Date: Mon, 21 Nov 2016 15:16:53 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 40 of Come Christmas Steve in Gay Male/College

Come Christmas Steve

Chapter 40

From a Distance

Two weeks after the elections, it was approaching Thanksgiving. Snow was on
the ground and Whittaker had abandoned running around the property every
day. I'd received a letter from Steve and he was excited at the idea of my
coming to visit. Steve appealed to have me added to the visitor list and we
were both hopeful that as soon as the committee met, that would
happen. Even though it was cold, Whittaker and I still wanted to stay in
shape. We started getting up really early and going to Access Fitness out
on Highway 2. We drove past Colt's house getting there. I wondered how he
was doing each time we passed by.

In the locker room, I was treated to a daily view of Whittaker's
magnificent, lithe body. His tall frame was well muscled and he had a
tight, firm ass. His legs and arms were dusted with light orange body hair
and he sported a well-trimmed, bright orange pubic patch. Freckles
splattered themselves across his shoulders and cheeks. Naturally, the
crowning feature was his large penis and ample ball sac to complement
it. The sight of him naked, especially dripping wet from the shower, made
my dick twitch and my back door itch. I was in love with Steve, but I
couldn't deny my natural lust for Whittaker's flesh.

He'd catch me ogling and smile occasionally. He never said anything, but
neither did he make an effort to hide anything from me. Once in a while,
he'd get coquettish and wiggle his hips to make his big dick flop
around. He always had flaunted the assets that he knew he had. He was a
tease by nature. I wasn't the only one in the lockers who allowed
themselves an extra glance or an uncomfortably long stare as he strode by.

The time we spent going to and from the gym each morning and the time we
spent at meals and working together resulted in sharing things about
ourselves that were very personal and often poignant.  I loved to hear his
ideologies and thoughts on life. He was evolving. He attended church every
Sunday with us and we would drive separately from the family so we could go
to the gym afterwards. It was fun engaging in thought provoking discussions
about the sermon on our drive. Whittaker would seek out and sit with Shawna
when she wasn't in the choir.

It made me happy that they still liked each other. I liked her also and I
thought she was great for Whittaker. I was glad to see that they were still
taking things slow. Occasionally, they held hands, but they never kissed in
public. I sort of wished I could have had that kind of slow growing
relationship with Steve, but that wasn't how it happened. For us, it was
whirlwind. Every love relationship develops in its special and unique
way. Whittaker had only met her one time for a date since I'd been home,
and he just gave me minimal details when I asked him how things went. He
hadn't had time for dating while the election was still on and he was
juggling the business and his campaign duties and didn't have me to help
since I was in jail in Caspar.

That Cheyenne girl attended church each week also. While I was in jail, she
had moved to Kalispell and gotten a job at the hospital kitchen with Pastor
Nichols' help. The little boy was less clingy to her and they both dressed
a little nicer. I still couldn't figure out who the little guy reminded me
of. It seemed odd to me how, in just a few months of being away, things had
already changed.

One thing that hadn't changed was Billy and Jaime. They were both as crazy
in love as ever and humping like rabbits every Wednesday and I suspected on
Saturday's as well. Billy was working hard to finish his online schooling
and get to a university where he could start fresh and get back into team
sports. He had several schools looking at him. Wherever he went, the plan
was that Jaime would follow. The high school offered to let him return now
that my legal mess had cleared up and died down, but he told them quite
literally, to fuck off.

I started thinking about my future knowing that I couldn't just live at
home and help run the business, which was really doing well already. I had
to get out there, find my calling in life, get an education and start
making a living so that I could support Steve through school when he got
out of prison. But I wanted to do none of that or even think about it until
after the holidays were over with. I loved the holidays, especially on the
ranch. Mom was making preparations already for a big Thanksgiving and two
families from Dad's side and one from Mom's side were coming this year. One
of them was Nicolas' family and even he and his brother, Daniel, had
accepted the invite. I was a little nervous about that being awkward, but
Whittaker told me not to worry about it. He was usually right about that
sort of thing.

It was my third Sunday home and we were attending church in the Elks
Lodge. Since the congregation at Christs Church had fallen off a cliff
after Reverend Lewis' arrest, many had found their way to Pastor Nichols'
church. Six boys from Reverend Lewis' congregation came forward with
allegations of abuse against him. He was a foul, hypocritical scumbag. The
boys were of various ages, even two in their early twenties. Colt was the
youngest one of his accusers.

The crowds at our church were too large for the small chapel and plans were
being made for a new facility. Whittaker and I volunteered for the
fundraising committee and we were working on plans for a turkey shoot
fundraiser for the Saturday before Thanksgiving.

After church, I was helping to fold the metal chairs in the makeshift
chapel when I heard a familiar voice say, "Excuse me." I turned around and
let the chair I was about to fold rest back on the floor.

"Hello, Colt," I said. He was standing next to his mother, who was a little
behind him holding Sammy's little hand. Sammy was looking for someplace
else to go and play. Colt was looking down at his shiny boots.

"I, I, I...," he stammered. I came to say I'm sorry." He fought off tears
and folded back into his mother.

"Oh Colt," I said. "You don't have to apologize to me. I don't have
anything against you. What you did was really brave. You did the only thing
you thought you could in order to protect your little brother. I'm proud of
you for that. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm sorry I didn't really listen to
you. I'm sorry I didn't let you confide in me so maybe I could have helped
you. You're not the bad guy, Colt. Reverend Lewis is the bad guy. Don't
cry."

He sniffed and wiped his eyes and then he let go of his mom and wrapped
himself around me. I sat down on the chair and we hugged each other. "Let
it go, Colt." I said. "Don't let it keep hurting you inside. Just let it
go."

After our hug, Mrs. Withers thanked me and as they turned to leave, I
called to them, "Hey, we could use some help at the pie throwing booth on
Saturday for the Turkey Shoot. What do you say? Would you help us out?"

