Date: Sat, 10 Nov 2001 18:40:08 -0800 (PST)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@yahoo.com>
Subject: "My Father, My Son"  31st Installment

This is Chapter 31, a continuation of "My Father, My Son."  All of the
conditions, warnings, and disclaimers listed at the beginning of previous
chapters still apply.  All comments are welcome and will be responded to.

Send to Tom Borden:   tombor99@yahoo.com


My Father, My Son
Chapter 31

Michael and Karl had spent almost the entire weekend inventorying all of
the feed and grain in storage on the ranch, as well as equipment and
machinery.  Since the terrorists attacks in New York and Washington in the
fall, the price of Milo Maize had dropped, and the market for it had become
drastically reduced.  Ranch workers were at the moment busily harvesting
the Maize, but storage space was limited, and it became a grave concern as
to how to market it.  On Monday morning, Karl left for San Antonio, after
which he would travel to Fort Worth and Kansas City to talk to feed dealers
about the problem.

Michael stayed behind to work on the inventory and to calculate the losses
that were expected.  The news was discouraging.  By late afternoon, Maggie
came into Michael's small office that adjoined his bedroom.

"Michael," said Maggie, "as you know, Rhapsody and I spent a day this
weekend down at Raynosa, Mexico, and I picked up several bottles of that
great Mexican tequila.  Today, I shopped in Goliad and brought home some
limes and orange liqueur.  You've been working so hard today, and I know
you've got some worries over the way things are going.  Why don't you just
give it up for a little while and go on out there on the front veranda.
It's going to be a lovely evening . . . cool and fresh . . . and there's a
beautiful sunset beginning.  I've made a big pitcher of margaritas.  Go on,
Michael.  I worry about you."

"Oh, Maggie," said Michael, leaning back in his chair.  "Who's going to
worry about me like you always have after you've left us?"

Maggie walked over to Michael and knelt down beside his chair, and taking
his hand, said, "Michael, I love you, and there's no one . . . except maybe
Jeff . . . who I will miss more than you when I leave.  I would have given
the world if I could have managed to have had you for my own . . . my dear,
dear Michael.  But Karl loves you, too.  And no one could love you more
than he does."

"I know that Karl loves me," said Michael, "but there are so many who also
love Karl.  I keep thinking that what Karl and I have is so tenuous, so
fragile.  You know, Karl was once very easily tempted by others.  I worry
that it could likely happen again, especially every time he goes out of
town."

As Maggie rose to her feet, she said, "Just you make sure, Michael, that
you don't get too grasping, too jealous or insufferably possessive.  There
will be nothing that will drive a guy away quicker than that, and you know
it.  You know what his weaknesses are, or have been.  The best thing you
can do is to be tolerant to the best of your ability.  So what! he gets a
blow job from some trucker at a truck stop, or whatever, once in a while.
He's still yours, and he knows his heart belongs to you, and that your
heart belongs to him.  Lighten up, Michael.  If you don't, you might very
well be the cause of his breaking away from you someday."

Standing up and hugging Maggie, Michael said, "I'm gonna miss you Maggie.
You're like the best mom and dad anyone could have, all rolled up in one."

"I'm not old enough to be your mom, Michael!  And unless you take that
remark back, You're not getting a margarita!"

"I take it back, Maggie, but I'm still gonna miss you."

Michael folded up the papers he was working on and put them away.  Getting
out of his clothes, he showered and donned a large heavy floor length,
light blue terry-cloth robe.  When he arrived on the verandah, Maggie had
already placed the pitcher of margaritas on the table, along with several
glasses.

Maggie sat down with him and filled two glasses to the brim.  "Come on,
Michael," said Maggie, holding up her glass.  "Here's to Karl's success
with his dealings with the feed dealers!"  Finishing his margarita, Maggie
got up and said, "Michael, I'm going to leave you alone now so you can
relax.  Tony and I have dinner to prepare.  Ta ta!"

Karl had only been gone for less than a day.  But Michael missed him
already.  They often sat and watched the sunset together, and Michael would
always feel reassured when Karl would reach over and hold his hand and look
at him with such love in his eyes.  He knew that Karl might very well bow
to temptation when he was away from the ranch.  But Maggie was right, he
thought.  The important thing was for Karl to come home and reaffirm his
love for Michael.

As Michael stared dreamily out over the range land, Clayton stepped out on
the veranda.

"Uncle Michael, can I talk with you?"

"Of course.  You can talk with me anytime you wish, Clayton.  Here, please
sit down and let me fix you one of Maggie's special margaritas."

"Oh, I don't know.  I've never had one of those."

"You're old enough to vote, Clayton.  You're old enough to have a
margarita."

Michael dipped the rim of the cocktail glass into the dish of salt that
Maggie had provided, and filled it.

"Uncle Michael . . ." began Clayton.

"Please Clayton," interrupted Michael.  "Just call me Michael.  I'm not
just your uncle, I'd like to be your surrogate father, if you'd let me."

