My Father, My Son
by: Tom Borden
© 2000-2008 by the author


The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...


Jake called, "Ricky, Ricky!" He could hear Enrique screaming for help. There were hand-held fire extinguishers attached to the wall just inside the barn door, but they did no good. Several of the ranch hands dragged water hoses into the barn, but the pressure was low and nothing helped.


Jake continued to call, "Ricky, Ricky!" Soon Enrique's screaming stopped, and the only sound was of the roaring flames as they now engulfed the entire roof of the barn. Jake fell to his knees in the doorway and screamed, "Ricky, Ricky, Oh, my God, Ricky, answer me, please!"


Chapter 11 

As Jake knelt at the door of the barn, calling for Enrique, burning embers began falling around him. Paul and Corky ran to him and pulled him into the yard.

Jake shouted, "Ricky's up there in the loft. He was screamin' for help, but I don't hear him no more!"

Paul and Corky ran to the rear of the barn and put a ladder up to the locked door in the gable of the barn leading to the loft. Grabbing a pick-axe, Corky climbed the ladder and broke through the door. Just inside, Corky could see Enrique lying in the hay. He had covered himself with a tarpaulin. With the door now open, a tremendous draft caused the flames and smoke to roar toward the door, obscuring Corky's view. While burning hay was now blowing around and covering the tarpaulin, Corky held his breath and reached in until he felt Enrique's leg. Pulling Enrique toward him, he was able to fling the boy's body over his shoulder and descend to the ground.

No one could tell if Enrique was still alive. The paramedics had just arrived and rushed over with their oxygen equipment. Enrique had obviously inhaled a great deal of smoke. With an oxygen mask fastened to his face, he was taken to the ambulance and rushed to the hospital in Goliad. Jeff told Jake to get into the jeep and they would follow.

The barn was a total loss. A tractor and several hay wagons were also destroyed. As Michael stood surveying the damage, he called to Joseph. "Come into the house with me, Joseph. I want to ask you some questions."

Sitting at the kitchen table, Michael eyed Joseph suspiciously. "Well, Joseph, I'm pretty certain that you know what this is all about. My brother, Jared, is involved in this, isn't he?"

"Please, Michael," said Joseph, his voice and hands shaking. "I didn't think it would be like this. When Jared was here, he just told me to let him know when Enrique would be working in the barn."

"You mean you wanted to see Enrique hurt, or even killed?"

"No, Michael, everybody knows you're havin' difficulties with Jared, and I just thought he wanted to take Enrique somewhere and hold him just to make you mad. I didn't think he'd ever hurt him. And I didn't think he'd ever want to start a fire."

"You must have known, Joseph, that boy would be in danger, even if he were kidnapped. You did this, didn't you, just for a couple of cigars. Don't you have any feeling for anybody but yourself? All you care about is getting your ass fucked and a couple of cigars. You don't know how close I am, Joseph, to firing your ass off this place. And I may yet. Now get out of here!"

Enrique awakened shortly after arriving at the ER. He looked up at Jeff and Jake and told them he had a terrible pain in his chest. The doctor explained that the hot gases created by the fire had probably scorched Enrique's lungs. Jake sat next to Enrique's gurney and held his hand tightly while caressing his forehead and pushing his hair back out of his eyes. Jeff had never before seen such a look of fear in Jake's eyes.

Enrique was soon taken away, where the doctor explained that a brain scan would be done to determine if there had been brain damage. Enrique had been without enough oxygen for some period of time, and some brain damage could have resulted.

Over the next week, Enrique gradually began to feel like himself again. No brain damage had been detected and he was allowed to return to the ranch. He suffered with nightmares of the fire, however, and Jake often had to hold him in his arms throughout the night to help him through it. It was always the same dream. He felt himself trapped in a ball of fire and would watch his own flesh being burned off his bones.

The Sheriff's office investigated the fire and determined that it was a pretty clear case of arson. Michael had no hesitancy in telling the Sheriff about Joseph's conversation with his brother, Jared, as well as his suspicion that Jared was somehow responsible. Jared was called in for questioning and, after several hours, admitted that he had arranged for arsonists to set the blaze in order to force Michael to recognize him as a rightful heir to the ranch. He denied, however, that he knew that Enrique would be in the barn, and that he had any intention of harming Enrique in any way. On the basis of Joseph's story that Jared wanted to be notified of the day Enrique would be working in the barn, the Sheriff had Jared arrested and locked up in the county jail.

When Enrique was told about how Corky had saved his life, Enrique went to Corky's room to thank him. "I know what you did for me, Corky. I owe you my life."

"Aw, no you don't," said Corky, grabbing hold of Enrique and hugging him tightly. Corky had always been strongly attracted to Enrique, but never showed his interest openly because he knew that Enrique and Jake were an inseparable pair. He remembered back shortly after Ol' Ben died, when he had fucked Enrique during a mini-orgy involving Michael and Jeff. He had yearned many times after that to somehow have that dear, sweet lad as his own. He stood there, with Enrique wrapped in his arms and feeling Enrique's arms still held tightly around him with no sign of loosening. Could he make this last? Could he lay Enrique down on the bed and slowly remove his clothes, revealing that young slender body. Would he dare to lean over and kiss the boy on his lips, while caressing his hips and legs? Corky laid his cheek on the top of Enrique's head, burying his lips in the boy's soft black hair.

