Date: Fri, 5 May 2017 11:03:36 +0000 (UTC)
From: jim ford <sojourn1950@yahoo.com>
Subject: Change of Heart chapter twenty

If you're still reading this let me know.

Jim Ford

Sojourn1950@yahoo.com



This story is fiction.

The characters are adults in adult situations.

Warnings: The only person you can ever hope to truly know is yourself.
Trust no one; use condoms.

If you are not of legal age or in a jurisdiction in which this document is
illegal, go way.

This is my story. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy it, let me know.



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Author's Note: Christmas is coming... just not in this chapter. Please let
me know what you think. If you think emails are not important, you missed
the 2016 presidential election.


Chapter twenty

At last, the ride into town allowed Paul to settle into a calm
resolve. Absentmindedly he realized that when Sam and Dave held hands, the
driver's hand was always on top. They didn't usually hold hands, but when
they did, the driver's hand was always free to grab the steering wheel or a
gun. He equated it with sitting with your back to the wall, just that
little extra cautious, professional behavior. He made a note to mention it
to Jeff and to copy their action in the future. That is, if either of them
ever drove again.

Jeff had wanted to talk to the Sheriff about his intentions regarding the
donations. His Uncle Raymond had assured him that he would be seeing
"Daniel" today and would clue him in. Jeff mused as to why and when Danny
became Daniel to his Uncle. Growing up no one but Danny's Mother ever
called him Daniel. That was probably no more than a half dozen times and
only when Danny was in serious trouble.

Arriving at the Firehouse, they asked for Bill Jordan. Bill greeted them
and explained that Raymond had come by and told him to expect other family
members with cash donations. Before they gave the donations, Bill led them
to the tree and explained that the remaining names were not likely to get
any gifts this late in the day. Fortunately, there were only a little over
a dozen small envelopes with a first name and age alongside the identifying
gender, i.e. Timmy, aged 7, boy. Inside they would find a wishlist.

As they were clearing the tree, Fire Chief, Burl Bumpkis stepped out of his
office. With a malicious grin, the rotund one, said, "What's going on here?
What are these perverts doing in my Firehouse? And whose little girl is
this? Get her away from these sick bastards. Jordan! Take her into my
office while I get some of the boys to get rid of this filth." Looking
furtively around for support, he spied three firemen checking over the
tanker truck. He hollered, "You three! Larry, Johnson, and you with `em,
get over here and bring that wrench." The three men hurried at the Chief's
call. They knew he never personally assigned work or wasted time making
small talk, so this must be important.

Maria was confused by the fat man's words. At first she just cowered behind
her Daddy Jeff because he was closer. She wasn't sure what all of those
words meant, but she understood enough. That very loud and scary man was
saying her Daddies were bad people, and that just wasn't right.

The Chief stood taller when Larry, his cousin by marriage, said, "What'cha
need Chief? You need some trash taken out?" Paul figured this meant that
the fireman was familiar with and likely shared the Fire Chief's bigoted
opinions. For the second time, since receiving it, he activated the alarm
for his bodyguards.

The Chief tried to puff his chest out, only to realize his massive gut just
protruded more. What chest he had, actually looked more like sagging
breasts. The Chief barked out, "Exactly! These men are trash and need to be
taken out of here. By force if necessary and I am here to say that force is
necessary. Jordan, I said take this child into my office." Glaring
pointedly at Bill Jordan, he bellowed, "If you value your job..." Then
facing the other three firemen. "all you men will do as I say."

Larry tried to take the wrench from the unnamed fireman. That man resisted
and asked, "Bill"?

Bill Jordan took a deep breath and said, "You men go on back to what you
were doing. There's nothing going on here except folks trying to help by
taking the last of the Christmas tree wishlists. Just so some poor kids
don't miss out on Christmas. Your jobs are safe without y'all having to
assault innocent citizens and likely get arrested."

Larry alone stood his ground, beside Bumpkis. The other two, simply nodded
to Bill and quietly walked away.

Larry gulped noticeably.  At the same time Jeff realized Sam and Dave were
suddenly at their side. "Paul, you called us. You need some help. We would
love to get some time in punching out some fa... Miss Maria, wouldn't you
like to go wait in the truck with Dave"? Both Maria and Dave gave Sam their
best "and wouldn't you like to eat shit" look. Sam, seeing their reactions,
simply shut up. He knew he'd have some grovelling to do later.

It wasn't just the fact that every man present was taller and, by far, more
muscular than Larry, excepting of course the Fire Chief. It was that both
Sam and Dave made sure he saw their sidearms. Larry slunk away, hoping that
the little squirt of piss, he couldn't hold back, was not visible on the
outside of his uniform pants.

Paul, trying hard to control his fury asked Maria to go to the truck and
wait while they conducted business with the Fire Chief and
Mr. Jordan. Maria stepped from behind Jeff and stared Bumpkis in the
eye. While holding the fat man's gaze she addressed her Father. "No! I
won't go to the truck. My Daddies might need me. And besides it's not a
truck it's a SUV. I think he's..." pointing a finger at Bumpkis' face to
clarify her accusation, "I think he's a very bad man. Now let's finish our
bizzyness and just leave. I don't like be'en round him." With a glare at
Bumpkis she dropped her finger and almost snarled, "I hope you get the
asses and twitches you deserve for Christmas."