"Michael, I want you to know how much I really appreciate your letting me
visit you here.  I like everyone here.  Everyone's been so nice.  I think
it's the first time in my life that I ever laughed or smiled.  While I was
shaving the other morning, I started thinking about what a wonderful time I
had last week with Maggie and Tony when we rode out for a picnic together.
I looked in the mirror, and I think it was the first time in my life I ever
saw myself smile.  I didn't recognize myself."

"You have a beautiful smile, Clayton.  You should smile more often."

"I want to smile more.  I want to laugh more.  But, Michael, I'm not sure
where to go now.  I don't want to go back and live with my mother.  I hate
all her boyfriends, and I'm afraid of most of them, except just one.  One
of them one night came into my room and leaned over my bed and kissed me
goodnight. I remember I lay awake all night after that.  No one had ever
kissed me.  I thought I would give anything if my mom or my dad had just
once kissed me and told me they loved me.  I just . . . ."

"Wait a minute, Clayton," interrupted Michael.  "What do you mean, you're
not sure where to go now.  You're not going anywhere, Clayton.  This is
your home now.  I'm your kin.  I'm the only kin you've got, Clayton."
Putting his hand on Clayton's arm, Michael leaned in close to him and said,
"I want you to stay here.  You're part of our family, Clayton.  I love you
like my own son.  What gave you the idea that we expected you to leave
here.  Was it all the hard work that we have been expecting you to do?

"Oh, no, Michael.  I'm happier here . . . with everything and everybody
here . . . than I have ever been in my life.  I've been dreading the day
when I would have to leave."

Standing up suddenly, Michael realized the several margaritas he had put
away were having their devilish affect on his equilibrium.  Putting his arm
around Clayton's shoulder, Michael said, "That day will never come, my dear
boy.  This is your home forever."

Clayton leaned his head back against Michael's chest and covered his face
with his hands.  As Michael held onto Clayton's shoulders, he could feel
that the boy was crying softly.  Clayton remained seated with Michael
holding on to his shoulders for many minutes.  Finally, Clayton put his
hands down and turned and looked up into Michael's face.

With a faint smile, Clayton said, "I love you, Michael.  I love you so
much.  This is the first time I ever told anyone I love him.  And it makes
me feel so warm inside to say it."

"Oh, Clayton, my dear, dear boy.  I love you, too."  Then waving his hand
toward the half empty pitcher of margaritas, Michael said, "I think you and
I need to say "Adios" to the tequila for now.  Go on and get washed up for
dinner.  I want you to eat here with me tonight, instead of out in the bunk
house.  Okay?"

With the broadest smile Michael had ever seen, Clayton shouted, "okay!"
Michael stood watching with a mixture of admiration and desire as Clayton
fairly skipped into the house and down the hall to the bathroom.


Maggie, who was still determined to see that Tony and Clayton "find each
other," so to speak, talked to Tony as they were preparing dinner.

"Tony, don't you think that Clayton is nice and that we had a really good
time on the picnic last week?

"Yeah," Tony said with no emotion in his voice, "I think he's nice, and
yeah, we had a really good time on the picnic."

"Well . . . uh . . . Tony, do you like Clayton?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in my opinion, you do a lot more than just like Clayton."

"Hey," snapped Tony.  "You're an old busy body.  Mind your own business."

"You mean, Tony, you don't want to tell me that . . ."

"That's right!  I don't want to tell you.  It's none of your business."

"Well, I am a busy body, and what goes on with all you guys IS my
business."

"Well, not for long," muttered Tony under his breath.

Maggie and Tony continued fixing dinner in silence.  Michael had asked
Maggie to serve his and Clayton's dinner out there on the west verandah
where they had been talking earlier.  Since it was getting a bit chilly,
Maggie turned on the two electric heaters that hung over the verandah.

Michael had also noticed from afar that Clayton and Tony frequently talked
privately . . . not normally out of sight . . . but usually when no one was
within earshot.

"Clayton, I've decided to have you move into the house.  After all, you are
a member of the family.  I'm going to have the room that Mr. Kesselring
lived in before he died fixed up and furnished for you."

"Michael, I don't know what to say," said Clayton.

"You don't have to say anything, Clayton.  It's only right that you be part
of this family in every way.  You say, Clayton, that you like the people
here on the ranch a lot.  Which ones have you made the best friends with
or, rather, who do you like the most among the guys who work here?"

A little smile came over Clayton's face as he said, "Well, besides you,
Michael, I really like Tony.  He's kind of like me.  I mean, his life
hasn't really been any better than mine.  We kind of have that in common.
When we were on that picnic with Maggie, he told us all about his life.
And I felt kind of sorry for him."

"Did he feel the same way for you when you told about your life?" asked
Michael.

"I think so.  We sort of hugged each other like we were feeling sorry for
each other.  Michael, he's just so nice.  I like him a lot."

Michael didn't mention it, but he would have liked to offer to let Clayton
and Tony spend a couple of days and nights together out at his little house
in the Cottonwoods.  He believed they needed to be alone like that to
really come to terms with their feelings for each other.  But the time was
not right yet.  The time, though, would come eventually.

