Chapter 5 

Through the Autumn months, considerable progress had been made to upgrade the operation of the Walker Ranch. New natural gas wells were now dotting the landscape from one end to the other. The old bunk house with its one large bay of cots was demolished and replaced with a modern facility containing two-man rooms with window air conditioners. The building now contained a modern shower room with several toilets and lavatories. The old bath house and latrine was, likewise, demolished. In addition, a large covered shed was constructed near the new bunk house where the men could eat their meals. In the past, no shelter was provided. Along with all of these changes, the main house was centrally air-conditioned at considerable expense.

A large portion of the grazing land was being plowed under and prepared for planting Milo Maize for sale as feed corn. Also, a good deal of new equipment and machinery, including a new harvester, was purchased. And with fresh paint applied to the barns, the old Walker Ranch was taking on a new look.

Michael had even begun construction on the little one-room house he had wanted to put on the knoll overlooking the range land to the west. The structure was being built by a construction firm from Goliad to the plans and specifications designed by Michael himself. The one large room would measure 24 by 15 feet, with a large plate glass window looking out to the west over the range land. A small ell to the back of the house contained a shower, lavatory, and toilet, and next to it, a small alcove containing a refrigerator, stove, and sink. He planned to furnish it primarily with some of the furniture that had been in the main house when he was a boy, but was now in storage, thanks to Marion's redecorating. And, of course, Ol' Ben's king-sized bed would be situated at one side of the room, closed off from view by several ornamental screens. On the other side of the room would be the old oaken roll-top desk that had been used by Ol' Ben and his father before him. The building would be graced along its full length in the front by a covered verandah.

Michael was not, however, without some serious problems. His brother Jared was pursuing his intention of having Ol' Ben's Will contested. Just before Thanksgiving, Michael received notice from his attorney, Mr. Shortwhistle, of the hearing that would be held in Goliad on December 10th. Michael spent considerable time speaking with all of the employees on the ranch to determine their feelings concerning Ol' Ben's competency. He also made a number of informal visits to tradesmen and other acquaintances in both Goliad and Victoria to hear their thoughts on the old man's ability to think rationally. He found no one who could honestly say that Ol' Ben was incompetent or feeble of mind.

Jeff had become a respected supervisor of work among the ranch hands. He was universally liked for his even-handedness in dealing with conflicts among the men and for his understanding of their needs, as well as their feelings. It was Jeff's idea that all of the ranch hands be invited into the main house for Thanksgiving dinner. The number of ranch hands alone had expanded to fourteen from the nine employed by Ol' Ben. This would mean that, together with the family and the household staff, there would be twenty people for dinner. Since the dining room would not be large enough to accommodate them comfortably, Jeff suggested that some of the furniture in the living room could be moved out so that a long table could be set up there.

Jake felt that it was up to him to make sure the deportment of the ranch hands was as proper as possible when they would be sitting at the table in the company of Mrs. Walker. On the night before, he lectured them about their behavior.

"Now I expect all you shit-heads to behave yourself. I don't wanna see anybody pickin' their fuckin' nose at the table or eatin' with their fuckin' fingers. You shit-heads are always scratchin' yer balls. But don't scratch yer balls when yer in their house, at least not when the Mrs. is lookin'. And one other thing. I don't want to hear any fuckin' dirty language. Just keep yer fuckin' mouths shut."

Most of the men were less concerned about their own behavior than that of Jake's. His language was dirtier than that of any of the others. He was usually unable to utter a single sentence without the word "fuckin'" in it. The men all took bets on how many minutes it would be after they sat down at the table that Jake would utter his first "fuckin'."

The Thanksgiving dinner prepared for twenty people turned out to be a tour de force for Maggie, the cook. It was, according to Maggie, one of the greatest achievements of his culinary career. There were three large turkeys, which he roasted on a spit behind the house; stuffing made with oysters: sweet potatoes; mashed potatoes; turkey and giblet gravy; creamed onions; brussels sprouts, which hardly anyone touched; spiced peaches, cloverleaf rolls and butter, and cranberry sauce. For dessert, everyone was treated to pumpkin pie with a brown sugar and pecan topping plus whipped cream.

