2 comments/ 7638 views/ 2 favorites Sheep Ranching By: Nigel Debonnaire Judy Pearson brought three eggs over easy, hash browns, toast, and a huge sausage patty from the kitchen and put it in front of me. I looked at the clock: 6 AM in the Sage Diner. "That ought to keep me together till noon," I said turning on my practiced charm. She winked at me. "I hope so, Mr. Davis. If you need a snack you can always drop by if you're still in town." The site of Judy walking away tweaked my interest for a minute, but she went to school with my daughter and I've known her since she was three. Not quite enough to jumpstart my libido. I peppered the hell out of everything on my plate and start digging in. If I was lucky, I'd be through most of this before my meeting started. I was slathering my last two pieces of toast with strawberry jam when my potential partner showed up. She was taller than average, maybe 6 feet, and her body looked strong. Her outfit was similar to mine: checkered Western shirt, worn jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a broad brim hat. As she stretched her hand out, her blue eyes were sincere in their greeting and her smile deep with wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. "You must be Bill Davis." "And you're Betty Sinclair. Welcome to town." She sat down opposite to me, and I lifted my hand to signal Judy for another cup of coffee. "A pleasure to meet you in the flesh. Did you have a good trip from Kansas City?" "Yeah, not bad. Driving across the plains is still boring as hell." "Damn straight. You ready to get back in the saddle again?" "Sure, Bill. 10 years is too long to be cooped up in the city. Good to get back to the mountains. You ready to take your flock to the upper pastures?" "I figure we can be on the trail in a couple of days, just need to get some supplies here in town and get our gear organized. I got two horses for you to choose from, and if you don't like either one I got a couple of buddies who owe me a favor we can visit tomorrow. The dogs all seem to be in good shape, vet checked them out yesterday. Got the flock shorn last week so they're ready." "From what you showed me it looks like you've got a nice flock of Suffolk, my favorite breed. You're also in a part of Wyoming the strip-miners don't have a hard on for yet, so they're not going to screw up your pasturage anytime soon." "That's how you got pushed out, wasn't it?" "Shit, yes. Between the damned strip miners and the damned legislature I got fucked royally. At least I wasn't stupid enough to blow their payout completely in Kansas City. Too bad your boy and your girl can't help you out." "This is Johnny's third deployment, and I don't know where the hell he is. His wife Brenda will go nuts without him, and little Billy doesn't know his dad. Wish the Marines would take better care of their families. The only good thing is they can share housing with my girl Jill and her three little ones. God only knows Jill can't support a family by herself working at McDonald's. Don't know why she had to marry a damned useless idiot who dumped her." Betty took a sip of her coffee. I took a couple of bites of my toast and jam and asked, "You got any kids?" I asked. "Not yet. When guys find out I castrate sheep, they usually aren't interested in a date." "Good thing I'm not looking for a date either. You hungry?" "Nope. Don't eat much in the morning except on the trail. You're doin' the cooking, right?" "Yep. I'm used to taking care of myself. Long as you're not greedy about simple things like body heat on a cold night, we'll probably get along fine." "Yeah." I finished my toast and she sipped her coffee. When I was done I settled at the cash register and we piled into my pickup to head out to the ranch. My great-grandfather staked out a homestead in northern Wyoming just after the Indians left, near a small tributary of the Yellowstone and surrounded by mountains. There was enough grazing in the Valley and feels to grow hay to keep the flocks through winter, and the high pastures were more than enough in the summer. We did pretty well over the years, but lately times have been hard, between the weather and the economy. I've had to cut down the size of my flock twice in the past five years, and rather than do that again I decided to sell half interest in my animals. My kids would've been happy to pitch in, but life led them other directions and they didn't have any money, so I asked Betty if she wanted to make an investment. We met on the Internet, and was lucky to find her. I check her out and she was legit in every way. The deal was pretty simple: she bought in for half with the option of selling