Paul was very proud of his little girl. At the same time he wasn't sure if
she had intentionally said asses instead of ashes. Even as Jeff swept her
up in his arms, Maria's harsh gaze stayed with Bumpkis.

The Fire Chief looked around to find he alone faced the four men and the
disrespectful little twit. He imagined her living in an orphanage where
Christmas would become a far, distant memory. He was sure the preacher
could help manufacture a cause sufficient to remove her from her "Daddies"
perverted care. He smiled to himself as he turned to see Bill Jordan hand
them the last of the wishlists. Soon, he'd have to see if he couldn't find
an assistant that took orders without constantly questioning him. He had to
admit, Jordan made him look good on paper. The old Sheriff would've helped
bring Jorden in line and deal with these faggots the right way. Too bad the
temporary Sheriff wasn't as easily persuaded. The Mayor and the preacher
would most likely back one of the other Deputies. One that would be willing
to listen to the folks that rightfully run this town. Just like the old one
did.

Bill offered the men an apologetic smile. "I hope this disgusting reception
hasn't deterred you gentlemen from helping the poor. Even if it's my last
official act as Assistant Fire Chief, it would be my pleasure to assist
you."

Jeff nodded to Paul who said, "We want to help YOU, CHIEF Jordan, now, more
than ever." Paul reached into his pocket, opened the envelope and spread
them so the hundred dollar bills were fanned. "There are three thousand
dollars in this envelope and my LOVER has another with an equal amount. I
understand our Uncle Raymond has already stopped by and our Uncle Joe and
Aunt Mellie will drop by soon, each with the same amount."

Paul heard the fat bastard gasp at the term "lover". But, almost as quickly
he was certain he saw dollar signs rolling like the spinning wheels on a
slot machine, in Bumpkis' eyes. It was a look Paul saw in the mirror the
first time he had considered the power of a paycheck, unencumbered by
student debt. That look in Bumpkis' eyes had nothing to do with helping the
poor and everything to do with money in his own pocket. Now to see if
Bumpkis was willing to sell out his "moral high ground" and eat crow.

Paul nodded slightly to Jeff, and his partner dangled the bait. "Chief
Jordan my family had every intention of helping those less fortunate
through the Fireman's Fund this year, as in years past. I think it would be
best if I call Uncle Raymond to come down and retrieve his cash donation of
three thousand dollars. I can also phone Uncle Joe and Aunt Mellie to meet
us at our church and disperse the much needed funds that way."

Bill Jordan couldn't blame these men one bit. They had been insulted,
denigrated and threatened with assault. In a subdued, apologetic voice, he
offered, "Mr. Wilson, Mr. Adams, if you would like to call you Uncle
Raymond, I can assure you, he can have his cash back today. If he has lost
his receipt, I'll just ask him to sign a waiver to that effect."

Paul watched Bumpkis' face fall at the thought of losing $15,000.00 in tax
free cash. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the Cheshire Cat
grin from his face. The thought of grinning faded all too quickly as he
also fought down the rage he felt knowing the bastard had had access to
these charitable funds in the past. An image of what Ilya's men might
do... He forced himself to concentrate on setting the trap.

Bumpkis almost literally fell all over himself trying to get an apology out
of his mouth before Jeff could decide to call his Uncles. "Mr., uh, em,
Mr. Adams, Doctor Wilson, we should consider the less fortunate before you
let our petty differences get in the way."

He actually reached out to pat Maria's upper arm. Both Jeff and Maria
reacted by pulling away. Bumpkis let his hand drop without comment. "As you
said, It's a long standing Adams family tradition to aid the less fortunate
of our community through the Fireman's Fund. We are mere hours away from
putting one hundred percent of your donation into the hands of the
needy. Whereas choosing an alternative may actually deny many families that
very badly needed relief at this special time. Now, Assistant Fire Chief
Jordan and I can handle this with just a couple of signatures in my office
and your fine family can go shopping for the poor children who might not
otherwise get a visit from Santa tonight."

Bill Jordan was not an idiot. He carefully examined his boss in a new
light. He saw, not only, the ignorant, lying, blowhard, bigoted bastard
that he already knew, but now he saw a slimey lowlife that couldn't even be
trusted with donations for the poor. He suddenly felt nauseous.

Jeff worried that the man's obvious greed may have just opened Bill
Jordan's eyes to what an evil blight on humanity Bumpkis truly was. Once he
saw the look of disgust on Bill's face, he knew. "Chief Jordan we need to
hear it from your lips that there will be no deviation from the procedures
you have used these last few years. It is critical that we have your
personal assurance that things go precisely as they did last year. We need
to hear that any revelation, however personally distasteful to you, that
may have occurred within the last few minutes will have no impact on how
these funds are handled. Think about what I am asking of you. Don't answer
until you are clear about what I am really asking." Jeff was afraid he was
putting too much emphasis on `procedures'. He could only hope Bumpkis
assumed he was referring to his and Paul's intimate relationship.

Paul could see Jeff needed his help. Ignoring Jeff's address to Bill
Jordan, Paul purposefully looked as if he was reconsidering the phone
calls, "In your office you say?"