Marion, who had always had the job of doing the dinner for her family did feel a little left out since Maggie would not allow her in the kitchen to help or to prepare things the way she thought they should be prepared. But, in the end, she was delighted not to have had to bother with any of it, especially the clean-up afterward.

The guests at the table did not have to wait long for Jake to come across with what was expected. When everyone was served, Jake took a large bite of sweet potato. Then, suddenly spitting it out on his plate, he blurted out, "Christ! That fuckin' potato's hot as shit!" No one spoke. No one moved. Only muffled snickers could be heard from several of the men. Jake realized immediately what he had just done and was thoroughly embarrassed. But it was Marion who broke the silence.

"Jake, haven't you learned to test your food first before you start shoveling it into your mouth? Do like this." Marion then took a tiny speck of potato on her fork and daintily slipped it onto her tongue. "Now Jake, let's see you try that."

The sight of Jake trying to imitate Marion's daintiness by carefully placing a tiny spot of potato on his tongue sent everyone into gales of laughter, including both Marion and Jake.

When everyone had departed, Jake went into the kitchen where Maggie was up to his elbows in soapsuds, scrubbing pots.

"You know, Maggie," said Jake, "yer a pretty fuckin' good cook. I just wish you warn't such a swishy fagot. Ya need to take a bigger stride when ya walk, instead of them little baby steps, and ya oughta try to talk like a man instead of a fuckin' princess. And ya need to stop swingin' yer fuckin' hips like an old whore."

Maggie looked straight at Jake and said, "Well, I guess I am an old whore. You sure did your best to make me look like one when you had all your studs out there gang raping me that day."

"Maggie, that weren't no rape. Ya loved ever cock that went into ya, and ya begged for more. Remember? Ya pleaded with me to fuck ya. Well, we're alone now." Then leaning close to Maggie's face, whispered, "How's about lettin' me stick it in right now?"

Maggie shook his soapy hand at Jake, almost covering his face with suds. Jake started laughing hysterically, and ran out the back door. He just loved to do anything that would make Maggie mad.

The next day, since Enrique did not have to go to school, Jake asked him if, after they finish their chores, he would like to have a couple of horses saddled up and ride out several miles to the western edge of the ranch where there is a stream that is very good for fishing. And they could take a picnic lunch. Enrique was thrilled. He finished his work at about ten-thirty and ran inside to change into his boots and his shirt and pants he liked to wear when he rode horses.

After they started out and got a good distance from the house and outbuildings, Enrique spurred his horse and started racing off. He shouted, "I'll race you, Jake!"

Jake shouted back, "Slow down, ya little fucker. Yer gonna have an accident!"

Then Enrique turned his horse to the left and, going as fast as he could go, ran several wide circles around Jake and his horse, while he laughed and taunted him, his long black hair blowing wildly behind him. Jake could see that Enrique was a natural on a horse. He could remember seeing the old paintings of Indians riding bareback on their horses, and how utterly graceful they looked. And Enrique's form on his horse showed a grace that could only have been granted by God.

Enrique then rode up along side Jake and, while still laughing, shouted, "Play with me, Jake! Come on!" Enrique sped off, and Jake spurred his horse for the chase. They were both shouting, and Jake soon passed Enrique.

Jake shouted, "We're almost there! See that clump of Cottonwoods yonder? That's where the stream is!"

They finally arrived and dismounted. Tying their horses to a tree under which there was a good deal of fresh grass, Enrique shouted, "You beat me! You beat me! But I'm going to beat you goin' home!"

