Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2024 21:29:23 -0600
From: William Marshal <williammarshal5301@gmail.com>
Subject: I own the Quarterback, Chapter 2

I Own the QB: Chapter 2

I'm back now, I had to take a piss and get another beer. So where was I? Oh
yes, my resolution to stop taking shit from Jake.

The next day at school, as expected I was toxic and Jake was the golden
boy. All of my friends, except for Mary, kept their distance. I understood
and didn't blame them. The word was out that hanging with me would make you
a target. I figured it would blow over after the holidays, but until then,
I was going to live in social exile. Mary assured me that I was secretly
the underground hero of the school for standing up to Jake. I didn't want
to be a hero, I wanted to be left alone, but Jake just couldn't do that. I
lost track of how many times he or one of the other football players bumped
into me in the hall or ran me into the lockers. It got to the point that by
the third period, I saw Jake walking my way and I threw my book down the
hall, and said, "There!" He ran into me anyway.

At lunch, it was just Mary and me, neither of us minded. We talked about
our college plans. My choice was the University of Oklahoma and hers was
the University of Tulsa. We had both thought about applying out of state
but decided against it for family reasons. I occasionally heard some slurs
and insults directed my way, but I ignored them, well as much as any
18-year-old can ignore being bullied by his classmates.

After lunch, I had Senior Honor English and Physics, both of which were
safe spaces for geeks, nerds, brainiacs, and social misfits. These were my
people. Here the jocks and cheerleaders were the outsiders, and we were the
arbiters of what was cool: Dr. Who, Texas Instruments Scientific
calculators, Dungeons and Dragons, alternative bands, Tolkien, etc. Okay,
some of that shit was too geeky for even me, but like I said, these were my
people.

The last period of the day was when I worked in the library. Most days, I
worked in the back room, which was where the server and network access
point were located, as well as our IT workroom. Most days I spent running
updates, helping teachers with technology, or resetting student
passwords. I was working on installing the newest version of Adobe
Pagemaker on the yearbook computers, when Jake walked in.

I happened to be the only student aid in the library that day, and the
librarian was helping an English class with a research project, so I had to
help him.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Is there anyone else who can help me?"

"Nope. Tyler is sick, and Mrs. Vance is working with a class. It's either
me or you wait until Monday."

"Fuck it, whatever. It seems some asshole has hacked into my computer files
and I needed to change my password. While I was doing that, I ended up
locking myself out."

"No problem, let me give you a temporary password. Then you can go out to
one of the library computers and change it."

I logged into the server and reset his password, then wrote his temporary
password on a piece of paper. When he looked at the paper, I knew he wanted
to beat the shit out of me. I had made his temporary password "IamGay4U."

Jake glared at me and said, "I am going to kill you."

"If you or any of your buddies touch me again, I will send every student
and staff member of Little Arrow an email with a copy of your browser
history and a couple of pictures from your private collection."

I turned around and went back to my workstation while that sunk into Jake's
hard head. When I looked back, Jake was gone.

I didn't see Jake again until we loaded the bus to leave for the game. I
was dreading this more than you can imagine. Being a small school, we
didn't have a large, fancy bus for the athletic teams.  Instead, we
traveled on a regular school bus. The worst thing was the girls' basketball
team had the front of the bus and the boys' team the back. I would be
sitting in the back with Jake and all of his buddies. I was beginning to
regret poking the bear with that password. Usually, an assistant coach and
I would sit between the boys and girls, but the bus driver was sick, so the
assistant coach was driving the bus. Then to make matters worse a couple of
JV players were sitting where I usually sat, no doubt on Jake's
orders. When I looked around for an alternative seat, the only one was the
last seat, with Jake.

The asshole had the biggest grin on his face, and I knew I was fucked. When
I made my way to the back, Jake said, "Hello buddy," and his friends
sitting in front of us laughed. Jake then moved his legs and let me into
the inside seat. I was trapped. The trip to the game was for the most part
uneventful. Beyond slamming me into the side of the bus on turns, Jake was
saving the real shit until the ride home. Instead, Jake talked with the
guys in front of us, At one point the coach came back to talk to Jake, who
was the team captain. I had hoped the coach would see the problem and fix
it, but he was too focused on the game. The only thing Jake said to me the
entire hour on the bus was, "Don't forget, you've got to wrap my sprain."

