I WOKE up with a start, not knowing for a moment where I was. It was the birds that had awakened me. I could hear them chattering and singing, and I rose naked from the bed.
Hmmm…. I usually wore boxers to bed, at least. How much did I drink last night? I didn’t feel hung over, so it mustn’t have been too much.
The alarm clock read just after seven thirty, and I thought it was at least nine before we were scheduled to do anything. I had an hour and a half to kill.
I found my jeans on the floor by the kitchen sink—how had they gotten there?—and my underwear in the bathroom. I put them both on and walked barefoot out onto the porch. Something buzzed by my face, and when I looked around, I saw two hummingbirds at a feeder, their throats glowing ruby red in the morning sunlight. The tiny creatures were hovering midair, and the sight took my breath away. I’d never seen hummingbirds so close before, and as a third one joined them, I could actually see it had a glistening green throat. I stepped closer, and they shot away, one seeming to scold me as it did so. I couldn’t help but laugh in delight.
It was a stunning morning.
Coffee. Sit on the porch and drink coffee, I thought. Did I have a coffeemaker in the cabin?
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horse, and soon I saw it wasn’t one, but two. Cole sat atop his horse, and he was leading Mystic.
“You’re up,” he said. “Good morning!”
I suddenly realized I wasn’t wearing a shirt and Cole was looking at me. Not rudely or anything, but looking all the same.
Once again, Cole made me blush.
“Morning,” I said and crossed my arms over my chest. I felt so exposed. But why? I had pants on. What was the big deal? I’d been around men when I wasn’t wearing a shirt all my life.
But were they looking at you like that?
“I come bearing coffee and bagels,” he said, holding up a Thermos and a brown paper bag.
He brought me breakfast.
“Let me get a shirt,” I said before I headed back inside.
“Bring a mug,” he called after me.
I pulled a shirt from the duffel bag I still hadn’t unpacked. The baggiest T-shirt I had. I found a coffee mug next to the sink and went back out. Cole was sitting in one of the rockers and pouring steaming coffee into the red lid of his Thermos. It smelled wonderful. He held it out as if to pour, and I offered my mug. I noticed it had a bear on it, of course.
“Cream? Sweetener?”
“No, thanks,” I said and sat down next to him.
Cole was wearing tight jeans again, a pale blue cowboy shirt—the top few snaps were undone, and I could see his chest looked totally smooth. Would he have a few stray hairs tucked between his pecs or surrounding his nipples? His black cowboy hat was perched slightly forward on his head.
I looked away and saw he’d tied the horses to a railing set away from the porch. Mystic was pulling at some grass.
I heard the bag crinkling and turned as Cole held it out for me.
I peeked in to see a large bagel and some packets of cream cheese.
“I toasted it for you, but I didn’t know if you’d want anything on it,” he said.
“Thanks,” I replied, and after taking the bagel, I smeared it with a good two packets of the Philadelphia brand. “Something that wasn’t grown or made here,” I said, holding up an empty packet.
Cole laughed. “Not the bagel either. Comes from a great little shop in town.”
“How far is town?” I took a huge bite of the bagel. Delicious.
“About twenty miles,” Cole said. “Not far.”
“I wouldn’t want to walk it.” I stuck out a foot and flexed my toes.
Cole pointed. “Hobbit feet!”
“Huh?” I looked down at my foot.
“Hairy on top,” Cole explained. “Like a hobbit.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not, so I asked him.
“I think it’s good,” he replied, and his cheeks turned pink.
I followed suit and tucked my foot under the rocker—and felt naked once more. You’re only barefoot. Why the hell are you embarrassed?
Because he likes my feet!
That’s not exactly what he said.
Time for a subject change.
I took a careful drink of my coffee. Damn, it was terrific coffee. Had it been so good last night?
“It’s fresh ground,” Cole explained, and I realized he meant the coffee. He must have seen the appreciation on my face.
“Definitely not a commercial blend,” he continued. “And no, we don’t grow coffee here either.” He chuckled.
“So why this?” I said, holding up the bagel and coffee.
“Hmmm?” he asked.
“Breakfast in… porch,” I answered, then fought a blush at the connotation.
“Oh!” He rolled his eyes. “Your family’s up already and eating the continental breakfast, and they asked if we could go riding this morning. Monday is usually horse orientation, but they know horses front and back, and we already covered the reminders yesterday. So I said yes, and since I already had Madrigal saddled, I went ahead and got Mystic ready for you.”
“Oh! I kept trying to remember to ask you your horse’s name.”
