The Drifter - Cover

The Drifter

Copyright© 2016 by JRyter

Chapter 15

Western Sex Story: Chapter 15 - The story of a boy who spends his younger days living in a rundown shack beside a railroad. The lonesome sound of the outward bound, gives the boy a restless itch to go west. He's thirteen when his Ma dies, and the yearning to follow the restless wind grows until there comes a day he can no longer deny his need to roam. There is some sex in this story, as the boy begins learning how to be a man.

Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Consensual   Western   White Male   Hispanic Female  

Oh, the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander

And I was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind...

It was almost sundown and we still had not seen any sign of Enrico. I was getting worried that maybe the girl he met was a young one and her folks didn’t want her to leave with a drifting vaquero. We came to a small lake with plenty of grass around it and I decided to spend the night here. We were setting up camp and making plans to ride in shifts all night to keep the horses in a close herd, when we saw Enrico and his girl riding hard toward us.

“Joss, she is very pretty. She is young but she sure has big titties,” Indira said as they rode into camp and Enrico helped his girl to the ground.

“Yep, I had suspected as much. I hope they know it’s not going to be easy on her, sitting in a saddle all day for weeks and months to come.”

“Joss ... Indira, I want you to meet Rosanna.

“Rosanna, this is Joss, my Ramrod Bossman and over here is his woman, Indira.” Enrico introduced us as soon as they walked over to where we stood.

Indira asked her, “How old are you, Rosanna?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“Your body makes you look much older, but you are the same age as Joss. I’m eighteen and I’m glad to have you with us.”

“Thank you, Indira. When I met Enrico, I wanted to leave with him the next day. But he told me he was going to hire on for a long cattle drive. Now I am so happy he came back for me. My Papa was about to make me marry one of his old drunken friends but I wanted Enrico to be my man.”


A few days later, we were back in Palo Duro Canyon. We split the new horses up in two corrals until we could break them to a saddle. Mr. Charlie told me, and I agreed, that we didn’t want to break the spirit of the wild horses, we just wanted to break them to ride.

My fifteen wranglers took the next three days to break and gentle-down the new horses in such a way they could be caught and saddled again, and again. Some, we had to rope each time, but even then, those horses gave in to being saddled once we caught them. Most of them still showed a lot of spunk every time we put a saddle on their back and a rider mounted them, but that was short lived after a few lazy bucks and farts.

Mr. Charlie had brought enough horseshoes of different sizes to shoe a hundred horses, and a whole keg of assorted horseshoe nails, just to make sure we had enough for the long trip. While the wranglers groomed the wild horses, then broke them to ride and neck-rein, I spent my days shoeing each of them. Panchito and Nicholas were with me, making sure the wild horses stood still and didn’t kick me as I worked with them.

The front shoes were hardly any problem as I pulled a horse’s leg back under him at the knee and stepped across it with his hoof bottom-up between my knees. I cleaned it with my pick and cut away the inside of the hoof with my curved, hoof-knife so the shoe would fit. I had a tall block of wood which I used to lift a horse’s front hoof onto, out in front of him, while shaping the hoof with my nippers. After trimming the hoofs, I used my rasp on the rough edges and shaped them to fit the shoe tight to his hoof, before nailing the shoe in place. Working with the hind legs could be dangerous, or even deadly if a horse is prone to kicking. At times, it took five men to hold a horse while I trimmed and shaped their back hooves, then cold-sized the shoes and nailed them on.

Mr. Charlie told me, “Joss, you’re doing a great job and you’ve taken a load off me with the way you’re handling the breaking of the horses, then shoeing them. I figure we have about half the horses we’ll need before we start rounding up the stray cattle from the brush country and the grassy valleys down as far as the Pecos River.”

“If we run upon a few strays and small herds of cattle on our trip down south, do you want us to start driving them back too?”

“If you and your men can handle the wild horses and wild cattle at the same time, bring all of them back you can. We have close to five hundred head of Longhorns here in the canyon now, but we’ll need better than two thousand before we head out. You’ll find out on this roundup down south, wild cattle drive way better in a small herd than they do in twos and threes.”

Two days later, Enrico and I gathered our new wranglers again. With our women, our pack horses, and Abuelo on his chuckwagon, we headed south this time, toward Lubbock. Our wranglers were leading an extra horse, just in case we had to chase down a herd and have a need of fresh horses before a day was over.

We were told that there were plenty of wild horses and Longhorns too, between Lubbock and Fort Stockton. Maury told us that the area along the Pecos River grasslands was home to many more head. Since he was familiar with the places we were going, I let him lead the way.