it all back in six months if she didn't like the looks of things. She would come and live on the ranch, able to build a small house for herself if she decided to stay. The sheep look ridiculous freshly sheared of their wool, with slight ridges that marked where the clippers traveled. The lambs were close to weaning, so I was eager to get them out and started on fresh grass. Betty checked them over and said, "You need to get your little guys taken care of before we go. They're going to start raising hell before too long when their juices start flowing. We don't need a bunch of horny little rams running around. Better get all their tails docked, too." "Yeah, I know. I got by without calling the vet this lambing season, and it's a damn good thing: I couldn't afford him more than once. He could only stay long enough to check the dogs the other day, says he can probably come by tomorrow and if not we gotta wait until he's free." "Hell's bells, why don't you do it yourself?" "My foreman used to take care of that for me. Chet died last winter, rest his soul. Don't have anybody else to help me." "I could do it in my sleep. Let's get it done now. You got a clean bucket anywhere near?" "I'll get a bowl from the house." "Sounds good." I went to the house to get a big metal mixing bowl. I've seen it done since I was a boy, but it always made me nervous. When I got back, Betty had her work knife out, sharpening it on a stone before squirting disinfectant on it. "Just hold them up facing me by their little back legs, they won't give you no problems. Couple of minutes and it's all done." "Great." We got all my lambs in a little pen, and got to work. Betty could have taught my vet tail docking, between the clamp and the knife the little ewes were scampering back to the flock when we set them down. I picked up the first little ram and she had something added to her task. After taking the tail off, Betty freaked me out by castrating the old-fashioned way: she used her teeth for the final separation. No wonder she never had any gentleman callers. I got brave and asked, "Having fun?" A short laugh escaped her lips and she gave me a look. There was a glimmer in her eye I didn't trust. "What's it taste like?" She stood up and spat. "My uncle Frank used to tell me you had to have a taste for shit to do this. It's not far off." Three hours later we had enough Rocky Mountain oysters to make the little restaurant in town happy. The lambs seemed none the worse for wear without the excess body parts. We inspected our gear and she made friends with my horse Jasmine, who would be her mount for the summer herding season. To call Betty attractive would be a stretch, but I wasn't looking for a date. Her face was pretty plain, and she had a long, thin scar on her nose. I'm a grizzled middle aged man, tough as leather and wiry, no magazine cover myself. It was clear she loved sheep ranching as much as I did, and if the summer went well I'd have a partner who would keep me in the business. The ride out to the pastures went smoothly, and Betty handled the dogs and the flock as well as I did. I drove enough supplies out in my pickup to keep this up there for the relatively short time the upper pastors were open. There was enough food and other supplies for three months. At the end of a simple track, I'd park it and we would set up camp on a small hillock near the river. If we were lucky, I'd only have to come back for firewood, since kindling is sparse up there. She was also expert at setting up a base camp, helping me pitch a tent and gather firewood. We got the fire going quickly, and were ready for summer in the mountains. We were sitting under a starry sky that moonless first night, with the mountains looming darkly all around. The sheep were settling down and the dogs played with us for a while before settling down for their slumber. "It feels like I never left," Betty said. "It feels like I never lived in Kansas City. When you're out here it feels like you've always been out here and always will be." "What did you do in Kansas City?" "Worked as a nurse in a fancy retirement home. Regular hours, a few emergencies, a few deaths. Everybody was pretty nice, but the pay was pretty crappy. I could barely meet my expenses. You?" "Oh I've been to cities. High school class trip to Denver. Did a hitch in the Army in Germany." "Wow, they've got some mountains over there, don't they?" "Oh yeah, I used to like to spend my leave in the Black Forest and down by the Austrian border. Even went to Berchtesgaden once. Such a beautiful place for such shitty people. Been to Cheyenne a few times, checking out the kids. That's where my grandkids