Later that evening, after Michael had gone to bed, he lay there wide awake
in the dim soft light coming in through his window cast by a full moon.  He
missed the feel of Karl's body next to him and the sound of Karl's
breathing.  But at the same time, his mind kept dancing back to Clayton,
and Clayton's joy at learning that he was now indeed considered a permanent
part of the Walker family.  He thought about the sadness in the boy's face,
and the sweetness of his smile that followed.  He thought about how much
Clayton longed for someone to love and for someone to love him.

Michael then could see in the moonlight his door slowly opening.  Clayton's
face appeared in the opening.

"Michael, are you awake?" Clayton said softly.

"Yes, I am.  Is that you, Clayton?"

Clayton entered the room.  "Michael, I couldn't go to sleep.  Would you let
me lie with you for a little while?"

Michael could hardly believe his ears.  "Of course, son.  I'll scoot over
so you can get under the covers.  I warn you, though, I don't have any
clothes on.  I always sleep naked.  It doesn't matter how cold it is, I
just turn up my electric blanket."

"I don't care, Michael," said Clayton.  "Ever since you were so nice to me
this evening when we talked, I wanted to be close to you."

"Take off your boots before you get in, Clayton.  And take off anything
else you want to make yourself comfortable."  Michael felt the blood
rushing to his head.  He felt as though he were in a dream.

Before getting into bed next to Michael, Clayton took off his boots, but
left on his shirt and jeans.  They lay there beside each other, their
bodies touching, neither seeming to know just what to do next.

Finally, Michael said, "Clayton, I'm glad you came in.  And I'm glad you
want to lie with me tonight.  Yes, we did have a nice talk, didn't we."
Then after a few moments, Michael said, "Would you like me to hug you,
Clayton?"

Clayton's answer was to roll over and press his body against Michael's and
put his arms around him.  "I love you, dad . . . I mean Michael.  Do you
love me?  Please love me, Michael."

Michael pressed his naked body as close as he could to Clayton and kissed
him on the cheek.  "Of course I love, Clayton.  And if you want to call me
'dad,' you can.  I would love it if you did."

Clayton turned his head and kissed Michael very gently on the cheek, on the
nose, the eyes, the forehead, and then on the lips.  Michael instinctively
brought his tongue out and ran it lightly over Clayton's lips.  Clayton
opened his mouth very slightly to allow Michael's tongue to enter.  They
were soon kissing deeply and frantically exploring each other's mouth.

Michael finally said, "Clayton, wouldn't you be more comfortable by taking
that heavy shirt off, and maybe those pants?"

Clayton whispered softly, "Would you mind if I took them off?  Do you think
we should both be naked like that?"

"Well, Clayton, you're making me feel self-conscious and embarrassed being
naked while you're fully dressed."

"Well, okay, if you think I should," said Clayton as he got out of bed and
started removing his shirt and pants.  Michael lay there watching Clayton's
emerging nudity.  He was struck by how much Clayton's body resembled his
brother Jared's body when they were teenagers.  Clayton looked so much like
his father.  He had the same sized penis with the slight curve to the left,
and the same very low slung ball sack.  The light sprinkling of sandy
colored hair that covered Clayton's slender, but shapely legs was exactly
the same as Jared's.  Even the shape of his nipples and the exotic hair
pattern on his chest that seemed to grow in gentle swirls around his well
shaped pectoral muscles.

Michael said, "Clayton, your body is exactly the same as your father's when
he was your age."

Clayton smiled, and as he climbed back in bed, said, "It is?  Did you see
him naked very often?"

"Why, sure.  We were brothers.  For a long time, we shared the same
bedroom."

"Did you ever lie with him in the same bed?" asked Clayton.

"Sure.  When we were very young, we used to lie together and masturbate
together."

Clayton's eyes grew wide.  "You did?  Really?  You masturbated together?  I
always thought a guy masturbated alone.  I didn't think guys did it
together.  Wow!"

"Clayton, guys do a lot of things together.  Sometimes it's a lot more fun
like that.  Do you ever masturbate?"

"Oh, yeah.  I've done it almost every night for years.  But I never knew
you could do it with another guy."

"A lot of guys do it together, Clayton.  Would you like to do it with me?"

"Wow! Do you masturbate, too?  Yeah, that would be fun to do it with you,
Michael.  It will almost be like doing it with my dad.  Did you say my dad
masturbated, too, when he was my age?"

"Of course he did.  All boys and men masturbate.  I'm sure you dad still
masturbates in his cell in prison."

The room was warm enough now that Michael threw back the electric blanket.
They lay there on their sides facing each other with their gorged penises
pressing against each other.  Michael was getting so hot, he couldn't
resist running his hands over Clayton's body.  And slowly, Clayton began to
do the same.  Soon, they were both rolling around the bed, neither one able
to get enough of feeling and kissing every inch of each other's body.  It
was inevitable, that Michael's tongue would find Clayton's ass crack and
would at last taste the puckered asshole itself.  Clayton moaned.  It was a
feeling he had never experienced before.  Quickly changing positions,
Clayton tried the same thing on Michael, but this time Michael purposely
relaxed his asshole muscles enough to allow Clayton's tongue to enter
Michael's rectum.

Clayton became almost wild, feverishly unable to get enough of Michael's
body.  Michael knew this was a new experience for Clayton, who was
obviously experiencing a joyous release of his latent homosexuality.
Clayton eventually lay back and said he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Michael, I need to cum." Gasped Clayton.  "I need to jerk off now.  My
balls are aching."

