Date: Fri, 2 Feb 2007 18:39:53 -0800
From: qwb <qwb@san.rr.com>
Subject: Stonegate Stables Ch 33

Stonegate Stables

Chapter 33


The trial ended on a Wednesday.  Vincent recovered quickly, but
it took Matt a few days to begin sleeping through the night
again.  He was very quiet, and spent the evenings at home,
sticking close to either Vincent or me, needy for affection like
when he'd first come to live with us back in November.

Adam came for dinner once or twice that week, but didn't spend
the night, and his conversations with Matt were stilted and
awkward.  They always hugged goodnight, but otherwise they rarely
touched, and Matt looked miserable each time Adam left.  I talked
to him about it one evening when Vincent was working late.

"Matty, did you and Adam have a fight?"  We were sitting at the
kitchen island eating BLTs.  Matt picked a piece of tomato from
his sandwich and chewed it slowly before he replied.

"No, nothing like that.  I just . . .  When the trial got close,
I knew I'd have to think about how I used to live, and I started
to feel weird about being with him, like he was too good for me
or something.  I mean, I know that's not true, but my head was
all fucked up . . .  so I told him I just needed to be with you
guys for a while.  He's angry with me for that."

By the time he spoke the last word, his head was hanging, and he
was barely whispering.  I turned and gathered him close, pulling
him off his stool to stand between my knees. Adam might be
wealthy and come from an upper-class family, but he was certainly
no better a person than Matt, and Adam didn't act like that, so I
knew that this was all from inside Matt, his own fears and
insecurities intensified by the stress of the trial.

"Oh, honey, Adam loves you.  I don't think he's angry.  You hurt
his feelings," I said, remembering the jab I'd felt realizing
that Vincent had needed someone other than me when he'd hugged
Jesse.  "He's a really good guy, and he's not hanging around here
just because he feels sorry for you."

He nodded against my shirt.  "I know.  Now that it's over, I
don't feel like that so much anymore."  He kissed me, then pulled
away, and sat back down.  "I'll talk to him tomorrow."

We went to the den after dinner, where Matt curled up against me,
and fell asleep in the middle of a movie.  I slid down next to
him, holding his soft sleeping body close until Vincent came home
around nine.  He settled down on the floor and rubbed my leg as
we reconnected after a day apart. I told him what Matt had said,
about not feeling worthy of Adam.  Vincent listened with growing
anger, finally bursting out with it.

"They can't hang that motherfucker too many times to make me
happy," he hissed, trying to stay quiet.  "Thank god I brought
Matt home.  Imagine where he'd be otherwise."

We were both silent for a moment, thinking about Matty being
shuttled through the foster care system, or simply turned loose
to fend for himself once he'd hit eighteen.  It was an awful
thought, and we both looked at Matt's peaceful, sleeping face
pillowed on my arm.

It was an unsettled time for all of us.  Vincent had been a
little edgy, even with me, although he seemed to be sleeping
okay.  Matt tossed and turned every night, whimpering now and
then until I soothed him with a touch and a word. Between the two
of them, I wasn't getting enough sleep, and I could feel it
catching up with me.

Vincent seemed more his usual affectionate self this evening,
disengaging me from Matt and pulling me to the floor, where he
rolled onto me and cradled my head in his hands.  His thumbs
rubbed slow circles on my temples while his cock rocked against
mine as we both hardened.  We kissed for a while - soft, loving
kisses that made us smile at each other.  There was no urgency to
do more; it just felt good to be together.

Adam was at the house when I got home the next evening.  He and
Matt were standing close together at the stove making stuff for
tacos.  They seemed much more relaxed with each other, and I was
glad things were sort of back to normal for them.  Adam still
didn't spend the night, but Matt walked him out to his car, and
was gone quite a while just to say goodnight.  When he came in,
he was wearing a smile, an unbuttoned shirt, and a hard-on.