Shit.

When we arrived in Okemah, the JV boys went to the junior high gym to play,
and the JV girls played at the high school. Most of the boys' team and the
coaches went to watch the JV boys play at the junior high.  However, the
guys that needed to be taped and I stayed at the high school. During the
last quarter of the girl's JV game, Jake said, "Let's go do this."

I wasn't sure whether the other guys who needed to be taped wanted to
continue watching the game, or whether Jake told them to stay; however,
Jake and I were alone in the locker room. Then without warning Jake
stripped off all of his clothes and stood there naked. I must admit, I was
stunned and a bit turned on. After all, he was a stud. I guess I stared a
bit much and Jake said, "Whenever you're through eyeballing me you can
start wrapping."

So, I pulled it together, got on my knees, and grabbed the wrap from my
training box. "Hey, Jake," I said, "you're going to have to hold your junk
out of the way."

"If you want it moved, you move it."

I couldn't believe that Jake just told me to touch his balls and
cock. There was no way I was falling for whatever he had planned, so I
reached into the training box and pulled out a pair of scissors, and said,
"They're a bit dull, but they'll get the job done." Suddenly Jake was more
cooperative.

It didn't take long for me to wrap Jake, probably because I was terrified
that someone would walk in and see me on my knees with my face at cock
level with Jake. After I finished wrapping him, Jake smiled, patted the top
of my head, and then slipped on his jock. I was humiliated and pissed, and
he knew it."

A few minutes later the two guys needing their ankles taped came in and I
quickly wrapped them, then went outside for some fresh air. When I got
back, the rest of the team was in the locker room getting dressed. I
grabbed the training box, the coach's clipboard, and our scorebook and went
out to the court to watch the first half of the girl's game. As the guys
finished dressing, they also came out to watch the game.

The girls' games were often sparsely attended, so I took a seat without
anyone else around. However, when the guys came out to watch the first half
of the girls' game, Jake sat down on one side of me and his best friend
Tony `Tiger' Mayfield sat on the other. After a bit, they both draped an
arm over my shoulder, and I was surrounded by the smell of their
pits. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind the smell, it was like perfume for
a gay boy. What I minded was the statement of dominance they were making. I
might not be a football player or a good basketball player, but I was an
athlete and didn't deserve that kind of disrespect from other athletes. For
fuck sake, I had just a month earlier placed second in the State X-country
Meet, which was a lot further than the football team got, and a hell of a
lot further than the basketball team was going to get.

When I tried to get up to find a different seat, they kept me from doing
so. They just continued to talk with each other about the post-game party
and which cheerleader they thought was the best fuck. There I was, stuck
between the two, with one boasting about his heterosexuality and the other
lying about it.

Eventually, the buzzer went off signaling the end of the first half of the
girls' game. The boys grabbed some balls and started shooting while the
girls were back in the locker room. I took the opportunity to move to a
seat beside the cheerleader sponsor, who was also my English teacher. I
could see Jake and Tiger laughing, but I didn't care.

After the girls returned to the court, the boys went back to the locker
room for last-minute instructions and the coach's pep talk. I liked Coach
Monroe, he was a good history teacher and a nice guy, but his pre-games
were uninspiring. Had Churchill had Monroe's personality, Londoners would
be speaking German today and eating Wiener Schnitzel rather than fish and
chips.

Fortunately, instead of attending the pregame, I could remain out in the
gym to set up the bench as soon as the girls' game finished. In addition to
the first aid bag, towels, and water bottles, I also kept our scorebook at
away games. As part of keeping the scorebook, I supplied the public address
announcer with our team's roster. Needless to say, there were two pissed
boys when during pregame introductions they were introduced as "...number
21, Anthony `Tigger,' Mayfield,... and number 14, Jade Norris." Ooops.

For the most part, the game was pretty boring. We'd scheduled a pushover
for our first game and it was an easy win. In fact, Jade, I mean Jake,
scored 23 points and didn't even play in the fourth quarter. While the team
was celebrating their win in the locker room, I heard Jake call out, "Same
seats on the bus on the way home." Fuck I was dead.

