Bird Shooting

After what turned into a brutal Winter, all the snow and ice finally melted and some daring early flowers came up. Dad, shirtless, stood in the door in his jeans and boots, his nipples getting hard, looked out and shook his head.

"Dumb ass Winter, never trust it, never. Look, today, looks great, tomorrow we could be up to our cocks in more snow." I brought my coffee and stood beside him, we seemed to be dressed alike, Levis and boots, nothing else. He put his arm around me. "If you had told me six months ago I'd have my own son, a can full of money and still be happy being Sherriff...I don't know."

"Told you it would all work out but that first day or two, you were fucked up, confused and suddenly in the firing line to get a kid you hadn't known until you looked at his former father's corpse. Lot can happen." Just to let him know, I popped a bicep as did he. We both laughed, I'd done it for him and just kept working on myself. Jeb, my best friend, was teaching me how to play football as well as baseball. When I arrived I knew how to play lots of games but none of them were likely to be locally played and certainly not for the kind of money I was used to seeing on the table.

I had hand flown Billy through several procedures from filing the missing persons form for my father, to transfering me for adoption, to giving him a hand in the trust funds Dad had left for me. We'd gone into the city twice, once so I could clear out whatever I wanted to take with me-not much, how useful were custom made suits and shirts going to be? And second for court hearings that had been lumped together for the convenience of everyone. The money, a couple of signatures, done. My deceased Dad, amended missing persons file to show the formerly missing was now deceased-papers were prepared by the county coroner...who didn't know he'd done it. Why bother him with small shit, plus there were too many loose things that might need explaining. Finally, there was the adoption. We had a good guy as a judge, one who was happy to see a man get a son. One thing only I knew about.

"According to these papers, the adoptee is also requesting a name change? Is that correct?" We were in chambers so I could respond easily.

"Sir, that is correct, I'd like to take my new Dad's name, be William Harold Constant Jr....if that's possible your honor, " Billy almost fell on me and his honor could see this was a surprise.

"Sherriff, is that acceptable to you, that this fine man be given your name?"

"Fuck yeah......oh, shit;....I'm....."

His honor laughed and asked that certain verbage be stricken from the record. He started again. "Sherriff Constant, is it acceptable to you for this great guy be allowed to take your name appended by a Junior? Try yes or no, Sir."

"Yes Sir, he sure can. He's a man I'm proud to call my son and if that's what he wants to be called well, I...." His honor interposed.

"Let the record show that Sherriff Constant answered in the affirmative. And, off the record, Sir, I wish I'd seen him first. You have got yourself one triple A, 24 karat, helluva a son." He stood up, as did we, for the formal handshake and the informal hug. "I may want to come bird shooting some day, always like that part of the country....."

"Sir, you just call us and you got yerself a bunk, good chow, great coffee and all the talk you want 'n don't plan on stayin' just a day or two. We'll get a mess of folks and go out and shoot every fucking thing that flies and tastes good." I looked at his honor, smiled, shrugged my shoulders and put an arm around Billy.

"Oh, off the record....Son is this right?"

"Sir, it is. It's my gift to my father on our first day as family and, now that I think of it, would Your Honor be my Godfather?"

He handed Billy an envelope while he shook my hand again. I knew what was coming and, I expect, so did the judge as he said quickly, "Here on, off the record."

"Holy motherfucking shit. Is this real? Son? Your Honor? Wow, I fuckin' never seen anything like this. You little cocksucker...ya don't have to do it....I'd love ya broke."

"More fun to love me rich, which you now are. I kept most of it but for my Dad, the man I love, a little walking around money can't hurt. Your Honor agree?"

My new Godfather was smiling, he probably never saw much real happiness and when money was an isssue in his court, it was because people were fighting over it. "Sherriff, I think I speak for my God son, go out and buy yourself something you've always fucking wanted." I just smiled my agreement.

In his new position as my Godfather, he asked us to lunch at a private club to which he belonged. Fine but before we left, I took the check from Billy, handed it to the judge and asked if there was some way it could be turned into cash before we left.

"That's an awfully lot of cash, why not just take it home?"

"Well, sir, just as you said, it's a large amount and out there, that would have the whole county more curious and more intrusive than either of us wants. Hard to understand here but...if you make a deposit in the local bank that's more than your salary, Social Security or birthday money, it gets talked about. I think Dad and I can find a place for this that's safe and, he's the Sherriff, we can also defend it. Hope you understand."

