Warrior, Stand Tall by Erin O'Quinn

Author:Erin O'Quinn [O'Quinn, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-13T08:44:25+00:00

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Gristle and Wynn went about the business of building a campsite. Gristle cut birch branches for kindling, and Wynn took the snow-filled cauldron back and forth a few times for the horses. He brought the tinderbox, along with a tarred cloth to lay on the ground, then the large tent-sized cloth in case of rain, the metal cups, and finally the wooden box filled with ground chicory, Gristle’s addiction.

On his final trip with the cauldron, he set it over the fire that Gristle had started, while Gristle slunk through the underbrush by the pines, looking to snare a tree squirrel with his sling.

At last both men sat with full bellies in front of their fire. The sun had set half an hour ago, but they could still see the movement of kites darting and soaring and dipping. They watched the way their long, forked tail feathers twisted as they flew and changed direction close to the ground in their hunt for food.

“These birds need to visit Bear Mountain,” Wynn observed. “Fill up on supper scraps, eh?”

Gristle, close to him, looked into his tawny eyes and nodded, almost smiling. “Some creatures would rather kill their own supper. Keeps them sharp-eyed and fit.”

“Ye made a passable kill tonight,” Wynn told him.

Gristle glanced at the remains of a three-pound pine marten that he had felled with his slingshot. Wynn had scraped off the skin, and the pelt lay stretched a few feet away, brown with a soft, yellow bib and bushy tail.

“Are you saying that I am sharp-eyed and fit?” He left his cross-legged position and stretched out on the tarred blanket that protected them from the hard ground. His face was close to Wynn’s knees, and the young man reached out and lightly stroked his hair.

“Ie. I am fortunate to have ye.”

Gristle felt like probing a little tonight, to see how far he himself was willing to go.

“So you think you ‘have’ me?”

Wynn’s fingers did not hesitate in their slow movement.

“I have ye as a pony has a rider. Or as a sword has a sheath.”

Gristle felt a little nerve in his throat begin to beat and throb. “Yet who is the rider, and who the pony?”

“Griss, it matters not. We are one and the same.”

Gristle saw Wynn’s face drop close to his own, smelled the still-pungent aroma of juniper berries.

“Like a Centaur?”

“I think I know of centaurs. A man who is also a horse. That comes close to me idea of our companionship.”

“Then show me.”

Wynn shifted position in one lithe movement. Gristle felt strong hands seize his ass, pinning him facedown to the tarred cloth.

“I will show ye how I fuck assholes.”

If Gristle doubted that his lover was being humorous-serious, he left his illusions behind when he felt Wynn pull off his thong and lower his britches. He felt the boy lean over him, and then he felt the honey of his thick spit flooding into his ass crack. He spread his own butt as far as he could, while Wynn held him strongly to the ground.

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