Into the Storm of Discovery

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Big Dick

In the small farming community of Beatrice, the folks have called Brent Greyson “Grey” for short ever since he had been a child. Now, well into his thirties, Grey still resided on his inherited family farmland just on the outskirts of Beatrice Country. Farming was hard work, and life hadn’t recently been terribly kind to Grey, but he loved the land, and he even loved his community although he tended to keep to himself most often.

It was November already, and Grey was taking his last trip into town before the heavy winter snows came blowing in from the North. Thus far they had only had dustings of snow, but that good fortune wouldn’t last much longer. Once the real snow started the roads leading into and out of town would quickly become treacherous, and then eventually impassable. Taking his larger covered wagon, pulled by two mares, he would be picking up the last of the winter supplies he figured he would need to pull him through the long cold winter. Come March or April, he would probably be in a sad state, but he’d survive as he had every other bone-chilling winter since he had been a child and his parents had run the farm.

These days he wasn’t too keen on going into town. Not ever since his young wife, Martha, had died along with their unborn baby. The married women in town just clucked at him with pity written all over their faces, the spinsters had begun chatting him up with acute interest, and the men would just glance at him awkwardly before launching into typical farm talk. Grey told himself to ignore all that nonsense, and just get his supplies and get back to the farm before dark.

Grey pulled into town a little before noon. It was a Saturday, and there was quite a lot of activity on the main street, which of course was called Main Street. Women bustled from shop to shop with parcels clenched to their chests. Men smoked tabaco from pipes while sitting in or standing next to their wagons waiting for their wives.

Grey pulled his own wagon up beside Henry Ross’ wagon; he always recognized his closest neighbour’s wagon. Henry was likely in town for the same reason as Grey, he surmised. Glancing around, Grey didn’t see Henry anywhere, and he would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t relieved. Henry was a character for sure, and some of his behaviour didn’t sit well with Grey. There were also quite colourful rumors about Henry, but Grey tried not to get involved with gossip.

Grey hopped down from his wagon, and was hitching the horses to a post when a big hand clamped down strongly on his shoulder. Grey didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “Hello Henry.”

“Grey! My good ol’ neighbour! You ready for this frigid bitch they call winter?”

Grey turned to look at Henry, who kept his big hand clamped on his shoulder. Henry was a huge beefy man, and Grey didn’t think the man was terribly smart either. However, back in the day all the girls had wanted to get with Henry for some reason. Betty-Sue Williams, as was her maiden name when they were kids, had been the lucky gal to land the big fella. Henry and Betty-Sue Rumpert – she hadn’t won the name lottery there, Grey thought.

“I’m just getting the last of the supplies today. I imagine you and the missus are doing the same.” Grey glimpsed around for Betty-Sue, but didn’t see her so she was likely still in one of the stores.

Henry thundered with a deep belly laugh, and slapped Grey hard on the shoulder twice before finally withdrawing his hand. Henry’s nose was suspiciously red, and Grey wondered if it was from the chill in the air, or if Henry had already had an early liquid lunch.

“I don’t bring the old lady into town with me unless I have to. Never understood why you always did.” Henry turned and spat into the dirt at the base of the hitching post.

Grey found this man repulsive, but he was also the closest neighbour, and the only person he could reach in the event of emergency over the winter months. He needed to play nice as a matter of self-preservation. Sometimes in these parts your neighbours could be the difference between life and death.

Henry continued, “The wife is best left at home cooking, cleaning, and minding the children.” Henry squinted at Grey then. “But, you ain’t ever had no kids with your lady, God rest her soul.”

Grey looked down at his own muddy boots. He felt that little something akin to rage roll over in the pit of his stomach; where it had sat since the passing of his sweet Martha. He and Martha had tried for so long, and were so thrilled when they had finally gotten pregnant. It had been a tough pregnancy for sure, and then all was lost in the eighth month. Not just the baby, but Martha too. This careless old lummox couldn’t possibly understand, and Grey wasn’t about to try to explain it to him. Grey wasn’t even sure he fully understood the depths of the loss himself.

“Anyway…” Henry went on. “they are predicting a very long and very cold winter, Grey.” Grey looked back up at the other man. Henry Gaziantep Eve Gelen Escort was looking out toward the distant mountains, as if he could see the bad weather coming over the horizon.