Colt looked up at his mom, hopeful. "Can I?"

She smiled back and said, "Sure."

He looked at me and asked, to my surprise, "Can Scott come help too?"

"Sure. The more the merrier, right?" I said.

"Cool! Thanks. See you Saturday." I smiled and waved. I went back to
folding up chairs and whistling while I did it. I think I was whistling
Dixie. Really. I don't know why, I just was. "Oh, I wish I was in Dixie,
Hurray! Hurray!" It's such a happy tune.

Whittaker and I agreed to dress up in turkey costumes and put on games for
the kids while the men participated in the shooting competitions. They
didn't actually shoot live turkeys like in the old days. It was just a
target competition to test marksmanship. There would be a prize for the
most points accumulated on rifle, pistol, shotgun and muzzle loader
events. There would be a bake sale and pumpkin pie eating contest. It
sounded like a nice community event and it was fun being involved in
something positive.

Whittaker was such an organizer and I was pretty good at talking people
into participating. Everything was coming together nicely. We enlisted
Billy and Jaime and even got Cheyenne and Shawna involved.  That week was
crazy busy, running the business and finding time to get everything ready
for the Turkey Shoot. We had no time for the gym and I was missing
it. Wednesday of that week, Whittaker was acting really weird around
me. Finally, I asked him what was going on.

"Nothing," he said smirking.

"Liar. You are an awful liar. What's going on?"

"I told you, nothing. Okay. There's a big surprise tonight on TV. My mom
called me about it."

As hard as I tried, I could not get him to tell me what was going on. It
was killing me all day to find out.  At 5:00, we all gathered around the TV
and tuned in to the evening news. "This is it," Whittaker said, dripping
with excitement.

The news anchor smiled her artificial grin and said, "In keeping with a
long standing tradition, President Barnes was on the White House lawn
earlier today." There was a turkey in a small enclosure on the lawn,
strutting and gobbling for the cameras. The anchor carried on, "President
Barnes officially pardoned the turkey as has been the official tradition
since the first Bush administration. President Kennedy actually let the
first one go but without a reference to it being a pardon. That was just
four days before his assassination." Thanksgiving turkeys have been
presented by the National Turkey Federation, the turkey grower's lobby, to
all the Presidents since President Truman in 1947. Each year they give the
turkey a name and this year, President Barnes dubbed this one, Lucky Ducky,
a little play on words with him being a lame duck president."

"That's the big surprise? The President pardoned a turkey?" I asked.

"Hold on. Wait for it," Whittaker said.

"In an unusual departure from the traditional ceremony, President Barnes
extended some additional pardons today, only not to other turkeys. Eleven
Federal Prisoners are going to be having a happier Thanksgiving this
year. Here's what he announced," the anchor said.

I didn't get it still. Everyone was staring at me. "What?" They laughed and
pointed at the TV and shushed each other so I could hear.

"I'm going to hand out a few more pardons this year, in my final term. I
want to specifically address two of these pardons, which my critics will
surely decry because of the nature of the crimes. I have had an exhaustive
review made of the facts and circumstances in these two cases, and I have
personally reviewed the results. I believe a gross injustice was made in
both of these cases," the President began.

"Shut up!" I cried. "Shut up!" I jumped out of my seat. "Is this really
happening?"

"Sure is," Whittaker said. "We need to set two more places for
Thanksgiving!"

"No way! No way! I can't believe it!!!" I was tingling all over. I was
crying and mom was crying and everyone was clapping. I had to grab the
remote and back up the dvr so I could hear the rest of the announcement.

The President continued, "The two young men being pardoned were raised in a
publicly funded boys home in Montana. While in that environment, designed
to protect and nurture them, they were abused and defiled instead. They
suffered physical, sexual and emotional abuse at the hands of their
caretakers and when they turned eighteen and finally escaped the confines
of hell, the crime they were charged with was not disclosing the abuse to
authorities. For this, they went to prison on a plea agreement. This was
forced upon them, even though they were under the duress of losing their
lives if they did. Rather than risk many years in a brutal prison, while
still boys themselves, they chose a plea bargain. That was not a choice
either of them should have had to make. They were victims, not
perpetrators. So along with nine others, whose appeals have been before me
for several years and have been recommended by the Attorney General's
office, I officially pardon them all fully and order their immediate
release from incarceration and their criminal records cleared."

We all exploded with joy. I was jumping up and down and screaming like a
teenage girl at a Justin Bieber concert. It was nuts. There were hugs and
tears and laughter. Mom shocked me when she came in with a bottle of
champagne and Dad uncorked it. They poured glasses for everyone, including
Whittaker and myself. They even let Billy and Jaime have a glass. We
celebrated. We called Mrs. Whittaker.

"I guess you heard the good news." she said.

"We sure did!" I answered. "I hear you had a lot to do with it. I can't
thank you enough. You're the best."

"My part was small. I just got it in front of the right people and I
trusted the President to do the right thing. This pardon is
unprecedented. The process of getting a Presidential pardon is normally
three or four years at least. But it was right and everyone knew it was
right."

"I'm so happy. I can't even tell you," I said.

"I'm happy that you're happy."

"So what happens next?" I asked.

"I've volunteered to pick them up once all the paperwork is handled. I have
acted as their advocate in this. It's been in the works since they were
first convicted, but I didn't want to say anything so as not to create any
false hopes."

"When will that be?" I asked.

"Probably Friday. We'll be in Kalispell by Saturday morning."

"Oh my gosh, Saturday morning we'll all be at the Turkey Shoot."

Mrs. Whittaker laughed. "I'll alert the President. Maybe he can pardon that
one too."  We all laughed with her and I told her, "We don't actually shoot
a turkey. It's just a celebration and fundraiser. The local guys all
compete in marksmanship competitions for bragging rights and prizes."