Michael immediately rolled over and removed Clayton's hand, and started
jacking him off with his own hand.

"Michael," exclaimed Clayton, "I've never had anyone jack me off.  Don't I
have to do it myself?"

"Of course not, Clayton.  Sometimes the feeling when you shoot is even
better when someone else is jerking you off."

"Ohhhhhhhh!"  Clayton could feel almost all of his insides begin to tighten
up.  "Oh, God, I'm going to shoot!"

Suddenly, the whole middle part of his body began to cramp uncontrollably.
The muscle spasms became so intense, they actually hurt.  Four of five
great geysers of thick white sperm spewed into the air landing in thick
globs on Michael's arm, as well as all over Clayton's chest.  Michael
continued to hold on to Clayton's penis as it began to deflate.

After a few minutes, Clayton, still a little out of breath, said, "I want
to jack you off now and watch you shoot your sperm.  I've never seen
another guy shoot before."

Michael rolled over on his back, and Clayton took hold of Michael's hard
rod and started stroking.  It was after no more than eight or ten strokes
when Michael began bucking his hips slightly.  He closed his eyes and beads
of sweat appeared on his forehead.  Without warning, Clayton could feel the
veins that ribbed Michael's hard penis become hard and gorged, and could
feel the surges of sperm as it shot up the shaft and out onto Michael's
stomach.  Michael roared like a lion with each volley of sperm.

Clayton was absolutely overcome with sexual excitement from all that he was
experiencing that night.  He had never touched, let along licked and
kissed, another man's naked skin.  The sensation was almost more than he
could take.  As they lay next to each other on the bed, Clayton thought
about how he had believed that nothing in the world could match a good
jack-off orgasm.  But now the smell and taste of another man's skin was
almost beyond any orgasm he ever had.  To feel Michael's tongue on his own,
to touch all of the corners of Michael's mouth with his tongue was more
than he could describe.  And to have his tongue lashing away down in the
dark, private, forbidden areas of another man's crotch was a sensation he
would never forget.

While staring at the ceiling, Clayton said, "What you have given me
tonight, I never dreamed existed.  I never dreamed that I could ever feel
such passion, such excruciatingly overwhelming sexual frenzy."

Michael had his own thoughts.  Now that he had had his orgasm, the reality
of what he had just done seized him.  He thought, "My God!  I should have
said no.  What am I going to tell Karl.  Maybe he'll never find out.  No,
I've got to tell him.  Oh, shit!  Sex with this gorgeous boy was so
wonderful.  But now I just feel terrible about what I have done to Karl."

Michael finally sat up and said, "Clayton, I'm glad this was so good for
you.  I'm glad that I was the one to bring this joy to you.  I hope you
understand, though, that it might not be too good for you to be found in my
room in the morning.  It probably would be best if you went back to your
room for the rest of the night.  And I'll see you at breakfast."

"I understand, Michael," said Clayton as he started to get dressed.  "I'll
never forget this night.  Ever!  I love you very much Michael.  And I can
never thank you enough for letting me stay and letting this be my home.
I'm so happy."

Before Clayton left, they stood and hugged each other and kissed deeply and
passionately.  Then Michael said, "Welcome home, my dear boy.  My dear son,
Clayton."

After Clayton left, Michael threw himself on the bed.  He thought, "That
boy is so sweet, so loveable.  But God-damn it!  What am I going to do.
I've always promised Karl I would never do this.  And I've always meant it.
And I never have done it.  Oh, God.  What the fuck am I going to do.  Karl,
oh my dearest Karl.  What am I going to do?"

For the next ten minutes, Michael thought about what had happened.  But he
decided he had to call Karl and tell him what happened right away.  It was
about two a.m., but he would just have to wake Karl up and admit everything
to him.  Karl was staying at the Menger Hotel in San Antonio that night.
Michael reached for the phone on the bed table and dialed the number and
asked for Karl's room.

Karl answered with a rather sleepy sounding voice.  "Hello."

"Oh, Karl.  It's Michael."

"Oh . . . uh . . . Hi, Michael."

"I'm sorry, Karl, if I woke you up.  Were you asleep?"

"Uh . . . no . . . I mean . . . uh . . . no.  What's the matter?  Why are
you calling?"

"Nothing's really the matter, Karl.  I just had to talk to you."

"Uh . . . Michael . . . can't it wait til morning, huh?

"Well, no.  I . . ."

"I can't really talk right now, Michael."

Just then Michael heard another male voice say, "What's the matter Karl?
Who is that?"

Of course, Michael knew immediately what was happening in San Antonio.
"Karl, I'm really sorry I called so late.  I'll talk to you when you get
back.  It really wasn't anything important."

"Okay, Michael.  Talk to you later.  Goodbye."

