Sheep Ranching Ch. 02

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White-out conditions are never fun. We get late March blizzards in Wyoming, but this was into its third day. The forecast said it would break around midnight, but the animals didn’t know that, so I had to make my way to the barn and look in on them. Fortunately, I’d strung a wire from the house to the barn so I could get there without getting lost. I know two other sheep ranchers who died in the snow because they couldn’t find their way to or from the barn in a white-out.

It wasn’t fun, running my gloved hand along the wire as I trudged while carrying my pack over my right shoulder, my face in a mask pulled down and a scarf around my neck. With the parka, overalls, and snow boots, I was warm enough but the driving snow stung my eyes. Betty offered to take a turn, but I’m not letting anyone go out in my place to do the chores in bad weather there unless I’m flat on my back and sicker than a dog. God knows, the woman could do anything I can. Hell, on Christmas she rolled naked in the snow for two straight minutes on a dare. Course, it meant I had to hold her close half the night as she shivered, but I didn’t mind that.

Finally I got to the barn, got the door open and went in to take a look around. The sheep were all huddled together, baaing loudly to see me, and I had to warm up before I fed them. You have to sprint to pour out a trough of feed for them or the damn things will knock you over trying to get at it. Getting trampled is no fun. I looked I on the horses, who were happy to see me as well. I fed them first, stroking them a little as they greeted me individually. Their situation was good, so I filled a 5 gallon bucket of grain from the feed storage for the flock.

Taking a deep breath, I made a break for it, running at top speed while pouring the grain out, while the surge of four legged wool came after me. Who says I don’t get any exercise? I beat them to the end of the feeding trough and was able to stop. Sauntering back, I filled another bucket and did another sprint down the trough on the other side, and all was good. Their water wasn’t frozen, and the thermometer indicated the place was comfortably above freezing.

Nothing needed maintenance, so I waded back through the snow to the house, making a detour once I got there to check the generator shed. We might be able to live without it, God knows my great-grandfather did without when he first settled here, but it was better to make sure it was in good shape. It was, and there was plenty of gas in the reserve tank to last until the roads were open again. Time to settle in.

Betty was at the stove when I came in. She did about two things well there: the classic breakfast combo of bacon and eggs, and variations on lamb stew. I did everything else in the kitchen, and she did everything else in the house. The place was comfortably tidy without being obsessive about it. My house is a one level ranch house with three bedrooms, and I keep it pretty tight to keep in the heat. The furnace mainly keeps the pipes from freezing, and we spend most of our time in the main room in front of the fire in the winter time, even sleep in front of it.

“Make sure and take off your boots,” she said as the door closed. “You forget and track ice all over the damn place too often.”

“Yes, mother,” I replied in a caustic tone. “You want me to wash my hands before dinner?”

“And your mind. A horny guy like you probably thinks being snowed in with a girl means you can have your way with her day and night.”

I felt a tingle with those words: that was Betty’s way of coming on. Sure, we don’t have a warm and fuzzy relationship other than spooning on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, but we’ve settled into something special. Hell, meeting her last summer was one of the best things that happened to me for a couple of decades.

“Well, you wear a hot outfit like that, a guy can’t help himself. Almost ready to bust my fly thinking Van Escort about tapping that ass.” Betty was wearing a rather formless nightgown under a housecoat, with fuzzy pink slippers, and no makeup. She was growing her hair out, and the black locks hung to her shoulders. In a month of so, she’d cut it short before we went out to the high pastures. She was tall and strong, not terribly skinny nor really fat. Her ass was big, but not as big as the mountains. However, I did want to tap her ass sometime soon.

She turned to bat her eyes at me extravagantly. “Just remember castration season might start before spring gets here.”

I laughed at her. “How soon on the food?”

“Let’s give it about thirty minutes, maybe forty five. Should be edible by then.”

“Great. I’ll do a pan of cornbread, put together a salad.”

“I’ll take a bath. That’ll give you time to check the news and farm prices online. Just don’t surf the damn porn sites and get any more stupid ideas I’ll have to say ‘no’ to, Bill Davis.”

Getting stone ground cornmeal, flour, baking soda and power, and buttermilk together with salt and pepper in a bowl was no big problem; I don’t know why anybody uses a mix for this. The oven was already warm because Betty was reading my mind again. After putting the pan in, putting the salad together was pretty easy as well, although we do use a salad spinner on my ranch. We’re not without a few luxuries.

