping my side, like he was trying to get me to go faster. I had been holding still until that, but I started bucking back against him as he slapped at me until I huffed and grunted.
“That's it,” he rasped. “Hump me. Are you a dog? Are you a dog in heat? You my dog?” He slapped me again. “Speak, puppy.”
My bark was more of a bleat, but it did its job: it made me feel dirty and fucked-up, and it made him feel like he was really mastering me—which, honestly, he was right then. I growled and purred and grunted and barked for him every time he slapped me, until all of a sudden he thrust so hard I almost bit my tongue, and he shuddered and came inside me. I wished he could have been coming inside me for real, no condom, that I would have been leaking when he pulled out.
For a few minutes he lay across my back, breathing hard, and I enjoyed it, still hard, still aching, but waiting for him. Everything from the ranch and work and life in general had gone away, and I was just Loving's fuck dog, waiting to be told what to do next.
What was next was that he laid me back on the pillow, and as he stared into my eyes, he jerked me off. He had me pull my legs back so that my knees were on my chest and my ass was open, but he just tugged on my cock and stared down at me, brown eyes burning as he pumped me harder and harder.
Then, without warning, he said, “Come.”
To my surprise, I did, and holy shit, it was huge and thick and all over his hand and my stomach, and some of it was even on my chin. Still watching me, he fed it all to me, and I licked it off his fingers. When the last of it was gone, he traced my lips for a second with his thumb.
Then he bent and kissed me.
His tongue stole right inside, and we swapped my semen back and forth a few times. He went after my nipples again, which were oversensitive already, but he just rolled and rolled them. He bent and sucked hard on the skin above one, leaving a hard red mark. He left another on my stomach, then turned me over and sucked on each ass check. He put me on my back, opened my legs, and sucked on the inside of each thigh. He pushed a finger back inside me, even though I was pretty raw, and I took him in, holding my legs open so we could both watch it go in and out.
But eventually he pulled out, and he spooned up behind me.
“I'd like to fuck you tomorrow,” he said.
I nodded.
Even though it was something I never did, with Loving I stayed the night, sleeping beside my boss the closet kinkfest, full of his pinch marks and bruises and hickeys, waiting to get fucked again.
We opened in the morning with a blowjob.
I was barely conscious and my head was getting pushed down to his crotch, but that was fine. What was also fine was the way he swung my body around and pulled me on top of him, tucking my knees under his arms. While I sucked him off and massaged his balls, he poked at my ass again, though sometimes he licked it too. Very quickly he figured out how much I liked that, and pretty soon I squatted over him, holding on to the headboard and rattling it as he pushed his tongue up inside me.
There was a mirror on the closet door, and he fucked me in front of it. I sat backward on his cock and pushed myself up and down while we both watched. He also took me to the open window and fucked me at it—nobody could see, but it felt dirty, so it got us both hot. When he finally came, it was with me on my back and my legs open in a nasty V, and this time, actually, I came first.
We took a break for a while after that and ate lunch on our own.
I knew he was afraid to let me out of his sight, but I told him he could take me to dinner. I just needed some time to myself. Mostly I napped, but I showered too. I washed my ass out even more than usual, because I could tell it would be an ass-centric evening, the way his mind went.
Dinner was actually nice. He took me to a steak place, and for a few hours it was just two guys out to dinner. We talked about the ranch. We talked a fuck lot about sheep, which isn't exactly sexy, but they were getting the better of him, and well, it wasn't like we were going to talk about him fisting me while we were in a restaurant.
But once we got back to the hotel... Holy. Shit.
He had me out of my clothes and on the bed in less than a minute, I swear, but he didn't touch me, not right away. He just arranged me on all these pillows, propping me up, then knelt in front of me at the foot of the bed and put my legs over his shoulders. It felt weird, like I was giving birth, but that was dirty, and it turned me on. But then he got the lube and went for my ass, and oh, man. Dirty. Dirty, dirty, dirty.
He played at my ass for an hour, I swear. One finger. Two. Three. One from each hand. His thumb. And he had me watch it all, had me clench on them. It was like some sort of sick exam. It was really twisted. I loved it.
After an hour, he went back to just one hand and worked four fingers in me.
It was tight. It was hard to take, and I hissed and panted a lot. I don't know why three can be so fine and then four is like a fucking missile, but it is. He held his fingers cone-shaped, but there's only so much you can do with knuckles, and he has really big hands. I just wasn't ready for them.
He backed off a little, but not much. “Take as much as you can. Tell me ‘no’ when you have to, but keep taking it.”
So I did. But I watched too, and it was hot. I was stretched so wide. He had me facing the mirrors, and sometimes he'd lean to the side so I could see how obscene it was. I mean, I was not far from swallowing that hand. But I just couldn't. So I just kept taking as much as I could, watching his fingers disappear inside me, feeling the knuckles scrape at me until I couldn't take it. He pulled out.
But he wasn't done. Telling me to stay where I was, he went to his suitcase and came back with the longest fucking dildo I have ever seen. It was plenty fat too.
“I went out and bought it this afternoon.” He greased it liberally, keeping it in front of my face. “I want to stick it in you as far as it can go. I want you to watch it go in. And then I want you to just sit there and look at it in you for a while, and then I'm going to fuck you with it.”
