The Studhorse Man

This is my entry for the 2015 Literotica Summer Lovin' Story Contest. I appreciate you taking the time to read it and, if you enjoy it, please don't forget to vote!

*All characters involved in sexual situations in this story are eighteen years of age or older.*

* * *

Rebecca was riding through a sprawling stand of sagebrush in the north quarter when she heard it: a throaty rumble rolling across the muted hills like a herald announcing his arrival.

The buckskin gelding beneath her caught it too, his ears swiveling toward the sound, but he waited for her cue before veering to his left and cantering up the nearby ridge. When they reached the crest she brought him to a halt and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the high summer sun.

The big blue Montana sky towered above the low rolling hills, painted every shade of green as they stretched into the distance toward the dark, snow-capped peaks lining the horizon.

Rebecca scanned the narrow roads snaking through the farms and ranches lining the countryside, trying to find the source of the low roar reverberating across the plain. The big gelding whickered. She followed his gaze and felt a flutter in her belly when she spotted the dark shape powering westward along the shimmering asphalt.

"It's him. It has to be him." The gold-coated gelding shook his ebon mane as if in agreement. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Take me home, Athair."

Ten minutes later they were reining up in front of the stables. Rebecca swung out of the saddle as Alexa, her younger sister, stepped forward to take the reins.

"You can't ride him so hard," Alexa said, as she ran her hand across his sweat-soaked coat. "Not in this heat. Athair's too old for it."

"I know," Rebecca said. She stroked her horse's neck in apology and he pressed his muzzle against her ear, letting out a deep, fluttering sigh as she gave him an appreciative kiss.

"Do you mind taking care of him for me? There's something I've got to deal with that can't wait."

Alexa gave her a questioning smile. "I saw him over by the big house. Who is he?"

"Just a studhorse man."

* * *

Rebecca spotted him as soon as she came around the corner of the barn. His motorcycle, flat black and chrome, was cooling in the shade of the big house. He was standing beside it with well-worn leathers hanging from one hand.

He turned to face her and she froze in her tracks. She'd been expecting a grizzled Marlboro Man, not the solemn, boyish face greeting her now.

Her mother was beside him. She waved. "Rebecca, this is Chance Monaghan, the man we've been waiting for. Chance, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter."

He nodded and held out his hand. Rebecca shook it half-heartedly, as if not completely convinced this was the man they'd been waiting for.

"There a problem?" Chance said.

Rebecca's mother stepped toward her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You'll have to excuse my daughter, Mr. Monaghan. I expect she's just as surprised as I am at how...youthful you are. The last time I saw your father he was well into his forties and that was more than ten years ago. I'm sure you can understand how, when we got that letter saying his son could do the job, we expected you'd be a mite older."

"I understand," Chance said, "but I can assure you I have what it takes to get the job done."

Rebecca's face flushed with color as she glanced over her shoulder, worried someone might have overheard him.

Chance continued. "If it's alright, I was hopin we could talk about our arrangement."

"Of course," Rebecca's mother said, "but I think it might be better if we discussed it in private."

"That works for me. Lead on."

He followed them underneath the verandah of a nearby building, the heavy heels of his black Daytons rattling the bone-dry planks. A door opened into an office and the three of them went inside. Rebecca's mother sat in a large padded chair behind a desk while Chance leaned against a wall decorated with a bleached cow skull. Rebecca stayed on the opposite side of the room from him with her arms crossed, still staring, still unsure.

Her mother flashed a look at her that said, calm down. Then she gave Chance a welcoming smile. "Won't you have a seat, Mr. Monaghan?"

"If it's all the same to you, ma'am, I'd rather stand. I've been sittin on the back of that bike since sunup."

"That's fine, but you can lose the ma'am. Just hearing that word come out of your mouth makes me feel old as dust. People around here call me Alma and you can too.

"Now, I know you want to get down to business, Mr. Monaghan, so first things first. Only my daughter, her man and I know the real reason you're here. As far as anyone else on this ranch is concerned, you're just a studhorse man staying as our guest for a few days so you can get a good look at some of our breeding stock. I've also sent the money as requested and I have the receipt right here."

