Two Sides of the Same Coin (57 page)

“Reach over and hand me the lube, buddy.” I lubed up his cock and ass. I slid a finger inside him, causing him to moan in pleasure. I worked it a bit, brushing his gland as I moved it in and out. He was whimpering with pleasure. Every time I’d rub my finger against his prostate, his dick would twitch. Finally, after a few minutes of working his ass, I took a hold of his cock and started to stroke. His eyes rolled back in his head as I slowly worked my hand up and down his shaft. I was hard, and by the way we were positioned, I was poking his balls with my cock.

“Jeffy, that feels so good. I like the way you look at me when you’re playin’ with me.”

“You seem to love it when I do anything with that cute ass of yours.”

“Oh yeah, I do. I love it when you’re in me. It’s turnin’ me on the way your dick is touchin’ my balls when I move.”

“Just lay back and enjoy.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“I like makin’ you feel good. It turns me on. Say my name, buddy.”

“Jeffy. You’re my Jeffy.”

“That I am. Your Jeffy’s makin’ you feel good, ain’t he?”

“Hell yeah. This feels fantastic. I love it when you touch my cock.”

“Feels good to have someone else’s hands on it, don’t it?”

“It feels good to have your hands on it.” He continued to look up at me, smiling his pleasure, and once in a while his eyes would roll back in his head, or he’d close them, just concentrating on the pleasure I was working to give him. He was moaning louder, and I could see his balls drawing up against his body. “Yeah, Jeffy, make me shoot.”

“Just enjoy, buddy; your Jeffy’s finger fuckin’ you good, jackin’ you good.” I could feel his dick swell. His whole body seemed to tense and he let loose. His prostate throbbed against my finger as his prick throbbed in my hand. I kept up a gentle movement until he sagged back, totally depleted and relaxed. I lay down next to him and just held him. After a few minutes, he lay on his side facing me and started to kiss me. It was gentle, but insistent. He leaned into me as I lay back and explored my mouth with his tongue. I could feel his hand move down my body, and finally grope my balls and then rub my cock. I’d been hard for a while, and it felt real good. I moaned into his mouth, and he broke the kiss. He’d lubed up his hand and began stroking me.

“That’s what you want, ain’t it, Jeff? You want your buddy’s hand on that big dick of yours.” I moaned back incoherently. It felt like my entire body was centered in my dick.

“Your buddy’s takin’ care of you now, makin’ you feel real good. Givin’ ya what you want, what you need.” He was whispering in my ear. He came back and started kissing me again. He was a bit rougher this time, nibbling my lip and pushing his face into mine harder. He kept the same rhythm on my cock, playing me like an instrument. I was so hard it hurt, but it was a good hurt. I wanted to prolong this incredible sensation.

“You like havin’ your buddy Mike take care of ya, don’t ya? Suckin’ your cock when ya need a blowjob, lendin’ a hand and strokin’ that big piece of meat when that’s what ya want, sharin’ his ass ’cause you like to fuck. I’m takin’ good care of ya, ain’t I, Jeffy? Just let me keep strokin’ that big prick. Make you feel good, real good.” I registered what he was saying, but I was so involved in the pure sexual enjoyment of his touch and words, I couldn’t respond.

“We take care of each other, don’t we, Jeffy; you fuck real good, keep me happy. Now I’m makin’ you feel good. You really like me stroking ya. Feels good don’t it? You just take your time. I could stroke your big dick all day.” We kissed more. I felt myself tensin’, gettin’ ready to explode; he picked up on it.

“You gonna cum for me, Jeffy? You want to shoot, don’t you? Your buddy’s drainin’ your balls. Shoot for me; shoot that big cannon of yours. Show me how much you enjoy me takin’ care of ya. Show me.” He started to kiss me again and I lost it. I shot and shot and shot. It seemed to go on for minutes. Finally, I fell back, relaxed and drained. He settled in my arms.

“Thanks, buddy, that was real nice.”

“You like it when I talk to ya, don’t ya?”

“Yeah, it gets me goin’.”

“I’ll remember that. Ya like it when I say your name too.”

“Yep.” We lay back for a while, content just to be all intertwined. Finally, we got up and jumped in the shower.

The sounds of Cajun and Zydeco music floated on the air. I could smell the gumbo. It had a rich spicy smell. Mike had said it was chicken and sausage. He and I had put on flashy rodeo-type cowboy shirts. So had Smitty, and Sandy was actually wearing a skirt and nice blouse. I guess they were trying to impress one another.

“I stopped by the co-op on my way to Sandy’s house to look at the exhibit.” Maria was looking at me.

“It was very nice. Mary Grace did a beautiful job.”