Michael hung up the phone and sat on the side of the bed.  He had no
feeling whatever.  He wasn't angry, he wasn't sad, nor was he glad.  He was
perfectly numb.  He told himself that if he had not given in to his lust
and had sex with Clayton, he would never have called Karl and would never
have known that Karl had someone else in his bed.  Michael was never a
religious man.  But, somehow, it seemed to him that, since he had sinned,
he was very quickly punished when he made that phone call.  If he had not
sinned, he would never have known that Karl was also sinning.  It was all
part of the grand game called human folly.  Nothing is ever what it seems.
Everyone plays a game.  And "deception" is the name of the game in which
everyone wins and everyone loses.

Michael lay back on the bed and stared, unseeing, at the ceiling.  There
seemed to be no thoughts in his head.  He just stared.  He began to feel a
kind of loathing for himself, but he felt nothing when he thought about
Karl, other than the simple fact that Karl was no longer his and probably
never had been.  And it didn't matter.  He deserved to lose Karl.  Still
staring at the ceiling, the thought came to him that everything is coming
out the way fate had all along intended it.  The love that he and Karl had
for each other was only a dream.  It never existed.  It was like a play
with two fictional characters, and the play was now over so the actors can
go their separate ways.  Michael felt a strange calmness come over him as
he watched the ceiling begin to take on an orange glow.  Turning his head,
he watched the first rays of the sunrise reflected on the trees beyond his
window.

Maggie had the kitchen table set for breakfast for Michael and Clayton.  It
was to be orange juice, oatmeal, and pancakes with Maggie's own blueberry
syrup.  Both Michael and Clayton were subdued as they ate.  They were both
still very tired.  Michael had not gone to sleep at all, and Clayton had
gone back to the bunkhouse.  He never went in, but sat on the step outside
his room, just looking at the moon.  He had fallen asleep there, but awoke
at the sound of the dinner bell being sounded for breakfast.

Maggie finally said, "I think you and I need to have a talk, Michael."

"No, we don't need to talk, Maggie," said Michael holding up his hand.  "I
know what you want to say, and I've already said it to myself a thousand
times."

Maggie sat tight-lipped, staring sternly at Michael.  "Alright, Michael."

Clayton looked curiously at both Michael and Maggie, who both had a look on
their faces that told him they didn't want to talk about it.

Michael said, "Maggie, I've decided I'm going up to Austin to visit with
Jeff for a couple of days.  I just need some time away from here."

"That might just be a very good idea," said Maggie coldly.

While Michael was getting dressed in his room and packing a few things to
take with him, Clayton came in.

"Michael, are you alright?  You seem kind of distant this morning.  Are you
upset about last night?  Did I do something wrong?"

Michael sat down on the bed and motioned to Clayton.  "Clayton, come over
here and sit down.  There was nothing you did, Clayton.  You are a
wonderful young man, and I love you as my son.  I always will.  But there
are things about my life here that you need to know.  We both did what we
did last night out of passion and love for each other.  And I'm glad that
we did it.  It brought us even closer together.  When I get back from
visiting my son, Jeff, in Austin, we'll sit down and I'll explain
everything.  But now I have to leave for a few days."

Michael turned and held Clayton's head between his hands and kissed him
lightly on the cheek.  A look of sadness swept over Clayton's face.

"Please, Clayton," whispered Michael.  "Put that dear sweet smile back on
your face.  Everything's going to be okay.  Can I see you smile?  Huh?"

Clayton threw his arms around Michael.  "I'll be sitting here waiting for
you, Michael.  I love you."

After watching Michael drive away, Maggie called to Clayton, who was out in
the yard preparing to start his chores.  "Clayton, come on in for a minute.
I want to talk to you."

Maggie put on a jacket and brought the coffee pot out on the front verandah
where the two could talk privately.

"Clayton, I need to talk with you about what you and Michael did last
night."

"Do you know about that?"

"Clayton, Maggie knows everything that goes on around this place.  You
haven't lived here long enough to find that out.  I'm not sure whether or
not you've noticed, or that anyone has told you, but Michael and Karl are
together . . . I mean . . . they're together."

Clayton said, "I know.  They own the ranch together."

"That's right, Clayton.  But they also live together.  Actually, they sleep
together, Clayton."

Clayton looked puzzled.  "And Michael and I slept together, too.  You know
that."

"But, Clayton, I don't think you understand.  To be perfectly blunt,
Michael and Karl love each other."

"Michael and I love each other, too." Said Clayton.

Maggie realized that Clayton was na^Ėve beyond words in the matter of
love and commitment.  "Clayton, Michael and Karl are lovers.  I know,
Clayton, you and Michael were lovers just for that one night.  But Michael
and Karl have promised each other that they would love and sleep with no
one else but each other.  They made a promise to each other.  That is
called commitment.  Michael broke that promise when he had you in his bed
last night."

Clayton understood.  "Maggie, does that mean that Michael doesn't really
love me?"

"No, no.  Of course, he loves you.  I know he loves you very much.  But he
also loves Karl, with whom he long ago made a commitment.  They both
promised each other that only they would share each other's bed, and it
would be only each other with whom they would have sex."

Clayton stared out over the range land for a long time.  Finally he said,
"I was the one who forced myself on him.  And I was the one who pleaded
with him to let me lie with him in his bed.  But it was really Karl's bed,
too, wasn't it, and no one else's.  I feel so foolish.  He must have
thought I was so bad.  He didn't take me to bed.  I was the one who did it
all."