"Sounds like fun. Where will we find you then?" she asked.

I turned her over to Mom and they chatted privately for a while and Mom
passed on the location of the Elk's Lodge where the big celebration was
being held. I overheard snippets of their conversation and I could tell
they were discussing my trial and dropped charges. I chose to tune it
out. "Let's go to the gym," I suggested to Whittaker.

"I can't believe what a great and powerful Mom you have," I said.

He laughed. "Maybe we need to start calling her OZ."

"OZ?" I asked.

"Yeah, you know, THE GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ!"

"Oh. Funny," I said.

"I can't believe Steve is really coming here this Saturday," I said.

"I can't wait for him to see you dressed up as a turkey," Whittaker
laughed.

"Oh my gosh. I forgot. I have to get out of that," I said.

"No way! If I have to do it, you have to do it. You're the one who
volunteered us," Whittaker said.

"Wow. If I'd known he was coming, I wouldn't have."

"Hey, he might as well know right off he's getting stuck with a turkey,"
Whittaker prodded.

"You're such a comedian," I said.

The workout was good for me and I liked feeling the burn in my muscles. I
was excited that soon, Steve would be joining us. I took a deliciously long
look at Whittaker's body as we dried off in the locker room.  I knew I'd
have to be careful not to do that in front of Steve. It wouldn't be good at
all to do that. The idea that as soon as Saturday night, my lover could be
holding me and caressing me again was enough to get me plumped
up. Whittaker noticed and teased me. I didn't mind.

"What about Todd?" Whittaker asked out of the blue.

"What about Todd?" I asked back.

"He will be coming too. Will that be awkward?" Whittaker asked. "He has
nowhere to go. Will your parents put him up too? Should we put the second
bed back in my shack for him? I assume your parents are going to let Steve
stay in your room. I mean, will they?" Whittaker had such a way of thinking
through things. I never even thought of any of that.

"I don't know," I admitted, slowly. "That's kind of a problem."

"Kind of. We need to talk about it."

"Whittaker," I began as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed home,
"Am I making too much of an assumption about Steve?"

"What do you mean?"

"Things he said in his letters. He said I shouldn't wait for him. He said
he wasn't sure I'd be happy with him and that I'd think he was tarnished or
something. What if," I stopped myself.

"What if he doesn't love you as much as you love him?" Whittaker asked.

"No. That's not it," I said.

"I'm being honest now, okay. Don't freak out on me," I said.

"Whoa. Okay, I solemnly swear to not freak out. What?"

"What if, I'm not sure it's right. I mean I love him, I know I do. But what
if he has doubts because he's sensed my doubts. He said we've only known
each other for a short time and it wasn't exactly all roses and harp
music," I said.

Whittaker didn't freak out. He didn't even answer. He didn't even look at
me. "I think," he finally said, then paused. "I think you're a complicated
piece of work."

"Oh god, I'm being stupid, aren't I. I mean, I love him. And he says he
loves me, and I'm just afraid, right?  Afraid of a commitment probably,
right?" I rambled.

"No, Shane. Can I be a little honest?"

"Sure. That's why I asked."

"I think you were in a vulnerable spot when you met Steve and he helped you
through it. Then you risked everything, including our lives to save him and
you succeeded. He is going to love you for that.  But both of those kinds
of love, real as they are, and even the hot sex you love having together is
not the same kind of love that has kept your parents married for all these
years and sustained them through all their trials. I think you both can be
good for each other and I think you both can develop that kind of love, but
I think you need to be careful not to mistake the two."

I stared in awe at Whittaker. He was so insightful. I marveled. "Who are
you and where did you hide the real Whittaker from MSU? The guy who once
asked a girl if you could borrow an extra-large condom and then introduce
you to her roommate?"

"Did I really do that?"

"You don't remember? At breakfast?"

"Oh yeah. I guess I decided to snap that Whittaker's neck and decided to
grow up."

"I guess you did," I agreed. "I guess you did."

"He's dead you know."

"Who Calvin?" I was confused.

"Him too, but no."

"The old Whittaker?" I asked.

"Him too, thank god, but no again. I'm talking about Uncle Arty. The guy
who's neck I really did snap. He died of pneumonia, brought on by his being
a paraplegic, thanks to me."

"He is? When did he die?" I asked.

"While you were in jail, awaiting trial," Whittaker informed me.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I asked.

"You were pretty busy with more important things. It's for the best, I
suppose. I tell myself that. It saves the cost of a trial and Steve the
pain of testifying against hi, not to mention you and I," Whittaker said.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Then he added, "I never thought it would bother me. He deserved to
die. Still, knowing I..." he stopped himself.

"Wow. I'm sorry you're dealing with that. You did what you did to save good
lives. Arty's was an evil life.  He chose evil and he didn't give a damn
about anyone her hurt. All he cared about was himself. Look what he did to
Steve, his own son. Arty's the reason Calvin is gone. He'd abused and
emotionally scarred little kids and even killed young boys."

"I know all of that," Whittaker said.

"I've read that even for soldiers in battle and cops who have to kill
people, it affects them. Taking life affects good people even if it is
required of them for the greater good. If you weren't such a good, caring
person, it wouldn't affect you."

Whittaker started to shed tears. "Thanks," he said. "You always seem to say
the right things to me. I love you, man."

"I love you too, Whittaker." We arrived home and parted without any more
words. He needed some space.

Before knowing it, Saturday arrived. We rushed around and spent all morning
setting up the booths around the sides of the multi-purpose room for the
different carnival games. The ladies were setting up for the fried chicken
lunch that was available for only ten dollars a plate. Tables with
checkered paper tablecloths were set up in the middle of the room.

