Take Care of Nancy

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Blonde

May 2018

“I don’t want you to go… and leave me alone out here at the farm.”

“You won’t be alone, Nancy. I hired Wayne Strickland to take over running the farm while I’m gone. You’ve got your job in town and the baby coming along. Time’ll go real fast and I’ll be back and we’ll be better fixed.”

Boyd Talbot moved his hips back, extracting himself from his wife. It was a Sunday afternoon on the Talbot farm just east of Kokomo, Indiana. He remained in place for a few more moments, spooned into his young wife’s back, a hand cupping her belly, feeling for the heartbeat of the baby four months on the way. It would be a February baby. He’d be four months into his eighteen-month stint in the U.S. Army. He already knew he’d be serving that in Stuttgart, Germany.

All of this was for that baby baking in his wife’s oven. They’d been married just shy of a year and the baby had been a surprise–financially sooner than they could manage, but Nancy had proved to be a firecracker in bed, so he guessed a baby was inevitable. They were both not that long out of high school, and the family farm had already come to Boyd. He couldn’t think of any more he could do–any better for Nancy and the baby–than what he was doing.

He turned from her, rolled over, and sat up on the side of the bed, preparing to go shower and then to get on with it. They were doing this part of the good-bye in the afternoon, because he had to report to the Army recruitment office in Lafayette, to the west, early the next, Monday, morning, and Wayne was driving him over there after dinner tonight, so Boyd would be there on time the next morning.

“I wish there was some other way,” Nancy murmured, close to tears.

“We’ve been over this. We’re barely scraping through with the farm. Eighteen months in the Army and I can come back and join the national guard, with benefits. The GI bill–I can get some college paid for–life and health insurance, and a bit of extra cash. I’ll be in the Army when the baby comes. Your health care will be covered. It’s all to get us protected better, especially the health care now that the baby’s coming.”

“You didn’t ask me before hiring on Wayne,” she said, blurting out what he knew she’d been harboring. She’d been leery about the big half-breed Boyd had brought in to run the farm while he was gone.

“Someone has to take care of the fields and bring in what they can, Nancy. The Army is supposed to supplement our income, not cover it all. We’re lucky I found Wayne.”

“Where did you find Wayne?” she asked. “He scares me a bit. He’s so big–and dark–and he glowers at me.”

“He’ll protect you and the farm good while I’m gone. He’s just older than us and not our kind. He knows farming, though. And he’ll be on the other side of the farm, in the old homestead cottage. It will be fine. You know where I met him–Charlie’s Roadhouse, up Reed Street on the north end of town.”

“Charlie’s Roadhouse,” Nancy said, with disdain. “You know I don’t like you going there. I’ve heard stories about that place. I don’t like what I’ve heard about what goes on at that place.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear about anything, Nance,” he said. That was one road he didn’t want to go down with Nancy. “You need to just not fret about everything you hear about anything. Just stick to what we got here–bringing in the baby and making a life for us here on the farm. We’re lucky we’ve got this at our age. This Army stint will make it better.”

“Well, I wish you didn’t have to bring in a man–a man I don’t know–to work the farm–and I don’t like what I hear about Charlie’s Roadhouse.”

“Well, I won’t be going there for nearly two years now. It probably won’t even be in business when I get back. The good thing is that it’s where I found the guy who is going to keep this farm going while I’m gone. That’ll free you for your job at the Dollar Store in Kokomo until the baby comes, and then you’ll have your hands full. You won’t want to have to do any worrying about running this farm. You’ll be perfectly safe with him over on the other side of the farm. Trust me on this. And, speaking of Wayne, I’ll have to shower and go over to his place and go over a few things about the farm before I’m gone.”

He stood up from the bed, but Nancy grabbed his wrist. “Again, Boyd. You’re still hard. I can see that. Again before you go.”

“Geez, Nance, enough… didn’t we–?”

“Never enough, babe. And it will be eighteen months. God, I’m gonna miss you.”

With a sigh, Boyd turned to the bed, grasped Nancy by the ankles, and pulled her toward him, spreading and bending her legs as he did. She giggled, putting a pillow under the small of her back as he pulled her to him.

