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The Farmer & Dale

By: dlmercer



Dale Vaden stepped out the front door, onto the porch. The overhanging roof shaded him from the gentle rays of the afternoon sun. It was a beautiful, spring day. The temperatures had been hovering in the mid-sixties for the past week. He stretched his back, groaning as his spine popped and realigned. Clearing a house of 40 years accumulation of living was not easy.

He walked down the three concrete steps at the place where porch and house joined. Stepping to the left, he seated himself on the edge of the porch. He tilted his face to the sun, reveling in the soft heat and light that bathed his skin, and turned the sightless vision behind his closed lids, a rich, radiant red. A lazy breeze touched him now and then. It sent a shiver through him, reminding him of a lover's caress, a lover who was gone after four years. Four years in which Dale had surrendered his heart and believed he'd found his life's partner. How could he have known that Tony didn't feel the same?

Dale's eyes opened as thoughts of Tony flooded his mind, "Ah shit." he whispered. 

He stared across the rolling, stubbled fields that surrounded his three acres of land, in the midst of Illinois farm country. Tony was exactly what he didn't want to think about. Tony, with his tall, dark, Italian good looks. His glossy black hair, tremendously sexy, brown eyes, and his larger than life presence. It was infectious, the way he drew every eye in the room with his open, easy attitude and that booming laugh that invited everyone to join in his amusement.

Head shaking, he attempted to deny the wrenching sense of loss and the dark abyss that threatened to open at his feet when thoughts of Tony crept in. Tony and David. Even after two years, two years in which he'd come to realize that Tony really wasn't the man he'd thought him to be, it still hurt. It still hurt to think about David, his own brother, being instrumental in the breakup that tore the heart from him, and left him feeling empty and alone. Feeling not only empty and alone, but more lost than he'd ever felt in his life.

He rubbed a hand across his face, sighing in resignation. A frown crinkled his brow as he admonished himself. It did no good to dwell on the past, at least as far as he and Tony were concerned. He needed to keep reminding himself that this was for the best, that Tony had never truly made him happy. Tony was too much, 'out there.' He was always busy running around, socializing, frittering away his time and money. Sure, he made a good living and worked hard, but he spent it almost as fast as he earned it. His attitude sometimes made Dale nervous.

Responsible, staid Dale, who liked to spend the occasional weekend at home instead of running all over creation. Who liked knowing there was a nest egg in the bank, who paid his bills on time and made his deadlines with unerring accuracy. 

It was his and Tony's biggest bone of contention. When he was denied his way, Tony pouted with all the aplomb of a four year old. His idea of fun was spending the weekends in endless rounds of shopping, mall, and bar hopping. Dale had generally given in and gone along, until he began to feel resentful and put upon. The years of separation had shown him clearly that their relationship had been headed for trouble. Something that he'd been unable to admit while blinded by his love and need for Tony's companionship. Blinded by the picture he'd built in his mind, instead of seeing the reality of the situation.

Everything considered, Dale knew, if he was honest with himself, his biggest loss was his relationship with his brother. It had been such a shock when David and Tony had come to him, announcing that they wanted to be together. Dale had had a feeling that Tony was drifting away, it just never occurred to him that the someone he was drifting towards, was David. It was a double betrayal, one that had rocked him to his very foundations. 

He missed his brother. That was why he struggled so hard to be honest with himself, to lay to rest the demons that tormented him. David had made several attempts to reconcile, but Dale had not been ready to accept his overtures. The pain was too fresh and too raw. His thoughts had been disorganized and jumbled. The ability to think clearly, without the emotional baggage clouding his thought processes, had been impossible. And so he held on to his hurt, nursing it, until the fog had lifted and he began to see all the components involved in the breakup. He began to see that Tony and David had not wanted to hurt him. His brother wasn't a heartless betrayer, he was a man in love.

A wry smile tilted his lips. Now David contended with the never ending running and Tony's spend-thrift ways. And yet, from what he heard from mutual friends, David was successfully taming Tony's wild side. Dale wasn't surprised. David had a way about him, a stubborn core of strength, that when he brought it to bear on a person, he usually managed to bend the unsuspecting victim to his way of thinking. It was a quality Dale lacked, one he admired and had been the target of many times as they grew up. 

A full fledged smile lit his face as he thought of David. Dale realized, barring any reservations David might have, and he seemed to have none, that he was nearing the point of being ready to resume a relationship with his brother. A phone call first, he decided. He wasn't quite ready to see the reality of David and Tony together in domestic bliss, but a phone call would be a good start. 

That resolved, Dale felt the tension that pulled at his shoulders, ease. Now all I need is a truck to haul all this stuff to Goodwill, a dumpster for the rest and a good man to give me a massage when I get all this hauling done, he thought to himself.

The dull drone of a tractor broke his train of thought. As though on cue, it came into view on the road in front of the house. Seated behind the wheel was a broad-shouldered man in dusty jeans, tee shirt, and work boots. He wore sunglasses, and had a baseball cap perched on his head. Dale couldn't make out his features or his age very well, though from his general build and posture, he seemed young. As he watched, the man turned his head, spotting him on the porch. The farmer lifted an arm and waved a friendly greeting, which Dale returned. He continued to the far edge of the field which was bordered by a hedge row. He turned the tractor in and began making rounds. The tractor hauled some kind of tank set up, which Dale assumed contained fertilizer or weed control of some kind. 

He watched the farmer make a few rounds, then sighed and rose, determined to continue until the house was cleared. His grandmother had accumulated a lot of things over the years. A few things of value, like the oak library table, barrister bookcase and the two amazingly comfortable, heavy oak arm chairs with deep padded seats that resided in her bedroom. She also had an extensive set of Franciscan Ware dishes in a poppy pattern, that was displayed in a beautiful mahogany china cupboard. They were actually quite cheery looking with their raised yellow flowers and green leaves, Dale liked them. But for the most part, it was the ordinary assemblage of things one picks up as one goes through life.

Their grandmother had left the house equally to Dale and David. Dale had been seized by the notion of making a change, deciding to move, hoping the distance between himself, Tony and David would help. True it was only a few hundred miles, but Dale had found himself relaxing after the move. He'd been unaware of the tension his body was generating at thoughts of meeting Tony or David in the public places the three of them frequented. Even simple things like grocery shopping had left him with a headache. 

He'd had their lawyer contact his brother about buying his half of the property, to which David had been more than agreeable. David had never been fond of vegetating in the country, perhaps another reason that he and Tony got on so well. 

Dale had gratefully cleared his condo of anything unwanted, packed what he needed, arranged to have the rest of it shipped and got out of Dodge. As a writer, he was able to locate anywhere he pleased. Suddenly he was aware of the fact that he was very pleased. He loved the house. The grounds and gardens needed help and he had lots to keep him busy. He began to whistle a little off-key ditty as he returned to boxing up and clearing out the contents of the house.

 * * *

Rick Hunter made yet another round on the tractor. The job was rote, one he'd done so many times over the years it was automatic. He'd learned farming from his father and his grandfather, it was something that ran in the Hunter men's veins, mingling with their blood. Normally, he could disconnect from everything, concentrate on the job, leaving his thoughts, however troubling, behind. Not today. Today, they insisted on jabbing at him with pitchfork-like tongs that had his head throbbing.

Rick was 27. It was time and past for him to be married and having a family, or so his parents told him. Like they didn't have enough grandchildren already. Seven, to be precise, three from his brother, Paul, and his wife, three from his sister, Sharon, and her husband, and one from his other sister, Karen, and her husband. You'd think they'd be satisfied with that, but no. Just this morning he'd gotten a call from his mom, hinting around about that nice girl, Vicky Williams, who attended their church.

Rick knew Vicky. Vicky liked to hang out at Smiley's, on the weekends with her friends. Once in a while she picked up a guy and took him home. Rick had been one of those guys. Vicky was a nice girl, and a decent lay, but Rick wasn't looking to marry her. Rick wasn't looking to marry any woman. Which was exactly the problem.

Over the years, he'd had more than his share of women. At 6'2", with rich, dark, honey-blonde hair, blue-green eyes and features of face and body that a modeling agency would drool over, Rick garnered more than a few looks. Looks that came not only from women, but from men as well. Rick was having a harder and harder time not returning those looks. Not the ones from the women, but those from the men. 

From the time he was an adolescent, he'd been aware of an attraction for both sexes. It became more than apparent however, that the majority of the population wasn't particularly sympathetic to same sex couples. With that in mind, Rick had limited himself to dating women only, until he turned 20.

He'd gone into Springfield, with some friends for a night of bars and strip joints. While searching for an elusive club, they'd gotten lost. Rick stopped at a pay phone that luckily had a phone book, he planned to call the club and ask for directions. Paging through the book, he came across a flyer that had been stuck between the pages. Stud's, it advertised, a club that featured an all male revue, a club for men only. Rick had carefully folded the flyer and stuck it in his pocket. He made the call, he and his friends found the club they'd been searching for, and spent the rest of the evening ogling mostly naked women, while sucking down beer after beer.

Rick had been distracted. As the designated driver he had to stay sober, and though he enjoyed watching the women, thoughts of an all male revue kept creeping into his consciousness. What would it be like to watch some sexy stud dance and strip down until he was wearing next to nothing or nothing at all? The thought had Rick hard as a rock. Fortunately, under the circumstances, such was to be expected. He didn't have to make excuses for sprouting a hardon, when every other man in the room was in a similar condition. On his return home, Rick had beat off to thoughts of male strippers gyrating their hot bodies for his pleasure.

In the days that followed, thoughts of spending an evening at Stud's, became an obsession. Three weeks later he made the trip into Springfield, found the club and walked into testosterone heaven. It was better than he'd imagined. Wall to wall men, not a woman in sight. And the smell. Heated male flesh, musky and distinctive, not a flowery scent in the crowd. Rick felt his cock firming up from the smell alone. 

He made his way to the bar and ordered a beer, turning to watch the couples on the dance floor. Trying not to let his inexperience show, he ran the gamut of emotions from amazement to jealousy that he wasn't on the floor dancing. Something that was soon remedied.

From the time he'd walked in the door he'd been under scrutiny. It wasn't long before he was approached and asked to dance. Feeling awkward but determined Rick accepted, and soon found himself with partner after partner. He enjoyed the dancing, heated bodies moving to a pulsing rhythm as they swayed and sometimes ground against each other. He fielded some very graphic offers, not yet finding anyone that really grabbed his attention. Until Carl. 

Carl slid between him and his current partner, taking control of the dance. Rick found himself staring into a pair of mesmerizing brown eyes as, big, masculine hands closed on his hips and pulled him close to a thick throbbing bulge. His own cock responded. Without a word Carl took his hand and led him to a part of the club he'd yet to see.

In the back of the club, several dimly lit rooms, joined by open arched doorways, held club patrons who had things other than dancing or drinking on their minds. Rick saw everything from hand jobs to full out orgies taking place. No one seemed to mind the possibility that they could be watched. Most of the couples or groups concentrated on only that which they were part of. 

Carl pulled Rick into a deserted corner and pushed him against the wall. Rick groaned as Carl worked open the buttons on his 501's. Carl slid to his knees and without hesitation took Rick's thick, seven inch cock into his mouth, sucking and laving as each inch disappeared between his full, wet lips. Rick swore and grasped Carl's head, his hands encouraging each bob of Carl's mouth over his throbbing length. He was in a different world, no woman had ever made him feel close to what he was feeling now.

He protested when Carl pulled away, leaving his cock, wet, exposed and aching for relief. Carl turned to face the wall, opening his own jeans and lowering them. He looked over his shoulder at Rick.

"What are you waiting for, stud, fuck me."

Rick was non-plussed for the moment. Even as the sight of that tight, muscular ass made him want to dive right in, he felt he owed Carl the truth.

"Look, man, I've never done this before." his face flamed as the words left his mouth. He was grateful that the light was so dim.

"You ever been with a woman?" Carl asked.

Rick nodded.

"Same principal, just a different hole. I want your cock up my ass. You gotta a condom?" 

Rick again nodded, pulling the condom from his back pocket. Carl turned around and took it from him, giving Rick the chance to study his endowments. Carl wasn't quite as long, maybe six inches, a very nice, very full, very hard, six inches. Rick reached out and grasped Carl's cock, just as Carl grabbed his. Rick pumped Carl slowly, causing him to throw back his head and moan. 

After a moment Carl stepped back, "Man, you better stop before I blow."

He moved forward again and rolled the condom down Rick's turgid length. He turned again to face the wall.

"Use some spit and a couple of fingers to open me up. It won't take much, I'm no cherry."

Rick obeyed and soon had Carl moaning as he scissored two fingers, then three into his hot, tight, pucker.

"Now, fuck me, man, now."

Taking himself in hand, Rick guided his cock to that once tiny hole that was now open and ready for him. He smeared his condom covered dick with saliva and made contact, pushing forward until he penetrated the tight anal ring and slid slowly inside a tight, velvet-lined furnace. With his hands at Carl's hips he began a slow, shallow, rhythmic thrusting that gradually increased in pace and depth. The sweat that had broken out on both men began to slide down their bodies in lazy rivulets. Spicy musk inundated their nostrils, as body odor mingled with the primal scent of sex.

Carl was grunting, pushing back into each thrust, chanting, "Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah."

Rick labored in a fog of pleasure, gasping for each breath. His hips pounded against Carl, his one objective to bury his cock, again and again, in the volcanic heat that gripped him, until finally, he erupted. His rushing fluids filled the condom as he ground deep into Carl's chute, instinct pushing him to bury his seed deep, despite the fact that it was trapped in latex, and there was no fertile field awaiting it in any case.

Dimly, Rick was aware of Carl's guttural cry as he unloaded against the wall, his hot spunk sliding down to puddle on the floor. Rick disengaged and removed the condom, dropping it into the puddle. 

Both men adjusted their clothes. Carl grinned at Rick, "For an amateur, you're a hell of a top. You coming back any time soon?"

Rick returned the grin, "I'll probably be around."

Carl nodded, "Any time, stud, any time."

They made their way back to the front of the club. Rick stopped in the bathroom to use the facilities and wash up. Once back out on the floor, he quickly tired and decided to call it a night. One hell of a night. The first of many that led him to his current dilemma. 

Although he'd known for years he was bi, he was just now admitting to himself that he preferred men. So where did that leave him with his family? How was he going to break the news to his parents not to expect any grandchildren from him? Rick wasn't at all sure he could face up to it. He had one more problem as well. Those nameless fucks in the city were getting old. He did want to settle down, if only he could find the right guy. A fleeting image sparked in his consciousness. The guy on the porch, the new neighbor, old Mrs. Vaden's grandson. 

As he'd passed by, he'd gotten the fleeting impression of dark reddish brown hair and a lean, athletic body dressed in faded jeans and a deep green tee shirt. Only a glimpse really, and yet apparently his sub-conscious liked what it saw. Rick glanced over at the house as he made another round in the field. He could see a pile of boxes on the front porch, but the owner was apparently inside. Curiosity niggled, and he resolved to find the time to check out the new neighbor.

 * * *

"This is pitiful." Dale muttered. 

He was outside, at the back of the property, scrutinizing a small grove of poplar trees. Most were dead, others only partially alive, and half a dozen had been blown down or had just plain fallen over, weakened by rot. The grove wasn't very large, twenty five, thirty trees at most. He was resolved to see it pulled down. Dale had visions of oak or maple trees replacing the poplars. He liked the idea of planting trees that would stand long after he was gone. 

After spending the last few days clearing everything from the house except the few pieces of furniture and other things he'd decided to keep, Dale decided to amble around the property and take a few mental notes about what he wanted to see accomplished outside. The poplar grove became his number one objective.

As he walked around, he was aware of the fact that the farmer was again in the field that surrounded his acreage. He stood contemplating the ravaged trees until the increasing noise from an approaching tractor pulled him from his reverie. From his shaded vantage, he could clearly see the man riding the tractor. As before, he was dressed in a tee shirt, jeans, work boots and baseball cap. His hands were covered by leather gloves, his eyes shaded by the dark lenses of his sun glasses.

He drove the tractor to the edge of the field, shutting it off. Blessed silence returned. Dale watched as the farmer dismounted the tractor with easy grace, the well defined muscles of his thighs bunching with the effort. Just as he remembered from several days ago, the man was broad-shouldered, muscular, his upper body shown to a distinct advantage by the clinging fabric of his tee. His arms were solid, with a light covering of soft hair that shone golden under the sun. He removed his gloves, slapping them down on the seat of the tractor and approached.


The Farmer & Dale Ch. 02



The next day arrived bright and sunny. Dale gazed out the window at the perfect weather as he sipped his morning cup of coffee. He felt groggy. He'd slept fitfully, tossing and turning, worrying and obsessing about what would happen today. Generally driving himself insane, at 2 a.m., he'd been ready to screech. He'd gotten up, turned the shower on, as hot as he could stand and stepped in, letting the water pour over him. The steamy heat relaxed him, as had the long, slow, jack off session. Knees weak with the powerful release, totally warm and relaxed, he'd wobbled back to bed and crashed, sleeping soundly until almost seven.

He yawned again, and took another sip of coffee. His gaze wandered randomly over the yard. He was grateful there would be no work today. He'd never have heard the end of it if Rick had arrived to find him still in bed. 

The thought of Rick and bed, in the same sentence, caused a jittery tremor in his mid-section. Determined to put those thoughts out of his head for a time, Dale fixed himself some breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, and planted himself at his desk in front of his laptop. His current manuscript had been neglected for almost two weeks, a situation he was about to remedy.

                      *           *           *

Rick had spent a similarly restless evening. After leaving Dale in the parking lot at Smiley's, he knew he was committed. Though he'd tried to hide it, Rick had seen the increasing sadness in Dale's eyes last night. He was sure that he was the cause. He'd been careful to make no overtures toward Dale, still uncertain of what he wanted to do. Last night at Smiley's had clearly shown him his path. As he'd danced with one woman after another, his eyes had continually looked to Dale. 

It was Dale he wanted in his arms. He shuddered, instantly aroused at the thought. Dancing with Dale, their arms wrapped around each other, bodies locked together as they swayed to some slow, smokey melody? It was enough to put a saint on the bone. And Rick was no saint by any means. 

He lay in bed, stroking his rigid cock with slow, easy movements. It was the second time since he'd hit the sack. Dale invaded his dreams, leaving him hard, aching. When Dale had made his excuses and rose to leave, Rick's desire to stay left with him. He'd quickly made his own excuses and caught up to Dale. Almost panicked, he had to confirm their plans for the following day. His relief had been monumental when Dale agreed. 

In the parking lot, Dale had rallied enough to tease him about walking him to his car. Rick had automatically fired back that remark about a juicy piece of meat. His comment, though teasing and earthy, was as close a hint as he could come up with. He hadn't bothered to hide the desire in his eyes. Dale's look of startled uncertainty had struck a chord deep inside. He wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms right then and there. He'd settled for those gentle words of comfort, the soft caress, that telling endearment. 

Rick groaned, his strokes increasing in frequency until he released, semen flooding his abdomen. After resting a moment, he rose and walked on unsteady legs to the bathroom. Grabbing a wash cloth, he held it under the faucet, dampening it with warm water. As he cleaned up, he stared at himself in the medicine cabinet mirror.

Committed. Yes, he was committed. He intended to begin by revealing his feelings to Dale. Difficult as that might be, it was bound to be the easy part. It was the reaction of his family and friends that he dreaded, but his feelings could no longer be denied. He had no intention of losing Dale if, God willing, Dale would have him. Rick felt he was irrevocably ready.

                      *           *           *

The day moved on apace. Dale lost himself for a time in his work and felt better for it. He called a halt, mid-afternoon, had a quick snack, then went to work. He pulled the grill from the garage to the back door, cleaned it up, and built his pyramid of charcoal in the center of the bed. Leaving it, he returned to the kitchen and began preparing various dishes for their meal. Macaroni and cheese, his mother's killer recipe, baked beans, pasta salad and a plate of mixed, raw veggies for dipping. There was beer chilling in the fridge along with a tall pitcher of iced tea, sweetened with sugar and flavored with lemon, a few slices of which floated in the refreshing, amber brew.

He'd just glanced at the clock, noting it was exactly five, when he heard Rick's truck pull into the drive. Dale's nerves tingled, his stomach cartwheeling as he watched this most beautiful of men slide gracefully from his vehicle. Dale closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This leap into the unknown was frightening, yet inevitable. There was no going back, only forward, knowing somehow, someway, it was going to be all right. Calmer, he was able to greet Rick with a warm, casual smile.

Rick walked in with his usual familiarity, grin in place. "I see the grill's ready to go. I brought the steaks, and...," with a flourish he set a covered dish on the table, carefully removing the top, "Mom baked us a pie. Hope you like lemon meringue." 

"You mean you aren't going to try to convince me you baked this yourself?" Dale teased.

"I told you I can't cook. My abilities run in other directions." 

"Such as?"

"I'll show you later." Rick intoned softly.

His words caused a clenching pinch in Dale's middle that slid straight to his cock. He grabbed some matches and made a hasty retreat, "I'd better light the charcoal."

Rick smiled at Dale's obvious nervousness. He was set on a course of seduction, Dale's reaction was encouraging. He followed Dale out the back door. It was time to turn up the heat. 

By the time they sat down to eat, Dale was as nervous as a cat in a rocking chair factory. Rick had trailed him constantly. His nearness kept Dale wound tight, waiting for some move, some touch that never came. At one point, in the kitchen, as he'd tossed dressing into the salad, Rick had been so close, Dale felt the warmth of his body radiate outward, seeping into his own over-heated skin. Goose bumps chased up and down his arms, his nerveless fingers had fumbled with the utensils he used, until he managed to lose his grip and toss one halfway across the room. 

Rick had chuckled and retrieved the offending utensil. He took it to the sink, and using a dab of dish soap, gave it a quick wash and rinse. He handed it back to Dale, his eyes soft, the blue-greenwarm, tranquil.

"Calm down, babe, it'll be alright, I promise." he soothed.

Dale turned back to the salad swallowing hard, his eyes tearing. He nodded silently, relieved when Rick excused himself to use the bathroom. If he doesn't touch me soon, I'm going to have a heart attack, Dale swore silently.

Rick returned, helping to set the table. They served themselves buffet style from the dishes that lined the counter and rested on the stove. Rick started with a fork full of mac and cheese, his eyes closing in sheer appreciation at the delectable flavor. Opening them, he found Dale watching him expectantly.

"This is great, Dale. Tons better than that stuff out the box."

Dale explained about it being his mom's recipe. They dug in, conversation sporadic and easy between mouthfuls. Dale felt himself relaxing at the normality of it all. He could see this scenario taking place on a regular basis, knowing he wouldn't mind cooking for such an appreciative recipient. Not to mention of course, that as long as it was Rick, he wouldn't mind in any case, compliments or not.

Both men put away a good meal. Afterward, they attended to the cleanup, Rick insisting on doing the lion's share, as Dale had taken care of the dinner preparations. Dale fixed numerous containers for Rick to take home, stating quite honestly that there was too much for him to finish alone.

Dishes done, food put away and everything back in shape, they decided to leave the pie for later. The sun was setting as they headed outside. They grabbed beers, the bag of marshmallows and a couple of lawn chairs, hauling them out to the brush pile. Once there, they set up their chairs near a sturdy section of wood fence that marched a short way from the corner of the barn. Dale's grandmother had planted clematis vines there, which were slowly winding their way up the fence, the buds still forming. Dale and Rick settled in, waiting for the approaching darkness to deepen. 

For the most part they sat quietly, their conversation low and desultory. There was something infinitely soothing about watching a day come to an end. The birds had all made for their roosts, a few errant chirps piping out here and there. Crickets and frogs began to sing. Small moths fluttered low to the ground, landing first here, than there, as they sought mates. Every now and then, the distinctive buzz of an early June bug could be heard. The big outdoor light that topped the electric pole in the backyard, flickered to life, its blue/white light attracting a cloud of insects that would swirl, hover, dive and court its pearly glow until morning. 

Sheltered from its light by the silent bulk of the barn, Dale and Rick sat in the dark, nursing their beers, until Rick stood.

"I think it's time to light this fire." he said softly. His words conveyed a distinct duality, a subtle, double meaning that what not lost on Dale. His voice was hushed, as though reluctant to interrupt nature's night song.

Taking up the matches and newspaper that Dale supplied, he wound the paper into several long twists placing them here and there among the branches. He selected two long, sturdy ones for their marshmallows, placing them aside by his chair. Returning to the brush pile, he struck a match and lit first one, then another, of the twisted paper torches. The brush caught, smoking, crackling. The flames at first hesitant, took hold, then boldly, gleefully, dug in, reaching for the sky.

Dale's breath caught in his throat. Not only was the fire impressive, but the man revealed in its glow was magnificent. Rick was outlined, highlighted, gilded golden like some pagan god by the fire's leaping light. His hair shone, shimmering, spun silk. Dale felt himself a lowly supplicant, as he rose from his chair and approached the burning altar. 

Rick turned to watch Dale's approach, his own breath at first hitching, then rushing to fill his lungs. Dale too was gilded by the flames. His dark, reddish, brown hair shimmered in the flickering light, the red highlights winking like fire opals. His body seemed to float, flow like approaching lava. Rick felt the heat of the fire at his back. It paled in comparison to the inferno that approached.

He took a few steps forward, meeting Dale, staring into his wide green eyes. The flame was reflected there, dancing in those calm pools of mossy green. Rick reached out, his arms enclosing Dale, pulling him close.

"I have to." he whispered. His mouth sealed over Dale's.

The fire burned merrily, mindlessly ignorant of the conflagration, but a few feet away, that built and threatened to put it to shame.

Dale put everything into their kiss. He felt himself drown and was resuscitated, awakened by the flavors, scent and heat of the man in his arms, by the clever tongue that languorously explored his mouth and the thick demanding bulge that undulated so sensuously, insistently against his own.

Rick drew back, his retreat pulling a whimper of protest from Dale. He stared at the beautiful face just inches from his own. Dale's eyes opened, glazed, stunned, his lips swollen from the fierce passion of their kiss. Rick's cock spiked, he grunted with the exquisite pain of it.

"Say yes, babe. Dale, say yes." he pleaded, his voice a rough, husky rasp that sent shivers down Dale's spine.

Without hesitation Dale whispered, "Yes."

Rick groaned and took his mouth again. His hands began moving over Dale in an age old pattern that was made new with each pair of lovers it guided. Exploring, roving, Rick's hands paused at the twin mounds of taut flesh encased in rough, tactile denim. Fingers curled in, squeezing, kneading, pulling Dale's hips tight against his own. Rick ground himself almost feverishly against his new lover. The pressure was an excruciating tease, hot and pleasurable, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

One hand relinquished its bounty, searching for new treasures. It glided over Dale's hip and around. Rick found the buttons of Dale's jeans, slowly releasing each one. Dale's hips moved with the rhythm of the fingers that squeezed his ass. Each forward motion brought him firmly against Rick's other hand. The fingers brushing against his erection sent small electric shots down his spine which culminated into one wrenching jolt as Rick's hands simultaneously released to slide instantly into his jeans, pushing them down. While one resumed its place on his ass, holding him steady, the other encircling his raging hot, silky smooth erection. Dale cried out as Rick began to lightly stroke his cock.

Rick murmured softly, his cheek pressed to Dale's, his warm breath feathering over his ear, "I know baby, I know. It's ok. It's all right. Ah God, you feel good, so good."

Dale's breath panted from his mouth, his heart pounded as Rick slowly worked him. Everything disappeared, save the man who held him, touched him.

Dale found himself turned, draped over the sturdy wood fence near their chairs. His fingers dug into the wood when he felt Rick lower his jeans. Rick knelt behind him. Dale felt his fingers untying his shoe laces.