"I do and, once again, Sir, you've got yourself a pistol of a son, bright and if he doesn't love you, well....." He took the check made a call, handed the check to an officer and we were off to lunch. Billy had drifted...in several ways.

"Your honor, I'm pleased by your invitation but my Dad..isn't used to the sort of private gentleman's club I believe you're discussing so if there's something more modest...he'd be a lot more comfortable and, candidly, I've done a lot to make him uncomfortable today.

He laughed said he understood, might be good for all of us to take off our coats and relax. He knew a beer and steak place...I immediately agreed.

"Sherriff, how would a cold beer and a hot steak sound? I've got a taste for that myself."

"Finest kind, frankly, I could use something wet right now." With that we all gathered our coats, left his chambers and headed the couple of blocks to the bar and grill which, I could see, made Billy happy. I gave the judge a thumbs up and he smiled back.

My new Godfather and I had a good lunch-I'd forgotten the going price for things in the city, six bucks for a stein of beer? Jeez. Billy kept looking at me, grinning, looking some place else then back at me. The Judge said, "I think you've made him one happy man, good to see that. But...anything goes wrong, call your Godfather, okay?"

On the road home Billy was tracking but just. I wondered if I should drive avoiding the fact that I was too young, didn't have a license and had been drinking. I'd quickly learned, as every small town kid does, to drive anything that had an engine. Nobody thought much about it but I decided to take no chances. One thing, I suggested that we stop, get drained and let me change out of my city clothes.

The money, clever of the Judge, was in three sealed court envelopes. Could have been anything from summonses to warrants to court business of little or no interest to anyone. Money would not have been the first or fiftieth choice. Just to make sure it was safe, Billy wound his gun belt, with gun, around it and put it in a box specifically marked for County Business.

Back in my country clothes I felt better, looked more like I belonged to Dad and, with addition of a cap, partly ragged around the brim, we looked like a father and son on their way back from a trip to the big city.

"No regrets? The inks not quite dry....you can keep the money just unload me."

He skidded onto the siding just missing being clipped by a UPS double haul trailer; Doubtless the driver expressed himself in a fulfilling way. Billy looked at me. "Son, I never woulda kept you after that first night or two iffen I din't want you. Yer the son for me, strong, a good shot, fuck, I could make you my deputy, might think on doing that, father and son, Sherriff and Deputy..."

"You'd break Sam's heart. He loves that uniform shirt, those badges, running the siren, chasing speeders...besides, his son is my best friend. Break my heart just to listen to Jeb be sorry about his father. 'Sides, I may be too young, not that reality seems to matter much. I sometimes wonder if people at home even bother with driver's licenses. Every kid I know, at least those over eleven or twelve, zip all over, no one seems to give a damn."

"Yeah, but you got all sorts a extras no deputy comes with, look at it this way, you already killed yer first man an while I understand, that took balls, Son, that took real man killer balls, bout the size of coconuts, bigger than mine...."

"Shaved like yours, too...."

He grinned. "Yeah, they sure are an....I don't know another deputy in fifty counties who can fuck and suck like you. You taught me how an now, well, I like to think you kinda enjoy playin' pussy for your old man."

"I do, even when he's not horny. Sleeping with you is one of the best things and I do not mean the sex, though that's pretty good, but just having my Dad next to me, making me feel protected, plus, when it's cold, you're nice and furry, just the thing for cuddling......" I looked out the window at the paucity of things Interstates have to offer. "I guess that's one thing of yours I'm not gonna get, hair on my chest.:"

"Fuck, Son, mine didn't get good 'n growed in til I was past thirty...didn't even sprout for, I don't remember but whether or not, you're my son."

"I just like it, when I wake up and you're furry chest...of course nothing makes you my Dad more than the love you give me, few men get that from their fathers."

"Were you and him close?"

"Not like we are, he always had to be teaching me things..probably thought I could go into the business once he was offed..he knew it would happen, cost of doing business. I know things no one should know, have done things no one should ever do-just for the record, he wasn't the first man I shot...or the fifth.. but...that's what you got. Going to be hard going to school without a gun stuck in my pants somewhere."

