'52 Panhead

Chapter 25

I woke up a little after seven the next morning, and when I stretched, a tinge from my ass brought a smile to my face. Evan was sound asleep next to me, on his side with his fist curled up next to his cheek. His morning beard was heavy, giving him a scruffy appearance, and his breath smelled like a brewery, and he had never looked so good to me.

Letting Evan sleep off some more of the monumental hangover I figured he'd have, I slid quietly out of bed, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, and eased out the door. The house was quiet, which suited me fine. Although I loved living with Evan, I enjoyed having the early mornings all to myself, and strolling up the lane to the mailbox was a small pleasure, a bit of fresh air and nature before my technology-heavy day began. With that in mind, Chewy and I stepped out the front door only to find Rafael sitting on the steps tossing bits of bread to an eager circle of about twenty squirrels.

"What're you doin' out here?" I asked him gruffly.

He gave me a glance but didn't comment on my less than pleasant greeting. "Feedin' the squirrels, Einstein. What the fuck's it look like?"

"With my bread, no doubt," I replied as I thumped down the steps, scattering squirrels in all directions, and headed up the driveway at a brisk walk. Any hopes I'd had that Raf would stay on the porch evaporated when he jogged up next to me.

"What put a bug up your ass?" he asked me. After Evan's invasion last night, his choice of words struck me funny and I grinned. "What?"

"Nothing. Couldn't sleep?"

"I hardly ever sleep late. Only if I've been up till five or something really stupid."

I enjoyed Raf's company, even this early in the morning, so I slowed my pace, watching Chew as he dashed into the bushes after something I couldn't see. Bill's field of organic corn was about four inches tall, row after row of little green shoots stretching for the sun. The big trees along the drive were beginning to leaf out and soon this would be a cool, shady walk. Rafael strolled along next to me, looking around the fields and chuckling at Chewy.

"I keep thinking we should move further out. Somebody's building next to us."

"Yeah, I saw."

"Can't even see your neighbors," he commented.

I got the mail, a little disappointed that there weren't any muffins in there with it, and we retraced our steps. When we got to the house, Kenny and Evan were still asleep, so I grabbed some carrots and we went out to the fence to feed the horses.

"Holy shit," Raf said from a safe distance. "Kenny said they were big, but... fuck."

"Come feed 'em. They're friendly, except the little black one."

Max had scored another bite Monday evening when I hadn't been paying attention, and I was sporting a matched set of small purple bruises on either side of my right bicep. I now watched him like a hawk whenever he was within striking distance, but this morning he was more interested in nursing than stalking me. The mares crunched their way through their morning snack before heading off across the pasture.

"Ya know... I didn't like you at all when Evan first brought you around," Raf said out of nowhere as we watched them depart.

"I wasn't crazy about you, either," I retorted. "What the fuck brought that up?"

Still gazing after the horses, he said, "Because I was thinkin' how much I like you now."

I stared at him. That was totally not what I'd been prepared to hear. "Really?" was all I managed to come up with.

"Yeah, really," he replied as he turned to look at me. "Actually, it wasn't so much that I didn't like you, as that I didn't like the thought of Evan falling in love with somebody I didn't know. I was afraid he'd leave Patterson."

Kenny had said something similar to me months ago. "So you figured being an asshole might get rid of me?"

"Somethin' like that, until I saw the way Evan looked at you. Then I was just jealous." He took a deep breath and changed the subject. "Kenny said you took him back to the creek."

"Yeah, well, you mentioned it when we hiked back there at Christmas and it just stuck in my head."

He nodded. "He misses that stuff."

"Yeah, he talked about that a little. How people forget."

"They do." Rafael stared off across the field as he added, "Even me."

I turned to look at him, but just then Evan called out the back door, "I'm hungry!"

"Must not be too hung over if he's demanding breakfast," I muttered as we walked back to the house.

In the kitchen, Kenny sat with his eyes closed, breathing in the steam rising from the cup of coffee clutched to his chest. "Little worse for wear?" I asked, holding the back of his neck as I braced a hand on his knee and leaned down to look in his face.

"Headache," he whispered, peering at me from one bloodshot eye.

