Cold Hand of Fate

By John Yager

The following story is a work of gay erotic fiction depicting sexual acts between consenting adults.   If such stories are not to your liking or if you are not of legal age to read such stores in your jurisdiction, please exit now.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives or any specific person or persons.   Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental.

This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without specific written permission from the author.   It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.


Buck knew the road well, at least he thought he did.  He'd been driving this route for five years now, since he signed on with  Steven's the summer after he graduated from high school.  But in this fog nothing looked right.  The landmarks he could see seemed to be in the wrong place or in the wrong order.

The fog was closing in fast, a cold, wet fog which had come out of nowhere.  He'd turned on his headlights three miles back but now they just glared back at him, bouncing off the gray wall of fog which seemed to stand like a concrete barrier just beyond the hood of the truck.

Buck eased the truck onto the shoulder, feeling his way, praying he'd not run the rig into a ditch.  He was in pine woods here, he knew.  The shoulders should be flat and even, but nothing was like it should be,  so why should the road be the way he remembered it?

His luck held.  He got the truck off the road and onto a firm stretch of hard packed earth, not a graveled shoulder, but it would do.  Not much traffic along here on a good day, so he figured he didn't have to worry about some idiot running into the truck.  The reflectors should be enough warning for any poor soul still out on the road, so he turned off the running lights to save the battery.  Nothing to do now but wait.  He reached behind the seat and pulled out the old blanket he kept  there, swung his feet up onto the far side of the bench seat and bundled himself against the growing cold.   He'd turned off the engine;  he might be there all night.  It was getting cold and he was hungry and tired and horny, too, not that there was much he wanted to do about it.  Even if he got home tonight, there was nobody waiting for him.

Time passed and Buck figured he must have slept, dozed anyway.  When he opened his eyes it was dark as hell and there was a thumping he couldn't figure out for a while, till he came to enough to realize some one was knocking on the window of the cab, the side away from the road, just above were his feet were wrapped in the old blanket, but cold anyway in the damp night air.

"Hey, fellow, you okay in there?"  A face appeared in the blurred glow of a lantern.

"Yeah, just pulled off to get out of the fog,"  Buck responded to the stranger's voice.  He sat up and felt the blanket slide off his legs onto the floor.  He scooted across the wide seat and pulled up the lock button on the far door, then raised the handle and felt the door swing open with more force then he'd expected.  Was he on a bit of a slope, he wondered, fearing the door had hit the guy who'd been standing there.

"Shit, didn't mean to knock you down."

"I'm okay.   You must be freezing out here."

"Yeah, damned cold and getting colder, I guess."

Sliding out of the cab, Buck saw it was a guy about his own age, maybe a year or two younger, good looking, from what he could see of him, bundled in a parka with its hood up over his head.

"I thought I heard your breaks about an hour ago.  I was getting the cows in or I'd a looked for you sooner."

"You live near here?"

"Yep,  about half a mile.   Once I got the beasts in the barn I sat out looking for you.  Took me a while, though.  Fog's getting real thick."

"You telling me.  I couldn't even see the road."

"Look, my lane's just up there about fifty yards.  Let me walk along in front of you with the lantern so you can see where you are.  Pull off the road so your  truck doesn't get rammed by somebody trying to make it home in this soup and then you can come on to my place and warm up."

"Great.  You don't mind?"

"Nah, glad to have company."

"You got a phone?"

"Yeah,  you're welcome to use it."

"I guess I should call the dispatcher and let her know I'm not gona make it in tonight."

"Sure.  Well, come on then."

Buck climbed back in and hauled the door shut, slid across the cab and started the big engine.  His guide held the lantern high so he could see if over the hood of the truck and slowly, just creeping forward in first gear, they inched the truck along the invisible road.  Buck couldn't see a thing but when the guy motioned toward the right, he figured they were at the lane, and pulled in following the lantern.  They went a good hundred feet off the road before the guy waved and came around to Buck's side of the cab.

"She should be fine here,"  he said.  "Just lock her up and we'll get out of this mess."

Buck sat the breaks, grabbed the little bag he always traveled with, took the blanket, just in case he needed it, locked the truck and climbed down from the cab into the chilled, wet air.  Immediately he felt cold beads of damp forming on his face and hair.

"Let's get in,"  his companion said and they started off down the lane.   They'd walked for several minutes and Buck hadn't seen anything but the other guy's form in the lantern light.  Then rounding a slight bend in the lane, he made out a glow through the dense fog and then the form of a cabin or small house on what looked like the far side of a clearing.  a welcoming light shown through its windows. The dark forms of tall pines surrounded them, or at least Buck thought they must be pines, dark shadows in the increasing gloom.

They walked up onto a wide porch and Buck's host opened a plank door, leading into the cheerful interior of his modest home.   Buck did a quick look around at the cheerful room. A fireplace stood in the center of the back wall and in it a low, well banked fire was glowing.  The room was warm and smelled of pine smoke and other good things.   A small kitchen was off to the right.  There was the welcome scent of a rich stew wafting through the warm air and maybe, just maybe, the fragrance of fresh baked bread.

