He rode into our valley in the summer of '89, a giant of a black man dressed in clothes as dark as his skin. He was tall and terrible in the road looming up gigantic in the half-light. I was a kid then, watching him approaching from several miles off. Even from a distance there was something about him. My pa came out just as he rode up to our ranch.
"I'd appreciate some water for my horse," said the black giant.
"Help yourself stranger," said my pa. "Troughs around back. Take all the water you need.
I watched the man ride around back. He had a gun on his hip and a Winchester rifle sticking up from his saddle. I would have followed him, but at that moment some of Bodie's men rode up to hassle my father. They came from the opposite direction the black man had, from where Bodie drove his herds. My ma came out on the porch then to see what all the fuss was about.
"My you fill out that dress right nicely, ma'am," said one of the thugs leaning down on his saddle.
"What do you men want?" asked my father stepping in front of mother.
The cowboy's eyes lingered on mother a second before speaking again. "Mr. Bodie still wants this land."
"It's not for sale."
"Who said anything about buying it," said the cowboy resting his hand on the pistol dangling from his hip.
Then I watched as the cowboy's eyes grew wide and he slowly removed his hand from the gun. He was staring over my shoulder. I turned to look, the black man was standing behind me with the rifle slung over his shoulder. His eyes were cold, but he smiled and said, "Thanks for the water sir."
"Think about what we said," growled the cowboy turning his horse and galloping off. The two others followed him.
Father watched them go an angry look on his face before turning to the black man and smiling. "Well stranger, seeing how it's getting late and that horse of your could probably use a rest, why don't you join us for dinner? You can bed down in the barn tonight."
"Much obliged sir," said the black man.
"I'm Elijah. You won't regret it stranger, Hetty's the best cook in the Wyoming territory."
"Call me Shame," he said. He never told us more.
* * * * *
Pa didn't lie about mother's cooking. Dinner consisted of chicken, cornbread, beans, and fresh apple pie. Both Shame and Pa greedily shoveled ma's food into their mouths.
My sister showed up about half-way through dinner and Ma flashed her an angry glance for being late. Mary, my sister seemed fascinated with Shame, as was I. I quietly ate, staring at Shame the whole time. Between mouthfuls, he spent all his time staring at ma and my sister.
"What's so interesting boy," said Shame finally tuning his attention on me.
"Mr. Shame," I blurted out. "Whys your skin so dark? You burnt in a fire or something?"
Mother gasped. Father said, "He's a black man Caleb. Now hush up."
We finished eating and Shame sat back contentedly and patted his belly. "Ma'am that was the best meal I ever had." Ma blushed. She loved feeding us.
After dinner, pa got out his pipe and I was ushered off up stairs to bed. I tried to listen, but all I could hear were mumbles.
* * * * *
Hetty peeked through the barn door at the black man. A lantern lit the room. Shame was unrolling a bedroll on the cot Elijah had built for a farm hand that Bodie's men had run off.
"Can I help you ma'am?" asked Shame without turning. It was like he was aware of everything around him whether he was staring at it or not.
Hetty walked in and Shame slowly turned to face her. "Mr. Shame, I was wondering if you'd like to stay on and work for us. My husband could sure use the help."
"Help on the farm or help from those men?"
Hetty blushed and looked at her feet. "Both sir."
"Elijah's a big man. How come he didn't stand up to them?"
"It's against our religion to raise our hands against another human being, sir."
"A real man fights for what he believes in Hetty," said Shame. "What did they want with you?"
"Mr. Bodie is the most powerful cattleman in the valley. Us homesteaders are standing in the way of his cattle drives forcing him further out of his way. Our land has some springs on it, he needs to water his herd. How about it, will you stay?"
"I've vowed never to work the dirt again ma'am," said Shame, "but I'd consider staying if the price was right."
"We don't have much money, but we could offer food and shelter."
"Not enough," said Shame staring her in the eyes.
"What else then?"
"I ain't been with a woman in a long time Hetty," said Shame.
Hetty gasped. She fully believed that all men were animals and that the first duty of any wife was to tame a husband's more carnal desires. "I thought you were a gentleman Mr. Shame. I was wrong. Good night sir."
"Hetty wait," sad Shame before she reached the barn door. She stopped and turned. "You ever hear of a hand job?"
"No sir."
"It's where you stroke my cock untils I cums. Do that for me each day and I'll stay awhile and protect your family."
"That's disgusting."
"Think of it like your milkin a cow. Just run your hands up and down it untils I cums."
"Like milkin a cow," said Hetty pausing. She had seen the way the cowboys reacted when they saw Shame. They were clearly scared of him. "If I do this for you, you'll stay?"
"Yes ma'am. If you make me cum once every day, I'll stay as long as you need me."
"How do I do this?"
He grinned knowing he had won. "Kneel between my legs and undo my trousers."
Hetty felt a little angry. A black man was looking condescendingly at her. They sure were getting uppity after the war. However, this was a small price to pay for keeping her family safe. It would be just like milkin a cow. Take the teat in your hand and tug on it until milk squirts out. She kneeled between his legs. He smirked down at her while she took his belt off and undid his trousers.
Hetty didn't want to look at it, so she turned her head as she reached in his pants and grabbed something. "Please remove your arm, sir," said Hetty.
"That's not my arm," replied Shame.
Hetty turned to look as she pulled out his massive black penis. "My god sir, it's as big as Mr. Taylor's prize bull's organ."
Shame just laughed and pushed his trousers down to his knees revealing his testicles. It looked like two large apples had been shoved into a wrinkly black sack. "What's the matter Hetty, ain't Elijah's cock this big?"
Hetty had never actually looked at her husband's penis, but judging how it felt inside her when they fornicated, Shame was at least twice as big and a lot thicker. She ignored his question and said, "Where do I began?"
"Spit in your hand," he said. She looked a him distastefully, but obeyed. "Now coat it around the tip." As she rubbed around the tip, a giant black, plum-sized head emerged from his wrinkly dark foreskin to stare a her. It was huge and harder then her husbands penis had ever been. He groaned as she touched it. "Now coat the rest of it."
Hetty spit in her hand and rubbed further along his shaft. It grew even bigger as she stroked it. His big bull cock was more then a foot long and still swelling. It was so big, her mouth was dry by the time it was coated with saliva.
"Now milk the cow, ma'am," said Shame.
Hetty began stroking it. She slid her hand up and down the shaft. It was fascinating to hold his big cock. It was a bull's cock, a horse's cock, a giant hooded black snake. It was so hard, you could hammer in a nail with it. 'The devil must have a cock this big,' thought Hetty.
Her hand grew tired and she switched, spitting again to coat it. Soon that hand too grew tired and she started using both hands to get him off. "It's so hot," she murmured.
"Isn't your husband's?" asked Shame.
"I don't know, I've never done this to Elijah."
"Faster Hetty, faster."
Both her arms were tired, but Hetty increased her speed. "Mr. Shame it's getting bigger," she cried as it grew in her hand. His entire cock was swelling now. The head was an angry purple color and was so big it looked about to burst.