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Getting the Light Right
I drove up the river canyon, through the main gate of the ranch, locking it behind me, just like Bill had told me to do. Frost still glinted in the low morning light on the sagebrush and the willows along the riverbank. There was still a bit of snow high up in the rimrock, left over from last week's first snow of the season.
The light along the river caught my eye, and I pulled over, grabbing my camera and walked along the riverbank, catching some nice reflections off the water, and the color of the last few leaves clinging to the willows and aspens. The morning breeze coming down river made me thankful for my heavy denim jacket, and the thermal undershirt I'd thrown on, back at the motel, now three hours behind me.
It was going to be a great week here at the Henderson Ranch. I'd signed up for a week as a guest, dedicating myself to some time to do some serious photography, and get a sense of the beauty of this area. Deer hunting season had ended yesterday, and Bill Henderson had assured me I'd have all the peace and quiet I needed to explore the ranch, and get some great pictures of this area. It was a popular area for hunters, and the ranch guest cabins were usually booked solid for hunting season.
Now, with the cattle moved down to their winter range, I'd really have the place to myself, except for Bill, who promised to keep me well fed during my week here. He had to get the ranch ready for winter, after hunting season was over, and said he wouldn't mind some company.
I'd taken some pictures of Bill and the ranch last year, when I was working with an outdoor writer, doing a feature on the area for a wildlife magazine. We'd hit it off, and Bill invited me to come to the ranch sometime, and spend some time to do some nature photography and enjoy the quiet and solitude.
I took my time by the river, getting some great shots of the last of the fall foliage, and a big red tailed hawk, posing for me on an old snag hanging over the river. The quiet seeped into my soul, with only the sounds of the cold wind, and a few passing geese flying low over the river softly honking at me to keep me company.
When I pulled up to the main ranch house, the place was deserted. A note on the door addressed to me told me to make myself at home. Bill was up the river a couple of miles, fixing the fence at the hot springs.
"If you could make a pot of coffee, and bring me a thermos, I'd be much obliged," the note said.
I fired up the gas stove, and soon had the coffee perking, as I settled in, putting my bag in the back bedroom. I took a moment to admire the big living room, with its peeled log beams, the stone fireplace, and the view down the river.
I drove the gravel road up a side canyon, to where Bill had told me to find him and the hot springs. I'd made two thermoses of coffee, as I was going to need my own supply of the hot stuff to keep me warm in this chilly wind, especially if I was going to keep my hands warm enough to focus my lens and click my shutter.
Bill's pickup was parked at the end of the road, and I found him stretching some barbed wire on a fence nearby.
"Almost done," he said. "Just need to tighten these wires on this run of the fence, and run one new wire on top. Its only about fifty yards long."
I grabbed a hammer and some staples, and put on a pair of gloves Bill handed me. A half hour later, with me working up a bit of a sweat despite the cold wind, we were done.
"Thanks. That saved me a bunch of time," Bill said, as he took off his thick leather gloves and gave me a hearty handshake.
"I'm glad you made it," Bill said. "Let's get that coffee and I'll show you the hot springs. I'm chilled to the bone and we might as well go have a soak and warm up."
We walked up a trail, going further up the creek, and around a large boulder, until we came to a rock pool next to the creek, with a weathered plank deck, and some rock steps leading into the pool. A pipe ran over one end, a small stream of water pouring out into the pool. Whisps of steam rose over the hot water.
"It's 103 degrees, year round," Bill said, as we stood on the gray, weather-cracked wood decking. Bill started shucking his hat and coat, and then began stripping off his shirt and boots.
"Better get out of your clothes and into the water," Bill said, chuckling. "We can drink our coffee while we soak."
"I didn't bring a swim suit," I said.
"Hell, neither did I. Guess we'll have to skinny dip," Bill said, his chuckling growing into a soft laugh. "It's one of the few rules we have around here. Besides, coffee always tastes better naked."
I got a good look at Bill's muscular chest, as he pulled off his thick undershirt. His chest, arms, and back still deeply tanned from a summer of ranching.
I pulled off my clothes, too, the cold wind chilling the sweat that had built up on my chest and armpits from my first attempt at fence building. I pulled off my hiking boots and socks, just in time to watch Bill strip off his jeans and shorts, giving me a nice view of his lean, tight butt cheeks, and his dangling balls and cock, nestled in a thick bush of thick fur.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a pint of whiskey.
"It gets cold around here," he laughed. "I always carry plenty of anti freeze. Besides, I'm Irish and I only drink Irish coffee with my friends."