“Thanks, Maria.”

“Sí, boss, the exhibit is very good. I went into town last night to look at it. Mike, you are a real vaquero with your horsehair belts.”

“I also notice you have two new pictures on the mantelpiece.” Smitty was pretty observant. Josh, Renee, and Maria went over to look.

“Those are great, Jeff, Mike.” Josh was still looking at the pictures.

“You two look so happy in both of them. It’s obvious how close you two are.” Renee was standing beside Josh, looking.

“Mary Grace asked me if it would be a good idea to get copies made for you. I told her you would love ’em.”

“Thanks, Sandy, we do.”

“Then let’s do a shot for a successful exhibition!” Sandy raised her glass of Knob Creek.

“Cheers.” The whiskey went down smooth; it had a bit of a kickback, a sharp anise bite with a hint of smoke.

“Good stuff.”

“You and Mike got enough of it.”

“Darlin’, you can’t ever have too much good whiskey on hand.”

“Let’s see if you say that next time you’re hungover, Jeff.”

“Sandy, that was low, real low.” Everyone laughed. Mike snuggled into me. He was getting more and more comfortable being himself around our friends.

“Will ya lookit’ out there?” Smitty pointed outside. The day had been cold and gray. It had stayed in the low thirties all day. As it got to twilight, the clouds over the mountains grew darker and heavy. Snow was falling.

“I love the first snowfall. It is so beautiful.” Maria had moved over to the window. We all followed.

“Ski season, here we come!” I loved the first snowfall too. To me it held the promise of skis, snowshoes, ice hockey, and snowshoe softball, things that made the short, dark days of northern Washington something to look forward to.

“Do you know how to cross country ski, Smitty?”

“Sandy, can’t say there’s too much opportunity in south Texas.”

“Well, I’ll teach ya.”

“Boss, you can teach me, too, no?” José looked at me and Maria chimed in.

“Me too.”

“I reckon when we got enough snow, everyone can gather here, and Sandy and I can teach ya.” I looked out the window. We’d had a few nights of hard freezes and cold gray days, so the ground was frozen. The snow was sticking.

“To snow!” Mike raised his glass this time. We all followed. I reckoned that if Sandy and Maria kept drinking, they were gonna have to stay. Mike noticed the same thing, so he went into the kitchen and set everything out.

“Dinner’s ready, come and get it before I throw it out!” Mike gave a traditional cowboy call to chow. He explained that you put either rice or potato salad in your bowl (everyone did a double take when they heard potato salad even though Mike had mentioned it before) and then ladle the gumbo over it. He had a couple of bottles of Tabasco for those of us who like hot food.

Mike’s gumbo was delicious. It had a thick, dark broth that was spicy and had some undercurrent I couldn’t place. The chunks of chicken and sausage were real tender and they floated with little chunks of pepper, onion, and celery. It was a great meal to celebrate the first snowfall.

“This is great, Mike.” Everyone was shouting their praise of his cooking.

“You really are a great cook, buddy.”

He leaned over and said real soft, “Thanks, Jeffy, good cook, good in bed, good friend, good to talk to and hang with, what more could ya want?”

“Absolutely nothin’ more, I got it all.” I leaned in and gave him a kiss. Of course Sandy had to comment.

“There they go again!”

“Sandy, I wanted to tell you just how nice you look this evenin’. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but I ain’t seen you wear a skirt in a month of Sundays. When you’re all dressed up like that, you look even more beautiful. Any special reason you got all dressed up tonight?” She turned red. So did Smitty.

“Uh… no, I just felt like it.”

“At first I thought there’s gotta be some reason; I always think of you like the Brooks and Dunn song, ‘Mama Don’t Get Dressed Up For Nothing’. In any case, you look fantastic.”

“Thanks!” Everyone was tryin’ hard not to laugh.

“I hear you’re all gonna go carolin’ with Jeffy and me on Thanksgivin’ weekend?”

“And every weekend until Christmas.” Smitty nodded.

“That’s great; it should be lots of fun.”

“To Christmas At the End of the Road!” Josh proposed a toast to Winslett’s Christmas fair.

“Cheers!” we all echoed. After eating, it seemed we all had a nice comfortable buzz going.

“It’s too bad Wayne couldn’t be here. He’s had a tough fall. First of all, my dad passin’ away, then gettin’ shot, and now his mom dyin’.” I raised my glass. “To Wayne.”

Everyone echoed, “To Wayne.” We drank the round in silence.

I looked at Maria and raised my glass. “To Pedro, a great guy and good friend who we all miss.” Everyone drank to Pedro while Maria’s eyes shimmered with tears as she smiled a sad smile.