Ten days out of Palo Duro Canyon, we came upon the Pecos. We could see the walls of the fort from here and picked a place to set up camp where there was a wide, flat bank.

Indira and Rosanna helped Abuelo – whose name Indira told me, meant grandfather – set up the camp. The rest of us secured our horses then set in to chopping down Willow and Cottonwood saplings to build our main corral.

The Willows along the Pecos grow tall and slender and we picked the ones which were six to eight inches across the cut end. Then we cut them into poles ten foot long, for posts. The Cottonwood grows tall and stout and we cut them into twelve foot lengths. Then, we split them down the middle, using an axe and wedges, to make the rails around the corral.

The first day, I had all our men cutting down poles and splitting rails. The second day, I started half the men digging post-holes and setting posts while the rest kept cutting down more small trees and saplings. At the end of the fourth day, we had our corral built. One side of the wide circle was built out into the edge of the river so the horses could drink without letting them out and risk having to round them up again.

During the time we had been working on the corral, we had seen small herds of horses come to the river and drink. Maury had followed them as they moved back out across the grassy plain to join the main herd.

At daylight on our fifth day on the Pecos, we started our roundup of wild horses. We needed thirty more good mounts and we were going to be picky with this bunch.

We didn’t want to chase them, so Enrico suggested we lead our extra horses slowly out to the herd as we cut out the ones we wanted. Then as our wranglers began to move up closer behind the herd, we would walk our horses in front of them. This worked better than trying to drive them back to the river, then having to chase them if they were spooked into a stampede. They followed Pintar and our other remuda horses right into the large corral. When we had a head count, there were thirty-one new mounts inside the corral.

Abuelo had plenty of cotton plow-line in his wagon, so we began making rope halters for each of the newly captured horses.

We were out early the next day scouting for cattle when we came upon two Mexicans headed south on horseback, leading two more horses.

Enrico and Maury began talking to them, and though I had learned a few Mexican words from Indira, I didn’t know enough to understand what they were saying. Besides, most of the words Indira taught me was cuss words she yelled when we were fucking like wild animals. I’ll sure be glad when we get back and take some time alone up the canyon so we can catch up on our loving.

“Joss, they told us that tomorrow is the day of the bronc riding contests at the fort. They told us that they get five American dollars if they take a wild horse to the contest and he cannot be rode,” Enrico told me.

“What does it cost to enter the riding contest?”

“They say it costs five American dollars for a rider to join the contest and the winner gets all the money.”

“I’d like to go across the river in the morning and join that contest. We’ll need some men to stay with the herds though. I’d hate to lose all we’ve worked for.”

Maury volunteered, “Joss, I will stay here with Abuelo and our other wranglers. We will give Enrico our dollars to place wagers on your riding for us.”

The next morning after we’d eaten biscuits and gravy, I rode across the Pecos with Indira, Enrico, Rosanna, and four of the wranglers. The rest of the men stayed with the herd. Each of them gave Enrico two dollars to wager on me riding all the horses for the day. I felt bad about them betting their good money on my riding ability, but at the same time, it made me want to be the best rider in the contest today.

We took six of our wild horses with us in hopes of making money off them too.

I paid my fee to enter the contest, then gave Indira twenty dollars of my money to wager on me, when we spotted the Mexican man taking bets. She had five dollars of her money she was going to bet on me.

There were sixteen riders entered and after I paid my fees, I drew my number from the sack, which was good for all the go-rounds. I drew number one and I knew this was going to bring me luck for the day.

The way the go-rounds worked, all riders rode in the first go-round. If a rider got bucked off, he was out. Then the remaining riders rode the second go-round. The same with the third go-round and on down the line until there was just one rider, who took all the money.

I had just rode my tenth horse on the day and the last rider in the go-round was bucked off as soon as they turned the horse loose.

I walked over to collect my earnings from the tall, fat Mexican who was holding all the money. When he handed me my winnings, he bet me a hundred American dollars against his horse and saddle that I couldn’t stay on his horse for one full minute.

“How much is your horse and saddle worth,” I asked him as I looked the tall, solid black horse over. He sure is a beauty standing there.

“I paid four hundred American dollars for him as a colt and two hundred for the best saddle, bridle and breast collar money can buy in Mexico.”

“I don’t really need another horse ... If I ride him, I’ll sell him back to you, saddle and all, for one thousand American dollars,” I was feeling cocky because I had just won eighty dollars. As soon as I said it, I felt bad. I could tell I had made him very angry.

