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- Erik -
A smile came to my face as I watched Ryan and Will walk up the main sidewalk towards the school in their caps and gowns. As a Dad, it was one of those days you think about a lot. And as a single Dad, I really had a good bit of pride in the accomplishment.
Will was disappointed, but the blue sling I had found to hold his right arm faded into the blue of his gown. He had four more weeks, at a minimum, of wearing the sling before he would start physical therapy. Only time would allow the ball and socket joint of his shoulder to heal.
Will had been keenly disappointed at having to sit in the dugout and watch instead of playing on the field during their last game. Watching the team be eliminated early in the state championship tournament had added to the disappointment greatly.
As I returned my thoughts to the present, I turned to Shirley and Frank, "One last time for you two."
"Yes, at this level," Shirley answered. "At least three more to go on a college level." Shirley beamed, and it was obvious she was ecstatic that with Will heading to Virginia Tech in the fall all of her boys would be in college.
"You'll have to help me push Tracer a bit more," I spoke up.
Tracer gave me a dirty look.
"How?" Frank asked.
"I'm trying to convince him to transfer to Clinch Valley College - I mean the University of Virginia at Wise. They just changed the name."
"That's a lot longer drive!" Tracer started his defense.
"Yes, it is -- an hour each way. But you can get a full bachelor's degree there. Regardless, let's not start in on this now. Sorry I brought it up. Let's focus on this happy event!"
We walked into the gymnasium and found Patrick and Tiffany on the bleachers.
"Glad you two made it," Frank said as he greeted the young couple.
"How was the drive from Memphis? You two must be exhausted," Shirley added.
"Yeah, we left at five a.m. and got here about thirty minutes ago," Patrick explained.
"Too early to get up!" Tiffany commented.
"Well, for nine hours on the road," Tracer noted, "you two look pretty good." He grabbed Patrick and hugged him tightly.
"Nice to finally meet you, Erik." Tiffany said.
"Nice to meet you," I replied.
We all took our seats. I took a look through the program for the ceremony, only getting through a couple pages before the processional music started.
I felt a few tears come to my eyes as I watched Ryan enter the gym. I noticed that Shirley's eyes went wet as Will entered. I guess the ceremony was typical, but it was the first I'd been to since I'd graduated. The Valedictorian's speech was surprisingly good, not the typical, "We came, we saw, we conquered."
I felt the tears flow a bit more as Ryan walked across the stage and received his diploma. Tracer nudged me and handed me a handkerchief. I smiled and mouthed a `thank you' to him.
A few moments later, I noticed Tracer handing a second handkerchief to Shirley as the tears started streaming down her cheeks. Tracer and Patrick let out a yell as Will's name was announced.
After the ceremony, the six of us stood in front of the school. Other parents would stop and chat for a moment. Finally, I turned to Patrick and Tiffany.
"Why don't you two wait for Ryan and Will and drive them back."
"OK," Patrick agreed.
"The four of us can head back to the farm and get the grills started and the cold food out on the tables before all the guests arrive," I suggested.
"How many are coming?" Tiffany asked.
"Between sixty and eighty, I would guess," Tracer answered. "We invited twenty kids from their class, and all their families."
"Oh my gosh, big party!" Tiffany sounded startled.
"It's the graduation present the boys wanted," I answered. "Instead of parking at the house, just drive up to the other end of the property. We've got a huge tent set up and everything will be there when y'all arrive."
"What time does everyone arrive?" Patrick asked.
"Three, so that gives us a little more than an hour to get set up," Tracer responded. "We'll see you back at the farm."
Tracer and I walked towards the truck. I looked back and saw Shirley giving both Patrick and Tiffany a hug. She and Frank followed behind us a bit. We all piled into the truck and Tracer got us on the road back to the farm.
"What's the plan for the party?" Shirley asked.
"I figure we can load all the meat into the coolers and get the coolers into Tracer's truck. You and I will then work on getting the rest of the food into my truck while Frank and Tracer head up to the other end of the property and get the grills going."
"Sounds like a good plan," Frank responded.
We worked hard to get everything loaded quickly and then Shirley and I headed to the far end of the property to join Frank and Tracer.
I pulled the truck onto the road and recognized Patrick's car just a short distance ahead of me.
"Are wedding bells too far off?" I asked Shirley.
"I hope they're at least three years off. I want them to finish college first!"
"I agree with that."
"Besides, I've got two boys married off already," she laughed.
"Yes, but no big weddings to show for it," I replied.
"Well, with no girls in the house I never expected to plan a big wedding. But Tracer and Will seem happily married without the ceremony."
"I'm sure you'll get involved when Patrick gets married."
"I'll try not to be a busy-body mother-in-law," Shirley answered.
I parked the truck next to Tracer's and all the guys swarmed over to help unload the food.
As Ryan walked up, I pulled him into a big hug. "Congratulations," I whispered into his ear. "I'm so very proud of you!"
"Thanks!" he whispered back.
"Don't I get a hug?" Will asked.