The snow was still coming down pretty good, and we’d probably have to spend the afternoon shoveling it off the roof. The house is pretty sturdy, however I don’t like to take chances. We started yesterday with that wonderful task, and it took the rest of the day for us to recover. Hell, we aren’t spring chickens. Soaking in the hot bathtub together afterward was pretty nice even though we weren’t up for any more exercise.

A check online showed everything was reasonable. We’d made enough profit this past year to make a couple of safe investments that weren’t destroying the earth or robbing the Third World very much, and they were producing as expected. Sheep prices were all right, and the outlook was good. The weather radar indicated the snow was tapering off and would be gone soon. The only bad news was an email from my son Johnny telling me he’d have to sign up for another tour overseas. There were adorable grandchildren pictures on Facebook, and I liked them all as a good grandpa should.

She came out in green sweats and barefoot. That woman could take the cold like no one I’d ever met. “Well, are we broke yet?”

“Nope. Got a couple of new ideas, though. Want to hang you upside down from the ceiling with your legs spread and sodomize you with a baseball bat. Game?”

“Damn, do we have a baseball bat around here? You are such a romantic.” She gave me a peck on the cheek and bit my ear lightly. “Dinner ready?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

Everything was good, and we listened to the Saturday Metropolitan Opera broadcast as we ate. It was French and pretty agreeable; at least they weren’t doing Wagner. Betty was lost in thought and didn’t say much, and I wasn’t talkative either. I thought about the past year, and still couldn’t believe it. She was as good a sheep rancher as I was, and once I got to know her, the most fantastic woman I’d come across in years. It thought I’d live like a monk in my old age, but it didn’t seem so. She told me she loved me and we were soulmates. I agreed.

After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes and I went outside to look at the roof. We weren’t going to have to clear it after all, which made me happy. I stepped out of my shoes, took off my outwear and crossed to my bedroom to get into my pajamas. Hell, we weren’t going to be entertaining anybody except each other the rest of that day.

Betty was lying in front of the fire on the bearskin rug. “Guess the snow’s letting up since you’re in your jammies.”

“Yeah, it’ll be Van Escort Bayan light the rest of the day but we’ll be fine for now. Everything’s fed and watered, so I’m free the rest of the day.”

“Good.” She stretched out in from of the fire and patted the rug behind her. The opera was still going on, and I threw another log on the fire before settling in behind her. My hand went around her waist and found her nipple. Milking it gently, I made her shiver and snuggle her butt back against me, which made my dick reach out and probe her ass. Life was good. I milked her nipple harder and she purred.

After a while she murmured, “Better get that pump primed, I’m gonna need it in a few months.”


“Got the test results back from the Doctor today. Confirmed. Company coming.”

“Oh. When?”

“A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving.”

I held her closer and leaned over her shoulder blade, putting my face next to hers. “You want to get married?” I asked.

“Don’t matter to me. If we were about twenty years younger, sure, but I don’t think anybody cares about it anymore.”

“Yeah. Our folks are all dead and my kids won’t care. We’re partners anyway, and all we need do is make a few adjustments in our paperwork ’bout who gets what when we die.”

“Sounds good. Simpler is better.”

The opera reached its climax, and we listened to it. When the applause started, I switched it off and went back to lay behind her. As I cuddled up to her again, she said, “Knew I should have bit your balls off when I had the chance.”

I smacked her butt hard, almost loud enough to shake the snow off the roof. “Too bad I can’t put my brand on you since you’ve just become breeding stock.”

Shaking her head and turning toward me, she made a mock frown. “Since when do sheep ranchers use brands?”

“Well, you’re no sheep, and I can’t put a identity clip in your ear. It’d look funny when we went to town.”

She lay flat on her back and smiled up at me. There was a glow in her face I’d never seen before: it was special. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, “How about a tattoo?”

“No thanks, I don’t want one.”

Smacking me on the arm, she gave me a fake look of anger. “No stupid, I know you’re too big a weenie to get one. Me, you can tattoo me. I’m not afraid, already got this rose on my chest.”

It was a sweet picture, just above her left breast, so I knew should could take the needle. “You want to get it when we go to town next?”

“No,” she said. “I want you to do it, mark me yourself, right on my hip. Put your mark on my ass and I’ll always be yours.”

The thought had a strange appeal. It was a personal way to claim her that would always be there. And I didn’t want to imagine a future without her, we were soulmates and I knew we’d never part. “I know I’ve got your balls forever, and rings are too dangerous for ranchers to wear,” she said.”This is all I need to remind me I’m yours, always. You’re an artist, I’m sure you can come up with something. Get your ink out and do a little of your nice calligraphy for me. I’ll get the stuff while you work.”