Cole nodded. “I call her Maddy. Rode on down ’cause I wasn’t sure when you’d be up. I need to get you a radio.”
“Okay,” I said. “When do I need to be up there this morning?”
“Well, we are talking about three kids,” Cole answered. “So about an hour ago.”
“An hour ago?” I jumped up.
“Finish,” he said with a wave at my breakfast.
I sat and took another monstrous bite.
“We really do need to get you a hat,” Cole replied.
I shook my head. “I never was much of a hat guy,” I said through a mouthful of bagel.
“Well, you got a little sun yesterday.”
“I did?” I touched my face and maybe felt a little heat there.
“You need something,” Cole explained. “You’ll fry.”
“I guess,” I said.
“At least a cap. Why don’t we check the gift shop when you’re done? They’re pretty reasonable.”
I nodded, gobbled the last of my breakfast, and went inside for my boots. I peeked in the bathroom mirror while I was there, and sure enough, my cheeks were a rosy red. Not too bad, though. Knowing me it would tan out by the next morning, as long as it wasn’t made worse today. At least it’d cover my blushing.
Then it was time to try to get on Mystic again. Would Cole help me?
Turns out he didn’t need to. I did better the second time. And when Cole swung up onto his horse, I couldn’t help but notice how the muscles in his thighs and ass flexed in his skintight jeans.
I looked away.
Why? Look. What’s looking going to hurt?
No! It was the first step on a slippery slope. Do not look!
Of course this was only Monday. How did I not look for the whole next week?
THE BASEBALL-STYLE caps weren’t bad. They came in several different colors, and, yes, they had a bear patch on the front. They were cheap, and Cole did insist I needed one. Amy appeared in the shop and nodded her agreement as she headed over to a turnstile filled with postcards.
“You’re pink today,” she said over her shoulder. “You’ll be a lobster by tonight.”
“All right! All right!” I cried, hands raised in surrender.
“I’ve got something later to help with that burn,” Cole said. “A cream we can put on you. The stuff is like magic.”
“Sure,” I mumbled while I looked at two caps. Red or black?
“Of course,” Cole said, “you’d look real good in one of these.” And before I knew what he was doing, he’d placed a cowboy hat on my head. “Whoa!”
“Gosh,” Amy said. I turned and she was blinking at me, wide-eyed.
“What?” I asked her.
“Grrrrrrrrrr…!”
“Grrrr?” What was that supposed to mean?
“Grrrrrrrr is right,” Cole said with a growl of his own.
He placed those big square-tipped hands on my shoulders and turned me so I was looking into a full-length mirror. “Just look, Big Daddy.”
I looked at my image in surprise. I looked pretty good. The hat—black, much like Cole’s—complemented my dark eyes and hair rather well. And here I imagined I’d look stupid in a cowboy hat. I saw the look in Cole’s eyes over my shoulder and felt my face heat up.
That look! He was making me feel naked again.
At least he wouldn’t see I was blushing through my sunburn.
“You look great. Like a real cowboy. I mean it.”
I laughed. Me? A “real” cowboy? I turned away from the mirror. “It’s probably pretty expensive.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Amy said. “Let’s make it an early birthday present, babe.” There was that word again, and it made me nervous.
“No, no,” I said.
“When’s your birthday?” Cole asked.
“In about a month,” I said, glancing back at my reflection. The hat really did look good.
“Well, happy early birthday, Daddy,” Cole said.
I like older men. The memory of his words almost made me blush again. How much older? I wondered.
“I’m buying it for you,” Amy insisted, and a few minutes later I stepped out into the sun in my cowboy attire.
WE RODE quite a bit that day. First on a trail, where we explored much of the ranch. Then, after a hamburger and hot dog lunch, we actually learned to herd cattle. Darla and Vincent needed about two-hundred head moved from one end of the ranch to the other. It was a little scary at first, what with those horns. I’d never been around cows in real life, except at a state fair when I was a kid visiting my grandmother, and they’d been in pens. But Cole and the other wranglers certainly knew what they were doing—and they were doing most of the work—and soon had me a little more comfortable around the large animals.
“Keep behind and off to the side,” Cole instructed. “Just sorta pressure them at their hips. You hardly need touch them. They’ll go, believe me.”
Suddenly I was having fun “working” the ranch. I looked around me, surrounded by cattle and horses and riders, and felt a little thrill zip through me. It was like I was living some old classic Western movie. The riders were calling out, the sun was beating down, the dust was in the air. For a while, I let myself pretend I really was a cowboy, living a hundred years ago on a long cattle train.