Katie's folks had really liked our neighborhood, and were lucky
enough to get one of the smaller estates when it went into
foreclosure; some dot.com guy who wasn't paying attention when
the market changed.  It was on the opposite side of the
development from us - four acres of house, pool, gardens, a two-
horse barn, a small arena, and a pasture.  It was perfect for
them and they moved in that weekend, thus ending Katie's weekly
trek to stay at our place.  Matt helped them all day Saturday,
and we had them over for dinner that evening since their kitchen
was all still in boxes.

After dinner, we all took a walk around the development. With
Matt and Katie leading the way, Paula and I trailed behind
Vincent and Jack, talking gardens and landscaping. She smiled and
squeezed my arm when I pointed out the garden bench where Vincent
had proposed to me.  Then she got quiet for a bit before
speaking.

"Sean, I want to talk to you about Katie and Matt."

Oh, Christ, I knew I should have kept a better eye on them.
"Listen, Paula, I . . ."

"It's okay," she interrupted me.  "I know Katie is . . . what?  .
. . forward, to say the least.  She's told me a few things that
have happened while she's been staying with you.  I just want you
to know that I'm glad she's fooling around with Matt, rather than
some high school jock who'll break her heart."

"'Fooling around'?"  I croaked.  "What do you . . . ?"

"Sorry," she laughed.  "I didn't mean they were having sex,
although I wouldn't put it past her to talk him into it.  I
just meant kissing him and playing touchy-feely.  I know she's
curious, and it sounds like maybe Matt is also."  She paused, and
then asked me in a hesitant voice, "Has he ever been with a
girl?"

I shook my head, and then glanced at her.  "Me neither."

She absorbed that in silence before asking, "Are you ever curious
about what it's like?  How it's different?"

I shrugged.  "Not really.  When I hug a woman, her body feels
very different from Vincent's - but it doesn't excite me at all."
I looked at her.  "Are you sure you wanna hear this?"

"Yes, if you don't mind talking to me about it.  You're the only
gay man I know that I'm comfortable enough to talk to like this,
and I'm interested."

I nodded.  "Okay.  Well, one morning I looked at Katie in her t-
shirt and undies, and tried to get aroused by her, by the thought
of being with her, but nothing happened.  I'm just not wired that
way.  Then Vincent shifted in his chair, and I could see his, uh,
penis, and I started to get hard." She was staring at the ground
as we walked, her face unreadable.  "TMI?"

She laughed.  "No, no.  I was just trying to imagine feeling like
that about another woman.  But I guess I'm wired for guys, too.
Something we have in common."  She looked up at Jack strolling
ahead with Vincent.  "Do you think Jack's cute?"

"Oh, God, Paula."  Actually, I thought Jack was adorable.
He was about Vincent's height, a little heavier built, with light
brown hair and brown eyes.  His face was open and friendly, and I
could easily imagine him as a pediatrician or the local dog and
cat vet, instead of the airline executive I knew he was.  I
watched him walk for a few moments, his round ass shifting in his
jeans as he strolled along chatting with Vincent.  "He's got a
great ass."

Paula let go with a hoot of laughter, causing Jack and Vincent to
turn around and look at us.  "Yes, he does," she agreed.  More
soberly, she added, "Katie and Matt will do what they want
regardless of what we think about it.  I just wanted you to know
that I don't expect you to watch them every minute."

I nodded glumly, feeling more responsible than ever for what went
on under my roof.




Sunday was busy.  First of all it was Father's Day.  Vincent and
I kept up a tradition we'd started years ago by taking our dads
out to an early breakfast.  The four of us got along well, and we
had a good time, getting home around nine.

The second gymkhana was that day, and it went really well
considering that I had done absolutely nothing to get ready for
it.  Teresa and Alejandro had it all under control, so I just
strolled around enjoying the kids and their horses. Katie won a
class, and Matt did well in a couple, but didn't win anything.

Julia and Daisy were there.  Daisy looked nothing like her shaggy
portrait, but the bond between the two of them was neat to see.
We had added an event where you rode bareback to the opposite end
of the arena, hopped off your horse to toss a big bag of
Styrofoam peanuts across his neck, then got back on however you
could, and rode like hell back to the starting line.