"Take them off, sweetheart." Rick ordered.

Dale obeyed, toeing off his loosened shoes. He was beyond objecting to anything. Rick divested him of his jeans and briefs, leaving him bare-assed and exposed. He felt the heat of Rick's breath, a moment before his tongue laved one firm cheek.. Rick moved over his ass, licking, kissing, lightly biting, until impatient to claim the prize, he spread Dale's cheeks. He gazed at the soft, tender, brownish-pink rosebud with lustful wonder. Here was the physical treasure. Here was the place that would allow their bodies to become one.

Rick breathed deeply, inhaling the erotic spice of his lover. His tongue gently touched, slowly swirled over that sweet pucker, causing it to clench. A few moments of concentrated effort saw it relax, as it welcomed the slick wet heat of his burrowing tongue. 

Dale's moans drove Rick on, as each one became tinged with an increasing degree of desperation. Rick rose, quickly unfastening his own jeans, releasing his demanding cock. He draped his body lightly over Dale's. Moistening his fingers, he found Dale's quivering hole and slid one, slowly inside. Dale bucked under him. Rick held him steady. 

His mouth again found Dale's ear. "Is this mine?" he questioned, his finger sliding slowly in and out. His teeth found Dale's earlobe, lightly biting, as he eased Dale open, expertly finding his prostate.

"Yes!" Dale ground out, shivering with increasing need.

A second finger joined the first, causing Dale to groan and push back into Rick.

Releasing Dale's ear he moved to the other, his stubbled cheek against Dale's, "Is it still mine, baby?" Fastening his teeth to Dale's lobe, he sucked and nibbled.

"Rick! Yes." Dale gasped as the taut ring of muscle loosened under Rick's relentless strokes.

Moments later a third finger was introduced. Dale whimpered as pleasure and pain mingled. He felt some slick substance smeared at his burning hole which made the penetration easier. He fought to relax, eyes closed as he panted.

Worried by Dale's whimper, Rick had spread precum from his leaking cock over his tightly coned fingers, working them slowly into Dale's pucker. He sighed with relief as he felt Dale relax. With slow and easy strokes he opened his lover, readying him for their joining. Dale was again moaning his pleasure, pushing back into each inward stroke.

He leaned forward, and spoke two words in Dale's ear, "Tell me."

"Yours," Dale groaned, "yours, yours, yours."

"That's right baby. Mine. I'm going to take what's mine. Now."

Withdrawing his fingers, Rick quickly sheathed himself with one of the condoms he'd brought, just for this occasion. His cock resembled nothing so much as a steel spike waiting to be driven into its berth. His only desire was to drive into Dale's soft, welcoming sheath. Just as the spike's intended berth would give way for such an invasion, so would this fleshy channel. At first resisting, fighting the intrusion, beckoning pleasure and burning need caused it to give way, accepting the hard tunneling length that pierced it.

Dale ground out Rick's name. Agonized pleasure and fiery pain warred at his breaching. Rick stopped, holding steady, giving Dale's body the time it needed to adjust. Moments passed. 

"Now, Rick, now." Dale panted. The pain was gone, pleasure only, awaited. 

"Are you sure, babe?" Part of Rick was serious, in that he wanted to make sure Dale was unhurt, that he find only pleasure from now on. The other part was that imp that found pleasure in teasing his lover.

Dale groaned dramatically, "Don't tease me now, you bastard, move!"

Rick nuzzled Dale at that place where neck and shoulder joined. Animal instinct washed over him as his bit down, holding Dale in place, claiming his mate as he thrust slowly forward until he was fully seated, buried to the root.

He rested against Dale, sudden irritation washing over him at the presence of their shirts. He wanted more skin, more Dale. Impatiently, he pulled his own shirt over his head, dropping it at their feet. 

He reached for Dale's, pushing it up, "Take it off Dale, now." 

Dale complied, lifting his arms, shivering as cool air washed over his damp skin. Rick pulled away the offending garment, covering Dale with his own heated body. Grasping Dale's hips, he began to move. The skin of Dale's back rubbed his nipples, causing them to peak. He reached around with one hand, finding one of Dale's, already beaded, hard. He pinched it firmly, pulling a gasp from Dale, a gasp that fought for a place between his steady moans and grunts of pleasure.

Dale felt weakened by Rick's sudden urgency. Once begun, he moved with unrelenting, machine like precision. He drove them steadily upward with long gliding strokes that became short jabbing punches with a staccato rhythm that hit Dale's nut with unerring accuracy. Approaching orgasm had both men's balls drawing up tight, Rick's slapping against Dale with each hard thrust.

Knowing he was about to shoot, Rick slid his hand from Dale's chest, down. He grasped Dale's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Twin guttural groans broke free as Dale's cock swelled, thick streams of cum erupting in rhythmic bursts. Rick shot his load, his ass clenched tight as he rocked against Dale, his cock once again buried to the hilt, grinding deep into the sheath that convulsed, squeezing, milking, draining him. 

Release calmed their urgent mating frenzy. Exhaustion seeped in. Rick's cock slipped free and he dropped to the cool grass, pulling Dale down with him. They lay in a relaxed, rubbery heap until Dale shivered.

"It's a little cold, now that the heats off." Dale quipped weakly.

Rick slid his hand over the cool skin of Dale's ass, "You are cooling off a mite." he agreed. He groaned and rose, pulling Dale up. "Better cover up, babe, don't want any important parts getting frost bit." 

Rick adjusted his own jeans while Dale donned his. They gathered up the rest of the discarded clothing, shoes and the neglected marshmallows. The fire had burned down to glowing embers that glittered sullenly under powdery ash. The remains of the bonfire seemed to be sulking. It's heat had not matched that generated by two horny humans.

Arms full, they returned to the house. Dale dropped his shoes in the mud room. Everything else landed on the kitchen table. Rick's contributions joined his. He looked up to find Rick watching him, a tender, yet somewhat uncertain look on his face. Dale gave him a slow tentative smile. Rick's own lips began to curve in a smile as he pulled Dale into his arms. 




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 02



He held him firmly, rocking slightly. He pulled back, cupping Dale's cheeks in the palms of his hands, kissing him. Slowly, lovingly, softly, sweetly. His arms again brought him close, their bodies melded from chest to thigh as he nibbled gently at Dale's lips, sliding his tongue in, finding Dale's, engaging it, enticing it to dance. Dale whimpered at the exquisite sensuality of Rick's actions. His seduction was like hot melted chocolate, rich, decadent, irresistible.

Again Rick pulled away. He looked deeply into to Dale's eyes, his own, open, vulnerable, hopeful. "I don't know about you," he confessed quietly, but I'm in love."

Dale closed his eyes, tears squeezing from the corners. Incredulous joy raced through him. He opened his eyes to find Rick waiting, his expression lost, resigned. Dale reached out, gently stroking his fingers over Rick's cheek. 

He smiled. A brilliant, watery smile, "I love you too, angel."

Rick's own eyes filled with tears, he squeezed Dale lightly, "God, babe, you scared me for a minute there."

Contrite, Dale kissed Rick, his hands gently rubbing his back, consoling, reassuring. He slowly ended the kiss, "I'm sorry baby, you surprised the hell out of me. I was hoping, but I never really believed, you'd say those words. Guess I didn't realize just how intelligent you are."

Rick's brow rose, "You know, city boy, casting aspersions on the intelligence of the man you just accepted as your partner, doesn't exactly speak too well of your own judgement."

Dale nodded sagely, "You're right. I take it back. I have excellent judgement and superior manipulative skills. I skillfully steered your monumental intellect into realizing your love for me."

Rick snorted, laughing, "Care to repeat that?"

"Not really." Dale replied as he gazed fondly at his partner. He felt giddy with joy. "Are you staying the night?"

"You bet, unless you want me to go home." Rick offered with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

"Fuck no! Come on, stud, I need a shower." Dale exited the kitchen and made for the stairs. He stopped, looked over his shoulder and winked, "You can wash my back, and anything else that strikes your fancy."

Rick grinned and followed, "Yee haw, hurry up, babe, somehow you got real dirty."

Dale took off, Rick chasing him up the stairs.

                      *           *           *

Dale stirred, stretching, his limbs sliding against the cool cotton sheets. He smiled a sleepy and satisfied smile. Reaching for Rick, his eyes opened to find the other side of the bed empty. He lay back, unconcerned. Rick must be in the bathroom or possible downstairs already. Lord knows he wasn't ready for another session yet, but some cuddling would have been nice. 

Last night they'd showered together. He'd sucked Rick off, Rick reciprocated, his skill making Dale's knees weak. Hitting the bed, they snuggled together, warm and naked, talking quietly until they drifted off. Dale woke sometime in the night to find Rick between his legs. Rick had found the lube and condoms Dale kept in the night stand. He had gently prepared him, making love to him at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every move had been so tender, so filled with love, Dale had been rocked to his very core. 

Much as he reveled in Rick's care, he reached a point where he hovered on the edge of release. Rick had made him beg. He trapped Dale's arms over his head, making sure he couldn't touch himself. Holding him imprisoned, Rick whispered hotly in his ear, ordering Dale to tell him what he wanted, what he needed, how badly he wanted to come, until desperately he begged, groaning with relief as Rick increased the pace, pounding his clasping chute, his aching cock sliding between their sweat drenched bellies, until he unloaded, practically screaming with relief.

After resting for a few moments, cooling semen gelling between them, Rick rose and returned from the bathroom with a warm damp washcloth and a dry towel. He gently cleansed Dale's sticky skin, from his belly to his well used pucker, then toweled him dry. With a tender smile on his face, he slid his fingers through Dale's hair, brushing it softly back from his face, leaning in for a kiss. Rick returned to bathroom, taking care of his own cleanup. He came back and climbed in bed, pulling Dale into his arms. They drifted immediately to sleep.

Dale sighed and rolled out of bed. He entered the bathroom. A niggle of disquiet quivered in his belly. He made use of the toilet, picked up the jeans he'd discarded on the floor the night before and pulled them on. His bare feet made no sound as he walked downstairs. He glanced into the living room, then entered the kitchen. No Rick. No note. No nothing. Stomach clenching in dread, he looked out the kitchen window. Rick's truck was gone.                                                *           *           *

Dale spent the day, first wandering aimlessly, then sitting, lost in a fog of misery. At first he convinced himself that Rick had left to go get some clothes or something and that he'd be back. After several hours, he convinced himself there would be a phone call. By dusk he realized Rick wasn't coming back. 

He agonized over the idea of calling Rick's parents, but finally vetoed the idea. What could he say? Aside from the fact that Rick didn't live with them, they might not have heard from him today in any case. He had Rick's number, but refused to use it. If Rick was breaking things off, he wasn't going to chase him. And yet he worried, what if something had happened to him? 

Finally in a fit of panic, he called Rick's parents. His mother answered the phone. Dale casually inquired if she knew when Rick was coming to take the backhoe back to their farm. Rick's mother innocently answered that she wasn't sure, but told Dale she'd ask Rick when he came in from the barn. He ended the conversation with a polite affirmative of having enjoyed the untouched lemon meringue pie. So Rick was unhurt. Dale's worst fears were confirmed.

He was devastated, stunned. Last night had been incredible, perfect. How could Rick just leave? Was the whole thing a lie? Had he done something wrong? Nothing made sense, all was darkness and confusion. Dale found himself on the floor, crying and rocking in misery. It was Tony all over again, only this time a hundred, a thousand times worse. Dale was shattered. He curled up on the floor and tried to make himself disappear as darkness filled the house, and night descended.

                       *           *            *

Dale woke at 4 a.m. shivering, his muscles cramping. He pulled himself to the sofa, his mind blank as he rested, extending his limbs, easing the ache until he was able to stand. He walked slowly upstairs and entered his bedroom. Seeing the mussed sheets on the bed, he stilled the twinge that threatened to awaken the emotions he locked away. 

He pulled the sheets free, leaving the bed unmade. Entering the bathroom he threw the sheets in the hamper. He avoiding making eye contact with the mirror. He wanted to see no one, least of all himself. Back in the bedroom, he donned jock, shorts, socks and tee shirt. Downstairs he added running shoes. He let himself out of the house, the cool air making him shiver as he warmed up, stretching.

Ready, Dale ran. He ran at a slow steady pace, mind blank, body on automatic. He ran until his legs cramped, protesting, and then he walked. Walked down road after road, sweat running from his exhausted body. He walked until his legs quivered with the strain, and then he stopped, breathing hard, lost. For the first time he took a look around. The territory was totally unfamiliar.

He wanted nothing more than to lay down in the grass beside the road. Finished. Done. Over.

An old red pick up truck chose that moment to come over the hill, a grizzled old man at the wheel. He stopped by Dale.

"You ok, young man?" he asked.

Dale swallowed, his throat parched, "I'm looking for Wallings Road. Do you know where it is?"

"Son, that's about 25 miles north of here. You hoofin' it?"

Dale nodded, despair threatening to break through the carefully constructed mental fence he used to pen his emotions.

"Get in," the old man ordered.

Even if he'd wanted to, Dale was too tired to protest. He wobbled to the passenger door and crawled in. His hip, thigh and calf muscles burned as he silently settled back, buckling his seat belt.

The old man stepped on the gas. His radio was tuned to some station that played old country hits. The music was low and the old man talked. He rambled on and on, over each passing mile. Dale let the soothing sound of his voice wash over him, not really paying attention to the words. He seemed to need no replies or encouragements to continue his conversation, happy to have a captive audience.

Forty minutes later, they pulled into Dale's driveway. Dale offered to give the man, Henry, some gas money.

"Not necessary, Dale. I enjoyed the company." Dale opened the door, about to make his exit, when Henry stopped him. "Take my advice, son, whoever she is, forget about her. It ain't worth killing yourself over. You hear?"

Dale felt his throat close. He nodded, choked out his thanks and stumbled to the back door. In the kitchen, he got a glass of water and drank it slowly, cautious about making himself sick by taking too much too soon. He opened the refrigerator door and came face to face with all the barbeque left overs. Squashing the surge of emotion that threatened, he pulled the large garbage can from the mud room and began throwing everything in, containers and all. Finishing with the lemon meringue pie, he scooped it out with his hands, throwing the pie in the trash and placing the dish in the sink.

He cleaned up his hands, Mrs. Hunter's pie plate, and dragged the trash container to the end of the driveway. Tomorrow was pick up day. Dale returned to the house and heated himself a cup of broth, sitting at the table, sipping it slowly, along with another glass of water. He felt nothing. He was numb. A vast and bottom-less weariness settled over him. He rose and swayed, steadied himself and climbed the stairs. Taking a blanket from the closet, he lay on the bed and rolled up in it, pretending strong arms held him, keeping him safe and warm.

Dale spent the next three days punishing himself, hiding from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to bury him. He learned his lesson from the day before, and paid attention to where he walked. Now he only walked. His tired, abused body was on the verge of collapse. He walked for miles and fed it nothing but broth and water. Pounds were melting away and Dale hadn't needed to lose weight.

He didn't bathe. He didn't shave. He didn't change his clothes. By the fourth day his appearance was totally disreputable, his smell even worse. After staggering home at the end of that fourth day, Dale sat at the kitchen table sipping his broth. His nose wrinkled and he peered at it suspiciously, the thought running through his head that it must be rotten. He checked the date on the can and found it acceptable. Taking another sip, he nearly gagged. He took the cup to the sink and dumped the contents.

Again he settled at the table and drank his water. The smell poured over him. The miasma was rank, borderline putrid. Suddenly he realized what it was. It was him. He stank. An unexpected snort of amusement broke from him. A chuckle became a small laugh, until he was laughing uncontrollably. He swayed, sliding from his chair to the floor, laughing hysterically, until tears ran from his eyes. Tears of mirth that became tears of misery. Laughter turned to gut wrenching sobs that tore through Dale's weakened body leaving him shaking uncontrollably, his body cramping and quivering with the effort. 

Finally he quieted. He lay on the floor staring at the legs of the chairs and table as his mind slowly came awake. Still down, slow, silent tears streamed down his face as he opened the gate and let reality return. Dale had reached and experienced his catharsis. The tears he now cried brought healing, the acknowledgment of an end. He was ready to let go, to resume his life.

Feeling a new calm, a soothing peace, he levered himself up and stripped, dropping his clothes into the trash. Naked, he slowly made his way upstairs for a bath, a baptism as it were, signaling his new beginning.

To be continued....



The Farmer & Dale Ch. 03



Fear had driven Rick away. Fear of the unknown of how his family would react. All his life his parents and siblings had been his rock, the solid foundation that made his life work. The thought of losing them left him feeling lost and alone.

That night, after making love with Dale that last time, he'd awoken shivering. Anxiety creeping over him, fear knifing into his gut. He rose quietly and seated himself in one of the oak chairs that Dale had kept in the bedroom. He watched Dale sleep, so innocently, so peacefully. He contemplated his future with Dale, wondering if he could really sacrifice his family for him. What if things didn't work out? He'd find himself totally alone, no lover, no family, no friends. What if he ended up resenting Dale for his loss? Tears crept down his cheeks at the thought of this joyous love he felt, turn into something ugly and hurtful. Panic rose, twisting his guts, forcing him up and out. He ran.   

Five days later, Rick was still punishing himself. He did every shit job he could find, just to keep himself occupied. At night he'd drive into Smiley's, and drink with the regulars under the table. Everyday he woke with a hangover, puking his guts out. Pale and shaking, he'd return to work, sweating the remaining alcohol out of his system.  And then again, he would return to Smiley's for another round of poison each night. 

He also ate little. Guilt and anger kept his stomach twisted when the alcohol wasn't of sufficient quantity to make him forget.

He wore a brace on his left hand. Cursing himself for his cowardice, agonizing over Dale and what he must be going though. He was blinded by rage at himself and the situation. He punched a support beam in the barn, acquiring a hairline fracture. The six by six beam suffered no damage.

That night at Smiley's, he sat alone in a booth, contemplating that magical night with Dale. His friends and those clinging women, knew better now than to disturb him. Rick had become surly and uncommunicative. He made it clear he wanted no company.  

He sat and studied the pictures he'd pulled from his wallet. His parents, his siblings and their spouses, assorted nieces and nephews. 

A picture of Dale filled his mind. Dale joking with him, teasing him. Dale fixing him coffee… that indulgent smile curving his sweet lips. Dale working with him, side by side, laboring through his exhaustion. Dale under him, their bodies joined, his words of love filling Rick's ears and his heart.  

Tears filled his eyes and rolled dolefully down his cheeks.  Suddenly, he slid out of the booth, dashing the tears away. He staggered out of the bar leaving early, his alcohol buzzed brain seized with the notion to see Dale. 

He had to see Dale. Had to be with Dale.  

Rick drove slowly with exaggerated care. He had to get to Dale. He arrived to find the house pitch dark, not surprising as it was after one in the morning. He exited his truck and climbed the front porch steps. Hesitating only a moment, he began knocking at the door. He saw a light come on behind the concealing curtains. The fabric parted slightly, Dale's face appeared. His expression was at first annoyed, then startled. Rick caught a fleeting glimpse of infinite pain that was suddenly blanked.  

The front door opened. Dale kept the screen door locked, it stood between them.  

"What are you doing here, Rick?" he question coldly.

"I had to see you, to tell you how sorry I am that I left." he paused then blurted the words he couldn't keep inside, "I had to tell you how much I love you."

Dale blanched, drawing back as though struck, his voice quivered, "You're drunk, go home." He closed the door.  

Rick heard the dead-bolt click. He turned away, shocked as his heart shattered. Sliding to his knees on the porch floor, wracking sobs shook his body. He thought he'd felt pain before.  He realized it was nothing compared to this. Dale hated him. His life was over.  

He didn't hear the door open, didn't see the figure that stood over him, until warm arms encircled him. Dale's scent filled his nostrils, he fumbled his arms around that precious body, holding on for dear life.  

Dale's murmured words penetrated his consciousness, "It's not fair. Where were you when I cried? Where were you? Where were you?"

Rick finally realized that Dale was crying too. "I'm sorry baby, so sorry, I was scared, I didn't know what to do. I know I hurt you. I didn't want to. I didn't know what to do. I just didn't know what to do."

Dale pulled away, "You were scared? You didn't know what to do? You should have talked to me. That's what you should have done. You think I wasn't scared too, after all the shit I've been through?" 

Dale described in short pithy sentences, his failed relationship with Tony.

Rick stared at Dale, the realization of just how deeply he'd hurt him, seeping in. He rose on unsteady legs and turned away.

"Where are you going?" Dale demanded.

Head hanging, Rick explained, his voice a defeated mumble, "I know you can never forgive me
Dale. I want you to know, you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You deserve someone a hell lot better than me." 

He placed a foot forward, preparing to walk away one final time.

"I swear to God, Rick Hunter, if you walk away, I'm going to kick your fucking ass." Dale growled out each word, his voice a fierce growl.

Rick turned, surprise giving him an almost comical expression. Hope filled his eyes.

"Do you love me?" Dale asked quietly.

Rick nodded.

"Do you promise from now on to share every problem with me? To talk to me? To give us a chance to find a solution together?"

Rick nodded again.

"Get your ass in the house." Dale ordered.

A ghost of Rick's patented grin made a fleeting appearance on his face as he was chastened. He entered the house.

Dale led him into the kitchen, indicating he should sit. Rick's eyes followed him non-stop as Dale fixed a pot of coffee. He placed a steaming cup in front of Rick and sat next to him. He studied Rick with a critical air as he sipped his coffee.  

Reaching out, he brushed Rick's hair back from his face, "Looking a little rough there, farm boy."

Rick closed his eyes momentarily, nodding his agreement. He shivered at Dale's familiar yet fleeting touch. He opened his eyes, running a critical assessment of Dale

"You look a little haggard yourself." he observed quietly.

"It's been rough." Dale admitted.

Rick broke eye contact, his gaze fastening on the table.

Dale sighed, "I didn't say that to make you feel bad, Rick. I just figure we should be truthful with each other. I'm guessing you've made yourself feel almost as bad as I could." He grazed his finger-tips over the brace on Rick's hand. "What happened here?"

"Hairline fracture," Rick admitted.

"How'd you manage that?" Dale asked.

Rick grimaced, a blush heating his cheeks.

Dale's eyebrow raised.

"I was...uh...upset, I hit a support beam in the barn." Rick confessed shamefacedly.

Dale tried to suppress a smile but was unsuccessful, "So you tried to beat up a barn. Gutsy. Real gutsy, Hunter."

Eye contact resulted in unsuppressed chuckles. The laughter eased the tension.

Dale stood, "Come on, you look like you could use a shower and some sleep"

He led the way upstairs. As Rick stripped, Dale laid out fresh towels for him. While Rick showered, Dale splashed water on his face. He used the toilet and resisted the urge to flush it, just to hear Rick yell as the water got unexpectedly warm. He returned to the bedroom and stripped off his jeans, briefly considering whether he wanted to don briefs or sleep naked as usual. He opted for usual.

Rick made his appearance, hair damp, a towel wrapped around his waist.  

He hesitantly approached the bed, "If you want, I can sleep on the couch, or in one of the other bedrooms. I don't want to push you Dale. I want you to be comfortable, but.... I'd really like to hold you babe. Just hold you, nothing else."

A soft smile graced Dale's lips. He pulled back the covers, silently inviting Rick in. Rick smiled in return, dropped the towel and climbed in. The two of them snuggled together, Dale kissed Rick's shoulder and sighed. Bodies relaxed. The effects of emotional and physical ravages took hold. The reunited lovers fell instantly asleep, locked securely in each other's arms.

***

Dale woke slowly, stretching. His eyes blinked open. It was fully daylight, the sun well up. A thrill of panic clenched his stomach. He rolled forcefully, his elbow connecting with the hard abs of the man who lay next to him. Rick grunted, bending to protect his besieged mid-section.

"Damn, babe, are you going wake me up like this every morning? I was hoping for something a little sexier, if you know what I mean." He gave his eyebrows a lascivious wiggle.

"Sorry," Dale murmured, his breathing a bit rapid, "I wasn't sure... I didn't know..." He stopped, unsure of what to say without sounding accusing.

Rick rose up on his elbow, pushing Dale to his back, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll never leave you again." He nuzzled Dale playfully, "Except for one thing. I really gotta piss. Bad."

He clambered over Dale's reclined form, his morning hard on poking Dale as he went. Dale reached out, delivering a resounding smack to Rick's retreating ass. Rick yelped and halted, turning a frowning gaze on Dale's innocent face.

"You will pay for that, my innocent, little angel, mark my words." He continued on to the bathroom. "By the way, if you need to pee, you better get in here. That's the only reason you get to leave that bed today."  

Dale grinned, eager to comply. He anticipated Rick's lovemaking. He was disappointed that Rick kept him in bed all right, he made him rest and eat. 

Last night, when Rick joined Dale in bed, he became vividly aware of the physical manifestations of Dale's ordeal. The weight-loss was noticeable. Dale had dark circles under his eyes that had not been there before. Remorse weighed heavily on Rick as he held Dale close through the night. He was determined to erase all reminders of his mistake, both physical and emotional.  

He began by bringing breakfast in bed. He brought enough for two and they spent a pleasant, and to Dale's way of thinking, frustrating hour, feeding, teasing and arousing each other with no more release than that provided by a few long, hot kisses. Dale assured Rick that he was fine, to no avail, Rick just shoved another tidbit in his mouth, admonishing him to eat.

Between meals, they slept, or read, or watched movies. Rick stayed at Dale's side the entire day, except when he goes down to prepare meals. Rick would be the last to admit it, but his own body needed replenishment as well. His meals had been sparse, his body inundated with too much alcohol. Rick felt somewhat jittery and tired that day, he gratefully took his naps alongside Dale.

He slept especially sound during the late afternoon hours before supper. He woke to an empty bed, Dale having disappeared. He checked the bathroom, then downstairs, finding Dale in the kitchen preparing supper. He frowned fiercely.

"Damn it, Dale, your supposed to be in bed!"

Dale jumped, flipping a handful of salad greens out of the colander and into the sink, "Shit! Did you have to scare me like that?"

Rick moved to the sink, relieving Dale of the colander. "Go back to bed," he ordered.

"Rick."

"Bed."

"Damn it, Rick, I'm not the only one who needs to be in bed. You think I can't see that you suffered too?" Dale admonished him. "You lost weight, angel, and you're tired. You didn't stir when I got out of bed."

Rick's anger was defused, "You're too observant, you know. Am I ever going to be able to put anything over on you?"

"No," Dale chuckled, "but you're welcome to keep trying."

"All right," Rick conceded, "I propose a compromise. We fix supper together, then we both go to bed."

"On one condition," Dale agreed, "sometime, before this night is over, you have to touch me with improper intent."

Rick looked at Dale, feigning shock, " Why, Mr. Vaden, I'm surprised at you! Are you inviting me to take carnal liberties with your personality?"

"You damn well better believe I am." Dale complained, "I'm horny."

Rick snickered at Dale's plaintive admission, "Come here, you." He hooked an arm around Dale's neck, pulling him close. "I promise to perform, sordid, lewd and lascivious acts on your body, later. You'll be my soiled dove, my fallen angel, my deflowered virgin."

Dale's brows rose at the last moniker, "Um, I think it's a little late for that last one."

"You're right," Rick agreed with a shrug, "ah well. Hey, maybe I should introduce you to my favorite role playing fantasy. It's called ‘Milking the Cow.’"

Dale frowned, his face was a study in confusion and disbelief. He looked at Rick from under lowered lashes, unsure if he was serious or not.

Rick lost his struggle to keep a straight face, he burst out laughing, "Lord, you should see your face!"