Suddenly, Jake's voice could be heard outside calling for Enrique. Enrique broke away from Corky and ran outside, where the two walked away hand in hand. Corky's feeling of desire for Enrique was almost overwhelming at that moment as he threw himself on his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

It was now the end of August and the time had come for Jeff and Paul to go to Austin and find an apartment to share. The furniture that had occupied the main house during Michael's childhood was now in storage. Some of it had been used to furnish Michael's little house in the Cottonwoods. But there was still plenty to chose from with which to furnish an apartment in Austin.

A small, two-bedroom apartment was found near the campus on a street occupied by a number of fairly run-down apartment houses. Michael helped the two boys move the furniture from the ranch to Austin. It was a strange conglomeration of furniture styles, and mostly not in top condition. Although Michael acted enthusiastically about this new milestone in his son's life, it was nevertheless a melancholy day for him. The ranch, or even the house, would never be the same without Jeff there. He watched Jeff and Paul busily arranging the furniture and putting away their belongings in closets and drawers and watched their happy faces as they talked and laughed together. He knew that this milestone for Jeff was also going to be a major turning point in his own life. How would he ever be able to bear it. My God, would he ever be able to bear it?

It was now late afternoon and Michael finally wished both Jeff and Paul well, and departed for the ranch, wanting to get home before dark. Jeff could hardly believe how happy he felt. He told Paul it was almost like getting married and having their own place. Without eating supper, they fell on the bed and made love with a kind of abandon they never did before. Clothes were ripped off and thrown around the room. They were both hot and sweaty from working hard all day. But the odor and moistness of each other's bodies intensified their passion. Kissing wildly and licking the sweat from each other's skin brought them to a frenzy in which they rolled around in a sixty-nine position. Soon they each shot their loads of sperm into each other.

As soon as Jeff came, he said, "Kiss me!" Paul then flooded Jeff's mouth with his sperm and they kissed deeply, with sperm running out all over their faces. Then they laughed and laughed. They stood up on the mattress holding onto each other and jumped up and down and then flung themselves back down on the mattress, at which the entire bed collapsed off of the bed frame with a crash onto the wooden floor.

Rolling around, still laughing, they heard a loud knocking at the door.

Jeff hollered, "Yeah!"

"Are you alright in there? We live below you and it sounded like the building was falling down!"

"We're fine! I just dropped a shoe!" Then more laughter.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, we're as fine as anybody could be!"

On Monday of the following week, Jeff began a week of registration and orientation required of all freshmen. At the same time, Paul was getting settled in his new office and working on lesson plans for the three courses he had been assigned to teach. Adriano took a personal interest in Paul's adjustment to academe and took it upon himself to introduce Paul to as many of the faculty and administration as he could.

"There are a number of older, seasoned faculty members," Adriano warned Paul, "who will look down on you with a certain suspicion. As faculty members begin to age, they begin to take on a certain fear that younger, more vigorous newcomers are yapping and nipping at their heals. The best thing is for you not to give them reason to fear you. In many cases, they do have a greater knowledge than you in their discipline, certainly more practical experience, and if you can make yourself their friend and make them trust you, you will often have their important vote when it comes to promotion and tenure down the line."

After having made the rounds to the offices of several influential faculty members, they returned to Adriano's office. Standing at his window and staring out over the great expanse of campus, Adriano said, "Paul, my father is coming back to the States for another visit. My head is crazy with all sorts of mixed up feelings."

"Adriano," Paul interrupted, " let's go on out for a drink and some dinner and we can talk. I'll call Jeff and tell him to go ahead and have something to eat without me.

At the Congress Street Bar and Grill, Adriano and Paul ordered beer and a large platter of fried shrimp.

At length, Adriano began, "Paul, I don't know who else I can talk with about this, but I need to sort out a bunch of things. I'm going to make a really big admission to you, and I hope you won't think I'm a psycho or the worst kind of pervert."

Adriano stared down into his mug of beer, trying to find the right words. Paul said, "If you'd rather not talk about it now, we can wait and talk about something else now."

Adriano looked up and smiled at Paul. "No, I want to talk about it now. For a very long time now, for most of my life, I have had an attraction to my own father. I mean a real attraction, a sexual attraction. I know what you must be thinking. I don't think it was ever that close to the forefront of my consciousness, but when we saw my dad and Michael that night . . . you know . . . in bed together, I not only felt shock, I felt something that was like pure sexual lust for him. It was something I knew I had always felt, but that night it roared over me like a crashing tidal wave. I remember the next day I assured him what he did was okay and I understood and it was just one of those things, and all that crap. But, Paul—don't laugh—what I really wanted to do was to throw him down, rip off his clothes and kiss him and love his body. I know, Paul what you're thinking. It's unnatural and perverted."

Paul reached under the table and put his hand on Adriano's knee and squeezed it tightly. "Adriano, do you believe that Jeff is a psycho or that he's a pervert?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, then why would you think that way about yourself."

"Because Jeff and I aren't the same. I'm the one who has this lust for my own father's body."

"Well, so does Jeff, you know," Paul retorted.

"Jeff has lust for my father's body?"

"No. It's Jeff and his own father."

Adriano's mouth dropped open as he looked at Paul, unbelieving. "Are you saying that Jeff has . . . .? My god, you mean with Michael?"

"Yeah," said Paul. "I thought you knew all about that."

"No, I had no idea," Adriano uttered quietly.

"I didn't know about it, either, until one day when Jeff let it slip out when he thought I already knew."

"Well, Paul, how did it happen? I mean, how did they first find out about how they felt about each other? Did one of them just come out and tell the other one he wanted to go to bed with him?"

"Adriano, I have no idea how it happened. You'd probably have to ask Jeff. He'd understand perfectly if you tell him how you feel and ask for his advice."