“Yep.” Grey said dismissively. He wanted to get on with his chores, but sensed that Henry was working around to what he actually wanted to talk about. Henry wouldn’t be rushed, and had always had this air about him as if he held some wisdom that others needed. Grey hoped he would never actually need anything from Henry, but stood politely in front of the taller man waiting to be imparted with Henry’s special brand of insight.

“Grey, it’s going to get awfully lonely out there on your farm. Winter is so long, and with Martha gone…”

“I am not worried. Besides, her nephew kept on with me to help with the farm.” Grey shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was cold, and he was a bit sore from the ride into the town. The rural roads were pretty unforgiving.

Martha, Aiden, and Grey had formed a little family. Aiden had been just a teen when he had come to live with Grey and Martha. He was Martha’s sister, Agatha’s, boy. Agatha had been raising the boy on her own since her husband had died, but then Agatha fell ill too. Aiden needed a home, so Martha and Grey had opened up theirs without hesitation. He was a good kid, and now a hardworking man. Grey liked Aiden very much.

“Oh yeah, of course. How old is that young fella? Why hasn’t he taken a wife?” Henry was nosy, and this was a fact.

“He’s twenty and five this year. I don’t right know why he hasn’t taken a wife, and I mind my own business. He’s a good worker, and that’s what matters to me.” Grey glanced around hoping someone might come save him from Henry, but that was very unlikely.

“Yes, of course.” Henry stroked his chin which had winter beard growth. He was looking at Grey appraisingly. “Grey, you need to get yourself and that young fella a whore for the winter.”

Grey almost choked on his own saliva as he looked about to make sure no one had overheard what Henry had suggested in his typical booming voice. “What? No. That’s some suggestion, Henry, but no. I best be getting to my errands, so I can get back before dark.”

Grey made a move to step away from the other man, but once again Henry’s beefy hand landed on his shoulder. “You need to listen to me. I know what I am talking about, and it’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Lower your voice, Henry. We have respectable woman within earshot.” Grey looked around furtively.

Henry laughed again; a big booming belly laugh that was purely at Grey’s expense. “You never really got the man woman dynamic, did ya?”

Grey flushed at this. He had heard lots of rumors over the years about Henry, and he had long suspected them to be truth, which had also made him feel badly for poor Betty-Sue. She had been the prettiest girl in school when they were younger. “I understand just fine, Henry. I don’t need to take a… a woman into my home for the winter. Thank you for the suggestion, but Aiden and I will winter just fine. Lots of hard work to keep us busy, and other than that Aiden likes his books, and I like building things.”

Grey could see it in Henry’s eyes that he wasn’t done. “Grey, let’s get a drink, my treat.”

This was the last thing Grey wanted to do today, but none-the-less he followed his neighbour into Hawks Pub which wasn’t too far from where they had been standing, and was likely where Henry had just come from. They took a seat in a booth, and Henry ordered them each a whisky straight up. It seemed a tad early to Grey, but at the very least it would warm his blood for the trip back to home. The lady brought them their drinks, and Henry made a display of both glaring at her bosom, and then her derriere as she walked away.

“To the whores and their assets!” Henry raised his glass over the table, and playing along, Grey clinked glasses before taking a swallow of his drink, even though he didn’t agree with the sentiment.

“Just this one quick drink, and then I really have to get over to the feed and seed.” It seemed wise to ward off more drinks after this one, though Henry didn’t seem to take any notice that Grey had even spoken.

“Grey… hear me good. You and Aiden are gonna get right lonely, and your beds will feel extra cold if you don’t heed my suggestion. She can cook, clean and keep y’all company for the winter. Come spring you drop her back in town, and she ain’t your problem no more. No need to even learn her real name. Call her whatever you like. These whores like a warm home for the winter. They’re eager to please if you know what I mean?”

“You’re married, what do you know of all this?” Grey knew he shouldn’t encourage Henry by asking such questions, but curiosity for the answer got the better of him.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, my ol’ friend! You know very well I take a whore every winter. The last three winters my old lady has been carrying a babe, and wouldn’t let me touch her. This winter she ain’t with child, but I am taking a whore all the same.” Henry puffed his chest out proudly as he shared these details.