"You can hang your jacket there,"  the guy said to Buck, pointing to some wood pegs in the wall to the left of the door.   "My name's Stacey, by the way, most folks just call me Stac."


"Hi, Buck, welcome.  I got a pot of catchall cooking.  Let me give it a stir."  He started off  toward the little kitchen area and then looked back,  "oh, you wanting a wash, just go on out that door there,"  Stac added, pointing to a door in the back wall to the left of the fireplace.

Buck went through the door Stac had indicated and was somewhat surprised to find himself in a small but cozy bedroom.  A big old four-poster occupied the center of the room and to the left another door led into a well equipped bathroom.  Buck had really expected an outdoor privy and found the modern conveniences a very pleasant surprise.   Once he'd used the toilet and washed up a little, he went back to find Stac and see if there was anything he could do to help.

"Nah, nothing to do but let her simmer.   We can eat anytime you want."

"This is really nice of you."

"No problem.  I'm glad to have company on a night like this."  He gave the stew a final stir and then added,  "look, Buck, you're not going anywhere tonight.   It isn't fancy, but you're welcome to stay over here."

"Man, I'm really putting you out."

"It's no problem, really."

"How about that phone?"

"Sure.   You're standing by it."

Buck turned to see the instrument mounted on the wall just by the end of the kitchen counter.

"There's another one in the bedroom if you want some privacy."

"No, this is fine,"  Buck said, picked up the receiver and punched in the numbers.   He waited for four rings at the other end and then the recorded voice.

"This is the office of Steven's and Company.   Our office is closed but will be open tomorrow from eight AM until six PM.   If you wish to leave a message, please wait for the tone."

Buck waited while the machine beeped several times.  Other drivers were having trouble getting in, he figured, and had left messages saying where they were.   After about six or seven short beeps there was the expected longer tone and  then silence.   "Hi, Mary, this is Buck.  I guess you got a lot of your boys out tonight.   I'm out on Route 120."  He pause and asked Stac,  "how far out of town are we?"

"Twenty-seven miles."

"Twenty-seven miles, toward Banning," Buck added.  "The number here is 774-6492,"  he read from the paper plate on the face of the phone.   "I'll call you in the morning if this fog's too thick for me to get back on the road.  Ah, well, thanks."

"Nobody else you need to call?"

"Nah, just Mary.  She's the dispatcher.  Keep her happy, everything else takes care of itself."

"Well, you're welcome to make more calls if you need to."

"Nobody else to call."

"Well, okay then.  You want to try some of this stew or have a beer and wait a little?"

"Oh, man, a beer sounds great.  But actually, I'd be glad to eat now.  I kind of realized, smelling that stew, I'm more or less starved."

"Okay, great.  Grab a couple from the frig and I'll serve up a couple of bowls of stew."

"We eating at the table?"

"Yeah.  That okay?"

"Great,"  Buck said, taking two bottles of dark ale for the frig.   "You buy good beer."

"Yeah, can't stand that anemic stuff they pass off as lager."

Stac put two big, brimming bowls on the hot stew on the table, and sure enough, a golden brown loaf of newly baked bread.

"You make that?"


"Man, you gona make somebody a great wife,"  Buck said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, that's what my dad always said.  I figured if you don't have a woman around, learn to do it yourself."

"Your dad live here?"

"Did.   Died three years ago.  Now I'm on my own."

"So you're farming this place."

"Yeah, more or less.   There's over a thousand acres but most of it's in pine.   I contract it out in forty acre plots and don't have to do much but keep the books.  The lumber companies come in and down the mature trees and then plant a new batch.  Eight to twelve years later they come back to do it all again."

"Didn't see any cutting along the highway or on the way back in here.   I guess I wouldn't have, though, with the fog."

"No, not in this weather, but they don't cut here, not allowed.   The hundred twenty acres around this place and the strips along the highway is all in a state planning zone."

"But you keep some cows."

"Yep, four right now.  I may buy two more heifer in the spring but six is plenty."   Stac cut the bread as he talked and passed a plate of thick slices across to Buck.  "That's homemade butter in the crock.  Help yourself."

"Man, you do all this?"

"Yeah, plenty of spare time and I enjoy it."

"A little farming, a lot of cooking.  Sounds like you stay pretty busy to me."

Stac laughed.  "Well, that's all in my spare time.  Actually, I'm a writer.  That takes most of my days and a lot of my nights."

"No shit!"

"No shit,"  Stac grinned as he spread a thin layer of the rich butter over a slice of the warm bread.  "What about you, Buck, you driving that rig full time?"

"Yeah, five years now."

"And living alone?"

"Now I am.   I had a girlfriend when I graduated from high school.   We wanted to live together and I needed to make a living on my own real quick.  That's why I took this job."

"She's gone now?"

