Twisted (2 page)

“I reckon that things turned out how they’re supposed to. I got you, and I got friends. Imagine if I was tryin’ to live a lie, alone and lonely.”

“I’m here for ya, buddy.”

He turned his face to mine. I leaned into the kiss. He tasted like Mike, warm, male, familiar. I moved my tongue against his teeth and then probed his tongue, finally nibbling his lower lip really gently. I’d never enjoyed kissing anyone as much as I do Mike. Each kiss with him was sweet and sensual. Sometimes we’d be gentle, sometimes we’d both have beard burn real bad, but it was always special.

“Thanks, Jeffy, for bein’ there. Now let’s watch a movie.” We settled on
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
. It was a great movie. I liked it a lot, and Mike had never seen it.

We both enjoyed the movie, and Mike was asking all about the
Harry Potter
characters. I had the books upstairs and figured I should get ’em out for him to read. While we were watching the movie, it had started to snow. I turned off the lights, and we watched the snow gently falling on an already magical landscape of silver, crystal, and blue. The only light we had was the dying fire and the cold silvery light that shone through the picture windows. It was nice to just have some time together for the two of us. We ended up makin’ love in front of the glowing embers in the fireplace, in the silver light from the outside. It was incredible. Each time with Mike is better and better.

I
T
WAS
a few days later, and Mike and I had just got back from cross-country skiing. We were planning on going though our normal routine of skiing, hot tub, and dinner when the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was Mary Grace, the wonderful lady who runs the artists’ co-op in town.

Mary Grace is a fantastic person. She’s one of those aging hippies who seem to wear tie-dye, wool socks, and Birkenstocks all the time. Her earth-mother persona was represented by her thick, salt-and-pepper hair parted in the middle, her roomy, natural fiber shirts over her tie-dye T-shirt, and her flowing denim skirts. Since it was Mary Grace, I picked up the phone.

“Hey, Mary Grace, how are you?”

“I’m doing very well, Jeff. How about you and Mike?”

“We’re happy as a couple of cattle chewin’ their cud.”

She giggled. “I’ll take that to mean you’re happy. I was wondering how the dude business is going. Perhaps we could get together tomorrow in Winslett, if you’re going to be here, and we could have a cup of coffee and catch up.”

“I reckon we could do that. I just had an idea, Mary Grace. Mike and I been thinkin’ about skiin’ to Winslett, and then skiin’ back. We could meet you in town and grab a piece of pie and coffee before headin’ back.”

“I know I’m not your mother, Jeff, but that’s almost thirty miles, round trip. Are you up to that, with your shoulder? I know that normally that would be a good workout for you, but if you’re not sure about the whole thirty miles, I could drive you back from Winslett, or pick you up somewhere on the way back and take you to the ranch.”

She was referring to the gunshot wound I’d suffered when cattle were being rustled from our ranch and others nearby. “Mary Grace, you are awesome. How about we stop by the co-op and then go over to Rick’s for some pie and coffee. Mike and I can ski halfway back and then get a ride the rest of the way, if that’s okay with you, that is.”

“Of course it’s okay with me. It will be a lot of fun.”

“Great, so we’ll see you early tomorrow afternoon then.”

“Just come by the co-op, and I’ll see you then.” We said our goodbyes.

I had shucked my coat when I got in the house. I was still dressed in my ski tights and windbreaker-type jacket. Mike was still dressed too. Cross-country skiing burns a lot of calories and works up a lot of sweat. Mike and I were both soaked through from sweat and from the snow on our legs. Now we were both really cold. I started to strip right in the mud room.

“Come on, buddy, we can rinse off in the bathroom here and head out to the hot tub. Just leave these clothes here. We can get ’em after dinner.”

We jumped in the shower together to rinse off and then headed for the hot tub. It was really cold until we got in the hot water. Mike and I sat real close and ducked down low into the hot water. The snow was softly falling around us.

“Mike, what did ya make for dinner?” It was his turn to cook. Both of us know our way around a frying pan, so we take turns cooking.

“I made some chicken étouffée and put it in the slow cooker. While you were talkin’ to Mary Grace, I put on some rice.”

“I love it when you make Cajun food, bud.” Mike’s parents were originally from Louisiana and were Cajun. I leaned over and gave him a long, deep kiss. He seemed to melt into me and ended up on my lap in the hot tub.