live." "I haven't been around a lot of small children. What's it like, being Grandpa?" I looked aside so she couldn't see my eyes tear up. "I love this country, I love the mountains with all my heart. It's harder to leave them kids. When I'm gone, I always count the days till I can see them again." There was a long, awkward silence, and I sipped a tin cup of water. Betty sat on a blanket her legs pulled up, her arms draped over her knees. Her long black curly hair was loose and went down her back past her shoulder blades. Before long, I crawled into my sleeping bag inside the tent. She wasn't far behind me. The animals woke us up before dawn. I got the fire going again and we made coffee. There is nothing like beef jerky for breakfast. We moved the flock part way up the mountain and kept a sharp eye out for wolves, clutching our rifles close. There were a couple of hints of movement in the distance, but nothing definite. Betty shot a rabbit in the late afternoon, so we had fresh meat for dinner. A couple of days later, I had to run back to the ranch on a rainy morning because there was less firewood in the area than I expected. Coming back, I heard my dogs barking their heads off in the distance just as I was getting ready to unload the truckbed. So I grabbed my rifle and leaped on my horse Jess, galloping fast to see what was up. When I could see over the hill I noticed Betty with her gun pointed at two young men who aimed rifles back at her. The dogs were between them, growling with their hackles raised, and the sheep were spread out behind them, uneasy. All were sitting on horses, so I maneuvered to flank the strangers and stayed down below the ridge. As I got closer, I heard Betty say: "Shit, I don't care if I only get one of you, you ain't making off with my sheep. If you're gonna shoot me, just try." I recognized the boys, two assholes my boy went to school with. One was trying to reason with her: "Look ma'am, these aren't your sheep, they belong to Bill Davis and he owes us. Just ride away and everything'll be fine. Insurance will cover the investment, you'll get your money back, and you can go back to the city no worse for wear. Please ma'am, don't make us hurt you." Two quick squeezes of my trigger and the boys were rolling on the ground in pain. Betty barked a command to keep the dogs from pouncing on them, and hopped down to kick their dropped weapons out of reach. I rode up quickly, dismounting to kick each one in the ass cheek I'd plugged them in, then looked at Betty: "You OK?" She looked at me and smiled, relieved. "Yeah. Thanks for the help." "Anytime. I'll cover them while you call the sheriff." Turning around, I saw the boys on the ground were still lost in their misery. "Morning, boys. Logan Tracy and Harry Harris, what the fuck are you doin' out here? Actually I know, just wondered when you'd get tired of pulling shit in town. Who's back at the truck, Stacy Billis? Maybe that Freitag girl who hangs around with you all the time, hoping one of you will throw her a bone? Well, you can tell your story to the sheriff, and if I ever catch you shitheads out here again, I won't be nice enough just to shoot you in the ass and call the law. You just lie there until the chopper gets here." It took the sheriff's chopper 20 minutes to arrive, and by then the fools were back on their feet, glaring at me. The sheriff ducked as he got out, and walked up to Betty and I. "Mornin' Bill. Hear you had a little trouble?" "Yeah, couple of trespassers trying some sheepnapping. You see their truck out there anywhere?" "Yeah, other side of the next mountain. Freitag girl won't make it back to the main road before Floyd gets her." He tipped his hat when he saw Betty. "Pardon me, ma'am, my name is Jeff Kinder, I'm the sheriff. Me and Bill go way back. I go back a ways with these boys, too. Logan, Harry, fancy meetin' you boys out here. Looks like you both got shot in the ass." "Probably shot each other," Betty said, her lip curled. "Saved me some ammo." Jeff laughed and put the idiots in handcuffs. "This time you get a chopper ride, guys. Hope it's not too uncomfortable, those back seats don't have much padding. Sorry about that." They glared and snarled a little, and winced out loud as they were forced into the flying machine. "You wanna press charges, Bill?" I nodded. "I'll send you the .pdf form so you don't have to come back into town and fill it out in my office. Send it back electronically, and we'll get things moving." "Thanks, Jeff." The bird took off and the dogs relaxed. "Thank you, Betty. Sorry you had to run into those bums." "Shit, I seen critters like this before. Heard 'em coming a mile off, and