Home From the Range

Carson looked his usual perfect. This could be annoying unless you knew him and realized that the last person who realized his perfection was...Carson himself. He stood in the room, the last of his luggage having been taken away and stowed for the trip to the airport and so it was just the two of us as it so often was. As he stood, his perfectly combed hair-no goo to keep it in place, his hair knew to stay in place and it did-rose and fell slightly at the front as if controlled by an indecisive tide. 

"I suppose we'd best go down, my parents like to be punctual"-a fact I knew-"and now with all the security mess, everything takes longer." 

That was a statement of fact save that Mr. Burling, Carson's Dad had recently been the Secretary of State and was now off on an official trip, offered to him by the President, to Argentina. Whatever annoyances might bother others, the Burllings were not in that group that stood in lines. Anywhere. I knew there was a "security detail" as I'd been quietly vetted before being allowing on the Burling estate and then into the house itself. I wondered if I'd be asked to have a chip put in my neck to ease my coming and going. I wasn't supposed to know it but Carey-as we called him-had a chip in him that instantly gave anyone with a reader his name, rank and serial number. He'd told me about getting it in an off hand way that suggested in-so-far as he was concerned, none of his rights to privacy had been violated. I only  had been told because it came up in conversation regarding the family dog; He and Carey had been chipped the same day at the same place. The only difference, Carey lacked a visible leash.

The rotunda looked what you thought an impressive place was supposed to look like, white marble, beautiful furniture and an enormous rug in the middle, under the chandelier, on which one might expect to see the Seal of The President of The United States. The double stair case which coiled down each side of the room was white marble covered in some sort of carpet to prevent slips and falls. Most people took one of the two elevators-in each wing-which were more convenient and faster. 

Mrs. Burling appeared, gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said they'd miss me, Carson would as well. Almost on cue she suggested I ride to the airport with them and I could come back with Mariano their chauffeur (I wondered if he was chipped.)

"Good then, it's all settled, Ace (an unfortunate nickname I hated) you'll come along" adding, with a pleasant smile, "May be some little while until you two can get together." Mr. Burling appeared and, maybe by telepathy, told me he was glad for Mariano to have company on the trip back, shook my hand, for no particular reason, and we all processed-I can think of no other word, out the front entrance-nothing so plebian as a door, then, one at a time, the four of us were assisted into the Cadillac limousine, doors were closed, Mariano started the engine-which made virtually no noise-and we made the grand exit from their home-a word that doesn't really match the way they lived. There were gilt and steel doors at the entrance and these swept open to allow the car to pass out and onto the street that would lead us to the expressway into town and the airport. 

Mrs. Burling held a strap that hung from the side of the car as well as all of us were checked-by Mariano-to make sure our seat belts were fastened as well as checking that the heads of Mr. and Mrs. Burling offered no direct shot through a window. If you asked me if the car had safety glass that went way beyond standard issue I'd have said yes though I didn't know that, just suspicioned it. 

The first few miles were very, very quiet apart from the thrum of the Northstar engine which was barely perceptible. Carey and I were in the jump seats facing backward while his parents sat on the wide, plush bench seat that formed the place where important people sat. Please, don't misunderstand me, I genuinely liked the Burlings, all three of them. Knocking around with Carey was fun in that for all his silence, he had a lively sense of humor and exploration. The estate, no idea how big it was, but so big that to walk to the neighbors, after climbing a steel fence made to look less threatening by the addition of spikes on the top of each spindle, took twenty minutes and that was if you did climb the fence and avoided being fucked by it or having your nut sack snagged and ripped from you. If you knew where to look, and Carey did, there was a ladder that could be used as a way over. Not that we went to the neighbors often or ever. 

Light conversation circling about the weather here versus that in Buenos Aires or B A as they called it. It was the Autumnal Equinox here which meant Argentina was going into Spring.  Mrs. Burling put her head back to rest while her husband, looked at the two of us, smiled, put his finger to his lips and leaned back himself. Carey and I took out a deck of cards and played a silent came of top card. The three hour drive seemed very, very long. I knew we were almost there as I heard Mariano speaking on his phone and, of course, I recognized the airport. 