"How `bout you?" I looked at Evan, who was pouring coffee for me and Raf.

"Headache, but not as bad as him," he replied. "Waffles?" he added with a hopeful smile.

"You do waffles?" Raf echoed, looking at me over his coffee. "Bitchin'! I'll take two. With bacon and scrambled eggs."

So I played kitchen bitch for the next hour, frying bacon, flipping eggs, and cranking out waffles, eating mine standing at the counter, until everyone had had their fill. Waffles are good hang over food because, eaten plain, they're easy on the stomach; but they also dress up well, and Raf and I ate ours with thawed blueberries from the freezer and lots of syrup. Chewy wasn't hung over, but he had his plain anyway. Nothing much more was said about last night as we lounged around the living room drinking coffee and deciding what to do with our day off.

"Nothin' too loud," Kenny requested, hugging his third cup of coffee.

We tossed around a few ideas, but couldn't agree on any of them. Evan and I thought a movie sounded good, but Kenny said it would be too loud and Raf didn't like anything that was playing. Eating out was summarily dismissed (boring), as was wandering around the mall (boring and potentially expensive), a drive in the country (we're already in the country), and poker (too much thinking).

I sat there thinking for a minute before offering, "How about something that involves a little fresh air, a little bit of walking, and then sitting down and eating again?"

All three of them looked at me with varying degrees of interest.

"And what would that be?" Evan asked suspiciously.

"Just answer the question."

The three of them looked at each other a few times, evidently having some sort of telepathic conversation because Evan finally said, "Ok, we'll bite. What?"

"A picnic. Back in the... the place we haven't showed them yet."

It took Evan a second or two, but finally his brow cleared. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, that'd be good." He turned to Raf and Kenny. "It's a neat place right here on the Farm. You'll like it."

With everyone on board, I went back to the kitchen to put together some sort of picnic lunch from whatever we had in the fridge. There was some leftover chicken, so I made chicken salad, and then packed up bread, crackers, cheese, grapes, the leftover chocolate cake Maggie had sent home with Evan on Monday, and a bottle of Chardonnay. A little hair of the dog would taste great back there in the woods. Since we'd be able to take the green Jeep most of the way, I wrapped up our good wine glasses in a couple towels before heading out to the barn.

After tossing a couple lawn chairs and an old blanket into the back, I pulled the Jeep up next to the back porch, idling while Kenny slid in and Raf loaded his chair and the cooler. Evan and Raf climbed the fence to cut across the pasture with Chewy romping at their heels, while Kenny and I drove slowly along the fence line into the woods. I hadn't worked out a Jeep route to the dog cemetery in advance, so it took us a few tries to get there, backing up twice to find a wider space between the trees.

When we got close, Kenny took in the clearing with its dry stone wall, looking like it could have been there for a hundred years, circling the graves where Evan and Rafael stood. He glanced at me for a second, a look of surprise on his face. "A cemetery? Is it Indians or something?"

"Or something is more like it," I said. "It's all the dogs who used to live here. Sharon's grandpa's dogs."

"Huh. Did you know it was here?"

"When we bought the place? No, I found it hiking one day."

As we stopped just outside the wall, Raf came over to help unload Kenny. Since he couldn't reach across the wall to his chair, we ended up making a seat out of our joined hands and lifting him over, which worked well except for the pointy end of a rock that jabbed me in the nuts as I leaned the last few inches before plunking Kenny down. I rubbed my balls for a moment before handing the cooler to Evan and hopping over the wall to join them.

"Belle... Tucker... Buddy," Kenny read as he looked at the headstones. "This is very cool. When my dog died, she was at the vet and I never saw her again. It was like she just disappeared." He looked my way. "That was right before senior year of high school, and my mom wouldn't let me get another one cause she said I'd just be leaving soon and she'd be stuck taking care of it."

"Bummer," I offered from where I sat on Pearl's stone. "But you could get one now, couldn't you? I mean, if you still want to. You love Chew."

From his favorite spot next to the second Buddy's tombstone, Chewy wagged his tail at the mention of his name.

"Yeah, I guess so." He looked at Raf. "Whaddaya think? Could you handle a dog?"