Bumpkis took the hint and started leading Paul toward his office. After a
moment, Jeff, seeing the coast was clear, asked, "Bill, did you understand
what I was saying. It's critical that you use the same procedures as last
year. We already have Bumpkis under video surveillance. If he touches a
penny, we got him. You need to act normal. Do the same things you do every
year, the same way. If you act like you suspect something he might spook
and leave the money untouched this year. Can you do that?"

Bill stared pleadingly into Jeff's eyes, "I never realized until today... I
trusted that bastard to have, at least, some human decency. After watching
him slobber over a few thousand dollars intended for the poor, I wanted to
puke my guts out. I feel ashamed of myself. I let those people down, just
as surely as if I'd stood by and watched their houses burn down. How do I
forgive myself, knowing that I allowed him to deny some families the
simplest of Christmas'? Right now, all I want to do is go in there and beat
that f..." Realizing Maria was still in Jeff's arms, Bill corrected his
language. "Beat that man senseless. Maybe that would help me get some self
respect back."

Jeff could see the man was close to tears. Clasping his shoulder, "Bill we
don't have time for this. You can beat yourself up later. He... you can
even beat up Bumpkis. Only later. Right now, we have to go in there and
play our part. Come on they're there waiting for us." Jeff put Maria on her
feet and admonished her to stay with Sam and Dave.

Bill took a deep breath and said, "Let's do this! Let's nail this bastard!"
It brought to Jeff's mind some corny line from a "B" grade action flick. He
snickered as he followed a determined Bill Jordan into the Fire Chief's
office.

As Bumpkis promised, it went quickly even with the requisite `tax
video'. Jeff was more than pleased with Bill's guarded aplomb.

Once Maria was buckled into her booster seat, Jeff calmly said, "I forgot
to tell Bill something Uncle Joe asked me to pass on to him. Sam, Dave come
with me. You two", indicating Paul and Maria, "wait here, and we'll be
right back."

With that the three men hurried back into the Firehouse. Maria met her
father's troubled gaze. "Don't worry Daddy. Daddy Jeff is just going to
give him a grownup spanking so he won't be mean to us ever again."

Paul was dumbstruck. His mouth gaped open and shut, like a fish out of
water. He finally muttered, "I hope that's all he does."

Jeff and his "team" found Bill and Bumpkis still logging in the
cash. "Chief Jordan could you excuse us for a moment? I just remembered a
couple of details I needed to go over with Bumpkis alone."

Bill didn't hesitate, "Sure Jeff, if you need a hand, I'll be right outside
close enough to hear everything and nothing. As needed."

Once Bill exited the office, Sam locked the door and closed the blind. Jeff
wasted no time, he circled the desk and pulled the fat bastard to his
feet. "What are you doing? You can't do this. I'll have you arrested. I'll
call the Sheriff. Get out now! You fag... Oomph!"

That last was an honest reaction to Jeff's unrestrained punch to Bumpkis'
massive gut. "Look at me!  Look at me!!  You fat fuck!"

Bumpkis would have avoided meeting the taller man's gaze and concentrated
on his pain. Jeff, pulling on the fringe of hair the fat man still
possessed, forced his head up. When Jeff was satisfied he had the the
turd's attention he hocked a loogie and spat in his face. Bumpkis, even in
extreme pain, inherently knew better than to wipe it away. "You slimy
motherfucker. If you so much as look cross eyed at a member of my family
again, I will FIND YOU and I WILL KILL you. I give you my sworn oath, the
coyotes will be feasting on your fat carcass before the sun sets that same
day. Do! You! Under! Stand! Me!" Each word was punctuated with a harsh,
open handed slap across the fat man's face.

Bumpkis searched the faces of the three man and uttered the only possible
correct response, a clearly stated, "Yes Sir, Mister Adams. I
understand. Yes Sir!"

Jeff, Sam and Dave unhurriedly left the office to find Bill waiting just
outside. Smiling broadly, he offered, "I hope you never feel the need to
remind me to treat your family with common decency. Let me know if I need
to tell anyone, I was in there the whole time and that you just asked some
of the same questions over again. That won't be a problem for me."

Jeff shook the proffered hand and asked, "Just remember, same as usual. If
you can get me a list of recipients that Bumpkis has personally handled,
that would be great. Handle it carefully we need his fingerprints on it."

Bill thought seriously, for a moment, "I'm pretty sure that won't be a
problem. I'll call you as soon as I have it." They made sure they had each
other's numbers.

As they exited the Firehouse, Dave asked cautiously, "uh, Jeff, you ever
seen the movie "Taken"?

Jeff glanced at Dave as if `WTF'? Then realization set in and he nearly
busted a gut laughing. Soon the three shared a laugh that totally belied
the seriousness of the situation they had addressed just moments before.

Chuckles and smiles carried them until they were again in the
Suburban. Neither Paul nor Maria asked for an explanation concerning their
mission or their humor afterwards. Instead, the discussion immediately
turned to the wishlists. A bit of the Christmas spirit settled in as they
read from and discussed the lists. There was no challenge when Paul
directed Dave to drive them to Wally World.