Grey couldn’t imagine Betty-Sue being accepting of this situation, so he asked, “Does Betty-Sue actually allow this?”

Another big laugh from the other man. “Allow? Betty-Sue knows her place right well. She knows very well I won’t take any heed to her whining and complaining. If she don’t like it, she can take her children and get off my land.”

Henry and Betty-Sue had a brood of eight children. There was no way she could support herself and all those children, and there was no way another local man would take them all on. Henry held all the cards Grey realized.

“So, the women just co-exist in your house all winter long?” Once again Grey knew he needed to stop asking questions and yet he didn’t.

Henry shook his hard slowly back and forth in mock sadness. “You went so wrong with Martha. I suspected as much. Women need to know their place. I bring my whore home today, and she will service me all winter. She will help with chores too, but she knows to stay out of Betty-Sue’s way for the most part. To the kids she’s just a servant.” Henry drained his glass, and singled the bartender for a second. Not that the farmer needed anymore liquor in Grey’s estimation.

“Betty-Sue, she’s a decent wife. Little fat these days. She’s also a prude. She only really wants me to get between her legs when she wants another babe in her belly. I am a man, and I have needs. You do too, Grey. You ain’t better than me” Henry was getting that lazy drunk look in his eyes, and his tongue was loosening more and more by the minute. Grey peered about the dark pub to see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation. It was all men in the pub, except the women that served the drinks, but they knew not to interfere with the conversations of the men-folk.

“She won’t even let me lick her between her legs. Can you imagine that?”

Grey blushed, and hoped the dim lighting of the pub would hide the rosy high of his cheeks. Of course, he wasn’t a virgin, and of course he was familiar with the ways of pleasuring a woman, but he was not at all comfortable about speaking about such private matters in public. Technically, Grey wasn’t even sure what was a sin and what wasn’t when it came to pleasuring his wife, but they had tried lots of things over the years. Not that he intended to tell Henry about any of it.

“No offense, Henry, but I feel this isn’t my business.”

Henry squinted at Grey almost assessing, before agreeing, “You’re right. It’s not your business, but I am gonna tell ya anyway.” He downed half of his fresh drink. “Sometimes, you just want to put it up her arse, right? But Prudey-Sue says that’s a sin.” Henry said “that’s a sin” in a mock feminine voice that Grey assumed was an imitation of Betty-Sue.

“What kind of horseshit is that?” Henry asked incredulously.

Grey sat back, as if trying to distance himself from the other man. This was quite possibly the most awkward conversation of his life. Even more so than when his father had come into his childhood bedroom one evening to explain to him how babies were made. Grey shivered.

“Sometime… sometimes I bring my whore into my marital bed and rut her right beside Betty-Sue.” This was declared with extreme pride, and yet Henry did lower his voice slightly when imparting this filthy detail.

“Sometimes I even bend her over Betty-Sue’s legs, and use her right there like that! And, if I am feeling particularly sinful, I switch holes and take her arse without any warning. It’s not wrong if you’re paying them for the services, and giving them a warm home for the winter to boot!”

Grey had heard enough. He was both disgusted by Henry, but also, much to his shame, for the first time in months he felt a little aroused. This made him feel shameful and disgusted with himself.

“I don’t much care if my whore or my wife get pleasure from what I do to them. It’s more for the man anyway, but sometimes I put my whore on her back, climb between her spread legs and lick her to multiple noisy climaxes. Betty-Sue pretends she’s sleeping, but I see her flinch every single time the girl squeals with pleasure. Teach her right. She could be cummin’ on my face if she wasn’t such a cold fish.”

Grey found himself picturing this scene, and had to shake his head to clear it. “How do you keep the women from getting pregnant?” he asked, as he drained the last of the whisky from his glass.

“I don’t worry about that nonsense. That’s a hazard of their work, and not my concern. I seed them all winter long, and then drop them off in town in the spring. They stick around for a bit while their belly gets fat, and they take off to birth somewhere else. I never see them again.” Henry seemed so casual about this all. Grey couldn’t fathom how a man could be so casual about his offspring just out there in the world on their own.