Kids with taller horses were in trouble, because it's tough to
get back up on a slippery, jittery horse while keeping your
slithery bag of peanuts in place.  Several of the horses wanted
nothing to do with the bag of peanuts and were eliminated.  One
went so far as to gallop around the arena three times, kicking up
his heels as he evaded all efforts to be caught until Cody
finally got a rope and lassoed him, much to the crowd's delight.

When it was Julia's turn, she cantered to the end of the arena,
slid off Daisy, who stood still as a rock while Julia flung a bag
of peanuts over her neck, then dropped to her knees in front so
that Julia could clamber back on.  As they dashed back across the
line - clearly the winners - the crowd broke into cheers and
applause.  When they accepted their first place ribbon, Daisy
bowed down on one leg. Obviously, Julia had spent a good deal of
time teaching that pony tricks.

Mrs. Branson saw Matt and me tacking up Ginger, who was making
her gymkhana debut, and stopped to talk with us.  She was a
friendly woman around our age, who put her arm over Matt's
shoulders when he introduced me to her.

"You have no idea how much we love that portrait," she told him
with a smile.  "We hung it over the mantle in the family room
where we can enjoy it every evening.  Thank you again. I
recommended you to a couple of my friends, so be expecting their
calls."

Matt accepted her thanks with grace, and I gave him a warm hug
when she walked away.  "You're an amazing kid, you know that?"
He smiled at me, pleased with my approval, and I once again
blessed Vincent's instincts in bringing him home to us.

Matt rode Ginger in the pole bending, coming in second to a
skinny boy on a skinny horse that darted through the poles in
record time.  I tracked him down afterward, and saw that both of
them were thinner than I'd thought, knobby bones showing here and
there.  The boy looked to be about 12 or 13, and had the wary
look of a survivor, not quite meeting my gaze as I got closer to
him.

"Good run," I told him, as he eyed me from the back of the horse.
"You claim your prize yet?"  He shook his head, so I continued.
"Free lunch.  Come on."

I turned to walk toward the concession stand, and after a moment,
I heard his horse's hoof beats behind me.  As we passed where
Ginger and Zena were tied for the day, I stopped.

"Let's leave . . . what's his name?"

"Rascal," he muttered, giving the two sleek, well-fed horses an
envious look.

". . . Rascal here to have his own lunch."  Rascal was eyeing the
pile of alfalfa with interest, and I wondered when the last time
was either of them had eaten a decent meal.  We unsaddled Rascal,
tying him across from Zena with a spare halter.  As we walked
off, he was ripping mouthfuls from a thick flake of hay and
making eyes at Ginger.

"What's your name?"  He was walking slightly behind me and off to
the side, careful not to come into contact with me.

"Kelly."

Every word seemed to be a real effort, so I quit trying to get
him to talk and just aimed for the food stand.  When we got
there, I walked in the side door, holding it open until he edged
in next to me.  There was a little back room where they stored
extra supplies and where the workers ate.  I pointed at the small
table and went up front to get us some lunch.

When I put a tray loaded with food in front of him, he just sat
there until I picked up a burger and took a bite.  In twenty
minutes, he put away two and a half hamburgers, carefully
wrapping the final half before shoving it into his pocket.  He
also ate a big pile of fries and chugged down a large soda.  If
he thought it odd that no one else was claiming their free lunch,
he didn't comment on it.

I talked with him a little more as he ate, discovering that he
lived a few miles away in a ramshackle farmhouse set back from
the road.  I'd never paid much attention to it, but he said he
and his mother had lived there for about five years, since his
dad had run off.  He was fifteen, much older than I'd thought,
and now that I saw him up close, he looked more his age.  His
dark brown hair needed a trim, and his brown eyes set in his thin
face darted up to mine and away again. His clothes were clean,
but old and mended here and there.

We walked back to Rascal who was still eating, so I talked Kelly
into going to the barn with me to see the donkeys.  We hopped
into my car, and a few minutes later, he was being snuffled and
licked by four curious donkeys.  Ollie butted him in the stomach,
knocking him on his butt, and when he landed, he laughed.  It was
the first emotion of any sort I'd seen from him, and he finally
looked like a normal kid.