“I know ya do. That’s why I made it. I reckoned that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Buddy, ya already got my heart.”

“Well, I was hopin’ to get somethin’ else tonight.”

“If it’s what I think it is, I don’t think you’re in any danger of goin’ without.”

Mike smiled up at me, a tender, caring expression mixed with a good bit of smoldering want. We were still in the honeymoon stage, so he had nothing to worry about, but it was real nice to hear him ask.

“Jeffy, I think dinner must be about ready. Let’s eat and then get to bed.”

“You got it, buddy.” We got out of the hot tub, dried off, and got dressed in longhandles and socks. People always make fun of me because I tend to run around the house in my underwear, but it’s my house, and I’m comfortable. It’s not something I’d do when the dudes are around though. Mike’s étouffée was great, meltingly tender chicken in dark, spicy gravy served over mounds of fluffy rice. He sprinkled chopped green onions on top, which gave it a nice crunch.

We were both ravenous as we’d skied fifteen miles that day.

As Mike was fixing the plates for us, I could see the difference all the skiin’ was making in the muscles of his legs and ass. His longhandles were stretched tight across his ass and around his thighs and calves. His walking around like that was definitely giving rise to all sorts of visions.

Finally dinner was done. I cleaned up and then we headed upstairs. No sooner than we got into the bedroom, and we were all over each other. Mike and I have real similar builds. We’re both about six feet tall and kinda lean but muscular, and we both get a lot of exercise and work out five or six days a week, so we both have broad shoulders, well-developed chests, arms, and legs, and cuts in our abs. The resemblance ends there though. Mike is blond, with these beautiful, tawny, brown-gold eyes. His beard is red, and he’s very furry. You could call his chest and belly a pelt. He’s also got this fine, blond hair all over his arms, legs, and ass. The hair under his arms and below the belt is red like his beard. I think he’s the handsomest guy I’ve ever seen. Me, I’m darker, olive skin, black hair, and green eyes. My grandmother was Native American, Nez Perce, and it’s obvious from my coloring.

I held Mike in my arms, and we kissed a deep, longing kiss, which spoke volumes without words. He tasted of spice from dinner, want, and need. I was right there with him. I pushed him down on the bed and slowly began unbuttoning his longhandles, rubbing his chest, belly, and balls as I went. Finally I pulled his underwear and socks off. He lay on his back with his legs spread and his hands behind his head. I undressed as he watched.

“Mike, buddy, you are incredibly good lookin’. Did I ever tell ya that?”

“Only about four or five times a day. You’re makin’ me believe it, but really, you’re the good lookin’ one.”

“Your legs and ass look just incredible. All that skiin’ has really got you pumped up. All that muscle, fur, and that beautiful smile of yours has me goin’, bud.” I was hard as rock and dripping. Mike was all stiff too. When I mentioned the muscle from the skiing, he grabbed the backs of his thighs and hoisted his legs in the air.

“You can see my ass a bit better this way.” He grinned at me lasciviously.

“I ain’t gonna be responsible for my actions if you stay in that position.”

“Oh really, Jeffy, and just what might you do?”

“I’m gonna fuck ya, buddy, long, hard, and deep.”

“Ride me, Jeffy, please. I wanna know I’ve been fucked.”

Although Mike hadn’t been really sexually experienced when we got together, he wasn’t afraid to try new things or to speak up about what he wanted. He really liked to be submissive and actually liked it a bit rough. He’d surprised me once by asking if I’d spank him.

I opened the drawer on the nightstand and got out lube and condoms. I knelt down by him and pushed his legs up even further. His sweet ass was on display, that beautiful little puckered hole and the blond fur all over. I leaned into him and slowly worked my tongue around his hole. He began to whimper. He was embarrassed at first when I told him he whimpered when he was all horned up. I finally got it through his head I liked it and it turned me on no end. I gently nibbled his ass cheeks, and then began to tongue his hole. It took all of about a minute for him to start relaxing and opening up. The boy just loves to get fucked. Even though we’re close to the same age, he likes it when I call him boy. He also loves getting rimmed, and he’s got such a beautiful ass I’m happy to oblige. I continued tonguing him until he was really going good. I worked my way up the sensitive area behind his balls and then licked and sucked on them for a while. Finally I moved up to his cock. A little puddle of precum had already formed under his dick. I licked up the back of the shaft. When I took him in my mouth, his precum had a sweet taste. I took my time making him feel good. He was squirming and whimpering something fierce. Finally I pulled off.

