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Click here"I know," Becky's voice was quiet.
"I don't now quite what to say," Jessi had a million questions zinging through her head at the moment, "What were you thinking?"
Becky took a deep breath, "I was almost asleep and heard something, it was Stan's bed moving, and he was jacking off in the bed next to me."
"Oh my god," Jessi's head was still spinning, "So what happened next?"
"I asked him what he was doing, it made me so hot, I knew what he was doing, but I wanted to hear what he would say," replied Becky.
"Wow," Jessi was spellbound, "Sooo...tell me..."
"I was so hot, I had started to finger myself, I was so turned on, and I told him that it turned me on, that he was jacking off. Then I told him I was fingering my pussy. I couldn't stop, I was just so turned on."
Becky took a deep breath and continued, "He wanted to see my boobs, so I turned the light on over the bed, and took my shirt off, and then I asked if I could see his cock. He was so hard, and his hand was slowly moving up and down. I don't know what came over me, I wanted to feel his cock so bad, and to see it cum."
Jessi could feel her pulse begin to quicken, "My god Becky..."
"I then took the blanket and took it off of me and let him see me rubbing my clit, and fingering myself," Becky paused and took another deep breath, "Then he sat down beside me, and I started to play with his cock, damn, he was so hard. He started to play with my boobs, and then my pussy. When he touched me I thought I was going to explode, I started cumming, and cumming, I just started stroking his cock as fast as I could, and then he came."
"Wow," Jessi shook her head, "What happened after?"
"He looked a little uncomfortable, and he went to the bathroom and went back to his bed," replied Becky.
"How did you feel after?" Jessi asked.
"I felt almost wired, I don't know how to explain it."
"Has Stan said anything to you since you came home?"
"No, it's almost like he is avoiding me," Becky's voice was quiet.
"Ok, I have to ask," Jessi took a breath, she had to know, "Do you feel guilty now?"
"That's the strangest part, I thought for sure that I would, but I don't, not at all. I want to suck him now," Becky answered, "I want to feel him cum in my mouth."
At first Jessi was going to remind Becky that Stan was her brother, but suddenly it came to her, Ryan was her cousin. Granted it was a little different, growing up they hadn't seen much of each other, but in a way, it was still the same.
"Are you sure you want to do that," Jessi finally asked.
"I think so," replied Becky, "Oh damn, mom needs me. I have to go, I'll call you tomorrow. And I want to know what you and your stud have been up to," Becky giggled as she said goodbye.
Jessi slowly removed her clothing, she wanted to take a bath, and she wanted to masturbate right now. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but Becky had turned her on, and watching Ryan jack off earlier had left her horny all day.
About the same time Jessi was talking to Becky a couple sat in a very exclusive restaurant, they had just finished their meal, and were on their second after dinner drink.
Margaret smiled at Roy the dinner had been fabulous. The drinks before dinner, the wine with the meal, and now the drinks after dinner had loosened her up. She felt a warm buzz through her body.
Smiling seductively she looked at her husband, and leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Usually you don't bring me here unless you are really horny. You must want me to suck on your big cock tonight."
For a moment Roy thought about waiting until after sex to tell his wife. As usual, she was right. Normally Roy only brought her here when he was horny, and he had found that after an evening here Margaret was only too willing to take him into her mouth and suck him very slowly until he erupted, spraying the back of her mouth with his cum.
Although Roy could feel himself stiffening, he knew the erection wouldn't be lasting long, he cleared his throat, "Ryan called today."
Margaret had slipped her hand under the table and had started to stroke her husband's growing erection through his pants, "Oh good, and how is he."
Roy was enjoying the attention that his manhood was receiving, and was so tempted to just gloss over the conversation that he had with their son earlier in the day, "He said that he is having a great time."
Margaret was intent on bringing her husband's sex organ to its full erection as she ran her nails along its length through his trousers, "His dad will have even a better time once we leave here."
In his mind he knew all hell was going to break loose, he smiled at his wife, and knew that the promised blowjob was going to disappear very quickly.
"God, I am so horny, I'd love to get down on my knees and suck you under the table," Margaret's voice had gotten husky, "I want to feel your big cock in my mouth so bad right now."
Roy groaned inside, it was almost next to impossible to get his wife to go down on him normally, and he was about to throw it all away, "Ryan says he wants to change his major, and to go into ranching with Bill."