Jeff was surprised at how comfortable he was in Walmart. They divided up
the lists and made quick work of the shopping. Sam and Dave insisted on
funding two lists each. Maria understood more of what the children intended
than any of the men. Her assistance, and insistence that it couldn't be
just any action figure from that particular movie, was invaluable. Plus
they asked Google once or twice. There were only two toys that were out of
stock. Jeff bought a gift card worth three times as much as the price of
the toy and they sent a note with Santa's apologies. Since they had not
asked before hand, they bought ribbons and bows and wrapping paper.

They took their booty back to the Firehouse and turned it over to
Bill. Jeff was glad Bumpkis stayed in his office. He didn't want to have to
explain to his family, the handprint on that turd's face.

Leaving the fire station, they headed for the diner. Paul was trying to
rebuild his ire toward Julie. Either the whole thing was really much ado
about nothing or that bastard Bumpkis had ate all his anger.

He realized his negative emotions had dissipated at the Firehouse. When
Jeff got back into the truck, Paul knew, Maria had understood Jeff's
intentions perfectly. His husband had just defended his honor. He felt
suddenly stronger and warmer inside. This feeling was entirely new to Paul,
it was... family pride.

For whatever reason, he just didn't feel harsh words for Julie were
necessary anymore. He was a whole lot more hungry than angry. He did,
however, make a mental note to get Tink to give him a copy of the video of
Jeff and the boys smacking Bumpkis around. It might come in handy to defend
or justify his own aggressive actions in the future.

Julie met them at the door and led them down the right leg of the horseshoe
shaped dining area, all the way to the last table on that side. As she
passed out menus, Julie asked, "Well Princess, how is your day going? You
all excited about Santa Claus coming tonight?"

Maria looked doubtful, "I'm not so sure about Santa. The bad man Bumpkis
said there were children who would have no Christmas if my Daddies didn't
buy them presents. Why would Santa let that happen?"

Julie pulled a chair from another table and sat facing Maria. "Princess,
there are all kinds of people in this world. Some, like the bad man
Bumpkis, take special delight in destroying Christmas for as many people as
possible. Try not to let him destroy yours. Your Daddies are taking steps
to make sure that bad man is put where he can't hurt anyone's Christmas
ever again. At the same time, they're trying hard to help Santa spread
Christmas cheer to those less fortunate. The most important part of what
they're doing is helping Santa touch the lives of as many children as
possible. It's true baby girl, the world has many, many more people than
when Santa first got started. He has an impossible job now, to reach every
child in the world. So,he gets help where he can. Every time you give a
gift to someone you love, you're helping Santa. Every time you give a gift
or make a donation to help a stranger, you're helping Santa. The best
advice I can give you right now, Princess, is keep Santa safe in your
heart. Do that, and you will truly never grow old. You'll grow up, but not
old. And especially not mean like Bumpkis. If you can do that, keep him in
your heart, you'll always know that Santa is as real and alive as you and
I."

With that she stood, caressed Maria's tresses and walked away. All the men
waited and watched their Princess expectantly. "Well I suppose we'll all
just have to help where we can. It's like you always say Daddy, we have to
do our best and hope for the rest. I can't wait to tell DJ. all about this
Santa stuff. Daddy Jeff, do you think Santa could bring me my own cell
phone this year?"

The burst of laughter shared round the table seemed to inspire good cheer
among their fellow diners. Paul saved his partner by letting Maria know
that a personal cell phone was one of the things she had to `grow
into'. Jeff wondered if Aunt Mellie knew of some child that could use an
already purchased cell phone? He decided to ask Julie on the way out.

Their server, Melissa, greeted them cheerfully and quickly took their drink
orders. She certainly remembered her best ever tippers and went out of her
way to explain that they were short staffed and she was working tables at
opposite ends of the diner.

Jeff recalled the note Julie had given him the last time he was here. He
thought this was the perfect time to spread a little Christmas
cheer. "Melissa, would you get Julie for me. I need to ask her something."

"Sure Mr. Adams, I'll go get her for you."

Julie was soon standing over Maria's shoulders. "What's on your mind
sugar?"

"I was hoping Melissa might be able to take a break and have lunch with
us. It looks like the lunch rush is just about over and I wanted to discuss
her plans for college."

"I think that would be a great idea. Let her finish her other table and
I'll send her right over. She's been talking a lot about majoring in
accounting lately. Since you're bringing your business offices here that
means she could intern and still be home for summers and holidays. She has
a younger brother that is every bit as bright as she is. He has a couple of
years to go before he can legally work outside the home. Just something to
think about.

"One more thing. I am so pleased with the way you boys are handling Maria's
questions. And no Paul honey, I am not about to chose a surrogate for you
two. I'll just say that Arkansas is ready when you are and Jeffrey G. Adams
jr. is most definitely eager to arrive. Sorry Princess, it's gonna be a
boy. Just like your Daddies, you're gonna love him at first sight. But Hon,
remember, that's almost a year away."

Maria was busy writing her little brother's name in blue crayon from the
pack of eight, Melissa had thoughtfully provided. Jeff was torn between
helping his daughter spell his first name and comforting his lover. Paul's
glazed over look was hard to interpret. He felt honest relief when Paul's
focus sharpened and a faint smile painted his face. Jeff praised Maria's
penmanship and insisted they put it on the refrigerator door when they get
home. He had a hard time explaining why junior had only two letters for
such a big, important word.

