 Title: "The Foreman's Fancy" ===== The Virginian unbuckled his gun belt and pulled it free, dragging it across the end of his bunk. He smacked the flat of his hand across his black pants, raising dust. Peering into the small shaving mirror hanging from a wooden peg on the wall rough board wall, he saw that his hair was chalky with grit; his face and clothing were powdered with trail dust. It was time for more than a splash in his washbasin. He pulled off his black leather vest and reached for the clean towel lying on top of the small dresser, knowing he needed to strip all the way down to shower off the dirt and sweat. The Virginian knew he was lucky to foreman the Shilo Ranch. As Foreman he'd earned the rare privilege to a private room inside the common bunkhouse shared by all the hands. Plus here at Shilo their boss had seen to it that they had an outdoor shower as an alternative to the large tin tub they bathed in indoors. The Virginian moved to the rough wooden cubicle behind the bunkhouse, which was virtually surrounded by shrubbery to protect viewing by anyone wandering this direction. Heaven forbid one of the hands should shock a lady! He sat on the small bench just outside the opening, flinging his towel over one end. He bent to pull off his boots and carefully placed these on the small shelf to his right. Then he removed his dirty clothes and slung them over the large pegs protruding above the shelf. Naked at last he picked up the towel, pulled open the door and stepped inside. Stacy Grainger, the grandson of his boss, stood naked in front of him, grinning. The Virginian stared coolly, recalling that he had not noticed the tell-tale sign of clothing hanging outside which would have immediately warned him off. 'Where the hell had he put his things?' The Virginian wondered. Stacy moved a step forward, one arm raised and touching the wall of the shower, the other resting on his hip. It was a flattering pose -- and full of promise. The Virginian controlled his face with an effort. Remaining quiet, he moved to the door and pulled it open. "I think you've just made me a proposal," he said to Grainger in a near whisper. "You'd better come through when the time comes." "Don't go," Stacy called, reaching out and grabbing The Virginian's arm. "I'll come through for you right now." He pressed his naked body to The Virginian's, and the cowboy could feel himself starting to respond. "Damn it, Stacy, not here!" he almost shouted. The Virginian was quiet, listening. He forced his voice to drop. "Anybody could come in or come by. We're right out in the open. What's to stop your grandfather from catching us?" The Virginian couldn't deny to himself that it was all he could do not to grab the other man up in his arms here and now. Stacy reached a hand into The Virginian's dark hair. "Ah, that's part of the fun -- the danger involved. It's got you as hard as a rifle barrel -- and about as large," he added, pressing a leg against The Virginian's crotch. The Virginian grabbed Stacy roughly by both arms and gave him a shake. Stacy stared into his eyes with a look of total devil-may-care, which further infuriated The Virginian. The Virginian knew Stacy enjoyed the edge added by pain and any kind of challenge, but he couldn't stop his own reaction to the fair, handsome young man. Voice dangerously quiet, he spoke, his mouth inches from Stacy's face. "I should take you. Right here and right now -- against this wall. But I'll be damned if I'm going to get into trouble over one of your dares. Get the hell out now and let me have my shower. I'll meet you down by the barn after sundown. And you'd damn well better be there," he added, dropping his hands from Stacy's arms. Stacy glanced pointedly at the red marks The Virginian had left on his arms and smiled a slow, cool smile. He didn't reach to rub the obviously painful spots; instead he looked just as pointedly over at The Virginian's engorged penis. "I'll be there," he answered, his voice soft, "I'm looking forward to it," he added, grinning a wicked grin. Stacy walked by The Virginian and out the door without a backward glance. The Virginian grasped the door and slammed it shut as hard as he could, his breathing ragged with rage and rising passion. He was going to really show Stacy this time. Damned if he didn't. Grabbing up one of the nearby buckets, he poured the tepid water over his naked chest. Then he picked up the thick chunk of soap resting on a make-shift shelf and began lathering himself, pulling the chain attached to the large tank overhead to let a stream of captured rainwater gush down over his heated body. ===== Stacy gathered his own clothes from the bushes near the bunkhouse where he'd deliberately concealed them. He'd known the minute he'd seen The Virginian ride in covered with dirt that the man would clean himself up at the first opportunity. Stacy dressed swiftly, promising himself a hot bath before dinner, along with a fresh change of clothes. He wanted to be even more irresistible to The Virginian when they met up later. ===== After bathing in heated water in the large, slanting tub inside the utility room which adjoined the household kitchen, Stacy dressed himself carefully in dun-colored pants and a crisp, white shirt. He wore his Sunday boots (which gleamed from polishing) and knew he cut a fine figure -- one which was admired by women and men alike for miles around Medicine Bow. Elizabeth joined him later in the parlor, and they chatted and laughed until their grandfather finally came in. At last it was dinner time, and sundown was fast