What must that have been like? I wondered. It could only have been something vaguely like this. They had months on the trail with only the crudest tents for shelter against the elements. Storms, the heat, the cold, the filth. Beans for nearly every meal. I had huge dinners in a dining hall, a cabin to myself, a microwave, a shower, a hot tub—and oh, was that hot tub starting to call my name. My ass was hurting from the hours in the saddle, and as wonderful as Mystic was, I was getting tired.
I found it a tremendous relief when we were finally done and heading back to the stables. How had the real cowboys in those long ago days stood it? It even hurt to climb down.
I stretched, put my hands on my lower back, and felt it pop. I was going to sleep well tonight. Note to self: no coffee tonight.
Unless Cole was around with his flask and could add some of his whiskey.
“Anyone interested in some volleyball?” Cole called out as we put our tack away.
“Hell no,” I moaned. “Count me out.”
“What’s wrong, Big Daddy?” Cole asked and came up behind me. “You tired? I know a big man like you isn’t tired.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “And I’m going to jump in that hot tub and relax before dinner.”
“Suit yourself,” Cole replied. “We’re gonna have fun!”
“Have at it,” I said, heading for my golf cart. I’d been almost embarrassed by it at first, but now I was grateful for…. Then I remembered. The little electric cart was back at the cabin. Cole had brought Mystic by this morning, and I’d ridden her up, not the cart.
Shit, I thought with a groan and made my way slowly back home.
THE HOT tub was beyond wonderful. It didn’t take a lot to figure out how to get the jets going, and soon I was relaxing in the steaming, churning water. I couldn’t get over how quickly the massaging effect made my muscles feel so much better. Even though the roof stuck out over it to keep the weather off, if I sat at one end and lay back, I could look up into the robin’s-egg-blue sky. It was so pretty and peaceful. Above a lone bird—hawk? Eagle? I didn’t know—floated above me, riding the air currents. I let my body float to the water’s surface and imagined how it felt to be that bird. Anything like this?
Free! No worries. No cares about what anyone else thought of it.
My toes curled, and I flexed them. It felt good. Hobbit feet, indeed! Of course, even the knuckles of my toes had hair. Geez, I did have hobbit feet.
Cole likes them.
While looking at the objects of Cole’s attention, I noticed my bright orange trunks and laughed. They were ridiculous. They went to nearly my knees. What happened to smaller trunks? Whose idea were they anyway? Awful! Just awful. In college my trunks had barely covered my butt. Emily had loved them. Why did men practically wear slacks in the pool these days? Were they hiding?
Like you’re hiding?
Take them off.
Be free.
You can get nekkid.
No one will see.
I had to wrestle with the idea. I’d never been naked outside in my life. Not once. Not even in the open-sky locker rooms lining the beaches on that Orlando vacation Em and I had once taken. I’d been horrified. Which Em had found hilarious.
“Who are you afraid will see you?” she’d asked. “Helicopter pilots?”
But now Cole’s suggestion was in my mind, and it would not let go. Foolishly, I looked around me—there was a fence, so who was going to see me if someone wandered by?
Do it! Don’t be a chickenshit. Do it. Damn. With a jolt of fear and excitement, I stood and climbed out of my practically fluorescent trunks. For a second, I held them in front of me, hiding my privacy. Then—slowly—I forced myself to drop my hands to my sides.
I was naked.
Outside.
My penis, my ass, totally and for the first time ever exposed to the world. A very small part of it. A fenced-in section of it. But exposed nevertheless.
I grinned.
It felt good, like so much else around this place.
I wanted to shout. I wanted to let out a Tarzan yell and beat on my chest and wag my not-so-privates at the sky. Why not? Maybe not yell. I didn’t want anyone to come running.
But the rest?
I laid the trunks aside and raised my arms above me, threw back my head, and wiggled my sore ass. The bubbling water was right at the level to tickle my balls, and I laughed aloud.
It did.
It felt good to be naked.
To my surprise, I felt my penis stir, and when I looked, it gave a jump. Goodness! The watching seemed to urge it on, and my cock began to rise—as if in imitation of my arms to the sky.
I laughed again and, with a final surge, my cock rose to complete erection. Damn! When did just getting a hard-on feel so good? I hadn’t even touched myself.
Yet.
When was the last time I even had an orgasm? A week? No. A month? I couldn’t even remember. I’d always preferred the real thing to masturbation. The latter needed me to conjure images and there lay dragons.