Dale grinned sheepishly, "I didn't know if I should be jealous because you've been doing the cows, or drop to all fours and practice my moo."

Rick howled with laughter as tears streaked down his face. Dale grabbed him as he staggered into his arms.  

"You're a nut." he accused Rick fondly, "Must be why I feel I have to take pity on you and give you a little lovin'."

"Bullshit," Rick chuckled. "You know it's because you find me sexy and irresistible."

Dale solicitously patted Rick on the back, while pretending to humor him, "Oh yeah, that's right, I forgot. Come on sweetie, let's get supper started. You need to eat. I think you're a little light headed."

The two of them continued their banter as they fixed their supper. They fixed a simple meal, salad, toasted cheese sandwiches, and cream of tomato soup. Neither had the inclination to play gourmet. It was just too much trouble, they wanted a quick fix, simple food and a quicker cleanup. That accomplished they returned upstairs.

Rick declined sharing the shower with Dale, much to Dale's disappointment. After performing his nightly bedtime rituals, he turned the bathroom over to Rick and jumped into bed, waiting impatiently. When Rick joined him in bed, he immediately became the aggressor. He kissed Rick with all his pent up passion, wringing moans from him. His hands wandered Rick's body, massaging, arousing. Having taken enough, Rick went on the offensive. He rolled Dale over onto his stomach.

"I want you on your knees, baby." he ordered.  

Dale complied, groaning as Rick draped himself over his body. Rick reached around and took
Dale's cock in hand, slowly stroking.

"Guess what I found." Rick whispered in his ear.

"What?" Dale panted, totally unprepared for Rick's next salvo.

"A teat." Rick answered.

Dale growled a warning, "Rick, don't start." Irritated, Dale couldn't help the laughter that began slowly bubbling inside.

Rick ignored him and continued to pull at Dale's cock, "It's a big one too, think I'll milk it." He increased the strength of his strokes. Dale groaned, torn between laughter and the indescribable pleasure he was getting from Rick's touch.  

"You sadistic bastard," he gasped as the laughter bubbled closer to the surface.

Rick whispered seductively, "Moo for me, baby."

Dale lost it completely. The laughter burst free as he collapsed to the bed. He lay there, shaking. 

Rick's equally laugh-racked frame draped partially over his own. The bed shook with their mirth, not exactly the way Dale had planned for it to be shaking, but pleasurable just the same, and healing.  

Rick rolled slowly to his back with a groan and a long, contented, "Mmm." as Dale followed, moving into his arms. Muscles relaxed and weakened by the laughter, they lay drowsy and acquiescent as sleep began to claim them.

Dale sleepily murmured a plaintive "I'm never gonna get laid" and drifted to sleep.

Rick joined him, a sleepy, yet devilish smile, curving his lips.

A couple of hours later, Dale woke to growing pleasure. His cock was engulfed in hot, wet, velvet heat that stroked and sucked. He groaned and reached down, finding the head of his lover bobbing rhythmically over his groin. He wrapped his fingers in soft, silky hair, petting, encouraging, and expressing his appreciation.

Rick hummed, acknowledging Dale's awareness.  

Dale's body clenched at the vibration. His buttocks tightened as he mindlessly undulated a counter rhythm. Rick's hand cupped his ball sack, gently massaging, drawing a guttural groan from Dale. When his fingers found that velvety length of skin between balls and pucker, pressing firmly, Dale cried out and released. Powerful spurts of hot, fertile cream flooded Rick's mouth, which he swallowed with pleasure.

Dale finally calmed, his body melting, loose and relaxed. Rick moved up, covering him, finding his mouth, sharing a cum-flavored kiss.

"You didn't get laid, but I hope that helped." Rick whispered.

"Oh yeah, baby, just let me catch my breath and I'll show you how good it feels."

"Uh, uh, that was for you, lover. Just relax and sleep. We've got time, lots of time now, babe. Go to sleep."

Dale's heavy lids fluttered closed as Rick's deep soothing rumble, washed over him. Rick hovered over him, softly stroking his hair. He was content to watch, to be part of the peace that filled his lover. He felt infinitely peaceful and satisfied himself, knowing he was correcting his mistake, heading in the right direction. No matter how much he loved his family, he knew now that Dale is his future. He was ready to accept the consequences, whatever they might be.

***

The next morning they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together. Dale noticed that Rick seemed uncommonly subdued. At first he put it down to their continuing recovery, neither of them had coped very well with their separation.  

Dale stood and began clearing the table while Rick finished his coffee. Dumping the dishes into hot soapy water, he returned to Rick. He walked behind him, placing his hands on Rick's shoulders, he began a firm massage. Rick sighed and leaned back, his head against Dale's mid-section. Smiling, Dale continued the massage, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of Rick's head.

"You ok, baby?" he asked.

"Yeah, babe, just a little tired I guess." He took one of Dale's hands, kissing his knuckles, "Listen, I'm going to return the backhoe to mom and dad's and have a talk with them, about us."

Dale's stomach lurched in sympathy. He knew Rick was dreading the upcoming confession and possible confrontation with his parents.

He squeezed Rick's shoulder, "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Rick nodded, "I don't want to put it off. Waiting will just make it harder. Besides, they're gonna wonder why I'm over here all the time." He stood and took Dale's hands in his, "Tell me you love me."  

Dale looked steadily into those beautiful, solemn, yet expectant, blue-green eyes, "I love you Rick Hunter. No doubts."

Rick nodded decisively, curtly, as sheen of tears brightened his eyes. Dale dropped one of his hands but kept a firm hold of the other. He led him to the living room, leaving Rick in the center of the room with the admonition to stay put. He went to the stereo and pushing a button,  selected a CD. He returned to Rick as the music began to flow from the speakers.

"I want you to listen to this song." He held out his arms, "Dance with me"

Rick stepped forward and was enfolded in warmth and comfort. The music was soft and easy. The words telling of a lover's fear of newly discovered love. And though the fear was there, so was the knowledge that everything would be all right as long as they were together.

They swayed slowly, as its mellow sweetness poured over them, the words knifing straight to his soul. He clung to Dale as tears threatened to pour. Dale's arms tightened, holding his man in a warm, secure embrace. Their movements slowed and halted as the music ended.  




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 03



"It's us isn't it?" Rick murmured.

"To us, baby, to us. That's why I wanted you to hear it."

Dale again took Rick's hand in his. "I know you're afraid Rick. Afraid of what's going to happen today. Afraid of these feelings we have for each other and where they'll lead us. I am too, but like in the song, we can't go back or undo it. We both know that's no longer an option. I don't think it ever was." He held Rick's gaze with his own, his mossy green eyes, serious and sincere. "What we have is special.  It’s meant to be. There are a lot of unknowns in the future but we'll find the strength in each other to face them. Together." He gave Rick a sweet, loving kiss, "I love you, I'm here for you."

Rick took a deep breath and nodded, turning, he walked through the kitchen and out the back door. Dale was surprised when a few moments later he returned, carrying a ringed binder filled with papers.  

"I've been carrying this around the last few days, debating on whether or not to ask you to look at it." He handed the binder to Dale, "I'd be honored if you'd read some of it and give me your opinion." He gave Dale a quick kiss. At the doorway he stopped and looked back, "I love you
Dale, I'll be back in a little while."

Dale nodded. He sat down on the sofa, listening for the sound of the backhoe. It was fired up and by the sound, he could tell it was on the move.  

Curious, he settled back and opened the binder. Inside was a series of short stories. Dale began with the first one and was soon engrossed. He was touched by the writing. The stories were interesting, the characters well drawn. By turns he laughed and cried and was amazed by this outpouring of a talent Rick had apparently kept hidden. He was unaware of the passing time until Rick entered the living room. Dale took one look at his face and stood, going to him, wrapping his arms around him for a hug.

"Tell me, angel." he murmured softly, as he drew back to study Rick as he spoke.

"Mom...she didn't take it too well. She hit me, Dale. Momma's never hit me, not once in my whole life." Rick spoke mechanically, remotely, "Dad, he didn't say anything, not one word. After Mom left the room, crying, we just sort of stared at each other for a minute. It was like we were strangers. Finally, I told him if he needed to reach me, I'd be here."  

He looked at Dale, his eyes seeming to focus away from some distant point "See, I told you I'd be back," he said with almost child-like simplicity.  

Dale bit his lip, Rick was in shock, "I know you did baby, I'm glad you're home. Let's get some ice for your cheek."

Rick nodded and followed Dale into the kitchen, waiting patiently as he filled an old-fashioned ice bag with cubes from the freezer. Dale kept the bag for occasional headaches, usually brought on by sinus. Keeping his head half frozen was the only way he got relief from headaches that sometimes lasted for several days.  

Bag filled, Dale led Rick upstairs. Once in the bedroom, he had him sit on the edge of the bed, so could remove his shoes. He urged Rick to lie down and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. He placed the ice bag on Rick's red and slightly swollen cheek.

"How does that feel, baby? Better?" he asked.

Rick nodded and shivered slightly. Dale reached for a blanket and pulled it over him, tucking it tight. "Close your eyes, love, relax." He tenderly combed Rick's hair back, a slow, soothing act that calmed and reassured both of them. Rick yawned. Dale smiled, "Go to sleep, baby. It'll be all right. Go to sleep." he crooned softly.


***

"Dale?"

Rick's almost panicked call, brought him instantly alert and to the bed.  

"I'm right here, Rick. You ok, babe?"

Dale had held the ice-pack to Rick's cheek for nearly half an hour, as he slept. The place where his mother hit him was reddened, though the swelling seemed to have gone down. He'd left him for a moment, going downstairs to retrieve the binder that contained Rick's stories. Returning to the bedroom, he settled himself comfortably in one of his grandmother's chairs, opening the binder to read and wait for Rick to wake.  

"I'm ok, Dale. I was a little out of it when I got here, but I'm ok now." He sat up and sighed,
"I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." Dale sat on the bed. They hugged, rocking gently, "I'm sorry Rick. Sorry things turned out the way they did."

Rick drew back and nodded, "So am I, but damn it, I'm not going to cry about it." He blinked back the tears that threatened. "This shit has got to stop."

"What shit?" Dale questioned.

"All this emotional upheaval. I haven't cried this much since I was twelve and my dog died. It's not dignified."  

Dale snorted, "Since when have you been concerned with dignity?"

"Since right now." Rick retorted. "Lets go out. I'm not going to hang around the house and mope the rest of the day and night. I know, let's go on a date. Dinner and a movie, what do you say?"

"So, you're asking me out?"  

"Yes, I am. Will you go out with me, Dale, please?"

Dale felt a shiver of pleasure, "I'd love to go out with you."

Rick gave a whoop and jumped out of bed, his grin at full watt. "We've got plenty of time to get ready. Let's drive into Springfield, I know this little Italian place that has the best manicotti you've ever eaten. Then we'll catch a movie, your choice. Does that sound ok?"

Dale nodded, laughing as Rick grabbed him up in his arms and danced him around the room.

***

Rick had kept his cheery attitude and made their date a rousing success. Dinner was ambrosial, the movie amusing and their lovemaking on their return home, explosive. Rick's amorous mood had lasted through the night. He kept at Dale constantly, almost desperately, it seemed. Dale was certain some of his urgent need had to do with what had happened between him and his parents. He was desperate to be assured that Dale loved him, needed him.  

Dale was more than happy to comply, returning Rick's passion with equal fervor. Though concerned with Rick's insecurities, he wasn't about to stop and try to engage him in meaningful conversation. Rick was in rut. Dale reveled in it.  

Morning found them sleeping late.

The next couple of days, they worked around the house and outside. Rick was a man who needed to stay busy and did. He did maintenance on the mowers and tiller that were stored in the garage. 

The grass had gotten tall and he spent some few hours mowing. He took over the care of the ground that had hosted the now defunct poplar grove. He arranged for some soil to be delivered to fill in the holes. With the tiller he worked the ground, blending the new soil with the old. The area was soon prepared and ready.

He and Dale made a trip into the local nursery, where they picked out four, tall, sturdy oak trees and three, showy, scarlet maples. The trees were of a size that they needed to be delivered, Rick helping the nursery man to set them in when they arrived. He and Dale gazed at their new grove with satisfaction. The trees were spaced to allow plenty of room for growth.

"Just think how these will look a few years from now." Dale spoke with satisfaction.

Rick threw an arm around his shoulder and squeezed, "Those maples are going to be something to see this fall, they'll add color the oaks can't. But the oaks... there's something timeless and reassuring about oak trees. They stand so tough and steady, unshakable and constant, as the years pass."

Dale squeezed Rick by means of the arm he'd looped around his waist. "You have a poet's soul, my love. Which reminds me, I want to talk to you about your stories."

"Okay...do I want to hear this?" he asked with some trepidation.

Dale laughed and released him, ducking from under his arm. "Well, I'm not sure." he began walking back to the house, Rick anxiously on his heels.

"What does that mean?" Rick asked suspiciously.

"Maybe we should just forget I brought it up." Dale teased.

"Dale." Rick growled, in warning.

"What?"

"Tell me."

"Make me." Dale threw over his shoulder and sprinted away.

"You little shit." Rick cursed and took off in pursuit.

The two of them ran around the house, Dale dodging Rick's determined pursuit. Dale would have been fine if he hadn't started laughing. He was clearly the faster of the two. He led Rick on, reversing direction, rounding the barn, when his amusement tripped him up. Weakened by laughter, he fell victim to Rick's flying tackle.

They rolled in the soft, fragrant, padding of grass, Rick making sure he came out on top. With
Dale pinned beneath him, Rick began a determined tickle attack that had him shrieking and begging for mercy. At last, winded, and satisfied he'd doled out sufficient punishment, Rick ceased. Dale sucked in deep drafts of air. As his breath steadied, he bucked under Rick's imprisoning weight.

"Get off me, you fiend."

Rick declined to comply. "Not until you tell me what you thought about what I wrote."

"Ok, ok. I give up." Dale took another deep breath. "You're stories are wonderful. I want to introduce you to my agent and have her read them. Have you ever thought about writing something longer?"

Rick was stunned, he rolled off Dale and collapsed in the grass, "You're serious aren't you? You're not just saying that because we're lovers. You really mean it don't you?"

"I'm serious all right, I wouldn't waste my agent's time, she'd skin me." Dale levered himself up and leaned over Rick. "You have a real talent, Rick, it would be a shame to keep it hidden. You should be published so others can enjoy your writing, not to mention the fact that the money can be damn good."

Rick lay still, watching the clouds move slowly across the sky. Dale lay back next to him.

"What do you say to a trip to New York? I'll call my agent to arrange a meeting. I want her to verify what I think, that you have a lot of raw potential. I'm not saying you'll see a book in print with your name on it in the next few months, but I want you to have the opinion of a professional." Dale explained. "Afterward we can spend a couple of days cruising around the Big Apple. It could be fun. Might be a good thing to get away for a few days or even a week or two.  

Rick remained silent for a moment or two, then sat up. "Lets do it. I've never been to New York, never been to much of anywhere for that matters. I think it's time I expand my horizons." He stood and offered a hand to Dale, pulling him to his feet. "Right this minute though, I feel something else expanding. Let's go back to the house." He nuzzled Dale's neck. "This grass is nice, but it's a little damp. I want you on your back, in our bed, while I make love to you."

Dale shivered with anticipation. He held out his hand, "Come on." he urged. Together they walked, arm in arm, back to the house.

They were just heading up the stairs when they heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. Rick looked out the window by the front door. It was his dad.

"Oh shit," he whispered, his erection deflating.

From his perch two steps up, Dale asked, "Who is it?"

Rick turned a look filled with uncertainty and anxiety in his direction, "It's my dad."

Dale leapt down the stairs, coming to stand at Rick's side, "He's not armed is he?"

"Dale." Rick admonished.

Dale shrugged, "Well, I don't know him, Rick. I'm just being cautious. Where are you going?"

Rick had opened the front door, unlocked the screen and was preparing to step out, "I have to see what he wants, Dale."

Dale frowned, but finally nodded. "Don't go off the porch. I'm staying right here just in case."

Rick gave him a rueful smile, "All right, mommy."

He walked out on the porch. By that time, his dad had exited his truck and was now mounting the steps, coming to meet him. He stopped a few feet from Rick and uttered one word.

"Son."

Rick answered with a choked, "Daddy?"

His dad nodded, "Come here, boy."

Rick stepped into his arms.

Dale watched them, his eyes filled with tears of relief and happiness. Rick's dad rocked him as
Rick cried, his own eyes bright with tears, a few of which rolled slowly down his tanned, weathered, cheeks.

"I'm sorry son, I'm so sorry." he murmured.

Rick got hold of himself and pulled away, wiping his eyes, "What are you sorry for, Dad? You didn't do anything."

Gerald Hunter shook his head, "I should have defended you. I was just so damned surprised. I never suspected that you had such inclinations, you were always going out with this girl or that one." He heaved a sigh, "I watched for it, I watched your brother too, but I missed it. I didn't know you were like me."

Rick's eyes widened in stunned surprise.

"Can we sit down someplace? We need to have a talk, son."

"Yeah, of course, Dad, come in." He opened the door, letting his dad proceed him. Inside he introduced Dale. "Dad, this is Dale Vaden, my partner."  

Dale's nerves were jittery. He gave Rick a sweet, grateful smile and held out his hand, "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Hunter." he said firmly.

Rick's dad shook his hand without hesitation. "I'm pleased to meet you, Dale, call me Gerald. I wish we were meeting under easier circumstances, but I hope things will get straightened out eventually." He looked around curiously, "You young men wouldn't happen to have a cup of coffee, would you?"

Rick's grin was beatific, "Dad, you sure came to the right place. Wait till you taste Dale's coffee!"

Dale fixed the coffee and they settled at the kitchen table. Gerald took his first sip, a look of surprise and delight spreading over his face. He gave his son a stern look.

"Don't let him get away from you, son. A man could put up with a lot of aggravation for coffee like this."

Dale grinned and blushed, as Rick and Gerald chuckled at his embarrassment.

Gerald sobered, "Your momma's awful sorry she hit you, son. She cried all night, kept saying how she couldn't believe she did that to her baby."

Rick's throat tightened, unable to speak, he nodded. Dale took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Rick grasped his hand firmly, keeping the needed contact. Gerald smiled briefly at their display of comforting unity and affection.

He continued, "She was shocked, Rick. It was like the past had come back to haunt her."

Rick frowned, "What do you mean, Dad?"

"When I was a young man, I discovered I liked not only women, but men as well." He took a deep breath. "I'm bi-sexual, son, just as I suspect you are."

Rick flushed and nodded. It was disconcerting to be ‘outed' by your own father, especially when he confessed similar inclinations. This was a side of his dad, Rick would never have guessed existed.

"When I was eighteen, I had my first sexual experience with a man. I'd been active with girls and enjoyed the hell out of it, but I still found myself drawn now and then to a man. Not anyone in particular, mind you.  It was more like if some good looking guy would catch my eye, I'd wonder what it would be like. I found out. I'm not going into the details, just suffice it to say that sex with women was sweet and hot. Being with a woman made me feel strong and protective, but being with a man was totally different. There's was something wild and primitive about it. It was just pure lust and pleasure with no worries about emotional entanglements."

Gerald wiped at the sweat on his upper lip and grinned, "It's gettin' a little hot in here."

Rick and Dale chuckled, sympathizing with his feelings.

"Anyway," he continued, "After that first time, I felt the itch every few weeks, so I went into Springfield to scratch it. I met your momma when I was 21. We started dating and it wasn't long before I was sure she was the one for me. You see, even though I liked sex with men, I still preferred women. When your mom came along, well, I was sure I could put all that other behind me." He paused, lost momentarily in memories. "Then I met Steve. That man affected me in ways no one ever had before. I was fascinated with him, he was older than me and very experienced. We did things..." He cleared his throat and glanced at his rapt audience, reddening slightly.

"Never mind what we did. What I'm trying to say is, my relationship with Steve began to affect my relationship with your mom. I knew I loved her and didn't want to lose her, so I asked her to marry me. Even after we became engaged, I couldn't break it off with Steve. Your mom began to suspect I was seeing someone and one day she caught us."

"Oh shit," Rick murmured.  

"Oh shit, for real." his dad agreed, "Steve was in town and I called your mom to cancel our date that night, telling her I wasn't feeling well. Like the good woman she is, she brought me chicken soup. Steve and I had just finished up our first round and were fresh out of the shower, both wearing only towels. We were headed for the kitchen and a snack when the doorbell rang. I had this sudden, awful premonition, but before I could warn him not to answer it, Steve opened the door and there stood your mom."

Gerald shook his head, the guilt and remorse of that moment still had the power to disturb, even after so many years. "I'll never forget the look on her face when she saw us. I knew then and there, I'd lost her. She didn't say a word, just turned and walked away. I was in a total panic, I fell apart. I'd never told Steve about your mom. He made me tell him everything. Afterward, he shook his head and told me I was a fool. He said it was obvious where my heart was and if I didn't get my head out of my ass, I was going to regret it for the rest of my life."

Tears filled Gerald's eyes, "To this day, I still love that man. Not in the way I love your mom, son," he added as Rick seemed about to protest. "But Steve was a good man, totally unselfish and giving. I never saw him again after that day. I hope and pray he's had a good life, he deserves it. He surely saved mine. I was able to patch things up with your mom and I vowed to her I'd never be unfaithful again. It's a promise I've kept, even though it was damned hard."

He gave both young men an uncompromising look, "That's something you'll find out. The male animal isn't built for fidelity. More than likely, at some point, you'll be tempted to stray, no matter how much you love each other. But take my advice, you'd better think long and hard about what you're putting at risk for a little physical pleasure."

Rick and Dale squirmed like guilty schoolboys under his fierce regard. "We'll remember what you said, Dad," Rick assured him. "So, what happens now? Is Mom prepared to accept Dale?"

Gerald shook his head, "Not yet son, but I'm working on her. She loves you. I know, given time, she'll accept your decision. Like I said, all this just brought back the past. It's quite a blow for a woman to face infidelity from the man she loves, but to face what she did was doubly hard. Your mom has a lot of strength and character, you know that son, and she's fair. She's never had a bad word to say about gay men and relationships. If anyone could have worked up fear and hate on that subject, she certainly had cause to, but she didn't give in to it."

"Give it time, Rick, just give it time." Gerald sighed and pushed his chair back, standing, "So, have you two been making any plans? Dale, I don't even know what you do for a living. Are you going to be able to take good care of my son?" he teased.   

Rick grinned as Dale rolled his eyes, "Now I know where Rick gets it from"

They all laughed as they walked out on the front porch. Rick explained to his dad, their plans for the trip to New York and the reason.  

Gerald shook his head in mock resignation, "Son you're just one surprise after another. It wouldn't surprise me now if you turned up pregnant. If any man could do it, you could. And, if that happens," he turned a warning eye to Dale, "I'll be down here with a preacher and a shot gun."  




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 03



He reached out a hand to Dale, who took it, "Oh hell," he muttered, and pulled Dale in for a hug.
"Son, you take good care of my boy." He released Dale and drew Rick in. "And you look after this man, I plan to be down here on a regular basis for that coffee, make sure you lay in a good supply."

"I will Dad." Rick replied, happiness squeezing his heart. It was a good feeling.

Gerald walked down the steps and stopped, turning back to look at them. "It's going to be all right boys, you mark my words. It's going to be all right." 

He made his way to his truck, jumped in and with a wave, headed down the road.

Dale and Rick returned the wave and entered the house. They turned to face each other and came together in a rush, holding each other tight.

Rick laughed, "He's right, you know, it's just like our song, it's gonna be all right."

Dale smiled, "Right now, I feel like the luckiest man alive, except for one thing." he ran a teasing hand over Rick's groin, "I believe you owe me something."

Rick took Dale's hand and led him upstairs, "Come on babe, I never go back on my word. And you know? I feel another bout of, Milk the Cow, coming on."

"Aw, shit." Dale cursed. He pulled at Rick's hand, trying to get away.

Rick kept a firm hold and circled his arm around Dale's waist, leading him into the bedroom,
"Come on Bossy, come give daddy some cream."

"Rick!!"

Rick's laughter filled the room as he shut the door behind them.



The Farmer & Dale Ch. 04



Humid, steamy heat filled the bathroom. Water streamed from multiple shower heads, pulsing against firmly muscled bodies. Bodies, naked, slippery and wet that moved together with hypnotic rhythm. A guttural groan echoed in the glass enclosed grotto. 

Dale groaned again. Pressed against the shower wall, arms braced, breath heaving, he welcomed each slow, deep, invasive thrust of Rick's thick, vein-wrapped cock as it filled him. 

Rick's heated murmurs filled his ears. "Ah God, babe, you're so tight, so hot. Take me in, Dale. Yeah baby, take me in. Take me in, lover. Don't let me go."

Dale tightened his sphincter, holding onto Rick through each withdrawal. The sensation was exquisite. Rick had used some ultra slippery lube to prepare Dale, with the result that each movement was a hot, silky-smooth glide. His chute welcomed the thick, burning invasion, protesting the outward movement, seeking to hold that hot, solid mass within. 

He felt pierced to his very core. Taken, pillaged, claimed. Loved. Each piercing thrust was a physical symbol of their commitment, each to the other. Rick's arms held him firmly, his hands caressing, arousing, driving Dale to the limits of his endurance. Eyes tightly shut, he wore a grimace of determined effort on his face. He fought to hold back his orgasm. Fought for every second of pleasure, every second of this precious joining.

Rick shifted. A slight bend of the knees, a tiny change in the angle of his entry brought his cock firmly against Dales nut with spectacular result. Dale's groans turned to frantic cries of agonized pleasure. His mind shredded. Any coherent thought fled as pure sensation pierced his gut. Rick's tempo increased. His words of praise, love and encouragement, deteriorated to grunts of effort as he de-evolved from modern thinking man into a primitive creature of instinct with but one need. To fuck, to breed one's mate. 

Short staccato thrusts punched Dale's prostate again and again, the pleasure shocking, debilitating in its intensity. The first touch of Rick's hand on his rock hard cock triggered the explosion. Thick shots of hot cream splattered against the shower wall as he roared out his release. He felt the heated rush of Rick's seed fill him. The intense pleasure gathered in his gut, twisting, eviscerating him with sensation. 

Rick's own guttural shout joined Dale's as he shot his load deep within the hot welcoming depths of his lover. Dale had tightened on Rick's cock to a near painful degree, milking his hard pulsing shaft. Rick thrust deep and held on, hips straining with hard, pumping undulations that echoed each rocketing burst of cum. Completely buried and flush against his lover, his buttocks flexed as he filled Dale and felt the backwash of his cum as it leaked from the tight seal of their joining, soaking his bush.

They rested for long moments, no words spoken as they recovered. The water continued to pelt their skin, soothing, easing muscles that moments before had been taut with effort.

Rick began the long, slow retreat, dragging his still semi-solid length from Dale's body. His movement drew a weak groan, a quiver and a few errant drops of cum from Dale. Rick smiled weakly. He felt overwhelming pride and satisfaction from having so well pleasured his mate.

"Come here baby." he murmured. 

Turning a dazed and compliant Dale into the spray, he gently washed the remnants of their mutual release from Dale's body and then from his own. Rick shut off the water and directed a slowly rousing Dale out of the shower. With brisk but tender movements he dried Dale and was pleasantly surprised when Dale revived sufficiently to return the favor. 

Dale rubbed the towel over Rick's face and hair. He dropped it around his shoulders and placed his hands on Rick's cheeks. Cupping his face, he leaned in for a kiss. One hand slid around to the back of Rick's neck, holding him, as the other hand continued to softly pet the stubbled skin of his face. His tongue delved between Rick's lips and slid inside. Swirling slowly, tangling with careful, sensual deliberation with Rick's tongue, Dale reveled in the heady, unique flavor that was Rick. 