"Christ....school. You haven't gone until now but you've got a father and live in town, I gotta send you to school. Uh, how old are you?"

"Uhm, not real sure. Dad changed things a lot to accommodate his business and how I fit in it. But I got an idea, Jeb and I are getting to be best buddies, why not just slip me in with him? How old is he?"

"Maybe fourteen, fifteen....I know he'll be a sophomore...so...we make you a sophomore. I guess we both know they ain't much they can teach you and a shit can full of stuff you could teach them....I'll talk to Sam and we'll get it worked out. He's on the school board so there won't be no trouble."

Jeb and I were already getting a bit more than close. Until I came along he was the town stud, at least for his age group but now I was there and was the obvious choice as leader although of what, no clue. I found some of the guys were down right afraid of me, no other admitted murderer went to high school and there were other things about me. Thanks to Jeb, we eventually formed a sort of guys group which hung out various places but mainly an abandoned barn. This was where I learned to tackle and throw and catch and run. Jeb was the quarterback and he and I just seamlessly worked together, the other guys saw it, saw that I was a good team player, once I understood more fully the game and the rules. But most important, I was  true to the school. I wanted to win for it, not me. In the country, that counted for a lot and, murderer or not, it made converts out of most of the guys.

Something I hadn't planned on was a certain young male competitiveness in all sorts of things. None of it was educational but all of it mattered to them. In the barn, lounging around, all sorts of personal wagers were made. I was a bit taken aback when it got to whose cock was bigger/longer/wider than anyone else's. I needed to remember that they'd been around each other, naked, at school, for several years so what surprised me didn't even bother them, it was just another conversation. Until the challenge came to me. What I knew, based on what I'd seen and what I knew of myself, was that I was going to have the stud cock.Oh, well, on the day it was put up to me to show 'em, and by implication win your spurs with the rest of the guys, I pulled out my shirt, unbuttoned my pants and let them drop. Unlike them, I wore a jock so that was pushed down and the shock took over. Someone whistled, someone else said, "Jesus" and in summation, "Now there's a set of balls and a cock that will win for the team." Did I understand this? No, but once the moment was passed, I was the stud of the group, would be the stud of the team...if only I could learn to play the damn game.

I told Billy that night and he bent double laughing....said he could remember when he and Sam and a bunch of the guys did exactly the same thing. He was proud of me, I was the second in our family to hold the same title, "Stud". To celebrate, we broke out the beer, had a beef dinner followed by a good fucking and sucking all around. Curled up next to him I asked him if...he was proud of me? He knew it was a serious question. "Son, there are all sorts a pride. One is bein' proud of yer kid cuz he won something and made you look good but the proud of you I am is that you love bein' my son, fuck all the rest of it. You don't see it too often, but there are days when I see your tail goin' down the street and I'm so fuckin' proud. You made this your home, me your Dad so I feel I'm your Dad and that's a proud as a man can get. We rolled up in the bed and I ran my hand from his crotch to his chest.....:"Maybe next summer I'll have to shear that and make it into a winter sweater...." He laughed, kissed me and we both drifted off to sleep.

It was an unusual Christmas. What the two of us wanted, we could easily afford, the problem was the town and their ever-lasting curiosity about everyone else's business; No subject was too private, too intimate, too personal not to be the focal point of discussion. It sounds almost predatory but Dad and I sat down one evening and picked out gifts for each other that we could publicly display without causing too much conversation. That was for public consumption. Privately I called my Godfather and made arrangements for those in the county and community to receive gifts of money or clothing or food, whatever was most desperately needed. We got Sam, Jeb and another father and son to help us deliver it all and this did not get talked about as those who had done nothing for others were first embarrassed then annoyed and those who had used it as an example of what good people we all were. Even that murderer who was now the Sherriff's son. Forever more, there would be questions about that and no satisfactory answer would ever be found; Why? And give up all the gossip that surrounded me. And, to pile on that, it would seem some of the young men who'd been present when I shucked off my jock, were so impressed that they'd gone home and told their older brothers or their father and....word got around quickly. There was once an airline ad that said, "If you got it flaunt it" and with Dad's permission I made no effort to hide what was hidden in my Levi's; He even went so far as to buy both of us push up jocks that only added to the discussion. Anyway, that was Christmas.