I sat down.
Right into a jet that was just right—not too gentle, not too rough—to stimulate my arousal to a moan-inducing degree.
I shifted back a bit, and another gentle jet was hitting me in the tailbone, and that felt good too. The tailbone? I hadn’t even known it was sore. I cocked my hips a tad more and the—Oh!—my eyes went wide. The water was hitting me someplace a couple of inches lower and even more private than my erection and—oh, oh, oh!—my eyes rolled up with a will of their own.
Damn! Who knew that could feel so good? The erotic massage was so intense. Without realizing what I was doing, I began to rock back and forth, back and forth, letting those two jets play with my straining cock and my most private place.
Goosebumps raced up my arms and across my shoulders. Could I come this way? Without touching myself?
Cole was right. Getting in a hot tub “nekkid” was better. Was this what he meant? Of course it was… or something like it. Like maybe taking him up on his invitation to join me? What would he be doing to me if he were here right now? Would he be touching me? My cock? My other place? Would he want to suck me? Cole’s beautiful, sexy face filled my mind—those incredible eyes, that smile, that mouth. Unbidden, I found myself picturing him sucking me.
Fuck!
I began to moan uncontrollably, unmindful of the noise I was making—not caring. Yes, I could come this way! And I was going to. I was getting closer. Closer. Closer.
“Mr. Baxter?”
I froze, my brain slamming into a brick wall.
There was a knock on the fence. “Mr. Baxter?”
Fuck! It was Cole.
“I… I….” I tried to speak but couldn’t. I’d been so close to orgasm. My testicles were shouting for release. A few more rocks against the jets would have been all it would have taken.
There was a click, and I saw the latch of the gate open—was there some kind of string to pull on the other side? Dammit!
The gate opened, and Cole was standing there.
“You okay, Mr. Baxter?”
“I… I….” I nodded. “Yes.” That last word sounded as if I’d sucked on helium. I cleared my throat and laid my arms along the back of the hot tub, trying to look casual.
“I brought you some of that cream,” he said, holding out a yogurt container. “It has all kinds of herbs in it—aloe, echinacea, lavender, calendula, comfrey—all mixed up in whipped vitamin E. Just don’t forget and eat it.”
“Herbs grown at Black Bear?” My voice was now a little bit more normal.
“Some of ’em!” Cole said proudly. “Also, I wanted to let you know they’re getting ready to put the steaks on the grill for dinner. And I guarantee you they’ll be the best steaks you’ve ever had in your life!”
“Dinner?” My voice was practically back to itself. Was it dinnertime already?
Cole nodded. “Cook let me know they were ready a little early, and we’re going to go ahead and start in about twenty minutes or so, all right?”
“Sure,” I said, and just exactly then the jets stopped.
Seconds later—who knew it would happen so quickly?—the foam was gone.
And that fast, Cole looked down.
To his credit, he blushed.
He turned away. “Ah…. Look. I’ll leave the cream. Meet you back at the dining hall? You… finish up whatever you were doing and…. Later!”
And quick as a flash, out the gate he went.
Finish? What did he mean by…?
Finish!
Finish masturbating? The embarrassment was excruciating.
Finish by jerking off? How could I?
But how could I not? Even humiliation had done nothing to wilt my throbbing hard-on. I’d been too close to orgasm, and my balls were aching, crying out in need. I had to finish.
I grabbed myself, jacking, and immediately wondered if I could finish. My balls wanted it, but my mind had gone somewhere where only the most embarrassed of thoughts could go.
How could Cole have looked at my….
Because he’s gay, you idiot. Wouldn’t you have looked if there had been a woman in the hot tub?
I knew the answer.
No.
The answer was no.
I wouldn’t have looked. I would have averted my eyes. And no need to pretend it was because I was a gentleman. I wouldn’t have wanted to see. I’d rarely looked at Em down there.
That shame made me see orgasm really would be impossible.
Unless….
Shit!
I closed my eyes, and Cole instantly filled my mind once more. Those eyes. Those lips. I imagined him taking me in his mouth, what it would feel like, what it would look like….
And seconds later, an orgasm, exquisitely pleasurable and almost painful, hit me so hard and fast I nearly shouted. When I came down from the wave of conflicting sensations, there was only one thought in my foggy brain.
How could this be happening? So fast? A lifetime of discipline wiped away like chalk from a blackboard. Cole’s mere existence had opened feelings and thoughts like water being released from the floodgates.
What was I going to do?