It took several seconds for what her husband had just said to sink through Margaret's lust, and alcohol haze, her hand continued rubbing Roy's cock. Then her face blanched, she sat straight up, her fist came down on the table, "What!"
Roy's prediction was correct, his erection deflated as quickly as it had risen, "Ryan said that he wants to change his major, and to go into partnership on the ranch with Bill."
The lust disappeared from Margaret, as did the alcohol haze, she was stone cold sober, "There is no fucking way, no fucking way in hell that my son is going to be a fucking farmer!" her fist pounded on the table emphasizing each word.
"Rancher," Roy corrected.
"I don't give a good God damn what you call it, rancher, farmer, I have his future planned, and he is not going to fuck this up. He will become an attorney, join the DA's office for a few years, run for city council, and then for the Senate. With my family's connections he can be in the Senate by the time he is forty or forty five, that is his future," Margaret's eyes were burning with rage.
Roy's voice was calm, "What about what Ryan wants?"
"What the fuck does he know about what he wants? He wants what I want him to want, and that is the fucking end of it," Margaret's voice was icy, and Roy could feel the chill.
"He is an adult, and he can make his own choices now, besides, the ranch is half mine, and I plan to sign that half over to him," Roy reminded his wife.
Margaret stood up, "Oh yes, the ranch, the fucking ranch, I tried to get you to sell your half of it several times. If you had done what I told you to do we wouldn't be having this fucking problem now."
Margaret fumed; the ranch had been one of her father's few mistakes in his life. Before Roy and Margaret were married her father had insisted that Roy sign a prenuptial agreement, intent on protecting his daughter's personal wealth, and completely unaware that Roy was half owner in a ranch in Montana. Margaret had been livid with her father when it became known exactly what the ranch was, and how much the land was worth. Over the years she had tried unsuccessfully on several occasions to have her husband liquidate his half of the ranch.
Roy sighed, and followed his wife out of the restaurant, and into the night.
The sun had set when Charlie Red Elk emerged from the sweat lodge. He had fasted for the past two days, eschewing any food or drink, and purifying his body during rituals in the sweat lodge. His arms were painted black from the elbow down, as were his legs, from the knee down, streaks of other colors adorned his face and body. Charlie sat down under a large cottonwood tree, and opened a small pouch.
He began to sing softly as he prepared to light a fire. He used no matches, or lighter, instead he lit the fire in the old manner, using flint, and a steel knife. As he struck the flint against the steel a small spark caught in a small pile of dried grass. Carefully he blew, very gently nurturing the spark; it glowed brightly as his breath blew softly across it. A small piece of grass began to char, then smolder, the spark was still alive, and growing brighter. Finally a small flame flickered; skillfully Charlie added a little more grass, then a few small twigs. The fire came to life licking at the fuel. The twigs became small branches, then to larger branches. The fire began to crackle as the flames grew.
As the fire took hold Charlie picked up a small drum, he began to beat it slowly, almost like a heart beat, his voice rose and fell with the drum, his eyes were closed. For hours Charlie sat drumming, and singing, pausing only to add fuel to the fire.
A few days previous Charlie and his son had gone up to the mountain and stayed the night. Charlie had had a vision on the mountain. It was nothing like anything he had experienced in his sixty-seven years. It had been a powerful vision; he had emerged shaking and unable to speak for almost an hour. He had meditated on the vision for the past two days, and now was seeking meaning to this vision.
Although his eyes were closed he could feel them approach, five riders dressed in the old style. Their horses made no sounds as they rode slowly towards Charlie. Four of the horses stopped at the edge of the light made by the fire, one rider continued, sliding off his horse silently, and stood before Charlie on the other side of the fire.
The rider addressed Charlie, "Hello my brother."
Charlie stood and returned the greeting, the sound of the drum, and the song still echoed in his head. He knew of the Wanagi, but this was his first confrontation with one of them.
"Am I in your world, or are you in mine," Charlie asked.
The rider shook his head, "We are in neither," he pointed down at the fire.
Charlie looked down and was surprised to see himself, still sitting there, singing, and drumming. He looked at the rider, "Will I know that I was here?"