Their warm, damp bodies melded together, Rick's arms circling Dale, pulling him in. Cocks so recently well used, stirred and thickened only slightly. Eventually, Dale eased back, his eyes, intense green pools, meeting the almost dazed blue-green of Rick's. 

"I love you, Rick Hunter." he murmured softly. 

Rick's smile was angelic, "I love you more, Dale Vaden," he answered, "Come to bed."

Dale chuckled softly, "I don't think I have the stuff to go another round"

"Is sex all you ever think about, babe?" Rick teased. He pulled Dale with him into the bedroom of their hotel room. Pulling down the comforter, blanket and sheet, he urged Dale in.

"What do you say to some room service and a movie?" Rick asked as he settled next to him.

Following their plan to take a trip to New York City, Dale and Rick had made the arrangements. Deciding to take things at a leisurely pace, they opted for late flights. The trip began at Capitol airport in Springfield in the a.m. and ended at JFK at 9:15 p.m. Tired from the trip, and the endless, yet necessary, airport security, they arrived at their destination, The Four Seasons, in the heart of Manhattan.

They'd decided to stay in for the remainder of the evening. Tomorrow would see them playing tourist, taking in the sights of New York. Rick looked forward to the day with great anticipation. He wanted to see everything. The Statue of Liberty, Central Park, the Empire State Building and even Ground Zero, though he knew that would be a sad and sobering experience. 

Dale had laughed when Rick told him of his plans, but seeing his partners enthusiasm, he soon waded in and they were planning several days of tourist activities. In the midst of their fun, they had a scheduled meeting with Dale's agent. Sarah Anscotti, had assured Dale that she was very interested in reading Rick's work. Dale was an important client, his work and opinion well respected. Dale's publishing company had been informed of his visit and contacted him. They were throwing a party one evening while he was in town and invited him and whomever he wished to bring with him. 

Dale's visit coincided with the signing of another client whose books the publishing company was very excited about. In addition, they had just signed a very lucrative deal with two international and well known book chains. The publishing company was having a celebration. The owner of the company himself, a charming, older man that Dale had met several times, was putting in an appearance with his partner.

"He's one of us?" Rick had questioned, when Dale told him about the party 

"Oh yeah. You'll like him. Steven Eddington, he's very sophisticated yet down to earth. He and his partner are very open about their relationship. His partner, James Duncan, is a lawyer. His firm handles all the legal business for the publishing company. They're partners in every sense of the word. They don't paw each other in public, but you can feel the love between them. It's how I see us years from now."

This confession had struck Rick straight to the heart. He'd pulled Dale with him to the sofa in the living room and cuddled with him, kissing and caressing him until the two of them were so hot they'd made love on the living room floor. Knowing that Dale loved him so much, that he envisioned them together all their lives, gave Rick such a feeling of warmth and security. He'd shuddered with the joy of it, the overwhelming rightness of it, giving of himself without hesitation.

Rick had truly and completely lost his heart to Dale. Dale for his part was every bit as committed. Any fears they had were completely laid to rest as daily, they meshed and melded, physically, mentally and emotionally.

Now in their hotel room, the adventure having begun, Dale agreed to the movie and together, giggling and teasing each other like children, they put together a feast to be delivered by room service. 

When the food arrived, Rick donned a hotel robe to let the bellman in. After a whispered conversation, the young man left and returned ten minutes later, handing Rick a can of spray whipped topping. Rick gave him a generous tip and a wink that sent him on his way with a pleased blush.

"Just what do you think you're going to do with that?" Dale asked with mock severity.

"I happen to like whipped cream on my fruit." Rick answered, his expression completely innocent as he indicated the large bowl of freshly sliced strawberries, peaches, bananas, grapes, and apples.

Dale raised an eyebrow, "Remarks like that can get you thrown out of the organization, you know."

"What?" Rick dead panned, "I wasn't talking about you, babe. But now that you mention it..."

Dale smiled, "Maybe later, I'm hungry for food right now. We're not going to let all this go to waste are we?"

"Hell no!" Rick grinned.

They paged through the available movies and settled on Pirates of the Caribbean, both agreeing that Johnny Depp was hot little piece.

As they watched, they devoured their feast, both starving as they'd declined any food aboard the airplane. Partway through the movie, they finished their meal and settled back to watch, sitting propped against the pillows. Rick wrapped an arm around Dale's waist and snuggled in, his head resting in the hollow of Dale's shoulder. Dale's chin rubbed the top of his head, the movement bringing a soft contented smile to Rick's lips.

As the movie neared its conclusion, Rick slipped out of Dale's arms and retrieved the bowl of fruit, bringing it and the whipped cream back to bed. He sprayed the whipped cream over the fruit and the two of them fed each other bites of fluff-covered fruit, chuckling as juice and cream smeared their fingers and dribbled down their chins when they tried to stuff too much into their mouths. 

Rick ‘accidently' dropped a slice of peach in Dale's lap and went searching for it. His search, had Dale moaning as the slippery piece of peach slid over his growing erection. Finally capturing the errant piece of fruit, Rick fed it to Dale. Declining the use of a napkin, he began to clean the juice from Dale with his tongue, an action that sent Dale back against the pillows with a groan. 

Dale felt a cool foamy weight against his skin and looked down to see Rick decorating his groin with whipped cream. He groaned, smiling as Rick placed pieces of fruit in the rich cream and proceeded to eat his creation. By the time he'd finished, Dale was twisting and bucking under him, his cock a throbbing mass of sensation. 

He sat up and took the whipped cream from Rick, "I need some of this dessert too." he explained to a grinning Rick. Rick, who had whipped cream dotted and smeared on his smiling face, was a sight that made Dale laugh.

Dale proceeded to design his own elaborate concoction of fruit and whipped cream, using Rick's body as his plate. Then he began to feast. His tongue swirled in the sweet cream, the taste of Rick's skin mixing with that of whipped cream and various sweet, mellow and tangy fruits. His mouth eventually made it to the tip of Rick's full erection which was leaking a sweet, honeyed liquid of it's own. Dale growled as he sucked in the unique flavor of his lover. 

His mouth slid down the hot, solid length, his lips relishing the feel of the velvety smooth skin that covered the thick pulsing shaft that slid slowly over his tongue. Dale growled again, unable to contain the sheer animal satisfaction of having his mates cock so intimately, orally a part of him. He felt Rick's hands on his body, striving to move him. He growled a protest, holding tighter to his prize until he realized Rick's intension. He moved then, positioning himself over Rick, feeling his own fully erect penis engulfed in heated warmth. 

A guttural groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating in his throat and mouth, transmitting to the slippery piece of meat he sucked at. Rick echoed his groan, the vibrations returning, sending quivers through Dale's tightening groin. He began to earnestly work Rick, sucking, laving and stroking with mouth and tongue. 

Eyes closed, constant groans working their way into his mouth, he held on to his prize, lost in the silky glide of the thick column that filled his mouth. His own cock was near to bursting. Rick's groans sent a steady stream of shocking vibration through his cock, into his balls and up his spine. With a muffled roar, Dale released, his cock shooting thick spurts of cream down Rick's throat and into his mouth. Rick's own release followed immediately and Dale swallowed each spray of hot man-juice finding it sweeter that any whipped cream.  

Drained, they released each other with slow gentle licks. Rick moved around and crawled up to Dale. Dale began to laugh weakly at the sight. Rick's face was still smeared with whipped cream which had somehow made it's way into his hair, part of which was standing on end.

Rick too began to laugh. Dale put a hand to his own face coming away with whipped cream. The two of them clung to each other, laughing hysterically at the crazy picture they presented. Finally sobering, they stumbled into the bathroom for a quick wash in the shower.

The bed, amazingly enough, had suffered very little damage beyond being rumpled as hell. They returned everything to the room service cart and Dale wheeled it out their door as Rick began straightening the bed. The movie was long since over and they shut off the television, settling into bed with satisfied sighs.

"I'll never forget my first night in New York." Rick murmured with a sleepy chuckle.

Dale snorted. "I just wish we had pictures. Your hair was blackmail material for the next ten years."

Rick gave Dale a slight pinch on the butt, causing Dale to jump. He pulled him back, spooning himself tightly against Dale, "You don't have to blackmail me, babe. Just keep treating me the way you do and I'll give you everything I have."

Dale wiggled contentedly against Rick, "Same here love, same here."

Sleep gently swooped in to claim them.

                      *           *           *

Waking late, Dale and Rick ate a leisurely breakfast before donning casual clothes and comfortable shoes. They wandered out of the hotel and onto the busy streets of New York. Rick was awed by the tall buildings, all the people and the bustle. Dale urged him along as Rick shook his head in wonder of it. It was all very different and exciting, but after breathing in a lung-full of exhaust laden air he knew that this was not a place he would choose to live. Still, this visit was proving to be an education in itself.

They visited Grand Central Station and ate lunch there. They rode the Staten Island Ferry and visited the Statue of Liberty. The Empire State Building was also inspected and admired with appropriate awe. Slowly they made their way through Rick's list, returning gratefully to the hotel at days end. Both were exhausted. After a quick shower and a meal delivered by room service, they fell into bed and immediately succumbed to sleep.

Their second day they agreed to slow the pace and found they enjoyed themselves more. They visited the Museum of Natural History and spent several hours, fascinated by the exhibits. After lunch they went to Central Park and took a leisurely stroll. Time's Square and Rockefeller Center got equal attention. By the end of the day, they were able to enjoy a wonderful dinner at a small Italian restaurant and returned to the hotel to make love. A more satisfactory end to the days activities. 

Their third day was to be devoted to pleasure of a different kind. They lounged around the hotel until mid-morning, then met with Dale's agent, Sarah. She turned out to be a dark-haired, well- groomed, no-nonsense woman in her 40's who, after reading through some of Rick's work, pronounced it excellent, with great potential. She asked Rick if he had any ideas for a longer work, to which he replied in the affirmative. She urged him to write his manuscript and then send it to her.

"Rick, you should know, and Dale will back me up on this," Sarah told him, "I hold to some very high standards. I wouldn't care if you were married to the President of the United States, although that would be a hell of a drawing card, but if your work is not up to my standards, I won't represent you. I won't embarrass either of us by trying to get shoddy, sub-standard work published. Even if your partner is my best client."

"I've already told Rick that, Sarah. And truly," Dale added with a smile, "we appreciate your candor." 

Rick nodded his agreement, "I don't want to ride on Dale's coat-tails. If my writing doesn't stand on its own, then it doesn't stand."

Sarah smiled and nodded, "From what I've seen here," she indicated Rick's binder of short stories, "your work is going to stand very well. It may even do some marching." she added with a grin.

Both men laughed and they rose, both shaking the hand Sarah held out to them, agreeing that they would see each other later at the publishing house party that evening.

As they hit the street, Rick let out a sigh, "Wow, she doesn't pull her punches, does she?" 

"Nope." Dale agreed, "That's why I like her, she tells you the truth, lets you know where you stand. She doesn't try to build your ego. If you're good she lets you know, if you're slacking, she lets you know that too."

"This is a whole ‘nuther ball game' isn't it?" Rick commented. "I'm sure glad you're here, city boy."

Dale smiled, touched at Rick's sudden vulnerability. "I'll always be here for you, babe. You know that don't you?"

Rick paused and gazed into Dale's eyes. "I do know that." He looked around at the people who bustled by them in the street. "I so much want to kiss you right now. Can we go back to the hotel?"

"Oh yeah, my pleasure, lover." Dale stepped to the curb and hailed a cab.

                     *           *            *

Later that evening Dale and Rick drew many an appreciative glance to outright stares as they walked through the lobby of their hotel on the way to the party being thrown by Dale's publisher. Dressed casually in trousers, simple tees and blazers they were a very handsome duo.

Arriving at the party, they again drew the attention of many of those in the room. Dale, of course, was well known to the publishing house staff. They were immediately approached by Steven Eddington's assistant and made to feel welcome. He explained that Steven and James were running a bit late, but that they would be there soon. 

Sarah was there and so they began their rounds of socializing, and chit chat. Many seemed eager to approach Dale, who with Rick at his side, was soon drawn into discussions of books and the publishing house's new deal. Rick excused himself to obtain drinks for himself and Dale. 

He was approached by a very good looking man, Greg Jamison, an executive vice president of the company. Dale glanced in their direction. Noting their conversation and thinking nothing of it, he returned to his own. Five minutes later, Steven Eddington and James Duncan arrived. Steven and James greeted guest after guest as they made their way to Dale. Rick had not yet returned. 

Dale gave them a welcoming smile as the two men approached. He genuinely liked this older couple, admiring not only their professionalism but the way they handled their personal life. He'd been quite sincere when he told Rick that this was what he envisioned for them.

Steven was a tall, distinguished looking man with silvery hair and rim-less glasses. At 58, he wore his age very well. James was several inches shorter, his hair dark, with silver at the temples. His intense blue eyes seemed to take in everything. Both men were well and fashionably dressed, exuding understated wealth and taste.




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 04



Finally they were able to come within speaking range. Steven held out his hand, "Dale, it's good to see you again, I'm hearing great things from Sarah about the new book."

Dale shook Steven's hand, "I can always count on Sarah to build me up. Of course that's just good policy. Gets us more money from you guys." he said with a laugh, "James," he shook the other man's hand, "How have you been?"

James Duncan gave Dale a smile, "Tolerable, Dale, tolerable. I have my hands full trying to keep this guy out of litigation."

Steven's brow rose. "Now James..."

James cut him off, "Oh no, don't start, this is a party. We are not going to discuss legal matters."

"You, my dear, started it." Steven told him, assuming an offended air.

"You're absolutely right. I apologize. Forgive me?" James teased, a charming smile lighting his face. 

Steven returned the smile, the air between the two of them shimmered with their mutual love and affection. 

Steven pulled Dale into their play, "You see what I have to put up with?"

Dale grinned, "Oh yeah, I'd say you were pretty lucky too." Over Steven's shoulder, he could see Rick approaching with their drinks. "Speaking of luck, I'd like you to meet my partner." He indicated Rick who had stopped behind them. 

Both men turned, Steven's face filling with astonished disbelief, "Oh my God. Gerald?" He reached out for James' hand, James immediately coming to his side. He shook his head, pulling himself together, "No, you couldn't possibly be." he murmured.

Dale stepped forward, a confused look on his face. "Steven, James, I'd like you to meet Rick Hunter. Rick, this is Steven Eddington and James Duncan."

Rick handed one of the drinks to Dale, freeing his hand which he offered first to James and then to Steven. "I'm very pleased to meet you both." His gaze turned to Steven, "Did you call me Gerald? Because Gerald is my dad's name. I'm told I look just like him."

The surprise and confusion left Steven's eyes, replaced with comprehension. "Gerald's son, that explains it. My God, you do look just like him. Exactly the way he looked the last time I saw him."

Rick and Dale made eye contact, astonished comprehension filling their eyes, "Steven, Steve. You're Steve, the man my dad told us about." Rick's own eyes were filled with disbelief, "I can't believe this!"

"Rick, Dale, could we adjourn to Steven's office? It looks like we have some things to discuss." James suggested.

With nods of agreement, they made their way out of the party and up two floors to Steven's office. James offered drinks, which were declined in favor of discussion.

Steven began, "Your father told you about me?"

Rick nodded, "I ‘came out' to my parents not long ago. I'm bi, something my parents weren't aware of. When I met Dale, well I didn't have any choice. I knew he was the one I'd been waiting for." Sitting beside Dale on a leather sofa, he reached for and held his hand. Dale gave him a smile filled with love.

Steven smiled, his own hand reaching for James who was perched on the arm of the chair Steven sat in. He stared at their linked hands and then into James' eyes, a silent message passing between them.

He turned to Rick, "I loved your father, Rick. I don't know how much he told you about us, but I loved him. I think he was beginning to feel the same for me, but there was someone there before me. Your mother."

Rick nodded, swallowing hard at this gentle confession.

"When your mother discovered us, I had no idea that your dad was engaged to be married. He never told me, never let on." James squeezed Steven's hand, reassurance and love conveyed in that simple act. "Gerald was devastated. I knew then that the only right thing for me to do was to back away. Gerald was so obviously in love with your mother, and even though I felt that he was coming to love me... I, well, I."

Steven stopped speaking, emotion closing his throat. James wound an arm around him.

"I understand." Rick spoke, his own voice husky with emotion, "Dad understood too. He told us that you were the most unselfish and giving man he'd ever known and that you told him to follow his heart or that he'd regret it for the rest of his life." Rick captured Steven's gaze, "He said he loved you, that you were a good man and that he hoped you had a good life because no one deserved it more."

Steven nodded, tears in his eyes, unable to speak. They waited in silence until he was able to get hold of his emotions, "You've no idea what those words mean to me. At the time it seemed like the end of the world, but things worked out for the best. I found this man," he returned James' hug, "I couldn't be happier."

Rick and Dale nodded in understanding, their own love making it clear to them just what Steven and James shared. 

"What about your father, Rick, has he been happy?" Steven asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so. I've got a brother and two sisters. Mom and dad have seven grandchildren. But more than that... our home was always filled with laughter and good feelings. You could feel the love my parents had for each other and still have for each other."

"Wonderful," Steven pronounced, smiling. "And how did they take the news about you and Dale?"

Rick looked at Dale who nodded, "Mom wasn't real happy about it, to say the least, but dad thinks she'll come around. Dad was shocked at first, I never let them see that I had any interested in men." Rick ducked his head sheepishly, a slight blush heating his cheeks.

The other three men chuckled in sympathy at his discomfort. Rick's patented grin made its appearance, "Dad's in our corner now, he says every things going to be all right. I believe him." Rick stated with simple conviction. He gave Dale a shining smile, squeezing his hand.

"Well, I'd say things have worked out well for everyone concerned. What say we return to the party? Our absence is probably causing all kinds of speculation." James rose, Steven with him.

Steven approached Rick, "If you want, you can tell your dad that you saw me and that I'm living that happy life he wished for me. Tell him I'm glad to know that his life has been all he wished it to be. He's a very lucky man. Just as I am." His gaze connected with James'. 

"I'll do that Steven," Rick paused, "Oh hell." He wrapped his arms around Steven and gave him a hearty hug. Stepping back he grinned, "I feel like I just met family."

Steven laughed heartily. "You're a good man, Rick. Gerald's a lucky man to have a son like you. Come on men, lets rejoin the party."

With much good will and good feeling they returned to the party. 

Dale and Rick were soon separated as they again began to mingle with the crowd. At one point Dale found Rick, noting with a frown that Greg Jamison had again captured Rick's attention and company. He sent glances in their direction from time to time, feeling a sense of relief when Greg left the room. His stomach dropped when a few moments later, Rick followed in his wake. 

Dale felt a darkness open in his soul as fear and uncertainty poured in. Surely Rick wouldn't...he thought to himself, struggling to make the negative thoughts in his head go away. Still, his experience with Tony made it hard not to feel the insecurity. As he struggled with his feelings, he was unaware of James' scrutiny. 

James approached Dale and gently took him aside, "Are you all right Dale?", he asked.

Dale shook his head, not knowing what to say, how to express his emotional turmoil.

"Your fears are groundless, Dale. Rick loves you. In fact, here he comes now." James nodded in Rick's direction. 

Dale turned quickly, relief leaving him mute, tears stinging his eyes. He gave James a grateful smile and watched him retreat, turning to greet Rick with stricken eyes.

Rick took one look and was instantly at his side, "What's wrong babe? Are you all right?"

Dale again shook his head, "Can we go?" he murmured.

"Of course we can. Come on love." Rick gently took Dale's arm and steered him through the crowd, making their excuses, telling anyone who asked that they were tired from their sightseeing and needed to rest.

He caught Steven's eye. Steven nodded his understanding, his look sympathetic yet encouraging. Dale was hurting. Rick didn't know exactly what was going on, but he intended to find out.

The doorman got them a cab, their trip quick and silent. Rick held Dale's hand, his thumb rubbing soothingly over his knuckles. They made their way through the lobby and up the elevator without speaking. On reaching their room Rick swiped the lock with the key card and drew Dale into the room and into his arms.

"Damn, I thought we'd never get here. What's wrong, baby? Tell me." Rick murmured as he rocked Dale. 

Dale's arms tightened as he whispered a muffled, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what, babe?" Rick question, genuinely puzzled.

Dale pulled away, "I doubted you. I saw you leave the room after Greg Jamison and I...I."

Understanding lit Rick's eyes, "You thought I was going to what, get a quick piece of ass in the mens room or in some deserted office? Greg offered, Dale. I turned him down. I did go to the bathroom. Alone." Hurt shadowed Rick's eyes, "I love you Dale, I wouldn't do that to you."

"I know!" Dale wailed, "In my heart I know that, but I kept thinking about what happened with Tony and I... I got scared." He reached out for Rick. "I'm so sorry, Rick. Please, please baby, forgive me."

Rick let his hard gaze rest on Dale for a moment, then he softened, "Come here," he commanded, pulling Dale into his arms. 

Dale shuddered with relief, burrowing into Rick's arms, pressing himself tightly against Rick. Rick tightened his arms, "I understand, babe, I really do. I know you were hurt and I didn't help matters by what I did to you." His hands rubbed Dale's back with long soothing strokes, "But you've got to learn to trust me, Dale. Trust me when I say I love you, and that I'll never leave you."

Dale sighed, "I'm trying, Rick. You help me by showing me everyday how much you love me."

Rick nodded, he pulled back, "Good. Because... I'm about to trust you with something. Something I've wanted, but never trusted anyone with. Until you."

Dale frowned and cocked his head, "What is it angel?" 

Suddenly nervous, Rick took a deep breath, "I want you to make love to me, Dale." 

Astonished comprehension lit Dale's eyes. "You mean you want..?"

"Yeah, I want you inside me," Rick admitted. "I've always been a top. I never felt the need to be fucked. Whenever I thought about it, there was never anyone I wanted to be with in that way. Until you, Dale. I want you to truly make me yours. I don't want us to be stuck in some role that we play. You're not my wife, you're my partner, my lover, in every sense of the word. We're equals." 

Dale nodded, a warm and loving smile gracing his face.

Rick frowned and bit his lip, "Um, you have done this before, haven't you?" he asked uncertainly.

Dale laughed, "Yeah, I've done it before." He approached Rick and circled round him. "I've had some thoughts about this beauty." His hands ran over Rick's taut ass. "You just never seemed interested in changing the status quo and I really didn't have any complaints." He continued his circle, coming round to face Rick. "Don't worry, babe, I can handle it." he spoke with sure confidence.

Dale left Rick standing in the middle of the room and picked up the phone He spoke with the front desk, asking to be connected with the airport. Once connected, he made arrangements for the quickest flight out. Finished, he turned to find a frowning Rick.


"What are you doing? I thought we we're going to make love."

Dale went to Rick and took him in his arms, kissing him with sultry, heated, passion until Rick moaned. Dale pulled back, "You think I'm doing something this important in a hotel room? Not on you're life, babe. We're going home. I'm going to pluck your cherry in our bed." Dale chuckled at Rick's sudden blush and smacked his ass, "Now get packed, our plane leaves in two hours."

To be continued...



The Farmer & Dale Ch. 05



In the dimly lit passenger cabin, Rick fidgeted in his seat. It seemed to him, that the flight home was taking forever. 

"Settle down, babe. It won't be long now." Dale reprimanded lightly.

Rick sighed, "I know, it's just that..."

"You're horny?" Dale suggested with smile. He laid his hand on Rick's thigh and slid it slowly inward and upward. 

"Jeez, Dale!" Rick tensed under his hand, sitting rigidly upright, "If you don't stop that I'm going to... ohhh damn," he groaned softly. Rick's eyes closed, his breaths shortening as Dale lightly, but firmly massaged his rapidly filling cock. "Oh fuck, oh yeah," he whispered. Rick strove to keep still, but his buttocks tightened, his hips pushing up, grinding his erection into the welcome friction Dale provided. 

"Easy, baby." Dale whispered. "Not yet, lover, not yet." Dale withdrew his hand.

Rick ground his teeth together, his jaw flexing. Opening his eyes he gave Dale what he hoped was a scorching glare, "You better cut it out, Dale. I'm warning you now. If you get me any more riled up we'll be joining the mile high club. And I won't be filling out the application in the bathroom."

Dale grinned and chuckled, "I'm sorry, babe, the thought of your sweet, tight, virgin, little ass is driving me nuts."

Rick flushed, and looked around. Thankfully the seats in first class weren't squashed together. "Would you shut up!" he whispered urgently. This new aspect of Dale's behavior, this sudden dominance was causing some very new feeling for Rick to deal with. He felt off balance, almost jittery.

"Nobody's listening, Rick." Dale drew his fingertips over Rick's cheek. "I like the way you blush. It's sweet, angel."

"Damn." Rick cursed softly, shaking his head, "You've got me feeling like a virgin on her wedding night. You'd think I'd never had sex before.

"Well, in a way, you haven't." Dale told him, "Not like this." he took Rick's hand, lifting it to his lips, lightly kissing, then stroking his tongue over the knuckles. "Don't worry, baby, Daddy's gonna take care of everything."

Rick squeezed his eyes shut as another blush heated his face. A hot tingle twisted his gut with anticipation and uncertainty. "Well, shit." he sighed, "You're making me crazy."

"That's the idea, lover." Dale flashed him a soft, knowingly smug smile. 

Rick, giving Dale a frowning smile, pouted silently, saying nothing.

* * *

Dale's black Lexus turned into the gravel drive, tires crunching over the stone. He parked by the front walk, and they got out, both stretching, sighing with the pleasurable relief of being home. They smiled at each other over the top of the car and headed to the trunk, pulling out bags, and hauling them to the porch. 

Rick watched patiently as Dale found his key, fitting it into the lock. A quiver tightened his stomach as he watched Dale's long fingers turn the key. His sphincter tightened at the thought of those sleek, tapered digits working him open. He swallowed hard, holding onto the groan building in his throat.

They shuffled the bags inside and Dale closed the door. As he turned, Rick wrapped his arms around him and began kissing him. His kiss was hard, desperate, needy. Dale groaned, and opened for Rick's probing tongue. Their bodies slammed together. Dale reached down, grasping the cheeks of Rick's ass, grinding together the thick bulges that filled their jeans. 

Dale met Rick's need and took control, shoving his tongue into Rick's mouth, exploring, laving, eating his essence, until Rick was moaning with the exquisite pleasure of it. Dale firmly kneaded the taut cheeks under his hands.

He broke the kiss, "Upstairs." he ordered. 

Rick obeyed without question.

In the bedroom, Rick toed off his shoes and reached for his shirt, intent on undoing the buttons, until Dale stopped him, "My show, lover. Just stand there a minute."

Rick watched, his breath picking up speed as Dale undressed. Each item set aside, slowly revealed the body that Rick had come to love. Dale was all sleek, tanned, muscle. Fair and firm. Rick was dying to touch, especially when Dale slid out of his jeans and briefs, revealing the hard throbbing length of his cock. 

To Rick's wide-eyed gaze, Dale's cock seemed to have grown larger than he remembered. The plump, blushing head was full and ripe, the stalk long and thick. As he stared, it quivered with anticipation, a gleaming pearl of precum appearing at the tip, growing larger until it became tear-shaped and slid with lazy grace over reddened, silky skin, leaving a gleaming trail behind. 

Rick groaned, moistening his lips in anticipation of tasting that dewy drop. 

Dale had other ideas. He pulled back the covers on the bed and sat down, swinging his legs in, and propping his back against the head board. He smiled, his eyes sultry, yet teasing, "Strip for me. Slowly." 