New Years consisted of us staying home and getting slightly swacked followed by an infinity of football games the next day. It's there and then that I learned that a warm beer, first thing, may not be curative but it is restorative. The second one is even better; we had those in bed while we fucked each other then took a nap. Later we indulged in some father/son jerking off, nothing serious just  a pleasure to improve a truly bad game. And suddenly it was time for school

My first day Dad had to go with me as the 'parent' to sign papers of some sort, meet the principal, whom he well knew, and get me scooted off to join Jeb in class which was already in session. My appearance at the door probably was to be expected, just not by the teacher. There was a roar of welcome from the guys who constantly referred to me as stud and my cock as the school mascot...Order was difficult to maintain.

Schools in small districts, and you could hardly get smaller than ours, had students from not only our county but some from surrounding counties as well. I was to find out that the way students were assigned to "County High" as it was called depended on how far from it you lived. Some sad guys had to cover forty miles each way each day. That, too, was solved in that town families took in one or two of the commuters for the week. In so far as the guys were concerned, this was great. We were coming up on baseball season and this gave everyone extra time to work out and...teach me the game. It was felt that anyone possessed of my set of low hangers and a substantial cock must be a whizz at any sport. That this was untrue I was afraid they might discover but Jeb and his cousin Josh spent a lot of time drilling me on the rules, where everybody stood, the basics of the game. Then, and it was perfect set up, we'd run the bases or what we set up as bases. I dreaded the first day.

Then there were the showers after gym class. Our coach was a nice young man who belonged in a country school. Knew his stuff, affable and waaaay too innocent for even the suburbs. It was to the point that we had to protect him from whatever disaster he was about to walk into. He felt that to bond with his guys, there were only about eighteen of us, he'd shower with us. The first semester, and he'd arrived halfway through it, that worked out well enough but then I arrived and whatever sway he'd held in the genital department was gifted to me. I even had more hair on my chest than he did. At one point, in the barn, I made a point of saying that he was a good guy, he did know his stuff and what we should do was make him feel good about himself. He wanted the best for us, was trying and we knew we were strong plus could and would kill all the teams in our league so...we would include him by, occasionally, asking him to the barn and working with us on baseball. I cannot say this was a universally popular subject but the stud had 'suggested' it and the motion carried without bothering to have a vote. I came to call it 'Dick Diplomacy'. Also my Dad was the Sherriff and, just to ice the cake, I was a murderer-neither charged nor convicted of course but, if someone bothered to go look, there might be some minor bits and pieces as testimony to my heinous crime. As we went on our team having me, the murderer, on the squad caused conniption fits amongst not only our opponents but the parents of same.

Many complaints were filed, some with my father which caused him to bend double with laughter, some with the school board, which they threw out not to mention coaches from other schools complaining directly to our coach-Buzz by nick name. By then he knew me, knew what we were doing and simply said he didn't select the students, they were presented to him and it was his job to coach whomever showed up. Full Stop.

For no reason other than I needed some adult company other than Dad, I made a point of being around Buzz, showering when he did, trying to make myself helpful. No brown nosing, just one of his team players who had a moment and spent it on him. I was the one who got him asked to the barn-no other teacher was-and while we drew some lines about his hanging out with us, no one minded if he just sat back, laughed when something was dumb or funny and made interesting comments when we were working on our baseball game.

School was a snap. Not surprisingly I got straight A's, no one complained about my murderous past and many could see why the Sherriff had adopted me. The most resistant were the parents of the guys I hung out with. No one said a word against me but it was beyond obvious that they felt I'd lead their boys into some sort of trouble, just what wasn't articulated but...something. Of course this had the opposite effect on their sons who became my defenders, wanted me to come to supper, have an over night, be welcome in their homes if I dropped by and they weren't there; I made a Dick Decision to never drop by unless I went in accompanied by their son. If I were to describe my welcome, 'grudgingly' would be the adverb I'd select. 

Spring!! Or some semblance of it. Everyone knows that playing baseball in light snow in mid March is just what happens and you pay no attention to it. Buzz, knowing how desperately I was trying to learn baseball, asked if I'd like to help lay out the first set of chalk lines for the diamond. Of course, met him in a recently mowed field after school which didn't look like a baseball diamond, it looked like recently mowed field. "Dammit, they were supposed to plow the base lines, pitchers mound...the whole shootin' match and what do you see?"