When I got on the bus, the girl's basketball coach said loud enough for
everyone to hear, "Edwards you may be a National Merit Semi-finalist, but
you need to work on your penmanship. Isn't that right Tigger and Jade."
There were only three people on the bus who didn't laugh at his joke. I
looked for an empty seat besides the one next to Jake, but he'd made sure
there wasn't one. As I walked past Tiger, I got thumped. For those who
don't know about thumping, that's when you turn your class ring so the
stone is on the palm side of the hand and then you head-slap your
victim. It hurts like hell.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again," Tiger said, "I will thump
thirty points off of your IQ." As bad as my head hurt, I had to resist
replying that I would still be 20 points smarter than him. My mouth was
beginning to write hot checks that my body wouldn't be able to cash.

Jake told Tiger to sit down, and that he would "take care of the problem."

Jake waited until we were out of town and no streetlights were illuminating
the bus. Then he leaned over and said, "You and me are going to have a
little talk tonight. Do you understand?"

I snapped back, "I thought you had plans with Deedee Bowman to prove to
yourself you're not a..." That was the moment I learned what it felt like
to be punched in the gut. For several minutes I couldn't breathe, then I
wanted to throw up, then I wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

Jake and I didn't speak for the rest of the trip home. The minute I got off
the bus, I walked straight to my car, got in, and laid rubber out of the
parking lot. I later learned there were some serious words said between
Jake, Tiger, and Coach Monroe.

I drove home like a bat out of hell. The truth was I could easily have
killed myself and ended all of Jake's problems then and there. However, I
didn't because this is not some story from beyond the grave.

I was home alone and still pretty shaken up. Granny Frida and Granny Judy
decided to get a room in Tulsa. Although it was only a 45-minute drive from
Tulsa to the farm, they planned to spend the weekend in Tulsa with
friends. So, when I heard banging on the front door, I about shit my
pants. "Bryan Edwards, open this fucking door!" Jake yelled.

"No!"

"Open it before I kick it in!"

"You'd better not! I have a shotgun, and if you kick that door in, you
won't be having an open-casket funeral." I was being dramatic, and I didn't
have a shotgun or any type of gun.

There was a silence, and I could hear Jake pacing on the front porch. He
finally stopped and asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I told you what I would do if you or any of your crew ever hit me again."

"Bryan please, you can't do that. It will ruin me," Jake pleaded, and I
could hear the panic in his voice. I didn't answer and he desperately
started banging on the door.

To this day, I don't know why, but I opened the door, and Jake came rushing
in. I thought he was going to hit me again, but he didn't. He just kept
pleading with me not to expose him. He wasn't even any longer denying that
was gay. He was just repeating over and over that it would ruin his life if
people found out. Then he said it, "My dad will kick me out! He'll disown
me!"

Then it became clear to me, this was all about his dad. Jake's father, Andy
Norris, was a controlling, narrow-minded, angry asshole. Before it became
obvious to everyone that I was gay, I had been over to Jake's house several
times. Jake's mother was nice, but I never liked his dad. It was like Jake
could never do anything right. I always figured if that's the way fathers
treated their sons, I was better off without a father. However, Jake was
like that sad puppy that no matter how many times it's kicked, it always
comes back for more.

Now it all made sense, Jake was still trying to win his father's
approval. The sports, fucking the cheerleaders, bullying kids, getting an
offer to play football for OU, were all for his father, not for
himself. Jake was a victim of emotional abuse.

So, at this point in the story, you are expecting me to empathize with
Jake. This is where I throw my arms around Jake and tell him he's okay,
that he's valuable, that he's loved for who and what he is.

 Well, no. This is the point in the story that I said, "Suck my cock."

"What!?" Jake said not believing he heard what I just said, "Hell no!"

"Fine, I'll see you in school on Monday...maybe, if your daddy doesn't have
email." Okay, I will admit it, that `maybe daddy' shit was the cherry on my
asshole sundae.

