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Clint

By: Ashson



"Mabel, I want you to go down to the town today and pick up some supplies. We're low on a few things and the walk will do you some good."

Mabel turned to consider her father. How to address the issue without him getting upset?

"Ah, Pa, I'm of age now and you know what some of those town-folk are like."

Not to mention some of the scum that lived in the mountains around them. There were a lot of nice people but a couple of families -- yuck.

Mabel's father gave her a hard stare but silently admitted she had a point. He didn't want Mabel getting jumped by some horny type with no morals and not enough sense to be scared of what would follow.

"You have a point," Mabel's father acknowledged. "Cedric will go with you. You can use him to help carry things and he'll keep the idiots away."

"Will Cedric go with me?" queried Mabel. "He's been acting funny lately, sticking close to home.

"He'll do as he's bloody told," snarled her father, and so it proved.

Mabel quite enjoyed the long hike to the township. Even though it took several hours, an early start got them there by mid-morning. And what, wondered Mabel, is Cedric so jumpy about? If anything could spoil this trip it was the way Cedric was behaving.

Mabel was quite surprised to find Cedric sticking to her like glue the entire time she was in town. Normally when Cedric was in town he hit the first bar he came to and stayed there until it was time to leave, his general presence acting as a deterrent if she needed one. This time she could barely turn around without tripping over him. 

Shopping completed, and arrangements made for delivery of the bulk of their goods, Mabel indicated to Cedric that it was time to go. They were just passing the outskirts of the town when Cedric glanced back at the town, said something very rude under his breath, and started hustling her along.

They hadn't gone far when Cedric announced that they'd take the back way home. Mabel stared in surprise. Cedric wanted to take the long way home?

"Cedric, the back way is almost twice as far. Why on earth do you want to go that way? You always take the shortest way."

"It might be longer but it's twice as fucking safe," snapped Cedric, hurrying her down the path.

"Give, Cedric. I've never had any real trouble on the direct route and who along there would bother you, anyway?"

"OK. Clint's kind of sore at me. I'd just as soon avoid him if he comes looking for a fight."

Mabel didn't blame him. Clint was lethal. No-one in their right mind picked a fight with Clint. 

"What did you do, Cedric?" demanded Mabel. 

"That's right. Blame me," snapped Cedric. "You don't suppose that Clint might be the one at fault, do you? It has to be my fault, doesn't it?"

"What did you do, Cedric?" repeated Mabel. 

"It was an accident," blustered Cedric. "I read the signals wrong. Marie says I insulted her and Clint wants to discuss the matter with me. You know how unreasonable he is where Marie is concerned."

"You made a pass at Clint's sister?" shrieked Mabel. "Are you insane?"

"It wasn't a pass, exactly," protested Cedric. "I thought she was giving me a come-on. Turns out she wasn't."

"Tell me you didn't rape her, Cedric. If you did, I'm talking to a dead man."

"No. Of course I didn't," Cedric defended himself. "I barely laid a finger on her. She just got a little upset over nothing. I just feel it's better to take a few precautions. Someone spotted me leaving town and Clint will probably be waiting up the trail for me. So we go the back way."

Mabel sighed but went along with Cedric. She supposed that he was telling the truth about not raping Marie or Clint would have stormed the house to get at him. If Clint was taking his time then Cedric probably just grabbed something that he shouldn't have grabbed and seriously embarrassed Marie.

They were only about a mile from home and Cedric was a lot more relaxed when it happened. They'd just turned a corner when a gentle voice spoke.

"Could I have a word with you, Cedric?"

Clint was leaning against a tree, thoughtfully cleaning his nails with a knife. A very large knife, in Mabel's opinion.

"I'm disappointed in you, Cedric," said Clint. "I passed word that I'd like you to drop past and explain things but you've been sadly remiss. Neither sight nor sign of you for a couple of weeks now. Why would that be?" 

"I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding, Clint," Mabel hastily put in. "Cedric explained to me that he just made a mistake and he really regrets it."

"Mabel? My, you have grown up nicely. It's no wonder your daddy is running his little auction. Tell me, Mabel. You know Cedric. Would you really believe anything he tells you?"

Put like that, Mabel had to admit that Clint had a point. Just what had Cedric done, she wondered? Now that she thought about it, he hadn't actually said. She cast him a doubtful look.

Mabel's mind nudged her. Auction?

"Auction?" she asked. "What auction are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" returned Clint. "Cedric does. Ask him."

"Cedric?" demanded Mabel, noting the look on his face.

"Hey, it's nothing to do with me," Cedric protested. "Talk to Pa. I'm sure he'll cut you in on the money."

"What auction, Cedric?" Mabel demanded through gritted teeth.

"It's Pa's idea. You're of age now. He reckons you're real pretty and a guaranteed virgin so he's passed the word that for the right price. . ." 

"He's auctioning off my virginity?" shrieked Mabel.

"I assume you didn't know," said an amused voice. "However, talking about virgins, let's discuss Marie, shall we?"

"She still is," yipped Cedric. "I swear I didn't take her. I just leaned on her a little. Look, Mabel's here. Look at her."

To Mabel's horrified surprise, Cedric dropped the packages he was carrying, bent and grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it up and off, leaving her standing there in a pair of panties. 

"Look at her," panted Cedric. "You can have her. I won't tell Pa and I'm sure she won't say anything. And it won't cost you a cent."

"Very nice," drawled Clint, eyeing a horrified Mabel who was frantically trying to cover her breasts. "But I believe you also tore Marie's panties. I remember she was very vocal on that point."

Next thing Mable knew, Cedric had literally torn her panties off, leaving her naked. She froze, not knowing what to do. 

"Very nice," repeated Clint. "Your gift is accepted. I'll take her."

With that, Clint lashed out, smashing Cedric between the eyes. Cedric went down as though poleaxed.

"You're lucky you didn't actually hurt Marie," murmured Clint, "or they'd be burying you."

Clint moved over to Cedric and crouched down next to him, knife flashing in the sun.

"Oh, god, what are you doing," shrilled Mabel. "You can't kill him."

Clint laughed, the knife moving rapidly back and forth.

"Not killing. Not even cutting. Just giving him a warning."

A few moments later Clint arose and stepped back. Mabel stared down at the brother. Besides what looked like turning into two very black eyes, Cedric was now sporting a new hair style. Half his head was completely hairless, hair, beard and eyebrows, all carefully shaved off.

Clint laughed at Mabel. 

"I think he'll get the message," he said. "Now come along."

Mabel looked around for her dress. Her panties were useless, but at least she could put her dress back on. She was too slow, she saw, as Clint had already picked up her dress.

"I'll take that, thank you," she said. "You can be on your way."

"It's no problem," Clint told her. "I can carry it. And my way is also your way. Cedric gave you to me, remember? Now, come along." 

"What do you mean he gave me to you? You can't give people away."

"Well, if your Pa is trying to sell you, it seems only reasonable that your brother can give you away as a present. He did, I accepted and I now own you. That way. Let's go."

Mabel found herself being chivvied through the trees along an obscure path. She hadn't even known this old path existed and she thought she knew the area quite well.

"If I've got to go with you," she asked, "can I at least have my dress? It's embarrassing walking along like this."

"No," replied Clint. "Walking along naked will be a reminder of what is going to happen when I get you home. You'll find it will help to put you in the correct frame of mind."

Mabel walked in front of Clint, almost feeling his eye running over her figure. She was, she found, rolling her hip and swishing her bottom in a way that she would never normally do. What on earth did she think she was doing?

Mabel tried to sort through conflicting emotions. What would happen if she made a run for it? Would Clint chase her or just let her go. The idea that he would chase her and catch her was stomach churning. What if he caught her and decided not to wait? 

The other option, Mabel found even worse. What if he didn't chase her, but just let her go. That would be even more humiliating. And where would she go? Home to a father and brother that were preparing to sell her? Back to town? Naked? She'd never make it there a virgin, of that she was certain.

Suddenly Mabel brightened and swung along with fresh confidence. Marie would be at her brother's house and Marie was her friend. She wouldn't let Clint just drag her off to a bedroom for some bed fun. Marie would get her some clothes and then Mabel could stop and sort out what she wanted to do.

God, she felt hot, Mabel mused. It hadn't seemed such a hot day, but now. . . And she felt acutely conscious of her body. Clint was watching her, she just knew it. What was he thinking?

Mabel was relieved when Clint's new house came into sight. Finally she'd be able to get dressed and have someone to talk to. She liked Clint's new house. He'd obviously put some thought and effort into it. It was a proper house. Not a ramshackle cabin like most other places in the area. Mabel hurried in, calling out to Marie.

"If you want to attract Marie's attention you'll have to yell a little louder," drawled Clint. "She's visiting our parents for a week or so."

Clint caught the look of chagrin that flashed across Mabel's face and laughed.

"Did you think she'd be here to act as a protector?" he asked. "That explains your sudden rush to get here. And here was I, thinking that you couldn't wait to be alone with me."

"Well, you can think again," grumbled Mabel. "I'm just going to borrow some of Marie's things and then I'm out of here. And don't go getting any funny ideas. I know you. You're too much the white knight to rape me. You may try to scare me, but that's as far as you'll go."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to rethink your plans, Mabel," Clint told her. "Where do you think you're going to go? Home to the auction or to town, unprotected and fair game for anyone who knows about the auction?

Besides, you're forgetting one little detail and are too much the innocent to have really noticed a second detail."

"Oh, really?" said Mabel, ice in her voice. "Then why don't you enlighten me?"

"Gladly. Point one is you are mine to do with as I want. Cedric gave you to me, remember. Point two is that you've already decided to sleep with me. Or at least, your body has."

"You don't damn well own me and what gives you the idea that I want to sleep with you?" yelled Mabel, furious to feel a fire burning deep inside.

"I do damn well own you and I'm keeping you," retorted Clint. "And if you look at yourself you'll see that your nipples are doing everything but waving a flag to attract my attention. You're flushed and hot, and don't tell me it's the weather. And you're already wet for me. It's rather noticeable."

Mabel abruptly became aware of liquid easing down her between her legs. She blushed scarlet. She'd hit him if she thought she could connect. She still had her ace though. Clint was far too much the respected citizen to rape her, and they both knew it. Her confidence did take a bit of a hit when she saw that Clint was undressing, but she stood there, defying him.

Desperately not looking down, Mabel glared at Clint. 

"You're bluffing," she stated. "You're not going to rape me and we both know it."

"Then you should feel quite safe with my kissing you. After all, if I go too far all you have to do is say enough and I'll behave. Right?"

No. That's all wrong. Mabel knew it but what could she say? If she said no kissing he just might. . . He was a man and she was damn sure she shouldn't be trusting a man who was standing there naked.

"Remember, just say no," said a teasing voice and Mabel found Clint was kissing her.

A kiss. Mabel could handle a kiss. All she had to do was stand firm if he tried to do something more. She could ignore that thing pressing against her tummy. She could.

A kiss that grew into several kisses. Mabel could definitely feel those kisses, but it was still just a kiss. When a hand closed over her naked breast her eyes popped open.

That wasn't a kiss. Time's up, Clint. Mabel opened her mouth to tell him no, only to find his tongue slipping between her lips, tangling with hers. How can you say no when your mouth is fighting with him. Breathing hard, Mabel decided to let it go. He was just stroking her breast after all and quite frankly, it felt nice. Her breasts were tingling at his touch, seeming to set up resonances deeper down where fires were burning.

