Stonegate Stables - 3. Chapter 3

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and I was unsaddling Zena in my own barn at 6:15. It was warm, so I stopped at the pool and stripped, diving in the deep end, and swimming a few laps to wash off the grunge of the day. I eventually surfaced at the shallow end right into a big droopy dick and balls dangling over the edge of the pool. Dylan was laughing down at me as I put my hands on his knees, and pulled myself up when he leaned forward to kiss me, ruffling my wet hair.

Dylan O'Hara is all Irish, pale skin, lots of freckles and reddish brown hair. He's a gym rat and looks it, 190 at 5'11", well-muscled but not grotesque. He’s a 3rd cousin twice removed or something, a couple months younger than me, and we’ve been best pals since we were kids. We explored each other’s bodies thoroughly one long, hot August when we were fifteen and our families had taken adjoining cabins on a lake. That was the summer we both realized we liked boys, and that soft pink cock in front of my face represented a lot of firsts for me. The feelings that surged through me when I first slid it into my mouth one night in the bottom of a beached rowboat were overwhelming. Physically it was unbelievably arousing. The smell and taste and feel of him blotted everything else from my mind and I came in my shorts while I was still sucking him. Emotionally it was a watershed moment for me. It was the first time in my life that I’d felt completely right with myself. All the confusing, murky signals my mind and body had been sending me for the past few years lined up like ducks in a shooting gallery, and I finally understood. Dylan will always hold a special place in my heart - you never forget your first.

“I brought stuff for burgers,” he said, slipping into the water next to me. He wrapped an arm around my chest from behind, and pushed off across the pool on his back, towing me along between his legs, his dick bobbing against my back. We swam and groped and dunked each other for an hour, playing like we were still kids. We know one another inside out, and I’m more comfortable with him than anyone I know.

After a while I hopped out to turn on the grill and came back to sit on the pool steps. He dog paddled over between my knees and wrapped his arms around my waist, taking my soft cock into his mouth. I leaned back on my hands while he worked me up to a full erection before coming to his knees a couple steps below me and sucking me to orgasm, following his mouth up and down my shaft with his hand. Since we’ve been trading blow jobs for fifteen years, he knows what I like, and it didn’t take long. As he raised his wet mouth from my softening dick, I kissed him, running my tongue around his lips. “Mmmmm,” I purred, hugging him. “I’ll return the favor for dessert.”

We grilled burgers, ate naked by the pool - I seem to eat an awful lot of meals with no clothes on - and enjoyed the sunset over the tree line beyond my pasture. Did I mention I love living here? When it was almost dark we gathered up the leftovers and went inside. Dylan had brought chocolate éclairs from the deli across the road, so we ate them snuggled up on the sofa in the den, watching Greta Garbo be elegant and mysterious in Grand Hotel. I was propped on my side up against one arm of the couch, and Dylan was lying in front of me, nestled into my crotch, my soft dick wedged into the crack of his butt. He comes over one or two nights a week, and we usually end up just like this, fooling around on the couch while we watch TV. I was just licking the last of the éclairs from his fingers, and thinking about licking dessert number two when I heard the soft ding of the security system. I clicked the mike for the gate. “Yeah?”

“Sean?” I heard Adam's cultured voice. “Got room for one more?”

“Sure,” I chuckled, clicking the gate and front door locks for him.

“Back here in the den,” I called when I heard him come in the front door. Adam Christopher Somerset is the second son of a Pennsylvania coal baron, and the nicest rich person I know. He positively drips money, from the top of his well-styled dirty blond hair to the toes of his Crockett & Jones oxfords, but you could dress him from the Salvation Army and it wouldn’t matter. He’s just a good guy, and he can ride a horse like no one else. He's the leading money winner on the circuit right now, at age 24, and there’s an Olympic gold medal tacked to his horse’s stall door back at the barn. And he rides out of Stonegate - lucky us. He's one of the best-looking men I know. Individually his features are unremarkable - dark blond hair that waves softly back off his face, hazel eyes that hold your gaze, a clean shaven jaw framing a wide mouth that smiles easily. But all together, he captures your attention the minute he enters the room.

He peeked into the den, grinned when he saw Dylan and me, and dropped his clothes at the door. He knelt in front of Dylan, grabbed his dick and kissed him, reaching up to squeeze my shoulder with his other hand. He’s very fond of Dylan and I’ve often thought they’d be good for each other in a permanent sort of way, but nothing has come of it in the five years since I introduced them. When he finished greeting Dylan, he pulled me down for a kiss, and we sort of slid to the floor in a pile. When we got sorted out, Adam was leaning against the couch, Dylan was straddling his thighs facing him, and I was on my side with my head in their laps. It turned out to be a good set up and we pursued it for quite a while.

I couldn’t fit both their dicks in my mouth at the same time, so I held them together and ran my tongue up one side and down the other, lingering at the top to lick and suck. The sound of them kissing above me was hard to ignore, and occasionally I went up to join them. I was curled around Dylan, who had a hand in my crotch, stroking me, rolling my nuts in his palm, and slipping a finger back now and then to give my asshole a little poke, just enough to get my attention.