It seemed axiomatic but he'd asked. "A plowed field." We both just stood waiting for some idea, divine intervention or the crew that was to have done this to return and apologize for taking a longer lunch break than planned. We both knew none of that would happen so we stumbled up to the top of the rickety collection of planks and steel rods that acted as our "grand stand" and sat on the top plank, first making sure it wouldn't collapse. He had his head in his hands, was the picture of a man frustrated by things over which he had control. I knew how hard he tried to be the best, to do  the best and all I could think to do was put a friendly arm around his shoulders and suggest that maybe we'd get lucky, it would snow on the day of the game and no one would notice. He almost laughed. And then put his head on my shoulder.

"You're a nice guy, Bill, a helluva nice guy, I just get fucking tired of hearing all the gossip about you..."

"I'm glad I provide the good citizens with some diversion, I live to serve and please." This last came out in a manner that could only be called dripping with cynicism. He laughed. "Look, you're my coach, a man I respect for lots of reasons but since you brought it up, just what are you hearing? I know a story like this has all the makings of a yarn that goes on and on further from the facts each time it's retold. So.....ask me what you'd like to know, I'll tell you at least I'll tell you what I know...and I've heard some stories about me that, I don't know, how they could've got started."

"Bill, I couldn't some of it gets.....pretty personal."

"All gossip is personal and the weirder and lewder it gets the more likely it is to be real personal. So shoot. What's on your mind?"

"Lets get off this thing, I don't trust it to hold the two of us...much less visitors or guests." We settled on a clump of fresh mown grass, I was stretched out lengthwise and he was sitting, one leg out, the other under him. "Did you really shoot your father or was it was an accident, I've heard it both ways."

"It was intentional, an execution but...my Dad was a paid hit man and he'd fucked up a job so the guys who ordered it wanted some revenge, he knew it, I knew it and if they'd caught up with him....lets just say smashed knuckles would have seemed a kindness. Did he know I was going to do it that day? Don't know. I sometimes think he may have planned on a one car accident taking out both of us but...he really did love me."

Buzz looked a bit stunned but I'd told him the truth. "Uh, huh. Well. Uhm ...." He didn't have his mind away from a dead dad and onto whatever the next question might be. "Uh, someone said you always carry a gun, that true?"

"Stand up, best way to show you is for you to find out for yourself. " I spread my legs, put out my arms and waited for him to start a pat frisk. "Go on, be thorough, you can't embarrass me, go into the groin, a cop would so...have at it." He asked that I take off my boots which I did then he began. It was methodical, up one leg down the other, carefully went over my ass, ran a hand toward my crotch, put his arms around me, searched my chest and, he faltered, my package, down my arms and then he was out of places to search. "Good going, I've had cops take twice as long and accomplish far less." We stood there, side by side looking at the green, green field and both tried to imagine it with a baseball diamond, runners at first and third.

He felt the tip of barrel on the back of his skull."Don't even twitch, I took the safety off and, yeah, it's a real gun, a Beretta that you didn't find so now....here's what I mean by a blow job.."and swung the gun around and stuck part of the barrel in his mouth. Tears shot from his eyes, he was close to shaking with fear but he'd asked a question and I'd answered it. Gently, I took away the gun, turned him to me, held him, whispered that it was alright, he'd always have protection.....me. He slumped in my arm, the other was involved with my gun. "Buzz, now it's my turn to ask something.....Do you want me?:"

Slowly and with tears still draining he shook his head up and down. "Yeah, that's what Jeb and I figured....don't worry it's just Jeb and me, he's my best buddy and occasional partner in sex, we'll add you to the very exclusive list. Oh, and by the way, I paid the guys not to plow the field, they'll be along shortly to get it done but for now, we're going to your place for a beer and so you can relax. Sorry, Buzz, but you had to know and that was one way of getting a lot of truths out. " I kissed him softly on his cheek as we headed for his pickup.

Still  shaken, I had to open the beers for him and, for a moment, thought I'd have to introduce the can to his mouth. Maybe I should have. Shaky hands and carbonated beverages do not go well together; half of the can was on him, the table, the floor. "Okay, strip. I'll find something for you to put on and, by the way, grab a towel at the sink and wipe your self down, you'll be sticky and smell like a very poor brewery." Did just what he was told, a good sign.