"Yes, you will remember our meeting, now let us smoke the pipe," the rider turned to his horse, and from a bag he retrieved a pipestone pipe. He took a small twist off tobacco and placed into the pipe, with a smoldering stick he lit the tobacco. He did this six times, pointing the pipe to the cardinal points of the compass, the sky, and to the earth. After he was finished he passed the pipe to Charlie who did the same as the rider, putting a small twist of tobacco into the pipe, pointing it, lighting it, inhaling the bitter tobacco smoke, drawing on the pipe each time he pointed it in a new direction.
The two sat down cross-legged by the fire.
Charlie finally spoke, "I had a vision."
The Wanagi nodded as he stared into the fire.
Charlie looked over and watched himself, still singing, and playing the drum. The odd thing he would recall later was that at the time he saw nothing out of the ordinary in this scene.
Charlie continued, "I saw the mountain destroyed, bolts of lightning raining down from the heavens. I saw a wolf, dead, and a buffalo, dead, on what remained of the mountain."
"So what is it you seek from me my brother," the Wanagi asked, his voice like a cold autumn wind.
"I seek meaning," replied Charlie.
The Wanagi nodded, and was silent for what seemed an eternity, "It is Tatanke you seek."
Charlie nodded. "I have been calling for him."
"He will come," the Wanagi replied.
"What of the boy?" Charlie asked.
"The spirit of his great-grandfather lives within him. He has only begun to awaken," came the reply.
The Wanagi, stood, and then climbed back up on his horse, as Charlie rose the Wanagi raised his hand, "Ka dish day."
Charlie raised his hand in return, "Ka dish day"
Charlie watched as the riders silently rode off disappearing into the mists of the night.
All through the night Charlie kept playing his drum and singing, not once changing the beat of the drum, nor did the song he chanted change.
The sky was growing pink in the east when he appeared, Tatanke, the bison.
Suddenly Charlie stopped his chanting, and drumming, his head slowly raised. He had been given what he needed. Meaning. He opened his eyes and pondered on what he had seen. He stood up, and began to walk back to where his house was. His mouth was dry, his lips felt cracked, and he needed some tea. His belly was empty, he needed some food, but his mind was clear, it was now full of the knowledge he had been seeking. He walked with the gait of a much younger man; he had felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders.
Ryan awoke about the same time Charlie was setting off for home. He lay in bed waiting for the cobwebs of sleep to clear. As his mind became focused he was filled with trepidation. He wondered if his dad had told his mother, he knew that it wouldn't have been a pretty sight. Once his mother had her mind set on something it was full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes, and anyone who happened to get in her way.
Finally the urge to urinate forced Ryan from his bed, and to begin the day. As he washed his hands, and face he looked at the face in the mirror. His hair was longer than when he had arrived, his face was darker from the long days in the sun. Staring at the eyes in the mirror he saw something different, there was a confidence in them.
Ryan laughed and addressed the face in the mirror, "Let's see how confident you are when your mother calls you."
He felt better now that he had laughed; he walked back into the bedroom and pulled a clean pair of jeans, and a western style work shirt from the closet. He pulled his jeans on, then his shirt. Ryan reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of socks and walked into the kitchen. He sat down, pulled his socks on, and then reached for his cowboy boots.
Aunt Suzanne was busy cooking breakfast, pancakes, and sausage; she looked out the window and saw Ryan making his way towards the house, "Bill, he's coming."
Bill looked at his wife, "He's going to love this."
Ryan walked into the house, immediately he sensed something was wrong. Well maybe not wrong, but he could sense the tension. He smiled at his aunt, and as always kissed her on the cheek, "Good morning Aunt Suzanne."
Suzanne handed Ryan a cup of coffee, "Good morning Ryan," then looking at her husband, "Bill?"
Uncle Bill looked serious, "Ryan, sit on down, and take a load off your feet."
Ryan sat down, and took his first sip of coffee.
"You dad called last night, around bedtime, and I didn't see the point in spoiling your night's sleep," Uncle Bill began, "Seems your mother didn't take the news of your proposed career choice very well."
Ryan cracked a wry grin, "No, I don't imagine she did."
Uncle Bill nodded, "No, but it gets worse."
Ryan stared at his uncle, "What do you mean."
"They're coming out."
"Here?" Ryan was incredulous, "To the ranch?"
