BROKEN

By Wes Leigh

 

This is a work of fiction intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.

This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Monty is hiding something from me. I can tell.

When we crawled out of bed this morning, I asked him what he had planned for the day. He told me to wait and I'd find out soon enough.

When we finished cleaning out the horse stalls, Monty told me to keep Amber and Misty back and let the others out to pasture. He wouldn't tell me why, just that we'd need them later. And he asked me to take a good shower before breakfast. That's very suspicious.

Now, sitting down at the breakfast table, I see Monty and Momma whispering together. He's asking her a question, and she's nodding her head. She notices me looking their way, and she smiles briefly before walking back to the stove to stir the oatmeal.

Monty slides into the chair next to mine. "Eat a big breakfast," he says. "We've got a busy day ahead."

"Doing what?" I ask.

Monty grins. "Hard work that will be a lot easier if you've had a big breakfast."

Poppa chuckles. "You haven't told him yet?"

Shaking his head, Monty replies, "Not yet. Kinda want it to be a surprise."

"What's the surprise?" I ask. I glare at Monty. "What are we doing today, Monty? Tell me!"

He shakes his head. "My lips are sealed, Cowboy."

If we were in the bunkhouse alone, I know how I'd get his lips unsealed, but the entire family is around us right now. I'll find out somehow. He can't keep secrets from me. I know ways of making him talk.

͠ ͠ ͠

Poppa and Carson head for the barn to get shovels. They're irrigating in a few hours, so they need to be ready to open the gates on our irrigation ditches to flood the alfalfa fields.

Momma and Mattie are working in the greenhouse, moving seedlings to the outside garden soil they've been preparing for the last week.

Monty tells me to get Misty and Amber saddled up while he takes care of a few chores in the house. That sounds darned suspicious to me. Monty doesn't have chores to do in the house, but he's still acting mysterious, so I do what he asks. I walk Misty and Amber to the barn and saddle them up.

Monty comes in the barn with saddlebags draped over his shoulder. He hands them to me and motions for me to load them onto our horses. While I'm doing that, he walks around behind a partition and comes out with two big packs that are rigged to load on the back of our saddles.

"What's in there?" I ask.

"A few things we'll need later."

"When are you going to tell me what we're doing today."

"When you stop asking."

I close my mouth, thinking about what he just said. All I have to do to get an answer is to stop asking, but how can I ask him if I've stopped asking long enough for him to answer if I can't ask him? I'm confusing myself now.

Fine. If he won't tell me, I won't ask. Sooner or later, I'll find out.

͠ ͠ ͠

With all the packs loaded on the horses, Monty and I mount up and head down the back lane, headed for the river. It's a hot day, but there are massive clouds building in the east. We might get some rain later, which would cool things down a bit. Monty leads us down into the river bottoms and heads straight for the river. It's flowing full, now that they're releasing water from the dam just upriver from us. The ground is squishy, and each step the horses take makes a funny squelching noise.

Monty turns Amber north when we reach the river and heads upstream. Misty follows without me asking her. I'm still bursting to know what Monty has planned for today, but I refuse to ask.

Monty motions for me to bring Misty up next to Amber. When we're walking side by side, Monty says, "You know, Cowboy, we're all incredibly proud of how you and Misty did at the fair."

I don't respond.

He grins. He knows what I'm doing. If I don't talk, he has to tell me what we're going to do today. "You father wanted to reward you, and I suggested a little vacation might be a good bonus for a hard-working horse trainer."

I grin.

"And his goofy helper," Monty adds.

I glare at him, making him laugh.

"So, here's the deal, Cowboy. We're riding a half day upriver to a spot I've heard about. We're camping there overnight, going swimming, and relaxing. Might find a few other things to do while we're there."

I'm trying to pretend I'm still mad at him, but I'm imagining all the things we could find to do, all by ourselves, out in the middle of nowhere.

"What do you say? You like my plans for the day?"

I shrug. "I suppose. If that's all you have in mind."

Monty laughs. "I deserved that. You don't like your surprise?"

I can't pretend any longer. I break out into the biggest smile ever and nod. "Sure do. This is going to be great!"

͠ ͠ ͠

Monty sets up our campground in a beautiful little copse of cottonwoods next to the river. There's a shady spot for the horses to be staked out, eating lush grasses growing near the river. We have a two-man tent nearby with sleeping bags inside. That's what he had in the packs that we loaded on the back of the horses.

Monty arranges rocks for a campfire while I find dry wood. He starts a fire and heats up the stew Momma made for us. It tastes great with the leftover biscuits from breakfast.

We wash the pot and dishes in the river, then sit next to the fire, cuddling.

I feel like teasing Monty, so I ask, "When are you going to tell me what the surprise is?"