It was sad going through his bungalow. One big room, a couch, a side table, a large television, an oval rag rug on the floor. His bedroom, as tidy as I'd expected had a bed and a night stand. Period. The one closet contained a few shirts, slacks, teaching clothes, one pair of 'good' shoes, two ties, all the rest was sports wear which was fine, I thought he'd look good in coaching apparel so got a set. Back in the kitchen he was dry but shivering. "Here, put these on, warm up." As I had at Billy's I turned on the oven and let it warm the room.

"Bill, I gotta make a confession then....pay the price." I stopped and looked at him. What in the fucking hell could he have to confess? I just looked at him. Standing there in a jock, a shirt that said 'coach' on it, holding some long pants, socks, shoes and a jacket, he looked like what I wanted him to look like; A healthy young man, needed some tan, wholesome as hell, a prototypical coach. His head was hanging down which suggested to me, this was serious.

"Bill, I don't know how to coach football. Never did, I got here mid term and football season was over..so..." I almost collapsed with relief. We'd solve that one, easy, but, just now, there was a lesson to be taught. (Just like Dad One, I, too, taught lessons.)

"You mentioned something about a gun...what gun?" He looked stunned.

"The one you had in your hand, stuck it in my mouth, that gun, said it was a Beretta, something like that."

"Buzz, I don't have a gun, remember, you pat frisked me, no gun but....we'll give it one more shot just to satisfy you." I took off my boots, socks, jock, folded my Levi's, put them on a chair, shirt hung on the back, my T shirt lay on top of the pants. "Okay, strip search. Come over here and look for it, even do a cavity search if you want." I stood as I had before, legs spread, arms out...waiting for him to run his hands over my naked flesh.

Somewhat reluctantly he did. He hesitated at the entrance to my ass but I told him, a cavity search meant inside every cavity,  mouth, tail....nose. But there was nothing. I sat back down, not bothering to get dressed while he stood there, only the jock and his socks on. It was time to finish the lesson.

"Give or take a bit here and there, I want you to put on my clothes and I'll put on yours. He didn't seem to comprehend until I repeated myself; He then approached the chair with my things as if it were plutonium. I sat there, playing with my dick, waiting for the look I knew was coming. He got the socks and my jock on then pulled up my pants and stopped cold. His look was confusion. :"Something cold just hit my balls."

"Take them off and see what it was." Knowing full well it was the gun.

As he lowered my Levi's the gun fell on the floor to his astonishment. He could only strangle out, "How...?"

"Kind of like a magicians trick, you're fooled with one hand while the other places things where you don't notice. Sit down and pick up my pants and I'll show you." He did. "Okay, first, notice that the gun is on a piece of dental floss, the waxed kind, very hard to notice and, remember, you weren't expecting me to be carrying now were you." He shook his head as if he were ashamed, a student put one over on a teacher. "Hold the pants up by the waste, now look down. See how it just hangs there, put the gun in by my nuts as far as it will go, while you're frisking me, front and back, you're never unless you're a real pro going to know to seperate my nuts from my cock. It's not a large gun so by putting it in just so, you won't feel it. Pat/Frisk done, I'm clean. Next up as I'm processed whoever isn't so sure. Has me stripped searched...you saw me turn my back to you to pile my things on that chair; Didn't need to turn my back, could've done it right in front of you. When I slipped out of my britches, the gun, on the string, came with it, folded neatly and under my shirt. You can strip search me, stick a flashlight up my crotch and my ass and....no gun."

"Do you usually, uh, carry?"

Depends, around here, no but...and this is just between you, me and Jeb, I'm a fully authorized Deputy Sherriff. Buzz, I'm going to tell you something you probably suspect, maybe even know....I'm not fourteen. Truth is, no one is really sure how old I am. Billy and I have talked about it, I've told him some of my story but...my first Dad was cagey about how old everyone, including himself. Best guess....I'm probably eighteen, maybe low nineteens but for now I'm going on fifteen just like all the other guys. Sure, I look real mature, and I am, but for here no one is going to snoop around and if they do, I'll handle it. You okay with that? Gonna make it a bit easier on your mind when we fuck knowing I'm no kid and you're a long way from my first rodeo. Dad taught me how to fuck and a lot of other things when I was actually young. He cherried me himself, proud day for me though that may be hard to understand. Speaking of which, who took yours? I'm guessing it was in college...."