Mabel didn't notice when Clint eased her down onto the couch. It wasn't as though he was trying to take advantage. He was just making them both a little more comfortable. A few kisses and some light petting on her breast. She could handle this.

Clint would have to start touching her pussy if he seriously wanted to make love to her, Mabel decided. As soon as a hand touched her there, that would be it. She'd say no, loud and clear. So loud and clear that even Clint would get the message.

Mabel's confidence was rising. She could handle Clint. OK, one hand was doing strange things to her breast but the other was tangled in her hair while he kissed her. He wasn't even trying to grab her down below. So why was she feeling slightly disappointed?

The next touch Mabel felt had her eyes opening really wide. An adjustment to his hips and suddenly Clint's cock was pressing against her lips, starting to force them apart. A strangled sound came from her. Clint's hand in her hair was holding her head still while he ruthlessly ravished her mouth. How could she say no when she couldn't say anything at all. And his eyes were closed so she couldn't even signal to him that enough was enough.

Mabel started squirming, trying to out from under that intrusive cock. It was an unfortunate attempt, she had to admit. She moved the wrong way and Clint was inside her, sliding smoothly in. She stiffened, arching her back as a stab of pain went through her as Clint broke through her barriers and descended into her, nailing her neatly against the couch.

Clint was looking at her now, sympathy in his eyes. 

"It hurts initially," he consoled her, "but it will get better. Maybe you should have said no."

Mabel decided that she'd kill him. She didn't know how, but it was something she'd have to do. Should have said no? Maybe, if she hadn't been gagged by his tongue licking her tonsils, she might have been able to.

"It's fine, you rotten sod," she grumbled. "Just don't move at all."

And what had she said that was so funny, she wondered?

"That's not the way it works, sweetheart," Clint told her. "Just go with me."

Clint pressed firmly against Mabel and then withdrew slightly, watching her reactions. Again, a gentle increase of pressure against her, followed by relaxation and another slight withdrawal. 

Mabel, Clint could see, was considering what was happening to her. Her head was tilted slightly to the side while she concentrated on the feelings and emotions being stirred up within her. Her face was flushed, lips slightly swollen from being kissed, her breathing deepening as he moved gently within her.

His movement against her was subtly changing. Instead of a slow pressure and relaxation Clint was now starting to slide back and forth within Mabel. Time for some encouragement, he decided.

"You're doing well, sweetheart," he murmured. "Now why don't you start pushing up to meet me? You'll find it makes it easier." 

Feeling suspicious and nervous, and just a little excited over what was happening Mabel, followed Clint's advice. As he pushed into her she pressed up against him, giving a little squeak at the sudden increase in the sensations she was experiencing.

A natural talent, thought Clint, feeling Mabel moving under him with steadily increasing enthusiasm. He picked up the pace slightly.

Mabel lay under Clint, watching his face, unable to turn her eyes from him. She could feel her body moving in response to his, wild sensations running through her. Clint's face was the only thing she could see, a slight flush on it and a bright eagerness in his eyes as he possessed her.

Her eyes slowly closed, blotting out everything but Clint moving on her, in her. Nothing was to be allowed to distract her from that. She was gasping, pressing eagerly to meet his every move, hyper-sensitive to every movement he made.

Clint took Mabel along slowly, gradually increasing the tempo, giving Mabel time to adjust as he drove her along the path he wanted her to take. She was his now, her every movement attested to that fact. He increased the pace a little more.

Mabel was lost. She bounced happily under Clint, letting him make the running. Joyfully she responded, delighting in what was being done to her. Tensions were building in her, but she was willing to let them. Clint was in control and he wouldn't hurt her.

Clint was fast running out of control. Mabel under him, pleasing him, was becoming more than he could handle. He gave a final acceleration, driving in hard and fast for the run home.

When Mabel felt Clint coming inside her she tensed for a moment. A moment was all the time her body allowed her. Her climax swept through her, picking her up and carrying her away, finally leaving her stranded and gasping, unsure what had happened but wanting it to happen again.

Lying there afterwards, Mabel broached the subject of her going home.

"Do you mind if I borrow a couple of Marie's things to wear going home?" she asked.

"Yes and no," replied Clint. "You may borrow some of Marie's things until I get you your own things. But you are home. You're mine now, remember? That means this is your home. And it has the advantage that you won't find yourself being sold off."

"Clint," protested Mabel. "I can't just move into Marie's room. What would she say?"

"Nothing. You won't be in Marie's room, sweetheart," smiled Clint. 

Clint



ALL SEXUAL CONTACT IS BETWEEN ADULTS.

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SEXUAL RELATIONS BETWEEN MEN.

*****

I saw his stomach muscles tighten and I knew he was ready to shoot his load. I moved closer to him, hoping some of his semen would land on me. I couldn't hold off any longer and he stepped back as I ejaculated, my cum firing out in thick white ropes, landing on the ground between us. I'd never shot as much before, never had a more satisfying sexual experience.

Clint looked into my eyes, amused as he moaned. Then he turned his back to me and I watched his ass clench as he ejaculated. I didn't see him cum at all. After he finished he turned back to me and grinned. I wanted to hit him for depriving me of seeing him shoot his load after he'd watched me cum.

My hero was a total bastard.

*********************

I first met my cousin Clint when I was nine and he was sixteen. To him I was just his kid cousin that he played games with and entertained while I visited our grandfather. To me he became a hero and I wanted to grow up to be just like him. I wouldn't see him again for ten years when I was nineteen and he was twenty six. I was stunned when I saw him again and he became more than a hero to me. 

When I was eighteen my paternal grandfather died and left his corn farm to me and to my cousin, Clint, seven years older. We were his only grandchildren, his only living family. Clint's parents had adopted him as an infant and my father never accepted him as a nephew, hating anything that was part of his older brother.

Then Clint's parents were killed in a car crash when he was three and Granddad raised him on the Nebraska farm. I was born when he was seven and I didn't even meet him until I was nine when Dad was sent to jail for twelve weeks. I stayed with Granddad while Dad was in jail, managing to fail the eighth grade as a result of it.

It was my first experience on the farm and I loved every minute of it. Granddad knew it and would have liked it for me to stay with him but when Dad got out of jail I had to go back to California. At least I got to meet Clint. He was sixteen, in high school, and everything I wanted to be; handsome, happy, filled with fun and a joy of living. And he was girl crazy.

Dad's problems stemmed from him being an alcoholic and a pothead, the exact opposite of his high achieving older brother. He always told me Clint wasn't really my cousin and that I was to stay away from him. I didn't really have much choice, I only saw him during that one three month visit to the farm.

Dad died of a drug overdose when I was eighteen and Granddad attended the funeral. Clint, then twenty-five, stayed home. My own mother had died of a drug overdose when I was six and when Dad died he was on his fifth wife, Stella, my fourth stepmother.  

Dad had no money to leave us and Granddad made a deal to pay support to Stella to let me finish the last three months of my senior year. He also gave me a copy of his will, telling me he had cancer, and that he was leaving me half the farm. I wanted to quit and stay with him but he wouldn't let me. He promised he'd be at waiting at the farm for me when I graduated.

The day I graduated I called Granddad to tell him. Clint told me he'd died the night before. The next day I boxed up my few possessions and had them shipped to Nebraska. Then I put a few clothes and toiletries in a sports carry all bag and flew to Omaha. I left behind a stepmother who was only too glad to see me go. All she was going to miss was the monthly check Granddad had sent her until I graduated.

I exited the plane with my heart in my throat, nervous about meeting Clint for the first time in ten years. He was twenty-six to my nineteen. Clint was supposed to meet me at the airport, instead a buxom blonde had a sign with my name on it.

"My name's Cherie Adams, Levi. Clint sent me to pick you up because he couldn't make it. I'm so sorry about your grandfather, he was a great man."

I had no idea why Clint couldn't meet me, he could have had a good reason but I was angry. Cherie was one of those people who are cheery and full of conversation. And fake as hell. She never shut up all way to the farm in the middle of nowhere. Clint, Clint, Clint. She sang his praises for over a hundred miles and it was clear to me that he fucked her regularly.

She pulled in the long driveway, drove up to the farmhouse, and handed me a key.

"Clint said to just let yourself in and make yourself at home," she smiled. "He put all of your boxes in one of the bedrooms but he said if you don't like it you can move them all to another room. There're four more vacant bedrooms but he asked that you not move into your grandfather's room. I think you'll like the room you're in, I helped him pick it out for you."

I resented her telling me about my grandfather's house as if she was a part of it. I'd put up with four wicked stepmothers, two of them just like Cherie, and I couldn't bear the thought that she was, or might become, a member of the household. I was totally pissed that Clint hadn't met me at the airport and further insulted me by not even being at home when I arrived.

I quickly discovered that my things had been put in one of the three large bedrooms with its own bathroom. Of the other two rooms, one was Granddad's and the other was Clint's. The other bedrooms were guest rooms with a single bathroom that served them. 

I began to unpack my things, putting them away in closets and drawers, pictures on the tops of the dresser and chest of drawers. I put my lockbox under the bed. The lockbox was one of the reasons I'd wanted to ship everything. It contained my dildo and couple of butt plugs along with my collection of gay porn, not the sort of things you'd want to show going through airport security.

I explored the house and was sitting in the kitchen having some lemonade when I heard a tractor in the drive. I went outside as Clint pulled up the house. I watched as he climbed down from the tractor with easy grace, the well-defined muscles of his thighs stretching in his tight jeans. His ass was a work of art and I felt my cock getting erect.

In the ten years since I'd seen Clint, he'd turned into a total stud. He was rugged, masculine, tough, a real man's man, no pun intended. He was broad shouldered and muscular, the muscles of his upper body rippling under the clinging fabric of his tee shirt. His hair was sun bleached blond and his arms had a light covering of soft hair that shone golden under the sun. I could see a tuft of chest hair escaping from the top of his tee shirt.

Clint removed his cowboy hat and gloves, putting them on the seat of the tractor, and walked toward me. My muscles tensed, not sure how to act at our first meeting in a decade. He removed his sunglasses and I looked into the stunning dark blue eyes that I remembered. He held his hand out to me.

Clint's grip was firm and strong, the hands of a working man. I was glad that I exercised regularly, lifting weights, so that I returned his handshake with equal firmness. His hand was warm and I looked at the prominent veins that ran up his arms from hard work.

I blushed, dazed by his overwhelming masculinity and confidence.

"It's good to see you, Levi," he grinned. "You've really grown up into a man. How long's it been, eight, ten years? And you're what, seventeen, eighteen?"

"Ten, and I turned nineteen last month. It's good to see you again, Clint. Sorry it has to be under these circumstances."

"Yeah, it's a real shame. You've just got here and Granddad's funeral is tomorrow. Have you got all your stuff unpacked yet?"

I nodded.

"The room's really nice. I stayed in it when I was here before."

"I remember. It's one of the biggest bedrooms in the house and it has its own bathroom. I figured an owner shouldn't stay in a guest room," he drawled.

There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Of course I realize you're a big city boy and you probably don't plan to stay on a country farm but it should hold you over for a while."

"I intend to stay, Clint," I said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere and I don't like the big city. This is the only real home I've ever known even though I was only here for six weeks when I was nine."