But then he did it. He dropped to his knees, undid my pants, found my cock,
and started sucking on it. It wasn't a good blow job, and it wasn't my
first, but what made it good was that it was given to me by JAKE NORRIS!
I'm sure that the only reason I shot my load was from the power trip of
JAKE NORRIS sucking on my cock. I mean this was the starting quarterback,
point guard on the basketball team, signing to play football at the
University of Oklahoma JAKE NORRIS with his lips wrapped around my cock.

Oh, and if you are still looking for that tender, caring moment, this ain't
it either. After I shot my load, without warning in his mouth, I pulled up
my pants, walked to the kitchen, and grabbed a couple of beers. I then
popped `National Lampoon's Vacation' in the VCR. FYI, Granny Judy thought
raising the drinking age to 21 was stupid and it wasn't enforced in my
home.

When Jake finally got over the shock of what he just did, I handed him a
beer, and said, "This will help."

He chugged it and said, "I need another."

"Only if you're spending the night. I'm not getting myself or my Grannies
in trouble when you hit someone or drive into a ditch."

I was surprised when Jake tossed his keys on the side table, then walked to
the fridge and got himself another, and then another. It was a good thing
the beer fridge in the garage had plenty of beer to restock what Jake was
drinking. It didn't take him long to get drunk. He was clearly
college-ready in the party department. Also, on one of his multiple beer
trips to the fridge, he took the opportunity to move from the floor to the
couch to watch the movie. When the movie ended, I wasn't sure what was
next, but then Jake said, "Now that I'm a fag, are you going to suck my
cock?"

I thought about it then said, "What the hell?" I pulled his jeans and
underwear down to his ankles and then rocked his world. For a kid from
Little Arrow, Oklahoma I could give a pretty decent BJ. I'll admit I didn't
have porn star skills, but let's just say that what I learned from two
years at band camp made me pretty proficient on the skin flute. Also, The
Grannies and I had spent two weeks vacationing in Florida the Summer
before, and I had to find something to occupy my time while they hit the
casinos.

I'm one hundred percent sure Jake had never cum like he did that night, and
I swallowed every drop. When he was finally empty, he just rolled over on
the couch and fell asleep. The beer, the emotions, and the orgasm had taken
everything out of him. Of course, now I had to figure out what to do with a
naked jock passed out on my couch. Then it hit me, and I ran to my room and
got my Polaroid camera. I was pretty sure I could get five or ten dollars
for each of the pics.... Come on, seriously, do you really think I'd sell
them? Shame on you. To this day, they are in an envelope locked in my
desk. Anyway, I threw an afghan over Jake and went to bed.

The next morning, Jake was still asleep on the couch when I came down to
eat a bowl of cereal and drink a cup of coffee before going out to do the
chores. During the night, he'd thrown the afghan off and his morning wood
was pointing at the ceiling, so I had to get a couple of more Polaroids. I
know you're wondering about his cock. Like 80 percent of Okie boys of my
age, he was circumcised, he was about 5.5 inches erect (3 inches flaccid),
and average thickness. He wasn't a porn star by any means, but he was
certainly fine.

Anyway, while I was eating breakfast, Jake woke up confused and
disoriented, but then when he realized where he was and remembered what
happened, he started to cry. I had no idea guys like Jake even had the
capacity to cry. I thought that was prohibited by their man/bro code.

Not knowing what to do, I took Jake a cup of coffee, and asked, "Do you
want something to eat?"

He took the cup and then took a sip. He looked at the cup and asked, "Did
you send it?"

"Send what?"

"The email."

Shit, I'd forgotten the reason Jake was naked and sitting on my couch.

"No, I didn't send it," I said.

"Are you going to send it?"

"I don't know. I'm not nearly as pissed off, and my stomach doesn't hurt."

Jake smiled and said, "Your face isn't as bruised as it was yesterday."

"Yeah, it's almost kissable."

"Let's see," Jake said and kissed my cheek.

"What the fuck was that?!" I said as I stood up.

"I thought you'd like that?" Jake said weakly.

"I probably would if the kiss were sincere, but you're just trying to make
sure I don't change my mind and send that email. I don't need your fawning
or pretense of friendship."

"What do you need?"