"Paul, my father will be arriving next week. I don't know what he expects to do here. I'll be busy with classes. He's going to be here for two weeks. He did say he wants to make a visit again to Michael's ranch. He told me once that he thought he could be a real cowboy if he was given a chance."

Paul said, "I know one thing, Adriano, you're going to sit down with him very early in his visit and somehow let him know how you feel. You already found out something very shocking to you about him on his last visit. Now it's his turn to find out about you. And it might not be a shock to him at all. You'll never know until you tell him."

Adriano and Paul talked for an hour or so longer, and then went to the restroom before departing. They stood at the urinals on either side of a rather short gray-haired man who made no secret of his interest in the cocks of the two young men on either side of him. While he was glancing down first at one and then at the other, Paul looked over his head to Adriano and winked, giving the signal to have a little fun with the curious man standing between them. Paul slowly started stroking his penis until it began to grow hard, and Adriano took the hint and did the same. They started stroking faster and faster and harder and harder, and the little man between them started shaking with excitement, beating his own meat as fast as he could and turning his head rapidly from side to side in an effort to take in every stroke of the two hard penises on either side of him. Soon, both Paul and Adriano began to moan and groan as their orgasms approached. As they both stood back a little and shot their sperm into the urinals, the little man began to shake so hard, he slumped to the floor and he shot his own load all over the front of his dark pants. As he lay there in a pathetic heap panting for every breath with globs of white sperm all over the front of him, Paul and Adriano calmly zipped up, went over to the lavatories, washed their hands, and left.

When Paul arrived back at the apartment, he met Michael just walking to his car. Michael explained that he had just delivered some more of Jeff's belongings that he wanted, but was now heading back to the ranch.

"Why are you going back to the ranch at this late hour, " Paul asked. "It's late and you know the roads are dark. You ought to stay here with us for the night."

"No, Paul, the two of you need to be alone together for awhile. Besides, I have to be back early in the morning to receive a shipment of feed. It's got to the point in the business, you know, that they want their money on delivery. Anyway, I'll be driving back here again in a few days to bring up Jeff's computer, which is having a new hard drive installed. We'll visit then."

"Well, Michael, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay, Paul, don't stand out there. Get in the car and we'll talk."

"Michael, I've been meaning to thank you properly and formally for all the help and consideration you gave me down at the ranch over the last year while I was learning the business. I don't think I could have ever had a better boss."

Patting Paul on the thigh, Michael said, "Paul, it was a great pleasure to me to have you on the ranch. You're bright, a hard worker, and just a damn nice guy all around."

"Thanks, Michael. And there's one other thing. I know you've tried to hide it from Jeff and me, but I know that it's been hard on you to see Jeff leave the ranch, and even harder to see Jeff take up with me like this and live with me."

Michael interrupted, "No, no, Paul, everything's fine. All I really want is for Jeff to be happy. And if he's doing what makes him the most satisfied, that's great with me."

Paul looked into Michael's eyes. "I understand, Michael. But trust me, I know how it's been for you. Don't tell me otherwise, because I know it has been hard on you. I know about the relationship you have with Jeff. So you don't have to pretend. As far as I'm concerned, you and Jeff are still together and always will be."

Michael looked at Paul with a look of relief on his face that Paul really did know what Jeff meant to him and that he understood.

"Michael, when you come up in a few days, please plan on staying over that night. I insist. Promise me you will. It just makes no sense for you to drive all the way back in the dark.

Paul leaned over and took Michael in his arms, and they both held on to each other very tightly for a long time. They felt so close-a closeness they both hoped would always be there.

As Paul watched Michael drive away, he wished that he had been able to talk Michael into staying that night. He truly didn't want to be the one who came between Michael and Jeff. In fact, he had to admit to himself that he was beginning to feel a growing affection for Michael.

When Michael finally arrived back at the ranch at about midnight and pulled into the yard behind the house, a bright moon lit up the whole area. There was a gentle breeze, but otherwise everything was quiet. Everyone must be in bed, Michael thought. Before going into the house, he sat down on the edge of the verandah with his legs dangling over about a foot off the ground below. The barn was still a burned out hulk. Nothing could be done with it until the arson investigation had been completed. Now that that was over, it was a matter of waiting for the insurance company to make its judgment, and then thought had to be given to rebuilding it.

Michael's mind darted about. Should he just give the ranch to Jared, or should he continue to struggle with the damned place. Prices of everything were rising, but income seemed to be shrinking. And on top of that, Michael felt an empty loneliness as profound as anything he had ever known. The moon above him looked cold and bleak, the buildings and sheds around him looked ugly and menacing. The only sounds were from the coyotes howling from the distant corners of the ranch.

"I heard your car pull up, Michael."

Startled, Michael looked around and saw Maggie standing in the kitchen door wearing a long powder blue dressing gown. "Oh, I didn't know you were up, Maggie."

"Why don't you go to bed, Michael. You know you've got those deliveries early in the morning."

"I will in a little while, Maggie. I've just got some thinking to do first."

"I couldn't sleep myself, Michael. I was just getting up to fix myself some hot cocoa. Let me fix you a cup, too."

"I'd like that, Maggie."

In a few minutes, Maggie emerged again with a tray on which was a pitcher of chocolate, two mugs, and a small plate of pecan cookies. Sitting down on the edge of the verandah next to Michael, Maggie pushed herself up close to him and looked off past the barn over the moonlit rangeland.