the dogs didn't like 'em. Didn't buy their line for one second." We held our hats while the helicopter took off and things returned to normal. Out of the blue, she said, "Nice shooting." "Thanks." "What's your range?" "I can put a bullet in a coyote's eyeball at a thousand yards, standing still." "Not bad. How long you known these assholes?" "Since they was in diapers. Tried to push Johnny and Jill around till somebody beat the crap out of them. Been making trouble since High School, got a record already. They won't be out on bail soon." "Good. Thanks for the backup." "Anytime." The rest of the week passed fairly quietly: we made small talk and revised our strategy, going for the more remote pastures, keeping a closer eye out for predators and other trespassers. The dogs did beautifully and we gave them all our affection. Saturday came and when I woke up my body told me it was time to go down to the river and scrape some grime from my tough old skin. The water was cold, fresh snow melt from the mountains, and it felt good to get cleaned up. A fresh shave helped as well. I was washing my hair when another horse came up. "How's the water?" Betty asked me from the saddle. "It'll wake your ass up, no question." She laughed and dismounted, pulling a small pouch out of her saddlebags. Unconcerned about modesty, she stripped down quickly and waded in, shivering initially. I stayed where I was, with water up to my waist. Like I said, Betty was rather ordinary by any stretch of the imagination, but the sight of that much skin and nice floppy tits got my attention and produced the standard reaction. It wasn't long before she was soaped from head to toe, the suds glistening in the morning light. Her breasts jiggled as she washed her hair and I wondered if I could beat off under the water without her noticing. I wasn't brave enough to try that. A quick dive, and she came up all wet, her nipples standing up hard. Shaking her head, she looked at me. "You haven't moved for a while, Bill." "Yeah. A bit distracted." She smiled sweetly. "Thanks." I waited a little, and continued, "You're welcome. First time in a long time. Don't be offended if I point this thing at you." Taking a breath, I waded toward the shore, the water only up to my knees. The water glistening off her skin, pearly white except for her neck, face, arms, and hands, kept me hard. "No pressure. Would you be..." "...interested? I'm not a virgin, but don't remember the last time somebody I liked pointed something like that at me." She bit her lip and played with the end of her wet hair. "Could be..." "...interested." There was a gleam in her eye, and a slight smile on her face. I moved toward her and touched her shoulders lightly. She quivered and looked down before looking up again. I rubbed her upper arms and slid down to her breasts. A big sigh escaped her lips as my thumbs orbited her small nipples. My cock started pulsing, and I pulled her close quickly, kissing her hard and making as much contact with her skin as my body would allow. Her tongue found my mouth as her hand found my pecker. Something in the back of my mind screamed danger, remembering what she did to the young rams, but that turned me on even more. I wormed my hand between her legs and found her unique wetness, playing with the folds until I discovered where the bud was. My middle finger slipped in and she gasped, "My God, this feels so good. More." "You're a dangerous woman, Betty. I like danger." "Not too much, sweetheart. Can't be makin' babies, tough enough takin' care of myself as it is." I added my third and fourth fingers, and that seemed to take her up a notch. My hand was certainly a bit rough even though it was in the water a long time, but she didn't care. Her hand stroked me again and again, her wet skin a bit tough as well, and she flattened it to cup my balls, making them tingle. I pumped my hand, and she bucked against it wanting more. All four fingers went in, my thumb working her clitoris, and her head went back with her eyes rolled up. Her screams echoed from the mountains, frightening the flock and making the dogs bark in the distance. Her free hand grabbed my wrist, holding it in place while her body shuddered, keeping my hand buried there in an iron grip. The hand on my sack tightened a little too much, but not enough to make me go soft. Her head came down to rest my shoulder as she panted in recovery. "Damn," she said softly. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. Where the hell did you learn how to do that?" "I was married for 25 years and I believed in giving the love of my life what she wanted." Her blue eyes gazed deep into mine, slight tears creeping from the corners. She was speechless, and took a couple of deep breaths as she released the source of her pleasure. "What ever you want Bill, anything. Anything at all." "Lick my balls." "Really?" "Really, really." Her eyes opened wide. "Damn, you like to live dangerously. I might forget." "You might. But you probably want me to do this again," I said, slipping my fingers easily back into her chute. She gasped and shuttered. "There's a big rock over here I can lean against." Her eyes opened wide again, and then she smiled playfully. I brought her over to a huge boulder at the edge of the water and leaned against it, bending back slightly, my cock bouncing in anticipation. She knelt on the sandy bottom and started licking my thigh as she stroked me again. Before long, her tongue was all over my nuts, making them quiver with delight. Then she sucked one of them into her mouth, the sharp cave of testicle destruction. Her tongue played all around as she sucked it, teasing it with her teeth as she stroked my cock hard, drawing wet liquid anticipation. Then she went to the other one, acting as if she were going to bite it off while jerking me. Then she let my nut go, and returned to giving both of them the best tongue bath they ever had. It wasn't long until thick, ropey strands of my white goo spattered her shoulder and back, a few drops shooting out into the languid mountain stream. Sheep Ranching Ch. 02 White-out conditions are never fun. We get late March blizzards in Wyoming, but this was into its third day. The forecast said it would break around midnight, but the animals didn't know that, so I had to make my way to the barn and look in on them. Fortunately, I'd strung a wire from the house to the barn so I could get there without getting lost. I know two other sheep ranchers who died in the snow because they couldn't find their way to or from the barn in a white-out. It wasn't fun, running my gloved hand along the wire as I trudged while carrying my pack over my right shoulder, my face in a mask pulled down and a scarf around my neck. With the parka, overalls, and snow boots, I was warm enough but the driving snow stung my eyes. Betty offered to take a turn, but I'm not letting anyone go out in my place to do the chores in bad weather there unless I'm flat on my back and sicker than a dog. God knows, the woman could do anything I can. Hell, on Christmas she rolled naked in the snow for two straight minutes on a dare. Course, it meant I had to hold her close half the night as she shivered, but I didn't mind that. Finally I got to the barn, got the door open and went in to take a look around. The sheep were all huddled together, baaing loudly to see me, and I had to warm up before I fed them. You have to sprint to pour out a trough of feed for them or the damn things will knock you over trying to get at it. Getting trampled is no fun. I looked I on the horses, who were happy to see me as well. I fed them first, stroking them a little as they greeted me individually. Their situation was good, so I filled a 5 gallon bucket of grain from the feed storage for the flock. Taking a deep breath, I made a break for it, running at top speed while pouring the grain out, while the surge of four legged wool came after me. Who says I don't get any exercise? I beat them to the end of the feeding trough and was able to stop. Sauntering back, I filled another bucket and did another sprint down the trough on the other side, and all was good. Their water wasn't frozen, and the thermometer indicated the place was comfortably above freezing. Nothing needed maintenance, so I waded back through the snow to the house, making a detour once I got there to check the generator shed. We might be able to live without it, God knows my great-grandfather did without when he first settled here, but it was better to make sure it was in good shape. It was, and there was plenty of gas in the reserve tank to last until the roads were open again. Time to settle in. Betty was at the stove when I came in. She did about two things well there: the classic breakfast combo of bacon and eggs, and variations on lamb stew. I did everything else in the kitchen, and she did everything else in the house. The place was comfortably tidy without being obsessive about it. My house is a one level ranch house with three bedrooms, and I keep it pretty tight to keep in the heat. The furnace mainly keeps the pipes from freezing, and we spend most of our time in the main room in front of the fire in the winter time, even sleep in front of it. "Make sure and take off your boots," she said as the door closed. "You forget and track ice all over the