Jake reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a bag of turkey sandwiches that Maggie had made for them. There were also two quarts of milk, one for each of them. When they finished, Jake brought out the fishing gear and they sat on the bank and waited patiently for something to bite. But almost an hour went by and there was never a nibble. Dark clouds were beginning to move in overhead. Jake laid his fishing rod down and walked over to a nearby tree to pee.

"I gotta take a piss so bad, I can taste it."

This was the first time Enrique had ever seen Jake's penis. He was amazed. It was soft, but it was as long as any hard one he had ever seen. Enrique ran over to join Jake and pee with him. Enrique did his best to cross his stream with Jake's, but in the process was successful only in wetting the front of Jake's pants leg and his boot.

Jake said, "Fish don't like to bite when the sun stops shinin'. Why don't we put this gear away now. I got a little present for ya that I wanna show ya." He went over to his saddle bag and pulled out a small paper sack. "C'mon, Ricky, sit down here and let me show ya'. I hope ya like 'em. I made 'em myself."

Jake pulled out two small pieces of pigskin leather about an inch wide. He had carefully carved a fancy design all along both edges, all the way around, and in the middle he had carved out "TO RIKY FROM JAKE." Neither were aware that Enrique's name was misspelled. Jake said, "They're wrist bands. You wear 'em on yer wrists when yer ridin'."

Enrique said, "I'm gonna wear 'em all the time. I'm never gonna take 'em off. Ooooo, they look so nice, and they have my name on 'em, too. They're the best present I ever got. Jake, where did ya git the nice leather?"

"Well, Ricky, I had an old pigskin belt and the buckle was broke. So I jist cut two good pieces out of it and took my pocket knife and carved on it."

Enrique crawled over to Jake and hugged him. Just then they heard thunder and saw some lightning. Jake said, "I guess we shoulda headed back before now." As a light rain began, he said, "Well, it's too fuckin' late now."

Jake ran over to his horse and pulled out a large plastic poncho. As the rain became heavier and the lightning seemed to come closer, Jake held on to Enrique and they both huddled under the poncho. The lightning flashes were so frequent and the thunder was so loud that Enrique became frightened and started to cry. Jake held him tightly and pressed Enrique's head against his chest, while Enrique locked his arms tightly around Jake's waist.

Jake had never married. As a young man, he certainly had his way with plenty of girls, but he never felt he was in love. He always believed he never really knew what love was. But now, with Enrique wrapped tightly in his arms, and with all the raging storm around them, he was certain that, here at the age of sixty, he finally knew what it meant to really love someone. He was glad that his Ricky couldn't see the tears running down his face. With his hand, he caressed Enrique's smooth, soft cheeks, and moved his hand down over Enrique's slender body, feeling every curve, his waist, his legs and arms. He buried his face in Enrique's tousled hair and let his tears flow freely into it.

Jake wanted so much to say, "Oh, Ricky, I love you, I love you." But he had always disciplined himself never to expose his feelings too openly.

The rain was blowing so hard, the poncho was virtually useless, and both of them were soaked to the skin. Jake prayed to himself that the rain would never stop and that he and Enrique could remain locked in each other's arms forever. But the rain did stop, and they did loosen their grip on each other. Enrique looked at Jake and smiled the sweetest smile Jake had ever in his life seen.

"Jake, I've always made believe to myself what a real daddy would be like. I see 'em on TV sometimes. You're just like a real daddy, aren't you. I lie in bed at night and make believe you are. And every time you look at me and talk to me and hug me, I know you have to be my real daddy."

Jake at that moment lost it. He grabbed Enrique, held him tightly and said, "Ricky, I am your real daddy."

Enrique broke away and looked at Jake, "Really?"

"Really."

Jake thought, "What's the harm in telling this little lie. Enrique doesn't know who his real daddy is. Why not let him be happy thinking it's me."

The sun was beginning to shine. Since it was late in the afternoon, they mounted their horses for the ride home. This time, though, they rode very slowly. Neither wanted this very special afternoon to end.

