Fifty years ago something “happened” to Hank Ballard involving three horny ranch hands on a cattle trail run. Fast forward to the present-day, he is older and wiser leasing his vast acreage as an excavation site for dinosaur fossils. When he befriends Manny, one of the young team members, a friendship ensues and a ride out into the back country makes for a memorable time.
The moon and the stars where shimmering off of Ennis Lake by the time I realized where I had wandered off to. I almost didn’t recognize the area, since it had changed, and yet remained the same over the past fifty years. With the exception of the paved road nearby and some other landmarks, I probably wouldn’t have eyed the spot, the campsite, of where my life took its faithful turned, just only a few yards away from where we were camping.
The recollections of that night flooded my head again. I was horny because of it. The spontaneity of that night, the taboo of it all was the thing that still burned in my loins after all these years, in spite of the reality behind it all.
Before I knew it, I was massaging my crotch through my jeans. And a few minutes after that, I had my fly open and I was jerking off with not a care in the world to the late night lake. I was about to climb to the point of no return when I heard Manny drop down to his knees and he started sucking my cock.
“Oh, boy,” I mustered up, trying to find the words to get him to stop. But the words weren’t coming at all. His mouth felt so fucking good I was unsure if I really wanted him to let me go.
“This is wrong,” I said. When my big head outthought the little head, I plucked it out of his mouth. “What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?”
Looking up at me with shame in his eyes, Manny said nothing. He was probably too nervous, too humiliated, perhaps. “I was helping you out.”
“Helping me out,” I spat.
“Yeah,” he said rather quickly. “Last night, you mumbled in your sleep about some hole being slick for him. And tonight you said something about wanting him to suck you off.”
I tried to make sense of it all. With the help of a few misplaced words it could have made sense, remembering both of my wives said I had a nasty habit of talking in my sleep.
“I’m old enough to be your….” I let my words die.
He stuck his tongue out and licked the tip of my head, and said, “But you’re not.”
Manny took me into his mouth again. Before I could give another protest, he called me by name, and started massaging my balls in his mouth.