We had almost stopped when a flotilla of airline people rushed out, opened doors, removed luggage-most of it had been sent ahead via FedEx-while the family tried their damndest to be gracious and seem appreciative of all the attention. A golf cart, that held six, rolled up and....it was time to leave. Mrs. Burling kissed me again, told me I was welcome to use the indoor pool whenever I liked, Mr. Burling gave me a real smile, shook my hand and suggested perhaps I could come to the Argentine. They turned away toward the cart leaving Carey and me to cobble together some sort of public good-bye. I could see behind his sun glasses there were a few tears so I quickly embraced him, clapped on the shoulder, could find nothing to say and so he scooted into the cart and they all rolled away, Mrs. Burling, again, seemed to wave at me and blow a kiss. The automatic doors popped open and then closed after the cart passed through them and that was that. 

"Hop up front, Ace. it's more comfortable than sitting backward and we've got a long way to go." I did all that. There was some sort of placard on the shelf in front of us that I'd not noticed but the cops who saw it almost saluted as we passed them doing security duty along the approaches to and from the terminals. "Jesus, I hope they don't give us an escort, I don't need it, you don't need it......maybe they'll notice that it's just the driver and, I don't know, one of the household servants." We neatly averted a UPS truck as we went up the on ramp and began the journey back to the estate. 

"Do you love him?" Mariano's question made me think someone had succeeded and had shot through the window. He glanced at me. "You know, Carey, do you love him?" 

I honestly didn't know what to say. Maybe I did and didn't quite recognize it but......I was pretty certain that his affections for me ran deeper than just being a good partner at doubles. I didn't know what to say so said nothing then looked out the window. 

"Ace, I'm quietly all over that place. I know you've never done anything that couldn't be on the front page but I've also caught Carey in tears when you left to visit some relative in God knows where Nebraska."

That was my Uncle's ranch and also the place I'd lost my virginity and quite a few other things. This was never mentioned to anyone and particularly Carey whose reaction I could not imagine. Nor wished to.

"You're a great guy, old enough to understand more than you want to admit and it's okay with me. When I was eighteen, sex was my life all day, all night and I didn't give a shit who it was with. Women mostly, but some guys. My first butt fuck came in a jail cell and the first guy I blew was my cousin. Big Italian families don't really notice what all the kids were doing and sleepovers became our times for whatever we'd looked up on the internet to do."

They thought that he might be on the make shot through me and I wasn't sure how to react. I liked Mariano, he was a fixture at the Burlings and, in quiet moments, played catch with Carey and me in the back yard or jogged with us. (He needed looser jogging shorts; his gun was too apparent. Even a snub nose shoved in his jock was a bas relief against the flimsy material. Carey and I had once laughed that we should stick something down there giving the impression that the bulge in our britches was part of where we lived and our jogging party. That he was packing today was a sure thing. 

We got snarled in a traffic mess and came to a full stop. The car was a magnet for gawkers and I was almost embarrassed. Why, no idea, just was. The idea that I was somebody was a laugh but.... I could see why some might think there was....something to my presence in the long, sleek car. (I thought of comment from "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy". Describing the shade of black, it's said it was so deep that light seemed to fall into it. Mariano took advantage of the pause, pulled off his mirrored aviators, leaned his head back, rotated his shoulders and seemed to relax. "Get comfortable, if what I'm hearing in my ear is right, this goes on for miles. Think we're gonna get off if I can force our way out this lane to an exit and find another way back." Which he proceeded to do.

I didn't know where we were particularly but it was good to be off the road. Even the air conditioning could not entirely keep out the stench of exhaust, tires and whatever else made a smell on the road. We pulled to the side of the suburban street, Mariano let his door flop open and I followed suit. Getting out and stretching was suddenly the greatest treat of my life. Remembering how the cowboys rubbed each others shoulders after a long day in the saddle, I came around to where he was leaning against the grill, turned him and began using my thumbs to get into those muscles too long held in one place as he drove. If he was surprised he didn't show it but there was a palpable gratitude as he turned so I could get a better purchase on his body.