"It's pretty lonely out here, isn't it Michael? I know you miss Jeff. I miss him, too. It's funny how things in your life just are never the same when you're not near the people you care for. I know that you and everyone else around here laugh at my friends. But ever since I left San Antonio to move down to this place, I've missed them. Rhapsody and Maude and Mercy and . . . . I know we're all a bunch of silly queens, but they're my friends. Rhapsody . . . you know . . . is my best friend. We fight a lot, but we love each other."

Maggie rested her head on Michael's shoulder. "The cocoa tastes good, doesn't it Michael?"

Putting his arm around Maggie's shoulder, Michael responded, "It sure does. A hot drink like this always makes me feel sleepy."

Maggie straightened up suddenly and said firmly, "Well, Michael, it's time for me to take you nighty-night and tuck you in. Remember you have an early morning.

In Michael's bedroom, Maggie watched as he stripped off all his clothes and jumped naked into bed. Maggie sat on the side of the bed and pulled the sheet up tight around Michael's neck as though she were putting a little boy to bed. As she brushed Michael's hair out of his eyes and stroked his head, she said softly, "Sleep tight, my dear Michael, sleep tight." When Michael quickly dropped off , Maggie lay next to him and kissed his cheek.

"We're both lonely, Michael. If you only knew." With Michael's head cradled in the crook of her arm, Maggie drifted off to sleep.

Adriano's father, Mario, was due to fly into the Dallas airport at 9:05 p.m. Adriano agreed to pick him up there, rather than have his father hang around until the following morning to catch the next commuter flight to Austin. Because of the lateness of the hour and the long drive back to Austin, Mario reserved a room at the Airport Marriott for the two of them that night. He felt nervous meeting his father again, not only because of the knowledge between them of his father's sexual activity with Michael, but because of his determination to open up to his father about his own yearnings for sexual closeness with his father.

When Mario finally came into view among the deplaning passengers, Adriano did his best to greet him as he always had—with hugs and kisses on both cheeks, just as they always did back in Italy. There was nothing but happy conversation about Mario's flight and the courses Adriano was teaching at the University. When they finally got to their room, Adriano opened a bottle of the best Italian wine he could find at the grocery store.

"I hope you don't mind grocery store wine, Dad. The grocery stores carry pretty good imported wine these days, although it is not the absolute finest one can find in Italy."

"Never mind, son," Mario chirped, raising his glass. "Here's to your great success with all your students this year!"

As they talked about what had been happening with each other since they last talked, Adriano could feel the conversation beginning to flag. They were quickly running out of things to talk about. That had become the way between Adriano and his father in recent years. They had always had great affection for each other as father and son, but Adriano had, some time ago, gone off to a new life in America, and they now had little in their lives in common with each other.

"I've missed you, Dad."

"I've missed you, too, Adriano. Your mother has been wondering when you will be coming home for a visit."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm so busy here." After a long pause, Adriano repeated, "Dad, I've missed you."

"I know, son. You've already told me that. Come over here on the sofa and sit by me, Adriano." Taking Adriano's hand in his, he continued. "You seem nervous and uncomfortable. Is it that there is still a problem about what happened when I was here before? I tried to explain how that happened. I had a lot to drink and it just happened. Mario paused for a moment and then went on. "Well, no, it didn't just happen. As I told you, I wanted it to happen."

Adriano tightened his grip on his father's hand. "Dad, it isn't about what happened with Michael. I understand about that. I really do."

Adriano looked straight into his father's eyes. "What if it were to 'just happen' with me, too?"


"With me, Dad. What if what happened with Michael would happen with me, too?"

Mario could feel Adriano's hand sweating and shaking. He knew, or thought he knew—hoped he knew—what his son was saying. Putting his hands on both sides of Adriano's head, he ran his thumbs over his lips.

"My God, Adriano!"

"I want to feel close to you, Dad. I've always loved you and needed to feel close to you. Please, Dad!"

Mario slipped his hands around to the back of Adriano's neck and pulled him close. With their eyes closed, they kissed each other's lips, cheeks, eyes, neck. Then for a long time they hugged very tightly, neither wanting to release his grip on the other.

"Adriano," whispered Mario, pulling away slightly. "I need to get to bed, you know."

"I know, Dad," responded Adriano. "I want to lie with you for a while; can I?"

"You're not going anywhere, are you? Just get out of your clothes and let's get to bed."

Both father and son had finished off almost two bottles of wine and both were feeling dizzy, but very aroused. Quickly getting out of their clothes, they both jumped naked into bed and into each other's arms. They could feel each other's hard-ons pressing against their bodies, and each instinctively reached down to hold and fondle the other's. Adriano hoped that his father was not just allowing this to happen because of the wine, but truly wanted this new closer relationship with him. Mario worried a little to himself that Adriano may not, after all, have wanted the "closeness" he spoke of to actually go this far. Would Adriano think poorly of his father for lusting after his own son's body?

Mario could hardly believe the longing he had always had for Adriano was now at last being acted out. To feel his son's tongue moving slowly down over his chest and nipples and onto his stomach and pubic hair was an ecstatic experience of which he had only dreamed. He sensed a kind of sexual frenzy overtake him as he felt his hard penis suddenly being sucked into his son's mouth. Looking down he could see only the top of Adriano's jet-black curly-haired head as it slowly moved up and down on his penis.

As Adriano ran his tongue over the smooth head of his father's penis, he wondered what Mario was thinking. Looking up, he could see his father had his eyes closed with a look of total abandon on his face.

As the next hour passed, they both had had their mouths flooded with each other's sperm. Adriano, lying quietly in his father's arms, said, "Dad, you know how the Mafia families down in Sicily confirm their loyalty and commitment. They cut themselves and mix their blood to prove their brotherhood. Is not drinking each others sexual fluids the same thing, Dad? We've done that and we've tasted each other, and we're now one with each other, right?"

