Warning! This is a tale about men loving men. If you find this disturbing - click off. If it's unlawful for you to read this - click off. If you under age - good luck if you can get away with it.
This is not a story for getting your rocks off. Just thought I'd let you know so you won't waste your time if that's what your looking for.
Otherwise, I hope you enjoy my writing.
I appreciate feedback and do my best to respond to it all. I may be contacted at:
J S . Collection at Verizon . Net
It was the beginning of June. I was fifteen that year. School would be out for the summer in a couple of weeks. It was one of the rare days that I didn't get off the bus at Billy's. We'd had an argument about something and he wasn't talking to me, so I just went on home.
The moment I walked in the door I knew something was wrong. There was the smell of blood in the air. It raised my hackles. At the top of the stairs there was a blood covered shirt laying on the floor. I dropped my books, picked up Tom's shirt and ran into his room not knowing what to expect. I froze when I saw him.
He was leaning against the edge of the window staring out at nothing. His arms were covered in dried blood and there were smudges of it on his face and body. The front of his Levi's were soaked. I crept over to him. He never looked at me. He just stared out the window. His eyes were vacant.
"Tom? Are you okay? What happened? Why are you covered in blood?"
At first I thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he sighed.
"Joe's dead. That damned Longhorn bull gored him."
"Oh, God, no." Tears burst from my eyes. "Poor Neil." I'd thought about what it meant no having a father and mother, but I'd never felt any big loss. Tom was all I had ever had and he was all I needed. But Neil had just found his daddy five years ago and now he'd lost him. I keenly felt that lost. And Tom. He and Joe had been the closest of friends. There was no one who was closer to some one than those two were. I think that Tom losing Joe was probably worse than a woman losing her husband or vice versa.
I stepped up to Tom and put a arm around his back. He turned and crumpled onto me and we wept. I staggered with him over to the bed. At fifteen I still hadn't started my growth spurt. He collapsed onto the bed and I sat next to him wrapping my arms around the big man. He laid his shaggy head on my shoulder and cried for a long time. I held him until he stopped.
"You need to get out of these clothes and shower." I told him. He just nodded his head against my neck and didn't move.
"Come on, Tom, I'll help you."
I nudged him. He sat up straight but didn't stand. He looked so lost. I got up and lifted his leg, grabbing the heal of his boot I pulled it off, then his sock. I repeated the same thing with his other foot. I felt like some kind of pervert as I admired his feet. They had a tuft of hair on the top of the instep and on the top of each toe.
I got him to stand up and I buckled his belt and unbuttoned his Levi's. My finger's grazed his pubic hair. I started getting a woody. Ignoring it, I pulled his pants down. I had to lift each leg to slide the pant leg off. He just stood there, a hand on my head to keep his balance, offering me no help.
I dropped the jeans in a pile on the boots with the bloody shirt. Taking his hand I led him into the bathroom. After adjusting the temperature I pushed him into the spray. Again he just stood there. Exasperated, I shucked out of clothes and got in with him.
Lifting a blood covered arm, I soaped it. I used my nails to loosed the caked blood. He even had Joe's blood under his finger nails. Before I dropped the first arm I made sure there was no blood on it anywhere. And then I did the same with the other.
I washed his hair, and watched the water run red as I rinsed it. His face and neck, and then his body, I gently soaped and rinsed, too. I inspected him for any more traces of blood, turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry him off. He suddenly came to life. Taking the towel from me he dried himself. I took another towel and dried myself. Picking up my clothes I headed for my room to dress.
It's funny, standing naked in the shower, my hands all over his body I never got hard, but the moment I thought about it afterwards I had a difficult time buttoning up my Levi's.
Tom had dressed and combed his hair by the time I got back in to check on him.
"You doing okay, Tom." I asked.
"Should I try washing these clothes?" I stood looking down a the bloody heap.
"Burn 'em. The boots, too."
As I started to bundle them up I watched him take his Colt 45 out of it's holster and check the bullet chamber, and then stuff it back into the holster. I dropped the bloody clothes and wiped my hands on my pants.
"What are you going to do?"
"I got something to take care of."
I was frightened that he would use it on himself.
"I'm going with you."
"No, you stay here."
"Like hell I will. I'm going with you."
"Alright then, come on."
We went out to the pickup. It looked like there had been a war in it. The vinyl seat, the floor board, the steering wheel were all covered in Joe's blood. Tom ignore it and got in. I grabbed a towel that he kept behind the seat and laid it over where the seat I had to sit.
