The Cottonwood Stud Ranch
Part Two
Liam hefted a hay bale atop the growing stack and shifted it neatly into place. Pausing to take a swig from the water canteen Gabriella had provided, he took a moment to appreciate the warm weather and pleasant burn in his lean muscles.
Four days of farm living was doing him a world of good.
It truly was a simple but rewarding life. Perhaps it was getting away from the rat race of the big city and taking in the clean country air or all the hearty fare he was wolfing down at mealtimes. Hot, passionate nights spent in the arms of a young, breathtaking blonde definitely had a positive effect on him, too.
Liam's guilt about deflowering the insatiable farm girl had crumbled like a sand castle under the inexorable tide of her adoration and affection.
It was more than just the sex--unbelievable though that was--Gabriella honestly cared for him. Her continual touches and compliments buoyed his spirits and revived an ego that had been deader than Lazarus for decades. She bubbled with energy and vitality, lighting his measly existence brighter than the sun.
Not even a generational age gap dampened her ardor. The irrepressible bundle of fun seemed to relish it, in fact, calling him
Daddy
in sultry tones that never failed to stir his reawakened manhood.
But something was amiss on the Cottonwood Stud Ranch, and it wasn't the fields of wheat waving in the cooling breeze.
Gabriella had found him a cowboy hat and boots, as promised, after their first night of surprisingly torrid fucking and given Liam the grand tour.
She'd fired up an old John Deer tractor with practiced ease--the rust bucket had to be over thirty years old but still ran without a hitch--and driven with him saddled behind her past aging barns, storage sheds, and an eight-story tall grain silo that loomed like a concrete colossus over the farmstead.
Ensuring he was tucked snuggly against her spankable backside, Gabriella had pointed out the different features and babbled away merrily while Liam caught his first glimpses of the other residents of the ranch.
Namely the farmhands.
Hulking muscle-bound giants, like Thaddius from dinner the night before, trudged about the fields and outbuildings on tasks he couldn't begin to guess at. Each sun-bronzed strongman was packed into hard-worn denim and drill cotton workwear that strained with every flex of their mighty physiques as they labored.
They were often accompanied by a beautiful female companion, provocatively attired busty Midwestern belles whom Gabriella dismissively identified as cousins. They appeared to direct the enormous brutes throughout their chores with happy smiles and occasional applause, which made their ripe curves bounce most distractingly.
"Don't worry about them, Daddy." Gabriella had crooned, grinding her luscious rump against his hardening crotch and steering them behind an empty stable. "They're a tad simple--uneducated knucklebrains who require constant supervision. Not super smart and classy like you."
She'd worn a tiny white summer dress, hardly more than a scrap of translucent fabric that draped over her large breasts, wrapped around her waspish waist, and hung like a loincloth between her juicy thighs.
Liam had plowed the lusty blonde over the fuel tank until she squealed for mercy, and that had only been day two.
His headaches came and went, normally after another pill from the unlabeled bottle. The miracle medicine alleviated the pain quickly but left him feeling... foggy. Time became slippery, and memories blurred, but Gabriella was always by his side with her tender caresses and loving words.
"You're the best, Daddy. I'm so lucky to be your special baby girl."
"Is it wrong that I want to suck your big yummy cock right now, sir?"
"I can't wait until we're alone tonight because I've been having naughty thoughts about you all day."
"Do you know how wet I am for you, Daddy?"
Her sisters and mother had been around here and there. The twins Trixie and Dixie flitted like huge-chested, underdressed butterflies between several burly farmhands, managing them in tandem and often disappearing with one of them for prolonged periods, only to reappear slightly mussed and grinning cheerfully.
Ruby, on the other hand, seemed to focus on a duo of intimidatingly muscular workers, authoritatively ordering them about like faithful hounds and sparing them compliments. She had berated Thaddius when he tried to approach, verbally lashing the shaggy-haired mammoth before sending him away.
The poor lug was ready to weep as he shambled off to split firewood.
Miss Lily rarely strayed far from the big house, as the colonial-style farmhouse was called, but was occasionally seen strolling the grounds in the company of an older cowboy, built like a mountain with sandy hair and a handlebar mustache. Gabriella had identified him as Randolph, the farm boss.
Yep, life certainly ran at a different pace out in the countryside, Liam considered, appraising his hard work. The orderly stack of hay bales was a tangible sign of accomplishment that he could take pride in--a whole trailer load of animal fodder that he'd unloaded in a surprisingly short amount of time--unlike unending lines of complex code.
Code.
Detroit.
Liam rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck and glanced about in confusion. Sometimes, it was too easy to fall into a repetitive task and let the mind shift down a few gears, relaxing the ol' gray matter. Gabby had left him to it, promising to return with refreshments for her hardworking Daddy.
He needed to get back on the road to Detroit, where a new job and a fresh start awaited.
Wiping his grimy palms on the borrowed jeans, Liam went in search of his car.
________________
"Another week?! Miss Lily said you'd have it repaired in a few days."
Liam stared into the disarming smile of cousin June, who spread her oil-stained hands in a "what can you do?" gesture.
"And she'd be right on the money if you drove a regular diesel or gas engine, Mister." The coverall-clad grease monkey shrugged, resting her elbows on a rough timber workbench and twining a dirty-blonde lock around a finger. "But you got one of them fancy hybrid electric vehicles. That means specialist parts I ain't got handy. Don't let that bother you none, though. I'll send Rosco on a supply run to Stockton tomorrow, and the kind folks there will place a rush order. God willing, you'll be riding off into the sunset by this time next week."
Rosco, an ebony-skinned behemoth, straightened from where he was busy punching dents out of Liam's mangled Prius with a rubber mallet that looked like a child's toy in his catcher-sized mitt. His droopy eyes focused on June's thick rump as she waggled it lazily.
Liam was too intent on the deep cleavage spilling out from her unbuttoned top to notice the lump forming in the other man's dungarees.
"I could... I could, maybe, go with him?" He hazarded, uncertain in the face of so much inviting tit-flesh. "If... If I can just get a signal to contact... um, contact..."