Mario smiled and said, "Well, I guess you could say that, even though it sounds a bit corny and a bit of a stretch. But I know what you mean, and, yes, we are now one with each other. I love you, son."

When Adriano awoke in the morning, he worried that, in the light of day, so to speak, his father would regret what had happened during the night. He looked down at his father's sleeping naked body. The early morning sunlight was streaming in the window, shining directly on Mario's body. Adriano thought that the Mediterranean swarthiness of his father's skin was now transformed into a beautiful, sensuous golden brown color with the sun's rays. He stared at his father's body for a long time. When Mario awoke, he smiled and, reaching for Adriano, pulled him down on top of himself.

Michael drove into Goliad to visit with his brother, Jared, in the county jail.

As they sat face to face, Jared remained silent and staring down, not at Michael.

"Jared, doesn't it embarrass you just a little that this is about the only way you and I see each other anymore? What the fuck is wrong with you? I can understand, in a way, that you're upset that Ol' Ben cut you out of his will. You know, there are legal remedies in situations like this. People go to court and contest wills every day. You could have gone that route. But no! You tried to discredit me as Enrique's guardian, you tried to have my son, Jeff, kidnapped, and now you would set fire to my property and even see that little Enrique suffers a horrible death by fire. Where the hell do you think that would get you, except right here in jail?"

Jared looked up with unmistakable hate burning in his eyes. "I never tried to have Enrique harmed. Whoever told you that is lying."

"We'll see about that at your trial. I've been thinking, also, of having you undergo a psychiatric examination. You're sick, Jared. How in hell did you think that burning down a building on the ranch and killing a little boy was going to help you get part of Ol' Ben's estate awarded to you?"

"Get the fuck out of here, Michael. I have no use for you. I don't ever want to have to look at your shit-face again. From here on out, you're no longer my brother. You can keep your fucking ranch. You can go on back there and every day kneel at the shrine of Ol' Ben's big old fucking king-sized bed where he fucked everybody he could get his hands on—even before Mom died—and where you're carrying on the grand old tradition. Guard! I'm through, here!"

"One more thing, Jared. The sheriff has a lead on the guy who set the fire for you. He's Marcus Jackson, one of your best friends when we were kids. He's had no prior record of any offenses. So now, you've ruined someone else's life besides your own."

Michael had been thinking seriously about selling the ranch. He had mentioned this to several of his acquaintances in Goliad and in San Antonio. When he returned from his visit to the county jail, there was a letter waiting for him from a Jonah Oldenburg in New York. Oldenburg had been informed of Michael's thoughts in this direction and offered to talk with him about a possible sale of the ranch. He was the CEO of a firm that had purchased a number of failing or near-failing farms and cattle ranches around the country and, with careful management practices, were able to cut expenses and turn them into highly profitable enterprises. Oldenburg, who identified himself as a sixty-year-old entrpreneur, asked if he might be given the opportunity to come down to inspect the property and speak with Michael.

Michael was definitely in the mood to talk about the sale, and called Oldenburg on the telephone with an invitation to visit at any time. Oldenburg said he would be delighted to come. They set September 18 as the date for the visit.

Jeff's new hard drive had finally been installed in his computer, and Michael loaded it into his car, along with several boxes of old dishes and cooking utensils that Maggie had gathered up for the boys' use.

Arriving in Austin at about 4:00 p.m., Michael went to the apartment and asked Jeff and Paul to help with bringing in his cargo. Michael told them that dinner was on him and that he was going to take them to a really nice place. He had brought along a coat and a tie, and he said he was taking them to Austin's Cattle Baron's Club at the top of Austin's highest building for a very special meal celebrating the start of new careers for both Jeff and Paul—first year at the University for Jeff and the first year of his assistant professorship for Paul.

They were led to a table at a window, which looked down on part of the University campus and the State capitol building. Also, the Governor's Mansion, where Governor Bush resided, was partially visible.

Michael ordered Rob Roys on the rocks all around since he knew the boys also were Scotch drinkers when they could break away from their beer drinking habit. He raised his glass and said, "Here's to a new and happy adventure for the both of you! Not only starting at the University for you, Jeff, and your new career in academe, Paul, but the relationship you are both forging for yourselves. I suppose I could spout off all the old clich's like: a relationship is a work-in-progress, there must always be give-and-take in a relationship, you should always respect each other, and be understanding of each other's needs, don't nag, don't . . . . Ah, well, I'm not one to give advice. Actually, I'm not one who has any business giving advice. I'm already a man in his late thirties who never has been able to forge a lasting relationship—with man or woman."

"Come on, Dad," Jeff interrupted. "Don't talk that way. You could have a relationship with anyone you wanted. You're free now, unmarried, and still one of the best lookin' guys I know anywhere!"

"Okay, boys, we'll get off that subject before it even begins. I want to tell you something, anyway, that I've been thinking about for some time. You know, as I've said before, ranching is a tough business. We've got a lot of land; we're land rich. But we're cash poor. And getting worse. Prices of feed have skyrocketed, good workers are hard to find, even though wages are up, and we're not getting the price we need on our livestock. The whole thing is putting a drain on us."

Paul finally said, "Michael, I love that ranch. Do you think if I came back there to work, we could together to make a go of it? I don't need much salary."

"I know, Paul, but what the ranch needs is money. It's all outgo and very little income. No amount of good management or personal sacrifice can overcome that."