"Jesus, where'd you learn that? Sure feels good....could you maybe move your hands down my spine, really tear into me." I knew he had a good body, in addition to displaying the gun, his jogging things left nothing to the imagination as to how the man was assembled and it was a very fine body. As I continued to work on him, he slipped out of his jacket, pulled off his tie and unbuttoned most of his shirt. It was tempting. So fucking tempting. As my hands kneaded his back and shoulders, they slid around and found his breast meat, taught, nipples rising.....It was quiet. The trees had, some of them, started to turn and the tree lined road seemed like a set from a movie. He took hold of my hands and held them first over his chest then slid them down to just above his belt, pulling out his shirt as he did.

"Carey will never know what he's missed. Jesus fucking Mary, this isn't something I planned on, bet you didn't either." He raised one of my hands and gently bit it between the thumb and forefinger. "Keep up what you're doing while I think what to do next."

"You don't know what to do next?" The question startled him. "So, you asked me, I'll ask you, are you gay?"

"Not publicly, just a few people in a few places and this wasn't one I every expected. Ace, you're a catch and Carey's  fool if he doesn't get you down there and make peace with himself. You'd be in favor of that I spect." He was right so there was no point in answering. 

"How much do you know how to do? Like anything in particular? Getting fucked, getting sucked, sucking, anything kinky......"

I thought carefully. "I know what a bunch of horny ranch hands and cowboys-the two aren't the same-can teach by show and tell on ranch in Nebraska. My ass has been nicely opened and I keep a good sized plug to make sure it stays that way. I can suck and be sucked. Never deep throated but it's a learnable skill and, as they found out, I was an eager student. Got tied up a few times, got flogged, whipped, and returned the favor. Anyone on a ranch knows how to tie knots and now so do I. I can make cock ring from barbed wire and know how to use a light bulb socket for electricity. On  ranch you use things in ways they weren't made to be used. Didn't take me long to long, whatever they wanted to dish out, I had to eat and then do it myself. It was a long summer."

Mariano looked stunned. "Fuck, after that, I need a drink, so do you. I'd guess out West you could handle your own liquor." I just looked at him and let a smile of sorts wander across my face. "What's your pleasure? Beer, hard stuff?"

"Daytime, when we came in from a long ride, first a dip in the horse tank, clothes and all, then beer, cold, almost frozen. Later, Bourbon, not Jack Black, just some cheap shit that we bought in bulk cuz we had to drive three hundred miles, across the state line and back, to Kansas and they weren't into fancy booze, fact is, they were lucky to even be able to buy bottles. oh, and we used long necks to shove up our asses as we sat starkers on the fence. Nothing like seeing a bunch of guys, their asses hanging over with brown bottles stuck him. As Ned, he was the head wrangler would say 'Peaceful ain't it, full one way and the other." I wondered if that answered his question? He still had a vaguely startled look but that was settling into something more conspiratorial.

I was tempted to elaborate on ranch work, one or two details in particular that sort of rounded out my education on the Great Plains. "Got to go on two cattle round ups, ours and the neighbors. Learned how to hot and cold brand and three ways to nut the calves. Prairie oysters are good eating done right....of course one of the unspoken tests is whether you can just pick a large one straight from the barrel where they were thrown and chew on it as if it were tobacco. Something I didn't learn, by the way. How to chew and spit."

Mariano took out his all purpose, it will do everything phone and made an entry. "Ace, we are not going home tonight. Any objections?". 

I just kept on playing with his tit and set my teeth in his neck until I could feel him respond to the pain and the pressure. 

"Nope, I have nothing to do until a dentist's appoint in a couple of weeks. Shouldn't you take the car back? If nothing else, it's almost as obvious as an ice cream truck, just misses the music coming out the top". 

"It's signed out to me and no one will give a shit as to where me or it is. What would you say to a real Italian dinner, some booze and then we can figure out what next."

"How dim do you think I am? I KNOW  what's probably next, my only question is...do you?"

End of Part One