"Yep, lasted almost two years.  Then she decided she didn't like being alone so much with me on the road three or four nights at a time.  She'd started something with a guy next door, but I didn't know that for a year after we broke up.  They're married now and have a kid."  As he spoke, Buck realized how warm it was in the little cabin.

"Tough," Stac said.


"Tough having her leave like that."

"Oh, yeah, kind of, but I'm doing okay now."

"Not seeing anybody else?"

"No,"  Buck said, looking over at Stac as he said it.

"What about you?"

"Nobody.  Never has been anybody real serious."

"Must get kind of lonely out here."

"Sometimes, but I kind of like being alone, most of the time, anyway.   I need the solitude to get my writing done."

"Yeah, I guess."

"You want more stew?"

"Yeah, maybe a little.  Not a full bowl though."

"If I'd known I was having company I'd have made dessert.  There's some wild blackberry jam, though.  It goes good on the bread and I can make a pot of coffee."

"Oh, man, that sounds great.  But don't give me much more stew then."

"I'm gona have another beer.  Can I get you another one?"

"Let me get the beer.  You deal with the stew."

Outside the wind had picked up a little, not really blowing hard, but moving the trees a little, making them moan.   As he went to the kitchen Stac put another log on the fire, which caused a shower of sparks and then a sudden spate of sharp cracks.

"Sorry if it seems a little warm in here but I like to build up a good bed of coals to last through the night."

"No problem.  I think I'll get out of this flannel shirt, though."

"Yeah, I usually get down to a T-shirt."

Both men began to unbutton their heavy shirts, pulling the shirttails out of the waistband of their jeans.   They stood four of five feet apart, across the little table, their eyes locked on one another.

Buck had to admit he liked what he saw.   Stac was obviously in great shape.  His white T-shirt clung to his well defined chest, rippling over the ridges and valleys of his abs.   The tight sleeves were stretched over the hard muscles of his upper arms.  Yeah, all told Stac was a great looking guy.  "My height,"  Buck thought,  "or close enough.  Lighter hair, though, almost blond.  I probably out weigh him by ten pounds."

What was going on, Buck wondered.  He wasn't exactly in the habit of checking out other guys, but here, in the warm coziness of Stac's little cabin, he couldn't take his eyes off the guy.   He found himself moving his eyes over Stac like he would have checked out a really hot chick.   "Yeah,"  Buck thought, giving into the impulse to look Stac over, "the guy has great legs, too." They were strong, muscular, stretching the faded blue denim of his well warn jeans.   Buck looked openly at Stac's crotch.  The jeans there looked stretched and full.   "I wonder what he looks like naked,"  Buck caught himself thinking.   Maybe he should stop himself, stop this open appraisal of the other guy.  "But why," Buck thought, "Stac seems to be looking me over, too."

And he was right.  Stac was clearly giving Buck's hard body an equally careful appraisal.  He too liked what he saw.   "I like his hair, brown, streaked with gold, maybe a little red.   Hard body, great chest.   Yep, the whole package is fine, just fine."

"So you're okay with coffee?"

"Yeah, I'd love some, once I get this beer down."

"Take your time, it'll take a while.  I hope you like it black."

"Black is good,"  Buck said as he followed Stac into the little kitchen.

"I guess I could run out and milk a cow if you'd like a little cream."

"No, I like it black."

"You don't like cream?"

"Um, don't know.  Never tried it.  I do like some sugar, though."

"Oh, I've got sugar.   You might like cream if you tired it."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"So shall I go milk a cow?"  Stac said, grinning back over his shoulder.

Buck stood just behind him, leaning back against the opposite cabinet.  It was a small kitchen and they almost touched.  "No.  It's too cold out there."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Buck reached out and put his hand on Stac's muscular shoulder.  "You feel warm, though."


"Yeah, cozy."  Buck hand roamed over Stac's shoulder.  He ran a finger under the elastic band at the T-shirt's neck, feeling the silky skin beneath.

"Um, that feels great."


"Yeah.  Don't stop.  Just let me get this coffee going."  He poured water into the machine, then turned, facing Buck in the process.  Buck's hand still rested on Stac's shoulder, linking them.

"What's going on here, Stac?"

"I'm not sure, but I kind of like it."

"Me, too."

Buck's left hand still rested on Stac's shoulder and Stac now reciprocated, placing his hands on both of Buck's upper arms, squeezing the hard muscles through the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

"Um, nice."


They moved into a loose embrace.  Their bodies pressed together with some apprehension, neither of them sure if the other guy would be comfortable with this.  There were no complaints.

Buck pulled back a little and looked into Stac's face.  His eyes were green.  Buck hadn't noticed that before.   "You like men, Stac?"

"Yeah, I do.  What about you, Buck?"

"I don't know.  I never tried it."

"Well, like I said, you might like cream in your coffee."  His smile was infectious.

"I guess being open to new experiences is kind of cool."

"Well, you never know what you might like till you try it, Buck."

"Yeah, guess so."