He pulls me against his chest and starts tickling my ribs. I'm squealing and struggling to get away, but Monty won't let me go. His fingers dig into my sides. He's merciless.

"Stop, please!" I cry. "I'll be good. I promise!"

Monty stops torturing me and pulls me in for a sweet kiss. "You're always good, Cowboy, even when you're bad."

Giggling, I slide my hand down his body and find his hard cock poking sideways in his jeans. I squeeze it and say, "Surprise!"

͠ ͠ ͠

Skinny dipping with your cowboy boyfriend is the best way to spend a warm, summer afternoon.

The river is running fast, so Monty and I stay close to the shore. I love holding on to his neck, giving him playful kisses with my chest pressed up against his muscular body. It's also fun rubbing our cocks together under the water.

"Does it bother you that I'm still so small and skinny?" I ask.

"No. Does it bother you?"

"Not as much as it did. When I first met you, I didn't like my body very much."

Monty nibbles on my lip. "Why is that?"

I snort. "Isn't it obvious? I'm thin, scrawny, and my dick is only four inches long."

Monty shrugs and pulls me into a tight hug. "I like your dick just fine. It's the perfect length for sliding into my mouth without making me gag."

"What about when I stick it in your butt? Don't you wish I was a little longer?"

"Nope. You are just long enough to reach my happy place."

We both giggle hearing that, and I give him a big kiss. "You cock reaches my happy place too, every time."

"The thing is, Truman, you're going to keep growing as you get older, and I know you'll have a cock like your brother's one day, so I plan to take advantage of it now, when it slides in my butt with just a little spit for lube."

I don't want to spoil the fun mood we're in, but there's something I've been wanting to ask Monty, and this seems like as good a time as any. "Monty?"

"What is it, Cowboy?"

"Will you still love me when I'm as big as Carson?"

Monty frowns at me a bit. "Now why would you ask that?"

"I don't know. I sometimes wonder why you would want a little squirt like me for your boyfriend. You're strong and handsome and ... and I've been thinking the only reason you want to be with me is because I remind you of Jonas and you think this is your second chance to be with him, even though it's actually me you're with, but maybe, deep inside, you still love him."

Monty pulls my arms off his neck and lowers me into the water. He shakes his head sadly and says, "No, Truman. That's not it at all." He turns and walks to the riverbank and climbs out. Then he sits on the grass, staring out over the water, not saying a word.

I was right. It did spoil the mood, and now I'm afraid I've upset him. I wade through the water and lean on the riverbank, looking up at Monty. "I'm sorry, Monty. Please don't be mad."

He turns to look at me and gives me a sad smile. "I'm not mad at you, Truman, but I do owe you an explanation for why a man my age would be attracted to a teenager like yourself."

"You don't have to explain anything, Monty. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Monty pats the grass next him. "Come here, Cowboy." I pull myself out of the river and crawl on hands and knees until I'm next to him, then sit cross-legged, facing him with my knees against his leg. Neither of us has a boner any more. I feel so stupid for messing up our time together.

Monty places one hand on my knee and gently squeezes it. "First of all, I did love Jonas. With all my heart. And I always will. He was my first love and my first broken heart. When he died, it left a scar that will never completely heal."

Monty turns to look at me, and his eyes are filled with tears. "But you are not Jonas. You are not a replacement for Jonas. You are Truman Nathaniel Greene, a wonderful guy all on your own, who deserves a man who will love you as you are: a scrawny little squirt at the moment who will one day grow into a strong, handsome fellow." He grins to show me he's teasing, and I smile too, hoping that maybe I haven't ruined everything after all. Monty frowns and says, "I don't want to be with anyone else, Truman. Not a big, strong guy like myself. Not a ghost lover like Jonas. I want to be with you, the young man who has found his own place in my heart. Does that make sense?"

I nod. "It does. But there's still a part of me that feels like I'm not good enough for you. I see my little dick and wish it was bigger. I see my skinny body and wish I had more muscles."

Monty places his finger on my lips, hushing me. "Truman, you do realize that you are much more intelligent than me, don't you?"

I shake my head in denial. "That's not true, Monty. You know so much about horses and sex and all kinds of things I don't know."

"Hold on," Monty replies. "I'm not talking about things I know. I talking about how smart you are. You're one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. When I teach you something I know about horses, you learn it the first time and I never have to repeat myself. When I teach you a new sex game, you add clever twists to it to make it even more fun."

"Okay. I see what you mean. What's your point?"

"And when it comes to riding horses, you beat me hands down."

"What? No way. Monty, you're a lot better horseman than me."

Monty shakes his head. "Truman, you are the best rider I've ever met. That day you broke Chance, you remember how wild he was bucking?"

I nod and laugh. "I'll never forget it."