approaching. Stacy found himself glancing several times to the window behind his grandfather's head as the sky began to gleam pink, then grow ever slightly darker and darker. Dinner ended at last, and Grandfather Grainger rose and excused himself to go and work on papers in his library. "I'm off, too, Liz," Stacy said, once his grandfather had entered the library and closed the door firmly behind him. Stacy smiled at his sister. "I've got a big date," he admitted, teasingly. Elizabeth glanced knowingly at him, but didn't ask who he was meeting. She knew he'd share his experience with her later, in his own good time. Stacy always told her everything. Perhaps not every details, but far more than a young lady should ever have been told -- even by her brother. This pleased Elizabeth who adored her brother -- and was glad he trusted her so implicitly. Stacy winked mischievously at his sister and headed quickly for the door, closing it quietly behind him. No point in having his grandfather hear and ask where he was headed. Elizabeth smiled as she watched her brother go. Then she turned and headed up the stairs. ===== The sun was down; there was only a slight glow in the distant sky. Stacy moved quickly without allowing himself to show too much speed. Just in case he was being observed as he approached he didn't want to give The Virginian the impression he was frightened to be late. Nor did he care to let The Virginian think he was overwhelmed with passion. Stacy wanted to maintain his cool -- which he was already well known for (in spite of his youth). He had a certain image to protect... Just as the sky turned from pink to a pale purple, Stacy reached the barn. He could still see clearly in the dusk light -- The Virginian was leaning against the side of the barn, casually looking away at where the sun had just set. Stacy was certain The Virginian knew he was there. But it was something of a game now and they were both rigidly keeping their exterior calm. All in all their posturing was a good sign as far as Stacy was concerned. It meant this would be serious business, rather than the good-natured horseplay between two 'trail buddies' that they sometimes shared. Stacy wasn't in the mood for the friendly, easy-going Virginian tonight -- he wanted to see the darker side of the man; the dangerous side which was only rarely exposed to him. "Little late, aren't you?" The Virginian asked him, turning to gaze at Stacy. It was getting too dark now for them to see one another's faces clearly from this distance. Stacy moved closer, and The Virginian dropped an iron grip on his arm. "I guess we'd better use the hayloft tonight," The Virginian said, pulling Stacy along through the barn door. The Virginian stopped briefly, moving to light a lantern. "Bar that door," he ordered. "I've taken care of the other one." He moved away and up the ladder leading to the loft, the lantern dangling from one hand. Stacy shifted the heavy bar into place and followed The Virginian up the ladder. He could feel heat beginning to flood over him, rising from his groin and flushing his face. Stacy reached the top of the ladder and glanced over to where The Virginian was shifting a hay bale. He placed the lantern on top of the bale and without turning to face Stacy, sat to pull off his boots. The dark man rose -- still facing away from Stacy -- and began to peel off his clothes. "I hope you're not wastin' any time over there," he said in a gruff voice. Stacy sat and pulled off his own shining boots, tossing them aside. He pulled at the buttons of his shirt, popping one of them loose into the hay at his feet. Finally he stood and yanked his belt free, opening his pants and letting them drop around his ankles. Looking across at The Virginian, he was pleased to see that the cowboy was now sitting bare-assed on a hay bale, his dark eyes glued to Stacy's body as he disrobed. Stacy stepped out of his pants and moved slowly to The Virginian's side. The Virginian rose and swiftly grasped him, making Stacy draw a sharp breath of mingled surprise and excitement. Long fingers were pressing firmly into the muscled flesh of his arms; fingers which would soon be pressing insistently at other parts of his body. Stacy took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "That hungry for it, are you?" The Virginian asked, dragging Stacy down with him into a nest of loose hay. The lantern light gave off a warm, yellow glow, which bounced shadows off of the surrounding hay bales and their own bodies. Once they were against the floor of the loft, Stacy could see that The Virginian had made a surrounding wall out of bales of hay, enclosing them within a rectangle, roughly the size of a large bed. The sweet smell of the hay mingled with the musky smell of The Virginian's body, forcing Stacy to suck in a second deep breath to calm himself. His penis was already taut and high against his naked belly. Stacy wanted to grab it in his own hands and begin to stroke it, but he resisted the temptation. He knew he need only wait a bit and The Virginian would happily take care of his need. The Virginian looked Stacy up and down -- his dark eyes caressing the muscular body. He reached out a hand and ran it through Stacy's blond hair, down the side of his face, along his throat -- stopping to play with the hair on Stacy's chest. He continued to work his hand over Stacy's warm flesh, down, down; until finally he rested his hand over Stacy's hard penis. Stacy caught back a moan as The Virginian placed a large, warm hand around his shaft. The fingers gripped firmly, moving up and