They broke  slowly from their embrace, as hesitant to leave one another's arms as they had been hesitant to enter them.  Stac turned back to the cupboard and reached up for a jar of homemade jam.    He was  leaning a little away from Buck,  supporting his weight on the cupboard, and Buck couldn't help think what an attractive sight Stac was.  His hips were thrust back toward Buck, his shoulders forward and rounded,  the flickering light from the fire in the other room reflected in his hair, making the golden bits glisten like so many gems.

Buck reached out and put his hands on Stac's hips and felt the other man thrust back a little more, his jeans stretched toughs over the firm mounds of his buttocks.   Instinctively, without thinking, Buck moved his own hips forward until his crotch was pressed against the other man's rear.  Both of them uttered slow, deep  moans and Stac thrust back still more, increasing the pressure between them.

Buck's cock was hard, imprisoned in his tight jeans and bent down over his balls.  It wasn't going anywhere but it sure wanted to.  He pressed into Stac a little more, feeling the rhythm of the other guy's movements against him.  He reached around and grasped Stac's chest, his right  hand on his hard pectoral muscles, the left roaming lower with a will of its own, down, over the ridges of his stomach, then a little lower.

"Oh, man, I can't believe this," Buck moaned.

"Don't you dare stop, Buck,"  Stac hissed.

Buck let his left hand roam a little lower, not knowing what was permissible but wanting to run his hands over every inch of the other guy's body.  "That okay, Stac?"

"Oh, yeah."  Stac straightened up and leaned back against Buck, forcing him to brace himself against the opposite counter.  Stac let his own hands roam.  His left went up behind Buck's head, drawing his face down to Stac's left shoulder.  His right hand snaked down, behind Buck, grasping his ass, pulling him forward a little more, forcing Buck's cramped cock against his own cramped ass.

Buck let his left hand move lower, over the puling mound of Stac's crotch, then grasping the full, pulsing mound and holding it tightly, pressing, fondling.

"I want to fuck you, Stac,"  Buck moaned.


"Now, man.  I think I'm gona explode."

"Come on."

Stac broke from their entwined embrace and headed for the bedroom, moving fast.

There was a trail of clothes along the way, T-shirts together in one pile by the frig, shoes in a disorderly line from kitchen to living room.  By some sort of unspoken agreement, Stac headed for the right side of the bed, his usual spot, Buck for the left.  Setting on their respective sides of the big four-poster, they wrestled off socks and jeans.    Stac was naked now but when he got down to just boxers, Buck baulked.

"What the hell are we doing here, man?"

"Fucking, you said."

Buck turned around, throwing his left knee up onto the bed, and faced Stac.  "You know I never did this before."

"With another guy."

"Yeah, man, with a guy."

"Relax, I'll talk you through it."

"Oh, man, this scares the hell out of me."  Stac saw he was shaking.

"Come here, fellow, you'll be okay."

They both rolled up onto the bed, still on top of the covers, and Stac took Buck into his arms, pulling him into a close embrace, their chests pressed together.   Stac was naked but Buck still wore his boxers and Stac made no attempt to remove them.   Stac was erect and his hard prick prodded against the fabric of Buck's shorts.  Buck had lost his own erection but there was a wet spot in the paisley shorts where he had leaked abundantly during their kitchen secession.  His skin felt damp and cold.

"You're freezing, babe," Stac whispered.  Buck shivered against him.   "Got to get you up, okay?"

They rolled apart and stood on opposite sides of the bed.   Stac pulled down the heavy quilt and then two light blankets and a sheet.  The bedroom could get real cold at night and he liked the bed layered so he could cover himself with as much our as little as needed.

"Okay, Buck, while you're up, lose the boxers, okay?"

Buck looked a little uneasy with it, but he complied.

"Good. Now, lie down again and let me tuck us in."  As his guest moved onto the bed, Stac quickly looked him over.  Buck's body was hard, well muscled, that much had been clear even in T-shirt and jeans.  Now Stac saw that, like himself, he was smooth and still had the vestiges of a summer tan.  His cock had withered to nothing more than a nib, nestled in a patch of brown pubic hair.

Stac rolled onto the bed and pulled the sheet and the light blankets up over their naked bodies.  The bedroom wasn't really that cold and he figured he they'd warm up quick enough, once they made contact.

Again, Stac took the lead, putting his arms around Buck's muscular torso and pulling their bodies together.   Buck's body felt cold and clammy against his own, but that would change.

"Roll over on your back, okay?"

"Okay.  What are you gona do?"

"Don't worry, I'll just warming you up,"  Stac said as he rolled over onto Buck, stretching his body over him, pressing into his hard chest.  Instinctively, Buck spread his legs, giving Stac room.  Stac supported most of his weight on his own arms, lowering himself a little to increase contact.  Buck moaned as Stac pressed against him.  "Better?"

"Yeah,"  Buck whispered.

Stac nuzzled against Buck's neck, gently kissing him.   Neither guy had shaved since morning and Buck felt the stubble on Stac's chin and cheeks, a new sensation for him.   It ticked at first, but as Stac continued, Buck found he liked it.