"Really? And here I thought I'd only see you every once in a while when you came to check on your share of the profits."

I reddened. He was being a total bastard.

"No, I'm here to stay. I've got a lot to learn but I'm here to stay."

"What? No college plans?"

"None in the foreseeable future. Maybe in a few years, I don't know."

"Well, there's plenty of work to be done here and you can bet I'll show you how to pull your weight. Starting after the funeral," he grinned sexily.

I guess I must have looked surprised because he laughed.

"The animals may have loved Granddad but they'll still be hungry and need to be fed."

"I was surprised that your girlfriend Cherie met me at the airport," I said tentatively.

"Yeah. Sorry about that but farm work waits for no man and she'd already offered so I took her up on it. Did everything go okay?"

I nodded.

"She seems to think you're god on earth."

He snickered and preened like a peacock.

"She's got a fine pussy and I tap it every now and then. She'd like to catch me but I like a little variety. What'd you think of her tits?"

"She's got a nice rack," I swallowed.

We'd only been together for a few minutes and already Clint was talking about sex, bragging about his sexual conquests. I wasn't sure how to take him, couldn't decide if he was serious or teasing me.

"Well, if you like 'em I'm sure Cherie would be up for a threesome," he smirked. "We've done it before. Of course it's always been me with two girls but I'm sure she'd be up for two men fucking her."

I didn't make any comment. I really wasn't interested in fucking Cherie but if it was the only way to see Clint naked then I'd go along with it.

"Did you leave a girlfriend behind, someone you fucked regular? I'll bet the women crawled all over you, Levi."

"No, I'm not leaving anything behind that I can't do without. Trust me."

"You must spend a lot of time in the gym because you've really filled out since I saw you the last time. I've got some weights in the barn if you're interested."

"I'm glad you noticed my efforts," I laughed. "Maybe you and I can work out together. 

He laughed.

"We'll see how you feel about the weights after a few days of hard work here."

"Well, whatever you do it seems to work for you. You're in good shape and if Cherie's any example of your effect on the local women then you should be happy."

"It gets lonely out here on the farm and it's nice to get a piece of ass occasionally."

He was eyeing me up and down, appraising me.

"I hope your cooking's good. I'm a pretty good cook but I get tired of eating my own cooking."

"I've never had anyone complain. In fact, it's the only thing my Dad and my stepmothers never complained about."

"How are you at keeping house? It's a real chore to do, that and work the farm, but Granddad was always a stickler for a spotlessly clean house."

"I've got plenty of experience."

"We can start you off on that. The house needs a good spring cleaning. It's overdue."

Warning bells went off in my mind but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't plan to be relegated to the role of a farm wife.

"I don't mind cleaning the house but I'm capable of a lot more than that. I hope you realize that."

"I don't realize a damn thing, Levi. I'm just trying to take things one day at a time, just trying to find out if you've got what it takes to be here so I can train you or if you're going to cut and run when you see how really hard this work is."

"I'm not going to cut and run, Clint," I said coldly. "I've put up with more shit than you can dish out and I'm tougher than you can even imagine."

He put his hands up defensively and grinned.

"It sounds like you've had a rough life, Levi. I hope you're not disappointed by moving to the farm because life here's not a cakewalk either."

His blue eyes were noncommittal but his body language was suspicious.

"I don't think I'll be disappointed, Clint. After the life I've had this place looks like paradise."

He shook his head.

"Four stepmothers. I'm glad I never had to put up with that kind of shit. Grandma died when I was nine, you were about two at the time, and then it was just Granddad and me. He was great to live with and I loved him."

"You're lucky you had him. I've lived in eight states, California twice. What with Dad being an alcoholic and a pothead and having four stepmothers after Mom died we just never seemed to be anywhere for more than a year or so. The last stepmother, Stella, wasn't so bad but she was ready for me to clear out when I did. The only reason she tolerated me was because Granddad sent that monthly support check to her until I graduated."

"I didn't realize it was so bad. Well, I'm going to put the tractor away and call it a day. We can fix supper together and get to bed early. Morning comes early on a farm, if you remember."

I waited on the porch for him to put the tractor away. When we walked into the house I was astonished when Clint took off his boots and stripped naked in the mudroom. It doubled as the laundry room and there was a washer and dryer. He threw his clothes into a hamper. He saw me staring in surprise and laughed.

"It's just us, Levi, and you need to get used to seeing me naked. We're both men and I take my sweaty clothes off in the mudroom every day. I expect you to do it too. After you work your ass off keeping this house clean you'll appreciate the wisdom of leaving dirty boots and clothes in the mudroom. If you're too shy you can get yourself a robe," he grinned.

My face was red but I saw the sense in what he was saying. His clothes were filthy, dusty and grimy, and his boots had dried mud on them.

"And I like to sit around the house and watch TV at night in my underwear, sometimes naked. You got a problem with that?"

It was as if he was taunting me and wanted me to know it.

"You didn't do this when I was here before," I swallowed.

Clint snorted.

"Grow up, Levi. We're just a couple of men here. You'd never have lasted in a college dormitory. What ARE you, a prude? Or gay?"

He was carrying on this conversation with me totally naked, as if it was nothing. And I suppose it would have been nothing if I hadn't been gay and already wanting him. Damn, this wasn't going to be easy. His body was all I desired in a man, tall, flawless, with hair in all the right places. And his cock was at least eight inches long and thick as a beer can. 

He caught me staring at his cock and I saw it plump up a bit.

"Like what you see?" he grinned.

I didn't say anything and he laughed. He walked away and I stared at the most perfect ass that walked this earth. It was attached to long legs covered in short soft blond hair, legs that seemed to go on forever. He stopped at the doorway and turned. I knew he caught me staring at his ass.

"If it's not too much to ask of you after that hard flight, do you think you could rustle us up something for supper?" he asked sarcastically. "If not, I'll do it when I get out of the shower."

"Yeah, I'll be glad to do it," I said coolly. "I'm going to take a quick shower myself and I'll do it as soon as I'm done."

"You do that, sport."

I fought my usual hostile reaction to adults telling me what to do in that tone of voice. Clint was arrogant, he'd assumed a superior attitude toward me, and he talked down to me like I was a child to be tolerated.

I went into my bathroom and took a shower. I jacked off thinking of Clint and then turned the water to cold. When I was like a prune and my dick had shrunk down to four inches I finally got out.

I put on a pair of drawstring board shorts with a tee shirt and leather thongs. It was my house too and I might as well get comfortable in it, dress as I pleased. And Clint might as well get comfortable with me. I walked out to the kitchen and checked out the fridge and pantry for what to make for supper. I decided to make a taco salad and I put the ground meat on to cook.

Clint came into the kitchen barefoot and wearing only a pair of white briefs. They barely held his cock in and his pubic bush spilled out of the waistband.

"What're you fixing?"

"Taco salad. You've got all of the fixings so I figured you must like it."

"I got the ingredients because Cherie wanted to fix it. She cooks for me occasionally."

"Is she over here a lot?"

"Why? Does it bother you?" he chuckled.

"I'm not sure. I feel like I've stepped into your harem and you're used to fucking a different woman every night. I don't want to feel like I'm in the way but it's my house too and I'm not going to hide in my bedroom for you to romp through the house with naked women."

I spoke firmly, he was going to find out that I was no fucking pushover. I wanted to establish some ground rules quickly, hoping that we weren't going to start off fighting. Clint had no idea of the battlegrounds I'd been on in my young life and I wasn't going to let him walk all over me. I just hoped I could establish a decent relationship with him as our egos clashed.

"I'll be sure that we only fuck in my room," he snickered. "No more fucking in every room of the house unless you're joining in. Particularly not on the kitchen table."

He was amused again and he looked at my crotch. I was getting an erection and I blushed, furious with myself that it was so easy for him to embarrass me.

Clint adjusted his penis and grinned at me.

"If you've got this all under control do you mind if I go watch a little television? After all, I've worked my ass off all day."

"Sure, go ahead. I'll call you when it's done."

"I usually eat off a tray in front of the TV. Is that okay with you?"

He walked away, his magnificent ass bouncing in his tight jockeys. As he got to the kitchen door he looked back at me and caught me watching his ass. He shook his finger at me playfully and laughed.

He knew. Clint knew I was gay and he was enjoying himself teasing me. Well, I was no fool and I wasn't going to play games with him. I'd never make the first move and I could pick up a girl just like him; and fuck her too. It definitely wouldn't be the first time and I could keep him guessing about my sexual preferences.

But I'd masturbate thinking of him.

I finished getting the salad ready and took our trays into the living room.

"What'd you want to drink, Clint?"

"I'll take a beer."

"I'll get it."

I went back to the kitchen and got him a beer and me a glass of lemonade.

"What no beer for you? Are we out?"

"Nah, there's plenty, I just hate the taste of beer."

"So what do you do for a buzz, Levi? Marijuana? I've never liked it."

"I get high on exercise and I'm really not too much into that sort of thing. Dad's drugs and alcohol turned me off that scene completely."

"I know what you mean. I limit myself to five beers a week and I never get drunk. Too much beer and cola will make you fat. Well, enjoy your lemonade. Cherie made it."

He'd been eating on his salad and he looked at me.

"You make this salad a hell of a lot better than Cherie," he grinned. "Of course, I don't want you to tell her that."

I'd had just about enough of hearing about Cherie and it showed on my face. Cherie this, Cherie that. Her constant cheerfulness just didn't ring true to me. I'd seen her type before, both male and female.

Clint looked into my eyes, entertained by my discomfort. He knew damned well that I already didn't like Cherie.

We watched a boring television show that Clint seemed to like. Then after he finished eating he went over to a cabinet and took out a DVD. He put it in the player and suddenly the screen was showed a man fucking a woman in the opening scene.




Clint



"This okay with you, Levi? I like to watch porn and I usually jack off here on the couch at the end of a long day. Of course, in deference to you I'll do it in my room after I get so hot I can't hold it anymore."

His eyes were laughing at me again.

"Porn doesn't offend you, does it? Or maybe this isn't the kind of porn you like? I've got all kinds. Well, ALMOST all kinds. I don't have any really kinky shit."

"No, I like porn," I said nervously.

"Good. I hope this isn't too much for you right away but you need to know what I'm like, Levi. You're an adult now and if you're going to live here you need to know I'm a sexual person and I'm not shy. I'm not going to hide in my bedroom and change my whole life because you're here. Somehow I don't think you're a prude, are you, Levi?"

He grabbed his cock through his jockeys and squeezed it, his eyes dancing.

Clint was really trying to push me over the edge. I swallowed hard, glancing at his cock, straining against the cotton of his already overloaded briefs. Part of me wanted to get on my knees and suck him off and the other part wanted to knock him on his ass.

"I'm no prude, Clint," I said quietly, blushing. "Do you think you're going to run me off because you're an exhibitionist?"

"The thought never crossed my mind," he smirked. "I just want to make sure you're not a Bible thumper. You do jack off, don't you?"

I blushed again and nodded.

"Of course I jack off."

"It shouldn't embarrass you, Levi. You keep getting red in the face but guys do this all the time. Watch porn and jack off. It was one of the highlights of dorm life."

"And yet you've got this harem of women that you fuck. When do you find time to jack off with all the pussy you get? That and you work this farm all day too."