I hadn't thought about it, but then for some reason, I said, "I need stress
release. I need a toy, a sex toy." Then my lips curled into what must have
been a truly evil smile and said, "I want a boy whose holes, cock, and
balls are available whenever and wherever I need some relief."

To this day, I can't believe I said that. I wasn't brought up to use people
and that wasn't who I was, but something about the last few days and Jake's
attitude and behavior brought out something barbaric in me.

I'm sure Jake was shocked when he heard what I wanted. He had known I was
gay for a while, but I was always the nice guy and the easy target. He was
seeing something mean and edgy, and I know it frightened him. I guess
that's why he believed I would send the email and fuck up his life if I
didn't get what I wanted.

I expected defiance and belligerence from Jake, but he simply said, "I'll
do it." I couldn't believe what I just heard. Jake Norris, macho stud, was
agreeing to be my fucking whore! Frankly, I had no idea what to say or
do. I was like the proverbial dog who spent all day chasing cars and
finally caught one, and then didn't know what to do with it.  So, like a
dumb shit, I said, "I'm going out to do chores."

I was feeding the chickens when Jake found me. He didn't say anything, he
just watched me as I went about feeding the livestock. Finally, I said,
"You know, you could help." So, he picked up a bale of hay, and loaded it
onto the back of the four-wheeler. We then went to feed the two steers we
were fattening up for the butcher. When we got to the pen, I put grain in
the feeder and Jake opened up the bales of alfalfa.  Next, I went to milk
the sheep and goats then turn them into the pasture to graze.

We were in the milking barn and I had just hooked up three nannies to the
milkers, when it suddenly dawned on me that Jake's parents had no idea
where he was. I figured he hadn't told his father he was with me, but what
had he told him? Finally, I asked; "Are your parent going to worry you
haven't come home?"

"No."

"No," I said, "just no?"

Jake took a deep breath and said, "My mom is in Dallas taking care of my
grandmother. I don't know when, or if she is coming home. My Dad spends
most of his time at work or with his mistress and his other boys. I take
care of myself."

"Oh."

"Look Edwards, I don't need either of them, and I don't need your pity,"
Jake said defiantly, but I knew he was lying. He might be able to take care
of his own physical needs, but when he let his cocky jock persona slip,
there was a big hole in his world.

Of course, this is where my heart melts and I reach out to befriend Jake,
right? WRONG! We all have shit we have to deal with. Hell, did Jake care
that I never knew my parents when he was tormenting me? Hell no! And as
they say, karma is a bitch. Jake had a lot of bad karma as far as I was
concerned he needed to work off.

Jake watched me milk the goats, then the sheep, and asked, "Do you do this
every day?"

"No," I said. "Most school days my grannies and Maria, the hired hand, do
the chores, but my grannies are manning their stall at the Christmas show,
and Maria is sick. I help on the weekends, during the summer and holidays,
but usually I don't have to do the milking. Granny Judy says the nannies
and ewes prefer to be touched by female hands."

After the milking was finished, and the herd was out to pasture, I was
ready for a shower. There was a shower in the milking barn where I usually
showered after working on the farm. The milking barn didn't have a large
water heater and I tended to take long showers, so I told Jake his choice
was a hot shower with me or a cold shower by himself. He chose a hot
shower.

I soaped up and then handed Jake the bar of Irish Spring. It looked so sexy
when he washed his hairy pecs. I couldn't resist touching him. He stiffened
but then relaxed. At first, my hands stayed above the belt, but that didn't
stop either of us from getting hard. Then it happened, at the same time
each of us reached for the other's cock.

I could tell Jake was fascinated by my large cock. He stroked it, teased
it, and couldn't take his eyes off of it. It certainly felt good and I
might have let him finish me off, but a wicked thought suddenly popped into
my head. I leaned in close to his ear and asked, "Have you taken a dump
today?"

His eyes grew as big as saucers, and his expression was... well the only
way I could describe it was that it was the look of someone about to ride
their first roller coaster. He nodded, and I turned him against the wall.

...Okay, I have to stop and tell you what an adrenaline rush this was for
me. Jake could have so easily torn my arms off and used them to beat me to
death. What I was feeling had to be what a lion tamer feels like facing a
big cat with nothing but a whip and a chair between him and death...