Enrique went directly to his room when he returned home. He started to worry that the bagpipes that he was planning to give Jake for Christmas might not be as nice a gift as the leather wrist bands that Jake had just given him. He uncovered the unfortunate instrument and stared at it, wondering if he could ever get all the dirt off of it so it would look pretty when Jake opened it on Christmas Day. He thought about what Jake had said; that he was Jake's son. He knew that wasn't true because Ol' Ben had told him that his daddy had disappeared and was never heard from again. But he was glad that Jake wanted him to believe he was his daddy.

Michael's new little house on the knoll was finally completed by the end of the next week following Thanksgiving. He and Jeff had worked most of a full day hauling in furniture, including Ol' Ben's king-sized bed and roll-top desk. When the work was done, Michael threw himself onto the unmade bed and beckoned Jeff to join him. They lay there with their arms around each other and kissing each other lightly. Then Michael sat up.

"Jeff, let's spend the night here together—tonight. I already told your mother that when the place was finished, I was going to spend the night here. I even told her that since you were going to help me move things in and get settled, that you might like to stay the night also. And she said she thought that would be a good idea and that you would enjoy that. So, how 'bout it, Jeff? Shall we break in the new house tonight?"

Jeff then grabbed Michael's head with both hands and kissed him deeply and said, "You're on!"

While Jeff stayed and made up the bed and put a number of things away, Michael went back to the main house to find some Champaign. He returned with three bottles and put them immediately into the new refrigerator.

Jeff said, "Let's go on back to the house and eat supper and have our showers and then come on back here."

Michael thought a minute and said, "You know, I think we should wait and take our showers here when we get back. It would be nice to see how the new shower stall works."

Jeff agreed, and they both left for dinner with a lot of anticipation in their hearts.

After supper, Michael and Jeff gathered up some clean underwear and a supply of toiletries and set out on foot for the twenty-minute walk to the knoll.

When they arrived, Michael said, "Let's take our showers now and then I want to sit out on the new verandah, sip our Champaign and watch the sun set over at the far end of the range. You go ahead and inaugurate the new shower while I get out the glasses."

Jeff stripped down and stepped into the shower. He lathered himself up from head to toe and called to Michael that the shower was great, and that it was big enough for an Army. Michael opened the door slightly and looked in. The sight of Jeff covered with thick lather, with globs of it dropping off of his penis started to make Michael hard.

"Jeff, do you need someone to wash your back for you?"

"All depends who 'someone' would be."

As Michael quickly removed his own clothes, he shouted back, "I'll try to find someone to do it for you!" Then as he stepped into the shower, he said, "I found someone. Guess who?"

Michael already had a full erection and Jeff's penis rose visibly to its erect position. Michael lathered himself up, also, and then pressed his body tightly against Jeff so their hard-ons were rubbing. They held on to each other tightly and kissed deeply for several minutes.

Then Michael said, "Oh, I was supposed to do your back for you." He went behind Jeff and rubbed his back, bringing his hand down between Jeff's ass cheeks. Jeff could feel a finger sliding in and out of his asshole.

"Dad, I don't want to cum right now. I want the evening to last. I want it to build and build until a final climax later."

Michael understood and agreed, although it was hard for him not to go charging ahead full steam right there in the shower. They both rinsed off and each put on only a pair of Bermuda shorts. Michael then filled two Champaign glasses and they went out onto the verandah just as the barely pink beginnings of another sunset were appearing. The chairs were comfortable, the Champaign was superb, and the Texas winter breeze that blew off the range was cool and comfortable against their skin.

Jeff turned and looked with a loving smile at his father for several minutes and then said, "Dad, you're a different person since you moved down here to the ranch. I look at you and I almost think of you as my own age. That hard, white collar business attitude is gone, and you're like a free spirit. You laugh and joke around and even act sometimes like a juvenile, just like me." Michael looked pleased and happy to hear Jeff talking that way. After a few moments, Jeff went on. "I don't think I have ever had a happier four months in my life. I like ranch life. But it isn't just that. It's being here with you. I love you, and I will always love you, Dad. Every minute I'm with you is special."