She pushed a piece of paper across the deck toward him but he waved it away. "That's fine. It ain't the money I wanted to discuss." He turned his gaze on Rebecca. "I know your mother sent the letter, but you do know how this works, right?"

Rebecca had been lost in thought and his question jolted her back to the present, but instead of answering she blurted out, "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-four, ma'am."

"Jesus Christ! He's six years younger than me and now he's calling me ma'am!" Rebecca swept her hand through her hair, pacing back and forth as if she might bolt at any second.

"You'll have to excuse my daughter, Mr. Monaghan," Alma said. "When we sent that letter we were expecting a reply from your father. It was a shock to us both to learn he'd passed on and an even bigger shock when we were asked if his son could stand in his stead. Your father's name was well known in certain circles in these parts, but I have to confess no one I talked to even knew he had a son. At least, not one he called his own. No offense intended."

"None taken," Chance said. "I never really knew my father that well, and I'm kind of a latecomer to the family business. I wish I could give you some references, but my line of work ain't exactly one clients are eager to leave testimonials about."

"I understand, and I can assure you I wouldn't have sent for you if I wasn't confident you could get the job done."

"Don't you worry about that, I'll get the job done." He locked his eyes on Rebecca. "By the time I leave this ranch, you will be pregnant."

His words seemed to stagger her and she swayed for a second, caught off guard by the reminder of why he was really here.

"The way it works is like this," he said. "You'll spend three nights with me, I can come to your room or you can come to mine, but there won't be no test tubes or in vitro. We'll do it the old-fashioned way, just like nature intended, and by the time I'm done you'll have what you wanted."

Rebecca slumped to a chair, her hand on her belly as she eyed the boyishly-handsome stud standing opposite in his double-front Carhartts and plain white tee. She shook her head. "Archie ain't gonna like this."

Chance raised an eyebrow. "Archie?"

"My future son-in-law," Alma said, "but don't let that worry you, we won't have any trouble with him. He's already agreed to all of this. I wouldn't have sent for you if he hadn't."

As if on cue, the door opened and a genuine cowboy stepped through, complete with Stetson, shitkickers and a giant gold belt buckle holding up a pair of faded Levi's that seemed two sizes too tight. He was stocky and curly-haired and he barely glanced at Chance before turning to Alma. "Ada said you wanted me?"

Alma nodded at Chance. "Archie, this is Chance Monaghan. The man I told you we were sending for."

"I thought you said this studhorse man was some old roustabout. Who's this kid?"

"This is his son. I told you last week he'd be coming instead."

"Oh yeah, guess I forgot." He circled Chance, sizing him up. Rebecca stood and moved to Archie's side. She tried to slide her hand into his but he pulled away from her.

He said, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but I think you wasted your time comin down here. Ain't no way you're gettin this job done."

"Don't worry about that," Chance said. "I'll get the job done."

Archie tilted his hat back and grinned. "I don't think you're gettin the picture, pardner. You see, there's a reason Rebecca ain't had no young'uns. Let's just say that ain't a crib between her legs, it's only a playpen."

Chance glanced at Rebecca as a look of anguish crossed her face. "Your letter said there was nothin physically wrong."

"Because there is nothing wrong," Alma said, as she leapt out of her chair and shot Archie a poisonous glance. "My daughter is perfectly healthy. The doctors have confirmed it."

"I keep tryin to tell you they're all quacks," Archie said. "If she's so healthy, then how come she ain't pregnant?"

Alma stared daggers at him and then turned back to Chance. "What he is trying to say is that the doctors haven't been able to conclusively identify why these two haven't been blessed with a child. That's why we sent for you, Mr. Monaghan."

Archie sneered. "Trust me, this kid ain't got what it takes to get the job done. We'd be better off keepin that money."

Chance straightened up. "I don't aim to stay where I ain't wanted. If you want me to leave, just say the word."

Alma's eyes filled with alarm, but it was her daughter who spoke. "No, please, don't go," Rebecca said. "We need you. Don't we, Archie?" She took his hand and squeezed it tight, not letting him pull away this time.

Archie glanced toward Alma and took a deep breath. "I apologize if I misspoke. This situation's been a frustratin one, but Rebecca's right; we both want this. I ain't gonna lie and say I'm convinced it's gonna work, but I ain't gonna get in the way either while the two of you do what it takes to find out."