He took off like a bat out of hell down the dirt road, over the cattle guard toward Joe's spread. He came to a screeching stop at the corral. Taking the Colt 45 out of his holster, he got out of the truck and walked to the corral.
The two hired Mexican ranch hands came running over. Carmen and Neil came out of the house, running to see what was happening. I had forgotten about Neil. His dad had been killed. God, how could I have forgotten that.
He ran into my arms. I hugged him hard against me. I heard one of the hands yell something. Turning, I saw Tom in the corral with the Longhorn bull.
"Oh My God." I yelled. Pulling Neil with me we ran to the corral. Carmen was right behind us weeping and praying to her Madre de Dios. The two hired hands were on the top rails prepared to jump into the corral.
Tom stood about twenty-five feet from the bull. It's head was down and it was snorting.
"Come on, you son of a bitch, let's see who dies next." Tom growled.
The bull pawed at the ground and snorted some more. I could see Joe' dried blood on one of it's horns. We all held our breath. Suddenly the bull charged at Tom. He raised the 45 and aimed at the bull. What was he waiting for? Why didn't he pull the trigger?
The bull was about ten feet from him when he finally fired. A small hole appeared in it's forehead. Tom didn't even flinch as the bull, even in death, continued to charge. It's feet failed it as it slid head first toward him. The bull's head landed on his boot. He stared down at the bull for a long time as its eyes dimmed, and then he kicked it's head aside in disgust.
He turned to the hired hands.
"Cut the head off and skin it. And tie it to the back of my pickup and drag it out to an arroyo. Let the buzzards have the bastard. Put the head and skin in the back of my truck and I'll take it to the taxidermist."
Tom opened the corral gate and walked out. He looked at a loss as to what to do now. I watched him as I held Neil against me. Elena walked up to him and took his hand. She led him into the kitchen and made him sit down.
Elena stood with tears streaking her cheeks. She looked at Tom.
"That bull killed my little boy, my son. I raised him from a little boy, you know." She cried. Tom stood up and wrapped his arms around her.
"I am so sorry, Elena."
"I know he was the love of your life, Tomas, lo siento tambien."
"It is true. We loved each other from the first day we met."
"I know, you were like these two. Always together. And now it is so sad. He is gone. And these to will have to go their separate ways. Que lastima."
Tom didn't reply. He covered his face with his hands and laid his forehead on Elena's soft shoulder and let the tears flow. She patted his back and made motherly noises to him.
Neil and I stood in the doorway witnessing these broken hearts. Neil hugged me tight.
"You're the only ones I've got now, Billy. You and Uncle Tom. And Elena. I'm so glad you came. I love you guys." He whispered in my ear.
Neil sat in a chair, drying his eyes.
"My grandparents are will be here soon. I guess after we bury my dad I'll have to go live with them. I'm going to miss you so much. I miss my daddy already."
"You had your daddy for five years. And you're old enough to remember him for the rest of your life. I can't even remember what my daddy looked like when he smiled at me."
"They are your grandparents, Neil. They love you. You'll be happy with them." Tom said.
"They don't love me. I look too much like my dad. They hated my dad."
Tom didn't know how to respond to that so he just ruffled Neil's hair and squeezed his shoulder.
We went to the funeral. Tom was a pallbearer. After we got back home Tom sat on the porch and told me how he and Joe had been best friends all his life. But Joe went off to college at the university in Albuquerque. And then he got married. They didn't get to see each other very much after Joe got married, and took over his family's ranch. And then when his wife had died soon after Neil was born. Joe started coming over to see him again.
Neil's grandfather had hated Joe. He hadn't wanted his daughter to marry him. And when she died from complications from the birth, he blamed her death on Joe. They took the baby, out of obligation to their dead daughter, but Joe was adamant that as soon as the child was old enough he would raise his son himself and he told Tom he'd make damn sure his son didn't grow up to be a tight assed hypocrite like the two of them.
After the funeral, Mr. Post, Neil's grandfather approached Tom about leasing Joe's ranch to him until Neil was of age. Joe had made up a will that forbade the sale of the ranch until Neil was of age to decide what he wanted to do with it. Tom agreed to the deal. He bought all of Joe's cattle
He took the bull's head to a taxidermist and had the skin tanned. He hung the head over
the fireplace and put the skin on the floor as a rug.
My world was really changing. My best friend was gone. I was turning into a man. I was still kind of small, but my voice was deepening and I was growing body hair. My dick was be coming man-size too. I was building lots of muscle working around the ranch.