Michael leaned over and playfully pinched one of Jeff's nipples. "Fill our classes again, Jeff." After draining his second glassful, Michael reached over and put his arm around Jeff's shoulder. "You know, Jeff, sometimes I think I'm the luckiest man in the world." Waving his other arm out in front of him, "All this as far as the eye can see is ours." Michael was beginning to feel the Champaign. Then turning abruptly to Jeff, he said, "It's just you and me, Babe! Who said that, anyway?"

"I think it was Sonny and Cher."

"Are you sure it wasn't Chastity?"

"No, Dad, I think it was Sonny and Cher."

"That reminds me of the story of the guy who found the only way he could get a little from his date was to stick his finger in the dyke." Michael started to double over with laughter at his own joke, but happened to see Jeff's tan line just above the waistband of his shorts.

"Oh, God, what is this? Is everything white under those shorts?"

Jeff was beginning to feel his Champaign, also, and said, "There's only one way to find out," as he stood up and let his shorts drop to the deck. Jeff staggered just a bit and quickly sat down. "Dad, I think you've got a tan line under there somewhere, too. Let me reach in there and see if I can find it." Feeling around in his dad's shorts, Jeff said, "I think I found something. It's like a big rock that has all sorts of thick grass growing on it."

Jeff got down on his knees and ran his hand up under his dad's shorts from the bottom. The minute his hand felt the soft hair and the hard sinews of his dad's thigh, Jeff became hard as a rock. It felt so erotic to play with Michael's balls and cock with his hand up through the pant leg.

Michael said, "Pull those pants off, Jeff. Let's take a little walk through the soft grass and let the cool breeze blow over our bodies."

Holding onto each other, they both staggered off the verandah and down the incline. Falling to the ground, they rolled laughing to the bottom. The sun had already set, and the sky was crimson red. They struggled to their feet and made their way back to the house. Inside, they both collapsed on the bed, still laughing. As Michael lay prostrate on his back, Jeff couldn't resist going over his dad's beautiful legs with his tongue. The feel of the soft hair on his tongue and lips was so indescribable that Jeff almost felt like crying. When his tongue reached his dad's balls, he lifted Michael's legs and bent them back so he could see his asshole. Jeff blew lightly on to his dad's asshole, and each time he did he could see the sphincter muscle contract. It was pink and beautiful. Jeff slowly lowered his head and lightly ran the tip of his tongue over the pucker. Michael groaned and tried to raise his hips higher, while Jeff did his best to force his tongue inside without success.

Jeff rolled over on his back and Michael slipped his lips over Jeff's penis. His sucking became wilder and wilder. His head was bobbing up and down furiously and his tongue was bringing Jeff dangerously close to a climax. Jeff pulled his dad's head off and slithered down so their heads were together.

After kissing Michael, Jeff looked at him intently and said, "Dad, I want you inside of me. I have never had anyone inside of me before, and I want you to be the first one. I crave you inside of me. Please, Dad."

"Oh, Jeff, I want you inside of me, too. My dearest boy, I want you deep inside of me, too."

Jeff had known about Michael's college employment as an exotic male dancer and stripper, and Michael had told him about how he used to fuck the bartenders afterwards for additional tip money. But Jeff wasn't sure how often his father had gotten fucked himself.

"Dad, I had hoped that when I had you do it to me, this would also be your first time, too. But I remember the night after Ol' Ben died, and the four of us were in his big bed, you got fucked by Corky."

"I know, Jeff. I didn't really want that to happen. It was the first and only time it ever happened to me. As you remember, we were really charged up that night, and when Corky came on so strong to me, I just caved in. I didn't say so at the time, but he was so rough that it was quite painful for me. That was one reason I was not in the best mood the next morning when we woke up. I wish we could forget that happened and just concentrate on ourselves."

