The Apache horse trainer, Tarak, young, tall, muscular, the long, black hair on his head flowing about him as he moved, danced around the palomino stallion, Diablo, in the corral at Clyde Daniels' Almost Heaven ranch outside Albuquerque. Stan Jordan and his eighteen-year-old son, Jamie, eyed the handsome Apache as they rode up on their horses, one of which was the mare Daniels had agreed to let his prize stallion cover. The Jordan ranch lay a two-hours horse ride north along the banks of the Rio Grande River in the New Mexico Territory toward Santa Fe. The Daniels and Jordan families had been among the longest present ranchers in the territory and often socialized and traded livestock.
"Diablo has been rip snorting all day," Daniels said, as Jordan and his son, a handsome, well-formed blond youth, dismounted. "I think he's more than ready to go. Why don't you put your mare in with him right off and we'll see if he'll perform."
"Sounds good to me, Clyde," the older Jordan answered.
Daniels smiled at the younger Jordan, "I'm glad you came along, Jamie. It's been too long since I've had the pleasure."
Jamie smiled back, knowing what Clyde Daniels meant by that and hoping, certainly, that his father did not. But his father hadn't seemed to notice anything going on between his boy and the neighboring rancher since they started up with each other shortly after Jamie turned eighteen. Clyde Daniels was a single man. There was a very good reason for that. He was a wealthy, handsome, large-boned, virile man of commanding presence in his forties who attracted many of the few available women in the region in 1881, but he was having none of that.
Daniels called over to Tarak to hold Diablo while they opened the gate to put the mare inside and then to stand aside to see if and how soon nature would take its course.
"Even if it takes right away," Daniels said to Stan, "we should leave them together until later this afternoon. Diablo's good for several covers in a day and the more he breeds your mare the more likely it will take."
"Sounds about right," Jordan said. "That's why I brought Jamie along. I have to get back to the ranch, but he can stay and ride the mare back later this afternoon."
Daniels smiled. "Sounds like a plan," he said, and, indeed, it did set really well with his own plans. He had been scheming how to get the younger Jordan separated from the elder and Stan had played directly into his intent.
As the mare, skittish and trembling, entered the corral and Diablo took notice and began to snort and hoof the ground, the Apache horse trainer went over to the side and perched on the fence, observing and ready to intervene if need be. The three others lined up on another side of the fence, Daniels between the two Jordans, to watch.
It wasn't long before Diablo had nudged the mare out into the center of the corral and was moving around her. And it wasn't too long after that that the mare, trembling but holding steady, legs splayed and head hanging in submission, was being mounted from the rear. A huge, pinkish shaft was unreeling itself from underneath the stallion's hindquarters, and as the stallion covered the mare, his front legs hugging her flanks, and the men all watching closely, the shaft found position and penetrated, moving deep. throbbing, the mare's flanks pulsating. The mare whinnied but held and the stallion snorted, moving deep inside her, pumping her full of his cum. Those watching could almost discern the rhythm of the release by the rippling of her flanks. It scared her, but she was in season. She wanted it.
Stan didn't notice, but as the deed was being done, Daniels moved a hand to cup one of Jamie's butt cheeks and squeeze. The young man didn't move away from the hand, but Daniels might have had a little concern to have observed that Jamie's gaze went from the stallion covering the mare to the young Apache sitting on the fence. Tarak was bare-chested, his musculature very fine and bronzed, and otherwise was only covered in low-hanging buckskin pants, with moccasins on his feet. As much of a stud stallion as Diablo was in his own realm, Tarak was a magnificent example of young male flesh, not more than twenty-five and in his prime. Sensing he was being spied upon, he turned his eyes toward the younger Jordan and smiled. Jamie smiled back.
Thus far it only had been the older, albeit quite fit, Clyde Daniels for Jamie and then only on a couple of occasions because of the miles of separation between spreads. The young man had lost his virginity--recently and willingly--to the man in a hay shed during a dance after a barn raising just south of Albuquerque, both men more than half drunk, Jamie ripe and ready. All it took was for the big, overpowering rancher to embrace the smaller guy, standing and swaying against each other, with Clyde freeing and frotting their cocks. When Jamie was panting and virtually begging for it, Clyde bent him over a hay bale and mounted and fucked his virginity out of him.
A few months later now, and after three sessions under Daniels, Jamie was ready to try out a younger, even more fit model. A couple of men in the region had made their interest obvious, but none of them stood out. Apaches intrigued him, not least because the mixing of the races was quite taboo in the New Mexico Territory at the time. Going with men wasn't unthinkable, there still being a dearth of women in the territory, but an Apache who covered a white man was begging for a lynching. That didn't, of course, lessen Jamie's interest at all.
Having seen the young Apache, Tarak, at the Daniels' ranch now had Jamie fairly panting.
Diablo was only mounted on the mare for a few minutes before he came off, leaving the quaking mare, legs splayed, holding steady in the center of the ring. Snorting and tossing his glorious blond mane, the gorgeous Palomino cantered around the corral, moving in circles around the mare. The mare, still shuddering a bit, remained standing in the middle of the corral. The stallion obviously was feeling his oats. He pranced and cantered and tossed his mane and it wasn't long until he was behind the mare again, rising up on top of her from the rear, hugging her flanks between his forelegs, rolling out his huge shaft again, penetrating her and, with a gentle rocking motion, pumping her with his cum again.
The stallion was all proud business and the mare was holding for it.
"Well, if that don't do it, I don't know what will," Daniels said when Diablo came off the mare. "Why don't you men come in for a drink before you have to ride out, Stan? I've got some mighty fine whiskey--and I think we can find something to refresh Jamie with too." He was talking to the elder Jordan, but his eyes were on the withering pink rod of the stallion, the last of its cum dribbling onto the ground.