The shooting competitions were already arranged in the farmer's field that
bordered the Elks Lodge. No kids were allowed on that side of the fence. It
was the perfect location for the Turkey Shoot. Whittaker and I were both
dressed in our turkey costumes, except for the ridiculous feet and stupid
looking hats that only our faces peeked out of. We weren't putting those on
until the very last minute. As ridiculous as I looked, Whittaker looked
twice as silly. There just was no way to get a costume to properly fit his
tall frame and brown leggings crept up to the middle of his calves. He kept
sneaking around behind the church ladies and then blurting out, "gobble,
gobble, gobble" making them jump. He laughed and trotted off as they
scolded him.

At ten o'clock, people started arriving and it was a wonderful
turnout. Pastor Nichols was walking around greeting people and offering
tickets for a 50/50 raffle to be drawn in the afternoon. Around 11:30,
while the lunch crowd was getting in line for the big fried chicken feed,
someone walked up behind me and said, "Guess who?"

"I guess it's a big turkey who is hungry for some chicken?" I said,
thinking it was Whittaker being goofy and wanting to slip away for lunch.

"Nope," he said letting his hands off my eyes. I spun around and shouted,
"Steve!" I stretched my wings and hugged the stuffing out of him. He hugged
me tight for a long time.

When we released, he said, "I can't believe I'm standing here in front of
you. Thank you, Shane, for all you've done for me and for Todd."

"Don't thank me for that. Whittaker's mom is responsible for that. The
president wouldn't take my calls so she took over," I responded. He smiled.

"I have thanked her, but it was you who got everything started. You set the
whole process in motion that set Todd and me free from the shackles of our
past. I'll never forget it."

"Whatever I did, I did because I love you," I professed.

"I love you too, Shane. I really do," he said. I was bursting with
joy. Todd was standing back by Mrs.  Whittaker grinning widely. I'd
forgotten how ridiculously handsome he was. We made eye contact and he
stepped forward and thrust out his hand.

"Me too, man. Thanks for all you did," he said as we shook hands. I
shrugged demurely. I really felt like I was getting way too much credit.

"So," Whittaker said to Todd, "how about you come help me out with the
games and we let these two turkeys go get some lunch and do some catching
up?"

"Glad to," Todd responded. "Just don't put me in any headlocks, okay?" He
jumped at the chance to avoid the awkwardness of being the odd man in the
circle.

I pulled off my rubber feet and removed my grey headgear with the dangling
red wattle under the chin.  It felt good to get it off. Steve and I went
into the kitchen and got special treatment from my mom. We really wanted
her fried chicken over any of the other ladies' and she was happy to
oblige. First, however, she hugged Steve harder and longer than even I'd
done. She was grinning and patting his cheeks, almost giddy with joy over
his release. He'd wormed his way into Mom's heart from the first day of
Christmas break when he came home with me.

We sat at a table by ourselves to eat, which we knew wouldn't last long
because the line waiting for food was growing steadily. I watched Steve
bite into the juicy meat encased in Mom's lightly battered crust and savor
it deliberately. I snickered as I remembered coming home from jail to Mom's
good cooking.

"What?" he mumbled with his mouthful.

"You're making love to that drumstick," I answered.

"You know how long I've dreamed about getting some of your Mom's cooking
again?" he said.

"I understand. The bland glop in jail is nothing to write home about," I
agreed.

"You know it."

After we had eaten half our meal, I started a conversation. "You're
planning on staying at the ranch, I hope," I said.

"If you and your family will have me. I don't really have anywhere else to
go," he answered. Then he stopped eating and said a bit cautiously, "and
neither does Todd."

I smiled. "You know that both of you are welcome. We've talked about it and
Mom's got everything all planned out. You can both stay as long as you need
to. There's some after harvest work to be done and with Dad's business
taking off, there's more work than we can all do. So if you want a job,
you've got one."

"I'll do anything, of course. And so will Todd. We are really grateful. But
we don't need or want any pay.  Room and board is more than enough until we
can figure something else out," Steve said.

"Okay. Well, good luck with that one. You can take that up with Dad."

We both laughed knowing it would never happen. He'd never let them work
without paying them something.

"I never dreamed this could be possible. I thought I would have to wait
three long years to be reunited. I am so happy, Steve. I just can't believe
what a miracle this all is."

"It is a miracle. Want to hear another miracle?" he asked.

"Sure. Can it get any better?" I said.

"I want to go to church with you. I did some studying in Yankton and met
with the prison pastor. He was a great man and really helped me get a
different view of life and develop some faith."

"Well knock me over with a turkey feather," I said. "Really?"

"Really."

I got up, walked over to him and hugged him again. "Welcome to the land of
hope and promise," I told him. "That makes me love you all the more, if
that were even possible." He smiled. It pleased him that I was pleased, I
could see it in his eyes.

I felt someone's eyes on me and I looked up to see Colt staring at us. I
wondered what he was thinking.  When he saw I'd caught him staring, he
turned away.

"So," I started. Then I hesitated. Finally, I asked the big question, "How
are you feeling about us?"

"As a couple?" he clarified.

"Yeah. As a couple."

"Good. Why? How are you feeling about us?" Steve turned it back onto me.

"I love you with my whole heart. I kind of want to make sure you feel the
same about me, though. I wasn't real sure how to interpret some of the
things you wrote in your letter to me," I told him.

"Things like what exactly?" Steve asked.

"I don't know exactly how you said it, but basically that we should take it
slow and how we're different people with different backgrounds and if I
found someone else you would be okay with it."

Steve looked at me for few minutes without speaking. The silence hung heavy
over the table as all of the outside commotion faded from my
consciousness. It was suddenly just me and Steve in the room and I was
waiting for the most important thing I was ever going to hear someone say
to me. Time stood still.  "I didn't write any of that because I have doubts
about my love for you. I love all of what I know about you. I absolutely
know that you love me wholeheartedly, because you have proven that over and
over by your actions. Knowing I am really loved by you is a big part of why
I can love you back. I spent my whole childhood denying the need to be
loved. I spent my whole childhood with a padlock on my heart so that no one
could sneak in and break it. Everyone who had ever shown me any sign of
love, ended up having other motives. They only wanted something back from
me in exchange. Love, true love, cannot be bought. True love can only be
given - no strings attached."

