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Subject: Bull and two boys. 12 – Bruce comes home. Post under gay, bisexual, authoritarian, adult-youth, rural Here is the next installment of Bull and two boys. In it you will follow the saga of a strapping young man blessed and cursed with a cock of Brobdingnagian proportions as he finds adventure and comes to understand and relish his nature as a hard man of sometimes sex and sometimes violence. A born conqueror of men, he will battle his way through picaresque exploits from young marine to for-hire mercenary, to Montana state trooper and back to his first love, ranch hand on his father’s cattle and horse spread in the Seely-Swan valley of western Montana. As he does he will mix things up with unruly, rebellious natives, local men, snooty CA liberal scum invading his beautiful state, condescending eastern tourists and gay boys looking for fun after a pride march. This is fiction, though often based on many of my own experiences – literary-ized, so to speak – and is not meant for anything other than pleasant day-dreaming over a good cigar for the rare ubermen and popper for the plentiful untermench in this PC world of ours. Cigars are part of what makes a man a man, and I suggest you � hunters – give em a try. Just chawing is plenty enough � gets yer head spinnin and the rest of you rarin for action. They are the best high and incitement to vigorous activity/mastery known. Let the bottom boys do their poppers, you Men, give a big black,strong stogie a try. If you like this story and want more, let me know. Might make it available in novella form privately (maybe more violent) as it’s been re-written so many times after being posted on Nifty. And, writing of Nifty, this tale and all the others are only possible when you fags cough up the dough to keep it goin. So, contribute and contribute plenty – today. For top men, fergit it, only the fags should pay. That’s an order! Bull and two boys. 12 � Bruce comes home. Life was getting complicated. He had 3 sons – the fruit of his loins, and 2 more in the oven – and shit, how many of the other kind now? It was getting hard to track. Luke would be pretty easy to handle. There were no real strings between them � two guys accidentally thrown together had an adventure and great time that wonderful week. The inexperience had learned a lot from the seasoned man and had had fun doing so. The sex had been great, and Luke maybe thought he was in love. But the boy had the makings of a man, he would be no clinger. Mitch could almost see him sometime not too far in the future, joyfully wed to Angela. Mitch would see to the marriage; the two of them had to work on the joyful part on their own. Luke and Angela Spencer would have their time for billing and cooing; Mitchell hoped it would be long lasting. Luke would work hard and become a man, breeding his wife, producing fine healthy kids through which Angela would find her proper fulfillment. But, Luke – he also liked it t’other way – and Mitch expected he’d be riding ass sooner or later and knew he’d be riding Luke’s. `I put my brand on him; he’s mine.’ Jeffrey � wow – that came out of nowhere. Two guys who thought they hated each other, and man, had it turned out different. That was spikey, a fucking mine field. He liked Luke a lot � the big hog always rose to attention when Mitchell thought about him. Jeffrey � Mitchell was stricken with guilt and maybe something more. Bruce � he began, like Jeff, as just another conquest, and again, Mitchell was stricken. Worried he Looking in the mirror, `I’m fucking supposed to be Lord God’s anointed Berserker. I ain’t thinkin like a Berserker but like a fucking pussy!’ But, as he keep looking the old swagger returned and with a wave goodbye to that killer handsome mug of his he went to work. Elaine, Ben � and Bruce – were supposed to be back Friday morning to join JoAnne and Joey. `Think I’ll pay em a visit and get some o that straightenin done.’ Called Friday night and told JoAnne he’d be over the next evening; for all of them to be there. `Leave the door unlatched, I’ll git there when I git there.’ Coming straight from work was best, he’d arrive intimidating as all git-out. They were waiting in the bar where it all started. Standing stony at the threshold, Trooper O’Rourke took a good look as he fished out a big cigar and started chawing. After all, it had been weeks now since he’d seen them. JoAnne and Elaine were poised but nervous. Martin was a cowering bitch hiding behind the bar, hate and lust mingled in his eyes. The boys were boys, eager and not too subtle about hiding it. Bruce sat there dejected and close to tears as the reunion he had thought about every day and night since that other night began and stayed grim. Going over to the boys, he tousled their hair and smiled. `How’s life treatin you guy’s? Have fun in SF? `Yes sir, it was great fun we went…’ and they rambled on excited, as he tuned it out as he had done with his own boys and his ex-wife. Yackety yackety. Amused he nodded when necessary, then cocking a hard, long look back at their parents announced, `I’m bringin the boy’s up to Joey’s room to do their homework.’ The kids started protesting but were cut off with a bellowed, `remember what I said wud happen if you two didn’t transform into straight A students?’ an amused stress placed on `straight.’ Smiles instantly faded as they remembered how merciless he could be. A hand on each shoulder, he escorted them up with one last hard look back, `be back in a while, amuse yerselves till then.’ Out of the room, a big squeeze had them at ease. In Joey’s room, Mitch sat down, a boy on each knee. `Here’s how it is boys.’ He let them admiringly play with his chawed cigar kocaeli escort as he first looked at Joey, `it’s MAN cock you love, boy, not me. I opened a new world fer you. There are gay bars in and around Kalispell and with the trainin I gave you, you’ll be very, very popular.’ Ben had been feeling Mitch’s big hand working over his ass, and figured the words weren’t for him. He interjected `Joey’s got a thing for a local high school guy, a big jock football player.’ Joey blushed then laughed, `Yeah, I do, but he isn’t a quarter the man you are, sir!’ `I’ll bet, sonny, I’ll bet,’ Mitch thought as he rubbed his hand across his mouth to hide the smile. `But, does the jock have a thing fer you?’ Laughter all round as the kid replied cockily with `I’m working on it, Sir!” Joey, cock-hound that he was, was attempting to work his hand down into man crotch. `Nah, got a lot of talking to do wit yer parents – the biological ones, cuz I’m yer real daddy, ain’t I boys?’ Ecstatic’Yes, Sir!,’ from both. Ben, I’ll be seein you soon,’ with a significant look at the boy, accompanied by a wink and a rough hand tousling his hair and side of his cheek. Now git to work or you’ll be feelin the bite of yer Dad’s heavy belt on those prime boy butts.’ With a sigh he left. Ben was awful cute; well worth keeping. It would take some work, but he would manage somehow and he’d throw an occasional fuck into Joey too – the kid really knew how to please a man. While shoving the cigar back in his jaw he walked into the bar. They came to a dead stop in whatever they were doing. ‘Here it is. I don’t want yer stinkin stuff, so you JoAnna, and you Elaine and you Martin, can relax. He sort of included Bruce in his pronouncement with a vague wave of a big paw that passed over all of them but with a light touch when it was pointed toward Bruce. Much slower than his son, the sweet little guy still didn’t get it and his lips were trembling. `I take what I want, and keep only what I want, and I don’t want you or yer junk, yer fancy furniture, marble fireplaces, fucking palaces, treasury bonds, stocks, etc. Y’all were miserable losers, starting the big slide down to oblivion, and then I came along. Know I’m way too big for you women, always have been for any women. I got friends though, who are plenty big enough and then some to give a woman the pleasure of a big Montana cock to the balls, and they’ll be coming here regular. Ain’t that right Martin? The wormy fag glowered back, but couldn’t help licking his lips. `If y’all are good boys and girls, that is. You’ll have yer fake but respectable marriages and men too.’ Uneasy glances were exchanged by the women who couldn’t hide any better than their kids that it sounded pretty damn good. `In exchange for all I gave and am givin you, I want but one thing and that is the sons I planted.’ When they started to stir, Mitch put a stop to it at once by simply taking one step forward. Instant stillness followed. Martin, you throw a good party for men who like to play poker, so I think we’ll have them Friday evenings, or on the nights when I kin find four fer bridge. You women and you Bruce will be outta here those nights.’ `You men � will raise my sons as my sons.’ Not a peep. `Is it fuckin `yes,’ or do I take this place, and the four of you apart?’ `Yes sir’ sweetly purred out of the females and Martin, who had visons of big cocks and degrading humiliation dancing before his beady eyes. Bruce had given up, and his head had sunk forward as he looked down. `Alright then’ the big guy growled out. `I got things to do, so no big hog to play wit tonight,’ � sharp glance at Martin. The contempt was stinging. Turning to leave, `oh yeah, Bruce, I been hearing disturbin things bout you. Let’s go boy,’ had Bruce’s head whipping up with an accusatory look at his wife. Elaine hadn’t said a word, in fact, she hadn’t spoken to Mitch at all since that night, but she smirked anyway. Like a little boy being taken to the wood shed for a good beating by his father, he rose and with bowed head followed Mitch to the foyer, then asked permission to go upstairs and get something he needed to take along. As he left, Martin came sidling up to him, `Sir, I need…’ What stopped him finishing the sentence was Mitch’s big hand clenching around his throat sliding him up one of the foyer’s marble columns. Mitch hissed, `You need what I decide you need, fag. Don’t you ever fergit that. You hear me boy?’ Martin couldn’t reply as he was being choked to death as he hung flopping by the big arm. Seeing Bruce coming down with a big shopping bag, Mitchell slowly released the pressure and down the column Martin slid. `Git back in there you slug and don’t talk except when yer asked a question.’ Martin skedaddled back to the other rejects. Holding the door open for Bruce, they went to the cruiser. Mitch again held the door opened, then closed it when Bruce and his package were seated. They sat there in silence, Mitch contemplatively chawin his stogie till, `How much money you make Bruce.’ The little guy reacted with a start thinking, `so, he was only interested in my money.’ He quietly told him the figure and Mitch gave out a low whistle. `Yer loaded, ain’t ya, boy? You can make all that dough and still be this stupid?’ Taking the stogie out of his mouth, as Bruce’s wonderingly looked up he was met by Mitch’s mouth, decisively planted on his own. Hungry slurping was occasionally interrupted by sweet words and gentle caresses. `I been missing my sweet little guy like to drive me crazy,’ was said but accompanied by the thought, `so I been keepin myself busy so’s I didn’t git too dejected.’ Bruce didn’t need to know about all that `a man’s gotta darıca escort be a MAN and spread his seed,` stuff. Overjoyed, Bruce could finally run those desperate, delicate hands all over his man as Mitch drove him home to his shabby dump. The dump which seemed more wonderful than any palace to Bruce, because Mitch was there, and they were alone. Mitch didn’t give a fuck who saw, and carried his sweet, loving boy from the car to the apartment. Giving Bruce the key, his little hand shook so that Mitch had to take over and with a kick sent the door flying open. With a boom, it was shut. Alone at last. Mitch undressed him and as the shirt then pants came off, the Bruce’s creamy skin began to affect Mitch’s concentration. Naked, Bruce was held at arms-length for the big guy to admire. He was intoxicatingly beautiful. Little, graceful as a dancer and with perfect proportions, except for the tiny dicklet and balls which were made for big rough hands to fondle. Mitch used his hands to turn the boy; he wanted to see him from every angle. Cupping a big hand over the adorably rounded ass, he kneaded it softly, then dug big fingers in and watching as the darkened impressions slowly faded away as he let go, the flesh returned to rosy pink. `Come ere boy, sit on Daddy’s knee.’ They sat there kissing and caressing each other, till, with a pleading look to Mitch, Bruce began unbuttoning Mitch’s shirt from the top down. The luxuriant curls were gradually revealed button by button and the boy moaning and squealing as he ran his fingers through them and over the musculature beneath. Helping him out, Mitch ripped the shirt out of his drawers and off it slid. Mitch was kissing the boy on top of his silky chestnut curls and for a minute thought he was Jeff. They had plenty in common besides soft hair; innocence, boyish timidity, loving natures, sweetness and, in Jeffrey’s case, real artistic talent as well as courage. `Complicated,’ he murmured. `What, sir? `Oh, nuttin, just ramblin son.’ The naked boy standing in front of the half-dressed Trooper began struggling with the belts and heavy gear which dropped heavily to the floor. Then eager fingers popped the pants button and commenced pulling down the fly. Small, delicate hands gripped the twill by the waist band and slid the trousers down as Daddy’s third leg was gradually revealed. As he kicked his pants away, with sparkling eyes Mitchell watched his boy’s excitement when he finally saw his father’s mighty cock; that which makes a man a MAN. Boy leaning forward breathing in deeply of the potent aroma, kissing and nipping at the hot, thick hog. `Hold it son. Make daddy feel good.’ His fingers on the boy’s skin had got the blood pumping from the minute he had stripped him, and when it flopped/jumped out from the fallen drawers, it was obscenely big, half-hard and dripping, hanging most of the way to his knees. `Play wit yer daddy.’ The boy bounced and swung it splatted it way up till it swacked on the hairy belly and pulled it down hard so it pointed to the ground, all the time, kissing and licking. Sliding the skin back he kissed the drooling knob head forced his tiny lips over it. Watching enchanted, Mitch couldn’t believe he had ever managed to get that monster all the way down such a tiny, delicate throat, and started to feel the same kind of guilt he had borne after what he did to Jeffrey. He didn’t think about that for long as the little fella was indeed making him feel good. Working that tiny mouth, the boy began an excruciatingly intense blow job. 4, maybe 5 inches he managed to take smoothly before the gagging commenced at which Mitch began to pull out. Bruce looked up quizzical and disappointed. `I want to make you happy Daddy. I want to make you feel good. Force me down all the way on your penis sir,’ came out in a reverie of whispers, mumbles and intoxicated and intoxicating kisses and slurps. The Berserker in Mitch started to materialize and the big guy had to use maximum self-control to not fucking ram it to his balls. Instead, he sat down, with his horse dick reaching half way up his chest. `Sit on Daddy’s knee, Bruce. Thought about that night and you a lot since we last saw each other, and it’s gonna be different from now on.’ The kid panicked but was calmed down by more kisses and caresses as Mitch continued. `I was there that night to dismember all of you. The CA imports with flashy cars, houses, yada yada. I didn’t count on meeting you though. You captured my heart from almost the start Bruce. But before I saw you for the angel you are, I did terrible things.’ Stand up, little guy.’ Bruce stood. Mitch took one of those lovely forearms and held it next to his colossus to compare. The cock was bigger by far than the arm. `See that boy? I ain’t never gonna put that down yer throat agin.’ `But Daddy! You promised you’d seed in both holes every night we were together.’ `Hummmmm. You want yer daddy that bad Bruce?’ `You are the only thing I want.’ Fighting for self-control, `we’ll get back to that in a few boy, now fer the rest. Yer never gonna take my piss again, and I ain’t full sure about letting you clean me off neither. Them things is fer lesser men, fer women and fer fags.’ The kid started to cry. `Bruce, Bruce…be a brave boy and listen.’ Mitch knew Bruce couldn’t be brave, but soon the sniveling stopped and face half buried in the chest fur, he listened. `I will make love to my boy every night we are together. We will have intercourse like people in love, because we are in love. I will mount you and we will find joy in each other’s arms.’ Standing he went on. `To answer yer first question, I will stand or lie back and my good little gölcük escort boy will play with his daddy’s penis and make him very, very happy. So happy that Daddy will pump his seed into his sweet son’s beautiful mouth and watch as you swallow it down.’ The boy had indeed been sucking the man all through the latter part of this explanation and the sucking had Mitch almost crazy with lust. Those little hands stroking the velvet soft covering over the steel rod, the luscious tonging and soft lips…it was just too much and placing a hand on the back of Bruce’s head, he began to ejaculate into the boys mouth, ejaculating so hard that the hand was necessary to keep the boy from being blown off by the spunge which shot out in fiery jets from the sides of his lips. They hadn’t gotten much part the inside of the apartment, and Mitch had already shot a load. Pulling him up by his arms, Mitchell had him wrap his hands as far around the massive torso as they would go and sat him on his steel ram, then took him to the bed. Smoothly lowering the boy onto his back, he lay down on top. Bruce’s hands held the cock to his squeaky-clean boy-pussy and man effortlessly slid in, right to the balls. There was no pain for his little Trooper and after a few minutes for the both of them to enjoy � the one with his father inside, the father inside – the big guy began to ride. Stogie forgotten, they were kissing