The dinner of New York Strip steaks arrived, and the three men ate quietly for a few minutes. Laying his fork down, Michael looked up.

"And you know, you guys, I'm just kind of lonely down there. I've been trying to manage that place for about a year now, and it's been fun and interesting, and all that, but it's kind of getting old. For one thing, I'm sick and tired of always having to worry about what Jared is up to and dealing with all the damage he creates. And, too, I . . . you know . . . miss you guys. I love you guys. Jeff, you've always been a part of my life, and Paul, you'd become like a permanent fixture down there. Your smile, your infectious laugh, your willingness to do anything for anybody. It just ain't the same down there without the two of you."

Jeff and Paul glanced at each other. It was clear that they were now dealing with a man who had a bad case of feeling sorry for himself and was uneasy about the idea that the age of forty is just around the corner. As Paul finished his steak, he excused himself and headed for the restroom, leaving Jeff and his father to talk.

"Dad," Jeff began. "It isn't the management problems at the ranch, is it? It really has something to do with Paul and me, doesn't it."

"No, that's not it at all."

"Sure it is, Dad. It's the old 'when the kids leave home syndrome,' isn't it? And I do realize that in our case, it's somewhat more than just that because of the special relationship we have."

Michael felt a little relieved that Jeff had hit the nail on the head, so to speak.

"Dad, you and I have talked about this before, and I promised you that nothing has changed in the close relationship you and I have enjoyed. I'm just up here in Austin going to school, like we had all planned. It's not going to last forever. I'll probably be back at the ranch almost every weekend, and I expect you to visit me up here as often as you like. Nothing's changed, dad."

Michael thought to himself that something had indeed changed. Paul was now the object of Jeff's affections. "Jeff, you're right. I'm just being foolish about this. But I'm still going to see about unloading the ranch. It's becoming an intolerable financial burden."

Paul finally returned to the table, and was glad to see that Michael was now smiling. After the bill was paid, the three headed back to the apartment. Paul made a half-hearted suggestion that they all go out to the "Nest" for an after dinner drink before going back. Remembering that it was there where he was stabbed and where Paul's friend, Marco, was murdered, Jeff announced that he will never again in his life go near that place.

Jeff's and Paul's apartment was furnished sparsely. The living room had a sofa, one chair, and a lamp. Jeff and Paul sat on the sofa, with Michael taking the chair. Paul brought out two bottles of beer for Jeff and himself, and offered a drink to Michael. Yes, he would have a Scotch on the rocks. The conversation could not exactly be described as strained, but there seemed to be no particular purpose to anything that was said. It was conversation for conversation sake. Paul moved close to Jeff, putting his arm around his shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek. As the minutes passed, the fidgeting and groping became somewhat more intense and animated. Michael was feeling more and more uneasy.

"You know," said Michael finally, "it's really getting pretty late. I think you two need to get on to bed. I notice you don't have a bed in your spare room, so I'll just make do on your sofa, if you can get me a sheet and a pillow."

"Dad, that sofa is no bigger than a love-seat," said Jeff. "It's going to be awfully uncomfortable."

Paul said, "Why don't we watch some TV for awhile. Our TV's in the bedroom." With a wink at Jeff, he continued. "I'm sorry we don't have any room for a chair in there, but our bed is queen size and we can lie down there and watch."

Michael felt a little uneasy lying down on the bed with Jeff and Paul on either side of him. Paul flipped through the channels and, not finding anything anyone wanted to watch, suggested that he put on one of the porno videos he had recently purchased. The video was a straight video with one woman and three men. The three men fucked the woman individually in both pussy and asshole, but as the video progressed, she took the penises of all three men at once-one in her pussy, one in her asshole, and one in her mouth. By this time all three men on the queen-sized bed had removed their clothing, piece by piece, and had their bodies pressed together, while slowly jacking off.

None of them was completely sober. Aside from the several Scotch drinks they had consumed at the club, both Jeff and Paul had finished off ten bottles of beer between them after returning to the apartment. Paul was unable to keep his hands off of Michael and began massaging his legs and torso, while kissing him on the face and neck. Jeff began to do the same thing. They both started at Michael's head and gave him a tongue bath, each taking one side of Michael's body, all the way down to his feet. Michael had never expected this, but now found himself in a dream-like state with these two hot young men bathing his entire body with their tongues.

Rolling Michael over onto his side, Jeff brought his tongue up over his balls and, with a slurp, sucked his father's rigid penis into his mouth. Lying behind Michael, Paul, was able to bury his face in Michael's ass trench and taste his asshole, which Paul could feel clenching each time his tongue touched it.

Paul then asked Jeff if he remembered that night in Austin at the motel when they were with Adriano and when he and Jeff pushed their penises together and Adriano lowered his ass down on them and took that double penis all the way to their pelvic bones. Jeff did indeed remember and instructed his father how they should lie on their backs and slide their legs under each other until their balls and hard penises where standing erect against each other. Paul then stood with his legs straddling their hips. He slowly lowered himself down to the double penis, pushing his ass onto them until they entered. As he lowered himself all the way down, he could feel this enormous double pole reaching far up into his rectum.

Both Michael and Jeff watched their penises slowly disappear into Paul's butt. As Paul moved his ass up and down, faster and faster, the feeling of their penises pressing hard against each other brought them closer and closer to orgasm.

"Dad," said Jeff, "let's try to come together. I can come anytime. You give me the signal when you think you're ready to come. Paul was facing Michael as he rode the double penises. As Michael watched Paul's asshole with lubricant oozing out of it, he played with Paul's balls and also tried to jack him off. Jeff, on the other side, savored the view of Paul's smooth, round buns as they rose and fell, running his hands softly over them.