"I've always got time for sex, Levi. Sometimes I jack off in the fields. It's fun to be naked outside and you need to try it. The nearest neighbor's over two miles away. You're too damned inhibited for your own good."

I looked at Clint's crotch and his cock was so hard it looked like the cotton cloth was going to tear. It was a feat of physics that it could stay contained in his tight underwear. I looked up and he was grinning at me.

"You like my body, don't you?"

I must have turned purple and he laughed softly.

"What did I tell you about being embarrassed? I find it flattering, Levi. After all, I like your body too."

He was teasing me, laughing at me, and I wasn't going to take the bait.

"Granddad dying must have really given you a sense of freedom to use the house as your sexual playpen."

He burst out laughing.

"Granddad used to travel a lot and I had my freedoms... He's only been dead a few days, Levi. He's not in the ground yet. But yeah, I figured I was going to be able to walk around naked, fuck, jack off, do whatever I wanted until I found out you were coming. The thing is, Levi, we're both grown men and you'd better get used to me. You're not my keeper."

He was mocking me, flagrantly mocking me and it made me angry.

"You can do whatever the fuck you want, Clint, even shit on the floor, and I don't care as long as you clean it up," I said hotly. "You just prepare yourself for the fact that I have the same freedoms that you do. We BOTH own this farm."

"So you've said."

I'm not sure what the look on my face was like but he was enjoying himself.

"Well, as long as we're clear on that then let the games begin," he laughed.

Clint's briefs had a wet spot from his precum.

"We're really going to have to double team a woman, Levi. I'd like to see you in action."

I wanted to eat him up like dessert when he grinned as he was doing.

"And I'm sure you'd like to watch ME fuck a woman."

I couldn't look at him. My eyes were burning and I wanted him so bad it was all I could do not to just get on my knees and suck his cock right there. And he fucking well knew it.

He turned to the television screen, watching a woman in an orgy. One cock in her pussy, one in her ass, and one in her mouth.

"Now this is a hot scene," he said softly, his voice hoarse. "This scene gets me off all the time."

Clint rubbed his cock through his jockeys, jacking it through the cotton cloth.

My cock was dribbling so much precum there was a wet spot on my board shorts. I wouldn't touch my cock, no way was I blowing a load in my shorts in front of him.

I watched as the wet spot on his shorts got bigger from his precum. I was staring and Clint suddenly looked into my eyes and swallowed hard. His body tensed and he ejaculated into his shorts, the thick cum seeping through. He stood up and pulled his briefs off. He wiped the tip of his cock, still erect.

"I'll leave you to it," he whispered. "I'm going to go take another shower."

His face was flushed and I couldn't take my eyes off his cock. It had a bell shaped head that was smooth and dark pink, still hard. He walked away from me and I stared at his ass. I wanted to chase after him, to suck his cock and lick his incredible ass.

I watched Clint go to the mudroom to throw his jockeys in the hamper. As he walked out he looked into my eyes and grinned. His cock was bouncing, still plump, as he walked. He disappeared down the hall where the bedrooms were and a few minutes later I heard his shower running.

My face was burning and I couldn't stop myself. I walked into the mudroom to find his underwear. They were laying on the top of the washing machine, open, showing his thick cum that still had not been absorbed, almost as if he'd arranged them there for me. I didn't care.

I picked up his shorts and buried my face in them. I could smell his cum and I could smell him. I sucked the cloth, sucking his cum into my mouth. I pulled my shorts down and masturbated furiously. I finished sucking his jockeys and ejaculated into them. I stripped and threw my clothes and his briefs into the hamper.

As I came into the kitchen he was standing naked at the counter, peeling a banana. My face went blood red. My cock was still hard and he had a sexy smirk on his face as he looked at it.

"I guess the DVD got to you huh?" he grinned. "I wanted a snack before I go to sleep."

He looked down at his cock, now soft but still around five inches long, thick and hanging over his hairy ball sack.

"I always sleep nude."

The way he ate the banana was absolutely obscene, his eyes staring into mine. I was paralyzed, my feet planted into the floor.

"You've got a great body, Levi. And that's quite a dick you've got there."

He threw the banana peel in the trash can.

"I need to make sure the back door is locked."

He walked past me and checked the lock. As he walked back he looked into the mudroom and grinned at me.

"Good night, Levi. Sleep tight."

As he walked past me he slapped my ass and laughed softly. I followed him, staring at his body, headed to my room. As he turned to go into his room he looked into my eyes and wagged his finger at me playfully. He chuckled and went into his room, closing the door.

My heart leapt into my throat. He'd left his jockeys on the washing machine and I'd thrown them in the hamper after I sucked them. He'd left them there deliberately and I'd done exactly what he'd expected me to do. And I'd stupidly thrown them in the hamper instead of leaving them on the washer. Clint was playing with me, it was why he'd gone to check the back door lock.

I went to bed and dreamed of him.

The next day we buried Granddad in the graveyard behind a country church. The church service was filled with people who knew him and Clint. Everyone was nice and comforting as they always are at funerals but as soon as everyone found out my father was the black sheep of the family they looked at me as if I had leprosy.

We went back to the farm where the women of the neighborhood had laid out a feast for everyone. It was a custom I was unfamiliar with. When my own mother died she'd been cremated and there wasn't a funeral, I wasn't even sure what had happened to the ashes. I smiled at people but I did everything I could to blend into the walls.

People kept staring at me and whispering and then I heard Clint's voice clearly.

"Cut him a break, Lucille, all of you. The kid's life's been pure hell what with Richard being a drug addict and an alcoholic. And his own mother died of a drug overdose. He's had four stepmothers. Is it any wonder that he's shy? Most people would be crazy after what he's been through and he seems like just like a normal guy."

"Well, I still think it was wrong for Horace to leave him half of the farm. That boy doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground about farming. What're you going to do with him, hold his hand?"

"I'm going to teach him how to farm," Clint said firmly. "And Levi and I are going to be just fine together."

I quickly walked to my room and cried, the first tears I'd cried in years. I was startled when my door opened and Clint was standing there. He stepped forward and took me in his arms, cradling my head on his shoulders.

"Granddad was the only person in my whole life who ever loved me," I wept, unashamed. "And now he's gone and it's like I'm alone in the world."

"It's okay," he whispered. "I know I'm an ass sometimes but you and I are going to be okay, you hear me? You've got me and believe it or not, I love you too, Levi."

I felt his lips brush my hair and he squeezed me tight.

"I don't want to leave you in here crying, Levi, I won't do it. But we need to see to our guests. Can we do that together?"

I nodded as he handed me some tissues.

"Now blow your nose like a good little boy," he grinned, "and go wash your face."

I was nineteen but he talked to me like I was a grieving child and I was struck by the fact that he seemed so much older. Much older than the twenty six he was, already a man in charge of a thousand acre farm. I'd never had anyone to really care for me, to hold me in their arms while I cried. Suddenly I was closer to Clint than I'd ever thought possible.

We went back out into the crowd and I tried to mingle with them, to let them know that I was really just a human being, even if my mother ended up a drug addict and my father was a hopeless alcoholic and pothead. I even managed to laugh, imagining what gossip my parents must have provided for this group of upright Midwestern farmers.

At last everyone was gone, except for Cherie and her mother, Susie. I sat in a soft chair in the living room, barely able to keep my eyes open.

"Levi, you're exhausted," Clint said softly. "You're pale, dude. I want you to go to bed and get some rest. Remember what I said? Morning comes early on the farm. Cherie and Susie and I will finish up in here."

I said good night to all and went to bed. I had a dreamless sleep and was awakened by Clint standing in my doorway.

"Time to get up, California boy. I've got breakfast ready. And you need to dress for work."

I sat up naked with a morning woodie. My face reddened and I looked at him, exasperated.

"Can I get some privacy?"

"No," he laughed. "It's okay. All men wake up with hard-ons in the morning."

I was grumpy and not in the mood for his shit so early in the morning.

"Fuck you, Clint," I said through gritted teeth.

"Maybe, IF you ask me nice," he laughed. "Get some clothes on and come eat before it gets cold. And I want you ready to leave when I leave."

We ate breakfast and went outside. He showed me the barn first and the farm equipment, the different tractors, the plows and harrows, the seeder, the fertilizer spreader, the combine, and a seemingly unending number of things needed to keep the farm going. He introduced me to the cows, the chickens, and the Manx cats that took care of vermin problems. There was so much that I'd never realized was needed to run a farm this size.

"Clint, there's so much," I said in wonder. "How do you do all of this, keep this up by yourself?"

"When Granddad was alive he and I were able to take care of most of it by ourselves but we've always taken on a work crew during planting and harvesting. Granddad hired a couple of guys to help out regular, particularly while I was in college. And now that he's gone I'm going to keep them on. They help out on our farm and the Jenkins farm next to us. I can't wait until I get you up to speed."

"When I stayed with Granddad that three months I had a lot of fun. I never realized everything that was involved, he just wanted me to enjoy my stay here. And you were always so nice to me Clint."

"You were just a kid, Levi, and we just figured you'd do like your Dad and stay away. Granddad still wanted you to have half the farm, hoping you'd come here and love it like I do."

Clint was proud of the farm, it was written all over him. He loved the place.

"And you? Do you resent that he left me half the farm when you've worked it your whole life?"

He looked at me and sighed.

"I'll be honest with you, Levi. I don't have the money to buy out your half if you decide you don't like it and want to sell your half. And this is my whole life. It's what Granddad sent me to college for, to be able to manage this farm and keep it going."

I could see Clint was worried and I touched his arm. I looked into his eyes and there was no resentment of me, just concern about the farm.

"I promise you this, Clint, you'll never have to worry about me selling my half of the farm to someone else. I'd never do that to you. Anyway I came here to stay. I told you before that I wanted to come here, that I want to learn how to work this farm. I loved it as a kid."

"You don't know how happy that makes me, Levi," he said, his eyes showing emotion that I hadn't seen from him before.

"And I love you, Clint. You're my cousin, my only living relative now."

"You're ADOPTED cousin, as your father was always reminding Granddad. Somehow I think your father thought Granddad would die and leave the farm just to him and then he'd sell it."

"My father was a total jerk. Any money he ever got his hands on went to booze and drugs."

He suddenly hugged me to him.

"I'm glad you're here, Levi, and I think things are going to work out fine. Just remember, I'll never expect you to work any harder than I do."

"I think it'll take me awhile to get up to your speed, Clint," I laughed.

"I'll get you there faster than you think."

He drove me around the farm in the truck and it was much bigger than I remembered. We parked in a grove of trees and I saw a sign with the dog Buster's name on it.

"I've been going to ask you about Buster," I asked. "I wondered why there was no dog on the farm, what happened to him."

"He died a few weeks before you got here. I want us to go together to pick out another dog. The Jenkins dog had puppies about a month ago and they should be weaned pretty soon."

"Thanks for thinking of me, Clint. I'd like that."

"We need to always think of each other, Levi. That way we'll be happy together," he said softly.

I looked into his eyes and blushed. He laughed.

"I hope so, it's what I want," I swallowed hard.

"Have I shocked you, Levi? I want you to be comfortable with me. I stay horny a lot. I hope you're okay with it," he said hoarsely. "I used to walk around naked in the house a lot when Granddad wasn't around and I'm wondering how you'll handle all of this."