They were both warming up, both appreciating the cozy warmth of the bed.  Without even realizing it, Buck brought his arms up around Stac, holding them together.  At the same time Buck's legs came up and wrapped around Stac's legs, locking them in an embrace from head to toe.

"Yeah," Buck whispered again, unbidden.

Stac began to move his hips, humping gently into Buck, feeling his own cock slide up and down the other man's crotch, through the bush of his pubic hair, feeling Buck's cock regain its erection.

"Oh, yeah, Stac,"  Buck moaned.

"You doing okay with this, Buck?"

"Yeah, loving it."

"Still feeling kind of weird?"

"I think it stopped feeling weird about five minutes ago.  Now it just feels fucking hot."

"How would you feel about me kissing you?"

"You mean on the mouth?"

"Yeah, on the mouth."

Buck was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't know, but let's try it."

Stac lowered his lips to Buck's, gently, soft, no pressure, lips relaxed but closed, not wanting to spook him.  Buck moaned.

Stac opened his lips just a bit and let his tongue sneak out to run gently over Buck's lips.  Buck moaned again and his own lips opened, just a little, in response.

Stac ran his tongue along the crack of Buck's lips, asking to come in.  Buck opened just a little more and the tip of his tongue met Stac's.  They were both moaning now.

Stac moved his hands behind Buck's head, running his fingers through his rich, light brown hair, lifting just a little, forcing Buck up into the kiss.  Stac was supporting himself on his elbows now, his full weight on Buck's body, pressing them together in a solid bond of muscle and hot male flesh.

Their moans were louder now, more insistent, more continuous, echoing the moans of the wind in the pines outside.

Now or never, Stac thought to himself as he formed his tongue into a hard wedge and pushed in.   Buck's lips opened, not resisting, instead, opening to Stac and responded with his own tongue, running it around Stac's.

Buck was fully hard now, his cock pressed down, trapped between his legs.  He reached between them, trying to grasp it, liberate it.  Stac figured out what Buck was doing and lifted his body up a little so Buck could work his hand in.  Buck grasped his cock and pulled it up between them, both their cocks now lying together, parallel, happy, trapped, but not minding it, and riding back and forth between their hot bodies, spreading pre cum which created a shared lubricant for their increasing movement.

Stac pulled away from Buck's lips, letting his moans escape with greater volume.  "I can't believe this,"  Buck said, "Becky and I never kissed like that."

"Did she do this to you?"  Stac said as he slid down a little and began to lick and then kiss and then to suck, Buck's hard nipples.

"Oh, god, no,"  he said, his voice coming out as a groan, "never."

"This?"  Stac slid down further, running his tongue along the ridges of Buck's hard stomach, then into the bush of pubic hair.

The covers had slid off them now, gathered in a clump at the foot of the bed.  Neither of them was cool, though, for obvious reasons.

Stac grasped Buck's  jerking cock with his right hand, steadying it, and then licked its head, adding more wetness to the pre cum which was now oozing from it in considerable quantity.  Sweet, Stac, thought, as he lowered his open lips and engulfed the pulsing head.

"Oh, Stac!"

"Like that?"  Stac said, pulling off or a second.

"Incredible.  Becky would never do that."

"Sounds like sex with Becky was definitely on the vanilla side,"  Stac grinned up at Buck, admiring the hard contours of his torso from this new vantage point.  Then he lowered his mouth to take Buck's cock full length in one overwhelming stroke.

Buck tasted strongly of maleness, his cock and pubic hair salty with dried sweat and sex.  He gasped as Stac engulfed him.  The sound he made came from someplace deep in his chest and with it his entire body again began to tremble.  He was beyond words now, into some realm where the body overloads, the brain no longer able to process the mass of signals it was receiving.

He came back to a lucid state long enough to warn Stac.  "Gona, Stac, gona, oh, god, Stac!"

Stac pressed in, feeling the first wave hit the back of his throat, feeling Buck expand in his mouth, then pulse again as Stac pulled back to catch the next torrent on his tongue.

Buck arched off the bed, his body frozen in an almost catatonic state, then collapsed in a withered heap, unable to move, unable to speak.

Stac moved up again, letting his own hard cock play along Buck's belly, bringing his mouth to Buck's, letting his tongue move into Buck's gaping mouth, letting the white pool of Buck's own cum slide off his tongue onto Buck's, seeing Buck's eyes widen, first in disbelief, then in new pleasure as the signals from his tongue hit his brain.  His arms came up to hug Stac, pulling their bodies together once more in a powerful embrace.

They dozed a little, not as long as Buck must have thought.  He woke with a jolt, remembering where he was, responding to the warm presence of Stac against him.

"What time is it?"

"Not late."

"I thought we must have slept like this all night."

"That would be nice."

"Yeah,"  Buck smiled.  The taste in his mouth reminded him of what they had done, what Stac had done to him.  He rolled over a little and kissed his new friend on the lips, softly, chastely.  "I never knew it could be like that, Stac."