Rafael was sprawled in a chair gazing up into the trees. He didn't interact much with Chewy, but whether he simply didn't care for dogs, or didn't like Chew in particular, I had no idea, so I was pleased when he nodded slowly. "Sure. You shoulda said something, man. I didn't know you were still hot for a hound after all these years."

"Well, it wasn't until Chewy began coming over every day that I started thinkin' about it again."

Raf stretched a hand out to touch Kenny's arm. "We can go to that rescue place Saturday, if you want. The one out past the freeway on 36. Be nice if it was house broken already," he added.

"Yeah, maybe six months old or something." Kenny glanced at the graves. "You gonna... put Chew back here when the time comes? It's like dog heaven."

"Yeah, I suppose. Not anytime soon, though, huh?" I said to Chewy, who had rolled onto his back with all four feet in the air. He rolled his eyes to me for a moment before closing them.

Conversation trailed off as the little graveyard worked its magic. Three of us were hung over in varying degrees, and all four of us were full of waffles, so it wasn't long before Evan's eyes drooped shut. A few minutes, later Raf laced his hands over his flat belly and settled deeper into the chair. I sat there hoping the hard rock under my butt would keep me awake, but then Kenny said, "You bring a blanket or somethin'?"

"Yeah..."

"Why don't you get it?"

I grabbed the blanket from the back of the Jeep and spread it out on the grass in front of the chairs. Kenny pushed his feet off the footrests and eased himself down to the ground as I lay on my back with my hands clasped on my chest. After some maneuvering, Kenny ended up on his side facing me with his knees drawn up and his head on my stomach.

"This ok?" he asked, giving my arm a squeeze.

"Yup. How's your head?"

"Fuckin' killin' me. I'm never drinkin' again."

I smiled, and without looking, dropped a hand onto him, landing on his ribcage, which rose and fell beneath my palm. I sighed contentedly, thinking how much richer my life had become since that day last May when I'd decided to take a ride up into the mountains. I now had Evan, the kind of strong, loving partner I'd never imagined ending up with; two good friends in Raf and Kenny; lucrative work that I actually enjoyed; and a great place to live, here on the Farm. I remember hearing the jingle of Chewy's collar as he flopped down in the curve of Kenny's body, and the next thing I knew someone was kicking the sole of my shoe.

"Hey. Sleeping Beauty. Lunch is ready."

Rafael smiled as he held out a plate of food. I took it and looked around. Kenny was back in his chair with a glass of wine in one hand and a sandwich in the other, looking much better than he had this morning, while Chewy watched him alertly for any crumbs. When I glanced at Evan, he held my gaze for a moment before dropping one eye closed in a wink. I returned it with a grin and dug into my lunch. The cold, crisp wine went well with the chicken salad, and it seemed like the perfect lunch for back there in the woods.

We stayed there all afternoon, just lazing the day away. Watching Chewy sniff around the cemetery for a good spot to pee got us talking about childhood pets. Evan told a story about a hamster that got out of its cage and was found a week later behind a heating duct grill in the living room, alive, but very dehydrated. Back in its cage, it drank half the water bottle in one sitting and died a month later.

Another time, the four of them had found a fat garter snake, smuggling it into Raf's house without his mother's knowledge. When she called them for dinner, Luke stuck the snake in the linen closet for safe keeping, but they forgot about it until Elena opened the cupboard two days later to find it overflowing with baby snakes. Rafael had been grounded for a month.

"And for a month after that, she made us empty our pockets on the back porch before she'd let us in the house," Kenny laughed.

Listening to their shared recollections of a happy, stable childhood, I thought about Brendan growing up with a step-father. Better than no father at all, I supposed. He still hadn't replied to my last email, and I wondered what he was doing right now. Probably just getting out of school or maybe doing his homework in his room.

When it began to cool off a little, we packed up the cooler and blanket, loaded Kenny into the Jeep, and headed back to the house. Raf and Evan walked back, but Chewy hopped up into Kenny's lap to bum a ride.

After some more lounging around in front of the TV, Raf and Kenny went home, and Evan and I made quesadillas for supper. I was at the stove flipping the second one when Evan came up behind me, bumping his crotch into my butt as his hands slid down to grip my thighs.