“So what do ya want, buddy?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Why don’t you beg for it?”

“Please, Jeffy, please fuck me. I need it bad. I need you bad, Jeffy, please.”

I lubed up his ass and slipped a finger in. He moaned and his cock jumped against his belly. I found his gland and began massaging it in a slow circle.

“Yeah, Jeffy, that’s it. Holy Christ that feels so good.” I worked another finger in. He sighed in pleasure.

“You like it when I fingerfuck ya, don’t ya, buddy?”

“Yeah, hell yeah, I like it.”

“Makes you wanna get fucked, though, don’t it?”

“It does, Jeffy. Fuck me. I need to have you in me. I need it bad.” I rubbed my cock against his hole. He pushed his hips toward me. I had gotten some lube on it, so I used the hand that wasn’t fingering him to put on the condom. I pulled out my fingers and positioned my cock head at his opening.

“What do ya want, buddy?”

“I wanna get fucked, please.” His voice rose in a pleading tone. I continued to rub my cock head on his asshole, teasing him gently.

“Who’s gonna fuck you?”

“You are, Jeffy, my Jeffy. You’re gonna fuck me.” I pushed in with a slow, gentle stroke.

“Oh God yes! That feels sooo good! I love havin’ you in me.” I leaned over and kissed him while I fucked him with a nice, slow rhythm. He caught on to the rhythm and began pushing against me on the in stroke and clenching down on the out stroke. It felt incredible.

“Mike, that is good, you feel great, all warm and tight. Just like a glove. So good.” I grabbed his ankles and pushed his legs further back and further apart. He looked so incredible. I could watch him all spread out for me like this for hours. He looked up at me with a gentle smile on his face, an unfocused kind of grin that showed he was really into what he was feeling. After a while I put his feet on my shoulders. With one hand I rubbed his chest and teased his nipples. With the other I began stroking his cock in the same rhythm as I was moving in and out of his ass. He was whimpering nonstop now.

I could tell he was close, since he was squirming all around and clenching down really tight on my dick. All of a sudden the pressure on my dick increased as he tightened up. His cock jumped in my hand, and he shot, his juice hitting his beard and leaving a pearly trail down his chest and belly. The additional tightness got me, and I came just a moment after him. We were both trembling with the release. I pulled out, pulled off the condom, and lay next to him. He wiped off with a hand towel from the nightstand and backed into me. I put my arms around him. He felt nice, warm and familiar.

“Thanks, Jeffy. That was just incredible.”

“Yeah it was.” I kissed his neck and nuzzled my beard against it. “Let’s get some sleep, buddy, we done used up this day.” We drifted off, breathing in unison, our hearts beating with one synchronized beat.

W
E
SKIED
off the trail and into Winslett. It had been a fun ski trip from the ranch into town. It was cold, only in the low twenties, and windy. The wind had been blowing right in our faces as we skied. Both Mike and I had icicles in our beards, and our mustaches were frozen from the condensation of our breath. We looked like old man winter and his brother.

When we got into town, we took off the skis. Just about every place in Winslett has a rack for skis in the winter. The Methow Valley Trail System is a huge tourist attraction for winter sports, and most shops, restaurants, and pubs stay open all winter, hoping for the tourist trade.

Mike and I had been laughing pretty hard on the trail. I kept encouraging him to ski ahead of me, and he finally figured out it was so I could watch his ass in those ski tights. After he figured that one out, we took turns skiing first.

We put our skis and poles in the ski rack in front of the co-op and walked in. An older gentleman was looking at one of my sculptures. He caught sight of us, and then did a double take. He looked quickly at the pictures of us and then back at us.

“Are you Jeff Connelly, the sculptor?” We probably looked a bit different with icy beards and in ski clothes rather than cowboy gear.

“Guilty as charged.”

He stuck out his hand. “Ronald Sears. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Connelly. You must be Mike Guidry.” He then shook hands with Mike. Mary Grace heard the voices and came out front.