After he got up and brushed himself off, we walked around the
stables.  He was silent as he took in the stately old buildings,
the well-cared for horses, the gleaming saddles. When we drove
back to the show grounds, he said he had to leave, so we got
Rascal tacked up and he climbed on.  He hesitated before riding
off, finally looking me in the face for a second.

"Mister, you got any work for me?"

I figured Tommy could find something to keep him busy, so I told
him to come after school tomorrow.  I jotted down his phone
number and told him I was gonna call his mother before then, to
make sure it was okay with her.  From the look of the kid and the
horse, I doubted she'd say no to a little more money coming in.
I told him to ride Rascal over each day - that way I could fatten
up the horse, too.



When I got home that evening Matt was acting a little odd,
smiling to himself now and then, and hurrying us through supper.
As we neared the den, he went in first, and then turned to look
at us as we entered.  I was behind Vincent, and bumped into him
when he stopped dead just inside the door.

"Goddamn it," I complained, juggling coffee cups just as Vincent
breathed, "Oh, my god," in a hushed voice.

I stepped out from behind him and followed his gaze.
Propped on the mantel in a large frame - probably three feet by
five - was a pencil drawing.  Three men lay sleeping, and as I
looked at it more closely, I realized it was Vincent, Matt, and
me, naked, the sheet crumpled at our feet as though we'd kicked
it off on a warm night.

"Oh, Matty...." It must have taken him months to complete a work
so large.

I'd loved every drawing Matt had given us, but this one stopped
you in your tracks - literally.  He'd done it on a deep cream-
colored paper, so that it was warm and rich.  It was so detailed
that from across the room, it looked like a black and white
photograph.  Matted in gray with a wide black frame, it was an
impressive piece of art.

The point of view was from my side of the bed, looking down at
us.  I was on my back, one knee bent out sideways like I always
do, so that my balls hung down into the dark valley of my ass.
My dick was lying against my thigh, soft and sleepy.  My face was
turned slightly away, toward Matt.

He was on his side next to me, one arm across my chest with my
hand covering his.  His knees were drawn up touching my leg, and
his head was curled down to rest against my upper arm.  His cock
and balls were visible in the shadow of his crotch, and he had
either the beginning or the end of a nighttime hard-on, his dick
full and lifted slightly away from his leg.

Vincent was also on his side, his body tucked up close behind
Matt's, his arm across him to rest on my belly.  His other arm
stretched above Matt's head with his fingers in my hair.  You
couldn't see Vincent's crotch, but his leg was shoved between
Matt's, pushing Matt's nuts forward under his chubby cock.
Vincent's other foot was under the sheet.

A shaft of moonlight slanted across us illuminating my face,
Matt's shoulder, and Vincent's hip before fading away.  It's
impossible to convey in words the feeling of that drawing. To me,
it felt of everything that was good about the relationship the
three of us shared - trust, friendship, love.  Most of all trust,
I think, as we lay there sleeping in each other's arms.

Vincent was still planted where he'd stopped when I'd bumped into
him, his mouth open slightly as his eyes roamed over the three of
us.  He reached for my arm, pulling me to his side when he
finally spoke.

"Matt."  He stopped and I looked at him in surprise.  He was
blinking and breathing a little fast as he tried to get his
emotions under control.  "Matt," he tried again, "that is..." He
shook his head, at a loss for words.

Matt glanced up at the drawing, and then looked back at us.
"Father's Day hasn't meant anything to me in a long time, but
this year it does."  He walked over to us, looking back and forth
between our faces as he spoke.  "I couldn't love my own father
more than I love the two of you.  You saved my life, and gave me
a chance to...  to heal, and to find out if there was anything
good left inside me.  I wanted to give you something that showed
how I felt about what you've done for me."  He turned to gaze at
the drawing, speaking quietly.  "I thought about it a lot, and
the times I feel safest and most loved are when we're all tangled
up together in that big bed, so that's what I drew.  I hope you
like it."

There wasn't a sound in the room until Vincent gave a great big
sniff, followed by a sigh as he pulled Matt to us.  I was shaking
a little with the intensity of the moment.  What do you say when
someone presents you with something so meaningful, so important,
that your guts quiver with the power of it?  I didn't say
anything; I just held onto Matt and hoped he could feel from my
physical reaction just what his amazing gift meant to me.