"With another guy?"

"With anybody."

Stac kissed him back and rolled into a setting position on the side of the bed.  "I'm afraid the coffee may be a little stale.  Do you still want some?"

"Yeah, sounds great."

Stac made no effort to cover himself as he left the bed and walked toward the kitchen.  He poured coffee into two large mugs and then put a few fresh slices of the homemade bread on a plate.  All this was loaded on a tray with the crock of butter, the jar of jam and a bowl of sugar, spoons and two knives for spreading.  As he picked up the tray and started for the bedroom, he thought of napkins, put the tray down and added two from a bottom drawer, big ones he kept for special occasions.  Maybe they'd help them keep the crumbs out of the sheets.

As he entered the bedroom, he stopped to admire Buck, who was again dozing, spread on his back with his legs apart and his body fully visible, as if on display.  He lay in a slightly curved position, one arm under his head, the other flung out straight over the side of the bed, projecting like the limb of some graceful tree into thin air.

Yeah, Stac thought, the guy was beautiful.  And what made it even better was that Buck didn't seem to know or care.  His powerful legs were spread wide, one bent a little, the other straight.  Stac thought he looked like an artist had posed him.   His cock, now limp, hung down over his loose balls, proud, ready for what ever Stac might want to do next.  Any apprehensions Buck may have had about having sex with another guy seemed to have been completely overcome and he now lay there open,  available.

"You sleeping, buddy?"  Stac said as he put the tray down in the center of the bed.

"Yeah, I guess I was."  He rolled over onto his side, careful not to slosh the coffee.

"This coffee will wake you up."

"Good, I can think of several reasons I want to stay alert."

"Me, too."

"You haven't come yet."


"Well, I may not know much about man to man sex, but my mama always taught me that one good turn deserved another."

"I wonder what your mama would think about the kind of good turn we're talking about here."

Buck laughed, a big, hardy, chest swelling laugh.  "Drop her teeth, I'd guess."  He smiled, shook his head as if not knowing what to make of this entire situation, then added, "but I mean it, Stac."

"We'll probably get there.  If we don't, that's okay, too."

"We'll get there.  I owe you."

"We're not keeping tabs here, Buck."

"I know, but I want to, you know, get you off.  You may have to talk me through it, Stac, I really don't know what I'm doing."

"Learning can be fun."

"Not arguing."  He leaned over and kissed Stac gently on the mouth.  They held the kiss, Buck beginning to get into it, pressing in a little, running his tongue over Stac's lips.

"Easy, fellow.  You want to spill the coffee?"

"Sorry,"  Buck looked a little ashamed.   "I guess I got a little carried away." He looked down and smiled in an almost boyish way.  "It's new to me, you know, Stac.  Kissing another guy, I  mean."

"Well, hold that thought.  We'll get back to it."  Stac slid a mug across the tray toward Buck, then asked, "you use sugar."

"Sometimes, but tonight I think I got all the sweet I can take."

"Well, help yourself.  The bread's still a little warm."

"I can't get over you making all this stuff, bread and jam, man, unbelievable."

"Well, thanks.  Enjoy."

They sipped their coffee in silence as each in turn dipped into the butter and the jam, spread it on the thick slices of bread.  Buck had rolled onto his side, supporting his head on his bent right arm.  Stac had pulled himself up against the headboard of the bed, his legs spread out in front of him.  Both men were still naked, uncovered to the other's gaze, and Buck realized he was being rather bold in the way he ran his eyes over Stac, checking out every detail of his hard, muscular body.

"You work out, Stac?"

"Yeah, a lot.  Good way to deal with the frustrations of being alone."

"You mean being horny and not having anyone to do it with."

"Yeah, that and just pent up energy."

"You got weights?"

"In the barn.  A bench and bars and a ton of weights."

"You work out along?"

"Yeah, since Dad died.  We used to spot each other.  What about you, Buck, you're in great shape."

"Oh, yeah, I pump iron.  Played basketball in high school and got hooked on body building."

"Go to a health club or something?"

"Nope, can't afford that shit and can't stand those gym rats anyway.  I still go to the high school gym a couple of nights a week.  My old coach and I work out together."

"Just weights?"

"Well, on Friday nights since Becky left, I get into a pick up basketball game, most weeks, anyway."

"Your old high school coach organize that, too?"

"Yeah, but he can't play any more.  Tore a ligament in his leg about three years ago.  He still lifts weights, though and he's in great shape, except for not being able to run or jump."

"Sounds like you and he are buds."

"Yeah, we are, Stac.  He kept me in school, for one thing.  I would have dropped out when I was seventeen if he hadn't been there busting my butt to keep me on the basketball team.  Then when Becky left me and I went into a kind of crash, it was Coach who pulled me out, made me get my ass going again."

"But you guys are just buds?"

"You mean are we doing stuff like you and me, right?"

"Well, it's not any of my business."