“Oh, yes, baby, baby,” she cried out as, crouched over her between her spread thighs, he entered her, as gently as he could, and began to slowly pump. The doctor had said sex would be fine even beyond this time as long as they didn’t do anything athletic. Of the two of escort izmir them, it had been Nancy who was the more aggressive and insatiable with sex. She had been Boyd’s steady all through Kokomo High School, where he was the football quarterback, she the head cheerleader, and the two of them Kind and Queen of Homecoming in 2017. It had been Boyd who had lost his virginity on the night of the senior prom, not Nancy.

* * * *

Boyd Talbot, naked and on his back, butt at the foot end of the bed, in his Baymont Inn room in Lafayette the night before he had to report to the Army recruitment center in his hometown to Perdue University, was grunting and panting. Crouched between his raised and spread legs, Wayne Strickland, four years older than Boyd, but young enough, muscular, hung, virile, and vigorous, was feeding his rock-hard cock into the younger man’s ass. When he’d bottomed, he grasped Boyd’s knees, raised and spread the young man’s legs wider, and pumped him with strong thrusts. Boyd writhed under him, moving his hands from the half-breed’s bulging pecs to his shoulder blades, and, as they approached liftoff, the man’s bulbous butt cheeks, holding him close into Boyd’s body as he tensed and jerked and came, tensed and jerked and came.

Boyd had gotten Wayne to drive him over to Lafayette from the Kokomo farm in the evening on the pretext of still having a lot of instructions to pass on about the running of the farm, but it really was because he wanted his last evening before going into the Army for a year and a half to be spent with his male lover.

Nancy Talbot had had good instincts about Charlie’s Roadhouse on the outskirts of Kokomo. It was a good place for gay cruising. Although it had been preordained that Boyd and Nancy were going to marry and settle down in the Talbot family farm, no preordained plans could take the other sexual urges out of Boyd. He had no trouble fucking Nancy–he enjoyed bedding her. But he couldn’t resist men too, as he’d found out soon after high school graduation when he was introduced to Charlie’s Roadhouse, laid in the back room there by a succession of men, and, eventually, met Wayne Strickland.

Boyd had been bisexual even before he realized what that was. He had just thought he was randy as hell and ready to get off however he could. When he settled down to focus on all that it involved, he discovered that, though he liked it with women, he loved it with men. Sex was sex was sex. It was all about getting it off.

When Boyd first met the half-breed hunk, it was at the roadhouse and Wayne was the boyfriend of one of the bartenders there, Cassie. Although the arousal in sitting at the bar with Wayne was there, and strong, from the get go, Boyd thought he was safe from following his same-sex desire for the man because Wayne and Cassie were so hooked up. That meant in Boyd’s mind that Wayne had to be straight and it didn’t matter if Boyd got hard for him or not.

That didn’t stop Wayne from taking Boyd into the back at the roadhouse and working him over one night when Boyd got drunk enough to let his desire for the other man show. And it didn’t stop Wayne from working Boyd into threesomes with Cassie. Boyd was shocked at how easily he was brought into three-way bisexual sex and even more so when he realized how much he enjoyed it.

When Wayne and Cassie went bust and she moved on to another town, Wayne was left looking for someplace to settle for a while or decide to move on out of town right when Boyd needed to find someone to keep the Talbot farm going while he was off in the Army. Boyd wanted Wayne to still be here when he returned from the Army.

“I don’t want you to go,” Wayne murmured to Boyd after they’d fucked for the second time and were stretched out beside each other in the motel room bed, contemplating whether they should try going for a triple. “I feel like we’ve just settled in and have set a good rhythm.”

“Tonight or for longer?” Boyd asked. This wasn’t the first time he’d wanted Wayne to commit to settling down in Kokomo. To some extent–he didn’t know how much–this whole being gone to the Army bit was to try to get Wayne to put down roots here. If he was committed to eighteen months of taking care of the farm, maybe he’d just stay. This balancing Nancy and Wayne was tiring Boyd, but, oh, what a way to go. After a while that might settle down too. Both of them demanded so much sex from Boyd. Nancy, at least, might see her desires tapering off when the kids started coming and demanding her time and energy.

Wayne? Well, Wayne was something else. Wayne made Boyd feel alive and totally used in sex. Boyd didn’t think he ever wanted sex with Wayne to taper off. Shit, he was a big-cocked man–and body beautiful, and not bad looking in the face, either. The mark of the half breeding had given him a jet-black cock. That turned Boyd on every time he saw it and sucked it and took it inside him.