“Ride him if you can, Gringo! I’ll pay you double your bet to get him back ... that is – if – you can ride him!”

“Señor, I was only making a joke. I’d hate to take your money or your horse this way. We can call it quits now and we’ll leave here with what money I’ve already won in the contest.” I really did feel bad about this.

“Hombre, you are a young greenhorn Gringo and you have a lot to learn about betting on a wealthy Mexican’s horse. You will be known forever as cobarde perro amarillo if you do not honor your challenge.”

I turned to Enrico and he leaned close to whisper, “Amigo, he just called you a yellow dog coward if you do not honor his challenge.”

“Señor, you have a bet, but first, let the woman here hold your money and my money. When I leave here, I do not want to fight my way back across the Pecos.”

“Ride, Gringo, Ride – I am an honorable man ... Though, you will not have to worry about your winnings. That horse has never known but one rider.”

I walked toward the corral, then turned to see Enrico, Indira and Rosanna putting down more money in front of the rich Mexican.

There were so many people hanging on the rails of the corral, it looked like it was made of people instead of posts and rails. Two men stood with the tall black stallion between them in the center of the corral when I walked out to mount up. I saw one of them quickly take his hand from the back of the saddle and before I stepped into the stirrup, I ran my fingers underneath the saddle to find three large burs. I tossed them in the man’s face and mounted the Mexican’s horse.

His men let the bridle go as soon as I had my left foot in the stirrup. This big horse was bucking like a wild one, by the time I managed to get my right leg across the saddle and my boot in the stirrup. With my hat held high in my left hand just for show, I had a grip on the braided leather reins in my right hand. Before we had danced across the corral and back, I knew I was going to win a lot of money for myself and for my friends.

Finally, I saw the white flag waving up and down and kept on riding the horse until he stopped bucking. Then he broke into a high-stepping trot around the corral to the whoops, hollers and yells of the all Mexicans, Blacks and Whites, alike.

In the center of the corral, I stepped from the saddle and walked around to pull the horse’s head down. “You are much of a horse, amigo. I thank you for the ride and for making me lots of money today. I wish I could own you, but right now, I need the money more than I need another horse.”

I dropped the reins on the ground in front of him and walked toward the corral fence. When I stepped through the rails and looked back, the horse had followed me. The yells and hollering started again when the crowd saw this.

I was grinning and I held my hand out, even before I reached the rich Mexican.

“Gringo, here is all your money ... I will pay you well to come with me to Mexico this very day and work on my ranch training my horses.”

“Señor, I already have a job working for Mr. Charlie Goodnight. I do appreciate your offer and if I had the time, I would gladly take you up on it.”

“Come back here to Fort Stockton when you leave Goodnight, Hombre. Ask for Manuel de LaGuardia and anyone here can tell you where to find me.”

“Señor LaGuardia, I really do appreciate your offer and if I happen to get back this way again in my travels, I will look you up.” I was folding the money and stuffing it into my pocket with my left hand, shaking his hand with my right.

“Joss, how much did he pay you for riding his horse? Did he really pay you double the amount of your bet?” Indira asked as we walked away

“He sure did and with my winnings, I made more money today than I could in ten years working for a living. How much did you win?”

“I had won ten dollars, betting on you in the contest. Then I won another twenty off Señor LaGuardia when I bet on you again to ride his horse.”

“You did well, Indira. Save your money while we’re on this roundup and trail drive. I’ll pay your way if we need anything that’s not furnished by Mr. Charlie.”

“If I save my money, will you let me help you buy some acres when you add more land to your Kansas spread?”

“Would you really do that?”

“Yes ... I want to be your woman more than ever now. I want to have your babies and work cattle with you.”

“Indira, we need to slip off from camp tonight and bathe in the Pecos upstream from the others.

“YES, I am so excited right now, I could fuck you on your horse.”

“One day, we will do that too. I love riding naked with a woman sitting on me like that.”


I had Abuelo, Indira and Rosanna up long before daylight the next morning. I knew we would have a long hard day in the saddle and we’d need to start out with a full belly. Indira mixed her biscuit dough in a large dishpan, then cut the biscuits out using an empty bean can for a biscuit cutter. Rosanna would swipe both sides of the round biscuit dough through some hot grease and place them in Abuelo’s, Dutch Ovens – large, deep pots made of cast iron, with a lid on them. The bottom of each Dutch Oven would hold fifteen biscuits and they cooked three of them full each morning.

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