"No, it's okay,"  Buck was silent for a moment, thinking about Coach and what he really felt about him.  "You know, I guess I really do love the guy.  Not sexual, though.  I guess I never thought about him like that.  He's more like my dad than anything I could think of."  He paused again and sipped his coffee.  "And he's married, Stac, got a great wife and three kids."  There was another pause.  He was thinking.  "I'm sure he never thinks of me like that."

"Well, just wondering, Buck,"  Stac said. "I didn't mean anything, asking those questions."

"I know.  Did make me think, though. It's kind of odd.  Doing it with one guy sort of makes you start thinking about other guys you care for in a kind of different way."

"Yeah."  Stac leaned over and kissed Buck on the lips, softly, lingering a little.  "You're a neat guy, Buck. I know your old coach must see that, too."

"Well, I'll tell you, Stac, I got a lot of thinking to do after all this.  I just never ever thought I'd be doing this with another guy.  Makes me realize a lot of what I thought about, well, you know..."


"Yeah."  Again, Buck looked down, a little embarrassed.  "Yeah," he said again after a minute. "I guess I got some thinking to do."

"Well, in the meantime, got any other ideas?"  Stac grinned as he put the empty mugs back on the tray and got up to take it to the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah, lots,"  Buck said as he jumped out of bed to help.  "You want to wash up or something?"

"The dishes?"


"We can just leave them."

"No, let's do them now.  I'll help."

"Okay, if you want."

"I want,"  Buck said as he followed Stac back into the kitchen.

Within a few minutes they had cleared the few remaining things from the table and were standing side by side, still naked, at the sink.  "I'll wash," Buck said, "you dry stuff and put it away.  You know where it all goes."

"Okay, good plan."

"I'm surprised how warm it is in here, warm enough to be standing around bare ass naked," Buck said as they worked.

"Yeah, I build a good fire like that on cold nights and the house stays warm till morning."

"Even the bedroom?"

"Yeah.  The fireplace backs up to the bedroom and once the whole mass of masonry is hot, it just radiates in every direction."

They washed and dried the few dished, the mugs and the flatware in silence.  Stac figured Buck was working up to a question, so just stayed quiet and let him get to it at his own speed.

"You done this before, right, Stac."

"Had sex with other guys?"


"Yeah.  I guess I figured out I liked guys and wasn't all that attracted to girls by the time I was about fifteen."

"Did you start that young?"

"No, it took me another three years."

"Ah...oh, shit."


"This is awkward as hell."

"Look, Buck, ask anything you want.  I really don't mind."

"Shit."  He was silent for several minutes and Stac began to think that was the end of it.  Then out of the blue, Buck said, "how many?"

"How many guys?"


"Four.  Well, you make five."

"Any of them for long?"

"No, not really.  One guy in Garrison used to come out and spend weekends with me about once a month.  That lasted almost six months but it's been over a year now since I've seen him."

"He just stopped coming out to see you?"

"He moved south.  But I didn't know that for quite a while.  I went looking for him and his mom told me he'd moved.  About a month later I got a letter from him saying she'd told him a guy came asking about him and he knew it had to have been me."

"So he apologized for moving off and not telling you a proper good-bye."

"Well, no, not exactly.  He told me to leave him the fuck alone and don't ever go looking for him again or asking anybody about him, especially not his mom."



"I'd never do that, Stac."

Stac looked over at him, not knowing exactly what that might mean, but Buck was looking down at the dish he was washing and didn't see the question in Stac's eyes.

When Buck had finished the last dish and put the flatware in the little drained by the sink, he stood back and leaned against the counter behind them on the opposite side of the narrow little kitchen.  The open space between the two opposing counters was no more than six feet and he leaned back, his butt against the counter edge and watched as Stac dried the last dishes.

When Stac reached up to put the remaining dished away, Buck moved behind him, ran his hands around Stac's torso and stroked his firm chest.

"Nice,"  Stac said softly.

"Real nice."

"I kind of thought you'd want to do that again.  It was just my ass you were after all the time, right?"

"No, Stac.  I really wanted to help you do the dished."

"I was just kidding, Buck."

"I know that."  As Stac put the last dish in its place, Buck drew him back until his buttocks were pressed against Buck's crotch, against his rapidly rising cock.

Stac put his hands down on the counter, braced himself, leaning further forward and pressed his butt back more firmly against Buck's cock.  His now fully erect penis quickly moved into the cleft of Stac's ass as they both began to move against one another.  Buck grasped his hips and moved forward.

"You like that, don't you, Stac."

"Yeah.  It feels great."  Buck's cock was seeping, leaving a slick trail along Stac's crack and over the rosebud of his tight ass.

"Can I ask you something else, Stac?"

"Sure, man, anything."

"Gay guys say bottom and top, right?"

"Yeah, Buck."

"So are you a bottom?"


"So you aren't one or the other?"

"No, I like it both ways.  It depends."

"On who you're with?"