He pulled his hand away from Rebecca and walked out of the room without looking back.

Alma came out from behind the desk and slid her arm reassuringly around her daughter's waist. "We appreciate this, Mr. Monaghan. We really do."

"I'm glad to help, and if it's alright I wouldn't mind takin a shower and catchin a nap."

Alma pressed a button on an intercom and thirty seconds later a dark-haired woman came through the door. "This is Ada. She'll show you to your room, Mr. Monaghan."

"Thank you kindly, and please, just call me Chance."

* * *

The sun was setting when he finished the meal Ada had brought to his room. Pork loin topped with raspberry relish and glazed carrots. He walked outside onto the second floor verandah that ran past his room and left the plate beside the door. At the bottom of the ground floor stairs, a black and white mutt watched him warily. Chance checked his watch. Quarter after nine.

He headed back inside and took another shower. He'd just finished when he heard a knock. He wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Rebecca was there. So was the plate. The dog had licked it clean.

She stepped into his room, a traveling bag under her arm.

Chance eyed it with curiosity. "You plan on spendin the night?"

"No...I mean...why, am I supposed to?!"

"Relax," he said, "it was just a little joke."

Rebecca gave him a weak smile as she kept the bulky bag close, holding it in front of her like a shield. Chance might have had a boy's face, but he had a man's body, lined with muscle. Not the kind of muscle born in a weight room or found in a bottle. This was lean muscle, hard muscle, the type earned through rough, mean work. No tattoos decorated his skin. Instead, scars crisscrossed his flesh and told a tale of separated shoulders, broken clavicles and dislocated knees.

Rebecca felt the butterflies in her belly return as she stared at the towel slung around his waist like a gun belt and wondered at what might be hiding underneath. Swallowing hard, she said, "I better change."

"Not a problem," he said. "I'll be waitin."

Rebecca went into the bathroom. She dropped her bag on the floor and opened the window, leaning against it as she inhaled the cool night air. She stared across the yard toward the stables. Athair's familiar whinny came from inside as if he sensed her watching.

But it wasn't Athair she was looking for. There was a small room connected to the stables and for the last few months Archie had called it home. She'd begged him to come back to the bed they were supposed to share but their failure to conceive was a sore spot for him. She prayed this would heal it.

She'd gone to his room before coming to see Chance, hoping Archie could reassure her they were doing the right thing. The door was locked. When she knocked, he didn't answer.

His light was on now. She could see his shadow moving on the other side of the closed curtains. But it was too late for any reassurances. She was already here. The decision had been made.

Rebecca closed the window and stripped down to her underwear. Then she stopped and stared at herself in the mirror, circling her hand against her belly as she took a deep breath.

When she stepped out of the bathroom she was dressed in a floor-length white nightie that covered her from neck to toe. Chance was sitting in a chair, naked except for the small towel around his waist. He grinned at her as he rubbed his hand across his sand-colored brush cut.

"That looks hot," he said.

She brushed a loose lock of hair back behind her ear and gave him a weak smile. "Thanks. My mom picked it out."

He laughed. "That ain't what I meant. What is that, flannel?"

"Umm, yeah, I think so."

"It's the middle of summer. You'll cook in that. Wouldn't you rather take it off?"

She shook her head. There was no way she was taking it off.

Chance sighed. "All right, let's get this rodeo started. I guess you know already this ain't a date so there won't be no kissin, but if you've got a certain position you're more comfortable with, I'm happy to accommodate."

Rebecca blinked. Were there more than two positions? "Uh, normal position is fine, thanks."

He stood and came toward her and she took an anxious step backward, bumping into the nightstand and nearly knocking the lamp over. He gave her a reassuring smile as he pulled the bedspread back for her.

"You can still change your mind," he said. "I'm sure you wouldn't be the first."

She shook her head. "I'm not changing my mind. It's just important to me that you know...I've never been with any other man than Archie."

"I respect that."

"And the only reason I'm here is because we both want this, him and I."

Chance nodded and walked to the far side of the bed. Rebecca slid beneath the blanket. She didn't look at him. She stared at the ceiling, stiff as a board, her hands clutching the cover up around her neck.