Bill grabbed one of the thermoses and walked to the end of the wood decking, and down the rock steps into the steam and the warmth of the water.
I got another look at Bill's crotch, as he set down the thermos and the whiskey, turning to me, wearing nothing but a big smile.
"I'm all yours for the week," he chuckled. "And, you better bring that other thermos. I think we'll be here for a while."
Bill sank up to his neck in the hot water, and I soon joined him, the water feeling almost painful for a few moments, as the heat took away the iciness of my sweaty chest and armpits, chilled even more by the brisk wind on my now naked body, as I stripped off my clothes and headed towards the pool, and the naked cowboy up to his neck in the steaming water.
"if you move over here, there's a nice submerged bench to sit on, and you'll be closer to the coffee and whiskey," Bill said, as he grabbed two big mugs off some iron hooks that had been grouted into the stonework above the pool, and filled them with steaming hot coffee. He cracked open the pint of whiskey and poured a good sized dollop of booze into each mug.
I scooted over next to Bill, catching a glimpse of his cock floating above his furry balls. My own cock thickened a bit at the sight, and the idea of sitting buck naked next to a cowboy in some out of the way hot springs, just the two of us.
"Here's to a good week of relaxing, and getting to know each other," he said, as he handed me my mug.
The Irish coffee was smooth and hot on my tongue, and warmed my belly as much as the hot springs soaked into my chilled body, and relaxed the muscles I'd worked while helping Bill with the fence.
We sat there, not saying a word, soaking up the water and the quiet of the creek canyon, the nearest soul a good twenty miles away, the rest of Bill's crew, already settled into the ranch's winter quarters.
We sat up, finally, leaning back on the stone wall above the water, now only waist deep in the hot spring. Heavy clouds of steam poured off of our chests and backs, our bodies finally warmed up from the mineral springs and the Irish coffee.
"Time to cool off a bit," Bill said. "And, time for a refill on the Irish."
He reached for the thermos and the pint, refilling our mugs, the muscles on his lean body flexing, giving me another eyeful of his hard body. I could see the thick mat of chest hair that enveloped his taut, reddish nipples, and the long, thick trail of fur that led down to his crotch. I felt my cock thicken a bit, my balls rising a bit, thinking of how I would dream Bill had caressed and fondled them, me I spraying his face with my jism, as I moaned his name.
"It's good that you're finally here," Bill said, his voice adding a new layer to the sounds of the creek, and the breeze in the nearby aspen grove.
We sipped our second cup, and I silently pointed out the eagle flying high above the canyon rim, circling the river canyon. Bill nodded, his face lighting up as we sat there, letting the still chilly breeze cool us a bit. The midday sun glinted on the beads of water soaking Bill's chest hair, and the droplets of steam condensed in his beard.
"I've missed you, missed you a lot, after the conference," Bill said. "There was more I wanted to say that night, and do. I just, well, I got shy, and I chickened out."
I remembered the conference well, Bill's first time at the outdoor writers and photographers conference I usually go to. He'd liked the article and the photos we did for him, and wanted to learn how to promote his ranch as a B and B, a place for serious writers and photographers.
We'd had dinner together, and then went to the hotel bar for a few drinks. We'd found out we were both gay, and we got close to taking the evening to the next step. But, some other guys from the conference joined us at our table, and, well, nothing happened. I'd wanted to get back together with him, really get to know him. He did, too, at least he told me that when he e-mailed me.
It wasn't the only reason for this trip, but it was the best one. He'd been a lot of fun that night, and I wanted to see if there was more for us than just one night's talk in a hotel bar, in some big city.
"Yeah, I've missed you, too," I said, my hand moving up against his thigh, feeling his muscles and the coarse hair against his skin. I slid up, finding his cock underneath the surface, hot and slippery in my hand, feeling him harden a bit at my touch.
Bill leaned back, pushing his chest out, closing his eyes, and sighed.
"We have all the time in the world, you and me. Just us in this place, to do whatever we want," he said, then looking deep into my eyes.
I held him then, feeling him harden in my hand, my fingers slowly stroking him, his hotness growing longer, thicker. He sighed, again, opening his thighs wider, inviting me to explore him further, to pleasure him, all of him, in every way.
He moved higher up the stone steps, the steamy water of the springs dripping off of his furry chest, and thick, swollen nipples, dripping down his hard belly, and the thick fur above his now half hard cock, dripping off of the tangled fur covering his balls.