"I don't pretend to understand that," I said. "I was loved by my family. I
was cared for and even coddled.  I was teased and bullied but never
abused. I kept my heart locked up for different reasons. I never let others
in because it always backfired when I tried. I was worried that as soon as
they got to know me, they'd realize what a loser I was. It was just so much
better to be as invisible as possible. But you showed me I was worth
loving. You showed me I really was loved by my family and had been loved
all along."

"So, I guess that's my point in writing what I wrote in my letter," Steve
explained. "We both love each other. I love you for loving me. You love me
for loving you. Before we can be sure that we will be happy loving each
other for a lifetime, we have to make sure we can love ourselves for
ourselves. I think we need time for that. We're pretty young still. Agree
or disagree?"

I thought it over. "Agree. I see what you're saying."

"We both have some baggage, Shane. We can help each other unload it, but we
need to be sure the baggage is gone before we make any long term
commitments. The last thing I want is to hurt you or have you hurt me."

That was not what I wanted to hear, but it was true. I thought about how
irritated I was with him back in the dorms because he wouldn't share his
past with me. I realized he was just as irritated with me because I was so
demanding of what he so carefully kept locked away. "Okay. How do we do
this then?"

"I think we just need to take some time. Let it develop naturally. If it's
right for both of us, it will happen.  If it's not right, it's better for
both of us that it doesn't happen. I want it to happen. Don't get me wrong.
I just need the time and incubation period to be sure it's safe to unlock
my heart and throw away the padlock."

"Okay. But how do we do that? How do make sure?"

"I'll find a job here in Kalispell. I'll get a place to live and we can
date. Assuming that goes well, we can move in together next summer
maybe. If that goes well, we can make it official. A Christmastime wedding
would be awesome. What do you think of that?"

"I like it. What about sex?"

"What about it?" he asked back.

"Can we have it?"

"Why wouldn't we?" he asked.

"I don't know. I wasn't sure how that played into what you were saying. I
thought maybe you were saying that we should date platonically."

"No. I think you and I have really different ideas about the sex
thing. Remember when I offered up my ass to your brother, Billy?"

"Yeah.  I remember it well. It bothered me a lot."

"I know it did. I don't have the emotional attachment to sex that you
have. So to me, it was just a service to be performed to prevent Billy from
forcing something on his girlfriend. You grew up in a household that values
sexual expression within bounds of a commitment like marriage. I grew up in
a world where it was traded for favors or sometimes given up as a means of
survival. I could either bend over and get fucked or stand up and get
fucked up. I learned to choose the fucking. It usually hurt less. I
occasionally did it just for fun, but never, ever as an expression of
love. Until, that is, I made love to you for that first time in the ranch
cabin. That was the first time where raw emotion mixed into it. I wasn't
expecting that.  It changed me. I crave that kind of lovemaking now, but
sex is still just a physical act, like scratching a mosquito bite. So not
only do I think it's okay for us to engage in sex during this trial period,
I think it's essential that we make love to each other."

"Wow. I need to process all that. I guess that's why you were so nonchalant
over it when I admitted letting Whittaker fuck me when we switched dorm
rooms back at MSU."

"Pretty much. I could separate the two things. Sex was sex, but if you and
Whittaker had made love, that would have bothered me," Steve said.

"So have you and Todd been doing it together in prison?" I asked. I
regretted going there as quickly as the words escaped my lips.

Steve swallowed his last bite of apple pie and wiped the crumbs from his
lips before answering. He looked me squarely and purposefully in the
eye. "We never made love in prison. We did scratch a few mosquito bites."
He stared deep into my eyes for a clue to my reaction. If he was expecting
shock or horror, he was disappointed. I'd already suspected it. I was
actually pleased with how he answered it.

"We spray for mosquitos out on the ranch. The ones that survive, we swat,"
I said. He burst out laughing. He fell onto the table and held his
stomach. That made me laugh and we attracted attention.

"C'mon, I said. This turkey needs to get back to work so Whittaker can take
a lunch break."

Walking back to the carnival games, I told Steve, "So Mom and Dad were both
at my trial as you know.  They heard some crazy stuff about me that I wish
they hadn't. They know all about how sexually active I've been since
meeting you and like you said, my household has certain ideas about having
sex before making a commitment."

"Right," he said.

"So Mom has a sleeping arrangement all figured out while you and Todd are
staying with us. We were counting on Todd staying. She's got you bunking
with Billy in his room and Todd staying in Whittaker's cabin room. I'm
still by myself in my room. When all the family comes for the holidays, all
us boys sleep in the barn or the attic."

"See there. That's exactly what I mean. I love your mom. She's just
awesome," Steve told me.

"She's totally awesome and very predictable." Then I added, "And by the
way, just in case Billy gets any mosquito bites on his ass while you're
sharing his room, he can scratch them all by himself." Steve snickered and
punched me playfully in the turkey wing.

We relieved Whittaker on the basketball toss game and Colt and his friend,
Scott, went with Whittaker to get something to eat. Colt was still awkward
around me and I understood that. I was just glad he'd come and especially
glad to see he and Scott were back doing things together. I wanted to ask
about his father, but knew better. It was just personal curiosity and not
really any of my business.

Steve and I were handling the basketball game when a female voice called
out, "Steve?!?!"

Steve turned and responded, just as surprised as she was, "Cheyenne?"

In unison, they both said, "What are you doing here?"

Cheyenne added, "I thought you were in prison."