By the time dessert arrived, Melissa had been promised a loan to cover
tuition, books, room and board with a generous stipend for
incidentals. With the understanding that she maintain a "B" average and
upon graduation she would work for the Adams Family Trust or one of its
holdings for one year for each year of funded higher education. Each year
of employment would clear away a year's worth of college debt without
detriment to her salary or benefits. Should her employment be terminated
for any reason, the loan balance would then become an active interest free
loan. Melissa left work that day knowing this would be the merriest
Christmas she and her family had ever enjoyed.

By the time lunch was over Maria had made a new friend and a very strong
contender for part time sitter. Sam made the mistake of using the
unenlightened term "babysitter". Maria vehemently corrected him, since
there would be no babies in the house until Junior arrived. Sam wisely and
sincerely apologized. His partner pointed out that maybe he should think
before he speaks. After all, that was the second time today that Sam had
drawn the Princess' ire. Maria asked Dave how could anyone draw `air' since
you couldn't see it. She looked at Sam with new found awe. Sam lovingly
suggested, perhaps Dave should follow his own advice.

Jeff, insisting he had to visit the men's room, asked Julie if she knew
someone who was in need of a new iPhone with prepaid unlimited usage. Turns
out Melissa shared an old flip phone with her siblings. He knew he'd have
to confess to Paul, but at least the phone would go to help someone who
needed it. He would have one of his guys deliver it after they got home.

On the way home Paul noticed that Jeff was becoming more moody, the closer
they got to the ranch. Finally Jeff realized he was worrying his
partner. "I'm sorry. I've been thinking it was time I really took over the
place and finally moved us into my parents suite. I haven't really been in
there since shortly after they... well it's been a long time."

"Hon, you don't have to move anything. We're perfectly fine in your old
room. Why don't you wait, at least until you bring your things from
Chicago. I mean we can look at it today, and see if eventually we want to
make any changes. We don't have to be in a hurry."

"You're right, but I don't like to put something off just because it's
unpleasant. It was easy to ignore while I lived in Chicago. Let's take a
look when we get home and then decide what to do and when to do it. You may
decide the whole room is hideous and needs to be completely redone."

"What do you remember about the room"?

"Well, I remember it being very masculine. I slept in there whenever Mom
and Dad went out of town. I remember running to get into their bed, if a
bad storm came up or if I had a bad dream. The room is very large. I think
a lot of the furnishings are from the earliest days of the ranch. The bed
is king size and has a horsehair mattress. It has to be cleaned and
refurbished about once a year. That cost an arm and a leg, as my grandpa
used to say.  But, it's very comfortable and well worth the cost. I always
found it comforting to sleep like my ancestors did. It's like being back on
the ranch, it makes me feel more connected to them."

As soon as Maria entered the house she ran to the kitchen to find
Rosarita. She had a lot to share and she wanted to hang her baby brother's
name on the frig. Sam and Dave went off to check in with Fred. That left
Jeff and Paul to their own devices.

Paul was amazed by the variety of emotions that filled his heart whenever
he just relaxed and considered his new found friend, his lover, his soul
mate.

Jeff seemed oblivious to Paul's internal musings. "Come on. Let's look at
the one part of the house I haven't shown you yet." Jeff guided Paul down
the hall to the one door they had yet to enter.

Paul wasn't sure what he had expected, but he was definitely impressed with
this bedroom. It was spacious, and at the same time warm and inviting. The
first thing that grabbed his attention was the bed against the wall to his
left, it was massive. It had distressed planking on the headboard and
footboard. That distressed planking was evident in the matching night
stands as well. There was a sturdy leather covered bench at the foot of the
bed. Paul could see himself sitting there, pulling off his boots and
staging them beneath the bench. On either side of the bed were open doors
apparently leading to walk in closets.

To his immediate right was a opened door leading to the ensuite. Centered
on that same wall was a massive fieldstone hearth and chimney, with a gas
fed fireplace. The hand carved, and obviously distressed, mantel suggested
the fireplace may have been built about the time of the original
structure. The goatskin rug before the hearth, held his imagination, and
for a moment, sparked his libido.

Maria's presence in his life made Paul aware of feminine influences in
clothing and in decorating. Looking around he saw this room as warm,
welcoming, but definitely of a masculine design. The aged, red leather
loveseat and two massive matching armchairs loosely centered on the rug
told Paul, someone wanted the spirit of the old time cowboys to feel right
at home here. If there was anything feminine about this room, Paul couldn't
see it.

The numerous paintings were obviously old and of western settings. The
larger paintings featured sunrises or sunsets, both quiet times of the
day. If there were people depicted, they were all male and all sitting or
reclining, there was no one working or in motion. Even the animals were
depicted as quietly grazing.

A painting on the right side of the mantel caught Paul's eye. It was of two
cowboys in their early to mid-twenties. One seated upon a porch railing
with his hat pushed back on his head. He had an open, honest, handsome,
smiling face. To the precariously seated man's left was a taller cowboy. He
was leaning against the railing with his legs crossed at the ankles. Each
man held a tin cup and each stared fixedly into the other's eyes.

For a moment, Paul thought he should look away. He felt like he had just
barged in on a private and very personal conversation. As if compelled, he
drew closer. It was the eyes of the taller cowboy that caught Paul's
attention. They were the same striking green as Jeff's.