And damn if that wasn't what he did. We both watched as he pushed it against me, as my body swallowed it. But it was work. It was as wide as four fingers but didn't have any knuckles. And it felt fucking odd inside me. It went deep into places no cock has ever been. My face was red, and I was breathing hard and then grunting—I mean, I was grunting like I was going to shit. But he kept saying, “Good boy,” and pushing it deeper, and I took it, took it until it was too much, and then I shook my head.
He stopped, stood, and walked away. He fucking left the room. Took his key card and went out into the hall.
I sat there for at least ten minutes, looking at the monster dildo coming out of my ass while I held my legs open. I clenched at it, but I didn't touch it. I held it in, and I marveled at it. I had about four inches yet to go before the base, but I felt so stuffed. I felt weird. I felt horny too, and I rocked a little, letting it move inside me. I wanted to touch it, wanted to start it fucking me, but I waited because this was his game. And it was a hot game.
When he came back, though, I was humping it hard, taking another inch or so inside me even though I felt like it was at my damn throat.
He knelt in front of me and held the base gently. “What do you say?”
I could barely talk. My speech was so guttural I don't know how he understood me, but to the best of my ability I said, “Thank you, sir, for sticking this big cock inside me.”
He turned it gently. “Do you feel it deep?” I nodded vigorously. “Is it stretching you?” More nods. “Are you full?” Nod, nod, nod.
“Would you like me to fuck you with it?”
I groaned and started fucking myself on it.
He got rid of the pillows and laid me back, lying beside me fully clothed as he plowed a huge, fat dildo in and out of me. I don't even remember coming. All I know is that I nearly blacked out, and when I got my senses back, I had cum on my stomach and my body was humming. He rolled me over, spread me, and I just lay there, sated, as he used me. It was so good. So, so good.
He fingered me a few times in the middle of the night. He had ignored my nipples all night long, but he was back at them in the morning, and then we didn't fuck, just rubbed against each other until we came. We ate lunch in the room, and then we did an almost boring fuck, though it was still good, just me on my knees with him jacking me as he humped me.
And then it was done. We checked out, went and got my car, and we drove home.
“I'm going to leave it up to you,” he said as we stood outside my car back at the ranch. “I won't lie to you. I would like to do this again, but I understand your reservations. So just know that I'm open to it anytime. You knock on my door, let me know, and we'll pick this back up. Or not. Up to you. I won't look at you differently at the ranch.” He rubbed the side of his neck and looked rueful as he added, “Though I will surely be jacking off to the memory of this.”
That made me smile. And I appreciated it, I really did. But I was determined that this would be all we did. I wasn't going to complicate my job. I didn't want to have to move again just yet, and I couldn't see how this was going to end any other way but bad if we kept on. It was going to be hard enough to work and sleep so close to him and know all I had to do was cross the driveway and there it would be, the hottest sex known to man.
But I kept my resolve, and he kept his. We went back to the way we had been for the weeks between when I'd come to Nowhere and when we'd met in Rapid City. I think I saw him a total of seven times outside of watching him ride out into the sunset, though I didn't even do that as much anymore. I worked hard. I mean, I worked fucking hard. Tory was starting to really rely on me about the sheep, and though I shared my dad's feelings about the animals, it was clear from the manager that Loving was set on keeping them. It was never my policy to make friends with the other hands, but I was doing all right with this crew overall, better than my usual. And Tory respected me. And I liked the nearby town, where I went for banking and laundry and such.
Really, outside of a weekend's transgression with the boss and a shitty kitchen, this was an ideal setup for me.
As for Loving, he was true to his word. He didn't treat me different at all. Didn't even start hanging around the barn extra or anything. He made no move to woo me, and I kept my distance. There was one tense moment where we were alone in his office talking about the sheep, but you would never have known a thing from watching us. And after that, I pretty much relaxed about the issue altogether.
Yeah, I missed it. Yeah, I wanted it. Yeah, I beat off like you would not believe to the memory of what he had done to me in Rapid City. But I was determined to be strong. I was not going to be the boss's fuck toy. I wasn't.
And for four months, I did real well. But then I got the first letter, and fuck if I wasn't eight kinds of mess after that.
Chapter Three
My cousin's name is Kayla, and she's two years younger than me. When I was having all the trouble with school, she tried to help me with my schoolwork, but she quickly became part of the problem. She meant well, but she always managed to make me feel like shit. She kept telling me I needed to work harder. Kept telling me all this stuff about how it was upsetting my mom and my dad, how poorly I was doing in school. Half our “study sessions” were her lecturing me. I was never so glad as when she gave up, and they just let me drop out like I wanted.
When I moved out because of the porn, she came to visit me a few times. She had gotten really into church, and she was all about praying over me. I let her do it the first time because it felt wrong not to let someone pray for you, but I didn't after that because I don't think that was real praying. She said “Dear God” and all that, but it was all about how nasty I was. When she came back the next few times, after I told her no praying, she stood there at the screen door to my trailer and argued with me, telling me how I upset my family and how shameful my carrying on was. This was the same song and dance as Pastor, but Kayla had a way of making the barbs go deep in a way he couldn't manage. Usually after she left, I had to get really drunk or very high.
The thing is, she really thought she was helping me. If she were a mean bitch, I could've ignored her. If she'd laughed and called me names, I could've said “fuck you” and forgotten her. But it messed me up something awful to have someone look at me with what looked a lot like love and tell me how wrong I am, then heap on guilt about how I'm hurting everybody to boot over something I can't change. It makes me feel like there's a Monroe Davis who is good somewhere, and I am the demon in his way. Like I have to die so he can live.