I don't know how long we stood there, but finally Matt pulled
away slightly, and took us to the couch.  We drank our coffee and
ate our desert, but I have no idea what it was.  I couldn't take
my eyes off the drawing until Vincent said it was time to go to
bed.  Before I left the room, I walked over and looked closely at
it.  'Full Moon' was penciled in the lower left corner, and just
below it, 'MATTT' - Matt's name plus his last initial.  This
drawing was the first time he'd used what would become a well-
known signature.

Vincent and I made love to Matt with a tenderness that eventually
brought him to tears.  He cried for a long time, quiet sobs that
would have broken my heart under any other circumstances, but
tonight I knew they were a release and a closure.  We settled
down to sleep in much the same pose the drawing had us - Matt in
the middle with Vincent and I arranged on either side.

Matt slept through the night, and was clear-eyed in the morning,
going to his own room to shower.  That evening Adam showed up for
dinner.  Matt didn't offer to show him the drawing, so I assumed
he'd already seen it.  When we went into the den, Adam spotted it
immediately, and turned to Matt with a look of surprise.  Matt
met his gaze evenly for a long moment, and then Adam walked
closer to study it in silence.

As I watched them, I realized that Matt was saying something to
Adam with that drawing.  I hadn't given any thought as to whether
or not Adam knew that Matt still had a physical relationship with
Vincent and me.  I'd assumed they'd discussed it, but maybe that
was part of the reason the two of them hadn't developed a more
committed relationship.

We all chatted for a while, and then Adam stood and looked at
Matt with a raised eyebrow.  After a moment of holding his gaze,
Matt rose, kissed Vincent and me goodnight, and left with Adam.
He didn't come home that night, and when he stopped by the barn
the next afternoon, it was to tell me that he'd be spending the
week with Adam.  He was a little defensive about it, so I was
careful to keep my comments neutral.  He said they needed to
talk.

I could feel the day approaching when Matt would leave us, and I
was dreading it.  Selfish, I know, but I felt a connection with
him much like I felt with Vincent - not as strong, but very
similar - and I knew I'd miss him terribly when he was no longer
a part of my daily life.

Vincent and I spent a quiet evening.  He helped me clean up after
dinner, but wandered away before I was finished.  I found him
later in the den, standing in front of the drawing with a distant
expression on his face.  I walked up next to him, my shoulder
brushing his, and he took my hand.

"I still can't believe he can do that with a plain old pencil,"
he mused, wonder in his voice.  "Did you see that he got your
cowlick?  And the way you sleep with that one knee stuck out?  It
just blows me away that he gets it so right."

His comment said it all - Matt got it so right, it was magical.
Each picture he'd done had so much in it of whom and what the
subject was, that you felt he'd looked inside them and caught
their very essence.

I noticed how accurately Matt had drawn his own body.  How does
an artist make himself part of the subject of a drawing as
detailed as this one?  How could you know that your cheek
wrinkled just that way when it was pressed up against someone's
arm?  Or that your balls draped over your leg exactly like that?
I had no idea what my nuts looked like in that position when
viewed from that angle.





The next couple days were pretty normal.  Danny shoed horses on
Tuesday and came home for dinner.  It was a beautiful, clear
evening - a little cool - and we decided to sit in the hot tub
for a while to watch the stars come out.  I turned off all the
yard lights, and we carefully made our way through the dark
garden to the tub.  We undressed quietly, and this time Danny
shucked off his shorts along with Matt, Vincent, and me.  I was
already in the tub, and looked up as he dropped into the hot
bubbly water.

The upward view gave me a clear shot of his cock and balls as he
stepped down onto the ledge.  He just grinned when he caught me
looking, and flipped some water at me with his hand.  It was nice
to see him so relaxed with us, but so far, I was the only guy
he'd done anything with.  I figured Vincent was gonna want to get
in on the next round with Danny, so I started mulling that over
in my head.