"Well, Cowboy, there ain't no way I could have stayed on Chance like you did. And when you're riding the other horses, I think you've spread glue on your butt, because you stick to the saddle no matter how they move."

I'm giggling now. Picturing myself smearing super sticky glue on the saddle.

Monty squeezes my knee gently. "Do I go around, kicking myself in the ass, because I'm not as smart as Mr. Truman Greene?"

I shake my head. "No, I suppose you don't."

"Do I feel bad because you're a better rider than me?" I shake my head again. Monty gives me a firm squeeze on the leg and says, "Then you stop kicking yourself in the ass because you're not as big or strong or well hung as the other guys you know."

I nod bashfully, then look Monty in the eye and ask, "Do you really like how easy my dick slides in your ass with just a little spit?"

He grins and nods. "Yep. Sure do, cowboy."

"You want to try it right now?"

"Here on the riverbank?" Monty asks.

"Why not?" I ask.

͠ ͠ ͠

Fifteen minutes later, I draw in a deep breath, shove my cock as far into Monty's butt as I can, and groan as my cum squirts inside him.

I continue reaching around him, stroking his cock, slow and easy. I don't want him to cum until he's inside me. My mouth or my butt, I don't care which.

When my cock stops lurching, I slide out of Monty's butt and turn him over. Now, with him on his back, I can decide where I want his cum to go.

I start by bending over him and sucking his cock. It's slippery with precum, so I know he's been enjoying everything my cock was doing inside him. I suppose he's right. I'm not very big yet, but I'm long enough and smart enough to know how to use it to make him happy.

His cock is rigid, and I know it won't be long. Where do I want his cum? I think about it as I bob up and down. I love the taste of his cum, and there's something exciting about feeling his cock swell up in my mouth just before a hot splash of cum hits the back of my throat. But I also love watching his face while he's thrusting his hips up against me, feeling my guts squeezing down on his thick cock.

It's a tough choice, but I decide I want it in my butt.

I throw my leg across him and straddle his waist. I lean down and rub my chest against his. We've both been sweating in the heat, and our bodies are slippery. Reaching behind me, I can just reach his cock. I lift it up and rub the fat tip against my pucker. I shiver, thinking how good it will feel when it opens up my hole and slides inside. I rub it all around, putting it right on my hole, then push back. I guess my hole isn't ready, because his cock slides underneath and pokes me in the balls. I try again. It slides up my crack and onto my back. This isn't working.

"Hold you cock for me, Monty," I ask. He reaches down and points his cock at my butt. I pull my cheeks apart, opening my pucker as wide as I can, then wiggle back until I feel the spongy tip right against my hole. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on relaxing, pushing back, opening up and allowing him inside me. It's a painful stretch, and I have to wait for just a bit to allow my butt to get used to how wide he is. Maybe I should have stretched it open with a couple of fingers first? I'm thinking I've gone too fast again when the spasms in my butt begin to subside. I push back slowly, feeling myself spread open to allow his cock to slide in me.

I wiggle my hips, pushing him deeper, then lie down on him, chest to chest, and I kiss him. This is perfect. His cock is balls-deep in my butt. My hairless body is pressed against his furry chest and warm belly. Our mouths line up perfectly. I begin kissing him passionately while rocking my hips, sliding his cock in and out, thrusting my still-hard boner against his belly. "This is one time I'm glad I'm shorter than you," I whisper.

He smiles. He knows what I mean. His hands roam over my back, caressing me, stroking me. I wish we could be here forever, in the shade of the cottonwoods, with our bodies joined together, our hearts pounding in our chests as we make love.

Monty is clutching my body against him now, shoving his cock as deep as he can on every thrust. He throws his head back and moans. His hands pull my butt against his hips, and he thrusts his cock forward and holds himself there. He's cumming. I can feel his body spasming beneath me, then going still. He pulls my face down and kisses me.

And the rest of the afternoon is much the same.

We cuddle. We kiss. We make love. We wash off in the river, climb out and sun ourselves on the bank, then begin again.

I am thirteen. My lover is twenty-three.

I'm scrawny and uncoordinated. He's strong and muscular.

But I'm smart and a darned good horseman.

My dick is four inches long, and I have very blonde, almost invisible pubes. He is seven inches long, thick, and extremely hairy.

He loves me just the way I am, and I'm beginning to accept myself, because I'm finally seeing what I am to him. And I like what I see. I'm not looking at a broken boy anymore, but at a young man who is coming into his own, who is in love and who has earned love, from Montana McDowell and from a little filly named Misty Morning's Kiss and from my big brother Carson and the rest of my family too.

I'm Truman Nathaniel Greene, and I like who I am. Thank you for that gift, Monty.

͠ ͠ ͠

Something wakes me up. I don't know what just happened.