"I got pardoned. I'm a free man now, so I'm here staying at Shane's for a
little while I get back on my feet. What brings you here?"

"I'm living here. I got a job at the hospital. Pastor Nichols helped me get
on in the kitchen," she answered.

"That's great," Steve answered. "I never knew what happened to you. You
just disappeared and no one could tell me why or where you went. I hope it
wasn't because you'd sneak me extra pieces of pizza and dessert."

She smiled. "No, it wasn't that. Something just happened and Simba made me
leave."

"Oh. Him. The two faced asshole."

"Yeah. You know how it was. I'm so excited to see you and know you're out
of prison. That's a miracle!"  she said.

"It sure is. I didn't use to believe in miracles until I met this guy."
Steve wrapped his arm around me and gave me a hug.

"Hi Shane," Cheyenne said, recognizing for the first time that I was even
there.

"Hi," I answered back. I couldn't get over how much nicer she looked from
the time I first met her outside the church. Her whole demeanor was
brighter and she wore decent, clean clothes.

"You guys know each other?" Steve asked.

"We met at church," I explained.

"Oh, cool. Is that the church we'll be attending together?" Steve asked me.

"Yeah. It is," I answered.

Then I turned to the small boy at Cheyenne's side. "You want to shoot for
the basket?" He looked down and shook his head sadly, side to side.

Cheyenne explained, "we used up all our tickets."

"Well, you don't need a ticket here. A friend of Steve's is a friend of
mine. C'mon, stand up here on the table and take some shots."

The boy looked up at his mommy hopefully and she nodded approval. He
beamed. I lifted him up onto the closest table to the hoop where we let the
small kids shoot from and handed him a basketball. He heaved it and
missed. I snagged the rebound and let him try again. On the third time, the
little guy banked it in. He clapped and cheered as I handed him a Tootsie
Roll. Steve gave him a high five.

"We'll have to catch up some time," Cheyenne said as she took her cheerful
little boy by the hand and led him away.

"Crazy coincidence," Steve said. "She used to work in the kitchen at the
boys home."

"I know. She told me that when I met her. She snagged me at church one day
and wanted to know all about you."

"She did? Huh," Steve said. More customers came up to our booth and we
stayed busy until we shut it down.

Colt's mom came to pick Colt and Scott up and she pulled me aside. "Thank
you for inviting Colt to be involved in this. I had a chance to talk to
Pastor Nichols earlier and I am interested in joining his congregation. We
need some religion in our lives and with the boys' father out of the house,
they need some solid male role models. I just wanted to make sure you'd be
okay if we attended. I don't want to make it awkward for you by having Colt
there."

"I don't mind at all. I really have no bad feelings for Colt. I always knew
in my heart that he was not the one behind it. I knew he wasn't
malicious. Thanks for asking, though."

"I'm glad. Thank you so much. You are really a wonderful person, Shane. I
hope everything works out for you in the future."

"You're kind. Thanks. So, forgive me for prying, but are you divorcing?"

"Not yet. I don't know if it will end up like that or not. I just needed
space to sort things out so Brahma moved out to live with his mother. You
can imagine, it was a pretty big shock finding out about my husband's
secret life with the Reverend. I don't know if I can ever trust him again,
but I didn't want to do anything rash. Divorce is tough on kids. He lost
his job and he's pretty depressed but I have to think about me and the boys
first and foremost," she confided in me. She added parenthetically, "Colt's
struggling."

Things wrapped up around two o'clock and we started taking the booths
down. I regretted not having brought a change of clothes from
home. Whittaker had been sensible enough to do that and changed out of his
costume. I was stuck in mine. We were unbolting the plywood game booths so
we could store and save them for another event, when Whittaker came over
and took the wrench from me. "You're going to ruin that costume, dude. We
can handle this. You and Steve go and catch up on things. I'm sure you're
anxious to. I bet Steve would love a banana milkshake from the diner."
Whittaker grinned and winked at me. I smiled back. He was so thoughtful.

"Okay. But how will you get home if we take the truck?"

"I'll catch a ride, or I can get a ride with Shawna if I need to."
Whittaker made a shooing motion at us.

I grabbed my rubber feet and turkey hood. "Crap," I moaned, "I don't have a
change of clothes."

"It's okay," Steve said, "I don't mind hanging out with a turkey. A little
turkey stuffing might go really good with that banana milkshake."

Whittaker cracked up. I had to laugh along. "Shoo," Whittaker said. "Go
spend some time together. You need to. Call if you're going to be home for
dinner so I can let your mom know."

We thanked him and practically skipped out of the room. I was wishing Steve
could drive. I felt ridiculous behind the wheel dressed as a turkey. We
talked about Steve's experiences in prison at Yankton. It was really not a
bad place at all. In many ways, it was one of the nicer places he'd lived
in. Not counting the time with me in the dorm. But even then, Steve was on
edge and under probation. Steve said it had been so completely refreshing
to be in a place where he was safe, fed, able to pursue some studies and
not have the sex ring hanging over his head. He said it was even more
unbelievable to him to realize that he was now completely free and able to
be with me again. It was as if he'd been reborn.

"That's the diner with the good milkshakes. Across the street is a motel
that rents rooms by the hour.  Billy and Jaime have a standing weekly
appointment there."

Steve laughed. "I'm not that hungry, but I wouldn't be opposed to a little
shake action at the motel, if you want to."

"Want to? Want to? Have you ever known me to not want to?" I asked.

"Nope. I don't believe I have," he answered, smiling. I careened left into
the motel lot and strutted in to rent a room for an hour. Steve followed me
in.

The clerk looked me up and down twice. "Kinky," he said. Steve turned away
and shook with laughter. I turned red.

"I need two forms of ID. It's twenty bucks for one hour and thirty for two
hours."

I fished thirty dollars from my wallet and gave him my driver's license and
MSU ID card.