I looked at his arm in the sling. "A gentle one, I guess!"
We got things set up as the first cars pulled up. I never did figure out how many guests arrived, but Tracer said that with all the kids, it must have been around one hundred.
Patrick knew a lot of the graduates from his summer on the farm. The party was a chance to catch up and let them all meet his girl. The kids seemed to be having a great time.
As the food started to run low and the June sun started to dip slightly, the graduates -- including Will and Ryan - headed back towards town. The Sandler's were hosting a pool party. A few of the other parents helped us clean up after most of the guests left.
"OK. Looks like everything that needs to be cleaned up, is. We can take the tents down tomorrow," I said.
Tracer drove one truck back and I drove the other. We unloaded the trucks and all went into the house for the night.
"Anyone want something to drink?" Tracer asked.
"How about some coffee?" Frank answered.
"I'll put a pot on," Tracer responded.
"Do you have diet Coke?" Tiffany asked.
"Sure," I answered. "They should be in the door of the fridge."
"I'll take a Coke," Patrick stated.
The coffee finished brewing and we took our drinks into the den. The evening's conversation gave Tracer and me a great chance to get to know Tiffany. What I found was an intelligent young lady with a quick wit.
As the evening wore on, the yawns started to spread throughout the room.
"Time for bed," Tiffany announced.
"In that case, time for everyone to clear out of your bedroom," I explained. "Ryan made up the sleeper sofa this morning, so it's all ready for you."
"Let me show you where the bathroom is," Tracer offered.
While Tracer gave Tiffany a quick tour, the rest of us trooped upstairs. Frank and Shirley said their goodnights and retired to the guest room. I followed Patrick into the boys' room.
"Look like you have everything you need?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm not picky. A place to sleep and a few quiet hours will be just fine."
"Not much of a bed, unfortunately. Just an old army cot and I can't promise too many quiet hours once Ryan and Will get home."
"That could be pretty late. I'll get plenty of sleep!" Patrick replied.
"Night. Sleep well."
I walked into our bedroom and found Tracer getting ready for bed. "Hey, Handsome. How you doing?"
"Tired. It was a great day," he replied. "I'm gonna take a quick shower before bed."
"Sounds like a good idea. Leave it running and I'll hop in after you," I answered.
We each took a quick shower and then I stripped down and crawled into bed. I gave Tracer a good night kiss and turned to snuggle up to him.
"I think someone's glad to be alone with me," Tracer said.
"He has a mind of his own," I replied. Tracer's hand reached behind him and started stroking my already hard dick.
"I like the way he thinks!" Tracer answered.
Tracer rolled over so he was facing me and then he dove under the covers.
"Oh, fuck!" I moaned. Tracer's tongue was working up and down my shaft.
As he started sucking my cock, he continued turning his body until we were in a sixty-nine position.
With his hard dick in front of me, I took it into my mouth. This got a groan of pleasure to come from under the sheets. I used a few fingers to tease his balls while I worked my tongue around his cock.
I rolled us both over a bit more, Tracer now flat on his back with me over him. Neither of us lost hold of the dick in our mouths. Now, I was able to really give him a great blow job.
I started doing pushups, my dick working in and out of his mouth. At the same time, my mouth worked up and down his prick.
Tracer worked his hands up my legs to my ass cheeks. He used his hands on my buns to pull me down and hold me there. His tongue wrapped around my shaft, then he used his hands to push me back out a bit. I might be on top, but he was controlling the tempo.
I focused all my efforts on his dick -- teasing him, alternately licking and sucking to make him feel good. My skills at cock sucking had improved all the practice I'd been getting! I felt Tracer's dick start stiffening in my mouth. His moans increased around my dick.
Tracer pushed up on my legs, freeing my dick from his mouth.
"FUCK!" he groaned as his dick filled my mouth with cum. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
I sucked greedily till every last drop had come out.
I flipped over on the bed, lying on my back and put my hand around my dick.
"Oh no, you don't!"
"That thing is going in my ass!" Tracer ordered.
"Suit it up!" I replied.
Seconds later I pushed my condom-covered, lubed-up dick into Tracer's ass. After the blow job he'd been giving me, I figured I wouldn't last long.
Tracer was lying on his side and I was behind him pushing in. He called it a `snuggle fuck'. Thing was, in this position, I couldn't get long or fast strokes going, which prolonged the fuck!
We stayed like this for quite a while, slow, short strokes keeping me on edge, but not letting me cum. Finally, I pushed Tracer over onto his stomach and started longer, deeper thrusts.
"Fuck me," he panted.
"Damn right! Your tight ass is gonna milk me dry!"
I quickened my pace and shot -- filling the condom. I collapsed on his back pushing my dick in a bit deeper.
I nibbled around his neck and ears as I lay on top of him.
"Love you, Mister," I whispered into his ear.
"Love you too," he whispered back.
Finally my dick deflated enough that I was worried the condom would come off. I rolled off Tracer.
As I got out of bed to clean up a bit, Tracer gave me a funny look.