Maggie took hold of Clayton's arm.  "Clayton, no one is trying to blame
anyone for this.  These things just happen.  But you obviously didn't know
about Michael and Karl.  And you need to know."

Clayton said, "I'm sure that's what Michael told me in his room this
morning that he was going to talk to me about when he came back from
Austin.  I am so embarrassed.  He must have thought I was so terrible doing
what I did.  I don't know if I can face him.  Last night was like a dream,
Maggie.  Nothing like that has happened to me before.  But he wasn't in
love with me at all like I thought he was.  I never threw myself at anyone
before like I did with him.  He was really in love with Karl.  My God, he
must hate me."

"Clayton, he doesn't hate you.  Now go on out and get busy with your chores
and get your mind off of this.  Everything will be fine.


Michael arrived in Austin unannounced, going directly to Paul's office.

"Paul, things have been pretty hectic down at the range, and I just felt I
needed a couple of days away from there.  And I couldn't think of anything
better to do than to come up and visit you and Jeff.  I hope I'm not
catching you two at a bad time."

Paul put his arm around Michael's shoulder and kissed him on the lips.
"Not at all!  My God, Michael, you're welcome anytime.  Jeff and I talk
about you all the time and reminisce about our good times with you back on
the ranch.  We both miss you.  I hope you'll be able to stay with us more
than one night.  Where's Karl?  Did he come with you?"

"No, he's off and about on a business trip.  And, yes, I'll probably stay a
couple of nights."

That evening, Jeff grilled hamburgers out on the small balcony off of their
living room.  But beforehand, he brought out Michael's favorite scotch and
they all had several rounds.

"Dad, we're so glad to see you, as always, but you sort of don't seen
yourself.  Is something bothering you?"

"Well, Jeff, I have to admit that I came up here on the spur of the moment
to be with you and Paul because of something that happened last night.
Just to come right out with what it was, I slept with Clayton last night."

Jeff then finished his father's sentence.  "and Karl was out of town."

"Yup.  All the promises I made, and all the commitment I had toward Karl
were not enough to overcome my lust for Clayton.  Isn't that great, guys?"

Jeff went over to the sofa and sat next to his dad, putting his arm around
Michael's shoulders and kissing him lightly on the cheek.  "Dad, it was
only one night.  I can tell it's eating at you.  But you need to get past
it somehow.  You can't let it ruin your relationship with Karl."

Michael laughed sardonically.  "Yeah, but that's only half of it.  I was
feeling so terrible about what I did, I had to call Karl and confess it to
him, even though it was two in the morning.  He was at the Menger in San
Antonio.  But my punishment for what I did was waiting for me.  He sounded
a bit impatient with me, and then I heard the voice of another man asking
Karl who was on the phone.  With all the guilt that was pressing down on
me, I had to learn that Karl was also sleeping with another man."

Michael put his head in his hands.  Jeff and Paul looked at each other, not
knowing what to say.  Paul then jumped up and said, I think those
hamburgers are about done.  I'll go into the kitchen and bring in the tray
of onions, tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, and all the other fixin's.

Michael looked into Jeff's eyes.  "Jeff, I don't know what to do.  Do you
think everything is coming to an end between Karl and me?  I love him so
much.  Why do these things have to happen?  Why?  Why?"

Jeff pulled his father's head down against his own chest.  While caressing
Michael's cheek, he kissed the back of his neck.  "Dad, there's nothing
coming to an end between you and Karl.  The two of you love each other too
much.  These rough spots just happen sometimes.  You just have to fight
yourself through them."  Pulling back from his father and looking at his
sad eyes, Jeff said, "Remember you always used to tell me when I was little
to throw away the sad face and put on my happy face?  Huh?  If you don't
give me a smile, I'm going to cry in a minute.  Please."

Michael could see some tears welling up in his son's eyes.  "Okay, Jeff.
My dear, sweet Jeff, always there for me.  See.  I'm smiling."

Paul fixed another drink for the three of them, and they all sat out on the
small balcony overlooking a busy street while they ate their hamburgers.
There were several restaurants and bars at one end of that block across the
street, and an old fashioned Texas dance hall at the other end.
Country-Western music was already blaring full force from it, signaling
that the evening was just beginning for the many young people starting to
stream into the place.

Michael said wistfully, "Look at all those handsome young men walking arm
in arm down the street with their girlfriends.  I wonder if the time will
ever come when we could walk down the street with our arms around each
other without people being offended and thinking we're sick."

Paul said, "I don't think it'll ever happen in our lifetime.  But I don't
care.  Holding Jeff's hand in public isn't important to me.  We're not
activists, and we're not trying to make any statement.  As long as we have
each other and love each other, and as long as I can hold his whole body
when we're at home, that's all that matters to me."

Jeff said, "Hey, look at that girl with her skirt up to her crotch and her
boobs almost falling out.  And look at the guy with her.  All he's got on
is an open leather vest, showing a lot of skin.  And his pants are so
tight, I can see his bulge from here."

"Yeah," Paul said.  "We know who's gonna get fucked tonight."