"Oh my god, it's you!" the guy exclaimed. He handed me the money back and I
sighed.

"Here it comes," I thought. I expected to hear, "We don't allow your kind
in here," or something like that.

Instead he said, "This one's on the house. Ever since it got out that the
sheriff and the preacher guy were doing it here, our hourly rentals have
quadrupled."

"Really? Wow. Who would have thought. I guess it's true that there's no
such thing as bad publicity." I stuffed the money back in my wallet and
waddled out. I'd put my rubber feet back on so I wouldn't have to walk
barefoot in the parking lot and in the office.

"Happy hunting," the guy called out to us as we left the office with the
key to room 128. I stopped and bought two bottled waters from the vending
machine. Steve went and found the ice machine and we iced our waters for
later. When we were settled in and the covers on the bed were pulled down
and washcloths were laid out on the night stand along with the
complimentary bottle of body lotion, Steve took my cheeks in his hands and
pressed his lips to mine. I melted into his hot, sensuous lips.

"Let's get naked, lover," I whispered against his lips.

"Not yet," he responded. "I want to suck on your giblets first. When will I
ever get a chance to suck off a turkey again?"

"Stop," I said, laughing at him.

"No, I'm serious. I'm turned on by the idea of sucking your dick while
you're dressed like this."

"You're a freak," I said.

"Probably. How do I get to the good parts?" he asked.

I pulled open the Velcro fly under my turkey belly and Steve reached in and
fished out my erection. It was no easy task and I cried out as my sensitive
head scraped over the Velcro snags.

"Sorry," Steve apologized. Then he sat me on the edge of the bed and
started fondling my bulging erection. He was turning it side to side and
staring hungrily at it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Just remembering. I want to remember every little detail of this. I want
the image of your beautiful manhood preserved in my memory."

I smiled. "Are you anxious for this?" He asked, licking slowly up my shaft
and around my glans.

"Gobble, gobble, gobble," I answered, gripping his head with my wings.

He chuckled and said. "I love you. You make me laugh like no one else can."
He began sucking my dick, slowly sliding up and down along my juicy
drumstick. He swirled his tongue over the glans and then plunged down the
length of the shaft. He could only go two thirds of the way down it because
of the turkey suit, but he had me moaning and slowly pressing myself into
his mouth in rhythm. My eyes were now shut while he sucked my turkey
bone. I ran my fingers over his buzzed, prison haircut and my floppy brown
wings draped over his face. I shuddered and he froze.

"Are you cumming already?" he asked.

"No," I answered. "Just enjoying it. It feels so good."

"Mmmm, nice," he answered and returned to consuming me. After another four
or five minutes of his rhythmic bobbing, he pulled off and climbed up to
kiss me. We swapped tongues and then battled for supremacy as we embroiled
ourselves into a frenzied stew of raw sexual lust. Juices dripped from the
corners of our mouths and dripped down our chin. I pulled his t-shirt off
his upper torso and was grasping at his broiling flesh by the fistful.

He found my zipper and pulled it down across my backbone. Then he plucked
the turkey suit off of me and slid quickly downward to remove my rubber
feet. Lastly, he peeled my boxers away and left me naked, quivering with
anticipation. My anus was twitching with desire. "Fuck me," I begged.

"Not yet," Steve answered. "Suck me first."

He climbed up onto the bed and I moved around to peel his jeans from his
hips and quickly stripped away his underwear. His dick was bulging and
begging for my hungry mouth. I crawled between his thighs and knelt into
place. I grasped his hot, thick piece of meat and swallowed it clear to the
base. I held it there and savored the taste, the sensation, and the
closeness I felt to my lover, my Christmas Steve. It was as special as our
first time and maybe even sweeter. I wasn't so nervous and unsure of
myself. I was more an equal participant and I felt like he appreciated
that. I made sweet love to his delicious penis. I knew I would soon have
this sweet wishbone buried deep within me like I'd been craving for so very
long. I nearly cried when I realized I was actually doing what I'd expected
to have to wait three long years to experience again. A warm rush of
peaceful joy washed over me, adding to the beauty of the experience.

I used my tongue to drag slowly along his terse shaft, pressing my lips
tightly around the rim of his tender head before gliding back down over the
pulsating pole. I don't know how long I pleasured my lover like that,
relentlessly driving him ever closer to the edge. Time had no meaning. The
world outside that room, that bed, did not exist for us. I rubbed my hands
over his chest and played with his protruding nipples as I sucked on him. I
occasionally stopped while I had him fully engulfed and breathed in his
lightly musky odor, my nose buried in his soft, brown pubes.

My dick was aching and my anus was itching by the time he lifted his head
and watched me orally caress his rigid shaft two more times. He lifted my
chin and pulled me free. His erection was so firm, it scarcely moved as I
released it. "It's time," he said.

I knew what he meant and smiled up at him. I crawled over his right thigh
and rolled onto my back next to him. He rose and slid between my legs. He
pulled my knees up and spread them. He reached for the bottle of lotion and
squeezed a copious amount into his palm. He coated his purple shaft and
then greased up my chute. I was shaking with excitement. I thought my penis
might just explode from the anticipation of it all, I was boned so hard.

Steve added a squirt of lotion to my dick and also to his abdomen. Then he
pressed his purple tip to my entryway and pushed himself in. "Ahhhh," I
called out. "Yes, yes, yes."

"Mmmmm," he moaned. "Feels so good." Slowly, he pushed himself into me
until he was buried as deeply as he could go. He held it there and stared
lovingly into my eyes. His eyes were moist and glittering in the faint
light of the hotel lamp at our bedside. He lowered himself down onto his
forearms where he supported most of his weight, but allowed his body to
press mildly into mine. He dropped his head until our lips met and we
kissed. My mind numbed, my body tingled and then it began.