“I don’t know how long,” Wayne answered. “Not tonight, though. Someone escort izmir has hired me to take care of his farm and it wouldn’t be good if I failed to show up on the first day of work.”

“You can be up at 6:00 and have breakfast and be at the farm in time to start at 9:00,” Boyd said. “Nancy doesn’t get up that early. She won’t be out checking that work is going on in the fields anyway. She doesn’t give a shit about farm work. Stay. It’s going to be a long time before we can do this again.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to be the right way to start off on the farm.” They lay there, savoring the embrace for a few minutes before Wayne spoke again. “It will be lonely out there at the farm all by myself, but I guess Charlie’s isn’t too far away. And farming is honest work. Your spread is just the right size for one to handle.”

“Or two,” Boyd said. “I want you to stay when I get back. We can open up a couple of more fields and then it will be good to have two working it and it can support my family and you too.”

“We’ll see. I don’t feel quite right being there with you as you start your family–as you have a normal life and I’m just something added on.”

“I feel right about it,” Boyd said. “It will be great. It’s just eighteen months. We’ll be in great shape when I get back, can spin the Army service into the national guard, and get all those benefits we need. One thing, though, Wayne… while I’m gone.”

“Sure, what?”

“Be nice to Nancy. Try to check up on her now and again. It might be difficult for her, not so much while she still can work at the Dollar Store in Kokomo, but later, when the baby comes. Take care of Nancy for me, can you? And take it easy. She’s skittish about you being there on the farm.”

“Sure. But right now I want to take care of you again.”

Boyd wasn’t surprised, he’d been grasping and stroking Wayne’s cock, and the man was in monstrous erection again.

And that’s what Wayne did. He rolled over on top of Boyd, between the younger man’s thighs, mounted and penetrated him again, and took very, very good care of him.

Wayne stayed the night. He didn’t get back to the farm anytime even close to 9:00 a.m. But neither Nancy nor anyone else noticed he was late in getting the livestock fed.

* * * *

August 2018

Captain Mark Mayfield leaned back against the headboard in his officers’ quarters apartment in Stuttgart’s Kelly Barracks, the headquarters for U.S. Army Africa Command, and ran his hands up Private Boyd Talbott’s naked back. The handsome, young, and fit Midwest corn-raised, blond soldier was straddling the captain’s hips, facing away from him and rising and falling on the offer’s cock.

The captain could easily pick them out–the new soldiers who would take cock. The easiest, like Talbott, were the ones who had taken it before entering the Army and quickly were hungry for it. The others–the ones that had only been thinking about it before enlisting–were harder and took more time to get under a top. Talbott was so good looking that Mayfield didn’t regret the lack of conquest. All he needed to do was wait until Talbott had been without it for a couple of weeks and then get him alone, tell him he knew what he wanted, and command him to lie on the bed and spread his legs.

Mayfield had found Boyd a month earlier, in a broom closet, on his knees, sucking off a sergeant. The young man, a farmer by trade, had been assigned to the landscaping detail at the Army base. Captain Mayfield, impressed himself at the blow job and fuck he’d gotten after he’d pulled rank and taken the young man away from the sergeant, had gotten Boyd transferred to driving and maintaining his staff jeep. A farmer was as good at working and maintaining vehicles and other farm equipment as he was at mowing lawns.

And PFC Boyd Talbot was good–very good–at sucking cock and opening his legs to shafting.

Swiveling, Boyd changed positions to facing Mayfield’s head, leaning back, palming the officer’s kneecaps, and maintaining rhythm in rising and falling on the cock. In this position, Mayfield could grasp and drive the young man’s cock like it was the gearshift on his jeep, and he did so until the young man gave a shudder and shot off onto the captain’s belly. Boyd collapsed backward between the captain’s spread legs, his pelvis still moving on the officer’s shaft until Mayfield too had filled the bulb in his condom.

Talbot remained there, bent back onto the mattress between the captain’s legs, panting lightly and slightly pulsating, as Mayfield rummaged around on his nightstand, came up with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and lit up, enjoying a post-fuck smoke.

“Use my shower to clean up and then drive over to the post office and retrieve any mail we have,” he said. “I have to go back to the office for a while. Pick me up at 5:00 at the office. We’ll come back here and… you know.”

“Yes, sir,” Boyd murmured.