During this time I discovered an interest in New Mexican history. I found a big old book in Tom's library written in the 1920's. It had lots of curious, but very interesting pictures in it. As I read I came across the name Post. A Theodore G. Post had married the last heir to a large Spanish land grant who in her own right was very wealthy. There were pictures of the couple and their little girl. And there were several pictures of the original family home set amongst huge cottonwood trees on the banks of the Rio Grande. I showed the picture to Tom and asked him if that was Neil's granddad and if that was where Neil now lived. He affirmed my suspicions and then it dawned on me that Neil would probably never come back into my life. I sighed and put the book back on the shelf.
I felt so alone. Tom ignored me for the most part. I'd catch him eyeing me some times but he would drop his stare and go on about what ever he was doing. I tried to talk to him, but he'd just tell me to mind my own business. Tom grew morose and started drinking. He would sit and stare at that long horned bull's head and just get more depressed.
Uncle John came out to the ranch a couple of times and they ended up fighting each time. So he stopped coming out altogether.
Tom started drinking more. On the anniversary of Joe's death Tom sat at the kitchen table and drank until he passed out. He had been growing more and more sullen. I was more alone than I had ever been. I hauled his ass over to the sofa, laid him down and pulled off his boots. I covered him with a quilt and went to bed.
The next morning he was still dead to the world. I went out and took care of all the chores, took a bath and fixed myself some breakfast. I sat at the kitchen table and watched Tom sleep and sipped my coffee. I wished there was some thing I could do, but I was at a total loss. He woke about three that afternoon, and dragged himself upstairs to the shower. I put on a fresh pot of coffee. When he came back down he looked almost normal.
After that he didn't drink any for a couple of weeks, although he was still morose and sullen. One morning we had to replace some fence posts. That's hard work, digging holes to set the new posts into. We both had our shirts off and sweating like workhorses. I had always openly admired Tom's magnificent hairy torso. He would grin and sometime take a muscle man pose for me. But back then I was still a kid. This time he caught me looking and frowned.
"Keep your eyes to yourself, boy. I don't need you undressing me every time you look at me."
He may as well have slapped me. He had never talked to me in a mean voice like that. I dropped my eyes and went about my work. I caught him eyeing me, and it made me feel like maybe I should put my shirt on to cover my nakedness. But it was hot sweaty work; I put it out of my mind and finished tacking the barbed wire on to the new post.
Later we were at the water tank for a swim. It was a hot afternoon. I was lying on the rim, which was about a foot wide, letting the sun and the soft warm breeze dry me off. I don't recall that I was thinking about anything in particular, but I threw a boner laying there in the hot sun. I was always doing that in those days. When I realized I was hard I looked see where Tom was. He was sitting on the opposite side of the tank watching me. He had his little flask in his hand. He was staring at me. He was hard, too.
I felt excited and at the same time I suspected that he didn't want me looking at him
after the incidence earlier in the day while we were setting fence posts. I had long ago
figured out that Tom and Joe had been lovers. I knew it had to be hard for him to be
completely alone with no one to love. And although I wanted so badly to replace Joe in his
life, I felt I was tempting fate by lying there flaunting my manhood. I rolled off the edge
of the tank, dropped to the ground and put my clothes on.
As I slid my arms into my shirt sleeves, I looked up to see him standing like a Grecian god on the tank rim. He had a dark smoldering look on his face. He held my gaze for a few moments before I dropped my eyes, and hurried to button my shirt. When I looked up again he was gone.
I sat down in the cool dark shade of the tank, gathered my knees to my chest and wondered what had just transpired. Tom came around the tank fully dressed, telling me it was time to get our chores done. We rode home in glum silence.
We didn't talk to each other as we headed back to the house and got our chores and supper out of the way. I sat down on the porch waiting for Tom to come out and join me. After several minutes, when he didn't show, I went into the house looking for him.
That was that night that I tried to seduce him. After that night all communication between us was basic and minimal. What was really strange was that he didn't drink anymore. The bottle that he had been drinking from that night set in the middle of the table, untouched. I didn't remove it, nor did he. I thought that night had turned things around for Tom. He'd let out a lot of pent up emotion. He'd been like him old self again. But the next morning it back to the old morose depressed Tom
End of Chapter 4 Look for Chapter 5 soon to follow. If you like my story, it'd be real nice of you to tell me. I can be contacted at JS. Collection @ Verizon. Net. Of course you have to drop the capitals and spaces for it to work.