Rick paused for a moment then returned Dale's smile. He bent down, removing one sock. Turning he bent to remove the other, giving Dale a wonderful view of his ass, stretched taut under hugging denim.

"Beautiful." Dale whispered.

Rick turned his head to see Dale's gaze fastened on his ass. His smile became a grin. He stood and turned again, facing Dale. Clearing his face, he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His object was to drive Dale crazy with need. He had no idea that Dale was about to turn the tables on him.

"That's right, lover, nice and slow. You have such a beautiful body, Rick. I going to run my tongue over every inch of your skin until you're squirming and begging me to fuck you."

Rick's eyes widened and he swallowed convulsively. Reaching the last button above his jeans, he pulled his shirt tails up and out, undoing the last button and letting his shirt fall open. All the while he watched Dale, his breath coming harder and harder. 

"Take the shirt off Rick, let me see that hard-muscled chest." Dale ordered softly, he reached for his cock and began to slowly stroke himself.

Rick groaned at the sight, his own cock jumping, straining for release from the confines of his jeans. He pulled his shirt open, the fabric sweeping lightly across his nipples, causing them to bead and harden. The shirt dropped to the floor.

"Oh yeah, babe, look at those sweet little nipples, so hard and ready. I can't wait to get them in my mouth. I want run my tongue over them and get them nice and wet before I start nibbling and sucking them."

"Damn, Dale, I need you to touch me." Rick panted.

"Not yet, angel. Show me the rest, sweetheart." Dale continued to slowly work his rigid staff.

Rick opened the buttons on his jeans and began pushing them and his briefs down.

"Just the jeans, babe. One thing at time." Dale instructed.

Rick cursed softly, but did as he was told. He stepped out of his jeans and dropped them to the floor with his shirt. He stood, his briefs tented by the thick bulge of his cock as it strained against the material. A warm, wet circle formed on the front where the head was leaking precum at an alarming rate. 

"Come here." Dale ordered, his voice husky, alluring.

Rick moved eagerly forward to stand as close to the bed as he could. Dale leaned forward and buried his nose in Rick's groin, taking in the pungent, potent scent of his lover. His tongue slipped out, working over the wet patch on Rick's briefs, massaging the needy flesh under it. Rick squeezed his eyes shut, a groan rumbling from his throat.

Dale's hands came up, fingers sliding under the waistband of Rick's briefs, peeling them over his erection which was so hard and full it slapped against his stomach as it leaped free. Rick groaned again in anticipation. He felt the warmth of Dale's breath against his cock.

"That is so amazingly beautiful." Dale whispered against Rick's skin. His tongue slid slowly over the swollen head, spreading and tasting the sweet honey of Rick's precum. 

Rick felt his knees begin to buckle as he moaned. Dale's hands supported him. "Baby, take off the briefs and lay down here with me."

Legs shaking, Rick obeyed, sighing gratefully as he stretched out on the bed. Dale bent over him, smiling, "To much, babe?"

Rick shook his head in the negative. "I just need you so badly it hurts. Please, Dale, do something."

Dale nodded, "I want you to close your eyes, babe. I want you to think of your favorite fantasy, and I want you to touch yourself. I want to watch you come. Can you do that for me?" he questioned softly.

Rick nodded, "You know this isn't going to take long don't you? I feel like one touch is all I need to explode."

"I know," Dale replied, "I want you to get off once before I make love to you. I want it to last for us. I want to make this something you'll never forget."

"What about you?" Rick asked.

"Don't worry about me," Dale smiled, "I have a plan."

Rick returned Dale's smile, "Now?" he asked.

Dale nodded, "Now."

Rick closed his eyes. He began to reach for his swollen, aching cock and felt Dale's hand capture his. Surprised, he began to open his eyes until he felt the cool touch of lube against his skin. He smiled and wrapped his slippery fingers around himself. Slowly he began stroking, images filling his head as his need rose. Rick threw his head back against the pillow groaning and panting, his hips straining, pushing his begging flesh between the firm pressure of his encircling fingers and hand.

Dale watched, fascinated by Rick's display. He was struck anew with the sheer animal magnetism, power and beauty of his lover. Rick's skin shone with moisture. His muscles bunched and flexed. Each move was the sheer, aching poetry that only the human body could produce. Love and desire swelled in his chest as he felt tears gather in his eyes. To be witness to such magic, to know that this man entrusted him with his body, his love, happiness and welfare was a gift that humbled him and yet filled him with strength. Dale knew he'd take on the world for Rick and that Rick would do the same for him. It was nothing short of a miracle.  

Rick's movements became shorter, tighter, harder. He jerked under the strain of impending release. His eyes flew open, "I'm coming." he gasped.

"Feed me, lover." Dave whispered and bent, taking Rick into his mouth.

With an anguished roar, Rick came. Powerful blasts of salty/sweet cum burst from the swollen tip of his cock, flooding the interior of Dale's mouth. Dale swallowed each shot, humming his approval, the vibrations causing Rick's balls to jerk as yet more semen was unloaded. 

"Dale, oh Dale," he groaned, feeling the suctioning slide of Dale's mouth and tongue over his depleted cock. He rested a hand on Dale's head, fingers tightening in his thick, burnished hair. "No more baby, please." he pleaded as his cock-head became sensitized to the touch.

Dale lifted up and away. He leaned over Rick, and capturing his lips in a kiss, fed him the remnants of his release. Their tongues swirled languidly in the rich, fragrant cream which they shared and swallowed. 

Dale rose up and gazed down at Rick, "Feel better?" he teased.

Rick chuckled, "Oh yeah."

"Good. Roll over."

Rick hesitated only a moment then rolled to his stomach. It was time. 

Dale draped his body over Rick's and rested against him. Rick could feel the hard ridge of Dale's cock pressing against his ass. He lay quietly, tensely waiting.

"Relax." Dale ordered softly.

Rick nodded and willed his muscles to loosen. They lay quietly for a few minutes. Rick felt himself beginning to doze. He was floating in a lazy fog when Dale began to slowly move. Dale's mouth moved over his shoulders, neck and back. Kissing, licking, moving lower and lower.

Rising up, Dale leaned forward, "Get up on your knees for me, babe." he whispered in Rick's ear, nipping his earlobe, sending a shiver down Rick's spine.

Rick did as Dale bid. He spread his legs at Dale's urging. He felt open and vulnerable, waiting for Dale's touch. He suddenly noted the increased rhythm of Dale's breath and looked around, his eyes widening in surprise. Dale was on his knees, firmly stroking his own rigid cock. His gaze was fastened to Rick's ass and with a drawn out groan he shot. Rick felt the warm liquid splash against his ass, coating his skin. His puckered opening jumped as it was hit by a direct shot. 

Dale finished shooting and ran his still hard cock through the cum that decorated Rick's ass. He spread the creamy liquid, positioned his cock in Rick's trench, sliding it up and down. Rick moaned. A moan that multiplied and became many as Dale began licking, kissing and sucking his ass.

Dale's tongue bathed Rick's skin. He became obsessed with the combination of slick, creamy cum and the clean, warm taste of his lover. His tongue followed the crevasse between Rick's taut muscular cheeks and arrived at the puckered, virgin entrance to his lovers body. 

Dale took a deep breath, inhaling the spicy musk that was Rick. Rich, dark and warm, it tickled his nostrils and wound into his soul. His cock swelled as returning blood flooded his semi-hard shaft, bring it again to full aching readiness. He groaned at the near pain caused by that urgent flood. 

Lowering to that tender rosebud he took his first taste. Rick's essence flooded his mouth, taking his thoughts as his brain shut down and instinct, pure and primitive took over. He began to feed. Dale awoke moments, or hours later, brought out of the fog by Rick's urgent cries. Rick's tight pinkish hole was loosened, throughly wet, and quivering from the ministrations of Dale's insistent tongue.

He eased back and reached for the lube. Squeezing it onto his fingers he coated them and placed the pad of one against Rick's hole. Lightly rimming the rucked skin until it gleamed with lube, he gently pushed in, watching the slow mesmerizing journey of his finger inside his lover's body. 

Rick's groan got his attention, "Easy baby, it's ok, it's ok. How does it feel, angel?"

"Good, it feels good, Dale." Rick panted.

Rick was lost in a fog of sensation. He'd never felt anything like this in his entire life. Eyes tightly closed he'd strained under Dale as Dale's tongue had worked him. It was all he could do not to buck like a man crazed by pleasure. And now this, this small invasion, this beginning, was bringing not only physical pleasure but emotional upheaval. 

He groaned as a second finger joined the first, opening his body, opening his soul. Rick struggled to relax, struggled to make sense of all the emotions filling his mind and heart as Dale filled his body. The smooth rhythm of Dale's stroking fingers was soothing yet provocative. A third finger moved in with the first two and Rick's thoughts shredded as pleasure and pain whipped up his spine, shocking, yet welcome.

From a distance he heard Dale's soothing murmurs, his lost soul following the sound, knowing that here was love, here was safety, here was a place to rest and let go. His body relaxed, allowing the glide of Dale's fingers free and deep access to his accepting entrance. Rick felt bereft as Dale's fingers left him, despair rose up until he heard Dale's softly murmured order to roll over.

Rick automatically obeyed, his eyes locking with Dale's as he settled on his back. "I want to watch your face, see your eyes as I fill you." Dale explained gently.

Rick nodded wordlessly and helped as Dale push his legs up, exposing his entrance. Dale moved between Rick's legs and Rick shuddered as he felt the first touch of Dale's cock to his waiting pucker. He strove to relax as the pressure built. An involuntary groan was torn from his throat as the head of Dales cock penetrated the tight ring of his anus. Pain blossomed like a flower and just as quickly the petals folded and dropped away. 

Together they stilled, waiting for Rick's body to relax, to accept its invasion. Slowly, slowly, slowly, Dale began to push forward, stopping every inch or so, giving Rick time to adjust, to become familiar with the sensation of being filled. Finally he was in to the hilt, his pubic hair tickling Rick's parted cheeks. He pulled back slightly and returned, each retreat of longer duration until he was taking Rick with long, slow strokes.

Rick lay moaning, the pleasure building, blinding in its intensity. His thoughts were on total shutdown, his body intent on complete meltdown. Every long, hard thrust caressed his prostate sending fiery tendrils of pleasure shooting through his groin. His own cock was throbbing in time with Dale's every move, swelling harder and harder. He felt the inevitable tightening of his balls, the tingle that proclaimed his orgasm would not be held at bay any longer.

"Dale!" he cried out, wanting to tell Dale, unable to form the words.

"Let go baby. Come for me." Dale grunted. He increased the strength of his thrusts taking Rick and himself over the edge.

Their mutual roars of release joined, mingling, sweeter than the sound of any choir. Dale shot his load deep into the dark, hot, velvety depths of his lover. The backwash anointed his pubic hair and dripped down, puddling on the bed beneath them. 

Rick's offering drenched them in hot ropes of potent seed. Pungent and heady, the smell of sex inundated their nostrils, acting as a drug, sending them higher. Aching, gut wrenching pleasure tore through their taut, straining bodies until finally, regretfully it began to recede, leaving exhaustion and sweet, tender repletion in its wake. 

Dale had collapsed on top of Rick and rested there, his body relaxing until he felt the small convulsive movement of Rick's chest. He rose up and froze. Tears were sliding from the corners of Rick's eyes, dripping down to the pillow under his head. 

"Shit! I hurt you." Dale almost shouted, appalled at his carelessness. He made to withdraw from Rick's body.

"No! Stay. I'm ok babe, I'm ok. It's just..." Rick panted, lost, struggling to find the words.

After the physical release, his emotions had come flooding back in a confused welter. He couldn't contain the flood, couldn't hide from it, couldn't make sense of the relief pitted against the guilt.

"Shh, take your time, angel. It's ok, baby. It's ok. Dale hovered over Rick, softly stroking the hair back from his face.

Rick began hesitantly, as he carefully chose his words, "All my life, I've been strong. I've known that this was how I was meant to be. But sometimes... sometimes I just wanted to know it was ok to be the follower, to not always have to take the lead, not always have to make the decisions. I... God, Dale." his final words were a plea. One that Dale could not ignore.

"Rick, it's ok. This is how it's meant to be. You and I together are one unit. When I feel down or lost, I know you'll be there. Your strength is something I'll always be able to depend on. But now you know that you have the same with me. You don't always have to be strong. There's nothing wrong with relinquishing your control to me. It's not weakness babe, it's trust, it's knowing that I'll always be here for you, knowing that you can pull back, rest, and I'll take the lead." 

Dale continued to stroke Rick's hair, his face and chest. "That's what this is all about. You claimed me and now I've claimed you. We're equals, partners, lovers. We take care of each other. Understand?"

Rick, his eyes glittering with unshed tears, nodded. He swallowed hard, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. Reaching up, he brushed the hair back from Dale's face, his touch light, tender, loving. "How did I get so lucky?"

Dale grinned, "You must have done something very good, somewhere along the way." 

Rick chuckled, the movement pushing Dale's flaccid cock from his body, forcibly reminding him of their joining. "However it happened, I'm grateful." He pulled Dale's face down to his, giving him a warm, loving kiss. "Thank you for making my first time unforgettable."





The Farmer & Dale Ch. 05



Dales eyes shone with pleasure and pride. He returned Rick's kiss, "You're welcome." 

He crawled off Rick and off the bed. "I think it's time for a shower." Walking into the bathroom he casually threw over his shoulder. "That was one hot piece of virgin tail."

Rick lay on the bed chuckling. He decided to allow his lover this bit of impertinence. It was well worth it. 

* * *

Dale sat at his desk, lost in his work. His fingers moved over the keyboard, his thoughts materializing on the screen with each key stroke. He muttered a small grumble of annoyance when the phone rang. 

Rick, he knew, was outside in the garden. He could hear the steady drone of the tiller. No chance of passing the phone answering chore to him. He hesitated a moment and thought of letting the machine pick it up, then relented.

He picked up the handset, "Hello?"

There was a brief silence then a woman's voice questioned, "Dale?"

"Yes, this is Dale." he replied, puzzled. He didn't recognize the voice.

"This is Irene Hunter, Rick's mother. May I speak to Rick?"

Dale froze with surprise, "Mrs. Hunter. Yes, of course; Rick's outside. Please hold on; I'll take the phone out to him."

Dale hurriedly rose and strode for the front door. Quickly crossing the porch and down the steps, he trotted out to the garden plot that lay on the other side of the gravel driveway. He cursed silently, wincing as the rocks bit into the bare soles of his feet. 

Rick was using the small tiller to weed carefully between the rows of tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers. His tee shirt was plastered to the middle of his back with sweat. Dale smiled with pleasure at the sight of those smooth, firm muscles flexing under the damp fabric. As usual his fingers itched to touch, knowing he'd find the skin warm and smooth.

Keeping to the edge of the garden, he pulled even with Rick, waving to get his attention. Rick shut the tiller down and with a smile made his way to Dale. Dale could see the impish light in Rick's eyes and forestalled any play by holding up the phone.

"Your mother." he mouth silently.

Rick's eyes widened his brows rising. He gave Dale a questioning look as he took the phone. Dale shrugged and shook his head, having nothing to tell Rick about the reason for her call.

"Mom?" Rick questioned, speaking into the phone. He listened for a moment then replied, "All right, I'll be down in about twenty minutes." He listened again, "That's ok, I'll see you in a bit."

He disconnected and looked at Dale, his expression somewhat worried, "Mom wants to see me."

"Well, that's a good thing. Right?" Dale questioned.

Rick headed for the house, "I hope so," he replied sincerely.

Dale followed and drew even with him, slipping an arm around his waist, "I'm sure it'll be ok. She wouldn't ask you over just so she could wallop you again," he teased.

"Guess you're right." Rick agreed, "Babe, I'm dirty and I smell. You're gonna need a shower too if you don't turn me loose."

"I don't mind," Dale admitted, "I like the way you smell."

"Stinky?" Rick chuckled.

"That's pure man smell." Dale told him, "Musky-hot and spicy, mmm."

Rick grinned, pulling Dale close as they stopped in front of the porch. "You've gotten to be a real horndog, lover," he leaned in, nibbling at Dale's lower lip, "ever since you took my cherry."

Dale smiled against Rick's teasing lips, "Where you're concerned, angel, I've always been a horndog." 

He slanted his lips over Rick's finding that familiar and perfect fit. Rick moaned and Dale took advantage of the offer, sliding his tongue into Rick's mouth. Their tongues tangled and explored, Rick's following Dale's home, where Dale held it captive, suckling lightly. Rick broke the kiss, stepping back.

Breathing hard, he looked down at the bulge that strained against his buttons, "Damn, now I gotta take a cold shower!"

Dale stepped forward, closing the gap between them, "I could be persuaded to take of this for you." he offered, his hand stroking Rick's swollen cock behind the imprisoning denim, tracing it with a slow sultry motion.

"Don't take this the wrong way, babe," Rick said stepping out of reach, "but I don't think that would be a very good idea right now. It's going to be hard enough to talk to my mother as it is without blushing like a schoolboy cause I can't help thinking about how my lover just got me off."

Dale grinned and chuckled, "Guess it's the cold shower then."

"Yeah, I know." 

Rick's petulant expression brought another spate of laughter from Dale. He followed as Rick morosely made his way upstairs, determined to face his fate.

* * *

An hour later, Dale was pacing the floor. Rick had been gone for 45 minutes and Dale couldn't help but worry. He remembered the last time Rick had faced his mother. How he had returned home with a red and swollen cheek from the blow she'd dealt him. His mouth tightened at the memory. 

Still, he thought to himself, Gerald had said that Rick's mother had been immediately sorry for her action. An action that was explained by incidents out of the past. Dale could, in a way, understand and even forgive Mrs. Hunter. But still he worried.

When the phone rang he jumped, his heart pounding. Carefully he picked up the handset and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Rick's voice.

"Dale. Mom wants to meet you. Would you come down, please?"

Dales eyes went round as panic set in, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, babe, it's ok. I promise."

"Maybe I should wear that old football helmet that's up in the attic." Dale quipped.

"Dale." Rick's admonishment was clearly heard in that one word.

Dale grimaced, "Ok, I'm sorry. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Dale hung up and immediately cursed. This meeting of thes would be a nerve wracking business at best. With their history, he felt he was in for a very uncomfortable time. He decided against changing his clothes. Jeans and a polo shirt were respectable enough. Slipping on his shoes, he decided to hoof it to the Hunters. Any delay would be welcome.

Arriving at the Hunter's he found Rick waiting for him on the front porch. Rick pulled him in for a hug and Dale stiffened in his arms.

"Relax. I told you, it's ok." Rick murmured in his ear before taking the lobe in his mouth for a quick nibble.

"Damn, Rick, not now!" Dale whispered urgently, trying to extricate himself from Rick's embrace.

Rick grinned and relented. He ushered Dale into the house. By-passing the living room, he took the lead and pulled Dale into the kitchen.

Dale was confronted by the sight of Gerald, who gave him a wink, sitting at the kitchen table. Dale's mother was at the sink and turned when they entered. Dale was struck by her beauty. For a woman in her 50's she was very well preserved. Her dark hair shone and had very little gray. Her blue eyes were bright and Dale could swear he felt the welcome in them. He was sure when she came forward and took his hand.

"Dale, I'm so happy to meet you. Please sit. Would you like some coffee? Or we have tea, soda, juice, you name it."

"Coffee will be fine, Mrs. Hunter." he told her, then mentally winced, hoping she wouldn't deliver it into his lap. 

The coffee appeared before him, on the table and in a cup and Dale winced again at the unfairness of his thought. His gaze met Rick's. Rick seemed to understand and shook his head slightly, before giving him a smile.

Mrs. Hunter sat and said to Dale, "I insist you call me Irene. What is they always say? Something to the effect that Mrs. Whoever is my mother?"

Gerald and Rick chuckled. Dale couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Irene."

"You're welcome. Now Dale, let's get right to the heart of the matter." 

Dale gave Rick a look of panic, but found no help in that direction. Gerald was equally noncommital. Dale was on his own.

"I was wrong."

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?" Dale was astonished. 

"Now don't go ma'aming me or we're not going to get along at all well." Irene teased.

"Sorry, Irene, please continue." Dale replied.

She looked at Rick, "I like him, he's very polite. You could learn a thing or two here, son."

"Mom," Rick whined, drawing out the word and giving it his best imitation from his behavior of years ago.

Gerald snorted and it was Dale's turn to chuckle.

Irene sighed, "The things I put up with. Now Dale, seriously. I've apologized to Rick for... well, let's just say it, for hitting him. I'm not going to beat around the bush here. I was shocked when Rick told us about you. My reaction was prompted by things that Gerald has explained to you. I'm sure you understand my reaction, bad as it was."

Dale nodded but kept silent. 

"I want you to know that I'm sorry for the way I acted. I'm fully prepared and actually pleased to welcome you to the family. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive our rocky beginning." She held her hand out to Dale. "Friends?" she questioned hopefully.

Dale took her hand and gave her a sweet, open smile, "Friends." he agreed.

Irene breathed a sigh of relief, "Good. Rick tells me you're a writer and he's following in your footsteps. I think it's wonderful. Farming is a good living for some, but I'd like to see one of my boys make it in some other field. No pun intended."

Everyone laughed, the laughter easing away the last of the tension. After that, they had a good visit, Irene making them promise to come for supper the next evening. 

Rick and Dale walked hand in hand back home. Dale was silent during the walk. When they entered the kitchen he sat at the table and looked at Rick.

"I like your mom. I was prepared not to, but I couldn't help it."

Rick sat opposite him and reached for Dale's hand, rubbing his fingers lightly over Dale's knuckles, "I'm glad you like her. Thank you for giving her a chance, Dale. She really is a good woman. She's been the most kind and loving person my whole life. Our house was always filled with love and laughter. I'm not saying there was never any discord. When people live in close proximity that's to be expected, especially between brothers and sisters and children and parents. But what I mean is, it could have been a hell of a lot worse." 

Dale nodded, "I understand, believe me I do. It's good to know there's someone who'll keep you in line," he teased.

"Ass." Rick squeezed his hand fondly.

Dale smiled, then sobered, "Have you decided whether or not to tell your dad about Steven?"

Rick shook is head, "I'm just not sure. I want to. I know Dad would be glad to know that Steven is happy. But every time I start to say something I feel like..."

"You're betraying your mother?" Dale filled in.

"Yeah." Rick admitted.

Dale rose and walked around the table. Wrapping his arms around Rick's shoulders, he kissed the top of his head. "Let's not worry about it now. Come on. You promised to show me that new chapter you wrote."

Rick took Dale's outstretched hand and followed him to the study. 

"After you show me what you've got. I'll show you what I've got. How bout it stud?" Dale wiggled his eyebrows.

Rick chuckled and releasing Dale's hand, used both of his to squeeze Dale's firm, flexing cheeks, "I know what you've got, babe, but I'll be charitable and let you show me again."

"Gee thanks." 

Rick laughed at Dale's sarcastic tone and followed him into the study.

To be continued...



The Farmer & Dale Ch. 06



"Hey, Dad, come on in," Rick welcomed his father, as he walked in the back door.

Dale, and a cup of coffee waited for him at the kitchen table. Gerald greeted him warmly, then sat and took an appreciative sip of Dale's renowned brew. His eyes wandered the cozy kitchen as he relaxed into the solid comfort of the oak chair that he rested in. 

He approved Dale's choice of the muted celery green paint he'd chosen for the walls, it gave the room a calm, soothing ambience. The air was scented with apples and cinnamon. Dale had proved to be an excellent cook, and Gerald's mouth watered at the thought of the apple pie that even now was baking in the oven.

He took a second sip of his coffee, "There's got to be a little magic in this cup," he sighed, "nothing totally of this earth could taste so good."

Dale gave him a grin. Rick smiled and fidgeted with the ceramic chicken salt and pepper shakers that sat in the middle of the table. He seemed fascinated by them, as though he'd never seen them before. Gerald watched his son over the rim of his cup, then spoke a gentle demand.

"All right, son, out with it."

"What?" Rick asked innocently.

"Whatever it is that has you trying to dissect that poor rooster." Gerald took the salt shaker from Rick's hand and set it on the table. He looked at Dale, "Rick never was one for hiding his feelings very well. I could always tell when he had something to confess, it always began this way."

"I know what you mean." Dale agreed giving Rick a look filled with tender fondness.

Rick knew he had better come out with it – his dad had him cold, "I need to ask a favor," he told him, "Dale's publishing company called. They want me to come to New York to sign a contract for my book."

Gerald rose from the table, Rick doing the same to intercept his dad's congratulatory hug, "That's wonderful news, son! Your mom is going to be so proud. She'll be calling everyone in the family."

Dale beamed at the two of them. Seeing them together, in this way, he could see how Steven had at first mistaken Rick for Gerald. They were the same height, their honey blonde hair the same shade and those eyes. Those beautiful, blue-green eyes that so took Dale's breath away, were bequeathed directly from Gerald's DNA. Their body type was similar, Gerald being a bit slimmer than Rick, but no less fit. 

He worked hard. Physical labor kept his body honed and healthy. His skin was tanned and still smooth. His face bore laugh lines etched around the eyes, the only real indication that here was a man of greater maturity than first impression might make one assume. At 57, Gerald was fit and hearty, and, Dale had to admit, a fine looking man. He knew he'd give him more than a second look if circumstances were different.

Rick and Gerald resumed their seats, "The thing is, Dale's got a deadline to beat, he's been a bit distracted lately." Rick shot Dale a wicked look that sent a blush to Dale's cheeks. Gerald chuckled at Dale's bashful display, " I don't want to go to New York by myself. I was hoping you might come with me." Rick offered.

Gerald looked surprised then pleased. He considered a moment, "Well, I think I could find the time for that. Your mother might like to come too, son."

Rick paled slightly and Dale cleared his throat, "Um, that might be a bit of a problem."

"How so, Dale?" Gerald questioned.

"We met Steven, Dad." Rick told him.

At Gerald's blank look, Rick clarified, "Steve, your lover, before you married mom."

Rick saw a welter of emotions crossed Gerald's eyes; surprise, delight, melancholy and finally a kind of wistful caution.

"How did you meet. Where?" Gerald asked quietly.

"He's Dale's publisher, Dad. We met on the trip to New York. Dale had met him before, but had no idea he was your Steve." Rick explained. "When he saw me, he called me Gerald and then... then it all came out." Rick hesitated, "I would have told you sooner, but I... I wasn't sure I should."

"Your Mom... you wanted to protect your Mom." Gerald guessed.

Rick could only nod.

"It's all right son, I understand. But understand this. Years ago, I gave my word to your mother, and I have no intention of going back on it. I had a choice to make and I made it. It damned near broke my heart to let Steve go, but given the opportunity to change it all, I'd stay with your mother. She's my heart. Without her I would never have had the joy of being a father." Gerald cleared his throat as emotion filled it.

"I know that I could have been happy with Steve, but even at 21 I knew that I wanted a family, children of my own. If I had never met your mother, I'd most likely be with Steve now, I felt that strongly about him. But I did meet your mother and knowing that I did want that family, that home, I made the best choice for me." Gerald's voice held a note of sure finality, his eyes took on a faraway look. 

"Sometimes I'd dream that your mom and Steve would meet and grow to like, even love each other, that the three of us could be together. It was a young man's wishful fantasy, but I'd have done it in a heartbeat, damn the scandal it might cause. I loved them both," Gerald revealed on a wistful note. He shook himself and smiled at Dale and Rick. His eyes cleared as that thought receded. "Is he all right?"

Rick found himself too touched by his dad's revelations to answer. He looked to Dale. "He's very well, Gerald." Dale told him, "Not long after the two of you split up, he met James, his lover and partner. They've been together almost as long as you and Irene."