damn place too often." "Yes, mother," I replied in a caustic tone. "You want me to wash my hands before dinner?" "And your mind. A horny guy like you probably thinks being snowed in with a girl means you can have your way with her day and night." I felt a tingle with those words: that was Betty's way of coming on. Sure, we don't have a warm and fuzzy relationship other than spooning on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, but we've settled into something special. Hell, meeting her last summer was one of the best things that happened to me for a couple of decades. "Well, you wear a hot outfit like that, a guy can't help himself. Almost ready to bust my fly thinking about tapping that ass." Betty was wearing a rather formless nightgown under a housecoat, with fuzzy pink slippers, and no makeup. She was growing her hair out, and the black locks hung to her shoulders. In a month of so, she'd cut it short before we went out to the high pastures. She was tall and strong, not terribly skinny nor really fat. Her ass was big, but not as big as the mountains. However, I did want to tap her ass sometime soon. She turned to bat her eyes at me extravagantly. "Just remember castration season might start before spring gets here." I laughed at her. "How soon on the food?" "Let's give it about thirty minutes, maybe forty five. Should be edible by then." "Great. I'll do a pan of cornbread, put together a salad." "I'll take a bath. That'll give you time to check the news and farm prices online. Just don't surf the damn porn sites and get any more stupid ideas I'll have to say 'no' to, Bill Davis." Getting stone ground cornmeal, flour, baking soda and power, and buttermilk together with salt and pepper in a bowl was no big problem; I don't know why anybody uses a mix for this. The oven was already warm because Betty was reading my mind again. After putting the pan in, putting the salad together was pretty easy as well, although we do use a salad spinner on my ranch. We're not without a few luxuries. The snow was still coming down pretty good, and we'd probably have to spend the afternoon shoveling it off the roof. The house is pretty sturdy, however I don't like to take chances. We started yesterday with that wonderful task, and it took the rest of the day for us to recover. Hell, we aren't spring chickens. Soaking in the hot bathtub together afterward was pretty nice even though we weren't up for any more exercise. A check online showed everything was reasonable. We'd made enough profit this past year to make a couple of safe investments that weren't destroying the earth or robbing the Third World very much, and they were producing as expected. Sheep prices were all right, and the outlook was good. The weather radar indicated the snow was tapering off and would be gone soon. The only bad news was an email from my son Johnny telling me he'd have to sign up for another tour overseas. There were adorable grandchildren pictures on Facebook, and I liked them all as a good grandpa should. She came out in green sweats and barefoot. That woman could take the cold like no one I'd ever met. "Well, are we broke yet?" "Nope. Got a couple of new ideas, though. Want to hang you upside down from the ceiling with your legs spread and sodomize you with a baseball bat. Game?" "Damn, do we have a baseball bat around here? You are such a romantic." She gave me a peck on the cheek and bit my ear lightly. "Dinner ready?" "Yeah, let's do it." Everything was good, and we listened to the Saturday Metropolitan Opera broadcast as we ate. It was French and pretty agreeable; at least they weren't doing Wagner. Betty was lost in thought and didn't say much, and I wasn't talkative either. I thought about the past year, and still couldn't believe it. She was as good a sheep rancher as I was, and once I got to know her, the most fantastic woman I'd come across in years. It thought I'd live like a monk in my old age, but it didn't seem so. She told me she loved me and we were soulmates. I agreed. After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes and I went outside to look at the roof. We weren't going to have to clear it after all, which made me happy. I stepped out of my shoes, took off my outwear and crossed to my bedroom to get into my pajamas. Hell, we weren't going to be entertaining anybody except each other the rest of that day. Betty was lying in front of the fire on the bearskin rug. "Guess the snow's letting up since you're in your jammies." "Yeah, it'll be light the rest of the day but we'll be fine for now. Everything's fed and watered, so I'm free the rest of the day." "Good." She stretched out in from of the