"So," he murmured against my ear, "what'd you think about last night?"

"I thought what a pig you've been all these months, hoggin' it for yourself."

He turned me loose with an injured look. "All you had to do was ask. I'd've fucked you in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, but I knew you really liked gettin' boned, so..." I shrugged a shoulder. "No biggie. I'd just kinda forgotten what a different feeling it was."

Evan raised his eyebrows with a sigh. "That it is." He tugged the neck of my t-shirt aside to look at his teeth marks. "I didn't really mean to bite you that hard."

I laughed. "Felt great at the time."

We sat down to eat, but Evan just toyed with his food. "So you don't mind if we... do that now and then? I always kinda felt like you just wanted to top."

"Only cause you made it real clear that you just wanted to bottom."

"I did not."

I laughed at him, shaking my head. "You did, too. Just admit it. Every time I got your pants off, you did everything but twist my arm to get me to fuck you."

He shoved his plate away in exasperation. "Ok, ok. It's just cause you were so good at it, and I was so crazy about you, and..." He looked down for a moment before coming back up to meet my curious gaze. "And I really wanted you to like me," he added in a small voice.

"So you let me-"

"No," he cut me off sharply. "I didn't let you. Jesus, I wasn't that desperate to get you."

"Nobody's talking desperate here. If anything, I was desperate for you. What's the matter?"

He dropped his head into his hands. "God, I don't know." His fingers worked through his hair as he blew out a hard breath. "We just kinda got into doin' it that way, and I was a little scared to change it. I thought maybe... you know, that you didn't wanna..."

His words trailed off as I looked at him in amazement. "Oh, man... Did you really think I'd get pissed cause you wanna mix it up occasionally? I don't care what the hell we do in bed. The fact that you're the one between the sheets is what matters to me, not who does what to who." Evan had raised his head to look at me, face solemn, eyes dark. "I love you, Evan – top, bottom, or sideways, ok?" I slid a hand behind his neck, pulling him to me until our foreheads touched. "You're always telling me that I can talk to you about anything, so you need to feel the same way."

He just shook his head slightly, then reached up to hold my wrist as he leaned in and kissed me before pushing to his feet and taking our plates to the sink. I watched him scrape his dinner into the trash, looking at the set of his shoulders, wondering at this glimpse of a side of Evan that I wouldn't have suspected. But then I'd been surprised when he'd confessed to being worried about the success of the Center. He had initially struck me as a confident person, the only child of a privileged upbringing, sure of himself and his place in the world; but that first impression was changing as our relationship deepened and he revealed more of himself to me. He had doubts and fears, just like me, and I felt a surge of tenderness for him that got me out of my chair to hug him from behind.

He stopped washing dishes for a second to lay his face against mine, then gently pulled loose and handed me a clean, wet plate. We worked in comfortable silence with Evan smiling to himself now and then as he gazed out the window into the dark back yard. When the last fork was clean, he took the towel from me, hung it over the edge of the sink to dry, and tossed me a jacket from the pegs by the back door.

"Let's go get the mail."

The driveway seemed longer in the dark, or maybe it's just that we walked slowly. I figured Evan needed to talk some more, so I kept quiet, but we just collected the mail and strolled back to the house. There was nothing on the tube, so we settled in at either end of the couch with our books for a couple hours. After I yawned for the second time, I put my book down, and a few minutes later Evan did the same. We looked at each other for a moment before one side of his mouth curled up.

"Sideways, huh?" he said with a provocative lift of one eyebrow.

"Any way I can get it, dude" I replied with a grin as I pulled him off the couch.

Thursday and Friday while I went to work at Kenny's, Evan stayed home, sleeping in, reading, and just generally recovering from the stress of the past few months. Thursday I got home around three and found him on the couch in just his boxers, reading a book called The Kid: What Happened After My Boyfriend and I Decided To Go Get Pregnant by Dan Savage. (http://www.amazon.com/Kid-Happened-Boyfriend-Decided-Pregnant/dp/0452281768)

"Great title," I commented, as I sat next to his hip and leaned down to kiss him. "We gettin' a kid?" I was joking, of course, but Evan closed the book on his finger and looked at me.