"Oh, yes," I murmured against his soft lips as he dragged his wishbone back
out, across my magic spot and then slowly returned it deep into me. Each
time he withdrew, I murmured over and over, "Oh, yes."

"I love you, Shane," he whispered into my ear. His warm breath seeped into
me and filled my heart with the knowledge that it was true. I started to
cry for joy and gratitude. Of all the miracles I had seen, this was the
greatest one of all. He loved me.

He made eye contact and set his jaw. His brow furrowed in that unique
way. That unique look that was his and his alone. That look tipped me off
to what he was about to do. I knew it was coming. I knew he was at the
limit of his stamina. It was time for Christmas Steve to cum and when he
did, he went big.  Like a bull rider in a rodeo, he rode me, grunting and
groaning. He pounded and slammed me as I feverishly bucked and
bounced. Bull and rider pounding it out in a furious dance of wills. The
friction of his abs against my bulging rod as he took his eight second
ride, drove me over the edge. "CUM Shaney, CUM!" I yelled out as my white
hot, boiling gravy basted our sweating flesh.

"Yessss!" Steve cried out as he shoved himself as deeply into me as
possible. With gritted teeth, he groaned in bull-like fury, draining his
balls of his cum. He pulled halfway out nice and slow, and then urgently
slammed himself deeply back in for a second eruption and then a third and a
fourth. At length, he collapsed onto me and heaved to fill his oxygen
starved lungs. I was blissfully floating about the room somewhere,
oblivious to my own existence, just lost in the buzz of an amazing orgasm.

It was the first time we'd done it raw. Steve informed me that he and Todd
had tested negative when they had their full physicals at Yankton. I knew I
was clean as well. I was deliriously happy. Steve was smiling broadly as he
slipped slowly free of my grasp on him. He leaned up and looked lovingly
into my eyes. "How was it?" I asked.

"Best turkey I ever stuffed," he quipped.

"Gobble, gobble, gobble," I said.

He smiled and scraped two fingers across my abs, collecting a sampling of
my slippery cum. He placed them in his mouth and tasted my juices. "Mmmm,"
he said. "Finger licking good!" That made us both start giggling. We hugged
and pressed ourselves together, kissing and nibbling on each other for
another ten minutes before getting up to shower.

I loved sharing the warm shower with him, soaping and caressing his tight
body. After rinsing, we just wrapped ourselves into a tight bundle and held
each other as the warm water flowed over us. Both of us were just content
to hold each other forever. Sadly, though, our hour was up.

We dried off, left a five dollar tip on the pillow for the maid, which was
Steve's thoughtful idea, and dressed. Steve helped me back into my turkey
suit and I pulled on my rubber feet. Then we made our way home. It was dusk
as we arrived and ordered to get cleaned up for dinner. Mom had a nice
Sunday spread prepared. I was still full from lunch, but I wasn't about to
turn down Mom's cooking. Steve had an insatiable appetite and was excited
for the meatloaf and brown gravy that Mom was putting on the table.

Everyone was there, Whittaker, Whittaker's mom, Todd, Billy, and even
Jaime. Dad, of course, and to my surprise, Reverend Nichols and Shawna. The
food was good and Steve devoured his meatloaf and a mountain of mashed
potatoes. Conversation centered around the successful fundraiser we'd put
on and how well we had done. Reverend Nichols was very pleased and when he
offered grace before the meal, he thanked the Lord for the many miracles we
had all received. Steve and I exchanged joyful glances as we ate. I let my
leg slide over and press against his. He reached under the table and gave
my leg a small squeeze.

I caught Whittaker stealing glances at us throughout dinner. We talked some
about the business and Whittaker became very animated as he described how
far we'd exceeded our goals. I was happy to see him so happy in the
success. His mom praised him and he glowed as she did. Shawna looked at him
proudly also and asked many questions.

Afterwards, we said our goodbyes and sorted out the sleeping
arrangements. Todd thanked my parents over and over again for letting him
stay with us until he could get on his feet. He was also extremely
appreciative of the opportunity to work on the ranch. Steve moved into
Billy's room and Todd moved in with Whittaker. When we were all back in the
family room sipping on coffee, the conversation turned to church and
God. Whittaker and Steve both talked about how they had come to accept and
believe that there was in fact a God. They had many questions about God and
the workings of faith still, but they had seen enough and felt enough
stirring within them, to begin to believe.

"I have questions about a lot of things as well," I said. "But most of the
questions, I expect are just too hard for me to comprehend in this life. I
think of it as not having the proper perspective to understand
everything. Once you climb a mountain and can see things from that
viewpoint, you see things that you would ne ver have understood otherwise
from the view in the valley."

"I suppose that's right," Whittaker agreed. Steve nodded.

"It's like that Bette Midler song Mom loves so much," I added. "Part of the
lyrics go, 'From a distance there is harmony. And it echoes through the
land. It's the voice of hope; it's the voice of peace; it's the voice of
every man'."

"That's one of the songs in that guitar lesson book," Steve said. He pulled
out the guitar we'd given him and I'd saved from the dorm room and he
started strumming at it. We gathered around and sung the song together as
he strummed the basic chords to it.

####***####

I have lost contact with my long time friend and editor, Paul Stevens. I am
concerned about him. I'm hopeful that he is just having computer problems
and not health issues. If anyone knows anything about his status, please
let me know. He has had a tremendous impact on improving this story and is
a very Prolific Author on Nifty as well. I pray he is doing okay.

Another reader, IJK in California, has graciously assisted me with the
editing since Paul's disappearance.  I thank him for his kind assistance.

Shane's world is getting sorted out. People are starting to find their way,
but the holidays are yet to come, especially Christmas. A story that begins
at Christmas, should end at Christmas. Don't you think? More to come and a
twist or two left in Santa's bag.

Hans

h.schreiber@hushmail.com