Finally, José mentioned that if Wayne and Pedro were here, they’d be the life of the party, and neither of them would let us get sad on their account.

We started talking about games to play. We decided on charades. It was a really funny round when Josh got up, picked his piece of paper, and thought for a second. He chuckled and then made the sign for movie. His team yelled out.

“Movie.” He gave a thumbs up and pointed to me and Mike.

“
Brokeback Mountain
,” Smitty yelled it out. José clicked his stopwatch.

“Six seconds, that is going to be very hard to beat.” We kept playing, stopping occasionally for a toast, or to go look at the snow. The phone rang at about ten o’clock. I took it in the kitchen.

“Lucky Jeff Ranch, Jeff speakin’.”

“Jeff, it’s Sheriff Johnston. What’s going on?”

“This mornin’ Mike and I were havin’ breakfast in One Eyed Jack’s; Mark the ranger came up to us. After chattin’ for a while, he asked how we were doin’ after the break-in last night. He said you’d mentioned it when he saw you in the office this mornin’.”

“I didn’t go into the office this morning. It looks like he’s involved. I’ll go pay him a little visit tomorrow morning and see what he has to say.”

“Sir, I am really happy to see somethin’ happen with this. I wanna enjoy life rather than hide in the house like a scared rabbit.”

“I understand, son. Sandy and Maria are there with you now, aren’t they?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell her it’s best if they stay there rather than come back into town. Roads are very slippery now. That is if it’s okay with you.”

“I’ll let her know, sir. She and Maria are welcome any time.”

“Thanks, Jeff; I’ll let you know what’s going on after I talk to Mark tomorrow.”

“Thanks, sir.” We rung off.

“Hey, Sandy, that was your dad. He wanted me to let you know the roads are real slippery. You’re welcome to stay here, you, too, Maria.”

“We are very lucky to have good friends like you and Mike, Jeff; thank you.”

“Maria’s right. We are lucky to have friends like you. Thanks.”

At about one-thirty, Sandy looked at me.

“It’s gettin’ pretty late; I’m about ready to hit the hay.” We said our good nights. The girls went off to the spare room downstairs, and the guys and Renee headed out to the bunkhouse. Mike and I turned off the lights and set the alarm before heading upstairs. It was cold upstairs. The fireplace and whiskey had kept us nice and warm in the living room. Mike and I shucked our clothes and crawled into bed.

“Hey, buddy, penny for your thoughts.”

“I was just thinkin’ how lucky I am. Sandy and Maria was talkin’ on how lucky they are to have us for friends; I’m lucky to have them and you. I ain’t ever loved nobody as much as I love you, Jeff. Sometimes it’s so strong, it’s like a separate force.”

“I love you, too, buddy. I said before and I’ll say it again, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Now snuggle up, and let’s hold each other and keep each other warm. We done used up this day.” We fell asleep to the softly, silently falling snow.

Chapter Twenty-Three

M
ONDAY
dawned cold and gray. Mike and I lay in bed looking up at the skylight and out the window. It was obviously below freezing. Everything was quiet, even the birds seemed trying to keep warm. Looking up at the skylight, I could see that no new snow was falling. We were snuggled together to keep warm.

“Buddy, we’re gonna have to put another blanket on the bed, or start wearin’ our long handles to sleep.”

“I got an electric blanket, Jeffy. How ’bout we use that?”

“When we’re up and movin’ around, how ’bout you get it?”

“Okay. I wanna stay nekkid with you in bed. I don’t wanna have to wear underwear to bed.”

“Me neither, buddy, so let’s see if that blanket works.”

We jumped up and got dressed in our long handles and heavy wool socks. Since the girls were here, we threw on jeans and heavy flannel shirts before headin’ downstairs. Sandy had already made a pot of coffee, and she was cooking pancakes. Smitty had an apron tied on and was helping her. Maria was sittin’ at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. I was debating saying something about Sandy and Smitty, but since they were cooking, I kept my mouth shut.

“Smells great.”

Smitty looked at me real concerned and upset like. “Jeff, you gotta see somethin’ outside.” Given his tone, I just followed him into the mudroom and pulled on my boots, a coat, and my cowboy hat. He, Mike, and I walked out into the yard. I could see the tracks of two sets of boots coming from the bunkhouse; they obviously belonged to Smitty and José. There were a bunch of other tracks in the snow. Tracks that went by Sandy’s car, my truck, and Mike’s truck, and up to the door, as well as stopping by the windows, as whoever those tracks belonged to tried to see inside. The tracks were made by cowboy boots. The heels showed deep wear as if the owner of the boots was pigeon-toed. I wasn’t a hundred percent certain, but I thought it was the same track as one of the rustlers had.