Oh, Christ, he was serious. I stood up. "Evan, we don't know the first thing about kids. You were an only child and I might as well have been. What the hell would we do with a kid?"

"Plenty of people don't know anything about kids till they have their first one." He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Haven't you ever thought about it? The fact that you'll probably never be a father?"

"Yeah, I guess, but..."

"I'm mostly reading it for work, and I know we haven't talked about it at all, but it's something I'd like to at least think about at some point." He ran his hand down my arm. "Just... put it in the back of your mind, ok?"

"All right," I agreed as Evan swung his feet to the floor. I sat down next to him. "God... a kid. I never thought about adopting one." A thought occurred to me and I looked at him in alarm. "Were you thinking a baby? Cause I'm not real sure I could do diapers. I remember Barbara changing Brendan - it was gross."

Evan laughed and put an arm over my shoulders. "No diapers, I promise. And I don't know that I really want to adopt; it's just something I want us to think about. And anyway, God only knows if we'd qualify."

"Cause we both have dicks?"

"Actually, that's much less an issue now, particularly through certain agencies, like the one Dan," he waggled the book at me, "and his partner used. They're more interested in your relationship with each other, and your stability, income, education, health – the things that determine the home environment."

I was still stuck back on diapers, which made me think of Brendan, which reminded me again that he hadn't answered my email yet, but Evan's last words got through. "We have a great home environment. A lawyer, a computer whiz and a dog? How could they reject us?"

"They look at your personal history, too. Family, previous relationships, parents – all that stuff."

My face fell. "We'd be fucked, then, once they got to my family. I couldn't even tell them if my old man's dead or alive."

"Well, don't worry about it," he said, planting a wet smooch on my cheek. "You and I need a few more years together before we think about adding kids to the mix. And we may decide it's not for us at all. Not everybody's cut out to have kids."

No shit, I thought, thinking of my parents. If anybody ever should have kept it in his pants, it was my old man. Evan tossed the book on the coffee table and stood up.

"How about a ride? There's a restaurant out by the river west of here."

By the time we changed into jeans and boots, fed Chewy, got the bikes out of the barn and hit the road, it was almost five. The ride out along the river was beautiful that time of day, with long shadows lying across the road and the river glinting in the setting sun. Evan cruised along slightly in front and to the left of me, occasionally pointing out a field of lambs or a group of kayakers working the gates they'd strung across the water. This was why I owned a motorcycle. You could take the same drive in a car and it'd be nice enough, but there was something special about riding along on two wheels, swooping through the curves, feeling the wind on your face cool as the sun went down.

The parking lot was full of bikes, and we spent the twenty minute wait for a table walking around looking at them. There was one other Panhead, newer than mine, nicely restored, although I liked mine better. From the corner of my eye, I watched my Pan as people caught the tank in just the right light to see the image in the paint. They'd walk slowly past, then stop and come back for another look. Little did they know that the inspiration for the paint job was wandering along next to me, talking about the next bike he wanted to buy.

The restaurant sat in a wide, slow bend of the river, but by the time we sat down at our window table, the water was just a black glimmer of reflected lights. We ate slowly, Evan's booted foot bumping mine companionably under the table. It was a mom and pop kind of place, serving comfort food like meatloaf and beef stew and pork chops, all accompanied by cinnamon applesauce and dark homemade bread. It was delicious and plentiful, and when we walked out to the bikes an hour later, I was carrying a doggie bag for my lunch tomorrow.

Although the day had been warm, the ride home was chilly and I was glad when we turned into our driveway. As we came around the curve, Evan's headlight caught the mares as they stood sleeping near the fence. The foals were both sacked out in the grass, lifting their heads when they heard the bikes, but not bothering to get to their feet. We covered the bikes up and went inside, where Chewy was glad to see us, wagging his whole back end when I gave him a little piece of meatloaf.

It was only nine, so Evan found a movie on the tube, but I was back to thinking about kids. It seemed totally bizarre to imagine Evan and me as parents. I mean, in a traditional family, when you're pregnant, you have all that time to think about it, to get used to the idea. The baby's kind of there already, you know, even before it's born. But when you adopt, you go from no hint of a child anywhere to suddenly being handed a kid. I'm sure they gave you instructions or classes or something, but still, adoption seemed a much more abrupt process.

