Chapter 12

******

Time moved on - it always does. Bart met a farm gal whose pa owned a cattle ranch a few miles from their farm.  Her name was Bonnie Sue and she had a sister (not too attractive) named Linda Sue.

“I’m goin to the dance at the grange Saturday night with Bonnie Sue,” Bart told his brother Colt.

“Swell, enjoy yourself.”

“I’ve got a favor to ask you,” continued Bart.

“Oh, no, no, I ain’t going to the Grange dance with Linda Sue. Don’t be pushing that calf off on to me. You know I am a homo,” spouted Colt.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know it.”

“Not doin it”

“Not even for your brother, who loves you? Awe, c’mon, it won’t kill you and it will make her happy. She’s, not so bad and she can dance.”

Colt was silent – not answering.

“Well?” mumbled Bart.” Remember, we’re a team!”

“I ain’t kissin anybody and she better not touch my pecker.” slurred Colt.

“Linda Sue is a farm gal not a whore. She has no interest in your little dingy.”

“It’s not little, you of all people, should know that.”

“I reckon so – Nebraskan bred farm boy. Of course I know that, you idiot.”

Saturday rolled around and the boys went to the Grange with their dates.  It turned out that Colt had a better time dancing with Linda Sue than Bart did with the attractive sister, Bonnie.

Linda Sue was fun to be around and actually quite pretty, If Colt had been straight, they would have made an attractive couple, However, it just wasn’t in the cards.

There is no accounting for a man’s interest in another man. For Colt, there were some dreams that he didn’t care to wake up from.

*****

That evening Bart and Colt sat on the stoop talking. The sky was darted with a trillion stars looking like candles in the sky.

“You like him! – don’t you?”

“Like who? Geese yup, I guess I do.” admitted Colt.

“Wanna talk about it?” asked Bart.

“Sure, but when I get ready,” replied Colt.

“Got it, the only way to live, is to talk about it. I understand, as well as, you understand, your feelings…”

Colt understood logic but often he confused logic with being shallow. At least that is how the Reverend Josh Plunket preached at the Sunday church service.

Colt knew, only what he knew, and stopped analyzing every thought. He knew he had feelings both emotional and sexual towards Abe. It wasn’t unusual even for the times, however talking gay, meant one was crazy.  Rumors would spread like wildfire; nobody wanted one to get started.

“You still owe me,” Colt reminded his brother Bart.

“Okay, big feller, what do you want from me?”

“Sex!”

“Oh hell, is that all. You want to stroke it or lick it?”

It’s time for me to come clean. I like cock. I mean, I really like it.”

“Nah, it’s me you liked, sex is part of it. I’ll slide it into you Colt, but if it hurts, tell me and you can stroke it instead.”

“Okay”

“When do you want to do it?” asked Bart.

“Colt didn’t answer, but he swelled, listening to Bart talking about sex, so the answer was obvious.

“C’mon little whore, let’s ride into the country. Bring some jelly I’ll need something slippery.”

They took the buckboard, appearing as if they were going to town. They sat side by side fully aroused and sneaking peeks at one another’s crotch. A game played for years, as they became older, the game became bolder.

Colt was an asset and reeled with masculine flavor. Bart stood for the peeking just so long. He reached over to hold his brothers crotch. His desire for sex overtook him like a monster on patrol.

They knew the area like the back of their hands. Bart took a side road seldom travelled, to a wild location where the ground covered with sand and scrub grass looked comfortable. As kids, they played Doctor there, with their pants down to be away from people.

Moments later, they were on the ground groping one another, until they were naked. Bart was already leaking at the tip.  They wanted sex with no affection. It was animal lust, being together like seasoned whores; Bart entered Colt doggie style, before turning him on his back and plugging him like a woman using, the missionary position. Colt was unbelievably tight and delightfully warm.

Bart unloaded a massive amount, however, not to be outdone; Colt came at the same time.

The ground was hard and the sand was sticking to their legs, so they stood up. Bart wiped himself dry, using his shirt.

He was relaxed now and needed to take a piss. Colt held him while he peed next to a tree.

“Gaud, that was good,” said Bart. “I gotta say it was so tight and warm that my mind lost control and so much better than a sloppy wet whore.”

“You should try it sometime, said Colt.

“You sayin – you wanna do that to me?” mumbled Bart.

“That’s what I’m sayin? I plugged Abe and he liked it. Oh yeah, he liked it a lot. He is a man whore but nobody knows that about him.” confessed Colt.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope –it’s gospel”

“He does have a proud butt. I noticed that,” said Bart. I ain’t no homo, but I do like a firm butt.”

“Maybe Bart, you are part homo.”

“You think?”

“You’re masculine hot, and I know you better than anyone.”

“Sure with you, I’ll do it, but I ain’t into men.” Bart kept repeating.

On the return trip, Bart rode bare chested, holding his shirt in his hand. They were approaching the farm so they stopped talking.

Colt pulled the buckboard straight into the barn and unleased the horses sending them outside into pasture.

Their pa was on the upper range working with Jeb Snyder a nearby rancher. Ma was pickin berries. Nobody realized they had left for fun and games. Their secrets were still safe.

Before supper, both men washed their bodies clean from the brotherly residue that banded them as sluts.

“I can do what Abe can do,” said Bart, walking with Colt towards the house.

“It’s not the same.”

“What d’ya mean? Oh, you mean kissin on the mouth and that tongue shit. Is that what you’re saying to me? Hell no I ain’t doin that homo stuff. Forget about it.

I’m sayin that Abe is more boyfriend and you are more, WELL – my brother.”

******

To be continued……