My lips soon found the tender skin of his thighs, and I moved up, my nose pulled tight by his hand behind my head, until my lips touched his thick shaft, until I moved up and took him into my mouth, my lips sliding over his wet cock tip, until I began to dance on him, his hips thrusting rhythmically against my face.
One hand cupped and fondled his swollen, full balls, my fingers caressing and moving first one and then another ball beneath his thick, hairy scrotum, one finger slowly moving along the seam behind his balls towards his hole, feeling his seed beginning to build towards an explosion.
My other hand moved up through the hair of his hard belly, as I felt his breath quicken, and begin to come in quick pants and gasps, until I could run my fingers across his meaty chest, finding a hardening nipple to tease, his sweat beginning to build up under his fur, the sweat of my lover, my man. Underneath my fingers, I felt the coarse hair of his chest, and the strong beat of his heart, stronger with every journey my lips made sliding up and down his cock, bringing him to his inevitable explosion in my mouth. Already I could taste him, feel the slickness of his precum, feel his balls rise in their hairy sack, as he danced closer and closer to his climax.
Harder and harder he pulled me down and up his cock, my whiskers snagging in his thick jungle of hair nesting around his cock and his heavy balls, my nose filled with the mustiness and spice of his crotch, of the first hint of his seed, about ready to drench us both with his spewings. His chest and armpits now soaked with his lust sweat, me smelling every bit of him, as he quietly moaned my name, keeping time with my sucking and his thrusting.
The wind brought its own smells, of steam and creek water, and sagebrush and juniper, and the cold, dryness of the river canyon, as his thrusts shortened, harder and shorter, hard, short, until he cried out, shooting the first explosion of his seed, soaking my mouth, and oozing down my beard, dripping onto my chest, mingling with my own sweat.
His balls throbbed, then slowly loosened in their sack, until my hand could slide easily through the sweaty fur of his ball sack, until I could slide back, under him, and finding, once again, his sweat-slick entrance to his hole.
Bill moaned again, this time softly, as I danced around his hole, palming his balls, and taking one last wet, cum-slick slide up and down his spent cock.
Bill pulled me up, my mouth finally leaving his furry crotch and the pool of his pearly seed, soaking his thick bush. I laid my head on his still gasping chest, getting a noseful of his spicy sweat soaking his armpits and the forest of curls splayed between his nipples.
His breathing slowed then, as his hand began to play with my nipples, tweaking and caressing them, until I began aching for more, for being with him, for my my own climax.
He gently pushed me over onto my back, as his mouth and hands began to explore every inch of me. His tongue and lips explored my own lips and slid down to my neck, my eager nipples, armpits, and down, down to my belly.
His other hand gently pushed apart my thighs, and I eagerly opened myself to his explorations of my cock and balls, and my hole. My cock pulsed hard with desire, with lust, my cum rising in my balls, eager to spew, yet, Bill waited, slowing down his attentions, his tasting and fondling of every part of me.
Finally, his lips and his tongue began their dance along the shaft of my manhood, his callused fingers and hands pulling and stroking my ball sack, and dancing around my hole, my hips responding to this dance with an age old rhythm of their own, as I whispered his name, again and again.
His fingers entered me, just as the first rope of my seed exploded out of my cock, my fingers gripping his shoulder, my voice crying out to God. Again, and again, I erupted, my hips rocking hard against him, until I lay spent and satisfied in his arms.
Bill laughed, stroking one last dollop of my seed along his fingers, wiping it across my mustache, letting me taste myself with my tongue, our eyes meeting, agreeing on the pleasures we'd given each other, and the joys that lay ahead.
In a few minutes, we were once again neck deep in the pool, laughing and grinning. Lovers now, the tension of figuring out who we were with each other now gone, gone with the soaking away of the strands of Bill's cum and our lustful sweat, the hot water bringing, once again, a deep feeling of total peace.
He poured us another round of coffee, and chuckled again as he added a bit more of the Irish.
We sipped our coffee, watching a blue jay scrounge a nearby juniper for some food. The wind died down a bit, giving some warmth to the early afternoon sun.
Later that afternoon, as the sun began to set behind the canyon rimrock, after we again took each other to another climb to ecstasy on the deck, sweating and cumming hard, new lovers eager to please each other once again, we headed back to the house, stopping to take some pictures of the setting sun, and the golden aspens along the river, and pictures, too, of my new lover, in the soft late afternoon light.
The light, it was just right, just perfect, just like the day.
Oregon Bear March, 2014