"You can walk around naked all you want. I always wondered what it'd be like to have the freedom to do that," I grinned. "And I'm okay with your being a horn dog, I am too. We should get along okay as long as I'm not having to step over your women."

"Even if I share them with you? A couple of my women would love to be fucked by you. If you're into women...," he grinned and paused, "...like that."

I flushed, embarrassed. He just laughed and got out of the truck.

"I need to take a piss. If you do, here's the place. It'll be awhile before we get somewhere where you can after this."

I hesitated and he smirked.

"Come on, if you're shy you can go hide behind a tree. We haven't got all day."

He was teasing me. He unzipped his pants and pulled his penis out. I dropped my pants to my knees, showing him everything. He grinned and did the same.

He didn't turn away from me as a stream of piss shot out onto the ground. I watched him as he peed. I'd never before thought peeing could be sexy, never been at all interested in water sports, but watching Clint pee had my flesh tingling. I started to pee and let my stream cross his, giggling. It became a short game, swishing our pee streams like a fountain.

Then he stripped naked while I watched in shock. His eyes were bright with humor.

"I told you I like to be naked outside and I'm going to jack off. You can join me if you want or you can just watch."

His body was magnificent with its short blond hairs in all the right places. His pubic hair was untrimmed, wild and thick, his pendulous balls in a hairy scrotum.

I stripped and my cock was hard as a rock, pointing at the sky.

"I can see somebody's ready to shoot his load. I think you're gonna like jacking off outside."

I nodded, breathing hard.

"Go to it, Levi."

I'd never masturbated in front of anyone before but I didn't give a damn. I wanted him to see me jack off more than I wanted to watch him do it.

I stroked my cock and played with my balls. Clint mirrored my actions, copied every move I made, watching each other. This was a game to him, sex was a game to him. He had to know how much I wanted him but he wanted to tease me, a straight man taunting the gay man into a frenzy.

I saw his stomach muscles tighten and I knew he was ready to shoot his load. I moved closer to him, hoping some of his semen would land on me. I couldn't hold off any longer and he stepped back as I ejaculated, my cum firing out in thick white ropes. I'd never shot as much before, never had a more satisfying sexual experience.

Clint looked into my eyes, amused as he moaned. Then he turned his back to me and I watched his ass clench as he ejaculated. I didn't see him cum at all. After he finished he turned back to me and grinned. I wanted to hit him for depriving me of seeing him shoot his load after he'd watched me cum.

"That was fun. Let's eat."

He quickly dressed and I followed suit. I was hoping he wanted to eat naked but he was all business after we dressed. He'd made ham sandwiches for us and there were Cokes. We sat in the truck and ate as he talked to me about the farm, the work that had to be done, the business management, and what he expected my role to be. Clint wanted to include me in everything and he already seemed to value my opinion.

Our grandfather had sent him to an agricultural college for a two year program that was to enhance his knowledge of farming. Then he transferred to a university and completed his Bachelor's degree in business. He'd graduated as valedictorian of his high school and his university. I'd always thought of Clint as a country hick and I was surprised to discover that my cousin was a well-educated man who'd made our farm one of the most successful in the entire state.

Clint drove me into town and we ate apple pie at a family style restaurant. I tried to pay but Clint wouldn't let me. Then he drove me through the small town, more of a farming community village. In addition to the restaurant there was a gas station, a feed store, a hardware store, a McDonald's, and a small grocery store, plus two churches. There was also a small Sheriff's office that he said was run like Andy Griffin and Barney Fife in Mayberry. Clint told me that if we needed anything other than what we could get in town we'd have to go forty miles to the nearest city. 

He stopped and introduced me in several places and he was a popular guy. The female eyes glowed when he talked to them and followed him everywhere he walked. Clint seemed proud to introduce me and I was touched. A few people made fun of me as a city boy, saying they were taking bets on how long I'd last, and as usual I blushed. 




Clint



Clint surprised me by defending me, telling everyone I was there to stay. I saw another side of him as he showed me off and I soon realized that it wouldn't take too much for me to fall in love with him. He was everything I'd ever wanted in a man.

Cherie's car was parked in front of the house when we pulled into the driveway. She was sitting on the porch waiting for us, fanning herself with an old fashioned paper fan.

"What? She doesn't have her own key to the house?" I asked sarcastically.

Clint laughed.

"Hell no, none of my women do. Otherwise they'd be here all the time and some of them would move in while I'm in the field. I don't need to deal with cat fights."

"I'm glad to see there are no problems with your ego, Clint."

We pulled up next to her car and he reached over and ruffled my hair. He laughed and his knowing eyes teased me.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you're jealous, Cousin. I don't know why because she's not your type. I don't think I'm gonna have any problems with you and any of my women, am I?"

I reddened and he got out of the truck. Cherie kissed Clint as he walked on the porch. It was a kiss that I thought was going to be followed by her fucking him on the front porch steps.

"Why don't you two get a room?" I drawled as I walked past them.

"Could you fix supper for us, Lucy?"

Clint's Cuban accent was spot on and we all laughed.

"Sure, Ricky," I replied. "I'll keep an eye out for Fred while you and Vivian fuck. Don't mind me."

We all went into the house, Clint and Cherie to his room, me to mine to change clothes. I took a shower and masturbated, thinking of Clint fucking her. I dressed in shorts and a tee shirt and walked barefoot into the hall. 

As I passed his room I heard the two of them going at it with Cherie shrieking like a two dollar whore, screaming about Clint's cock tearing her pussy apart. Then I noticed the door was not fully closed and I couldn't stop myself. I peered through the opening and saw Clint slamming his cock into her pussy, his huge balls slapping her ass. 

I'd just jacked off but instantly my cock was hard again. I squeezed it through my shorts and then I happened to look in Clint's dresser mirror. He was watching me and when our eyes met he winked and grinned. Then he pursed his lips like he was blowing me a kiss. I don't know how a person can feel faint and be purple in the face at the same time. I walked away with the scene burned into my mind, wanting to be in Cherie's place.

I walked on to the kitchen and started supper, trying to calm myself, steeling myself for Clint and Cherie eventually appearing. I wondered if he'd tell her I'd seen them, hoping he wouldn't. I fried chicken, made mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. I also made a lemon meringue pie, all of this while it seemed there was an unending marathon of Clint fucking her and Cherie's nerve wracking shrieks and moans.

Supper was ready and the two of them still had not appeared. I ate and left the pie in the fridge and everything else on the stove. Some people might have retreated to their bedroom, embarrassed to look them in the eye. Not me. I went into the living room and checked out Clint's collection of movies, ignoring his incredible collection of porn. I chose an old John Wayne western and began to watch it.

"Supper smells delicious," Cherie called from the kitchen.

I could hear her getting plates and silverware.

"I hope you like it," I called back, cool as a cucumber.

Then Clint walked into the living room and our eyes met, his filled with amusement. He was barefoot, only wearing board shorts, and he stood with his crotch in my face, his toes touching mine.

"You didn't have to leave," he laughed softly. "I left the door cracked so you could watch."

"Don't worry. I pretty much got a play by play of how good you are from her. You wouldn't want to fuck her in a church bathroom."

He burst out laughing and slapped my head playfully.

"I really love you, Cousin. I can see we're going to have a good time together."

"It's ready, honey!"

Clint winked at me again and left to eat. I watched the movie while they ate and Clint walked her to her car after they finished. A few minutes later he came to the door of the living room with an almost obscene grin on his face.

"I'm going to turn in early, Levi. I'm exhausted," he chuckled, "and we've got a busy day tomorrow."

He was so appealing I wanted to crawl on my knees to him and suck his cock but I just nodded and went back to John Wayne. After it ended I watched his DVD of 'Guardians of the Galaxy'. I fell asleep on the couch after it ended and woke up at 2 AM. I staggered to bed, dreading the morning.

That was how it went for the next six months, the constant sexual teasing, his fucking Cherie, me parrying back and forth with him while he grinned that sexy grin of his and laughed playfully. Clint toyed with me, taunted me as if he was trying to force me to out myself to him. I vented my frustration by working my ass off on the farm, the same as I had with sports in school."

Then it was December and we put up the Christmas decorations. I looked forward to my first Christmas with Clint.

"Time to get up, lazy."

It was Clint with my morning wake up call. I looked at him, groggy.

"I set my alarm," I moaned.

"You set it too late," he laughed. "Now get your ass out of bed and come eat breakfast before it gets cold. We've got to get moving."

"What goddamn time should I set my alarm for?"

"Earlier than you did," he drawled.

"Fuck you."

Clint loved to wake me before my alarm went off. It was a game with us and I loved it, the intimacy of him coming in my room unannounced. He walked away laughing and I got up to shower and shave.

I went into the kitchen and he was making sandwiches. Breakfast was on the table and he'd already eaten and put his plate and silverware in the dishwasher.

"I'm making us some ham sandwiches and we'll take some potato chips and Cokes. We're going to be out all day because we've got to cut up the tree that fell that North field fence and repair it."

I'd noticed the fence the day before but Clint hadn't said anything to me when we'd fix it. We spent the entire morning cutting the big fuck ass tree into fire wood and repairing the fence. At last Clint stopped working.

"I've got take a piss, Levi. Let's go over to those trees."

"What? Do you need to hold your dick for you?"

"You can if you want to," he grinned. "I thought we'd stop and eat, take a break. We've both worked up a sweat from working."

We sat in the truck and ate quietly, slowly cooling down. It was forty-five degrees and our sweaty clothes would soon be so cold we'd have to go back to work to warm up.

"Are you going to eat your extra sandwich?" Clint asked.

I shook my head.

"Nah, two's enough. You put a lot of meat in them."

Our eyes met and I could feel sparks between us.

"I know you like meat," he grinned.

"I do. A lot."

He was quiet as he ate the sandwich and then he turned to me. He put his hand on mine as he looked into my eyes.

"I don't think I've told you how glad I am you came to the farm, Levi. Things are working out great."

I swallowed hard. I wanted to kiss him so bad my whole body ached.

"I'm glad you want me here, Clint. There's no place on earth I'd rather be."

We sat for a minute or so just looking at each other, emotion naked in our eyes. Then Clint turned the key in the ignition.

"That goddamn wood isn't going to jump off the ground and stack itself in the barn. It should give us enough firewood to last the rest of the winter with what we already have." 

We worked the rest of the day, stacked the last of the wood, and finally walked into the house. We stripped in the mud room as usual and I glanced at the magnificent body that I couldn't have. I caught him looking at me but he just smiled. 

I was sweaty and dirty and all I wanted was to take a hot shower and freshen up. I also was ready to masturbate again, to fantasize about Clint and the closeness we'd shared at lunch.

"If it's okay with you, Clint, I'm gonna go get a shower and a quick nap. Then I'll come out and make supper for us."

"You go ahead, I think I'll do the same thing. And you fixed supper last night, I'll fix tonight."

"No, you won't. You fixed breakfast, you made lunch, and I'll fix supper."

"Did anyone ever tell you you're bossy?" he grinned. "I'll help you, we'll do it together."

"Whatever."

He laughed as I walked away. God, the man was so sexy he took my breath away.

I showered and went into my bedroom. I took my dildo out of my lockbox and got on my bed. I sucked it to get it wet and then lifted my legs to my chest. I slowly slid the hard rubber dick in my asshole.