We stayed out there till around ten when Matt said he had to get
his ass into bed to be up for an early morning of picture taking
with David.  They wanted to catch the sunrise through the pines
or something, so we wandered back up to the house.

Danny yawned hugely before pulling me into a hug.

"I sure like coming over here - you guys are great," he mumbled
sleepily.

"You're always welcome," I told him as we rocked back and forth a
little.  "Not just on Tuesdays."

Vincent was watching us, and when Danny let me go with a kiss, he
reached for his arm.  "Got one of those for me?"

Danny went into his arms without hesitation, and when Vincent
kissed his cheek and began to move toward his mouth, Danny turned
his head into it.  Vincent didn't press his luck, and ended the
kiss after a few moments.  Danny just smiled at him with half-
closed eyes, and I realized he was really tired.

"Why don't you stay here tonight?  You can get up when Matty does
if you need to get an early start."

"God, that'd be great.  I'm shot.  Musta been the hot tub."

We staggered up the stairs arm in arm.  Vincent turned right to
our room while I took Danny down the hall and got him set up with
towels and a toothbrush.  He dropped his shorts to the floor and
climbed into bed while I was still in the room.  The urge to
crawl in after him was almost overwhelming, but I didn't think
Vincent would appreciate that, so I thoroughly kissed him
goodnight (the least I could do!), and went back down the hall
with a hard-on. Vincent eyed me as I came into the bathroom.

"Thought I might have to come get you," he said around a mouthful
of toothpaste foam.  "Or join you," he added, after spitting into
the sink.

"I don't think he's ready for that quite yet.  Not like TJ was.
I'm surprised he kissed you so readily."

"Yeah, me, too.  I can't wait to get a hand around his dick.
Gives me a hard-on just thinking about it."

"Me, too.  Come to bed and let's put them to use."





I called Kelly's mother Monday morning, and got the okay for him
to work after school for a few hours.  He showed up on Rascal a
little after three, quiet and shy, but ready to work.  We put
Rascal in a stall deep with shavings, and piled orchard grass
into the feeder.  After I sent Kelly off with Tommy, I had Sam
give Rascal a quick once-over.  She said he seemed healthy
enough, just needed more meat on his bones.  I figured five days
a week of eating while Kelly worked would help a lot.  We gave
him a scoop of alfmo with some added supplements to get him
started.  As I closed the stall door, he glanced up with a
grateful expression like he couldn't believe his luck.

Kelly was getting a meal, too.  Tommy told him that he'd arrived
at break time, and sat him down to a big plate of lasagna that
I'd brought from home.  He powered through it, finished a glass
of milk, and spent the next couple hours helping one of the other
boys detail a horse trailer we were selling for one of our
owners.

I brought him leftovers every day, and although I think he saw
through the 'break' thing pretty quick, he always ate his way
through whatever I'd brought.  Rascal got taken care of also,
hanging out in his plush stall for a couple hours, eating his way
through high-dollar horse feed while Kelly
sorted tack, or painted the arena fence, or whatever not-too
strenuous job Tommy had lined up for him. He rode home each night
with cash in his pocket and a smile on his face.
Rascal looked fairly cheerful as well, and I felt good about the
whole thing.



The following Thursday I got a call from a rodeo promoter who'd
heard about our new facility.  He had an open weekend on his
schedule and was looking for a site within an hour or so of
Dallas to hold a two-day event.  They'd been rained out a few
weekends ago, so he needed to make it up before the season ended
in early October.  We made plans for him to come out and see the
show grounds the following Saturday.

When I got to the barn that morning, Cody was working one of his
reining horses, kicking up dust with sliding stops and stock
horse spins.  It was fun to watch, and I sat on the top rail of
the arena while I waited for the promoter.  A little before ten,
a truck pulled in and a tall skinny guy ambled over to the arena,
resting his arms on the rail next to me and squinting at Cody.

After a few moments he spoke.  "That Cody Birdwell?"

"Yup," I replied.

"Well, hell, I saw him win in Amarillo back in February. Didn't
know he rode outta here.  His daddy was a hell of a reiner.
Always put on a good show for the crowd."