Gerald's face lit with delight, his eyes going misty, "I'm so happy to hear that, boys, so very happy." He reached out and took Dale's hand in one of his and Rick's hand in the other, giving them a reassuring squeeze, "Now when do we leave for New York. I want to say hello to an old friend."

                      *           *           *

The night before their trip to New York, Gerald emerged from the bathroom after a long, soothing shower. He paused in the doorway between bath and bedroom, taking in the familiar and oh so beloved vision of his wife.

Irene stood before the mirror, brush in hand, giving her dark, lustrous hair a last few strokes before going to bed. Gerald often teased her about the futility of having such well groomed hair before bed, knowing that it would end up mussed and tangled, many times the result of his handiwork. Their lovemaking was often, and oft times vigorous. Irene had proved to be no shrinking violet in bed or out, something that Gerald had felt blessed with over the years.

In all their years together, she'd never used sex as a weapon. Irene was a fighter, up front and straight on the attack. If something bothered her, they had it out, cleared the air and many's the time sealed the deal with a powerfully potent bout of lovemaking. The fact that Gerald had been true to her all these years was not only the result of his promise and integrity, but due also to the fact that she never left him wanting. They fulfilled each other absolutely.

He leaned in the doorway, breathing in the familiar scent of her. She wasn't one for fancy soaps, perfumes or lotions. The scent was female, his woman, sweet and arousing. Gerald felt himself stiffen in anticipation. 

He moved across the room and reached for her brush, laying it aside as his arms wrapped around her. He pressed himself against the soft yet firm buttocks that had cradled him many times. Irene was more than willing to be adventurous, and anal play was a big part of their ‘routine.' 

He stared at their reflection in the mirror, his reflected gaze meeting hers, "Did I ever tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in Illinois?" He dipped down to nuzzle the side of her neck. 

She tilted her head, giving him easy and welcome access. "I believe you may have mentioned it a time or two, but I'm not adverse to hearing it again." She sighed with pleasure, "I'm so glad you're going with Rick tomorrow. The two of you need some time together."

"Rene, you can still come, it's not too late."

Irene turned in his arms, her smile was soft, her eyes filled with love, "You know the one thing I've always admired about you? Your honesty. When you tell me I'm beautiful, I have to believe, because I know you'd never lie to me. When you tell me I have nothing to fear from Steven, I believe that too. You've proved it time and again the past thirty five years. You go, speak with your friend, and enjoy the time with your son. I'll be here when you get home."

Gerald felt the tears prickling his eyes as he gathered his wife close in his arms, "I'm the luckiest man on the face of the earth." he whispered.

Irene slipped an arm between them. Her hand found the opening in his towel, sliding in and wrapping around the firm throbbing length of his cock. At her touch, it swelled, thickening, the blood pulsing under the skin. She slowly stroked him.

"Come to bed," she murmured, "You're about to get even luckier."

Gerald chuckled, a warm, husky sound, filled with love and arousal. Slipping the robe from his wife's still firm body, he walked with her to the bed.

                     *           *           *

"Like this, baby?" Dale panted as he continued the long slow thrusts that filled his lover with each forward motion.

"Ah, yeah! Yeah, babe. Don't stop! God, don't stop!" Rick chanted. He groaned under the continued sensual assault. Dale's thick, swollen length slid freely in the tight clasp of his velvet-skinned sheath.

Dale's body was on autopilot, his senses filled with the smell and taste of his lover. His gaze wandered the planes of Rick's face, watched as his plump, kiss-swollen lips parted, a moaning whimper of pleasure issuing from between them. His eyes were closed, his expression one of deep concentration. Another slide of Dale's cock within, and Rick's shoulders bunched, the muscles in his arms bulging as his hands tightened on the rumpled sheet beneath their laboring bodies.

His torso was bent, his legs resting over Dale's shoulders. Rick's cock was at full mast, the skin stretched taut, the round, plump head weeping. Dale kept it sandwiched between their damp, sweat-slicked bodies. Rick's precum coated their skin as his cock throbbed against their bellies.

With each long glide, into the dark, wet and welcoming heat, Dale could feel the convulsive clasp of Rick's channel as it grew increasingly tight around him. The rapturous peak was mere moments away.

"Rick." he gasped softly.

Rick's eyes opened, distant, lost. They slowly focused, blue-green melding with mossy green. The pleasure arrowed between them.

"Come with me." Dale ordered.

His body moved. Long glides, became short, hard punches that pummeled the hard knot of Rick's prostate. Dale reveled in the roar of Rick's release. As climax twisted his gut, his cock spewed it's hot load deep into Rick, giving in to the hard milking spasms of his sheath, filling it with the tribute it demanded. Rick's cock erupted between them, milky cum, warm and wet, coating them, mixing with their sweat. 

Dale collapsed, shuddered and went limp. He sank down onto Rick and felt his arms move up to encircle him. He lay against his lover as his pounding heart slowed. With his ear pressed to Rick's chest, he could hear the steady, slowing thump of Rick's heart. It was comforting, reassuring. Dale sighed and eased out of Rick's arms, rolling to his side. Rick followed, spooning Dale. Neither made mention of the fragrant cum that decorated their bodies. It was as though those intimate fluids anointed and joined them.

"I really am going to miss you." Rick whispered. His breath was a warm mist against the back of Dale's neck.

Dale shivered and felt tears well in his eyes. He fought to keep his emotions under control, fought to keep his voice steady. He pushed back into Rick's arms, needing the warmth and comfort of his lover.

"I'll miss you too," his voice breaking up as he lost the struggle.

"Dale?"

"Mmm?"

"Turn over, look at me." Rick ordered softly

Dale hesitated, blinking his lids to rid his eyes of their sheen of moisture. As Rick moved back to give him room, he rolled and came to rest on his other side, facing Rick, who looked deep into his lover's eyes.

"Are you all right, baby?" he questioned softly.

Dale nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

Rick's arms wrapped around him and pulled them tightly together. His warm, musky scent filled Dale's nostrils. Dale breathed it in, wanting to hold every bit of Rick he could, for as long as he could.

"I love you so much," Rick murmured softly, "The next couple of days are going to seem like forever." Rick hesitated, then continued. "There's one thing I discovered about what happens when two people who love each other part, even if it's only for a little while."

"What's that? Dale whispered.

"It's always hardest for the one who gets left behind." Rick answered.

Tears flooded Dale's eyes and he couldn't stop the sudden small sob that caught in his throat. Rick's arms tightened around him.

"This is stupid," Dale choked out, "you're only going to be gone a couple of days."

"It's not stupid," Rick assured him, "I'd feel the same way if I was the one staying home. Even though I'll miss you, I've got the distraction of going somewhere and doing something different, while you'll just be here, in our home, by yourself. It makes a difference, Dale."

Dale nodded, his cheek rubbing in the soft curling hair on Rick's chest. 

"What you have to remember is that I love you, that I'll be thinking of you, and that I'll be counting the hours until I can be home with you. Does that help?" Rick asked hopefully.

Dale smiled, "It helps," he admitted, "I love you too, angel."

Rick could feel Dale's smile against his skin, "Good, now get some sleep. I'm going to make love to you in the morning before I go. Dream about how good it's going to be, baby."

Dale yawned, even as he felt a tightening tingle in his loins, "No fair, now I'll be horny all night."

He felt the vibration of Rick's chuckle under his cheek and quickly slipped into sleep.

                      *           *           *

"Dad?" Rick felt compelled to ask the question that had been bothering him ever since their trip began. They were ensconced in the comfortable luxury of first class. Gerald, who'd been idly scanning a magazine, looked up expectantly.

Rick, as promised, had started his morning by making love to Dale. He'd left him warm, sated and sleeping in their bed. Just the thought of Dale lying there, looking so sweetly innocent, his hair tousled, his breathing soft and slow, made Rick glow with love. He'd insisted that Dale go back to sleep as he got ready to leave. He didn't want Dale feeling increasing melancholy as he prepared for the journey and to have it reach a peak as he walked out the door. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving Dale in that state. 

Before beginning his journey, he'd picked a bouquet of flowers from those that grew around the house. He put them in a vase and left them on the bedside table with a note. 

The note read; "My Love, As I walk out the door, I leave a part of myself behind. You. You have become my heart. I will not be whole again until I return. I love you, Dale. Yours Always, Rick." 

He'd resisted the urge to caress that beloved face once more and left quickly, feeling a wrench at the parting. 

He'd gone to his parents house to say good-bye to his mom. She was all smiles, and excited for him. She bade the two of them a good time and to enjoy the trip. Rick drove. The trip had taken about an hour. They chatted or rode in comfortable silence as the flat farmland vista's had rolled by out their windows. He and his dad had made it to the airport in good time and were now in the air, the trip more than half done. Rick couldn't keep his agitation at bay any longer.

"Yes, son." Gerald answered.

"Do you feel guilty, not telling mom about Steven?"

Gerald chuckled, "I wondered what was bothering you. I thought maybe you were just missing Dale." Gerald sobered, "I would have felt guilty, son, if I hadn't told her."

Rick's eyes widened, "You told her and she let you go?"

Gerald smiled indulgently, "Your mother trusts me, son. You'll find that if you always act honorably and keep your word, that people learn they can trust you, especially those closest to you. That's one of the rewards of being an honest man. Have you ever felt you couldn't trust me?"

Rick automatically shook his head. He didn't even need to think the question over. "Never."

Gerald's smile brightened. "I always wanted you kids to know I was there for you. That you could always trust and depend on me. Your mom feels the same way."

"We know, Dad," Rick told him, "Each one of us knows how lucky we are to have you and Mom."

"That's good to know, Rick." Gerald felt a warm glow inside at his son's words. He gave Rick's leg a pat, then changed the subject, "So, you say Steve knows I'm coming?"

"Yes, sir. Dale and I thought it would be a good idea to let him know in advance. If for no other reason than to make sure he was there when we arrive. I didn't want you to come all this way and then not see him." Rick revealed.

Gerald nodded. "Good. It will be good to see him. I'm anxious to meet his partner too."

"You'll like James, Dad. He's a nice guy." 

"Knowing Steve, I would expect nothing less." Gerald answered.

At that moment the, "Fasten Seatbelt", sign came on and the flight attendant announced their arrival. Rick and Gerald both took a deep breath, each preparing to face new and potentially troubling experiences.

                     *           *           *

Not long after the flight landed, they were checked into their hotel and on their way to Eddington's Publishing. Gerald and Rick marveled at the sights the city afforded. Though he'd been here before, one trip had hardly been enough for Rick to become jaded at the sights provided. 

When they arrived at the building that housed the publishing company, they entered the lobby and Rick guided his dad to the waiting bank of elevators. He selected the button for the reception area and they took the ride, both silent, immersed in their own thoughts and fears, the music from the recessed speaker system flowing over them.

At the publishing houses reception area, Rick was cordially greeted and they were shown straight to Steven's office where Steven and James were waiting for them. 

Gerald felt his insides churn in a way he'd not felt in ages. He was nervous and yet anxious to see his old lover. When they entered the office he felt tears prick at his eyes. Steven had aged, just as he had, but he could still see the young man he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. As though the years had fallen away, they strode to each other and hugged, their arms tight around each other. There was silence as the two of them silently communed, their affection for each other flooding back. 

Finally they broke their embrace and stood face to face, teary eyed, until smiles turned to laughter. 

"My God, it's so good to see you." Steven told him. "I couldn't believe it when Rick showed up here with Dale. It was like seeing a picture from the past."

"I've always told him how lucky he was to take after his handsome old man." Gerald laughed. 

"Hmmm... I see you still have the old conceit." Steven teased, turning to Rick, "Your dad always did think he was the cock of walk."

Rick and James laughed appreciatively. 

"Gerald, I'd like you to meet my partner, James Duncan. James, my old friend, Gerald Hunter."

Gerald walked to James and took the hand he held out, shaking it firmly, "I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you. When the boys told me they'd met Steven, and that he was well and happily settled, I... well, it's what I'd always hoped."




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 06



James had watched Gerald from the time he entered the office. Shaking his hand and seeing the warm sincerity in his eyes, the small fears and insecurities he'd hidden away at the thought of this meeting disappeared. Gerald projected an air of forthright honesty that could be felt on a visceral level. It was there, without question. James understood now why Steven held him in such high regard all these years.

"I'm very pleased to meet you too, Gerald. I'm really delighted that you and Steven have this chance to renew your friendship and connect again. I know how much it means to you, to both of you." his gaze found Steven's and he was rewarded with such a look of love that any doubts he'd had about the wisdom of this event were swept away. "In fact, Rick, if you'll come with me, I'll take you down to get those contracts signed and we'll give your dad and Steven a little time to catch up in private."

"That's fine with me," Rick turned to his dad and teased. "No hanky panky now."

"Get along with you, youngster, before I put you over my knee." Gerald gave Rick a mock frown.

Steven and James laughed. Steven gave James a peck on the cheek, "Thank you, love."

"My pleasure, and you owe me one." James teased. 

"Then it'll be my pleasure to give you one." Steven returned archly.

James actually blushed, "Damn, I left myself open for that one didn't I? And no, don't say another word," he'd seen Steven poised to deliver another quip.

Everyone chuckled. Rick and James made their exit, leaving Gerald and Steven to reminisce. Steven ushered Gerald across the lushly carpeted floor, to the section of his office that had been decorated and furnished with relaxation in mind. There were comfortable padded chairs with convenient tables for holding drinks or snacks and a sofa that was large enough for a man wanting a nap to stretch out on with ease. A well stocked bar held the makings for any kind of drink wanted. Behind the bar was a sink and a fully stocked refrigerator.

"You still have that razor sharp wit, I see." Gerald remarked as they settled on the tapestried sofa.

Steven grinned, "One has to stay sharp in this business," his grin faded and he faced Gerald, a soft smile on his face, "Now tell me, how have you been? Is everything all right with you?"

Gerald returned Steven's smile, "I've been well. It wasn't easy at first, I love Irene, but I missed you so much." 

Tears filled both men's eyes as they recalled what might have been had fate not stepped in and changed the course of their lives.

Steven raised his hand and lightly caressed Gerald's cheek, "I missed you too."

Tears spilled down both their cheeks and they embraced, offering each other comfort, mourning their lost love and, though it was now different, muted, they celebrated the renewal of the love that lingered between them. Holding each other, feeling the warmth that settled between them, even after so many years, felt completely natural, like coming home. Finally they parted and drying their eyes, began sharing with each other, their lives that had taken such divergent paths.

When Rick and James returned, Gerald and Steven were laughing at a tale Gerald was relating about how his children played baseball in the fields and how a very young Rick was tricked into believing that a seemingly solid cow patty was home base. Rick discovered just how not solid it was when, encouraged by his elder siblings, he slid into home. 

Rick frowned at his dad, "Did you have bring that up?"

Gerald chuckled, "It's a classic Hunter tale, son."

"Great." Rick intoned sarcastically, much to the delight of the others. 

The four of them sat chatting for awhile until interrupted by Steven's assistant, "Excuse me, sir, but there's a phone call for Mr. Rick Hunter. It's Mr. Vaden, on line two.

Rick frowned, a chill of apprehension swept him as he walked to the phone. He picked it up and punched the button for line two, "Dale? Are you all right?"

When Dale's voice came over the line. Rick could hear the tension and barely restrained tears in his voice, "Rick, you and Gerald have to come home. Now. It's Irene. There's been an accident, Rick. She's in the hospital."

Rick had been gazing at the three men seated across the room, his vision blurred, "Is she all right? How bad is it?" Rick questioned, he felt himself sway and quickly sat down in Steven's chair.

"It's bad, Rick, very bad. Hurry, you have to hurry." Dale's voice caught on a sob.

"All right, Dale. We're leaving now. Hang on, baby. We're coming. I love you." Rick strove to keep his voice even.

"I love you too." was Dale's shaky reply before he hung up.

Rick looked up to see his dad hovering over him, "What is it Rick? What's happened?" 

"It's Mom. Dale says there's been an accident. She's in the hospital. We have to get home, Dad. Now Dad, NOW!" Rick could hear the break in his voice even as fear made the blood seem to slow in his veins. He felt as though the air had suddenly become thick and hard to breathe.

Gerald's face went sheet white, "Dear God," he whispered, "Rene."

Rick immediately rose and took his dad's arm. He'd never seen such an expression on his father's face. He took a deep breath and knew he had to stay strong. His dad needed him.

Steven and James, who had been listening from across the room went into action. James was on the phone calling the airport. His firm kept a small private jet and he ordered it made ready. He arranged for Steven's assistant to go to Rick and Gerald's hotel to retrieve their luggage and check them out. The car would pick them up and deliver them to the airport. They could be on their way within the hour.

Steven steered Gerald and Rick back to the sofa and gave them each a brandy, seeing to it that they sipped it slowly. He could see the color returning to Gerald's face. Rick roused from his daze and took his dad's hand.

"She'll be all right, Dad," Even as he said the words he silently prayed that it would be so.

Gerald nodded, "I know, I just need to be with her, son."

The phone rang. "The car's here." James announced.

They all went to the elevator and rode down to the lobby. Steven and James accompanied them out to the car. 

"Let us know if there's anything else we can do." Steven told them as he hugged first Rick then Gerald.

"I can't thank you enough as it is." Gerald told him, returning the hug. He turned and shook James' hand. 

"Our prayers are with you and your wife." James told him. 

"Thank you." With a final look at them both, Gerald entered the car. Steven and James were both shaken at the look of desolation and desperate hope they saw reflected in his eyes.

"Rick, keep us informed, will you?" Steven asked, he laid a comforting hand on Rick's shoulder.

"I will," Rick promised, "Thank you for everything."

He quickly followed his dad into the car. Steven and James watched them pull away to be swallowed by the busy afternoon traffic.

                      *          *           *

Hours later, the Hunter family and Dale were gathered at the hospital. Each of the children had been allowed to see their mother. Dale had accompanied Rick. Rick held it together until leaving her room when he broke down. Dale held him, rocking him like the lost child he was, knowing that his mother would not be returning home. 

In the waiting room, Paul, Sharon, Karen, Rick and their spouses were huddled together talking quietly. The atmosphere was stunned disbelief. This was an event none of them had thought to face for many years yet and certainly not with this wrenching finality. It was a shocking reminder of how fragile the human existence is and how the simplest of actions can have the most devastating results.

Irene had made a late afternoon run to the grocery store. On her return the sun had been setting. Just as she turned on her headlights, a deer had appeared from out of a corn field and run in front of her car. She'd jerked the wheel sharply to avoid hitting it and the car flipped, landing in the ditch by the side of the road. Another car had come along soon after, and alerted the paramedics and sheriff, who rushed to the scene. Irene had been quickly taken to the hospital, but her injuries, including internal damage to several major organs, were too extensive and too severe to be repaired. She was clinging to life. Just as her husband was clinging desperately to her hand.

She'd been unconscious when they arrived. As Gerald gazed at her beloved face, her lids fluttered and opened. A small smile played at her lips as she beheld the man she loved.

"Hi," she murmured, huskily.

"Hi, baby." Gerald returned, he bent and kissed her gently. He laid his cheek against hers, breathing in her scent and warmth, feeling the familiar satin softness of her skin. He could not accept that these would be their last moments together.

"Are the kids all right?" she asked.

"They're fine, honey. They're out in the waiting room, just waiting for you to wake up."

"I'm so sleepy. Did I hit the deer?" 

Gerald held back his tears. Despite her effort not to hit it, the car had clipped the deer. The sheriff had had to shoot it. It was just like Irene to worry about an innocent animal. He wasn't about to tell her the truth.

"No, baby, you didn't hit it." he managed. He kept a firm hold on one of her hands, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles, soothing, comforting.

"Good. I love you, Gerald." she frowned slightly, "Everything's all right, isn't it?" Drugged, she felt no pain, but something in Gerald's expression set off an inner alarm.

Gerald lightly smoothed the hair back from her face, "Everything's fine, baby. Rest. I love you, Rene," he kissed her again.

Comforted and reassured, always trusting her husband's word, Irene smiled, her eyes closed softly as she slid gently away.

"Oh God, Rene." Gerald choked out, "I lied baby, I lied. Nothing will ever be right again."

He lay his head on his wife's shoulder and sobbed out his pain and grief as her doctor and several nurses came in and as unobtrusively as possible, disconnected the wailing machines that announced her passing.

                      *           *           *

Three months later, Rick was on the phone talking to Steven. He sat cross-legged on the floor in the living room. Dale sat on the sofa behind him. Rick rested back against Dale's legs as Dale slowly and firmly massaged the tension from his shoulders. Rick studied the pattern in the carpet, the tone of his voice clearly showing his concern for his dad. 

"No, he's not improving. Paul, the girls, and I, make sure he eats at least one good meal a day, but he's losing weight. He tries to make us think he's ok, but he's not. Dale and I have tried to persuade him to move in with us, but he won't consider it. After that first week, he was bound and determined to go home." Rick hated to confess it, but he knew Steven needed to know, "He gets angry if we fuss over him too much," Rick swallowed the lump in his throat, "He never used to get angry so easily. He's not himself, Steven."

"James and I have been discussing it, Rick. We think it would do Gerald good to get away for awhile. With that in mind, we've come up with a plan." Steven told him.

Steven had been calling regularly for updates on Gerald's condition. He too was very concerned at his slow decline.

"I'm all for anything that will help," Rick said, "Dad's hurting, Steven. Hell, we all are, but it's worse for Dad. Even though he has us, he's still essentially alone. However much we want to, we can't fill that empty place in Dad's heart.

Steven sympathized, "I know Rick, it's a desperately hard thing to face, losing a loved one. I've lost both my parents, I know how you feel. I can only begin to imagine Gerald's pain at losing Irene. 

"So what's your plan?" Rick asked. Dale had leaned forward to rest his chin on Rick's shoulder. He reached back to lightly touch Dale's cheek.

"I have a nice place in Florida, near Ft. Lauderdale," Steven explained, "James and I thought we'd take your father there. He could swim, get some sun. There are nice places to eat and shop. We could take in movies and possibly a play or musical programs of some kind. There's lots to keep him busy. It's very different from Illinois. The change in scenery is bound to do him good." 

"It sounds great," Rick enthused, "Are you sure you want to do this? What about your other responsibilities?"

"Things run like clockwork around here. James and I can easily take a few weeks away, and if we're needed, well, we're just a phone call away," Steven told him, "Please say you'll help us do this, Rick. Gerald means so much to me. We truly reconnected that day the two of you came to see us. I want to help him if I can."

"What about James?" Rick inquired softly. Rick was concerned that Steven and James' relationship might be affected by Steven's insistent need to help his former lover.

"James is every bit as enthusiastic as I am, Rick. He saw Gerald for the good man he is. He knows our own relationship is solid. He's right here with me now shaking his head in agreement."

Rick could hear the happiness in Steven's voice, "All right. But the next thing is to persuade Dad. I don't know how easy that's going to be."

"Leave that to us. James and I will be there tomorrow afternoon. We'll see you soon."

"All right, Steven. Have a safe trip." Rick disconnected the call and turned to Dale, "Did you get the gist of that?"

Dale shook his head, "Not all of it. Tell me."

Rick recounted the conversation and Dale agreed it was a good idea. They just hoped that Steven and James could persuade Gerald. They both knew, without having to say it aloud, that Gerald needed help, and soon!

To be continued....



The Farmer & Dale Ch. 07



Steven stood at the window gazing out at the view. It was spectacular; clear azure-blue skies unmarred by even a wisp of cloud; creamy-white, sandy beaches caressed by gentle waves. The rhythmic ebb and flow of water erased any trace of those impertinent enough to believe they could leave evidence of their passing. 

Far out on the diamond-bright water, several boats, their sails full-set, gracefully skimmed the waves. Closer to the house, seated in lounge chairs, were two men. Both were a healthy shade of bronze, kissed by the sun they'd courted daily.

Steven studied them both. The man on the right, with his raven hair touched only slightly with gray, was his lover, James. The expression in his eyes softened as he regarded the man who had shared his life for almost thirty years. He again felt astonished at the thought; it seemed impossible that so many years had passed. He and James had not only managed to stay together, something that so many couldn't accomplish, but they continued to love and cherish one another. Steven thanked the divine providence that had brought James into his life.

His gaze shifted to the man on the left.

Gerald's honey blonde hair had lightened in the sun so that it gleamed with pale highlights. Steven's fingers twitched as he remembered the feel of his former lover's skin, how they'd touched and loved each other through so many endless nights. He ached to go to him, to pull him into his arms and draw the pain from him.

Gerald had finally agreed to Steven and James' entreaty to go to Florida with them. He'd stubbornly resisted until Steven used the one argument he knew would sway him: his family. His children were worried about him; this trip would reassure them that he had an opportunity to heal. Gerald had given in, thinking that perhaps Steven was right, and that now his sons and daughters wouldn't fuss over him so much.

Steven was relieved that he'd agreed, but he was still worried. Gerald was eating better, he'd even re-gained some of the weight he'd lost. He seemed to enjoy all their activities from simple sun- bathing to the concerts they had attended. They went to movies and Gerald participated in their conversations and discussions, laughing in all the right places. He seemed his old self. Seemed, being the key word.

Gerald had built an invisible barrier between himself and the world. Behind that barrier, he held on to his loss, held on to his pain and grief. After breaking down at the hospital, he had not cried again for Irene. He stoically endured, saying little about her, acting as though everything was fine, when little by little he was dying inside.

Steven had caught him several times with a sad, faraway look on his face, the sparkle dying in his eyes. Those sparks of inner fire were growing dimmer with each passing day. He knew Gerald was trying to bury his heart and emotions, trying to deny the pain as if with his denial the cause for it would no longer exist. Steven knew something needed to be done. He had an inkling of what that was, but was unsure how to go about it.

He sighed and made his way to the kitchen. After eating out the last four evenings, the three of them agreed that, for a change of pace, it would be nice to stay in and enjoy a 'home' cooked meal. Considering where they were, they'd enjoyed many a meal of seafood, so Steven had decided on simple baked chicken breasts, salad, baked potatoes, crusty rolls and sorbet for dessert. 

He'd chosen a crisp white wine to serve with their dinner and had found a special blend of coffee he wanted to surprise Gerald with. Gerald had confided his addiction to Dale's coffee. Steven thought perhaps this blend might come close to that which Dale brewed, and that it might produce pleasant memories to help steady him.

Steven prepared the chicken, lightly seasoning it and laying it out in the baking dish. The potatoes were washed and like-wise the salad greens which were also drained and placed back in the refrigerator to keep them crisp. The rolls had only to be warmed. 

He was just about to go out to ask James and Gerald when they would like to eat, when they came to the back door. Steven beamed at the sight of them. They looked so fit, healthy and beautifully male in their bathing trunks which exposed lots of smooth, tanned skin. They stood in the doorway using their towels to wipe down and to brush the sand from their feet. After Steven's complaints about the sand being tracked in, they knew to use the broom that rested by the back door to sweep the excess sand from the walkway that led to the door.

The two of them were joking about whose turn it was to sweep. Over the past two weeks Gerald had become quite as comfortable with James as he was with Steven. They joked sometimes, calling themselves the Three Musketeers. 

The first to walk in, James observed Steven's preparations, "Why didn't you come and get us, love? We'd have helped you get things ready," he said, wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and giving him a kiss.

Steven breathed in his lover's scent; James smelled of suntan lotion, fresh air and heated male, a potent combination, one his cock approved as it twitched and thickened under his shorts.

Gerald smiled at the two of them, "I thought you were coming out to join us? What have you been up to besides getting dinner ready?"

"I was doing a little reading, and lost track of the time." Steven confessed, then grinned mischievously, "Actually this book might interest you. It's a first effort by a very talented young man by the name of Richard Hunter."