Anyway, Jake didn't kill me and stayed up against the wall. I leaned up
against Jake with my chest and whispered in his ear, "Are you scared?"

He nodded and said, "Yes."

"Have you ever had anyone play with your ass?"

He shook his head but couldn't say anything.

"Have you ever put something up our ass?"

This time he didn't respond but I could feel his muscles tighten. Granny
Frida kept a bottle of pure Aloe Vera Gel in the shower, and I put some on
my finger and slipped it into his butt crevasse. When I found his tight
hole, I began to gently massage it. Now if you are thinking I was getting
him ready to plow his ass, you would be wrong...this time. Instead, I
simply loosened him up and slid one, then two fingers inside

Fucking Jake at that time would have been a serious, and probably
all-around painful, mistake. So, for the time being, I just played with his
hole and got him loose and used to having something in his ass. Then it was
time to face the lion. I turned him around and pushed his back against the
wall. I used my feet to spread his legs to shoulder width.  I took hold of
his wrists, moved his arms above his head, and told him to keep them there.

I stepped back and looked at him and almost shot my load he was so sexy. He
was muscular, his forearms, calves, pecs, and pits were hairy. The water
had matted down his pubic hair and his cock looked bigger, thicker, and
hard as a rock. There was no way he could deny he was aroused. I ran my
hands over his upper body. Two thoughts ran through my mind, First, `damn
he was built,' and second, `I needed to start hitting the gym.'

I slowly dropped to my knees and kissed his cock. I know. I know. I was
supposed to be making him pay for how he had treated me. However, Jake was
a bag of Lays potato chips, once you have one, you can't stop until you
finish the bag.

As my tongue, lips, and throat worked their magic on his cock and balls, my
fingers again found his ass. This time, I pushed a finger as far inside him
as I could get it. He started to moan, and then I found his prostate. Never
in his wildest dreams could he imagine what it was like to be
deep-throated, and finger fucked at the same time.

Again, it was a matter of minutes before I swallowed enough cum to
inseminate a small city. When I finally pulled off Jake, he was in shock,
he'd just cum harder than he'd ever cum before and it was a guy that made
it happen. His heterosexual illusion was being swept away.

I stood up and said, "Now it's my turn."

Without a doubt, his second attempt to give a blow job was better than his
first. He was definitely paying attention to what I was doing to him and
was trying to copy my technique. Also, each time he did something `gay', he
had to admit to himself a little more that he was gay.

After our shower and other activities, we were hungry and I said I'd make
us something to eat. Although it was nearly noon, my best meal was
breakfast. So, it was pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs for lunch. I
asked Jake if he wanted a beer, but he said he'd stick with coffee, and so
did I.

We ended up talking about what we wanted to do in college. I was certain
that computer science was what I wanted to major in, but Jake had no
idea. I'm not sure he even understood that football players were supposed
to attend class and work on a degree besides football and partying.

Jake asked me when my Grannies were coming home and I said Sunday
evening. Then he said, "I really like Miss Frida and Miss Judy. They have
always treated me nice, even when you and I haven't gotten along so well."

I laughed and said, "It's a good thing you didn't meet up with them after
you punched me. Granny Frida would have just given you a good
tongue-lashing, but Granny Judy might have gotten a bit more physical."

"I know, I've heard the stories and saw what Judy did to my dad," Jake
said. "My grandpa said she can punch as hard as any man that had ever hit
him."

"Well, I have never been much of a fighter," I said.

"That's because you never had to be. You always had someone who loved you
and took care of you."

"You didn't?"

"My mom did...when I was younger, but between grandma, her and dad's
problems, and her depression, she hasn't had much time for me the last few
years."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Well, she tried, I'll give her that, which is a whole lot more than my dad
ever did," Jake said sadly.

"I don't know much about your dad," I said. "I know what he looks like,
that he owns a brick and paving company, and that he's at all your
games. However, beyond that, not much."

"Well, if that's all you know about him, then you know the best things
about him," Jake said, his voice turning bitter, "He's an ass, a cheating
husband, and a shitty father."