After Cody finished up and left the arena, we climbed into my
truck and drove down the lane to the show grounds.  He walked all
around, taking a good look at things, shaking fence poles for
stability, poking his head into the bathrooms and the kitchen.
The only problem was, he needed to buck bulls that weekend, and
my place didn't have the pens and chutes required for grumpy, two
thousand pound critters with two-foot horns.

I'd planned to beef up one of the arenas for rodeo use anyway,
and told him I'd make the improvements if he wanted to commit to
coming here.  We came to an agreement and drove back to the barn
to do the paperwork.  In my office, he noticed the table of
trophies and crystal bowls from my competitive days.  After
picking one up to read the inscription, he turned to me.

"What's it like, jumping one of them big old fences?"

I smiled at him, remembering soaring over the high vertical on
Calvin.  "Like flying.  It's like flying without wings."

He gazed at me for a moment, possibly trying to imagine such a
thing, then we settled down to signing contracts, insurance
riders, and all the other documents required to hold a public
event on private property.  As he was straightening the stack of
papers by thumping them on the desk, he commented, "We always
give a few wild card entries to the facilities owner if you wanna
enter any events, or maybe Cody might."

"I can give them to anyone?"  I asked, thinking of Katie and the
barrel racing.

"Yep.  They just gotta have a PRCA card, and sign the insurance
waiver."





Sunday Vincent and I slept late - for us - not rolling out of bed
till almost nine.  We hadn't made love the night
before because Vincent got home late from a wedding dinner that
had gone on forever.  We took a long shower, soaping each other
leisurely, kissing now and then.  Vincent moved behind me to
scrub my back, using both hands to work the muscles of my neck
and shoulders.  It felt heavenly and I lowered my head with a
sigh.

Eventually his arms moved around to my front, and he pulled me
snugly back against his slippery chest.  As his hands ran up and
down my stomach, I reached behind me, one soapy hand grasping his
nuts and the other stroking his cock as he hardened.  His hands
dropped lower, also, until we both had fistfuls of each other.  I
leaned forward until my forehead rested against the wall of the
shower, closing my eyes as I lost myself in the feel of him in my
hands and me in his.

He slid a hand around my hip and into the crack of my ass,
gliding it slowly up and down until I began to push back into
him, asking for more.  I angled his hard dick toward my hole,
spreading my feet slightly as he moved forward to meet me,
holding my hips as his cock head slid into me.

The water beat down on my back as I leaned further forward.
Vincent gave a few short pumps to work his way deeper, easing his
grip on me as his belly met my ass.  For some reason, that
position always seems raw and slutty to me standing up, bent
over, impaled.  It makes me want to grunt and thrust and fuck
myself senseless on the hard cock buried in my ass.  Vincent knew
that, and used that knowledge this morning, shoving me further
over until my hands landed on the tiled bench.

I reached for my dick with one hand, but he pushed it away and
grabbed me in a tight hold as he started to thrust with long,
fast strokes, making me grip the edge of the seat to keep my
balance.  After a few minutes, I squatted slightly to change his
angle, and was rewarded with the intense sensation of Vincent's
cock nudging my prostate.

As my grunts rose in pitch, he picked up the pace until his
thighs were slapping against mine with a sharp, smacking sound as
water flew everywhere.  I clenched my ass as the tightness in the
pit of my stomach descended to my balls. Vincent slid a hand into
my hair, closing his fingers and tugging my head back just as I
came with a shudder and a roar.

As I was shooting jets of cum into the swirling water at my feet,
Vincent came to his toes for a moment, caught in those few
seconds of limbo that precede orgasm.  As the first load surged
up from his balls, he jolted against me, arching back and
growling.  His climax prolonged mine, and it was a few minutes
before I quit twitching.

When he'd softened sufficiently, I pulled away from him and sank
to my knees to recover.  Vincent came down with me, lying over my
back with both arms around me as he kissed my shoulders.

"Nothing like good, clean sex to start the day, huh, baby?" he
muttered in my ear, before licking my neck.  I agreed
wholeheartedly and we slowly got to our feet to finish our
shower.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Got a 'scene' you'd like to see played out? I do reader
requests...  qwb@san.rr.com