Gerald returned his grin, his eyes sparkling with pride, "Talented, huh?"

"Oh yes, it's actually quite good, but then we don't offer contracts for mediocre manuscripts." 

"I'll tell him you said that."

Gerald walked to Steven, leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. He jerked back, surprise, embarrassment, and dismay registering on his face. His cheeks flushed and he began to apologize.

"James, Steven, I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that," he began to back away. 

James placed a hand on his arm, halting him, "Gerald, it's ok," he told him gently.

His arm slipped around Gerald's waist. With his other arm around Steven, he drew them into a three-way hug. Gerald stood stiffly at first, then slowly relaxed, his head dropping gently down to rest on James' shoulder. With a sigh, the tension flowed out of his body. Steven smiled softly and slid his free arm around him, his eyes meeting James' over Gerald's head. Steven gave him an encouraging nod.

James rubbed his chin over the top of Gerald's head. Steven knew then that this was the key. Touch was the answer to dissolving the barrier that Gerald had erected around himself. Steven watched his lover touch Gerald in this simplest of ways and knew that Gerald, however unconsciously, had opened the door. Steven rubbed Gerald's back gently, eliciting another sigh from him.

He and James had discussed just this possibility. This simple, human need to be touched, could unlock Gerald's heart. It was not something they had done before, sharing their bed with anyone, but they had agreed that if doing so would help Gerald, they were both willing and yes, even eager to do so. 

When they first met, they had discussed all the aspects of Steven's relationship with Gerald. They had been very open and honest with each other about all their previous experiences and love affairs. James knew, that had Gerald not chosen to honor his engagement to Irene, that he and Steven would very likely have stayed together. Just as Steven had earlier thanked the divine intervention that brought James into his life, James previously had had those same thoughts.

He could so easily never have had the opportunity to meet Steven, let alone build the life they'd made together. But they did have a life together. Their love was strong, solid and unshakable. They both knew that loving Gerald would only strengthen their commitment, each to the other. They were determined to see this man, so good and so deserving of more, recover and find joy again in his life. Working together, to heal their friend, would be yet another bond between them and a proof of their trust in each other.

Gerald's head lifted from James' shoulder as he slowly pulled out of their embrace, "Thank you." he said with quiet, sincere dignity, "I'm going to get cleaned up." 

After he left the kitchen, James and Steven met each other's gaze and smiled, "It's just as you thought," James told him.

Steven took James' hand, his fingers lightly exploring the contours and curves of it, "How could it not be?" Steven answered, "When he lost Irene, he didn't just lose his wife, he lost his lover as well. Rick told me how affectionate they always were with each other. Beyond a few hugs from his children, Gerald hasn't touched anyone in months. It has to have an affect on the psyche. It must be like going through withdrawal."

He brought James' hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles, "It's so easy to take everything we share for granted. Not only is that person there to talk with and to share things with, but there are the tactile things. Not just making love," Steven stepped back, releasing James' hand, "but simple touches. Have you ever thought about how many times we touch each other in the course of a day?"

James shook his head.

"I'll bet it would surprise both of us just how many touches we actually share in that time-frame. To suddenly have that withdrawn, the warmth, comfort and love that each touch conveys," Steven's eyes filled with tears, "James." he whispered, his throat suddenly constricted.

James reached out and enfolded Steven into his embrace, "It's ok, baby. We're going to fix this. It's all right."

Steven relaxed into the comfort and strength of his lover's touch.

 * * *

Gerald stood under the warm shower spray, his body tense again, his thoughts in turmoil. He could still feel the warmth and comfort of his friend's embrace, how his body had yearned for it, and reveled in it. He sighed, and cursed softly as he felt his cock stir. 

Since Irene's death he'd not had an erection, had not experienced desire of any kind except one. The overwhelming desire to be with her. It wasn't that he contemplated suicide. That was something he would never do, it was just that he dreamed of things being as they had been before the accident. This world that he was left in, seemed empty. He felt desperately alone, even when he was surrounded by the love of his children and grandchildren.

But now there was this burgeoning desire for Steven and James. He squeezed his eyes tightly, burying his face in his hands. How could he even contemplate such a thing? His beloved Irene was gone. How could he possibly consider finding happiness, or even physical pleasure without her? Even now, his body was betraying him; his cock stiffened as that scene with Steven and James replayed in his head. 

In the darkness behind his closed lids, his thoughts strayed from impression to impression. The scent of them, each was different yet equally provocative. James had been warm from the sun, his scent stronger, musky male mixed with sunlight and suntan lotion. Steven's scent was more subtle, his fresh, clean yet masculine aroma had risen subtly with the warmth his body exuded. It aroused Gerald senses, drawing him into the past, to a place and time that he had reluctantly put behind him.

And when they touched him, dear God, had anything ever been so welcome? For those fleeting moments the pain receded, the desperate anguish diminished so far that he no longer felt like a helpless child, cowering in the dark, crying for the one person who would make it all better. Irene, who could not be there, who would never be there again.

He dropped his hands from his face and looked down the length of his body. He stared at his erection as though it were some unfamiliar and alien part of himself, something he'd never seen before and certainly nothing he welcomed. Slowly his hand moved down and he wrapped his fingers around himself. A groan burst from his throat as pleasure shuddered down his spine. His breath began to speed, his hand moved, slowly stroking.

"Ah God!" he groaned.

Images of Steven, of their past, appeared in his mind, being acted out like a play on a stage. His perspective shifted to the present, shifted to include James. The thoughts that filled his head were shocking in their conception, stunning for the sheer sensuality and daring of them. Another groan was torn from his throat. He felt the familiar tingling buildup that told him he was still very much a man. 

Suddenly, wrapped in the approaching pleasure came another image. An image of Irene as she moved beneath him, welcoming every pounding thrust of his cock. Irene, Steven, James. Each face vied for supremacy in his mind. With an anguished wail, Gerald pivoted and cut the flow of hot water. The shock of the shower spray, now icy cold, sliced through the images, shredding them like so much tissue paper. His lust disappeared as fast as his erection. Shaking and shivering with cold, he shut off the water completely. 

Shuddering, he stood frozen for a few seconds, his eyes wide, unseeing, as he fought to hold all his wildly careening emotions at bay. At last he stepped slowly from the shower, and taking a towel he began to dry himself, his expression mirroring the blank state of mind he achieved. Automatically, he returned to the bedroom and dressed. He sat on the edge of the bed, debating whether to wear shoes and socks. The only evidence of his buried agitation was the occasional twitching of his fingers as they sought to tighten into fists. 

 * * *

James had set the dining room table, lighting some candles to enhance the atmosphere. Gerald had rejoined them and volunteered to help. Steven had set him to tossing the dressing into the salad. They had exchanged several significant looks over Gerald's withdrawn and subdued mood; he wasn't making the slightest effort to put on a show of normalcy. 

The food was carried into the dining room and they began their meal. James and Steven carried the conversation; Gerald would not speak unless a question was directed his way. He played with the food on his plate, eating very little. Steven and James' own appetites were affected until the food seemed some tasteless mass that dared them to consume it.

Steven's nerves, stretched taut, hit the breaking point. He reached out and covered one of Gerald's hands with his own.

"Don't," Gerald told him without making eye contact.

"Don't what?" Steven asked.

"Don't touch me."Gerald elaborated, he looked up, his eyes bleak, "You don't have the right to touch me."

"You're right, Gerald, I don't have the right to touch you. I'm just trying to offer you some comfort." Steven told him quietly.

Gerald's face flushed, his eyes taking on a glittering anger, "I know what you're trying to offer. You've got no right," he snapped, "no right to make me feel..."

"What are you feeling Gerald?" James, seeing Steven's face blanch with hurt, decided it was time to intervene.

Gerald turned his anger on James, "And you, you're just as guilty. Trying to make me betray Irene."

"Is that what you'd be doing, Gerald? Did Irene tell you that she expected you to stay celibate and alone?" he demanded. Gerald didn't answer and James repeated sharply, "Did she?"

Gerald flinched, tears sparkling in his eyes. He shook his head, "We made a pact," he swallowed hard, tears clogging his throat, "We agreed that if something happened to either of us, the other would go on living."

James nodded, "That was good. Irene is very wise, she loves you so much. Did you notice that I said she loves you, present tense?"

Gerald nodded.

"That's because she's still with you, Gerald. She's an integral part of you and always will be. You do know that don't you?" James questioned.

Gerald nodded again.

"Do you think Steven and I would ever want to change that, that we would try to take that from you?"

He shook his head, tears starting down his cheeks. He turned to Steven, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he whispered desperately.

Steven stood and went to Gerald, who buried his face in his midriff. Anguished sobs wracked his body. James moved in behind him and they held him between them, James massaging his shoulders and back as Steven murmured words of comfort, his hand sliding through the thick strands of Gerald's hair. Eventually he quieted. Steven urged him to stand and he and James shepherded Gerald to their room. 

Steven steered him into the bathroom, "Why don't you get yourself cleaned up?. There's some aspirin in the medicine cabinet; I think you should take two or three, they'll help you to relax, ok?"

Gerald nodded and with a sigh, went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Steven drifted into James arms and laid his head on his shoulder, "Thank you. I would never have found the words."

James hugged him tightly, "You would have. I've just had all that experience at cross examining people. Gerald was trying to hide from his feelings, and we just had to make him see them."

Steven sighed, "We should go clear the table and clean up."

"You stay here, love. I don't think he should be left alone right now."

Steven began to protest.

"Hush, don't fuss. I'm only going to throw everything in the fridge, rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher. It won't take me long. Now do as I say." he gave Steven's ass a light swat.

Steven smiled, "I just love it when you go all alpha male on me."

James chuckled, "Too bad I can't show you just how alpha I'm feeling right now," he sobered, "Are we keeping Gerald with us tonight?"

"I'm going to try, is that all right?" 

"Of course, but you should make it clear that nothing is expected of him." James instructed, "I don't think he's ready for that yet, if ever."

Steven agreed. James left to take care of the cleanup. Steven sat on the bed and listened for Gerald's movements. He heard the toilet flush and the water in the sink running for a bit. A few minutes later, Gerald emerged from the bathroom. 

His face was freshly washed, his eyes and lips were still slightly puffy from his tears, but he looked much more serene and in control. He looked at Steven almost shyly, a hesitant smile trying to make its appearance.

Steven smiled in return and went to Gerald, taking him in his arms. He sighed, laying his head on Steven's shoulder as he slowly rubbed his back. Gerald could feel the tension drain away as exhaustion swept in.

"Ok now?" Steven asked.

"Yes." Gerald admitted quietly. He hadn't felt so at ease in months, it was a relief to drop his guard and release the pain that had imprisoned his heart.

"Gerald, we want you to sleep with us tonight." Steven could feel Gerald grow tense in his arms, "We don't expect anything from you, now or ever. If something happens or not, it's your decision, but we want you with us, neither one of us wants you to be alone."

Gerald pulled away feeling suddenly shy as butterflies took wing in his stomach, "Could we just sleep? I hate sleeping alone." he whispered. 

"Of course we can. Why don't you get undressed and get in bed, James is doing a quick cleanup in the kitchen and I'm going to make use of the bathroom for a few minutes."

Gerald nodded and started undressing, pulling his polo shirt over his head. He emerged from under it to see the bathroom door close as Steven went in to get ready for bed. Gerald was feeling very strange, excited, yet apprehensive, all underscored by a weariness that dragged at him unmercifully. He took off his shorts and folded them and his shirt, laying them neatly over a chair. He usually slept nude and debated for a moment then decided to keep his briefs. They gave him a feeling of security, even though he knew that neither Steven or James would try to force anything from him.




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 07



He pulled back the covers of the super-size king bed and crawled in. His mind tried to keep his body from relaxing, but was overwhelmed by the exhaustion brought on by his emotional outburst. Gerald lost the struggle to keep his eyes open and was asleep in seconds flat. 

James returned from kitchen duty and smiled at the sight of Gerald sound asleep in their bed. He went into the bathroom and joined Steven in their preparations for bed. They returned to the bedroom and Steven paused.

"He always did look like an angel when he slept." Steven whispered reverently. 

James smiled, "No more than you, love." 

He took Steven into his arms and kissed him soundly, throughly. 

Steven emerged from his embrace, his face flushed, "You, on the other hand, are pure devil."

James chuckled, "Just wanted to remind you who you belong to."

"As if I'd ever forget," Steven scoffed, but he wore a pleased expression on his face.

He rounded the bed and slid in next to Gerald. James stayed on the side nearest the door and slipped under the covers on his other side. Gerald stirred and moved to his side, mumbling softly in his sleep. He ended up facing Steven, snuggling against him. Steven sighed and pulled him close. James moved in and spooned Gerald from behind. Steven found James' hand and wove their fingers together. A few yawns later and all three were in the arms of Morpheus.  * * *

Several hours later, Gerald surfaced from sleep, his body tensing then slowly relaxing as he felt the comfort of the tangle of limbs that enwrapped him. A slow, joyous smile teased his lips. He opened his eyes. In the dim glow from the bathroom nightlight, he could just make out Steven and James.

Gerald had moved to his back. James was snuggled in on one side, Steven on the other. Each had laid their head on his shoulders. Arms and legs draped over him, he was cocooned in warm, human and very male flesh. 

His smile blossomed as his cock began to fill. He could feel Steven, already erect against his thigh. James' cock was just beginning to stir. Both men were still asleep. 

Gerald turned his head to James, whispering his name. James murmured stirring slightly then woke with a start.

"What is it, baby?" he murmured sleepily.

Gerald grinned and chuckled; he was sure James, in his sleepy state, thought he was talking to Steven. He bent his head and kissed the top of James head. 

"Wake up, lover, I need you." he whispered, huskily.

"Ummm," James' hand began moving over Gerald's chest. 

Gerald shivered and turned to Steven, repeating the procedure, gently waking him. James and Steven soon were both fully awake and aware of who had woken them. James leaned up on his elbow and hovered over Gerald. On the other side, Steven did the same. 

"Are you sure?" Steven asked quietly as he gazed down at Gerald's smiling face.

Gerald nodded, "I need to touch you," he turned to James, "Both of you."

James smiled and bent down, taking Gerald's lips in a warm, tender kiss. Gerald opened for him and their tongues explored with a slow, languid grace. They moaned at the exquisite pleasure of it. When James released him, Steven started his own explorations. Gerald returned his kiss fervently. Together and without a word, they reached for Gerald's briefs, pushing them down and off, their own following. 

James pushed the sheet down to the foot of the bed, wanting to see the two beautiful men sharing his bed, the two beautiful men with whom he was going to make love. 

Hands touched warm, yielding skin, caressing and arousing. Breathy moans, murmurs of pleasure and the subtle sounds of the bed disturbed the silence of the room as bodies shifted and combined. The pure, rich scent of male rut perfumed the air.

Gerald was lost to all coherent thought. His mind moved backward in time to a place where this was the most natural and welcome order of things. His senses were raw, open. Taste, touch, smell, sight and sound, all were inundated, filled and overflowing with the undiluted essence of man.

A seeking mouth found his. Another found his nipples, first one then the other, licking, nipping and sucking until he was gasping into the mouth that held his captive. He pulled away and nearly came up off the bed when a broad-fingered hand wrapped his cock in gentle steel and began stroking. Another hand found his full, aching balls, rolling and squeezing firmly, yet gently insisting. He lay panting, stunned by the exquisite pleasure.

He felt the rock-hard lengths of James and Steven pressed against his body. They undulated against him with a steady insistent rhythm. Gerald's own hands moved down until he captured those throbbing poles. He was rewarded with growls and gasps of pleasure. 

The heat rose. Their sweat-slicked bodies writhed in an ancient, primitive motion as one thought consumed their bodies and minds. The pleasure built to immeasurable heights, growing and growing until it burst spectacularly free.

With a deep, groaning wail, Gerald came. Thick ropes of seed, creamy white and hot, flew from the swollen cap of his quivering cock, arching up to land on his chest and stomach. Twin roars of release burst from James and Steven as they both shot. Their spurting semen added to Gerald's own, coating his shuddering body. The pleasure wrung them out, then slowly receded, leaving a wondrous afterglow. Sated, the three of them sprawled together as their racing heart-beats and laboring breaths resumed their normal rhythm. 

James rose up and bent over Gerald's body. His tongue slid over Gerald's stomach causing it to quiver and tighten. Steven joined him and together they gathered the cum that had mingled and mixed from the three of them. Steven and James met mouth to mouth over Gerald's body and exchanged a hot, languid kiss. They again bent and gathered the remains of the heady fluid and this time, rising up to Gerald, one at a time they fed him their thick male cream. 

Gerald accepted their gifts, their tongues, their touches and their love. His heart opened, beating free, unrestrained by pain for the first time in months. Pulling the two of them close, he kissed their stubbled cheeks. 

"Thank you," he whispered, then paused. "I think I'm ready to go home now."

"Well darn," James quipped, "just when things were getting interesting." 

The three of them dissolved into light-hearted chuckles. 

Steven cupped Gerald's cheek, "Are you sure you're all right now?"

Gerald placed his hand over Steven's, "Oh yes," he answered, "You made me see that trying to stop living wouldn't bring Irene back. She'd be madder than a hornet at the way I've been acting."

"You needed time to grieve, Gerald," James told him.

"We were just afraid you were going too far, we were afraid we might lose you." Steven whispered.

Gerald kissed him lightly, "I'm not going anywhere. I've got too much left too do, to much to live for. My kids, my grandkids and my very dear friends," he kissed Steven again and then James.

Steven sighed, "I don't know about you two, but I'm tired. Anyone want a shower?"

There was a short silence.

"I want to stay here, just like this, until morning," Gerald said softly.

James and Steven nodded their agreement. James reached down and pulled the sheet back over them. They settled down in a sprawling heap of tangled limbs and contented sighs and again courted sleep.

 * * *

That same morning, after showers, and breakfast, Gerald, Steven and James packed and left for Illinois. Steven called the company he employed to look after the house to tell them that they were leaving. They would see that the refrigerator was emptied and that everything else was put to rights for their next visit. James again employed the use of the company jet, so they were not constrained by the need for commercial transport. 

There was a car waiting for them at the airport and they arrived at Dale and Rick's all smiles and totally relaxed. Dale and Rick came out of the house in a rush to welcome them. They were amazed at the change in Gerald. The pale, solemn man who had left so reluctantly had been replaced by a tanned, laughing man who glowed with health and well being.

Gerald greeted his sons, for he considered Dale his son as well as Rick, with hearty hugs. James and Steven were also treated to hugs from Rick and Dale. Gerald's bags were unloaded from the trunk and they all headed into the house.

Dale quickly brewed up a pot of coffee and brought out an apple pie.

"You must have just baked this one," Gerald quipped, "Rick never wastes time polishing off your pies."

"You're right about that," Dale answered, "he usually manages to finish one off in two days." He gave Rick and impish grin.

"Hey, I have help, you know," Rick defended himself, "As I recall, you eat your fair share."

The three older men looked on, amused by this bit of teasing.

"That's right I guess," Dale admitted, "As I remember, we had the last one in bed. You were wearing it and I was eating it."

"Dale!" Rick's cheeks flushed crimson.

Gerald and James began laughing. Steven had just taken a sip of his coffee and narrowly avoided spitting a mouth-full at Dale's outrageous remark. As it was, he did a bit of sputtering and coughing. 

James rubbed his back, "You ok, babe?" 

Steven nodded, then cleared his throat, "Apple pie? We should have tried that in Florida."

James and Gerald stared at him open mouthed and actually blushed. Dale and Rick exchanged grins.

"Um, Dad?" Rick began, "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"No, and don't even go there son," Gerald warned. He turned a jaundiced eye to Steven, "You should know better, now these two are going to be hounding me for details." 

"No we won't." Dale told him quietly. All eyes turned to Dale, "We don't need to know how or why, we're just happy you're back."

Rick nodded his agreement and the moment was saved.

Gerald rose and took his boys into his arms for a three way hug, "Good Lord above, I've missed you." He held them tightly and rocked, his eyes closed as happiness and contentment swept through him, "It's all right, boys. Everything's all right."

The kitchen was filled with a deep, comfortable silence. Love gathered them into its sphere, holding them safe and warm. James and Steven looked at each other and joined hands. Unspoken was the knowledge that their actions had borne such shining results. They were each proud of the other and eager to express their love for each other in private.

Gerald released Dale and Rick, "I miss her, but she's in my heart and I know a part of her will always be with me. And with you too."

They nodded their agreement, Rick struggling to hold back the tears that threatened. He reached for Dale's hand and found it meeting his mid-way. Dale knew and he was there, lending his strength and love. Rick's eyes met his and saw that love and understanding boldly painted there. He smiled and silently thanked God for this most treasured of men. 

Gerald turned and addressed the room at large, "Who's up for a barbeque?"

There was a round of laughter and several excited yeah's. It was decided that James and Steven would spend the night. Gerald too was going to stay over. Rick and Dale made a mad dash to the grocery for steaks and raided the deli for pasta salad, macaroni and cheese and baked beans. They also bought some fresh bags of salad greens and a case of beer. 

By the time they got home with their purchases, Gerald had the barbeque ready. James and Steven had been recruited to put fresh sheets on the beds in the room that would be theirs and the one that would be Gerald's, and had come back downstairs to keep Gerald company until Dale and Rick got back. 

Rick and Gerald volunteered for chef's duty and barbequed the steaks, while Dale, Steven and James prepared the rest of the food which mainly consisted of heating what needed to be hot and putting the salad together. The table was set and everything ready when Rick and Gerald brought the steaks in. They served themselves buffet style from the kitchen counter and bringing their plates to the table, they dug in. 

The meal was accompanied by easy conversation and murmurs of approval over the steak and other dishes. Although the side dishes all came from the grocery deli, they did a good job and the food tasted wonderful. The apple pie that had been ignored earlier when things had taken an emotional turn, made a reappearance, accompanied by vanilla bean ice cream. Eventually everyone rose groaning from the table with complaints of having eaten too much. 

They all pitched in to cleanup, then adjourned to the front porch to enjoy the approaching dusk. James, Gerald and Steven had all changed into jeans and tee or polo shirts before the cooking began, so they were all comfortable and relaxed as they settled into chairs on the front porch. Rick and Dale opted to sit on the edge of the porch with their bare feet buried in the cool, damp grass.

The five of them sat mostly in companionable silence as the light grew dimmer with the setting sun. Darkness brought the chirping of crickets and other night creatures. Tree frogs sang and in the distance they could here an occasional moo and once the braying of donkey. There was general laughter at the sound and Rick explained that their neighbor kept a donkey along with his horses. He had a small pony cart and was occasionally seen on the road with the donkey between the traces in lieu of a pony.

A quarter moon rode high in the sky and myriad stars made their appearance. A light, fresh breeze, laden with the smell of green growing things, stirred the leaves on the trees causing them to sway with a hypnotic rhythm. It also brought a low, mysterious whisper issuing from the surrounding corn fields.

"By George, it's peaceful out here," James observed quietly, "No wonder you love it."

"Now that we've got you hooked on all this country charm," Gerald joked, "you and Steven are welcome to drop in for a visit anytime."

"We'll take you up on that" Steven promised.

They fell silent, listening to the soothing sounds of the night while watching the lights of an occasional plane as it moved slowly across the darkened sky. 

Steven yawned, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to turn in. We had an early start and while it's been fun, it's been long too."

James and Gerald agreed with him. Dale and Rick decided to stay up for a while. After wishing everyone a good night and exchanging rounds of hugs, they curled up on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie. Upstairs, Steven and James faced a smiling Gerald. 

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us?" Steven questioned him, "You know we'd welcome you."

Gerald's smile grew broader, "I know and yes, I'm sure," Gerald asserted, "I love you both, and I'm so grateful for they way you helped me last night, but I'm ok now. You two need to be alone and I'm not ready to go any further with anyone yet."

"We understand," James told him, "If you need us, the door's open."

The three of them exchanged hugs and parted company. James was actually secretly relieved that Gerald had opted to leave them alone. Although last night had been wonderful and exciting with the addition of Gerald to their bed, James found himself wanting his lover. He wanted Steven's full attention and the closeness that happened when they were wrapped up in each other, totally and completely. He also anticipated the tight clasp of Steven's sheath as he moved within his warm, welcoming depths. James soon got his way and was making sweet, slow love to his partner. 

Dale and Rick came upstairs and celebrated their father's return to life with a vigorous round of mating. Rick was determined to punish Dale for embarrassing him earlier in the kitchen. His method of punishment was to bring his lover to the point of orgasm again and again, stopping at the brink until Dale was frantic and begging for release.

Rick finally gave in, only because his cock could no longer take the sweet massage of Dale's warm, velvet-soft chute. Together they came, Dale almost crying with relief. Rick was worried for a moment that he'd gone too far until a drowsy and sated Dale made him promise to do it again tomorrow. 

The household settled down to sleep and even Gerald, in his solitary bed, was content. He was secure in the knowledge that Irene was with him and that he was surrounded by the love of his friends and family. Sleep came easily and his dreams were peaceful and serene.

The next morning saw Steven and James take their leave. They promised to come visit again soon and offered the use of the house in Florida to Dale, Rick and Gerald for whenever they felt the need of it. They also extracted the promise that the three of them would come visit in New York. After several rounds of hugs and kisses they were on their way.

Rick, Dale and Gerald went back inside. Gerald sat at the table, looking thoughtfully into his second cup of coffee.

"I think I'll go to the cemetery today," he told them, "I've only been the one time. I think I'll go and spend some time there this afternoon."

"Do you want us to come with you, Dad?" Rick asked. He was clearly concerned.

"Now don't fuss, Rick. I'm ok. I'm not backpedaling. I just thought it might be nice to indulge in a little peaceful contemplation. You know I'm not a church going man, but God and I have our conversations. I think it's time we renewed our acquaintance and this will be a good place to do it," he revealed with simple sincerity, "I would appreciate a lift up to the house. Normally I'd walk, but I've got to haul my luggage home."

They all made the trip to the Hunter farm, bringing in his luggage and taking it upstairs for him. Gerald smiled indulgently and allowed them to mother-hen him for a bit, then shooed them out. He went upstairs and unpacked, laughing when he realized that most of the clothes would have to be hauled back downstairs to be washed. After putting his other personal items away he prepared to head downstairs with an armload of clothing. He paused by the dresser and smiled wistfully at the sight of Irene's hair brush. His gaze was drawn to the framed photo of the two of them. They looked so happy and carefree as they smiled into the camera.

"The most beautiful woman in Illinois," he said softly, "I miss you so much Rene, but I promise I won't let you down again. I'll be here for our babies and for their babies too. Stay with me Rene, you're my strength." 

He gazed at the silent picture then sighed and made his way downstairs to start the laundry.

Several hours later he arrived at the cemetery. He walked through the peaceful grounds, following the meandering paths that wound among the graves. The sun was shining and a warm breeze caressed his face. He was filled with an inner peace and knew that he needed this, needed to spend this quiet time alone.

As he approached the site of Irene's grave, he paused in surprise at the sight of the stranger who stood there, his head bowed. He was medium-tall, about six feet, with dark hair liberally touched with gray. His build was average, yet conveyed a certain strength. Gerald couldn't see his face. He wore a simple dark blue, long-sleeved, button down shirt, tucked into faded jeans. On his feet were white athletic shoes.

Gerald watched for a moment until the stranger became aware of his presence. The man turned to face him. He seemed somehow familiar. Gerald moved forward as he prepared to walk away.

"Wait," he called. The stranger halted, "Did you know my wife?" he asked.

The man nodded, "Yes, I knew her, a very long time ago," his voice held infinite sadness.

Gerald felt an overwhelming need to know more, "I'm Gerald Hunter." he held out his hand. 