Unconsciously, he began to absorb the details. Both wore spurred boots and
jeans. The smaller man sported a four pocket leather vest over a collarless
creamy brown shirt. A large red bandanna was tied jauntily around his
neck. The taller wore a tan colored, bib front shirt. The vee of the bib
accented the man's broad shoulders and slim waist.The top two buttons on
the right were unbuttoned and left on display his dark, curly chest
hair. Paul noticed both men wore galluses to hold up their jeans. The
taller man's galluses were almost the same tan color as he shirt. He
wondered if that was coincidental or a fashion statement? Both men wore
creased cowboy hats that would not look out place today. The taller man's
hat was not pushed back like his companion's. Instead, Paul had the
impression that that hat was always worn as if permanently attached to the
wearer's head and always ready for a hard ride. Paul would bet money the
taller cowboy would never casually push that hat back on his head. Paul
snickered as it occurred to him that the last article of clothing the
taller cowboy removed at night, was most likely, his hat. And those tan
galluses... definitely a coincidence.

While Paul had been studying the painting, Jeff had been exploring. "Uncle
Joe and Aunt Mellie gave cleared out everything that marked this room as
belonging to my parents. It's almost like they were never here. I don't
know whether to be grateful or upset. As much as I was apprehensive about
going through their personal things, I was almost looking forward to
remembering our times together."

"Well, knowing Joe and Mellie, they didn't just discard everything. I'm
sure it's all carefully stowed away somewhere, just waiting for you to be
ready to go through it. If you're concerned about it, call them now."

"No. I'm sure you're right. I'll ask Uncle Joe tomorrow. In the meantime,
how about we go back to my old room and take a nap or something."

Paul wasn't quite sure how it happened. They were standing there talking
one minute and, suddenly, he was wrapped up in Jeff's arms, from
behind. That sensitive spot at the base of his neck was getting an overload
of stimulation with kissing, licking and nibbling. His lover's fingertips
sought and found his nipples. Between his neck, nipples and Jeff's massive
hardon rubbing against his ass, Paul was soon in sensory overload.

Just when he was about to melt into his boots, Jeff released him, stepped
back and broke all contact. Paul was stupefied by the sudden absence of all
stimulation.

Emphatically Jeff stated, "If we don't stop now, I'll cum in my
jeans. Let's go to my old room and get nekked."

For a moment, Paul considered smacking him upside his head for stopping
everything so harshly. Then he realized his lover had been even more turned
on than he had been. He'd had to use some real self restraint to stop
before cumming.

Paul's brown eyes flared with sudden insight. He moved quickly to the door
and locked it. With determination he began removing his shirt. Now, it was
Jeff's turned to be stupefied. After a moment, Jeff regained his senses,
"Paul, I don't think I'm ready to make ready to make love with you in my
parents bed."

Paul came to him and silently took his face in his hands and gave him a
lush kiss that sent a ball of flaming passion from his brain, straight to
his cock. "First off, who said anything about getting in the bed. Besides,
that's your ancestor's bed, that your parents also slept in. Just like your
Daddy's, Daddy's, Daddy did. They all got over it and you will too. It's
our bed now, and we'll claim it soon enough. Right now, I got a big dicked
cowboy and a goat skin rug on my mind." With that his lips captured his
lover's in a wet, probing kiss.

Jeff immediately forgot about his parents and the bed. Everything else just
slipped away, except that kiss and his throbbing hardon. Paul broke the
kiss and took a half step back. With a single jerking motion he ripped
Jeff's shirt open. Buttons flew across the room. Using his shirt as a
handle he Pulled Jeff to the bench at the foot of the bed. "We're not gonna
use the bed this time lover. Now git nekked rightchere! rightnow!" With
that Paul sat on the bench and pulled off his boots. Jeff, without
question, followed suite. Paul, just as he had imagined only minutes
before, staged his boots under the bench. Jeff, again, followed his
lead. Before another word was spoken they were both naked as birth.

Paul took his lover's hand and led him to the goatskin rug. The feel of his
feet on the rug gave the promise of how sensual it would feel on his naked
skin and Paul shivered. Jeff, thinking his lover was cold stepped to the
fireplace and with the flip of a switch, lit a roaring fire amongst logs
that would not be consumed. Paul left his lover and went over and turned
out the lights. The heavy drapes blocked out any outside light and the room
was illuminated only by the flickering firelight. This time, as they came
together there was no urgency in their touch. Paul knew exactly what he
wanted. No, what he needed to have happen.

Slowly he lowered himself until he was sitting at Jeff's feet, on the
goatskin rug. As he moved down, his fingernails silhouetted his lover's
well defined torso. The sensation made Jeff hiss an intake of breath and
bite his lower lip. His cock throbbed in appreciation. Paul held Jeff's
gaze as he stuck out his tongue, displaying it as a tool he was about to
use.

Jeff, mesmerized, could only watch as spit dripped off that overly long
appendage, making his cock drool precum. Paul didn't wiggle or curl his
tongue, he simply brought it to rest at the juncture of thigh and
torso. Slowly, sensuously, he drug his tongue along skin that Jeff had
never before considered sensitive. Yet, here he was, clenching his fists at
his side to keep from grabbing Paul's head, and raping his mouth. He had
never felt such wet, electrified, skin tingling sensations. He wanted it to
never stop and yet, at the same time he so desperately needed to cum. Paul
was now using his tongue to wash the side of his throbbing cock, from base
to tip. Jeff knew at any moment he would feel that delicious wetness
completely engulf his manhood. He relaxed and moved his hands to caress, if
not control of Paul's head.