"Sometimes who I with, sometimes just the mood I'm in and the mood the other guy's in."

"But you'd let me fuck you."


"Would you fuck me?"

"If you wanted it, Buck."

They were silent as their bodies moved in friendly opposition.

"I still can't believe this, Stac."

"Well, just enjoy it, Buck.  You can think about it later."

Stac leaned forward a little more, lowering his chest almost to the countertop.  Bracing himself on his left arm, he reached back with his right hand and grasped the shaft of Buck's cock, guiding its dripping head to his ass.

Feeling himself positioned for entry, Buck gasped.

"Oh, Stac."

"Do it, Buck, push in."

Buck leaned over Stac, moving his hands from his hips to grasp his shoulders.  As he leaned further forward his cock head slipped easily into Stac's well lubricated ass.  When it had just passed Stac's sphincter, he used his hand to hold Buck in place.  "Hold it there, Buck, don't move."

"That's real hard, Stac."  He was breathing hard.  "Not moving, I mean."

"You can do it, Buck.  Just hold real still so I can adjust to you being in me."

"Oh, god."

"You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah.  I'm holding still, Stac. It was just what you said."

"Yeah, Buck?"

"You said, 'so I can adjust to you being in me.'"


"It just hit me, Stac.  Being in you, I mean.  Me in you, man.  That blows my mind."

"Yeah, it blows mine, too.  It really is awesome, Buck."

"Oh, yeah."

"You can move, now, buddy, slow, real slow, just come on in all the way."

"Oh, god."

Buck leaned into it, feeling his cock slide into Stac, feeling their bodies merge, become one.  It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, like nothing he'd ever felt with Becky, nothing, he realized, he'd ever wanted to feel with her.  When he was all the way in, he raised up, looking down at the space between them.  He slowly withdrew his cock about half way, eyes widening as he saw his ridged shaft emerge from Stac's ass, then slide slowly back in.

"Fucking hot, Stac."

"Yeah, Buck, fucking hot."

Stac began to move against Buck as he speeded up, thrusting and withdrawing in a steady motion.  The tempo increased and both men glistened in the warm space, their muscular bodies glowing with a sheen of sweat.  Buck reached forward and grasped Stac by the shoulders again, balancing himself a little as he rammed in and withdrew.  The head of Buck's cock jolted over Stac's prostate, sending increasingly urgent signals to his overloaded nervous system.

Both men were groaning now, the deep, growling sounds coming from their inter most beings.

"Oh, Stac!"  Buck managed to say.  It was all he got out before his seething cock erupted deep in Stac's bowel.  As wave after wave of his hot seed shot into Stac's gut, Stac also moved into overload, sending jolt after jolt of climactic power through his body, spilling his seed on the counter top.

"Oh, Buck!?

Stac collapsed, his hard chest pressed against the cool countertop.  Buck collapsed on him, pressing his sweaty chest against Stac's back.  It was sometime later that they collected themselves and went through to the bedroom.  "Let's take a shower before we get back in bed, Buck,"  Stac said as they approached the bathroom door.



Later, snuggled in bed, as Stac slept, Buck lay awake a long time.  He looked up at the timber ceiling, watched the flickering light reflected from the fireplace in the other room as it played over their bodies.  He rolled onto his side and looked slowly and lovely over every exposed inch of Stac's hard body.

Yeah, Buck thought to himself, he really is a great looking guy.  But Buck's thoughts didn't stop there.  Stac was great looking but that was only the beginning.  He knew from their brief association that this guy was caring and funny and loyal, too.

He wondered what it would be like to be with Stac, really with him, as a lover, all the time.  "I could arrange my routes so I ended up here two or three nights a week." Buck thought.  "On Fridays I could plan my schedule so I'd up here with Stac.  I could stay till Monday, every week.  Kind of nice,"  he thought, "really nice."

Buck wondered if he was gay, if maybe he'd been gay all the time.  Maybe that had been the problem with Becky and he'd just never figured it out.  Maybe it just didn't matter.

Eventually, as it got cooler, he pulled the covers back up over them and snuggled against Stac.  He put his arm around him.  It felt real good.  Stac moaned, a kind of contented moan, and moved back against him.  "Yeah,"  Buck thought, "it felt real good."

When Buck woke the next morning there was a new sound in the air. There was an occasional snapping sound and the pines weren't moaning anymore.  Buck got out of the warm bed and walked to the window.  Outside the forest around them glistened with a coating of ice.  A few trees had broken, most were just bowed under the weight.  He walked to the kitchen and picked up the phone.  It was dead, as he had anticipated.  The lines were down someplace but he wasn't moving the truck on this ice anyway.  He threw a couple more logs on the bed of coals and waited till they caught.  Then Buck got back to bed and snuggled up against Stac again.  His buddy was still sleeping and he figured that was just fine.  They had at least another day and another night before he could get on the road again

"The cold hand of fate,"  Buck thought as he too slipped back into a peaceful slumber.  "Sometimes there can be nothing better."

The end.