The captain hadn’t noticed how jittery Boyd had been for the last couple of weeks–or how often he’d checked in at the base post office without Mayfield telling him to. For a month Nancy had sent Boyd a letter every day. She never had mastered how to use the computer, so there weren’t any e-mails from her or face-to-face visits via the Net. Then it had been every two or three days between letters. Now he hadn’t gotten a letter from her in over two weeks. He was worried. He hoped it wasn’t about the baby she was carrying. He didn’t know why the baby had popped into his mind when the letters just stopped coming, but it had. He’s asked, subtly, he thought, about Nancy in his e-mail exchanges with Wayne, but Wayne wasn’t forthcoming in that realm. Wayne increasingly had kept the exchanges to farm business. He, of course, had never alluded in e-mails to the relationship the two men had.

It was, in fact, about the baby. Standing in the lobby of the post office, not being able to wait to get to the jeep to tear open the letter he’d so belatedly got from his wife, he discovered that it exactly was about the baby. Nancy had miscarried. That had sent her into a deep depression. She didn’t know what she’d do with herself, all alone in the farmhouse. It had happened a month earlier. She hadn’t had even the energy or ability until now to write her husband about it.

Boyd didn’t appear to pick Captain Mayfield up at his office at 5:00 p.m. The private should have come in to the office to tell the officer he was there, and Talbot was always quite punctual and he always was where he said he would be–or at least had been before. Concerned, Mayfield went out to the parking area. The jeep was there. He had his own set of keys. Rather than go back to his own apartment for the evening–although he did check there to make sure the private hadn’t misunderstood him and gone back there–Mayfield drove into the red district section of Stuttgart, looking for his wayward boy toy.

He found Boyd at one of the dives they went to when they were slumming. It wasn’t one of the strictly gay bars. Mayfield was too savvy for the military police ever to find him in one of those. It was in one of the “at the edge” bars, where both heteros and gays could be found, although most were hetero. The women there liked the likes of both Mayfield and Boyd enough that the men could easily switch over to women if military policemen were heard at the club entrance. There was a siren that would be activated by the doorman, if this were the case.

When Mayfield located Boyd, he found a young man nearly drunk on his tail, although still able to perform, and so steeped in grief and despondency that he no longer cared where he was and what he was doing. Where he was was in one of the back rooms in a basement bar that was also a brothel. What he was doing was fucking a call girl named Gretchen.

It wasn’t a wild fuck. Boyd had spilled his guts to the woman who had been sitting at the bar, some twenty years older than he was, more Rubenesque than svelte, and somewhat wrinkled around the edges. But she was a woman with feelings, one who had lost a child herself, and when Boyd was so far gone in his cups and bubbling over with despair that he told her of just learning that his wife had lost a baby six months into a pregnancy, she became, first, a mother, and then a comforter in the way she was there, at the bar, to be.

Gretchen had taken Boyd to one of the back rooms with a bed. When Mark Mayfield found them, she was on her back, skirt up to her waist, panties on the floor, bodice flared open, legs spread, and Boyd was crouched between her thighs, nuzzling her ample breasts, embracing her, and well into the rhythm of thrust and fuck.

Seeing the tableau, the captain’s first instinct was to be angry. Boyd was supposed to be in his bed, not some woman’s. Not that Mayfield really cared if Boyd fucked women. He knew there was a Mrs. Talbot and he’d interacted enough with Boyd to know the young man was an “any port in the storm” cocksman. So was Mayfield.

Therefore, when he’d drawn close and Gretchen, who Mayfield himself had known biblically on previous visits to the bar, had given him the basic explanation of why Boyd was the way he was, the captain stood there for a while, rubbing Boyd’s shoulders and commiserating with the young man.

As the fuck went on, though, Mayfield got horny and felt his rank. He not only had fucked Gretchen before himself, he’d joined with other men in fucking Gretchen. So, he did now too. He stripped off his clothes, climbed up on the bed behind Boyd, put his cock in position at Boyd’s hole, while Boyd was still humping Gretchen, embraced his boy toy driver, mounted, penetrated, and fucked him while Boyd was trying to rub out his cares with his cock pumping Gretchen.

In the ensuing months, as Boyd’s family tragedy simmered in letters from Nancy that came few and far between and gave very little information, Mayfield continued bringing Boyd to Gretchen–and then some of the other call girls at the bar and a male prostitute or two for three-way solace. In time, Mayfield was regularly fucking Boyd in a double penetration with other men.

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