The man took it and gave it a firm shake,"Jack Becker," he replied.

"Becker?" Gerald questioned, then his eyes went wide, "Jack Becker? Oh my God, Irene spoke of you so many times. She wanted so much to know where you were."




The Farmer & Dale Ch. 07



Gerald couldn't believe that here, now, was the brother that Irene had mourned. Jack had left home at sixteen after their puritanical father had discovered he was gay. Irene had been three years his junior and did not understand what was going on, only that her beloved older brother had left. When she had questioned her parents, she was told in no uncertain terms that she was never to mention his name again. 

It wasn't until years later that she learned the reason for his banishment. She had been outraged that her parents would throw their son, her only brother, away so cruelly. The Becker's were not particularly loving parents and this knowledge put an even bigger strain on the lukewarm relationship that existed between them and their daughter.

"She spoke of me?" Jack questioned. 

"Yes, she kept hoping that you might contact her."

"Then she didn't know why I left," he stated, a slight tinge of bitterness in his voice.

"She knew," Gerald told him quietly, "she didn't care. Look, would you like to go somewhere and get a cup of coffee?"

"You want to have coffee with a gay man?" Jack asked, skeptically eyeing the virile specimen before him.

"Yes," Gerald said decisively, "You're gay? So what? I'm bi. I have one son and two daughters who are straight. My son has a wife, my girls have husbands, they all have kids. My other son is bi and married to a gay man. We're all something. What difference does it make?"

Jack gave Gerald a slow smile that caused Gerald's heart to flutter, "I wish everyone felt like you do."

"To me it just makes sense. Why make such a fuss about something that shouldn't matter? Now," he asked, "how about that coffee? Or better yet, it's getting late and I'm hungry. How about dinner?"

Jack looked deep into Gerald's, he nodded, "Dinner sounds good."

 * * *

Two years later, Rick was sitting at the kitchen table scanning the New York Times. Dale stood behind him, gazing over his shoulder. Steven and James had sent the paper, the bestseller list highlighted, the top two slots circled. 

"How about that?" Dale shook his head in wonder, "You do notice who's on top, don't you?" Yeah, yeah, and I'll show you who's on top later." he promised, "Dad and Jack are gonna pop their buttons, they'll be so proud," Rick continued, his patented grin in place, "Did you ever think we'd be seeing this?"

"Us, holding the top spots on the New York Times Bestseller List? Not in my wildest dreams," Dale admitted. He bent down and kissed the top of Rick's head, "Steven and James are still arriving tomorrow aren't they?"

Rick nuzzled the hand Dale had rested on his shoulder, "Oh yeah. Dad and Jack have already got their room ready up at the house. Steven said to tell you he expects that killer macaroni and cheese at the barbeque tomorrow."

Dale chuckled, "You know, so much has happened in the last couple of years, some of it sad, like your mom's accident, but most of it's been wonderful. We got your dad to meet Steven again and now he and James are Gerald's closest friends. And the way Jack showed up when he did was nothing short of a miracle, especially since he and your dad fell in love," Dale sighed, "I mean really, how romantic is that?"

Rick laid the paper down and rose from the table, "What about us?" he questioned, as he took Dale into his arms, "Our meeting was pretty miraculous too. And as for romance," he gave Dale a long, slow, sultry-hot kiss, "You want romance? Come with me." 

He took Dale by the hand and lead him out of the kitchen, grabbing a blanket on his way out the back door.

"Where are we going?" Dale asked with a smile, sure that he already knew the answer.

Rick turned back and with a grin said, "I'm going to make love with my baby out under the trees. Is that romantic enough for you?"

Dale forged ahead and pulled Rick with him, "Oh yeah. Hurry up, would you?"

Rick laughed joyously, "Lead on lover, lead on."

Once again, sheltered by the oaks and maples of their own personal forest, Dale and Rick pledged their love to one another with their bodies, their words and most importantly, their hearts.

The End 



The Farmer & Dale



Dale's stomach clenched. The man walked with a grace and confidence that sent a shiver down his spine. This was a man filled with self assurance, a man in charge of himself, a man who could easily take control of any situation. It was there, plainly stated, written in the very air between them. Dale felt his breath ratchet a notch higher. He silently admonished himself to stop being ridiculous. This farmer was after all, just a man, a man just like any other man.

That thought came to a screeching halt when the man removed his sunglasses.

Dale found himself pinned by a gaze of laser-like intensity that left him breathless. He stared into the most vividly beautiful, blue-green eyes he'd ever seen. They were shaded by perfect fans of honey colored lashes. The corners of his eyes showed light laugh lines. Dale was caught and held, momentarily paralyzed, frozen until the man held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Rick Hunter. You must be Mrs. Vaden's grandson. We sure were sorry to hear about her passing. She was a sweet lady."

Dale broke from his paralysis, taking Rick's hand in a firm grip. He was grateful now that he'd kept using those hand strengtheners. Rick's grip was strong, the muscles and sinews in his hand powerful, uncompromising, and yet surprisingly gentle. He was a man well aware of his strength and careful to not cause unintentional hurt.

The warmth of Rick's hand swept over Dale. To his everlasting embarrassment he felt himself blush, a fact that had him silently cursing. He hadn't blushed since he was an adolescent, not even Tony had had this effect on him.

Dale nervously cleared his throat, "Hi," he managed, "and thanks. Grams was a sweetheart, she'll be missed. I'm Dale, by the way, Dale Vaden."

Rick nodded, "Pleased to meet you Dale. While I was in the neighborhood, so to speak, thought I'd stop and introduce myself, see if there's anything you need."

A smile graced Dale face. A smile that, unbeknownst to him, took a certain farmers breath away. "Thanks, Rick, you know, I could use the name of someone who could help me clear out these trees. Would you happen to know of anyone off hand?"

Rick gave the trees a considering look, "I could help you. Dad's got a backhoe at his place, just down the road. We could knock these down and pull them out in no time. When do you want to start?" 

Taken aback by Rick generous offer, Dale was momentarily speechless, then rallied, "Wow, that's really nice of you to offer, but I'm sure you've already got plenty to keep you busy." He indicated the field behind them.

"Actually, I'm pretty much done." 

"I admit I don't know squat about farming, but don't you have to plow the fields and all that?" Dale asked.

Rick grinned, "You're right, city boy, you don't know farming. We use the no-till method. No plowing. We spray fertilizer and weed control. Plant the seed and it's done. It's the harvest where all the work is now. These fields are done. Between me, my dad, and my brother, we get this part of the chore done pretty quick. So how about it? I've got the time, when do you want to start?"

Dale gave in gratefully, "Tomorrow?"

"You got it, I'll be here about seven. Does that suit you? Or is that too early for a city boy?" Rick teased.

"I think I can handle that, farm boy. I'll see you at seven." Dale retorted with a grin.

Rick returned the grin, slid his sunglasses back on and headed for the tractor. Dale couldn't help watching the movement of the nicely curved cheeks that filled out the seat of Rick's jeans. He surreptitiously adjusted himself. The man was every bit as devastating walking away. 

With a couple of well placed and practiced steps, Rick swung himself back up on the tractor. He pulled on his gloves and started the beast up. With a wave, he headed off across the field, Dale's gaze following. An errant breeze sent a lock of hair fluttering across his forehead. As he reached up to push it away, he noticed the smell. 

Leather and sweat. Rick's gloves and Rick's sweat. Dale inhaled deeply, his cock responding instantly, filling, elongating, demanding to be set free of its imprisoning and too tight confinement. Dale looked around. The nearest neighbor was the Hunters, a quarter mile down the road, and his place was surrounded by open fields. Even in this ravaged grove, he was semi- sheltered. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He'd never masturbated outside. This was too good an opportunity to be missed, especially with Rick's scent urging him on.

Dale unbuttoned his 501's, pushing them and his briefs down just enough to free himself. His cock sprang free, fiercely rigid and ready. The tip was already leaking. He leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes. Taking another deep lung-full of Rick's scent, he wrapped his aromatic fingers around the thick column of meat that demanded release. 

Dale gave a grunt and tensed as he began the familiar movements. His fingers squeezed and stroked. He reached down with his left hand, holding his seven and a half inch length steady as his palm swept over the wet, purple hued head, spreading precum. A groan inched its way out of his throat. He brought his right hand back to his face for another whiff of Rick. The scent was now mingled with his own. His tongue flicked out, sliding over his palm, tasting the tart, tangy flavors of precum, sweat and leather. The combination was potent. He anointed his palm with saliva, took hold of his cock and began to steadily jack himself. The pleasure built with each stroke, quickly reaching the point of no return.

"Ah God!," he gasped as his load blew. Repeated spurts of thick, white cum arced out and away from his straining body, draping over the grass, sliding down the stems to feed the earth below. Dale's knees gave out. He dropped down, head bent as he rested for a moment. As his breath and heartbeat slowly restored themselves, he opened his eyes and looked around. All was quiet. He grinned and shook his head as he laughed weakly.

Jeez, I gotta get out more, he confessed to himself as he slowly rose. Dale tucked himself in, ambling back to the house. He found himself looking eagerly forward to tomorrow and as for now? His goal was the pitcher of iced tea that graced his refrigerator.

 * * *

Dale finished the last dish and placed it in the drainer. Seven a.m., right on time. He could hear the approaching drone of a heavy piece of machinery. He shook his head and smiled, Rick was true to his word. Fortunately, Dale was an early riser, he'd been up since five. He covered the draining dishes with a dishtowel, unlocked the door between the kitchen and the mud room, unlocked the back door and stepped out. 

It was another beautiful day. The sky was clear blue, a few clouds moving majestically overhead. Dale followed the concrete walk around to the front of the house and down to the gravel driveway, just as Rick turned in. He could clearly see the big grin plastered to Rick's face. That shit, he thought fondly, he didn't think I'd be up.

Dale motioned Rick to drive on back to the grove. He stopped back in the mud room for a pair of leather gloves, a wry smile on his face as he held them to his nose and took a sniff. He shook his head. It just wasn't the same without Rick's contribution. Walking back to the grove, he watched Rick climb down, then reach across the floorboards for something. He pulled first one, then a larger, long, bulky, black case from the backhoe.

Rick set both cases on the ground and waited for Dale. "I see you're up." he quipped as Dale reached him.

"Yeah, man, it was a real chore." Dale rejoined sarcastically.

Rick laughed and slapped him playfully on the back, "No, man, the real chores are about to begin. You ever use a chainsaw?"

Dale's brows rose as he shook his head.

"Well, you're about to learn, that is if you're not a total klutz. You're not one of these people who trip over their own feet are you?" For some reason Rick seemed to enjoy the hell out of teasing Dale.

"I can walk and chew gum at the same time, if that's what you're asking." 

"Good, in fact that's great. So here's the plan."

Rick gave Dale the rundown. Rick was going to start at the outside edge of the grove and pull out a half dozen trees and haul them further up into the yard where Dale could work on them. Dale was to use the smaller chainsaw, cutting the branches off which they'd gather in one big pile. As soon as Rick got the trees down, he'd use the bigger chainsaw and go to work on the trunks of the trees, cutting them into manageable pieces. He asked Dale if he wanted to save any of the wood for his fireplace, to which Dale replied in the affirmative. It was decided they'd save the best wood for Dale's use, and burn the branch pile. Rick had already alerted a buddy of his that there was some wood to be hauled at the Vaden place, so the rest would be taken care of by his friend.

"You don't waste any time do you?" Dale asked in amazement. Rick had the whole thing planned out.

"Farmer's can't waste time, wasted opportunities can mean the difference between getting in the harvest, as opposed to watching it rot in the field while it rains." he explained with a wry smile, his blue-green eyes twinkling. "Now, let's get you checked out on the chainsaw." 

Rick opened the smaller case, brought out the chainsaw and explained its operation to Dale. He donned safety glasses, handing Dale a second pair. Using one of the trees that was already on the ground, he demonstrated the chainsaw's proper use, then handed it over to Dale. He watched as Dale, at first hesitantly, then with growing confidence, wielded it. He corrected a few things concerning his stance, making sure he handled it in the safest possible way. Satisfied, Rick climbed on the backhoe and they began.

Dale found Rick's closeness a bit of a distraction at first. He'd worried he might throw a bone as they worked together. He felt like groaning as he watched Rick's tight ass do interesting things as he mounted the backhoe. Several hours later, his one worry was, would he make it through the day. 

By no means out of shape, Dale ate right and exercised regularly, but this he was unprepared for, this intense physical labor. Rick on the other hand seemed to breeze through the day. Granted he spent part of it operating the backhoe, but after the trees were down, he took up the big chainsaw and began cutting the tree trunks. The chainsaw he used was far larger than the one Dale wielded. Dale felt the strain in the muscles of his arms, shoulders and back. Muscles he wished he could remain ignorant of were clamoring their protests. He could only imagine their silent screams had he been using the large chainsaw all day.

The men stopped for lunch, walking back to the house. Dale had a variety of cold cuts and cheeses from which they constructed sandwiches. They also munched on cut up veggies, which they dipped in ranch dressing. Dale offered beer and was about to take one for himself, until Rick vetoed the idea. No drinking while operating the chainsaws, he insisted. They settled for iced tea, Rick also insisting that Dale drink at least one large glass of water as well, to avoid dehydration.

Both men had worked up quite a sweat and had dispensed with their shirts on the walk back to the house. Dale had perked up at the sight. He had to admit that the scenery had vastly improved when Rick peeled off his clinging tee. There was no denying the man was built. Farm chores had done wonders for his physique.

Rick's pecs were firm, solid, slabs of muscle that shifted smoothly with each movement. He ran his hands over the damp, golden hair that had been matted down by sweat, his nipples firming at the contact. Dale shivered. His own nipples tightened, not only from the random breezes that cooled his sweat-dampened skin, but from Rick's actions and the sight of each hard level of his washboard abs. With his broad shoulders, tightly muscled arms, vee shaped torso that flowed down to trim waist, perfectly proportioned hips and legs, Rick was a woman's, not to mentions a gay or bi man's, wet dream come true. Dale would have been surprised to know that Rick was casting more than a few glances his way. The same breeze that caused Dale's nipples to pinch tight, had brought his warm musky scent to Rick's nostril. Not only did his nose register the scent, but his cock had as well. He was glad when they reached the house, and he could excuse himself to use the bathroom. He washed up, splashing cold water on his face and the back of his neck. All the while he kept picturing Dale. 

Of similar height, Dale being an inch or two shorter, he was possessed of, what Rick thought of as an athlete's build. Lean and strong, with firm bundles of muscles in his arms and legs, his chest and stomach were taut and solid, his buttocks tight, with an enticing flex that occurred when he walked or bent. The dark reddish brown hair that topped his head also lightly covered his forearms and chest. Rick cussed softly as he recalled those tightly pinched nipples. The thought of taking one into his mouth to nibble, had his cock standing at attention. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled a rueful smile. I gotta get laid, he thought. 

He opened his jeans and with some maneuvering and some judiciously placed cold water, his protesting erection subsided. He shivered, thinking once again of the advantage women had over men. At least they could hide when they were horny, instead of having their bodies broadcast it to who ever happened to look their way. He wondered what Dale would think if he came out of the bathroom with a hardon. A nifty little fantasy began in his head. He pictured Dale, falling to his knees, eager to swallow his raging rod. Said rod began responding. Rick sighed, and again applied the cold water. This time he kept his mind blank, and tucking his chastened appendage away, rejoined Dale. 

After lunch, they donned their shirts, which had dried out in the sun where they'd left them draped over an old clothes line. Picking up where they left off, they continued for several more hours, until Rick called a halt. He'd watched Dale carefully and knew that he was sore and tired. Hell, he was tired himself. They packed the chainsaws into their cases and carried them up to the house, leaving them in the mud room.

Dale opened the refrigerator and indicating the beer, asked, "Now?"

Rick grinned, "Now." 

Dale handed him a long necked bottle, each twisting off the cap and taking a deep swallow. Twin sighs of pleasure and relief echoed in the room.

Rick studied Dale's tired face, "Too much for you, city boy?" He asked, with teasing concern.

"Truth?" Dale replied, "Just about. I haven't been this tired since...hell, I'm not sure I've ever been this tired." He took another swig of his beer.

Rick set his bottle down and moved behind Dale, his big hands closing over his shoulders where he began a firm, soothing massage. Such a move was natural for Rick, his family was casually demonstrative, easily exchanging hugs, hand shakes, and kisses.

Dale couldn't help the groan that crawled from his throat. He'd tensed at Rick's initial touch, but it wasn't possible to remain tense while Rick worked magic on muscles that screamed for relief.

"Here's what you do." Rick told him as he worked Dale's aching muscles, "Run a tub full of water, hot as you can stand it, throw in some Epsom salts, if you have any, and soak. Then get your ass to bed, cause there's more of the same tomorrow, buddy." He released Dale with a firm pat on the back and took up his beer, gulping it down.

"I'm going to leave the backhoe and walk down to mom and dad's. There's no sense driving it back when were going to be using it for the next few days." Rick told him as he headed out the back door.

Dale followed, "Well wait a second, I can give you ride."

Rick snorted. "Save your gas, man, it's just a quarter mile," he scoffed, "but thanks for the offer. Now go take that bath. You're a might odiferous, if you know what I mean." 

No way was he going to admit just how much he liked that odor or how much it turned him on. Not to mention the kind of ride he really wanted.

Dale grinned and called after him, "You better take your own advice, you're not exactly a sweet rosebud yourself."

Rick flipped him off and headed down the driveway. The sound of Dale's laughter melted over him, a feeling of well-being suffusing him. As he walked, his smile faded, his stomach tightening, quivering. 

"Dale Vaden." he whispered. His stomach did a flip. Oh God, he thought, I think I'm in trouble. Anticipation and dread warred as he arrived at his parent's house, unlocked his truck, climbed inside and headed home. 

 * * *

The next two days passed in the same way. At lunch, which they always ate shirtless, they talked, taking the opportunity to get to know each other. Rick questioned Dale about his occupation, intrigued when Dale revealed he was a writer.

"What kind of books do you write?" he asked, "I don't recall reading anything with your name on it." Rick fired the first salvo in their usual badger sessions.

"To begin with, I write under a pseudonym. You know what that means, don't you, farm boy?" Dale had taken to teasing Rick, just as much as Rick teased him.

"Uh gee, I ain't sure mister, splain it to me, would you, please?" Rick's feigned stupidity caused them both to chuckle.

"All right, smart ass, Keith Adams, that's the name I write under." Dale confessed a bit sheepishly. 

He was always reluctant for people to know his pen name. Like many writers, he felt parts of himself were displayed in each book. If a person knew he was the author, they could also reveal those parts of himself he'd just as soon keep hidden, Anonymity was comforting.

Rick gave him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding?" 

Dale denied it with a shake of his head.

"Man, I've got every single one of your books!" he enthused, "Your last one, Bake Sale, man, some of those scenes literally had me howling. When the one chef was killed by the exploding cake? Even though the death itself wasn't funny, the tongue in cheek way you wrote the scene was brilliant. I gotta tell you Dale, that was black humor at its finest."

Again for the first time in years, Dale felt himself blush. Rick's praise and enthusiasm touched him like no other. To say he was pleased was an understatement.

"Thanks, man, I'm glad you liked it. I thought it turned out rather well myself."

"Wait til the neighbors hear we've got a celebrity in our midst." Rick continued, until he noticed the somewhat panicked expression on Dale's face. "What's wrong?"

Dale took a deep breath, "I'd just as soon you didn't mention this to anyone." He paused for a moment, considering his words, "I've had a few problems, in the past, from over-zealous fans. I feel like a fool even having to say that, but some people get carried away. You'd think they'd save that shit for movie stars and such, but I guess some people aren't too discriminating."

Rick nodded his understanding, "I won't say a word. And what do you mean by that, aren't too discriminating, crap? You're a talented, good-looking man. I might stalk you, if I had a few drinks in me." Rick sought to lighten the mood and succeeded.

Dale pursed his lips, frowning, "You asshole, let's go back to work." 

 * * *

The fourth day began much the same as the first three, Rick arrived promptly at seven and swung out of his truck. He made his way around to the back and entered, smiling as the familiar smell of coffee wafted to his nostrils. He stepped through the doorway to find a cup waiting on the table. A grin lit his face as he seated himself and brought the pungent brew to his nose, inhaling deeply before ingesting that first exquisite sip. A heartfelt groan of appreciation rumbled in his chest. 




The Farmer & Dale



He set the cup down and looked at Dale, his grin renewing itself. Dale stood shaking his head, his own smile playing over his face.

"I can't help it, man, you've got the best coffee in the county, hell probably the whole state."

On their second day, Rick had discovered Dale's coffee. Dale had some special blend of beans he bought from a place in Seattle, which he ground himself. The stuff was heavenly. Since that first taste, Rick made it a point to start their work day with a cup of Dale's coffee.

Dale watched Rick as he nursed the treasured cup. His honey blonde hair was tousled, blown about by the breeze before he'd entered the house. Dale was seized with a sudden impulse to cross the room and run his fingers through the soft, silky strands. He felt himself begin to stiffen. Hastily, he took a chair at the table and concentrated on his own cup, silently cursing himself for a fool. 

He looked up to find Rick's intense, blue-green tinged, gaze on him. A silent message seemed to flash between them, the air suddenly tense, electric. Rick broke the look, taking another sip from his cup. Dale sat, still and silent, his breath fast and shallow, his heart racing. He felt like the rabbit that cowered in the tall grass, frozen with fear, as the predator passed. In this case there was no fear, there was only the hope that the predator would strike.

"I thought we'd do something different today." Rick announced. "Give those poor, city boy muscles a chance to flex in another direction."

Dale looked up, startled, unsure what Rick meant. He was met with Rick's usual grin. A frisson of disappointment shuddered through him, but he rallied.

"Just exactly what is it you've got planned for us, boss?" 

Rick went into his farm boy mode, "Seein' as how you got that there dumpster delivered yesterday, I thought we'd fill er up." He waited for Dale's reaction. Dale snorted and shrugged. "Seriously, I thought we could take care of all the stuff you want to get rid of today. Fill up the dumpster, haul the good stuff to Goodwill like you wanted. Does that sound like a plan?"

"It's a plan, man." Dale quipped. "Let's go to it. That is, if you can tear yourself away from that coffee cup."

"I'll manage." Rick replied sarcastically, taking a last sip. 

He stood and they both headed out the door. Rick watched the mesmerizing flex of Dale's ass as he walked out ahead of him. He took a deep breath and silently blew it out. He'd almost blown it. When Dale sat down at the table with him, he'd had such a forlorn look on his face. It was too cute. Rick had had the sudden urge to round the table, pick him up and carry him off somewhere to love that look off his face. To replace it with passion and need. To make Dale beg for release. With that fantasy running in his head, filling his eyes, Dale had looked up, falling straight into the fire. Rick saw his eyes widen, his pupils dilate, the rhythm of his breath increase. 

He'd seen that reaction before. At Stud's, when he picked up a guy for a quick fuck in the back. Only this was Dale, Dale who made his heart flutter and his stomach quiver. Dale, whom he wanted to make love to, not fuck and walk away. Dale, who changed everything. Dale, who scared the shit out of him. Dale. The man who represented heaven and could plunge him into hell.

Rick wasn't ready to face these new and unfamiliar emotions, and so he'd backed off. He'd known at that moment that Dale reciprocated his interest, at least in a physical way, but what about the rest? What about love? Rick shook his head. It was too soon, too much, he had to think about it. So lost in thought was he, that he didn't see Dale stop, and plowed right into him. 

Dale stumbled and caught himself, turning, "Damn, buddy, anybody home?"

Rick had to laugh at the half annoyed expression on Dale's face. "Yeah, city boy, sorry, I was thinking."

"Whoa," Dale quipped, "that had to hurt."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on boy, you got too much sass in you. Let's work some of it off."

They decided to load the truck first and drop off the boxes at Goodwill. That accomplished, they headed home and began to fill the dumpster. They cleared the garage and barn of old fencing, paint cans, shingles, rotted lumber and items too numerous to mention. There was even an old refrigerator and a couple of lawn mowers that were long past their prime and irreparable.

At the end of the day, they again stood in the kitchen, slugging down a cold beer. 

Dale wiped the sweat from his brow, "I thought this was going to be easier. It wasn't easier." he dead-panned.

"Looking forward to getting back to those trees tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah." Dale agreed sarcastically.

"Hey man, three more days should see the deed done. Tell you what," Rick offered, "the day after we finish, we'll celebrate. Drag that grill out that's in the garage. You fire it up, I'll bring the steaks and we'll have a barbeque. When it gets dark, we'll light up the brush pile and have an old fashioned marshmallow roast. How's that sound?" 

Dale smiled, enchanted by Rick's boyish enthusiasm, "It sound good, man, sounds good."

Rick headed out the back door, Dale following behind, "Hope you're a good cook." He turned and winked, "I'm particular about my meat." 

Dale raised an eyebrow as a chuckling Rick climbed into his truck. Now just what was that supposed to mean? * * *

Three days later, just as Rick predicted, the final tree came down. The next day was spent making a wood pile for Dale's use, and helping Rick's friend, Craig, load and haul away load after load of the excess. They finished the day early and Rick invited Dale to join him in town at Smiley's, for a few beers.

Dale accepted and spent a semi-pleasant evening being introduced to Rick's friends and acquaintances. He couldn't help but notice Rick's popularity. Several women were particularly insistent about staying close to him. He danced with some of them. Dale sat in their booth, conversing and laughing, all the while hiding his melancholy and jealousy 

Their time was over. The job was done and there was no reason for Rick to spend his days with him. All their time together and Rick had not once made a move. Beyond that look they'd exchanged in the kitchen, beyond their usual banter, there had been nothing. Dale was sure he'd seen interest in Rick's eyes. But here, now, in this bar, it was apparent that Rick was into women. Dale felt he must have been mistaken, miserably mistaken.

Any enjoyment he had derived from the evening, fell flat. When Rick returned from his latest whirl on the dance floor, Dale tendered his excuses and made his way to the door. He was stopped by a hand on his arm.

Rick halted him, "We're still on for tomorrow, the barbeque, right?"

Dale gazed at him, Rick seemed almost anxious for his answer. He smiled, "Yeah, we're still on."

"Good." Rick replied with satisfaction and surprised Dale by accompanying him out the door.

"Uh Rick?" he quipped, "You don't have to walk me to my car, man."

"Smart ass, I'm heading home. I'm going to bed so I can dream about a big, juicy piece of meat."

Once again Dale gave Rick a startled look. He shivered at the fire he saw blazing in his eyes. 

Rick's eyes gentled, he reached out running two fingers slowly over the curve of Dale's cheek, while his thumb rubbed lightly across Dale's bottom lip, "Don't worry about it, babe. We'll sort it out tomorrow."

Without another word, he crossed the lot to his truck, jumped in and took off. Dale watched him leave, his head whirling, his cheek and lip tingling. Babe? Rick called me babe, he thought, oh God, I think I'm in trouble. He had no way of knowing that his sentiments had been echoed, several days earlier, by the man who'd invaded his life, his dreams, his fantasies, and his heart. 

Dale climbed into his car and drove slowly home. His emotions were in turmoil. Anticipation, trepidation, excitement, fear, all warred inside his confused psyche. He wanted Rick, was sure he was falling in love with him, but he was frightened. Did Rick want anything beyond a fuck? A night? Would they begin a relationship, only to have it end? Would this be Tony all over again?

He bit his lip until the pain made him wince, admonishing himself to stop. What ever Rick wanted, he knew he wasn't going to pass the opportunity by. He was a grown man, with 30 years of living under his belt. It was time he got on with his life. He just hoped he'd be able to survive the consequences.