“Don’t you worry about the children?”

“Watch my lips, Grey. Not. My. Problem. Bastard kids don’t count.”

Grey felt his stomach turn at that comment. The naughtiness of the sex acts had aroused him more than he’d like to admit, but the thought of taking a lady of ill-repute home for the winter was not going to happen. “I will pass on taking a woman home, but thank you for the advice just the same. I best get going, Henry.”

Grey got up before Henry could try to draw him back in. “Suit yourself.” Henry said as he waived for another glass of whisky. “Gonna be a cold bitch of a winter, neighbour. Good luck to you and the young man.”

“Thank you, and to you as well.” Grey responded before heading off to complete his chores.

The Trip back to the farm…

While heading back to the farm, with the wagon loaded to the rafters, Grey found himself thinking of some of the dirty things Henry had told him about. It was so sinful, and yet Grey found himself rock hard in his britches. In fact, he was so hard that he found himself very uncomfortable. He couldn’t right recall when was the last time he had helped himself to a release. He wasn’t a man to allow his libido to control him, but it was kicking in bigtime during the trip home. Damn Henry with his filthy talk.

Grey pulled the horses and wagon to the side of the deserted country road. It was farmland all around for as far as the eye could see. They sky was clear, and the air was crisp. Grey leaned out of the covered wagon to look around for any other wagons or folk on horseback, although that was unlikely in these parts. When he felt safe that he was alone, he untied his britches and took out his thick stiff cock. The cool air did nothing to sooth his very engorged member.

Grey found himself leaning back against the wooden back to his bench seat while stroking the shaft of his cock languidly up and down. His mind wandered to some of the very inappropriate scenarios that Henry had spoken of. He fundamentally disagreed with how Henry behaved, but somehow that made the thoughts even more arousing. They were taboo and foreign concepts which made him more than a little hot. He would never behave in such a way himself, but the mental image of taking another woman right in your marital bed beside your wife made Grey throb so hard it hurt.

Also, Grey missed the taste of a woman. It was too hard to think of his wife, so instead he conjured up the vague mental imagine of a town whore. He pictures licking her between her spread legs, just like Henry said he did right beside Betty-Sue. The thought was so dirty it made Grey feel close to exploding already.

Grey stroked himself up and down, so engrossed in his pleasure that he didn’t hear the other person approach on horseback. He had no idea he was actually putting on a lewd display for a curious set of eyes. He was so close, panting, pulsing, and his hand was flying up and down his shaft rapidly. Finally, his balls pulled tight, and he squirted his seed freely. He simply let it fly from the tip of his cock, and land where it would. He would deal with the mess after, but right now it just felt exquisite to have the release.

It was then that someone cleared their throat ever so softly, and Grey sat bolt upright trying to conceal himself with his loose britches. He came eye to eye with his wife’s nephew, Aiden. The younger man sat atop his horse with an unreadable expression on his face. Grey cleared his throat, but didn’t know what to say. They both sat in silence looking at each other for what felt like forever, but was probably only half a minute.

Then Aiden simply turned his horse, and headed back toward the farm at a good clip. Grey let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Of course, the one time he behaved out of character he would get caught! And by Aiden no less! Embarrassment coursed through him as he stuffed himself back into his britches, tied them, and tried to clean-up as much of his seed as he could from the floor and bench of the wagon. He cursed Henry as he put his horses in motion to head home.

Much to Grey’s relief, Aiden came out of the house on his approach and commenced unloading the wagon as if nothing had happened. The two men only spoke when Aiden needed direction for where the different supplies would be stored. Grey still felt terribly mortified over having been caught pleasuring himself in his wagon on the side of the road, but he appreciated that Aiden was willing to pretend nothing had happened.

As time does, it went on and winter took its icy grip on the entire county. The two men never spoke of that day on the side of the road. Grey did wonder why Aiden had been out that day on horseback, but didn’t ask. He shoved the entire incident to the back of his mind, and hadn’t stroked himself since. He staunchly avoided thinking about the conversation he had had with Henry that day in the pub. Besides, winter was long, cold and always had the potential to become deadly. He had way more important things to think about than what Henry was doing in his house.

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