fire and patted the rug behind her. The opera was still going on, and I threw another log on the fire before settling in behind her. My hand went around her waist and found her nipple. Milking it gently, I made her shiver and snuggle her butt back against me, which made my dick reach out and probe her ass. Life was good. I milked her nipple harder and she purred. After a while she murmured, "Better get that pump primed, I'm gonna need it in a few months." "Oh?" "Got the test results back from the Doctor today. Confirmed. Company coming." "Oh. When?" "A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving." I held her closer and leaned over her shoulder blade, putting my face next to hers. "You want to get married?" I asked. "Don't matter to me. If we were about twenty years younger, sure, but I don't think anybody cares about it anymore." "Yeah. Our folks are all dead and my kids won't care. We're partners anyway, and all we need do is make a few adjustments in our paperwork 'bout who gets what when we die." "Sounds good. Simpler is better." The opera reached its climax, and we listened to it. When the applause started, I switched it off and went back to lay behind her. As I cuddled up to her again, she said, "Knew I should have bit your balls off when I had the chance." I smacked her butt hard, almost loud enough to shake the snow off the roof. "Too bad I can't put my brand on you since you've just become breeding stock." Shaking her head and turning toward me, she made a mock frown. "Since when do sheep ranchers use brands?" "Well, you're no sheep, and I can't put a identity clip in your ear. It'd look funny when we went to town." She lay flat on her back and smiled up at me. There was a glow in her face I'd never seen before: it was special. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, "How about a tattoo?" "No thanks, I don't want one." Smacking me on the arm, she gave me a fake look of anger. "No stupid, I know you're too big a weenie to get one. Me, you can tattoo me. I'm not afraid, already got this rose on my chest." It was a sweet picture, just above her left breast, so I knew should could take the needle. "You want to get it when we go to town next?" "No," she said. "I want you to do it, mark me yourself, right on my hip. Put your mark on my ass and I'll always be yours." The thought had a strange appeal. It was a personal way to claim her that would always be there. And I didn't want to imagine a future without her, we were soulmates and I knew we'd never part. "I know I've got your balls forever, and rings are too dangerous for ranchers to wear," she said."This is all I need to remind me I'm yours, always. You're an artist, I'm sure you can come up with something. Get your ink out and do a little of your nice calligraphy for me. I'll get the stuff while you work." I wasn't sure what I was doing, so we found a couple of helpful videos online. It was amazing people were doing their own tattoos the old-fashioned way, and so much information was out there. Wasn't something I wanted done to me, but it didn't seem that crazy anymore. Betty's face was far too serious and I knew she wasn't joking, so I gave in and said I'd do it. She left the room and I went over to my writing desk. I watched the snow a minute out the window and drew an elegant B D on a page. After a few minutes, she came back without her bottoms, with a huge spot of liquid reflecting from her right hip. "Did the sanitization on me and the needle. Let's see what you got." I showed it to her and she gave me a long kiss. "I knew it. Throw another log on the fire and we'll make it so." After throwing a lot more wood on the fire, I went to the bathroom to give my hands a thorough scrub, thinking I was a surgeon. When I got back she was laying on her stomach, her ass wiggling in invitation. I said, "Take your top off, too. It's weird looking at just your butt. I want the whole show, I want full naked submission." "Yes, master," she cackled, sticking her tongue out at me before she pulled off her top. I bent over to repeat my artwork on her flesh. She was extraordinarily still, her flesh aglow in the firelight. The first time the needle went in, she gasped and reached down in search of my cock. I pushed it away; I didn't want to be distracted. There was a little blood, but she had a clean cloth for that, and soon I got into a rhythm. As I worked on her, her breathing got shallow and her hand went to her crotch. I got a good noseful of her nectar. Her body stayed still while her chest heaved and her breathing got erratic. "Did you get off the first time you were tattooed?" I asked. "Nope. I was 17 and stupid. Showed the