I closed my eyes and teased my hard cock. I played with my pubic hair and pinched my nipples gently. I began to moan as I fucked myself with the huge rubber cock.

"Wouldn't you rather have this in your ass?" Clint asked hoarsely.

I opened my eyes to see him naked in the doorway, holding his erect cock in his hand. I'd forgotten to lock the door and I hadn't heard him come into my room. His hair was wet from his shower. I looked at him with pure lust in my eyes.

He stepped into the room.

"Do you want me, Levi?"

I nodded.

"Say it. Say you want me, Levi."

"I want you, Clint."

He walked over to the bed, leaned down and kissed my lips lightly. The dildo was still in my ass but my cock had lost its erection.

Clint put his cock near my lips.

"Is this what you really want?" he asked softly.

I nodded, my body trembling with sexual excitement.

"Tell me that you want my cock and I'll let you have it."

I was going crazy.

"I want your cock, Clint. I want to suck your cock."

He grinned at me, that sexy all-knowing grin.

"I knew you did. I've always known it."

He put his cock at my lips.

"Kiss it and suck it, Levi."

I kissed his cock and stretched my lips around the tip. I stuck my tongue in his slit. I could taste the sweet tart taste of his precum.

"You like it?" he laughed softly.

I nodded.

"Suck it. Make me cum in your mouth."

I began to suck, stretching my lips further and further. It was like trying to suck a beer can.

"You wanna suck my balls?"

I nodded.

"Say it, Levi."

"I want to suck your balls."

"Good," he moaned. "I want you to suck my balls and lick my asshole. You wanna do that?"

I nodded, filled with desire for him, and he chuckled.

"Levi?"

"I want to suck your balls and lick your ass."

"Hole. You want to lick my asshole."

"I want to lick your motherfucking asshole, you bastard."

I squeezed his balls and gave a jerk. Clint groaned in pain and burst out laughing.

"Ooooooohhhh, temper, temper. I can tell you're hell in bed," he teased.

Clint climbed onto the bed and squatted over my face, his asshole at my lips, his balls on my chin. 

"Here you go, Levi. Lick away. It's all yours."

I sucked his balls, one at a time, rolling them around on my tongue. All the while he moaned and then I licked his asshole.

Clint almost lost his balance when I stuck my tongue in his hole. His ass was hairy and the deeper into the crevice the hairier it got, dark blond curls that tickled my face. I kissed his ass and licked it. I kissed his asshole and licked it. I fucked it with my tongue.

"I'm gonna cum, Levi," he gasped. "You want to eat my load?"

He didn't even wait for me to answer. He put the head of his cock at my lips and began to ejaculate. As he shot, he fucked my mouth and with each pass he got deeper. I never thought I'd get the head in my mouth but somehow with his fucking he managed to open me up.

Clint shot over and over into my mouth and I swallowed as fast as I could. His semen was thick and creamy, the taste sweet and musky with a hint of tartness. Clint was loud when he had an orgasm and as his body jerked he moaned and told me over and over to suck his cock, eat his ass, to let him fuck me.

At last his orgasm ended and Clint lay next to me, kissing my lips. 

"That was much better than always sucking the cum out of my undershorts, wasn't it?" he grinned.

"You knew."

"I left them there for you," he laughed softly. "Every time."

"And you always knew I was going to eat your cum out of them."

"Yep," he smirked.

He reached down and touched the dildo in my ass. He pulled it out and pushed it back in several times, fucking me with it.

My cock got erect again and he surprised me. He took my cock in his mouth and sucked it, hard. He was good at it. I don't know why but I never expected a man like him to suck a cock. Fuck me, yeah, but nothing else.

It didn't take but a couple of minutes and I exploded in to his mouth with one of the best orgasms of my life. He swallowed it and then kissed my lips, depositing some of my cum in my mouth.

"Now what do you want me to do, Levi?"

He continued to fuck me with the dildo.

"I want you to fuck me, Clint. Fuck me."

"I always knew you wanted me, Levi. From the time you I stepped off the tractor that first time," he chuckled. "It was in your eyes."

"You always knew I'm gay?"

"Yeah, I did, Levi. I've never been with a man before but I couldn't help but want you. There's just something about you, something that I've come to love."

I kissed him gently.

"I'm so glad you noticed, stud."

He grinned.

"I got rid of the hair trigger and now we'll enjoy this. You got lube?"

I pointed to my nightstand. Clint got the lube and rolled me over onto my stomach. He pushed my legs apart and knelt between them. He pulled my cheeks apart and kissed my ass, licked it, tongue fucked me, and ate my ass out until my ring was fully relaxed. He squirted lube in my ass and then he poured more onto his cock.

"We'll need a lot," he laughed softly, "but you'll get used to me in time."

Clint leaned over my back, holding himself an inch or two above me. He kissed my neck and licked me.

"This is what you've wanted from me, isn't it?" he whispered in my ear. "You've always wanted my cock."

I nodded, my eyes closed.

"Say it."

"I've always your cock, Clint, since that first day."

"I knew it. I just needed to be sure. I don't want to make a fool of myself over you."

Clint put his cock at the entrance to my hole and pushed. I'd been using butt plugs and dildos for a couple of years so I was ready for him. I pushed back against him and his tip slid in. I pushed out with my hole and more of him slid in.

He moved slowly in, sliding inch by inch, and then he hit my prostate. I began to tremble.

I gasped and moaned.

"Fuck me, Clint, fuck me."

"You like that, huh?" he laughed softly.

As he slid it his cock pressed against my prostate all the way, and every muscle in my body quivered. I clutched the sheet and twisted it. When he was all the way in, his balls against me, his bush pressing into me, he pulled out slowly.

When he'd pulled all of the way out, he squirted more lube in my ass and on his cock. He re-entered me slowly and there was almost no resistance. I could feel his cock throbbing inside me, sliding against my prostate.

"I want you, Clint, fuck me hard. Make me yours," I whispered. "I want to belong to you."

He pulled out and then slowly slid in again, over and over until he increased his speed and was fucking me like a piston, sliding in and out, driving me wild as my prostate fired over and over again with ecstasy. Then he rolled me on my back and put my feet on his shoulders, spreading my ass and allowing him complete entry. Clint fucked me with such passion that I was like a rag doll in his arms as he kissed me over and over again.

"I love your tight asshole," he whispered.

"Oh, god," I moaned. "Keep your cock in there forever. "I've never felt like this."

"I love your tight little fuck hole, baby."

Suddenly he jammed his cock in my ass in one hard thrust. I cried out with my hunger for him and pulled him closer to me, my fingers clutching and pulling his muscled back. He fucked me with a brute force.

"You like that, don't you?" he grunted. "You want me to fuck you hard with my big hard cock, don't you? Tell me you want me."

I licked the sweat off his neck and kissed him.

"I want you, Clint. I'll always want you in my bed," I panted.

"This ass belongs to me now, Levi."

"Yes, yes, yes. It's all yours, it always has been."

I never dreamed I could experience the sexual frenzy I was in.

"You're mine now, baby, all mine."

"Yes," I whispered.

I wanted to cry I was so happy in his arms. He continued to fuck me hard, pulling all the way out and slamming back into me, thrusting his cock in as far as possible, his balls slapping into my ass.

My cock exploded out another load, spraying both of us. I gripped his cock deep in me harder and harder with each shot.

"I'm gonna cum, Levi," he groaned.

And then he began to shake all over, moaning and telling me how much he loved my ass, how much he loved me, how he wanted to fuck me every day. At last his orgasm was over and he collapsed onto me, his huge cock still in my ass, my legs wrapped around him. He kissed my face tenderly and then began to fuck me again. 

Clint slammed his cock into me over and over again, sweat pouring from his body. He was moaning and his muscles flexed like a body builder, like he was lifting weights.

"I want you, Levi," he whispered. "I've wanted to do this for so long. And now you belong to me. To only me."

He kissed me, his lips bruising mine, his tongue fighting with mine.

My asshole accepted his cock with no resistance as he continued to fuck me as if his life depended on it. Then at last he arched his back and all of his muscles went taut. I could feel his cock throbbing in me as he ejaculated another huge load of his hot semen into me.

He collapsed next to me, exhausted, and held me in his arms, as he kissed me.

"Was that worth the wait?" he grinned.

"You've been teasing me all this time, you bastard. I hope you enjoyed yourself."

I hit him in the stomach with my fist, not hard enough to really hurt him but enough to make him curl up. He burst out laughing.

"I did. I kept wondering if you were going to just give up and get on your knees and suck me off."

"But I didn't."

"No, you didn't," he grinned. "You made me come to you. But I made you wait. You thought I was never coming, didn't you?"

I blushed and he laughed again.

"You did. Now tell me you're glad that I came."

"I'm glad."

"Levi? Say it all."

I slapped his shoulder and then kissed it gently.

"I'm glad you came to my room and fucked me, Clint," I whispered. "Don't ever stop."

He kissed me and laughed softly.

"I'm never going to. I gonna fuck you every day, Levi. Maybe twice. Or more. Your sweet ass belongs to me now, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I nodded. "It belongs to you, Clint."

"I always knew it," he grinned.

We fell asleep in each other's arms. When I awoke Clint was gone. I put on some shorts and walked barefoot into the kitchen. He was barefoot in jeans and a blue work shirt, unbuttoned, his hairy chest and stomach exposed. He was putting supper on the table, grilled steaks, baked potatoes, grilled corn, and dinner rolls. He looked at me with his ever present sexy grin.

"Supper's ready, handsome."

"I was going to help you."

"I figured you were exhausted from the fucking I gave you so I let you sleep."

"You're magnificent, stud, but I'm sure you hear that all the time."

He grinned and took me in his arms, kissing me.

"Yeah, but you're the one I want to hear it from, Levi."

We sat down to eat.

"What? We're not going to eat in front of the television, Clint?"

"It's steak. And I wanted the meal to be special," he smiled.

"It's delicious, Clint. You're a good cook."




Clinton



"How many inches?" she asked.

"Twelve," he said.

"Really?"

"Really."

"If you're lying, you're just wasting your time." And mine, she thought.

"I'm not."

"Okay, then. It's a date."

Tiffany hoped the jerk was telling the truth. In her experience, men often lied about the size of their dicks, and she liked her cocks big--and Black.

Supposedly, Clinton, her latest client, was both. She'd see soon enough, she thought.

Tiffany wasn't a call girl. At least, she didn't think of herself that way. She was a white woman who served Black men's fantasies. All of them, it seemed, wanted nothing as much as to fuck a white girl, usually in her ass, or to choke her half to death on their huge ebony cocks before pumping a half gallon of their thick seed down their lily white throats.

That was okay with Tiffany. She loved cocks, especially Black pricks--the bigger and Blacker, the better, as far as she was concerned. To qualify for her services, a guy had to have at least twelve inches and, preferably, more--a whole lot more. 

They had to have money, too, because, for her services, whether anal or oral intercourse, or both, she charged a flat fee of a hundred dollars. Breast implants, plastic surgery to shave her Adam's apple and modify her facial structure, electrolysis, collagen lip implants, and cosmetics weren't cheap. It was damned expensive to be--or to become--a beautiful woman, especially when, like Tiffany, one had been born a man. By making men like Clinton pay, and pay handsomely, for her services, she was able to pay for her surgeries and hormone therapy, even with the condition that a man had to be both Black and big to qualify for a "date" with her.