Eventually Adam dragged Dylan back onto the sofa, and knelt between his legs. I lubed them both, running my fist up and down Adam's dick while my other hand found Dylan’s soft pucker, pressing a finger home quickly since he was already pretty excited. I watched as Adam entered him with one long gliding thrust, my cock surging wildly as it imagined it was the lucky one. Dylan grunted at the initial penetration, and then began to moan, the sound changing from mild discomfort to pleasure as Adam slow fucked him using his whole length. I leaned against Dylan’s side, one hand on his cock, the other on my own, his arm draped over my shoulder as he rubbed my chest, pinching a nipple now and then.

Observing sex is interesting. When you’re caught up in fucking, you miss so many of the finer details. How Dylan closed his eyes each time Adam plunged deep into him, then opened them on the outstroke. The tightening of Dylan’s nipples as he neared orgasm. The ripples flowing across Adam's abdominals as his hips worked. As Adam began to thrust faster, I stood and stroked myself, watching Dylan carefully so we could all shoot within a few seconds of each other. I don’t know why I get such a kick out of that, but I do, so I work at it.

Suddenly Adam pulled out and jerked himself quickly, leaning over Dylan on one arm. As soon as he began to shoot, he barely hung on to his dick, letting it twitch and jerk in his loose fist, pulsing out semen in hot little bursts. I was only a moment behind, and when my first load hit his belly, Dylan groaned deeply and joined in. The three of us grunted and moaned for a couple minutes, and amused ourselves rubbing three different consistencies of cum around Dylan’s belly until he started to giggle. Eventually we staggered arm in arm up the stairs, down the hall, and into the shower.

It’s an orgy room all by itself, six feet square with a tile bench around three sides, and detachable shower massage heads all over the place. Dylan’s talented mouth pulled another orgasm out of Adam, leaving him sprawled on the bench too spent to move, so we hosed him off with a shower head. Once we were clean and mostly dry, we piled onto the bed and dragged the quilt up to our chins, arranging arms and legs for maximum contact and comfort. Since it’s my house I usually get the middle, but tonight I climbed in last, and let Adam pull Dylan into the curve of his body. I cozied up to Adam’s warm backside, and we were off to dreamland.

The alarm woke us at 6am, and I buzzed Maria in the kitchen that there would be three for breakfast. Yes, I have a housekeeper - sue me. She arrives at 5:30 every weekday to get my ass out of bed on time, and send me off with a healthy breakfast in my tummy. Then she cleans a little, starts dinner, and is home by the time her kids get out of school. I hired her shortly after I bought the house. She was young, scared, and illegal, so I got her legal, helped her learn English, and introduced her to her future husband Jorge, Alejandro’s cousin. I pay her well and in return, she’s nice to my friends, and takes good care of me. We’ve become close over the years, and I know it would make her happy if I found someone to come home to at night, instead of potluck like I do now.

We grabbed a quick wake-up shower, somehow managing to get through it without sex, and trooped downstairs to pancakes, sausage, and orange juice. Dylan is a lawyer with a large law firm in the city. He had an eight o’clock meeting, so he headed out when I did at 7. Adam had nothing going till afternoon, so he followed me to the barn to help re-set the jumping arena. We change it up regularly to keep the horses from getting stale.

I was supervising the delivery of two new jumpers when I heard a truck I didn’t recognize come up the drive. It pulled in past the horse van, and stopped about ten feet away, to where I couldn't see the cab. I figured it had to be the new farrier, and turned back to finish getting the horses off the van. One of them backed out quickly, and took a swipe at Tommy, who jumped nimbly out of the way, swearing under his breath. When I looked at the truck again, a long denim-covered leg was stretched from the seat out onto the ground, and a lean golden arm extended to the edge of the door. This was definitely not Danny.

When I first took over Stonegate, I’d tried every farrier in the five-county area, finally settling on Danny as our primary shoer. He's good with the horses, firm, but quiet, and has a knack for the subtleties of trimming a hoof . Our horses move better and hold up longer under hard work when Danny does their feet. He has a few guys working for him, but always does our horses himself, and I was not going to welcome this new guy with open arms until he proved to be as good as Danny, which I doubted would be the case. As I stared, the golden arm became a smoothly curved shoulder that merged into a beautiful wide back and narrow hips, from which emerged the long leg I had first seen.

Everyone’s forever starts somewhere and, although I didn’t know it at the time, mine began when TJ (not PJ) Lundquist unfolded his 6’1” self from the cab of the truck. He wore bib overalls over a white tank, and a Longhorns baseball cap on backwards to keep his pale blond hair out of his face. Some guys just have a presence, a ‘something’ about them that draws you, like a lemming to a cliff. TJ had it, whatever the hell it was. My gaze traveled slowly down his body and back up again. By the time I reached his face my respiration had increased and my palms were sweaty.

Tommy and Alejandro had come up behind me and were watching with raised eyebrows and open mouths.

“Madre de Dios,” breathed Alejandro.

Tommy was more succinct. “Holy fuck.”