dude my whole tit in the process. Probably why he gave me a discount. Must be because it's you and me." "Well, don't wiggle your ass so much." It seemed to take forever to get the B done, and I had to stop for a bit to stretch my fingers afterward. I noticed I hadn't put gloves on, but given how often we'd exchanged bodily fluids in the past few months, we probably caught anything the other had by now. Betty's eyes were closed and she slowed down, not wanting to crest too soon. My hand relaxed and I started on the D. It was like tilling a garden during a series of earth tremors, she shuddered from time to time without warning, but I was able to get the ink under the skin while keeping the lines clean in spite of her finger fucking herself. I finished and cleaned her up, her skin shining with disinfectant. "All right, you're mine. Anybody else who see this is gonna think you're into bondage and discipline." "Nobody's gonna see it but you," she said, twisting to look at my work. "Get your clothes off, Bill. Time to work your new property." I stripped to my skin, and gave her a long hard kiss. We'd made love many times on the rug in front of a roaring fire, but today was different. Her fires were already roaring but I wasn't ready quite yet. She looked at me saucily, licked her lips and snarled, "I ought to bite your balls off now." Putting my hand over her mouth, I replied, "No, that's not part of the deal. Besides, we might want more than one. Probably need to give the kid a playmate sometime." "Shit, you make too much sense. I guess if I'm gonna get a good fucking I'm gonna have to lick you hard." Her head went down to my crotch and I lay flat on my back, my cock inflating. Her tongue bathed my balls before she sucked them in, squeezing them a little with her teeth, teasing me before letting them go and taking my cock in her mouth. When I felt ready enough, so I pushed her off, rolled her over and put it in. It was heaven, and her tits rolled around uncontrollably as she pushed back against me as I fucked her. After a few, I pulled her to all fours, "I want to look at my brand as I fuck you." She wiggled her ass at me, the BD I put there big and dark against her firelit skin. I thrust at her; she reached under to guide me in. Another piece of heaven it was for both of us to enjoy. It's a good thing we don't have neighbors, because her screams would have set off earthquake tremor alarms. For the first time in our lovemaking, we orgasmed at the same time. Afterwards we calmed down and laid down to sweat next to each other. She looked me in the eyes and said, "Damn, that was good, Daddy." "Yeah. I'm glad I met ya. Good thing you're already knocked up, or that would have done it." She laughed and we held each other. After a while, I got out my camera and took a picture of her laying on her side, her huge tits resting on the bearskin and the big BD laying at an angle on her huge ass. I made it the backdrop on my laptop. We went through a lot of firewood that afternoon. Sheep Ranching She stood up and we threw our arms around each other, embracing naked in the morning light, our mouths devouring each other's. At last, we went back into the water to wash our love juices off each other, and climbed on the bank to let our skins dry. When we were dry, her eyes lit up, "Shit, you're hard again." I nodded. "Interested? We can take our time this morning, sheep aren't goin' too far without us." This time I laid her on the rock and she spread her legs. I mounted her, delving deeply into her tight wetness, feeling like I was a king. She moaned and rolled her hips underneath me; I think she liked it, too. Soon, a pressure in my groin told me to pull out. She was disappointed when I pulled out, but said, "Thanks, Bill. I was ready to let you go on. You wanna try a 69?" "Sure." I spun around and she took my cock in her mouth, sucking and nibbling playfully as I shoved my tongue as far inside her as I could. Her screams of ecstasy are completely muffled by my pecker, which sent me over the edge and not caring, I force-fed my seed down her throat. The sheep were upset by the time we were ready to let them graze. We were able to get back to business the rest of the day, and didn't cheat them out of much more morning grazing time the rest of the summer. The nights under the stars in the shadow of the mountains were magic. Days blended together, and when the dark clouds started to gather at the end of August, we were both sad to let the mountains go. By the time the first snows fell, Betty was ready to stay at my ranch indefinitely and didn't want to build her own little house next to mine. We were partners in every way.