Michael got up and went into the bathroom and returned with a new unopened jar of Vaseline. He raised Jeff's legs so that his asshole was in open view. Then he leaned over and kissed it and ran his tongue over Jeff's entire crotch area.

Jeff said, "I don't want you to stop. Your tongue feels so good."

Michael pressed a little Vaseline into Jeff's asshole, "Jeff, your little asshole is so pink and sweet. I'd like to eat on it all night."

Then applying some grease to his penis, he moved up over Jeff where the tip of it was touching Jeff's asshole. He pushed very slightly. Then a little harder. Jeff began to wince.

"Does it hurt, Jeff?"

"Yeah, a little."

Michael pushed harder and harder and then the head of his hard penis suddenly popped inside of Jeff's rectum. Jeff let out a short cry of pain.

"It's okay, Dad. Keep going, please."

Michael brought his head down and started kissing Jeff's eyes and nose and cheeks and lips as he pushed slowly into Jeff's rectum. At last, he was in as far as he could go.

"Dad, hold it right there for a minute."

Then after a minute or two, he looked at Michael with pleading in his eyes and said, "Okay, Dad, please fuck me."

Michael started humping slowly, feeling Jeff's sphincter muscle clamping down hard on his penis. He went a little faster, then faster and faster. Jeff's fingers were beginning to dig into his dad's ass cheeks, pulling him down harder at each thrust.

"Oh, God, fuck me, Dad! Harder, Dad, harder! I want you inside of me! I want your whole body inside of me! Don't stop! Fuck me hard, my sweet, dearest Dad!"

Both were sweating profusely and sweat rolled off of Michael's face and dripped onto Jeff's mouth and eyes. Soon, Michael breathlessly said, "Jeff, I'm so close now, I don't think I can hold it. I'm gonna cum, Jeff!"

Jeff could actually feel the head of his dad's penis grow larger and harder. "Let it go, Dad! Shoot your hot sperm deep inside of me! I want all you can give me."

Just then, Michael's whole body lurched and with a loud yell, he let loose with surge after surge of cum with an intense orgasm that seemed to last forever.

"Dad, stay in me. Don't pull out." Father and son lay still, their sweaty bodies pressed together tightly. After a while, Jeff spoke softly. "There will never be a moment ever in my life that will be as beautiful and sweet as this moment has been. I will never love as deeply—you dear, sweet man—as I love you. There will never be anyone in my heart but you. I have your sperm inside me and I don't want ever to let it come out. If only there was a way to keep it in there as part of me forever."

They lay side by side for a long time, caressing each other's bodies and kissing and hugging.

Finally Jeff brought his head down between his dad's legs, which he raised high enough where he could see his dad's asshole. It was now sweaty and with an odor that Jeff could hardly resist. First kissing his dad's asshole lightly, without a word, began smearing grease on it.

"Dad, are you ready for me to enter that beautiful hole of yours?"

"Jeff, I have to tell you that I feel just like I am going to be fucked for the first time. I have that same feeling of anticipation that one has when one is about to try something completely new."

Jeff had never had his penis in another man's asshole before, so tonight was the occasion of two major events. He pushed his penis very slowly into his dad's rectum. It went a little easier than did his dad's penis in his own asshole. But Michael was still wincing. It wasn't as painful as when Corky screwed him, but he still had a little trouble relaxing and it was not entirely comfortable. Soon, though, Michael had relaxed enough to tell Jeff to go at it as hard as he wanted. Jeff marveled at the difference in the feeling of his dad's tight asshole and the feeling of his own hand when he jerked off. Even though he could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building up, he didn't want to ever stop.

"C'mon, Jeff, pound me hard. Harder, harder! Deeper, deeper!"