passionately as the inexorable Sword of God did its anointed man’s work. He stopped now and then, pulling out when he got too close � that ass was on fire and so wonderfully tight and soft at the same time. Eager hands urged him back with strokes and touches, and back deep he went, taking this boy who loved him so selflessly. The MAN in Mitch often overrode the lover, and then he would nail the boy to the bed, fucking him across it up against the headboard. Eyes flashing, his little Trooper took it and raised his butt for more. Forgetting his sweet words, the animal took full control and for the last 15 minutes � each minute equal to an inch of the weapon deep in his boy’s guts � Mitch slogged away, ending with a mighty thrust as he began to spew his semen. Butt hole clamped and milked convulsively as the big cock shot wad after wad of potent spunk deep in the boy who shot his shuddering load all over himself. They stayed that way long, till Mitch realized that 250 lb. of bull was crushing the kid. Reluctantly he unhurriedly withdrew, still stiff. When Bruce immediately went to clean his Lord with adoring lips, the big guy reached to stop him, but couldn’t do it and instead watched in a trance as the little tongue and lips darted all over the still sponging cock and up into the dripping hood. Gently pulling him up for a big, long kiss, `shower time for both of us, little fella and then I’m takin you out fer dinner.’ They showered together, little and large hands working the thick suds over each other. Both were stiff. Trying to will himself down, `later you cock-hound, later.’ As they finished dressing back in the living room, Bruce brought over his present. Mitch unwrapped a big heavy parcel. In it was a giant humidor made out of some beautiful dark jungle hardwood. The top cover was inlaid with intricate marquetry surrounding the inscription `Mitchell Tuathal Uinseann.’ Excited as a boy on Christmas Morning, Mitch opened the lid the underside of which was also inscribed `from your devoted boy, Bruce.’ Inside lay an army of gigantic cigars � running from 70 to a really impressive 125 ring, all strong, all dark, all the best that money can buy. `You little devil, ya know how to make Daddy happy with more than that fuckin irresistible body, dontcha?’ Smiling sweetly rosy-pink, this time Bruce held the door for Daddy, and out they went for dinner. Mitch took him to an unpretentious little place frequented by locals � no CA trash allowed. It was Saturday night and so was a bit rowdy and got more so as the evening progressed. All that billing and cooing in a corner table caught the attention of a few good ol’ boys perhaps too drunk to see how large a man they were preparing to hassle. Over to the table came 2 of them, `What we got here?’ `Looks like a couple of fags to me.’ `Dontcha know this is off limits to fags?’ Mitch slowly stood and put the fine 100-ring torpedo he had taken along down on the table. `Will ya excuse me Bruce? Won’t take a minute.’ The bums sniggered and strolled outside with the big guy – big enough to tower over them. Bruce watched from the window as the two heavyweights lunged at him. With a skull crushing punch to the head, Mitch laid the first one out, a second punch to the mouth finishing him off. More careful now, the second made his tactical decisions and also lunged. Right into a big fist that clamped over his ball sack and started twisting and squeezing like a vise. He too went down, howling like a stuck pig. Dropping to straddling the fuck’s shoulders, Mitchell used his head as a punching bag, calmly explaining that when a gentleman is out for dinner with another gentleman it is rude to interrupt them. Blood gushing from his mouth, the dumb ox nodded in eager agreement. Hardly mussed, Mitchell straightened himself out and rejoined Bruce. They enjoyed their dinner, the boy very, very excited at what he had seen, his little hand under the table massaging and rubbing the bulging crotch. His daddy was all man � no other man could stand against him � nor could two, no matter how Montana tough they were. Sorry he had driven them to the restaurant as a walk in the freezing cold of early November would have been fine � when he looked at his fragile consort, he knew that the truck was best. When they got back home, Mitch forgot all about Bruce’s fragile side as they made ardent love all night and into the dawn, big dick sliding in and out from hooded head to heavy balls. He’s be bushed for Sunday Mass and dinner, but, wow, it was worth it.

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