Paul grabbed both of Jeff's wrists and simply said, "No." it was not a
command it was a statement of desire. Without wanting to, Jeff's hands
moved away from Paul's head and back to his side.

Jeff clearly understood why a cock was sometimes referred to as a
"manroot". At this moment, it was like his cock was some demanding alien
entity rooted in his flesh, but separate and above, almost all reason. He
would hardly be surprised if it tore itself free from his body and surged
forward, desperately seeking the wet warmth of Paul's mouth.

Paul was busy washing Jeff's cock. Using his tongue like a washcloth in a
shower, only slower and more methodically. Once he was satisfied that
Jeff's cock was wet and shiny, only then did he allow his tongue to recede.

Jeff watched as, again, Paul's tongue extended to catch a drop of precum,
and to probe Jeff's piss slit.  All the while maintaining eye contact with
his victim. That's how Jeff saw himself... A victim. Like a fly in a
spiderweb, caught up and at the mercy of his lover. He wasn't sure victim
was the right word, since there was no other place he would rather be... no
other place he could be, but right here, right now at the mercy of his
lover and his own manroot. Maybe victim was the right word.

Without breaking eye contact and giving no warning, Paul impaled himself on
Jeff's cock. In one fell swoop he swallowed it, balls deep. Choking and
gagging he still worked that cock like a dervish. Teary eyed, but smiling,
he spat a fist full of slimy mucous into his hand and worked it into his
own ass. When he had slime lubed his hole with three fingers comfortably,
he simply got on his hands and knees and commanded, "Take me."

Jeff's manroot needed no more incentive. Like an automaton, he moved
behind, knelt and aligned his cock. He pushed down on Paul's shoulders
until his pert behind was perched just so. Paul rested on his crossed
forearms against the wickedly soft rug. Without preamble, Jeff pulled back
his foreskin and pushed his hips forward just until his corona was captured
by Paul's sphincter. In spite of the three fingered lube job, Paul's
asshole bit into Jeff's cock as if determined to devour the head of the
invading monster. The torture was exquisite! Jeff savoured the sensation.

Without intention, this gave some respite to Paul's defeated rectum. Again,
Jeff pushed inward seeking to enhance the already unbearable pleasures his
manroot was experiencing.

Paul was lost somewhere on the road to Nirvana and Valhalla, but with a
fading memory of having spent time in Hades. The burning sensation was
lessening, but the feeling of being stretched and filled was growing. Just
when he felt heaven was slipping from his vision, Jeff's cock smacked head
on into his prostate. The gates of Valhalla opened and with flashing
lights, fireworks and screams of ecstasy, another deserving warrior was
welcomed home.

Stretching and filling be damned! Paul writhed, pushed and humped against
Jeff's invader.

Hearing Paul's cries of, "FUCK ME!"  and "MORE, OH GOD, MORE!" Jeff began
slamming into his lover's ass without care or compassion. Just a driving,
burning, balls aching need to FUCK!

His cock had never felt so big. The sensations were not only coming from
his cock. The feeling was being pulled from every part of his body. His
whole sense of being was focused and driven toward a final cataclysmic
explosion that was to be nebulously centered around his cock and
balls. When it began, God himself could have neither prevented nor
forestalled this personal equivalent of the Big Bang.

In the throes of his own turmoil of ecstasy, Paul was only vaguely aware of
reaching for his own manroot. It was not to jack off, it was too late to
help that along. Instead he was cupping his hand around his cockhead trying
to keep his eruption from overflowing onto, what was now, his all time
favorite rug. It was a valiant effort, especially considering the
concentration required to even make the attempt. Overall, it was about as
effective as a Dutch Boy's finger against a tsunami.

Jeff, who had been absolutely mindless and uncaring shortly after they'd
got `nekked', was suddenly cognizant of his dead weight pressing down on
his partner. At some point, moments, seconds, minutes, maybe even hours
ago, he had completely collapsed onto his lover. Carefully he extracted his
body and his cock from atop and within, respectively. "I, uh, I'm
sorry. Did I hurt you, Babe?" He carefully caressed the most perfect
backside he'd ever seen.  Unable to resist. Yet, at the same time, afraid
his touch might set off the anger Paul must surely be feeling toward such a
selfish and thoughtless lover.

Paul grunted and groaned, finally rolling over while protecting his
collected ejaculate. Displaying an impressive load that, having filled his
palm was dripping over and onto the rug. "Does this look like I was in
pain?" Chuckling, he continued, "That was.. amazing, stupendous, Guinness
record book worthy sex, and you ask if you hurt me? Ha! Cowboy. You can
hurt me like that anytime." Looking down at his handful of cum, "Ugh! Let
me get rid of this. Are there any towels in the bathroom?"

Jeff's sincere look of concern faded quickly into what his Daddy would have
described as a "shit eatin' grin". Before Paul could make a move to stand,
Jeff captured his wrist, while maintaining eye contact he proceed to suck,
slurp and lick every drop of cum from Paul's hand. When finished he loudly
smacked his lips, and carefully examined Paul's hand. Once he was certain
no trace of cum remained, he released it.

