Chapter 8
I was exhausted after the trip to Crescent Point. It was fortunate that both Mom and Liv were also tired and a bit tender for a day or two, because it gave me a chance to rest and focus on my responsibilities with the ranch. Of course, the first order of business was to call Uncle Rob and let him know about the freshly killed cow, and then notify the authorities.
The Sheriff came out to look at the site, as did members of the livestock association. Uncle Rob and I took them to see the other two carcasses as well, so they could see those sites firsthand. As things often go, the Sheriff opened a file on the matter, but admitted there was little chance of anything else being done. His office lacked the manpower and funding to do much more than collect evidence. He took some pictures and statements from both of us, but that was it.
Jim Conner, with the livestock association, said they would notify the members and ask them to keep watch, but that was about all that they could do. Uncle Rob, Mom, and I talked in his office and decided that it would be best to pull the cattle down off the lease a few weeks early this year and hope that the hay would last through the winter ahead.
On the drive home from the association office, Mom and I made our own plans for getting ready for the roundup. The road to our place led north from town, along the west side of Beaver Creek. Fall had arrived, and most of the leaves of the cottonwood and ash trees had turned their usual bright yellow, and many were just beginning to drop. Their yellow canopy was offset by the colorful rainbow of scarlet, tangerine, and burgundy in the underbrush below.
“Jim Bennet and his boy should be available to ride for us in a couple of weeks,” Mom said from her seat on the passenger side of the truck. I know she was dying to slide over and sit beside me as we drove, but we’d both agreed that would be too risky if someone saw us driving down the road all cuddled up like that.
“Yeah, Mark did a decent job last Spring,” I replied. “He’s finally grown into those big feet of his and sits a horse pretty well. His friend, Mic Fordham, might be interested too. If we brought him in, you could probably hang back with Aunt Beth and Marla and get lunch ready?
Mom’s head swiveled, and I knew instantly that I’d said something wrong. “Think about that again, mister. Have I ever not ridden circle with the crew?” she asked.
Circle is what we call the circular sweep that the riders take through the lease to gather the cattle when it’s time to gather them up for branding or to pull them in off the range for winter. We start out at sunrise and do our best to have them all in by early afternoon. I really should have known better than to propose that Mom stay behind. There was nothing she loved more than getting up early and riding the lease, well… almost nothing, but I didn’t know that until just recently.
“Yes, Ma’am, No Ma’am,” I replied respectfully. “Poncho and I would be lost without you.”
“Good, glad we got that settled,” she answered. “Are the fences in the lower pastures ready for them?”
“They are,” I replied, “I just need to get the old wire and a few posts picked up from one of the repairs.”
“Wanna do that on our way home?” she asked.
I looked over at her, curious that she wanted to drive down to the lower fields rather than go straight home. She ignored my look and pretended to be studying the countryside. We approached the gate that we’d have to pass through to get there, and I pulled into the turn-off. Mom hopped right out and leaned into the gatepost, pulling it open. She pulled it aside, I drove through, and she closed it behind us.
“Looks like you’re, uh, back to feeling spry?” I said as she crawled back into the cab and slid all the way over across the seat next to me.
“You might say that,” she said as she laid her left hand on the inside of my right thigh. “Now, where are these posts at?” I smiled and put my right arm around her shoulders as I drove down across the field toward the trees in the bottomland below. The ground became uneven as we approached the place where I’d finished the repair the day before. The truck's side-to-side motion as we crossed the area made us rock against each other.
The rocking truck gave Mom an excuse to press into me and slide her hand a bit higher up to hold on. I, in turn, reached to hold her a bit more snugly, my right hand finding a most convenient handle in the warm underside of her right tit. We were both well aware that we were copping feels of each other, but you get your foreplay in when and where you can on the ranch.
We pulled up to the spot where I’d done the repair, but by then, I’d decided we had something to take care of before we loaded up the old fencing materials. “I think we’d better check a couple of things out back there in the tree line before we pick this stuff up,” I said.
A slight smile appeared on Mom’s lips. “Sounds good,” she replied with a tightness in her voice.
I pulled in behind a mixed stand of cottonwood and ash trees. The different varieties of underbrush created a resplendent wall of bright colors that took us out of sight of the entire world. I parked the truck, and Mom’s hand had moved up to where it was almost touching my balls through my jeans. She had begun gently massaging my thigh. “You think you’re ready for this?” I asked.
Mom nodded and slid her hand up over my cock. “Been ready.”
I reached down and took her hand off, moving it back to where it was before the bumps. “We’ll just see about that, then,” I said with a challenging smirk. I opened my door and stepped out of the truck. “Let’s see what we’ve got out here.” The weather had held, so the temperature was still really quite comfortable.