Michael said, "He'll probably fuck her right there on the dance floor.  He
doesn't have to lift that skirt up at all, and her cunt is right there
uncovered and he can press himself right into it while they dance."

"Wow, dad," said Jeff.  "You paint a hot picture there.  You know all about
fucking women.  I've never fucked one before."

Paul said, "I fucked a girl once.  I was once over at a girl's house and we
were working together on a history project in high school.  We were in her
room after school.  All of a sudden, she pulled out of her closet a bottle
of Gin that she had stolen from her dad's liquor cabinet.  We both had a
taste of it.  I thought it was terrible, but she kept making me take sips
of it.  Then she took off all her clothes and told me to take off mine.  I
was really getting drunk, so I took them all off and she started playing
with my dick.  It got real hard, and she just laid back and put her legs in
the air and told me to fuck her.  I had no idea what to do.  I had heard
that girls had three holes, but I didn't know which one to put my cock
into.  So I just laid on top of her and she guided it into her pussy.  I
just instinctively started humping.  I didn't know that I was suppose to do
that, but I guess it was just animal instinct.  I remember I came big time,
and she must have also cum, because she started bucking and squealing.  I
got out of there pretty quick.  That was enough female for me.

Michael started laughing.  "Well, Jeff.  You're the only one of the three
of us who has not had the pleasure of fucking a woman's pussy.  Maybe we
ought to fix him up with one, don't you think, Paul?"

"No way, dad," snorted Jeff.  "I'll stick to a good tight male pucker.
I've seen close-up pictures of women's pussies, and they're disgusting.
They make me sick to look at them."

It was getting quite cold out on the balcony, and the three came in.  Jeff
said, "Paul, why don't you show my dad the pictures of the faculty award
ceremony where you got that Teacher of the Year Award.  I'll go and
straighten up the kitchen."

Paul led Michael into the bedroom.  When Jeff finished with the dishes, he
went in and found his dad and Paul standing in a tight embrace with Paul's
hand down inside the back of Michael's pants.

Paul said, "Jeff, I had not forgotten those cute, firm little buns on your
dad's ass.  All through dinner, I could hardly wait to get my hands on them
again.  Genetics is a wonderful thing, Michael.  Your son, Jeff, inherited
his own beautiful ass cheeks from you."

"Your sweet little ass ain't so bad, either, Paul," cooed Michael."

"I don't know about you two," announced Jeff, "but I think it's time for
bed.  And, Paul, since we have a special guest with us tonight, I think we
should let him sleep right in the middle between us.  What do you think?"

"Well," said Paul, "I think that since he is a special guest, we should let
him sleep wherever he wants."

"Listen, you guys, I'm not going to get caught choosing sides here.  I'll
just be fine snuggled up between you.  Okay?

As Michael stood there, both Jeff and Paul started slowly to divest him of
his clothing, article by article.  As Paul unbuttoned Michael's shirt, Jeff
leaned over and bathed his father's chest lightly with his tongue.

"I haven't taken my shower, yet, boys," said Michael.

"That's okay, dad, I love the taste of that salty moistness on your chest
and around your nipples," said Jeff.

As Jeff reached up and pulled his dad's unbuttoned shirt off, Paul ran his
tongue down over the light hair on Michael's arms and up into the his
thicket of black armpit hair.  As Jeff slowly undid his father's belt and
top button, as well as unzip his fly, he ran his tongue down over Michael's
stomach, belly button, and into the thick black trail of hair running from
there down into Michael's huge bush of pubic hair.  As Michael's pants fell
to the floor, his hard penis shot up to a forty-five degree angle, with a
long elastic string of pre-cum dangling from his pee hole almost to the
floor.  It waved in the air without dropping off.  Paul quickly moved his
head down to Michael's boots and took the long string of pre-cum into his
mouth.  The string finally dropped in its entirety onto Paul's face.
Rising to his knees, Paul asked Jeff to lick his face clean.

As both Jeff and Paul each held onto one of Michael's slender tan legs,
they ran their tongues over the soft layer of hair that covered them.  Jeff
always loved to run his hands and tongue over the erotic contour of his
father's youthful looking legs.

Michael felt as though he was being driven crazy by the feel of the boys'
hands and tongues on his skin.  "Oh, my God, you guys are driving me out of
my mind!"

Jeff tore his clothes off as fast as he could, pulled the covers back on
the bed, and leaped in.  Michael jumped in beside him.  Then Paul got up
and stood in the middle of the bed with his legs straddling Michael's head.
He slowly stripped off one item at a time, imitating a stripper.  Michael
lay there staring up into Paul's crotch.  When all his clothes were
removed, Paul slowly lowered himself until his crotch was touching
Michael's face.  Michael stuck out his tongue and was able to tickle the
bottom of Paul's ball sack.  Feeling his balls being tickled like that was
almost unbearable to Paul.  He could feel his balls bobbing up and down in
reaction.  He lowered himself even further until he could feel Michael's
tongue swirling over his asshole.  It was driving Paul mad to the point
where the muscles in his hard penis were contracting wildly, and pre-cum
was flowing rapidly out onto Michael's neck and chest.

Paul could stand no more and dropped over on the bed beside Michael.