down, working him, milking him. "Put your arm around my neck," The Virginian ordered, and Stacy reached his arm up and around, feeling The Virginian's heat pressing in on him. The Virginian closed his eyes briefly, lost in passion. Then he forced his eyes open and stared into Stacy's blue eyes, watching his face carefully for signs of emotion. He continued to pump his hand up and down, feeling sweat gathering on his chest and back as he waited for Stacy to fill his hand with wetness... Stacy wanted it to end; he wanted it to last. He wanted to wait on and on, staring into The Virginian's taut face -- yet he needed to spurt badly. He couldn't wait to see his come splash out over The Virginian's hand -- over his body. The barn air was cooling as night truly approached. The crispness seemed refreshing to Stacy against the mingled heat of their passion. The Virginian nodded at Stacy, making a lock of black hair fall down over his forehead. Stacy moaned, his body stiffened as he let go, jerking wetness outward into the growing shadows. Stacy let go his hold on The Virginian's neck and fell back, sighing with pleasure. Drawing a breath, he looked up from under his long lashes at The Virginian. "Come fill me up," he said throatily, shifting over in the hay to offer a view of his splendidly rounded buttocks. The Virginian offered a low growl in reply and fell across him, grabbing Stacy's hips firmly in both hands as he moved quickly forward. There was one swift blur of pain, then they were both moving roughly together -- The Virginian thrusting forward, and Stacy thrusting willingly back. Stacy sank his teeth into his own forearm to stifle his moans; the muffled sounds seem to ignite The Virginian's passion even further. The Virginian was panting hard (though he managed -- as Stacy did -- to be quiet enough). They both knew what could happen if anyone heard them... Even in this act, The Virginian's compact body maneuvered with his usual controlled movements and ease; yet with just enough roughness to fulfill Stacy's cravings. The Virginian pounded into Stacy's body, driving him against the dry, poking strands of hay and the rough boards of the loft. The hay clung to his sweat-slicked body and caught in his pale hair, but Stacy didn't mind the discomfort. The Virginian was riding him like a steed that needed braking, while Stacy rode his own wild wave of sensation. He bit his arm harder, tasting blood, thrilling to the salty-sweet taste that accompanied the bolt of pain. ===== 'Damn the boy! Damn him! Ah, sweet, sweet thing.' The Virginian could still think clearly enough to know he was far beyond his normal control. Stacy maddened him; still a youth, but so much a man beyond his years. Stacy was ready to work side by side with the ranch hands, never shirking a full load. (Yet he was still learning the way of things, and gaining the necessary experience The Virginian valued in the other cowboys who labored at Shiloh...) The Virginian lost all thought; he felt the floor tilting, his heart pounding, his entire body throbbing. He muffled a groan and dug his fingers tighter as he finally finished. Below him Stacy moaned into his own flesh and his body bucked furiously. Then they collapsed together in a tangled heap. When the long moment had passed and the fog had lifted, The Virginian realized Stacy had moved from under him, and was now beside him. When he shifted to gaze at Stacy, he found the younger man lying composed, watching him intently. 'Damn boy!' Somehow Stacy always seemed a jump ahead... "Your eyes look pretty heavy," Stacy said, looking up again from under his lashes. The Virginian caught his breath; Stacy smiled. The Virginian suspected that Stacy was well aware how each of his poses looked -- that they had been long practiced for effect... "Huh," he grunted back. "Had a long day is all." Stacy nodded, agreeably. "'course you did. Go on and sleep. I'll wake you in a bit." The Virginian sighed and closed his eyes. He had a sudden thought that it wasn't wise to sleep while Stacy was still awake, but he couldn't fight his current wave of fatigue. Sensing he might have reason for regret, The Virginian drifted into a sound sleep... ===== The Virginian awoke with a start to find his arms stretched over his head, and his ankles bound together. Yanking smartly at his right hand confirmed that he was somehow restrained, though he couldn't figure exactly where and to what Stacy had fastened the rope. "Damn you, let me loose right now," he snarled, tossing his head. "You just remember who's the foreman around here." Stacy's face appeared just above his, grinning. "Maybe you should remember who's going to own this ranch someday." He prodded The Virginian in the ribs with his booted toe. The older man could see that Stacy was once again fully dressed. The Virginian cursed under his breath, and struggled against the ropes holding his arms. He knew it was pointless, but somehow couldn't quite stop himself. Stacy laughed quietly. "Done yet?" he taunted in his deep, sultry voice. "Why don't you settle down and see exactly what I want? Maybe you won't want to fight me." The Virginian cursed again softly before calming himself. It was unlike him to show his anger this way; he rarely allowed himself to curse or to rage. Something about Stacy Grainger brought out this dark, rough side of him; and he knew Stacy liked and encouraged it. "What do you want?" he asked, trying to curb the annoyance in his tone. "Make me a promise, and I'll set you loose right now," Stacy answered, his voice pure silk. The Virginian's stare was