I wasn’t sure what I was doing, so we found a couple of helpful videos online. It was amazing people were doing their own tattoos the old-fashioned way, and so much information was out there. Wasn’t something I wanted done to me, but it didn’t seem that crazy anymore. Betty’s face was far too serious and I knew she wasn’t joking, so I gave in and said I’d do it.

She left the room and I went over to my writing desk. I watched the snow a minute out the window and drew an elegant B D on a page. After a few minutes, she came back without her bottoms, with a huge spot of liquid reflecting from her right hip. “Did the sanitization on me and the needle. Let’s see what you got.” I showed it to her and she gave me a long kiss. “I knew it. Throw another log on the fire and we’ll make it so.”

After throwing Escort Van a lot more wood on the fire, I went to the bathroom to give my hands a thorough scrub, thinking I was a surgeon. When I got back she was laying on her stomach, her ass wiggling in invitation. I said, “Take your top off, too. It’s weird looking at just your butt. I want the whole show, I want full naked submission.”

“Yes, master,” she cackled, sticking her tongue out at me before she pulled off her top. I bent over to repeat my artwork on her flesh. She was extraordinarily still, her flesh aglow in the firelight. The first time the needle went in, she gasped and reached down in search of my cock. I pushed it away; I didn’t want to be distracted. There was a little blood, but she had a clean cloth for that, and soon I got into a rhythm. As I worked on her, her breathing got shallow and her hand went to her crotch. I got a good noseful of her nectar.

Her body stayed still while her chest heaved and her breathing got erratic. “Did you get off the first time you were tattooed?” I asked.

“Nope. I was 17 and stupid. Showed the dude my whole tit in the process. Probably why he gave me a discount. Must be because it’s you and me.”

“Well, don’t wiggle your ass so much.” It seemed to take forever to get the B done, and I had to stop for a bit to stretch my fingers afterward. I noticed I hadn’t put gloves on, but given how often we’d exchanged bodily fluids in the past few months, we probably caught anything the other had by now. Betty’s eyes were closed and she slowed down, not wanting to crest too soon. My hand relaxed and I started on the D. It was like tilling a garden during a series of earth tremors, she shuddered from time to time without warning, but I was able to get the ink under the skin while keeping the lines clean in spite of her finger fucking herself.

I finished and cleaned her up, her skin shining with disinfectant. “All right, you’re mine. Anybody else who see this is gonna think you’re into bondage and discipline.”

“Nobody’s gonna see it but you,” she said, twisting to look at my work. “Get your clothes off, Bill. Time to work your new property.”

I stripped to my skin, and gave her a long hard kiss. We’d made love many times on the rug in front of a roaring fire, but today was different. Her fires were already roaring but I wasn’t ready quite yet. She looked at me saucily, licked her lips and snarled, “I ought to bite your balls off now.”

Putting my hand over her mouth, I replied, “No, that’s not part of the deal. Besides, we might want more than one. Probably need to give the kid a playmate sometime.”

“Shit, you make too much sense. I guess if I’m gonna get a good fucking I’m gonna have to lick you hard.” Her head went down to my crotch and I lay flat on my back, my cock inflating. Her tongue bathed my balls before she sucked them in, squeezing them a little with her teeth, teasing me before letting them go and taking my cock in her mouth.

When I felt ready enough, so I pushed her off, rolled her over and put it in. It was heaven, and her tits rolled around uncontrollably as she pushed back against me as I fucked her. After a few, I pulled her to all fours, “I want to look at my brand as I fuck you.” She wiggled her ass at me, the BD I put there big and dark against her firelit skin. I thrust at her; she reached under to guide me in. Another piece of heaven it was for both of us to enjoy. It’s a good thing we don’t have neighbors, because her screams would have set off earthquake tremor alarms.

For the first time in our lovemaking, we orgasmed at the same time. Afterwards we calmed down and laid down to sweat next to each other. She looked me in the eyes and said, “Damn, that was good, Daddy.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I met ya. Good thing you’re already knocked up, or that would have done it.”

She laughed and we held each other. After a while, I got out my camera and took a picture of her laying on her side, her huge tits resting on the bearskin and the big BD laying at an angle on her huge ass. I made it the backdrop on my laptop.

We went through a lot of firewood that afternoon.

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