And, honestly, the more I thought about it, the more it terrified me. After my fucked up childhood, I was painfully aware of the integral part a normal family life played in turning out a well-adjusted child. And was it fair to put a kid through the teasing he'd be sure to encounter being raised by two fathers? Plus, I just didn't think I had the emotional depth and maturity required to deal with raising a kid. Training a dog and keeping up my end of my relationship with Evan were about my limit, I figured. I mean, I knew I could keep a kid fed and clothed, but I wasn't so sure about my ability to nourish his mind and heart and soul - the parts of me that had gone wanting for most of my life.

But I didn't say any of that to Evan... yet.

Evan's movie ended at eleven and he went down the hall to bed while I let Chewy out the back door to pee. I opened the door without turning on the light and it was a second or two before I registered that there was a critter on the porch. I grabbed Chew's collar just before he bolted out the door, and we both stared at the fat raccoon who was sitting on the top step washing his hands in Chewy's water bowl. He was totally unconcerned to see us and finished by scrubbing a fist across his face a time or two before waddling down the steps and disappearing into the dark. I waited a minute or two before turning Chew loose, then locked up when he was finished and went to tell Evan about our masked visitor.

"I'm surprised we haven't seen 'em before. The woods has gotta be full of them," he said as he stretched his arms over his head. He was in bed already, on his back with his soft cock making a lump under the sheet.

"You sleepy?" I asked, as I left the bathroom light on and slid in next to him.

He smiled with his eyes closed. "Sorta. Why?"

"Too sleepy?"

His smile widened. "For what?"

"You know what," I replied, rubbing my erection along his thigh while I licked his neck. I had my answer when the lump slowly turned into a tent. He lay perfectly still while I worked on him, only the occasional `mmm' and the bobbing sheet letting me know he wasn't sleeping through the whole thing. By the time I pushed the sheet out of the way and climbed onto him,

he was breathing hard and beginning to participate. I worked my way south, pausing to give his nipples a workout before slurping my tongue along his rigid cock. After I had him good and wet, I straddled his thighs, dropped forward onto my hands, and began lightly dragging my dick up his leg. As it reached his balls, Evan shuddered slightly.

"That almost tickles," he whispered.

"Then how about this?" I asked, putting some weight into it and pressing our dicks between our bellies as I slowly humped him.

"Uunnnhhh," Evan grunted before he clamped his hands on my ass and took control of the action. He usually liked to string things along for a while, but tonight he kept us moving, thrusting against me with his eyes locked to mine the entire time. I find it really difficult to shoot with my eyes open, but Evan managed it with no problem, staring up at me, his face contorting slightly each time his body jerked. I held out till he was almost finished, and then let `er rip, grinding into him until my arms gave out and I collapsed next to him.

"Your turn," Evan said a few minutes later.

"My turn what?"

"To get your ass out of bed and get a towel or something. I always do it."

"Cause you're closer to the bathroom," I argued.

Evan stopped trying to reason with me and resorted to force, straight-arming me off the bed with a shove.

"Jesus," I grumbled as I walked to the bathroom, "can't you just use Kleenex like everybody else?"

"Too wasteful, we can wash the towels. And you had to get up to turn off the light anyway, so quit your bitchin.'"

I tossed Evan a hand towel from the cupboard, but cleaned myself up with a nice warm washcloth before turning out the light and heading back to bed.

"You prick," he laughed as he threw the slimy towel at me. I swatted it to the floor and jumped on him, flattening him with my weight while I blew a huge raspberry on his neck. He thrashed and screamed like I was sawing off his leg with a rusty spoon, finally dislodging me with a big heave and scrambling off the bed. He stood there rubbing his neck and glaring at me as I ignored him and got comfortable, punching my pillow into shape and tucking the sheet up under my chin just so.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" I asked innocently when I had everything arranged to my satisfaction.