* * *

Tiffany answered her doorbell in the nude. She wasn't one to stand on ceremonies, and she wasn't interested in small talk, not when she'd scheduled three more dates back to back, the next due to arrive in an hour.

Clinton, apparently, didn't believe in wasting time; he was naked as soon as she'd closed the front door to her penthouse suite. He was quite a specimen of manhood, Tiffany observed, with handsome facial features, a thick neck, broad shoulders, a barrel chest, tight six-pack abs, sinewy thighs, bulging calves, a sculpted back, and compact buttocks. He had big balls, and his monster cock would easily measure a foot in length, were Tiffany to apply the tape measure she carried in her purse.

He passed the color test, too. Clinton was Blacker than "Black." He was coal Black, pitch Black, starless midnight Black.

His eyes swept from her boyish penis and small balls to the round, firm pair of breasts she'd had implanted just last year. His prick was half-erect already at the thought of what he intended to do to her. Grasping his mammoth member in his hand, Clinton smirked. "I'm goan shove dis muvvafuckah up yo' lily-why ass, an den I'm goan shove it down yo' throat," he said, adopting a dialect that, Tiffany suspected, was as inauthentic as it was meant to sound--what?--thuggish? "You think you kin take all my man meat, bitch?"

Tiffany suppressed a giggle. She also managed not to say any of the half dozen rejoinders that leaped to mind. Men--especially Black men, it seemed to her--didn't take kindly to jokes about their manhood. "I'll sure give it a try" is all she said.

"Well, den, bitch, try! I wants to see elbows and knees."

Tiffany started toward the bed, knowing his eyes must be on her sleek, firm, round ass.

"Not the bed, the flo'."

The floor, although carpeted, would be hard on the knees, she thought, but she'd been paid a week in advance, and his request was reasonable under the circumstances. She assumed the position, her knees spread, her ass high in the air, and the weight of her upper body resting upon her elbows, forearms, and palms.

She felt him sidle up to her. Having knelt behind her, he "walked" closer, taking his place between her creamy thighs. For a moment, holding his massive member in his fist, he studied its blackness against the pale pink flesh of her flawless buttocks.

As always, the contrast between ebony and ivory excited him tremendously. Although he knew that the notion was irrational, it seemed to him that, every time he ravished a white woman, he was avenging her forebears' brutal treatment of his ancestors, whom they'd enslaved, beaten, lynched, and bought and sold like property.

At the same time, it seemed to him that he was humiliating their men, because he was using their white women as if they were nothing but sluts and whores, which, to his way of thinking, they pretty much were.

For the same reason, he never fucked a white woman in her cunt. He reserved that honor for Black ladies. He insisted upon butt-fucking and throat-fucking white bitches, because such acts were expressions of contempt, as he saw it, not love. When he fucked a white transsexual, he was expressing his hatred for both white men and white women, all at the same time, because a shemale was both a man and a woman, he thought, without being either, completely.

Now, he grinned, as guiding his monstrous hunk of man-meat between the silken globes of Tiffany's sweet cheeks, he imagined how brutally he would fuck this honky bitch. He'd rip her a new one before he was done, and leave her whimpering in his cum.

Her asshole stopped the advance of his member. Tiffany wasn't a virgin, no way. In fact, as a call girl, she'd been fucked hundreds, maybe thousands, of times, always in her ass, of course, since she was a t-girl instead of a woman born and bred. Nevertheless, somehow, her anus seemed to have remained as tight as any virgin's would be. Of course, the sheer size of his own equipment would also make the white bitch's butt hole seem tighter. Still, she was snugger than he'd have expected, and the stout resistance of her anal sphincter had surprised him.

It was no real obstacle, though, and, with slow, steady pressure, holding his cock on target, he was able to penetrate the transsexual's ass, shoving his thick, hard prick all the way through her tight anal embrace, so that her sleek ass cheeks flattened before him and his big balls collided against her smooth upper thighs.

Having skewered her, he paused, delighting in the feel of her penetrated anus fluttering frantically about his invading organ. It would do her no good, this last-ditch effort at defiance, but he would enjoy the sensations of the quivering, squeezing sphincter until, at last, the trembling stopped.

It did, too, of course, in relatively short order, as, relaxing, her anus opened, accepting the inevitability of his presence within her bottom, and he drew his hips well back, watching his magnificent Black cock slide back through the impaled opening into her bowels, inch after inch of its huge thickness coming into view between her satiny white buttocks.

Again, the stark contrast of his ebony cock against her snowy bottom caused a sense of godlike power to swell within him, and his monstrous member bulged even more.

Watching the coal-Black shaft slither back through the circle of her gaping anus, entering her depths again, filling her white-pink bottom, made Clinton groan. He pressed harder, driving his cock another fraction of an inch, to fill her white ass as completely as possible with his dark meat, and her soft moan brought a diabolical smirk to his handsome face. The bitch had no idea what was in store for her, he told himself, no idea at all.

Of course, as a call girl who insisted on twelve inches, minimum, before she'd agree to a "date," Tiffany knew all too well exactly what she could expect from taking a gargantuan prick up her ass; she'd been fucked in the ass innumerable times, with cocks even larger than Clinton's dick, immensely enjoying each time she'd been brutally ravished by such a gigantic member. There was more than a little of the masochist in her, and she delighted in being humiliated and dominated as much as men like Clinton enjoyed humiliating and dominating her.

Big and Black and powerful as panthers, such men were, nevertheless, despite the Civil Rights Act, generations of federal assistance, and the preferential treatment that decades of racial quotas, reverse discrimination, affirmative action, or whatever one chose to call bias in favor of "people of color" had provided them, made to suffer from discrimination and racism.

A lot of that suffering was psychological, taking a toll on their sense of self-worth and autonomy, and creating in them rage and a need to take revenge, symbolically, through sex, or actually, through violence and crime. Tiffany kept these ideas to herself. In an age of runaway political correctness, nobody seemed interested in the truth, she'd discovered.

Black men, whose penis size and excellence across the board in athletic competition both clearly demonstrated their physical superiority to white men were, nevertheless, for the most part, dominated and controlled by their inferiors. 

Such a reality, Tiffany thought, had to be humiliating, as did Black men's history of forced servitude. If she could help Clinton and other Black men gain a little of the self-respect they'd lost by screwing her, literally, in the ass and "making" her swallow their cum afterward, she was more than happy to do so--for her hundred-dollar fee, of course.

Although the naïve and the disingenuous alike declared that all was well among races and ethnicities now that Americans had elected their first Black president, nothing was further from the truth, Tiffany knew. A lot of Black men continued to harbor hostility toward whites--hostility that men like Clinton took out on her ass.

Clinton loved the way his big Black cock stretched the white shemale bitch's asshole to huge dimensions. The facts that his ebony member had done so and that he was giving it to a white man-bitch up the ass were extremely exciting. His prick was longer, thicker, and harder than it had been in years.

In fucking white women, he'd gotten used to dominating the inferior race, but, now, in pounding a bitch that was "half and half" (half male and half female, as he thought of transwomen), the novelty had renewed the sense of empowerment that fucking a honky slut had originally given him, and he felt every inch the man as he rammed, jammed, crammed, and slammed his monster cock into Tiffany's gaping anus and deep into her bowels, where she was, at last, as dark as he, her much-vaunted ivory complexion notwithstanding.

Those who pretended that there was no racial--or, indeed, racist--dimension to interracial sex acts in which a big Black buck slammed it to a white bitch, genetic or otherwise, were either naïve as hell, ignorant as hell, or stupid as hell, Clinton thought, or, more likely, they were just damned liars. There was racism involved in a big Black man using his big Black cock to deflower virgin white-girl pussy or to humiliate and dominate her by stuffing her pretty pink face with his manly meat or packing her pearly posterior with his African-American prick.

Clinton preferred redheads or blondes to brunettes, because red and blonde were hair colors exclusive to the Caucasian persuasion. Even if the color came out of a bottle, it was, nevertheless, true that at least some white women had natural red or blonde hair, and, therefore, in Clinton's view, even the brunettes among them who preferred red or blonde locks were entitled, by proxy, to wear these colors. A Black woman with blonde or red hair looked ludicrous, he thought, and, besides, in his view, they were nothing but traitors to their race, lampooning the tightly curled Black hair with which God and nature had decided to bless them.

Best of all was a shaved cunt, he thought, but, if a woman or a tranny felt she had to have some fur down there, for decoration, he preferred it to be blonde or red, too, to match the bitch's coiffure. There was nothing better than driving his prick through a pink pussy housed inside a pubic mound over which grew a neatly clipped strip of red or blonde pubic hair, unless it was fucking an altogether bald beaver.

After he'd delivered fifty or sixty strokes of his massive member into the depths of Tiffany's ass, lunging and plunging harder and faster upon each thrust, Clinton, his cock still buried between the shemale's ass cheeks, rose from his knees, crouching above the kneeling tranny, whose upper body was stretched forth, over the carpeted floor, its weight resting upon her elbows, her tits not dangling, like a cow's udders from her chest, as natural breasts did, but retaining their tight, firm, round appearance, even in the position that Tiffany, at his command, had adopted, and, in this newly adopted attitude, he delivered even longer, deeper, more forceful thrusts into her derriere, as if his cock were a sword with which he was repeatedly stabbing his victim, as fast and as furiously as he could do so.

Under him, Tiffany, wracked by his plunging strokes into her ravaged behind, moaned and gasped and grunted, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. The immense member seemed about to split her in two at any moment, and her own cock, rigid and thick, but only half the length as the one that tormented her bottom, waved and wiggled, jumped and jiggled, as she was pounded relentlessly and passionately from above and behind, the great Black cock filling and vacating her bowels with urgent speed and careless, sadistic force.

Each slam of his prick through her anus and into her bowels drove her forward upon her elbows and knees, her body settling back again, into its original position for a moment, as he withdrew, only to be pounded again--and again and again--as he renewed his assault, her buttocks flattening before his powerful, penetrating lunges and bouncing back to fullness with his every momentary retreat.

Again, she felt his massive member slide through her anus, past its relaxed, wide-open sphincter, and deep into her rectum. This time, his groin pressed so firmly into the cushions of her buttocks that she could feel the raspy coils of his pubic hair against her sleek bottom. He held his ground, grinding himself against her, so that every inch of his enormous cock was buried inside her bowels to the uttermost fraction of the last inch.

After occupying her for a minute or more, Clinton slowly allowed his erection to slide back through Tiffany's impaled anus, an inch at a time, until, at last, the complete member, in all its magnificence, was visible and he could look down, not merely at, but several inches into, the pink-walled interior of the shemale's gaping anus.

Her hugely dilated asshole was proof to Clinton of his superiority to the honky shemale bitch. Wide enough for him to insert his whole damned fist into, if he'd wanted to do so, her anus demonstrated his better, finer nature and his dominant disposition. Anyone who'd willingly take a cock up the ass the way this bitch had done showed him- or herself to be beyond contempt, Clinton thought.

He wasn't the only one to think so, either. Mexican men--the macho among them, at least--saw no shame in fucking another man; the shame was in being fucked by another of one's own sex; such a man was less than a man; he was a woman, despite his male genitals. The ancient Greeks had held the same view of the matter. A sodomite was all well and good, but a catamite was contemptuous and vile. Prisoners agreed, accounting the active, penetrative man as a man, but the passive, penetrated dude as a punk, pure and simple, who was to be accorded no respect or consideration except as a piece of ass to be fucked, shared, and pimped.