The amber grass was tall in the hidden areas along the creek. Moisture from the creek and the intermittent shade from the trees made for better growing conditions during the heat of the summer. The first fallen leaves had also begun to accumulate on the ground. The combination produced a great site for grazing your cattle, but not so good for fucking your mother.
I reached back into the truck for my bedroll. I hadn’t washed it since Liv, and I had fucked on it a few days back, and could only hope that it didn’t still reek of our sex from that day. I tossed the bedding into the empty truck bed and helped Mom crawl up in to get things ready. It didn’t take long before she had the pad down and the sleeping bag spread out over it. After that, I handed her the two small pillows.
Once she had everything in place, she took her boots off, knelt in the middle, and turned toward me. It was unspoken, but we both recognized that in that moment, she had stopped being Mom and had become Abby. And, Abby had needs.
I kicked my boots off before I climbed up and walked forward on my knees toward her. “You sure?” I asked one last time. She pressed her lips up against mine and wrapped her arms around me in response. I let her continue for a few moments, then pushed her back. As we separated, I could see lust now filling her eyes.
“Shirt,” I said, flipping my fingers up to let her know I wanted her t-shirt off. She peeled it upward without hesitation, sending her long blonde hair into disarray as she pulled it through the neck hole. She started to reach back for her bra clasp, but hesitated when she saw me squint. Her arms lowered, and she waited with her eyes cast uncomfortably to the side, letting me admire her submissive, mature beauty.
“Look at me, Abby,” I told her.
Her head snapped up when I used her name. Her eyes widened, and goosebumps rose on her arms. She stared at me apprehensively, unsure how to react. “Take your bra off, Abby,” I used her name again, not wanting to give her a chance to decide how she felt about it. Her eyes dipped, but her hands obediently snaked behind her back. A couple of seconds later, they came forward again, and her bra followed, peeling away from her beautiful tits.
I held my hand out, and she draped the plain-looking garment over my palm. I immediately gave it a toss behind her to the front corner of the truck bed. She turned to see where they went, then turned back to face me. Her nipples, which already stood out like a pair of thimbles on her full tits, waggled as she did. She had a look like she knew I’d be on them in a second, and I could see her bracing for it.
I didn’t let her down. I brought both hands up, one on each nipple, and crabbed one between each thumb and forefinger. “Unnnh!” she responded immediately. They were stiffer than I expected, providing me with two stubby, rigid handles to latch onto. She sat back on her heels and writhed as pain and pleasure flooded her chest. I felt heat and hardness flood into my cock.
“Look at these things,” I told her, stretching them upward so she could see. She groaned and, of course, her eyes clamped shut even tighter. I told her again, “Look at them, Abby. Look at how hard your nipples are.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, creating two narrow slits that she strained to see through. She eyed her chest where her turgid nipples remained trapped between my thumbs and forefingers. She was groaning between her rapid panting. “You like them being handled like this, don’t you?” I asked.
She just kept panting and groaning as she watched my fingers maintain their tension on her hard nubs. “Answer me, Abby. You like this; I know you do. Tell me that you like your nipples stretched like this.” I gave them an extra pull.
“AHHH! FUCK!” she snapped. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
“Tell me!”
Unh, Yesss! Fuck… Yesss!”
“Good girl!” I crooned, then rewarded her by letting go of her left one and sucking it into my mouth and caressing it with my tongue.
“Unnnh! Uhhh, Uh, Uh, Uh,” she sang back to me as her body contorted with the abrupt change in sensations. I used very little suction and gently slid my wet tongue over her rudely awakened nub of flesh while I eased up my tugging on her right one. Her groans quieted, and her relieved panting told me she was allowing herself to enjoy my actions.
I dropped my right hand and undid the button of her pants, slid her zipper down, and pressed the denim apart. I lifted my mouth off her tit, “Get up on your knees,” I said. “I want a better look at you.”
She sat there for a moment, looking a bit surprised at my direction. “Up,” I repeated, flipping my fingers, showing her the direction I wanted her to move.
My command finally registered, and my beautiful mother raised her butt up off her heels and knelt bare-chested in front of me, her nipples already glowing red like two brilliant berries that had so far survived the flocks of migrating Waxwings. Her golden hair lifted in the breeze, keeping rhythm with the flutter of the yellow leaves. Her open jeans offered up a flash of lace and an invitation.
“God, you’re beautiful like this,”
Before she could respond, I reached forward and brusquely pulled her jeans down over her ass to her knees, exposing her panties and well-formed thighs. Her only reaction was to place her hands on my shoulders to allow me to do what I wanted without being tipped over. I sat back on my own heels now, making her wait while I admired her.