black, but Stacy stared back, undaunted. "Okay. What's the promise?" "Next time we go up to the line shack, it'll be just you and me. And I get to have my way with you. Anything I want." The Virginian studied the youth intently. Stacy must have been planning something like this for some time now. Had probably been waiting to 'seduce' him on a day when he would hopefully be tired enough to drop off as he had. Must want this particular encounter pretty bad, for some reason... "Don't I please you, Stacy? Don't you get what you need from me?" Stacy smiled, and ran a hand through The Virginian's sweat-damp hair. "Sure you do. You know I like it. Just want something different. Want to show you what I know." The Virginian glared up at Stacy. "And how'd you learn what you want to 'show' me, anyway?" "Never you mind. Just let me. Say you will." "What if I say that now, but go back on it later?" Stacy shook his head, chuckling. "You never go back on your word. I know you. You say it, you'll do it." "But this is forcing me. Maybe I don't think it's fair." "No. But you know what they say about 'all being fair,' don't you?" The Virginian closed his eyes and sighed. "Okay. Next trip you make with me. But we get the work done first, mind you. And done right -- no matter how long it takes. Then you get your night with me. You'd better enjoy it. I don't know how mad at you I'll be after." Stacy patted his arm. "You'll love it so damn much you'll come back for more later on. But you have to say it now -- anything I want. Even if it means hog-tying you and leaving you lying naked while I pleasure myself." "Whatever you say. But I'll have my day, boy." "That's just the point, Virginian. I'm no boy -- and I plan to show you. And you aren't just 'the foreman' or the 'trail boss,' having your way with one of the hands. Say," he added, grinning, "Do you have your way with Trampas?" "You're just asking for trouble, Stacy. Tomorrow you go back to working for me, and I plan to work your ass off." Stacy laughed aloud. "You sure don't want to waste my ass -- do you?" He reached up and cut the ropes holding The Virginian's arms, then leaned down and cut the rope around his ankles. The Virginian caught the youth in his arms, and pulled him down over him, kissing him roughly. When he finally pulled away, Stacy was staring wide-eyed and gasping at him. "I thought you never kissed men," he said, blinking. The Virginian shrugged. "I thought I didn't. I guess you're different." "I sure hope so." "You do stir me, Stacy. Now get the hell back up to the house, before your Grandfather comes looking for you. There'll be another day." "Damn right. It had sure better be soon, too." The Virginian rose, brushing off hay. He moved quickly to his clothes and began to dress. Finally he moved to the ladder without a backward glance at Stacy. He climbed swiftly down, the lantern again in his hand. But he did glance over, just once, to make sure Stacy was moving without difficulty in the darkness. "Virginian?" He turned back and Stacy moved close to him. He could smell the heady musk and sweat of the youth, and felt himself rousing again. 'Damn!' He had to get the boy back up to the house right now, or there'd be trouble for certain... "What?" "I'm not your future boss, and you're not the foreman. I'm your man, if you'll have me." They closed tightly and kissed again, The Virginian's tongue invading Stacy's mouth, his fingers digging into Stacy's back. Stacy threw one arm around The Virginian's neck, and was rewarded with a low, throaty moan -- just before The Virginian pulled back. "Get going. We'll talk about this another time. I am the foreman, Stacy -- and don't you forget it. And someday your Grandfather will pass on -- and you will be my boss. And I won't forget that. But I guess it doesn't matter a damn when we're not working Shiloh, now does it? Maybe you already are my man, anyway." The Virginian shifted the bar and opened the barn door, cracking the door just wide enough for the two of them to exit. He shut the door behind him, and they walked side by side in the shadows. The Virginian could still make out Stacy's features in the glow from the lantern swinging from his hand. The youth was grinning widely. "I'm gonna be plenty enough man for you, you'll see. Just give me half a chance." The Virginian paused to look into Stacy's face, longing to put his hands in Stacy's pale hair... "I must be crazy, but it looks like I'm already doing just that. If your Grandfather gets wind of this, it'll mean my job. And he'd probably send you off to some military academy where they could make a 'real' man of you." "Guess it's a chance we'll have to take." "Well, I suppose so. Still, we don't have to be crazy. Use some common sense, Stacy -- you hear me?" Stacy nodded, his eyes dreamy. "I will. But you're the expert on common sense. Maybe you'd better whip me next time, just to keep me on my toes." "Don't tempt me. You're just asking for it!" His voice was rough but his eyes were twinkling. Stacy laughed while The Virginian mock-glared before finally joining in the laughter. "Hurry up," he urged. "We have a hard day's work ahead of us." Stacy hugged The Virginian impulsively before turning on his heels and dashing toward the house. "Maybe I'm the one who needs a whipping," The Virginian whispered to himself. "Whip some sense into my head for ever letting that boy into my arms in the first place." He stood to watch Stacy enter the Grainger home before turning and heading back to the bunkhouse. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. The End |