There was silence, his head was in his hands again, he sat there, nude, my pants down around his ankles. He exhaled. looked up at me and slowly it came out. As with many men on the fence about their sexuality, he'd formed a close, very close friendship with another guy who was very sure about what he wanted and who he was. They spent increasingly more time together, spent the night in the same bed and, finally, this friend took his cock in his mouth and Buzz figured out what he was. The night did not end there for step two, the guy rolled him over, started a slow fuck which got out of hand and Buzz was effectively raped. It was almost dark in the room when I moved to his side, held him, kissed him, made him understand that the guy who did this was a louse but he'd done nothing wrong save get a brutal introduction to what would be his sexual preference for the rest of his life. I wanted him to understand that from here on, he'd have fine men who would respect him, care for and about him and in time he'd find the pleasure and joy of both fucking and being fucked. One thing, and I really did not want to ask but needed to know...After that, when was the next time?

He'd become a slut, anyone who wanted him, just take a number and he was on his back, his knees, all fours, impaling himself, didn't matter, he was so fallen in his eyes, his only usefulness was to be a whore for men. Mercifully he graduated at the end of the semester and that's when he'd come to town. That's why the spartan quarters, he was still beating himself for something he'd not done although, privately, I didn't have to worry about whether he'd need to be opened, he had taken care of that almost too well.

I made the excuse of needing the bathroom and, once out of hearing, called Dad and asked if he would scoot over to Sam's send Jeb to our house and then bunk in other there. There was a note of "Huh?" in the air which I countered with the old fashioned reason, "I'll tell you later" and clicked off. Back to Buzz who was in his own form of coma. I needed to buy a little time for everyone to switch around so just sitting by him, rubbing his back, speaking quietly about not much was the best I could do. There was no point in trying to "make it all right", he knew what he'd done and it would take some little while to get him to go beyond that. What he needed was a fine young man who would respect him, love him, be not only a friend but a buddy. Someone younger but someone who was....well versed in sex and would enjoy sharing what he knew with another nice guy. This assumed, with reason, that slut he may have been, but that probably didn't take him much beyond the basics of fuck and suck.

Before I knew the tangled tale that Buzz spewed out, I'd already moved Jeb into Dad's bed. Task number two was to, eventually, get him out of the dump he called home and into someplace that would be comfortable and not remind him of one off prison.

He was calming which meant it was time to do a few things to get him more relaxed, more prepared for what I hoped would happened. As we both were naked, it was easy for me to rub his chest, idly play with his nipples and be pleased to note that there was some reaction. Given that, I took his ball sac in my hand, rolled them gently around, leaned over, licked them and kissed them. He put his hand on top of my head and asked if...maybe..I'd been so good....could he....."Buzz you owe me nothing and while I think if would feel great, and another time it will but for now, let me enjoy you....okay?" He put his head on top of mine, stroked my chest while I slid his meat into my mouth and started a slow, warm sucking....

When I was done, and before we went to my home, I got him in the shower, really small for the two of us but warm and, facing each other, we ran our hands over one another for the pleasure of feeling a man with no object other than being together.  We were there until the hot water ran out and then it was time for him to meet his future.

As we dressed, he asked if I was going to put my gun back in my pants which struck me as an odd question so I thought up an odd but interesting question.

"Would you like me to fix a gun in your pants? Happy to do it, and now that you know how....Tell you what, slip into your jock and your jeans but don't button them." Took directions like a champ. I unhooked the Beretta from it's small hook on the back seam of a belt loop, had him lean forward, attached it the same, leaning him back and fully opening his fly, I slid the gun in first with the barrel in the side of his jock and then as I wore it, pressed between my pants leg and my nuts. His equipment was a bit smaller than mine and his legs, while very muscular, lacked the girth of mine so I improvised using the strap of the jock and the handle of the gun to get it snuggly fitted in. Once he was dressed, his shirt tucked in, you couldn't tell there was anything there that wasn't growing on him. Then it was off to my home. 