Paul began to ride harder and faster and both Michael and Jeff were panting and groaning louder and louder.

Michael then shouted, "I'm coming, Jeff. I'm coming!"

Jeff could see on Michael's face that his orgasm was beginning, which was the signal for Jeff to let it all go. The sensation of feeling the other one's penis throbbing violently against his own inside of Paul's rectum was almost more than Michael and Jeff could bear. They both yelled out loudly as they felt every stream surging up their stiff shafts and into Paul. Just then, with both penises rubbing against his prostate, Paul began to shoot long ropes of thick hot white sperm onto Michael's face and hair.

Their orgasms seemed to last forever. Slowly, Paul leaned over and kissed Michael and slurped up a great deal of his own sperm off of Michael's chin and nose and cheeks. They all lay there exhausted and panting, with the slowly deflating double penises still inside of Paul's rectum, and with sperm beginning to ooze out of it and running down their penises into their pubic hair.

Paul finally rolled off onto his back. They all repositioned themselves so that their heads were on the pillows.

"Michael," said Paul eventually. "I hope this shows you how much Jeff and I love you. You'll always be a part of our lives. And for your information, this didn't just happen. I planned this to happen."

Jeff, smiling, nodded in agreement.

"And I love you both, too," Michael said, pulling both of their heads over onto his chest. "You guys are . . . more than anyone could ask for."

As Jeff and Paul each started sucking on one of Michael's nipples, Michael jumped up and said, "Hey, you want to get me going again? I've got to get up and go take a leak."

While Michael was in the bathroom, Jeff turned to Paul and said, "Did I hear you say you loved my dad?'

"Yeah. I love him, Jeff. Just like you do. He's going to stay a part of our lives. That's what you want, too, don't you?"

"I sure do. Thanks, Paul, for this."

According to the plan, Mr. Oldenburg was due September 18 for his appointment with Michael to discuss the sale of the ranch. As Michael waited out on the back verandah, a gray gun-metal Honda Accord rental pulled up into the yard. A gentleman dressed in coat and tie and carrying a black brief case emerged and headed for Michael with his hand extended.

"Mr. Walker?"

"Yes, you're Jonah Oldenburg."

"Oh, no, I'm his son. My name is Karl Oldenburg."

Karl Oldenburg was a tall, slender man with short cropped black hair and full, but attractive Teutonic features. He seemed to have a rather royal bearing to his walk as he approached Michael, who judged the man to be about his own age. In addition to that, he had a beautifully refined English accent.

Waving his hand toward a chair on the verandah, Michael said, "Please have a seat here, Karl, and I'll get us something to drink." Then, turning toward the door, he shouted, "Maggie, please let us have our drinks out here now."

As Maggie delivered a tray of Lemonade and cookies, Karl, who expected a woman, couldn't help staring at Maggie.

"Thank you, Maggie. This looks just fine."

As Maggie departed, Karl said, "Excuse me, Mr. Walker. Did you call that man 'Maggie?'"

"Well, yes. His name is really George, but he prefers to be called Maggie. It's kind of a stage name, if you know what I mean. He sometimes likes to be thought of as a woman, or rather sometimes he plays a woman. Not plays, exactly, but . . . you know . . . she, or rather he . . . does a thing with . . . something feminine, or rather . . ."

"Please, Michael!" said Maggie as she burst back out onto the verandah. "What Michael is trying to say, Mr. Oldhead or Oakenbucket or whatever your name is, I'm a queen, a precious, precious queen. I'm a fag, a queer, a ho-mo-sex-u-all, as it 'twere!" Extending his hand as a lady would in earlier days to be grasped and kissed, Maggie purred, "I'm so pleased to meet you. Hmmmmm. Now enjoy your fuckin' lemonade." At that, Maggie threw her head back, turned on her heel, and disappeared into the house.

Karl sat in stunned silence with his mouth open and staring after Maggie as she left. Michael was mortified, as he usually was when Maggie greeted some of his guests. There ensued an awkward silence, which ended abruptly as Karl let out a whoop! Doubling over with laughter, Karl pounded his knee with his fist, and could hardly get the words out of his mouth for his laugher.

"She's mah-velous! Simply mah-velous! Where on Earth did you find her—this treasure!"

"Oh, well, I . . . ."

"Never mind! She's an absolute jewel! I must see more of her while I'm here. But for now, I need to see some of your financial statements and a balance sheet of some sort, if you keep those sorts of records."

"Well, of course I keep those sorts of records, Karl. This is a business, you know. I have pertinent records right in these folders. These are copies, and you can look at them now, or take them with you."

As Karl leafed through the folders, Michael couldn't help but notice and admire his visitor's hands. They were small and rather delicate with long slender fingers. Karl's face was long and rather narrow with the sweetest little dimples when he smiled. A very straight Patrician nose lent an elegant character to his face.

"Well, Mr. Walker, would you be so good as to show me the property."

"Please call me Michael, Karl. Are you a horseman?"

"Why, yes indeed I am. But our English horses are quite different from your American work horses."

"I assure you, Karl, that we have some horses on this ranch that are every bit as gentle—and as genteel, if I may use that term—as anything you have in England. I'll have a couple of horses saddled up and we'll ride the range so you can get a feel for what we have here. We have a number of bridle paths on the ranch, but we will also get out on some rougher terrain, if you don't mind."

While the horses were being saddled and the bridles installed, Michael walked Karl through the various buildings near the house. The new barn was now under construction, and the other buildings had recently had a fresh coat of paint applied. Karl was genuinely impressed.