I sit up, trying to get my bearings. There's a loud crash, and I realize it was a booming noise just like it that woke me up seconds ago.

Monty rolls over next to me. "What's going on?" he mumbles.

"I don't know. Something's wrong, Monty."

Another loud crash, with a long rumbling roar following it. There is also the sound of wind ripping through the branches above us and water rushing nearby. And somewhere in the distance, I hear our horses whinnying in fear.

I throw the sleeping bag off and scramble on my knees to the tent opening, searching for the zipper, pulling it up frantically. Outside the tent, the world has gone mad. Wind is roaring in the trees. Freezing rain is pouring down. Branches have fallen to the ground. Lightning is striking across the river, lighting everything up momentarily. The river is overflowing and moving dangerously fast.

"It's a thunderstorm!" I shout to Monty.

"Flash flood?" he asks.

"Yeah!" I find my jeans and yank them on, then shove my feet into my boots and crawl quickly out of the tent, looking for the horses. They aren't in the sheltered cove where we left them staked out last night. We have to find them!

Monty scrambles out of the tent with a flashlight in one hand and a coiled rope in the other. He shines it in my face, then shines it all around, searching.

"Where are they?" I shout.

We hear a frightened whinny to the east.

We both run that way, bent over to keep from being blown down by the gusting wind. Stumbling through the mud, we slide down a hill into water. One of our horses is there. Monty's flashlight shows Amber, knee deep in muddy water, struggling to get out. I grab her halter and hold her steady while Monty scrambles back up the slope and finds a tree. Coiling the rope once around the trunk, he throws the other end to me. I tie it to Amber's halter and begin tugging her toward Monty while he uses the tree for leverage to pull Amber, foot by foot, up to dryer land.

When she's finally safe, I gasp and ask, "Where's Misty?"

Lightning flashes on a nearby hill. Monty's face is briefly illuminated. His cheek and chest are covered in mud. He looks scared. "I don't know, Truman, but we'll find her."

The darkness is impenetrable. The storm is raging all round us, so even if we had the light of the moon to see by, I doubt we'd be able to search for her. What can I do? There has to be something. I have to find her. Somehow.

Lightning flashes across the sky. Amber shakes, and Monty pats her shoulder. "It's okay, girl. You're fine now."

I turn and look in every direction. To the south, I hear a faint, fearful nicker. "Misty?" I don't wait for Monty to give me the flashlight, but take off running.

"TRUMAN! WAIT!"

I hear the nicker again. It's Misty. I know it is. I run as fast as I can, stumbling in the dark over the uneven ground, tripping and falling and getting back up to run again. "MISTY!" I yell. A faint whinny answers me, from just ahead. I sprint forward and feel the earth drop out from under my feet and the river catching me.

͠ ͠ ͠

The water is ice cold. I struggle to the surface and gasp for breath. I'm being swept downstream and there's nothing I can do. A branch catches me in the side, knocking the breath from my lungs. I groan but grab the branch and hold on. It's a willow root, washed out underneath by the rushing waters. I clutch it to my chest and suck in quick breaths.

I hear the nicker again, closer this time. "MISTY!" I scream. She whinnies. I release the branch and swim as hard as I can toward the sound of her call. Another frightened whinny, only feet away. I strike out with my hands and catch her mane. She's fighting the current, struggling to swim. I aim us both downstream, but angled toward the riverbank, as best I can remember where it is.

We swim, fighting to keep our heads above water, pushing forward. We're being swept downstream, but struggling to cross the current. The shore must be getting closer, but I don't know how much longer I can swim. Suddenly, Misty lurches up from the water. I think we're finally close enough now that she's able to reach the bottom. She leaps again, moving forward, pulling me with her. Lightning strikes nearby, and I can see the riverbank only a few feet away. In the dwindling light from the lightning strike, I see Monty and Amber standing on the riverbank. Monty is swinging a coiled rope above his head.

Darkness descends again as the lightning flashes fade. The river is still sweeping against us, threatening to send us tumbling downstream. I feel something strike my face. I lash out with my hand and grab the rope. Looping it around Misty's neck, I hold onto her mane with both hands. "PULL, MONTY!" I scream.

The rope tightens around Misty's neck. There's another flash of lightning. I see Amber backing up, the end of the rope tied around her neck, and Monty straining to pull too. Misty is moving faster, against the current now, struggling to reach the riverbank. She leaps out of my grip, climbing out of the river, and I feel muddy river soil under my own feet. I fall to my hands and knees, gasping in relief. We made it. Water is still swirling around me, but we made it.

There's a deafening crash as lightning strikes a tree on the bank just upstream of us. My ears are ringing. My body is spasming. My teeth are clinching. And that's the last thing I remember.

 

The end of BROKEN, Chapter Twenty-Four