"I don't want to use condoms anymore," he said.
"We've been through this. Condoms till we get tested," I replied.
"Then let's get tested."
"OK. I can see what the county health department offers."
"I have a better idea," Tracer admitted.
"Oh? What's that?"
"Ryan, Will and I were talking," Tracer explained. "DC Gay Pride is in two weeks. We'd like to go up for the weekend. While we're there, you and I can get tested -- privately. And before you say anything about the farm, I've already checked. The crew can cover the schedule for us."
"Sounds like it's all planned," I answered as I crawled back into bed.
"Pretty much," he replied.
I leaned over and kissed Tracer deeply. Then I spooned up behind him, wrapped my arms around him and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Sunday morning, Tracer and I were the first in the kitchen.
"What do you want to fix for breakfast," I asked.
"I've got it all planned out," Tracer answered. "I'm going to make French toast and a sausage and egg casserole."
"What can I do to help?"
"There's two dozen eggs in the fridge, grab them and start cracking eggs into a large bowl. I figure eighteen for the casserole."
Tracer started cooking sausage as I cracked the eggs. We put together the casserole and then turned our attentions to preparing the batter. By the time everyone arrived in the kitchen the casserole was coming out of the oven and the first of the French toast was ready.
"What time are you heading back home?" Patrick asked his parents.
"We're leaving before lunchtime," Frank replied.
"Oh, I thought we'd have more time together," Tiffany said with a disappointed tone.
"When are y'all leaving for Memphis?"
"If Erik will put up with us, Tuesday," Patrick answered.
"We'd be glad to have you stay. We'll change the sheets on the guest bed this afternoon and move Tiffany up there. Otherwise, stay as long as you like," I offered.
After breakfast Frank and Shirley loaded up their car and took off for home. Ryan changed the sheets for Tiffany as I had promised and started a load of laundry. And Tracer and I went out to the stables to get the day started.
Morning chores awaited us, and we had two rental groups during the afternoon. It kept everyone very busy. At one point, I noticed Patrick and Tiffany just as they entered the inner loop trail on horseback.
Ryan and Tracer teamed up to make a great dinner. Pushing myself away from the table, I remembered a couple things I needed to do in the stable.
"If everyone will excuse me, I need to run out and deal with a few things."
"I'll help you, Dad," Ryan offered.
I was about to refuse his offer, until I looked at his face. After nearly eighteen years, I knew that look.
"That would be great."
We walked out towards the stables alone.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You can read me like a book."
"Hehehe. What's wrong?" I repeated.
"This is awkward, Dad. But, I need to..." Ryan started and then stopped.
We entered the stables and I motioned to one of the benches. I sat next to Ryan and waited patiently.
"It's about Will," he started. "I. I mean we. Oh damn, we aren't having sex."
"Oh," was all the response I could muster at first. Ryan started to speak and then stopped.
"Well, Son, is it because of Will's injury or some other issue?"
"It's because of his shoulder, I think. At first, he was in so much pain and on so much Percocet and stuff that he wasn't in the mood. But now, he's down to three or four pills a day and he says the pain is pretty low. But,..." Ryan's sentence drifted off.
"But he still doesn't seem interested?" I asked.
"And you're still horny as all hell?"
Ryan's face turned deep red. "Yeah," he said very quietly.
"Ryan, you have to understand the painkiller Will's on is masking the pain. In addition, they are messing with his head in lots of different ways. Remember what the doctor warned us -- he could get moody."
"Well, yeah. But, he's not moody. He's normal at this point."
"Moody doesn't just mean angry or silly; it could be a bit of depression. Plus, he's been through a lot - the pain of having his arm dislocated from his shoulder, the surgery to put the pins into the socket, and not getting to play in the state championships."
"And here I am whining about not getting off," Ryan added.
"Be fair, you're seventeen and used to getting sex regularly. Now, you're not, and it affects you. Have you talked to him?"
"Take your Old Man's advice. Talk to him. He loves you -- you two can work something out."
"But we can't have sex, not with his shoulder."
"Ah, so it's not just him not wanting sex. You're worried about hurting him too." A light bulb went off in my brain.
"Well," Ryan said quietly.
"Ryan, based on what the doctor said, it will probably be at least a month more before Will's arm is out of the sling. I doubt he'll be able to fuck or be fucked until that happens. But there are lots of other things you two can do. Be creative."
"Thanks, Dad. I'll talk to him about it."
We quickly took care of the chores and headed back into the house.
Copyright 2008 BndgDawg (BndgDawg@gmail.com). Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
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This is Chapter Twenty of Double Trails. I hope everyone enjoys reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. I look forward to positive comments, constructive criticisms and otherwise pleasantly worded feedback. Questions about the story are also welcome! I try to answer every e-mail I receive. Flames and attacks will be ignored and the sender's address blocked. Write me at BndgDawg@gmail.com
Thanks to Rock and Chael for all their comments, feedback and most importantly all the editing. Their skill and effort have polished this story greatly.