He was laughing by then. "Good fuckin' thing I like you a lot, or you'd be a dead man," he warned me as he slid in next to me. "Night," he added, kissing me quickly on the mouth.

"Night, baby," I replied, rolling over behind him and pulling him close. For some reason, something Evan had said to me on one of our first walks through the back field flashed through my head.

`I didn't know it could be like this.'

No kidding, I thought as I drifted off to sleep. Neither did I.

Friday morning Callie called and asked if Sunday was good for her to visit. It was a perfect time to get the garden in, she said.

"Sure, come on down. Wanna tell me what to go buy, or do you wanna go together, so you can supervise?"

"Oh, let's go together, that's half the fun."

"Works for me. What time?"

"I'll leave here early, around eight, so tenish, I guess."

"Perfect, see you then."

"Callie's coming down Sunday to garden," I told Evan when I got home around six. "Wanna have your folks to lunch since we'll have company anyway?"

"Sure. They feed us often enough." He stood up from the dining table where he'd been studying and stretched his arms over his head. "God, since we're doing it, why don't we just have everybody? It's supposed to be warm. We could barbeque."

"And then they can help plant all the shit I know Callie'll make me buy."

Evan laughed. "You're the one wanted a garden so bad."

"I know, I know, but if we feed' em, they'll feel obligated, right?"

Evan went to the kitchen to make a grocery list while I called Sharon, Maggie and Don, Raf and Kenny, and, as an afterthought, Sonny.

"Sonny, it's Jeff down the road. How's the computer working?"

"Hey, boy. That thing is so fast. Did you know somebody set up a camera at the Moscow zoo? You can watch Russian polar bears swimmin' around."

I chuckled. "That's not all you can watch. Listen, we're having some people over Sunday for a barbeque. Wanna come?"

"Um... sure, thanks. Haven't been to a barbeque in a coon's age. I'll bring beans. I make good beans. Becky's old recipe."

"Ok. Sharon'll be here, maybe she'll recognize `em. You drink beer?"

"Boy, I pissed away more beer than you've drunk."

"No doubt," I laughed. "See you around noon."

"What a character," I said to Evan as I walked into the kitchen.

"You don't suppose he'll bring all those dogs, do you?"

"Maybe. They seem to go everywhere he does. Do we care?"

"Not as long as you're on poop patrol. We don't wanna be stepping in it," Evan said with a face.

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe Kenny'll have a puppy by then. I think they're goin' tomorrow."

"I was thinkin'... would you mind if we invited Kathryn? She doesn't know too many people here yet."

"Fine by me."

So I called Kathryn, who sounded delighted to be invited to our little backyard barbeque and said she'd bring dessert. It was turning into quite a party; now there were ten of us, plus whatever dogs showed up. We decided on chicken, hot links, and a few steaks for the beef eaters, plus Sonny's beans, Maggie's devilled eggs, Sharon's potato salad, and Kathryn's apple pies.

Raf and Kenny were bringing the beer.

With that all under control, Evan and I ate supper, and then spent the rest of the evening sitting on the back porch with our laptops. We surfed YouTube for a while, amazed at the variety of things people take movies of and then post for the world to see. Then we tried to outdo each other finding great cum shots, but after surfing porn sites for twenty minutes, we both had raging hard-ons.

Straightening his dick out in his shorts, Evan muttered, "Jesus, I need to take care of this. Let's go to bed."

"Uh-uh. Let's do it out here."

Evan stared at me. "You wanna fuck on the porch?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" I laughed. "Actually, I just want us to jerk off together."

He brightened at that and hopped up to turn off the kitchen light. With the porch twilight dark from a sliver moon, he leaned over me from behind, kissing my neck as he opened my shorts. I let him play for a minute or two, but I couldn't reach him back there, so I dragged his chair close to mine and made him sit down. Twenty minutes of watching other guys shoot, plus Evan's deep wet kisses and familiar grip on my cock meant that I was ready in about five minutes. When I had Evan almost at the point of no return, I hauled us to our feet and we stroked off over the porch rail, watching the pale jets of cum disappear into the grass.

There's just something about doing it outside...

Thanks to David of Hope for the usual fixes and suggestions.

Like the story? Let me know... qwb224@gmail.com