Uncle Bill nodded, "Yup."
"Holy crap," he could scarcely believe that his mother was coming out to the ranch. To his knowledge the only time she had ever been out here was when he was just a baby.
Ryan's head was swimming; things were even worse than he had imagined, "When?"
"Next Thursday," Uncle Bill replied.
A week, a week was all the time he had left to live. Well, that's how Ryan felt at the moment. He had a hard time imagining his mother trotting around the ranch in her Gucci shoes. The thought of manure getting on her designer shoes did bring a smile to Ryan's face.
"So I take it that things didn't go well for dad," Ryan asked.
"Apparently not, he didn't have a lot of time to talk, he didn't want your mom to know that he was on the phone with me. Then he called back this morning just before he was going to leave for work to tell me that they were going to be coming next week."
Breakfast was quiet, even the normally bubbly Jessi was quiet; she had come downstairs and had flashed Ryan a quick smile. Ryan couldn't believe his parents were coming, and he had a whole week to prepare for the onslaught of what only could be termed Hurricane Margaret.
By the time Ryan had checked the creek, and driven back to the ranch Walter was already there waiting for him. At least he had this to take his mind off the impending doom that he felt.
Bernie was happy to see Ryan walk into the corral, he trotted over and nuzzled Ryan's pocket looking for the daily ration of carrots and apples. Ryan fished his knife from his jeans and reached into his jacket pocket and cut the carrot into pieces. Ryan saddled Bernie and led him over to where Jessi and Walter were standing.
"Hi Walter," Ryan smiled, and then he winked at Jessi.
"I appreciate you doing this," Walter reached out and shook Ryan's hand.
Walter and Jessi already had a number of steers in one of the smaller holding pens, Jessi's job was to open the gate, and send them out one at a time.
"After you rope, and dally, you want to move the steer to the left," Walter explained, "I'll be right behind you and will rope the steer's feet."
"Dally? What's that," Ryan asked.
"It's when you loop the rope around your saddle horn, be careful not to get your finger caught up in the rope. You can lose a finger that way," Walter explained.
Ryan nodded, "Okay I think I understand, but what is the point of team roping?"
"Once a cow gets to be a certain size, it's too much for one man, and one horse to handle, it's a way to brand, or doctor a larger animal," Walter answered.
Ryan's first couple of attempts at roping were failures, Walter rode over to him, "You're trying too hard, you are trying to think as you are letting the lasso go, don't think about what you are doing, trust your instincts."
Ryan nodded, then backed Bernie back up to the fence, and then nodded at Jessi. She opened the chute and swatted the hindquarters of a steer sending the steer running out into the main corral at a full run.
Walter yelled, "Go!"
Ryan swatted Bernie on the rump with his coiled lasso, and Bernie took off at full speed after the steer. Bernie closed quickly; Ryan had the lasso twirling, and then snapped it with a flick of his wrist. The loop dropped over the steer's head, and Ryan quickly looped the rope around the saddle horn. Bernie pulled up and to the left, turning the steer, but not letting him drop. Walter had been in hot retreat, bringing up the rear, as soon as he saw Ryan's loop land, his snapped out toward the ground, at the rear legs of the steer.
Bernie had known what to do; he backed up keeping the line tight and the steer straight. Ryan looked at Walter who for the first time was smiling, "Now that's what I'm talking about," Walter was grinning from ear to ear.
Ryan heard a whoop coming from Jessi; he turned and looked at her pumping her fist in the air, "Wahoo! That was great."
After Walter had left for the day Ryan led Bernie into the barn, and removed the saddle, and blanket. He picked up a brush and began to brush Bernie down.
"You did good today," Ryan spoke to the horse, "You make me look like I know what I'm doing."
Bernie turned his head and rubbed it against Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan stopped his brushing and looked into the animal's large dark eyes, he reached up and scratched behind Bernie's ears, "Yeah, I know, you want an apple. Well you deserve one."
Jessi walked into the barn and stopped, and watched Ryan. She smiled softly as she watched Ryan talking to Bernie, brushing him, and talking to him some more. Finally she walked to the stall where Ryan and Bernie were, "Hey cowboy, I brought you something."
Ryan turned in time to catch an apple that Jessi tossed in his direction, he smiled, "Thanks, that will make someone very happy."