The look of wonder in his lover's eyes made Jeff pause. The memory of mind
blowing sex and subsequent afterglow faded in the face of the unconditional
love he saw in Paul's eyes. Feeling the words completely inadequate and
with tears shining in his eyes, Jeff humbly offered, "I love you, Babe!"

Paul leaned toward Jeff until their lips softly touched. Each syllable
seemed to caress Jeff's soul, as Paul softly whispered, "I love you too,
cowboy".

As if any sudden movement or sound might shatter their universe, both men
quietly got dressed.

Paul looked up as he pulled on his last piece of clothing, a boot of
course. At first he was confused then simply disbelieving. Why would anyone
hang two identical paintings in the same room and on the same wall. As he
moved closer, he ignored everything except the paintings. His eyes were
only allowed to shift between the two paintings, comparing and contrasting,
cataloging the differences as well as the shared elements. Once he could
see each painting equally well, he stopped. The painting he had first noted
was probably completed when both men were in their twenties. The second was
most likely thirty or even forty years later. The talent for detail in both
paintings was amazing, certainly museum quality, if only for the captured
expressions.

The clothes were slightly different, still spurred boots and jeans though
belts replaced galluses. While the green eyed taller cowboy still favored
bib front shirts his, um, companion, sported his now worn leather vest and
red bandanna, but this time his creamy brown shirt sported an actual
collar.

Both faces showed wrinkles and laugh lines. Both men sported some
greying. Overall, time had been kind to both men. The way they looked into
each other's eyes was just as intense as in their youth. Paul noted that
the tin cups seemed the same, but the later background featured barns,
outbuildings, corrals and fenced in pastures.

Jeff stepped up beside his partner, "I used to come in here and make up
stories about those two. We rode off on some great adventures
together. They were my heroes, circling stampeding cattle, tracking down
rustlers, fighting off Indian attacks. I figured they were drinking
whisky. I shared my first taste with them, I was twelve, maybe
thirteen. Later, I used to imagine they were gay lovers. I jerked off more
than a few times thinking about them.

"Truth is they started out as partners in the cattle business. The one on
the left was John Grant, the taller, more handsome of course, is my great,
great, grandfather, I think. His name was Winston Adams. Winston was
practicing law in Boston. He gave it up to come out west. He partnered with
John Grant and together they built up one of the largest ranches in the
territory. They lived together until Winston married. They remained close
friends throughout their lives. After John's wife died he moved back here
with the already widowed Winston and together they raised their children
and amassed quite a fortune in cattle and banking. Up until a couple of
years back there were still descendants of John Grant living around
here. The last one owned the John Deere dealership and even built the house
T.R. and David live in now. It's a family tradition that the first male
child of each generation bears the middle name "Grant". I always figured if
I became famous I would like to be known as "Grant Adams". Thought that was
sexy, kind of like James Bond.

"Anyway, my Dad told me there was a journal those two wrote in most of
their lives. Our copy is the original and is kept in a safe deposit box in
Dallas. Members of the family only have access, once they reach
thirty. They have to sign an oath to maintain the integrity of the original
document and to never reveal It's contents, if they fail to abide by the
signed oath, they forfeit their inheritance. Of course, I haven't seen it
yet, but it's something I very much look forward to."

Paul spoke without looking away from the painting. "I would very much like
an insight into the look those two share. Do you think they were lovers? I
know they fathered children, but they lived together as young men and then
later in life. I'd like to think that their look represents an expression
of deep, abiding and passionate love.

"Out of curiosity, where were they when these paintings were done? It
doesn't look anything like your front porch. Is the house still standing?
I'd love to see where they lived."

Jeff didn't answer, but moved to the drape covered wall and pressed a
hidden button. "I think that can be arranged." The massive drapes began to
slide apart. The drapes revealed large picture windows on either side of
French doors. Opening both doors, Jeff offered with a flourishing gesture,
"Your front porch awaits". Then he added, "This bedroom was originally
their living room."

Like Dorothy's first tentative steps into Oz, Paul walked through the
bedroom doors onto the front porch. It was larger than he would have
expected. There were benches and a couple of rocking chairs. The porch
railing looked just as rugged and sturdy as it did in the paintings. The
porch was large enough so the artist wouldn't have had to set his easel in
the doorway. The barns and outbuildings may have been the same or modern
replacements. Paul wasn't sure and didn't care. What he did care about was
a very real sense of personal history and... love. He imagined the two
positioned just as in the paintings. The winter chill made him shiver as if
someone stepped on his grave. He searched Jeff's face. The look he found
there told him they too could have their portraits painted on this porch
soon, and in another thirty or forty years.

Silently they moved back inside. Jeff closed the doors and the drapes and
joined Paul to stand together in front of the fire. He pulled Paul into his
side. "I think we should sleep in here tonight, in their bed and make it
our bed."

The warmth and flickering firelight touched Paul's soul, "I feel as though
I have been on a very long journey where no one understood me and now, at
last, I'm home." Jeff just pulled him closer still.

Author's Note:I promise Christmas in the next chapter.If you're still
reading, let me know.Thanks,JimSojourn1950@yahoo.com