"I've never been on a real Texas cattle ranch," Karl said as they walked to the horse barn. "I've seen plenty of western movies over the years with John Wayne and all those other stars riding over the range and into the sunset."

Michael and Karl mounted their horses and rode out to the northern edge of the ranch, then along the perimeter to the south. They had been riding for almost an hour and a half while Michael explained the layout of the various sections—the rangeland, the fields of Milo Maize, the natural gas fields, spotted with wells topped with pumping devices, and the natural streams and rivers on the property. Reaching a clump of Mesquite and Cottonwoods by a stream, they dismounted and walked to the water's edge where they sat and ate some strawberry muffins and drank coffee that Maggie had packed in their saddlebags.

"Michael, I am really impressed. I never realized that when they talked about the wide-open spaces of Texas, that it was so vast, and so beautiful, and so peaceful. There's not a sound of civilization out here—just the sound of the birds and the rushing water. I could sit here for hours."

Michael could see the genuine look of tranquility on Karl's face. Karl was showing himself as a human being, affected by this new world that surrounded him, not so much as the cold, determined businessman from the East.

"Karl, I can tell you're from England. Your father, though, had a distinct New York accent."

Karl smiled, drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them and looked across the water. "I'm actually the adopted son of Jonah Oldenburg. He has business interests all over the world. His ownership of property mainly resides in buildings in the major capitols of the world. He maintains an office in London, and while he was there one year, he met a young English girl and married her. They decided to make that city their permanent home. Since his wife could have no children, they decided to adopt, and I was the chosen one. My adopted father, however, found it necessary to travel almost continuously around the world tending to his business, and I was left in London with my mother. He provided well for us and I not only lived in a large detached house, I had both a nanny and a governess through my younger years. My parents are currently living in New York, and I now work for the firm, so to speak. I travel about the country doing for him what I'm doing here on your ranch."

Michael said, "You seem very affected by what you see here."

"I am, Michael. There is something about this place I can't explain."

"Where are you staying while you're here, Karl?"

"I'm at the Longhorn Motel in Goliad."

"Well, Karl, I insist that you stay here on the ranch. We have plenty of room at the house. We'll have a good dinner, some wine, and talk some more this evening. Then tomorrow morning we'll ride out again and see the hill country that extends down into the western part of our land."

Maggie was gracious and entertaining, as usual, and put on a fine pork chop dinner. Karl and Maggie seemed to find a common ground and spent a good while kidding and laughing with each other. Maggie's remarks were increasingly laced with sexual innuendo that Karl reacted to with great good humor.

After dinner, Michael took Karl to the bunkhouse to meet some of the hands. When he met Jake and Enrique in their room, Jake was apologetic.

"Sorry the room is such a fuckin' mess. Don't have no place for ya to sit down, cuz I lent the fuckin' chair to the guys next door for their poker game."

After they met the other ranch hands, Karl told Michael that he liked them all and wished that he had guys like that to work with instead of all the stiff-collared assholes he had to put up with in New York.

Michael and Karl finally said goodnight, agreeing that they would rise early and, after breakfast, would continue their tour of the ranch. Karl was given Jeff's room for the night. He got undressed and sat at the open window listening to the howling coyotes in the distance.

There was a knock on the door. It was Maggie in her floor-length robe, holding a tray with a pitcher and two mugs..

"Karl, I thought you might like some hot chocolate before retiring. Something hot always helps one sleep well."

"I would love some, Maggie. Please join me, will you? Please sit down."

Maggie loved the wonderful formality of the English. "Thank you Karl, I'd love to."

Karl walked to the door, looked out, up and down the hall, closed it quietly and turned the bolt.

The next day, following a morning of riding over the property, Michael and Karl stopped at Michael's private hide-a-way he had built in the Cottonwoods on the knoll. They sat out on the porch looking out over the rangeland.

"Michael, this may sound silly, but I really wish I had a cowboy hat like yours and some boots. They look so sexy!"

"Well, why don't we go into Goliad this afternoon, Karl, and get you a hat and some boots."

Karl began to look pensive and rather sad. "Michael, I've been thinking a lot this morning. You know, I've got lots of money—more than I know what to do with." Looking straight at Michael, he went on. "I don't know how else to say this, but would you like a partner to help run this ranch?"

Michael looked surprised and started to speak.

"No, no, Michael. Don't say anything yet. I've never had a feeling of peace and of belonging as I have had here with you and all the men I've met this last couple of days. And this wonderful vista, this wonderful land. It literally makes me speechless. I'm not happy, Michael, working for my father. There is no affection between us. It's always just business. He uses me like a tool. But I have a fortune in my own name. It's controlled by me, not my father."

"I don't know what to say, Karl. You make my head swim."

"I don't want to see this beautiful place gobbled up by my father's firm. Would you consider having me as a partner? I'm pretty smart. I think I could learn." Then holding up his bare arms, he went on. "And you can see here that I'm pretty strong. I'm not afraid of hard work."

Michael could hardly believe his ears. Maybe, he thought, the ranch could be saved. He liked Karl a lot, and during the past two days, he never once felt a pang of loneliness.

"Karl, I never expected this. I promise you I'll consider this. You and I seem to get along well, and having you as a partner is a very enticing idea."

They stood up and, with smiles on their faces, they shook hands. They were so exhilarated with the idea that, as they held each other's hand, they instinctively pulled each other towards themselves, throwing their arms around each other in a tight embrace.

To be continued...


Posted: 08/29/08