Her eyes gave away her anxiety, first giving me a questioning look, then scanning the surrounding clearing, then back to me again. She was nervous, but I marveled at how alive she looked, like a whitetail doe pausing on her approach to a watering hole, cautious, but alive with anticipation for what was to come.
I reached up to tease her nipples again with my right hand. She sucked air past her teeth but didn’t move to stop me. I was gentle. I had abused them to a level of sensitivity that I knew she enjoyed. From here, it was just a matter of metering out that enjoyment. I fondled them, rolling them lightly between my fingers, watching her mouth slip open from the complex and exquisite confusion of pleasure and pain. Her eyes fluttered closed, which allowed me to lean forward and slip the fingers of my left hand against the wet crotch of her panties.
Her head jerked backward in surprise, but her body didn’t retreat with it. She let me continue. She was getting what she came for, what she’d asked for, in so many words. I knew she wanted more and wasn’t going to run from it, but it was time that she became more specific about what she wanted. I rose up on my left knee and placed my right foot on the truck bed behind her, near her left foot.
“You like being handled, don’t you, Abby?” I gave her nipples one last hard tweak and moved my right hand to crudely grope her panty-covered ass. “And you like it a little rough, don’t you?”
She groaned, like I had just revealed her darkest, dirtiest secret.
Not hearing an answer, I gave her ass a sharp swat on her right cheek. “I asked a question, Abby. You like being handled hard, don’t you?” I gave her another on her left, then cupped and squeezed her meaty flesh there, allowing my fingers to press deeply as I did.
“Eeeet! Ahhhh!” she yelped and whined, then, as my fingers kneaded her flesh, eventually sliding in along her groove from the rear, she finally confessed. “Yesss, unnnnnh, ohh,” She put her left hand on my right shoulder and tipped forward as she pressed her ass back, trying to meet my fingers with her needy clit. Instead of giving her that satisfaction yet, I stopped when my fingers were pressing into the saturated sink her panties created as they covered her wet hole.
Her awkward position, leaning forward from her knees as she tried to hump herself against my fingers, caused her tits to jut forward, tempting me with their waggle every time her hips rocked back. Without warning, I gave each of her nipples a quick, light swat. “Straighten up, hands down.” I reached to remove her hand from my shoulder, but she had already jerked it away to cover her stinging tits.
“UNNH!” she yelped again in complete shock. Her eyes went wide in disbelief, but I moved quickly to distract her by sliding my right hand up to her clit. I pushed her hands down with my left hand, then pressed my open palm against her tits to straighten her. Once she was aligned, I took her by the chin and kissed her hard. She opened her mouth and let my tongue invade her while she breathed through her nose.
I pulled my lips away, leaving them pressed against her cheek. “Hard, like that?” I asked.
“Yessss,” she hissed again.
I attacked her clit from the front, pressing my fingers into her split through her panties, grinding my fingertips against her hard nub.
“Uunnghhhh!” she grunted, still not retreating as I continued my aggressive approach.
“Like that?” I asked again. I honestly did want to see how far we would take it.
She gave three hard pants through her teeth, reeling from the abuse, then broke. “Unngh! Yessss, fuck, fuck yessss.”
Her hips were dancing and grinding, making small twists away to lessen the pressure from my fingers, then coming back, seeking it. I continued for a while, letting her briefly find a rhythm, then used both hands to yank down her panties, taking three or four hard tugs to get them down her thighs to her knees.
I returned both hands to her pussy, the fingers of my left mashing her clit while those on my right now slipped inside her from the rear. “Oh, oh, oh,” her gasps were staccato, sounding like the barking of a small dog. Her hole was slick and swollen by now, and my hands slipped in and over her without resistance.
I watched her closely, and as soon as she seemed to get past the initial shock and try to establish her own tempo in our grinding, I stopped and pressed her backward. “On your back. Grab those pillows and lie down.”
“Hrrnnn!” She growled, frustrated that we weren’t continuing, but she still complied, rolling first to her side, as best her pants would allow, then onto her back. I grabbed the cuffs of her pants and shucked them completely off, then snatched her panties off her legs, throwing both into the same corner as her shirt and bra.
“Spread,” I said, though I really didn’t need to. I’d placed my hands inside her knees, and her legs literally fell apart, allowing me to slide my hands up her thighs until they came to the silky skin just a few inches below her snatch. I eased my fingers up to toy with the lower tendrils of her pubic hair. I hadn’t planned on saying it, because I had always been a fan of her natural bush, but the words, “I want this shaved the next time I see it,” rolled off my...