Both of them were once again sweating and kissing wildly. Finally, Jeff could hold off no longer and yelled, "I cumming! And I'm filling my own dad's beautiful asshole with all my sperm. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

They finally collapsed in each other's arms, with their sweaty bodies almost glued to each other. They both fell asleep almost immediately and awoke as the rising sun streamed into the back windows onto their faces. They soon realized that they were both a little hung over, but each knew that he had experienced a very special night with a very special person. The memory made them both hard, and they each stroked themselves, and then took and swallowed the other's morning cum.

The day of the hearing on the competency of Ol' Ben finally arrived. Jared Walker and his lawyer entered the courtroom with the cardboard box that Michael had given him containing the pornographic pictures of Ol' Ben having his way with Enrique and others. Michael entered the room with a single envelope in his hand. Michael walked over and spoke to Jared.

"Jared, I suppose you are going to try to prove that Ol' Ben cut you out of his Will because he was mentally unable to know what he was doing. And I suppose you think these pictures you have will somehow prove his incompetence."

"Michael, can you honestly say that any man who fucks around with a little minor child who is his own son is not a little off in the head?"

"Perhaps not, Jared, but remember that incompetence is a double edged sword. Have you forgotten about the two pictures of you, one where you're fucking Ol' Ben, your own father, and the other one where he is sucking you off?"

"Well, those pictures no longer exist. I took them out of the box and destroyed them."

"Jared, what do you think I have here in this envelope? Your friend, Jorge Martinez, the photographer came through for me. You know, anyone can be bought."

Jared became furious and turned to consult with his lawyer.

The judge who was to conduct the hearing entered the room. Much to Michael's dismay, Jared and his lawyer allowed the hearing to proceed.

When Jared was asked to start presenting his evidence, he was handed a set of pictures which his lawyer had taken from his brief case. He spoke calmly and deliberately to the judge.

"Your honor, I have a set of pictures here that will show the degradation that is lived by my brother, Michael. It will prove to you the unsuitability of Michael Walker as the guardian of Enrique Portillo, the young boy who is living with him."

The judge interrupted Jared saying, "Mr. Walker, we're here to hear evidence pointing to the competence of Benjamin Walker, not Michael Walker. Where is your evidence concerning Benjamin?

"Your honor, we have decided to drop our efforts to have Benjamin Walker's Will overturned, and would like to pursue a custody hearing on Enrique Portillo.?

At that, the judge stood up and severely lectured Jared for wasting the court's time. He told Jared that if he now wanted to go after Michael Walker in a child custody matter, he would need to do that another time. Before walking out of the courtroom, he shouted that he was surprised that Jared's attorney didn't have brains enough to know that.

Jared stood stunned, as Michael approached him, demanding to know what pictures he had in his hand. Jared said only that, if Michael had thought that his many episodes of fucking the bartenders in gay bars after he did his nightly exotic strip were not preserved forever on film, he had better think again. Michael couldn't believe it. Someone had taken pictures of him while he was screwing those bartenders.

With a wry smile, Jared said, "We'll see you in court another day, my good brother. You haven't heard the last from me yet!"

Even though Michael was disturbed about the existence of pictures of his long-ago sexual activities, it was the beginning of the Christmas season, and he found it relatively easy to put Jared and his evil chicanery out of his mind.

The house was decorated extensively for Christmas, and the ranch hands had even put up decorations in the bunk house. Marion had invited her disagreeable sisters down to the ranch for the day. The one who always stared at every man's crotch when he came into the room was still at it. Michael and Jeff this time decided to stuff their pants with something that would create a real tent effect to give these old biddies something really hot to look at. And look they did.

Maggie started early in the morning to prepare the Christmas dinner, this time with a traditional Christmas Goose.

After breakfast, the family, including Enrique, opened their presents. As soon as they finished, Enrique left the house and ran to the cow barn in which he had hidden Jake's present. He had spent a good deal of time trying to clean the dirt off of the bagpipe and wrapping it in Christmas paper.