"I need one of you inside of me," said Michael as he brought his thighs up
tight against his chest.

"We'll both get inside of you, dad," said Jeff.  "Paul wants to fuck your
asshole, and while he's doing that, I want to fuck your mouth.  Okay, dad?"

"That sounds great to me, boys. I think I need a good fucking tonight.  And
please, when you do it, please don't cum too soon.  I want to make the feel
of you both inside me to last a long time."

As Paul mounted Michael, Jeff brought his head around to get a good
close-up view of his penis pushing through his dad's asshole and into his
rectum.  As Paul began his slow piston motion, Michael enjoyed watching the
flexing of Paul's stomach muscles and the muscles in his arms as he
supported himself.  Jeff got on his knees and straddled his father's chest
with his ass cheeks very close to Paul's face.  As Jeff inserted his
throbbing hard penis into his father's mouth, Paul could easily reach
Jeff's round little buns with his tongue.  The tickling feeling that Paul's
tongue made as it swirled lightly over Jeff's ass cheeks was almost more
than Jeff could take.  He had to frequently stop pumping his dad's mouth
for fear that he would cum too soon.  The tickling of his ass was doing it.
But it felt too good for him to ask Paul to stop.

In order to make it last for Michael, both Jeff and Paul had to stop
pumping frequently in order not to cum.  Michael could feel on his lips and
tongue that his son's cock was often hardening and then relaxing as Jeff
would catch himself just in time.  He could feel the same thing with Paul's
penis as it pumped his asshole.

After about a half hour of pumping, Jeff finally said, "Dad, I can't take
it anymore.  I'm about to cum and I can't stop it."

"I'm cumming, too, Michael.  Here it cums!" said Paul.

Michael could feel both of the penises inside of him enlarging enormously.
Then, at almost exactly the same time, he could feel the violent throbbing
of each of them, followed by the warm flow of Paul's sperm into his rectum
and the surging of Jeff's hot creamy sperm that flooded his mouth.  It had
been a long time since he had had the taste and feel of his son's sperm in
his mouth.  It was so delicious, he thought.  He thought that he might even
suggest that Jeff sometime jack off into a bottle and send it to him so he
could sip on it and taste it.

Soon, Paul and Jeff, both very out of breath, rolled off and lay prostrate
on the bed on either side of Michael.  It felt good when Michael stretched
out his legs after so long in the "getting fucked" position.  His penis,
though, was raging hard.  Jeff finally moved his head over his father's
thigh and began kissing and licking and sucking his balls.  At the same
time Paul, began to run his tongue up and down the full length of Michael's
gorged penis.  Pre-cum seemed to be flowing like a river down onto the
faces of the two boys.  Soon, both Jeff and Paul were running their tongues
up and down on opposite sides of Michael's cock in a coordinated rhythm.
Michael had been close to cumming the entire time he was being fucked.  And
now this unusual double-tongue masturbation of his penis was about to get
him off big time.

Suddenly, the two boys could feel on their tongues the veins that circled
Michael's penis begin to harden.  They could feel his penis begin to throb,
and suddenly a gusher of hot thick white sperm spewed from Michael's penis
as he roared his trademark yell.  Great globs of it fell in Paul's and
Jeff's hair and all over their faces.  They then took turns sucking
Michael's penis try, and licking the sperm off of each other's face.
Michael finally lay there, totally spent.  The three laid there quietly for
a long time with their hot sweaty bodies pressed together.

Although they hadn't noticed it particularly until now, the noise from the
dancehall was still going on loud and strong.  Paul said, let's put on some
robes and let's go out and sit for awhile on the balcony and watch all the
guys come staggering out of the dance hall.  I've got a bottle of wine
chilling in the refrigerator.  Okay?

Jeff said, "Okay.  I'll get some glasses and slice some cheese."

Michael felt so contented and loved.  He was just where he wanted to be
that night.  He was with his son, Jeff, who he loved so much.

As they sat out in the nippy air, Jeff turned to his dad and said, "Dad,
how ya doin'?  Are you feeling a little better now?"

"Oh, Jeff, being with you . . . being with both of you . . . is like a
tonic.  I'm glad I came.  Karl will be coming back in about four or five
days, and we'll just sit down and talk about it.  There won't be any
yelling or recriminations.  I've done something wrong that I will have to
own up to, and I'm almost positive that he knew that I knew what he was
doing when I called.  We'll get through it, thanks to you."

As they sipped their wine and ate their cheese, they speculated about the
various scenes being played out on the street below them among all those
hot and horny couples.  They thought how much more fun they were having
. . . just the three of them.


My thanks go to all of you who have written in response to Chapter 30.  And
to those several of you who wish to exact an apology from me for putting
poor Josiah through such trauma in that chapter, I can only say that the
redeeming feature of that episode is that we are pretty sure Josiah and
Brian's love has been strengthened by it.  I hope you will see it in that
light.  All's Well That Ends Well?  to coin a phrase?  And I do appreciate
hearing from so many new readers since I re-started the series in October.
Thanks to all of you.  The series will continue as long as sufficient
reader response warrants it.  All comments and suggestions are welcome.

Write to: Tom Borden: tombor99@yahoo.com