A shemale, like Tiffany, was in the same category. Despite her cock and balls, she was just a bitch; in fact, since she took money in exchange for sex, she was no better than a common prostitute, or whore. Calling herself a "call girl" didn't change her status in the least.

"Git on yo' knees, bitch," he ordered the white whore. "I'm goan make you eat yo' own shit while I fuck yo' white trash face."

Again, Tiffany, obeying her john's orders, repressed a smile at the obviously affected ghetto dialect. Judging by the handsome suit Clinton had been wearing when he'd arrived--Armani, unless she missed her guess--and the Rolex watch he still wore on his right wrist, Clinton was anything but a street thug. If he'd been born in the projects and raised in the 'hood, which, she believed, was unlikely, he'd come a long way since those days--outwardly, at least.

"You bedder be able to deep throat a cock, bitch, cuz, if you kaint, you goan choke to death on dis monster muvvafuckah."

He'd stood as she'd turned, still on her knees, to face him, and, now, he stepped close to her, his rigid cock touching her lips. "Goan, bitch, and suck my man-thing."

"Man-thing"? Again, Tiffany suppressed the urge to giggle. Instead, she obediently opened her mouth and plunged her open jaws over and down the enormous erection, as far as she could. Relaxing her gag reflex, she opened her throat, and was able, with some difficulty, to take every inch of his foot-long penis down her throat. His big balls, smelling faintly musky, but by no means unpleasant, pressed against her chin, and her forehead rested against his lower belly, her face, like her throat, entirely stuffed with his cock.

The sight of her blonde tresses, her blue eyes, her pink-white flesh, her rosy cheeks, and her cherry lips around the base of his monstrous Black prick enflamed the race-based passion within him, and Clinton, withdrawing all but three or four inches of his massive manhood, shoved another couple of inches into the shemale bitch's face, grinning as her baby blues bulged in her face and she looked terrified at the thought that, despite her skills as a deep throat artist, she might be choked to death. She gagged, drool issuing from between her round, stretched lips. His cock glistened with the fluid, exciting him further.

"How dat Black cock taste, honky shemale whore?" he demanded.

She murmured, as best she could, around the prick stuffing her face.

He slid his cock free of her lips, and she inhaled deeply, desperately.

Clinton laughed at her distress. "A man's cock too much for you white bitches," he declared, laughing again. "Well, come on, whore, suck my cock; I ain't paid you to practice no damned breathing exercises. This ain't no yoga class."

Tiffany was skilled in the art of cock sucking. Even Clinton, grudgingly, and to himself alone, had to admit. She was better than most of her kind--or any other kind--of woman, better, even, than most of the Black women he'd dated. But he had a huge monster of a cock, and she struggled to get the girth of the fucker into her mouth and, once having done so, to keep it there.

Still, he was so excited at humiliating a white half and half that Clinton was unable to endure the call girl's attentions for long, and, within a few minutes of her expert oral service, he felt the irresistible surge of orgasm flash through him like a flood or a wildfire, and, his massive manhood quivering and lurching, straining and convulsing, inside the warm-soft-wetness of Tiffany's mouth, he was delirious with bliss as load after thick, warm, salty stream of semen launched itself from his balls, erupting over the whore's teeth, tongue, and palate.

Involuntarily, Tiffany swallowed frantically, as the spills of sperm continued to come in volley after volley.

Clinton recovered his wits long enough to yank his cock from her mouth and spray her face with the last blasts of his thick, warm, white semen, and he took delight in the sight of his viscid seed coating the pink flesh of the shemale's Caucasian countenance. Like a brand, the semen marked the white bitch as one who had been possessed by a powerful, virile Black man, demonstrating, once again, to Clinton's mind, his dominance, his superiority, and his mastery.




Clinton's Rule



I walked up to the bar, sat down and ordered a beer. My wife was out of town for the weekend on business and I saw no need to rush home to an empty house. The bartender brought me my beer. I turned it up and took a large drink. I noticed that there was an ACC game on the television behind the bar. I thought to myself, Corona and a Duke Basketball game. Now, this is my idea of a relaxing evening. Being married and my eyes transfixed on the game, I didn’t notice the lady who had walked up beside me.

“Mind if I sit down?”

“No, I don’t, not at all.”

Wow! She was really attractive! She had long blonde hair that was pulled back in a pony tail, bright red lipstick on big beautiful lips, luscious green eyes and a very nice figure. She was wearing a knee length leather mini skirt, a nice sweater, dark stockings and a nice pair of heels. If I was single, I would be all over this lady!

Duke fell short on an important three pointer and was trailing by two points.

“Damn! Come on guys get it together!” I blurted out.

“Ahh, you’re a Duke fan, I see.”

“Yes ma’am. No one coaches like Mike K. Are you a Duke fan?” I inquired.

“No, I’m not into basketball but I’ve dated people who were. So, I know who Coach K is.”

I would never cheat on my wife, but I was definitely aroused by this woman. Just then she removed a pack of Virginia Slims 120’s and a lighter from her purse. Being the smoking fetisher that I am, I was becoming very aroused. Trying not to be so obvious, I watched her as she pulled one of the long white cigarettes from the pack and placed it to her lips. I immediately grabbed her lighter and lit her cigarette for her.

“I’m sorry, but I should have asked you first if you mind if I smoke.”

“Oh no, I don’t mind at all.” I quickly replied.

She took a long slow drag and exhaled her smoke. God, she was gorgeous! If she only knew how much I didn’t mind if she smoked.

“My name’s Carla. And you are?”

“Uh, I’m Michael, but everyone call’s me Mike.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you Michael.”

The evening progressed. I talked about my wife and her job. Carla talked about her job and the downfalls of being single. Duke won the basketball game, of course. We finished up our fourth beers and I paid the tab.

“Well Carla I’ve enjoyed your company, but I guess I need to call it an evening.”

“Michael, I hate to be a bother, but do you mind giving me a ride home? I think I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“No I don’t mind. I’m glad to help a friend in need” I answered.

We walked out to the parking lot. She walked over to her car and made sure it was locked. I guided her toward the Jetta and opened her door and she climbed in. I walked around to my side and got in and started the engine. She opened her purse and pulled out her cigarettes.

“Do you mind?”

“Oh no, please, you go right ahead” I replied.

I watched as she placed the cigarette to her lips and lit her lighter. She placed the flame to the end and took a good long inhale as she lit it up. She opened her window slightly and exhaled her smoke.

“Damn I love to smoke.” She said with a smile.

“And I love to watch you smoke!” Damn! I can’t believe I said that out loud.

She smiled a wicked smile and took another long inhale. This time she had turned so that I could get a good view of her as she exhaled. She exhaled slow and seductively. She was good and she knew that she was. We arrived at her house and I pulled up into the driveway. She got out, took one last drag on her cigarette and crushed it out with her shoe. She stuck her head back in the car.

“Why don’t you come in for a night cap?”

“Uh, just a night cap, right? I’m married and couldn’t sleep around on my wife.”

“That’s fine Michael. Let’s go inside.”

I turned off the engine and followed her inside. It was a nice modest house. It was very clean and just the right size for one person. Her living room had a couple of lazy boys and a love seat. Her entertainment center was nicely equipped but not too expensive. I immediately sat down in one of the lazy boys. She headed for the kitchen.

“Bud Light, ok?”

“Yes, that will be fine.” I answered.

One Beer Mike ol’ boy and then you better high tail it out of here. I thought to myself. Carla returned with the beer. She sat down on the love seat and immediately lit up another cigarette. She smiled at me.

“So how long have you had your smoking fetish, Michael?”

“As long as I can remember, Women who smoke have always made me really horny. I’ve tried to suppress the feelings, especially since my wife doesn’t smoke. She tries to indulge me sometimes, but she doesn’t inhale and one cigarette is her limit.”

Carla smiled. She took a long slow inhale and exhaled the smoke right at me. She got up and said that she would be right back. I was really feeling anxious now. What was I doing here? Was my fetish really about to make me cheat on Lynn? No matter what, I had made up my mind not to fuck Carla, no matter how turned on I became.

Carla returned to the living room. She was still wearing her mini skirt. She had removed her stockings and shoes and slipped on some nice black knee high boots with a nice 2” heel. She was also wearing a black bra and black leather gloves that went up her arm about half way to her elbow. She pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it up. She exhaled the smoke right at me and placed her right boot on the left arm of the lazy boy.

“So tell me Michael, is your dick nice and hard?”

She was so fucking hot! My dick was about to explode. I could feel my boxers getting soaked with pre-cum jizz. I nervously answered.

“Yes, but…”

She placed her left hand over my mouth and raised her right hand to take another drag off of her cigarette. She exhaled right on me and said.

“Remove your pants and underwear, so you can touch yourself. You know that your cock needs some attention right now!”

I couldn’t believe what was happening! Here I was a happily married man removing my pants for another woman! I was so horny, that I was practically cumming from the smell of her cigarette and the feel of her leather. She walked to the kitchen and returned with a chair. She placed it right in front of me. She sat down and placed her boots on either side of the lazy boy. She raised her skirt and I could plainly see her shaved pussy glistening in the night. She had to be just as horny as I was.

“Take your cock in your hand and stroke it for me, while I play with my pussy and enjoy my cigarette.”

“Yes ma’am”, was all that I could utter.

My dick is nothing to brag about at 6 ½ inches and about a 2” diameter, but it’s mine and I sure know how to use it. I began stroking it slow and firm as I watched her. She raised her right hand to her mouth to take a nice drag on her cigarette. She took her left hand and squeezed her clit and ran her fingers up and down her pussy. In between inhales, she would take her nipple between her fingers and squeeze it as hard as she could. She brought her left hand to her mouth and she licked her juices off until there was none left. She then returned to her pussy and began to work it harder. She stopped and put her cigarette out. She took out another and lit it up. She began to finger fuck herself. She placed the cigarette in her mouth so that she could really give her breast the attention that they deserved. Her moans grew louder and harder and she reached her climax.

“Yes! Oh God! Yes, Yes, Yes!!!!!” she screamed out in delight.

She took her right hand and removed her cigarette from her mouth so that she could dump the long ash. She took her left hand still dripping with her juices and began to masturbate my dick. The instant the slippery leather glove touched my dick I was ready to explode! She took a long drag off of her cigarette and leaned down to slowly exhale the smoke over the head of my cock. She then placed it in her mouth and slowly took her mouth down the full length of my shaft. Using the gloved hand holding the cigarette to jack me off and her mouth all over the head of my dick, I exploded my load into her mouth! She swallowed it all down and licked my shaft clean.

She got up and put out her cigarette and lit up another one.

“Well, Michael, did you enjoy that?”

“That would be the fucking understatement of the year!”

She smiled. I got up and cleaned myself up. I sat down and finished my beer. We had some small talk then I said that I had to be going. She gave me a small kiss on the cheek and thanked me for an interesting evening. I told her, no it is I who should be thanking you. She walked me to the door and said goodnight.

I got in the Jetta and started the engine. I immediately debated if I should tell Lynn or not. Hmmm, I thought. Some things are better left unsaid. Besides according to the Clinton Rule, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman!”…

The End