Enrique ran over to the bunk house and knocked on Jake's door. He had told Jake the night before that he would come and visit him after the family finished opening their presents. He sat down and gave Jake his present.

"Go ahead, Jake, open it. I bought it for you."

Jake couldn't believe his eyes. "It's a bagpipe! And it's a real Highland bagpipe, too, from Scotland! All the pipes-the chanters and the drones-are in good shape. And look at this beautiful ivory inlay on the pipes! This is a very old one and the windbag is not in good shape. It's all cracked with holes in it. It sure won't hold any fuckin' air. But I can fix that. I can probably make a new one out of some leather I have."

Jake laid the bagpipe down and put his hands over his eyes. Enrique could see tears rolling down Jake's cheeks. "Oh, ya little fucker. Ya didn't have to do that."

Enrique went over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Jake and put his arms around him. "I love you, Jake. I can't wait until you play it for me!"

Jake took out a big checkered handkerchief and wiped his eyes. "I'm gonna play it for you a lot, but I have to repair it first. I have a present for you, too, you little fuck head."

Jake went over to a small wooden box and unlocked it. He took out a long gold chain with a cross hanging from it. "This is my present to you, Ricky. It belonged to my maw. It's the only thing I ever had of hers. She wore it all the time. And now it would mean a lot to me to have you wear it around your neck."

Enrique stood in front of the mirror over Jake's chest of drawers while Jake put the chain around his neck. "It's such a pretty chain, Jake. I never had anything that was gold. And I never had anything that belonged to my mama, either."

Enrique started to cry, which brought back Jake's tears. Jake said, "Ricky, if you don't have to leave right away, would you lie down on the bed next to me for awhile? This is the best Christmas I have ever had, and you are my best friend. I just want to lie close to you for a little while today before you go."

Enrique lay down next to Jake and said, "I won't ever go. Maybe I could just stay and live here with you, Jake. You're my best friend, too."

Jake rolled onto his side and hugged Enrique and kissed his face over and over. "I would love to have you live with me, Ricky, but Michael wouldn't allow it."

Then Enrique said, "Ya know, Jake, some day I would like to get naked with you like I was with Ol' Ben. I love you Jake, and I want to get naked with you and then we could wrestle."

"Maybe someday, Ricky." Jake brushed his lips very lightly over Enrique's lips and said, "I love you, too, Ricky. But now you'd better git back to the house. They're probably wonderin' where the fuck you are. Besides, I have to start workin' on this bagpipe so I can play somethin' for ya sometime."

On the day following Christmas, Marion and her sisters departed for a two-week visit with their widowed mother in Dallas. Michael had been planning a big New Years party for all the ranch hands. At first, he thought he would clean up the cow barn and have it there. But since Marion would be out of town, he decided to have it in the house. He told the ranch hands that if they had any friends, like girl friends or such, in Goliad or Victoria, ". . . they're invited, too, if they want to come." Maggie told Michael that he had some "delicious" friends in San Antonio and would it be alright if he invited them down to the ranch for the party.

Maggie announced, "My friends like to dress up, if that's alright. You know, kind of like—drag. They're all sweet guys and a real riot. I already told them that the scenery down here is mah-velous. All these gorgeous cowboys with no shirts with their deep tan muscles bulging and their cute cowboy hats on their heads."

Michael had heard about the gang "rape" of Maggie, if it could be called that. And maybe if everyone had enough to drink on New Year's Eve, maybe old Maggie would open up his hole again for some of those "cute cowboys." When Marion departed for Dallas, some of her parting words were, "Michael, maybe you should dust off your old g-string again and entertain your guests with your old exotic dance and strip routine."

Marion never tired of bringing that up. She had first fallen in love with Michael during one of his shows, and it excited her every time she thought about it. Michael simply said, "We'll see. Have a nice visit, dear." Michael had the feeling that their New Years celebration this year was going to be A-WILD-ONE!!!

To be continued...