Chance turned off the light. She heard his towel hit the floor and felt the cover lift. The bed sagged as he moved close. His leg brushed against hers and she tensed.

"Sorry," he whispered. "You ready?"

Rebecca's heart hammered in her chest. She knew if any of her girlfriends had seen Chance waiting in that towel they would have ripped their clothes off and tackled him like it was the steer-roping finals, but for her the situation she was in seemed about as sexy as a root canal.

She wished it hadn't come down to this. She wished Archie would have agreed to one of the other options her mother had suggested. But now the bed was made and she literally was lying in it. Fighting back an almost overpowering urge to tear off the blanket and flee the room, she pulled her nightie up around her waist and shimmied out of her panties.

Chance slid his hand near, startling her when his fingers brushed against her bare thigh. He said, "You, uh, you need me to get you ready first? You know, down there?"

It took her a second to realize what he meant, and when she did her cheeks turned crimson. "No," she whispered, "just get it over with."

The bed creaked as he moved on top of her in the darkness. She licked her dry lips and instinctively spread her legs.

An image flashed through her mind of a young mare's eyes, wide with fright as a stallion was led back and forth in front of her with his menacing length swinging heavily beneath him. She could see Chance's silhouette above her and couldn't help feeling the same way as he prepared to mount her.

He pressed his knee against the inside of her thigh to get her to open her legs a little wider as he moved between them, his weight on his knees and one hand. She knew where his other hand was and she gasped as something heavy brushed against her thigh.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Yes, I'm fine." She clenched the sheets and squeezed her eyes shut.

She felt his heavy length again, prodding and pushing where her legs met, eliciting startled gasps from her as he probed unsuccessfully in the dark.

"Sorry," Chance whispered. "Do you mind givin me a hand?"

Rebecca shifted her weight and spread her legs even wider.

"That ain't what I meant. I really do need you to use your hand, you know, to guide me in."

Rebecca stared up at the silhouette looming above her, not sure why she was so shocked by the request. Had she thought she could lay with him three times and never have to touch him?

She blindly reached between his legs and her heart skipped a beat when she found what she was looking for. His cock was hard, really hard. She could barely get her fingers around it. She slid her hand down his length, trying to find his knob so she could guide him to her pussy, but his cock seemed to go on forever.

An image of a stallion flashed through her thoughts again, his enormous length stiff and ready as he eagerly waited to mount a mare. She licked her lips as her fingers wrapped around the end of Chance's cock and tensed as she guided him to her tiny opening, not entirely sure his huge knob was going to fit.

The instant she had him in position Chance pressed forward, trying to force himself inside her. Rebecca kept a tight grip on his shaft, squeezing him hard to make sure he didn't go deeper than she was ready for. But Chance didn't even make it past the entrance.

"You're too tight," he whispered, "and you're not wet enough."

Rebecca knew he was right. Her mouth wasn't the only part of her that was bone dry. But what did he expect? She wasn't one of those women whose pussy gushed at the thought of another man's cock inside her.

She'd been with Archie for more than seven years and, though they'd had their rough patches, she'd always been faithful. Even though her mind might have been convinced the sacrifice she was about to make had a greater purpose, her body obviously needed a little more convincing.

Something slick brushed between her legs, startling her. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Gettin you ready," Chance whispered. "You don't want me stickin it in there when you ain't wet."

He licked two of his fingers and gently rubbed them between her folds. Rebecca shuddered at the touch and, as he dipped the tip of his middle finger inside, circling it against her opening, a small gasp escaped her.

"There we go," Chance whispered. "That's better."

Rebecca swallowed hard, knowing the slippery feel between her legs wasn't from his saliva. Her pussy was betraying the rest of her body, coating Chance's finger with a drop of dew as he continued to tease her with his gentle touch.

He brushed his fingers back and forth, paying special attention to her clit. Rebecca tilted her head back, trying to ignore the lightning bolts of pleasure he was sending arcing through her body, but it was impossible. Her heart was pounding and her mouth seemed drier than ever.

When he finally pulled his hand away she gasped in relief and tried to relax, but she tensed again a second later when he pressed his knob against her.