"Gee, this is real nice, you and your Dad sure have great taste." I almost gagged as I would have thrown out virtually every leather covered thing in it, took down the crap he'd hung leaving only the stuffed head and started over but I did the correct thing and thanked him. Compared to the hovel he lived in, this was very nice and whatever I thought of the decor, it was emminently comfortable and livable for two guys. To be the in-place welcoming committee, I got out a couple of cold ones and, like Dad, popped the caps with two fingers, handed one to him and took a long swig myself. Buzz seemed...,.puzzled. "Your Dad lets you drink?" Once again I'd run head on to his sense of what young men did and what I'd just done. There was not a shred of doubt in my mind that, when he was young, he'd clipped a can or a bottle or took a pull from a bottle of something stronger  but that was on the sly. What I'd done was march in, opened the door took out liquor, opened it, handed him one and took a drink myself. All out in the open, nothing sneaky or hidden. That still left his question to be answered and, once again, we were going to have to take a trip down my memory lane to fill in a few more blanks.

"Buzz, yeah, he does. Moreover, I can walk into the liquor store out on County Line road and buy what I want, they know I'm the Sherriff's kid, that I'm buying it for him and whomever he chooses to share it with, not buying cases of 24 for me and my guys so, yeah, they sell it, I buy it and we drink it. Together. Father and son. Sometimes we even get smashed and have to sleep it off...one day I'll teach you something about the day after the night before, it's one lesson anyone, and I do mean anyone, who drinks needs to know. Now, get comfortable, have your suds and so will I." This left out a whole lot of what else we did around the house with each other but for now, my purpose was to get him slightly calmed-If I'd had a horse tranquilizer needle, I would have slipped it in his ass.

Apparently he had been a beer drinker somewhere as when I was still at the sipping stage, he'd moved on to full chug and needed a refill. No problem. Snagging two, one for Buzz and one to leave in the bedroom for Jeb-he never noticed-we wandered on with him increasingly relaxed and open about his past life. In many ways, what he told me sorrowed me for although many would argue, strongly, that mine had all the trappings of being "unnatural" his swung so far the other way....ultra religious home-I'd almost expected that-in which everything was a sin, no gradiation, just flat out sin. Some guys can gloss over an unhappy childhood by finding what they'd learned from their situation, Buzz couldn't even do that; It was just grim. In my calculating mind I knew that what was behind door number one, as well as myself, were going to change things but, just then, as I handed him number three, we were going on the glide path much as I'd figured it would be.

Liquor hit him hard and sooner than he had realized; Many people are like that, think they've got a wooden leg and they may but the leg was from a Ken Doll. Buzz was nicely drunk, not too far gone for what was next up, but relaxed, able to accept what I knew was next up. This was for his benefit and well being, not just for tonight, but for a long time to come. 

Took no effort to get him to his feet, he was quite stable, no slurred speech, just a general sense of well being. I walked him to the bedroom door, took him in and there sat Jeb, stark naked, waiting for him. I held Buzz in my arms and explained that this was his future, a fine young man who already loved him, would take the time to find the fit but a partner that would stand beside him with no one guessing or even wondering about their relationship; Just another one of the players on the teams he coached. Jeb rose from the bed, came to us, put his arms around the man, his head on his shoulder then said, "I've wanted you from the moment I saw you. You're a good man, you'll be my good man, I'll be  a good man for you in the ways that you need me. You have Bill to protect you and I'm the person you knew was out there, someone who would give himself to you wholly, without question and find enjoyment in our mutual pleasure. Buzz, I need to be fucked and fucked right now."

It was almost no trouble removing his clothes, getting him up on the bed and into Jebs strong but desiring arms. I smiled as I left the room knowing in the morning I would find two very changed men. At fourteen was Jeb a man? Buzz would find out that, yep, he certainly was.

At loose ends I could scoot over to Sam's and sleep in Jeb's bed or, if they were together, cuddle in with Billy and Sam. They were both proud of Jeb for giving himself to a man they knew he genuinely cared for. As for me? Well, I had one man, Dad, and apart from some minor sexual spade work, such as Buzz, I was content. Who wouldn't be? A big dicked man with balls, shaved, to go along who loved me, emotionally and sexually, and he had himself twenty years ago, big dicked, shaved balls and the Stud of the town. The continuum just went on.

I put the pickup in drive, headed for the barn and decided what I wanted was a quiet night given over to me. I'd made a hidey hole there, sleeping bag, crank light and radio, my favorite stroke oil....yes a quiet night while I felt the flow of sperm come out of me. It's a good feeling. Yes It Is.