"So, if he's all of that why are you so desperate for his approval," I
asked.

"I don't know....that's not true, I do know," Jake said. "When I was about
six, I heard my mom telling a friend that daddy had "the perfect family
with his `other wife', and if it weren't for me, they would have gotten a
divorce. I have never told that to anyone before now. But I guess that I
have always wanted him to love us, to love me, as much as he does his other
family." Then Jake began to cry.

Fuck, I had never done well with crying, my own or other people's. Now I
was seeing Jake cry for the second time. I also understood why Jake was so
afraid of his father finding out he was gay. He figured his being gay would
be just the excuse Andy Norris needed to leave him and his mother for
good. I suspect Jake was right about that. At that moment I knew two
things: one, I was so thankful I never sent that email; and two, I would
not be the one to out Jake Norris no matter how much I hated him.

We watched football games until around 3:00 then I said it was time for me
to go start the evening chores. In the evening, I had to milk the sheep and
goats again, and then make sure they were locked away from
predators. Milking with a partner took about two hours and by yourself a
good three. The big difference between the morning and the evening milking
is that in the evening we had to get the animals in from the pastures. Most
of the time that wasn't a problem. Sheep and goats are herd animals and as
long as the leader is cooperative, the rest will usually follow. The farm
was divided into ten paddocks all connected to the barn by a series of
alleyways. The herd was divided into three lots, one of sheep, one of
goats, and one of both sheep and goats. Each unit also had a guard
Llama. Fortunately, the pasture rotation plan kept the herd on the closest
paddocks during the winter.

"What can I do to help?" Jake asked.

"You can help keep the animals moving into the milking barn. First, we'll
pull in the sheep-only paddock, and then the mixed paddock. That's where
your help will be most useful. We keep the sheep milk separate from the
goat milk for different types of cheese. So, we have to sort the mixed
group into the sheep and the goats. When the sheep are all milked, I'll
rinse the system, switch bulk tanks, and then milk the goats. When the
animals leave the barn, they will be sent to their group's sheds. We keep
them in separate sheds to reduce the spread of disease."

"Okay," Jake said, "What about the Llamas?"

"They are pretty docile around people as long as you let them get used to
you. You can pet the front of their necks but avoid the back of the neck
and their backs. That's where predators would attack them and until they
trust you touching them in those spots it will rile them up and you're
likely to get a face full of llama spit."

"Okay, I'll give it a try, but if a sheep or goat kicks me, I'll kick
back."

I laughed, "It isn't the kicking you need to worry about, it's the head
butts. None of our animals have horns but a full-grown ewe hitting you
below your center of gravity at full speed will knock you down."

"Great, when the guys ask how I was hurt? I can't wait to tell them I was
tackled by a sheep."

"Just be careful, or you will get the reputation of being fucked up by a
sheep. BAAAAA!"

"Damn it, Edwards, that was our freshman year. Just when I thought we might
start being friends you have to go dredging up old history."

"Old history!? Fuck you Norris, it's current events for me buddy. As for
being friends, don't ever mistake my being civil toward you, for us being
friends. Is there anything else you need clarification about?"

Jake hung his head, then said, "I don't have any clean clothes. I don't
have anything to put on after chores."

"Who the hell said you needed clothes to wear?"

"What!? You want me to walk around naked!?"

"Fuck it Norris, just go home. I don't need you, and seeing your face just
pisses me off. So go the fuck home!"

"Asshole," Jake said and marched to his truck. When he left, his spinning
wheels sent rocks flying all across the farmyard. For a long time, Jake and
my hostility festered just under our skins. The slightest prick and it
would turn into a bleeding open wound.

I was fuming and I guess the animals noticed it, because not a single one
of them gave me a bit of trouble. It was like they almost milked
themselves. I turned on the radio in the milk barn and out came classical
music. "Sorry, Granny Frida, no public radio tonight. Tonight, it's rock on
KOMA." Soon the radio was blasting out Elton John's `Candle in the Wind
1997' (The Princess Di version), R Kelly's `I Believe I Can Fly,' and
Backstreet Boys `Quit Playin' Games (With My Heart).' Okay, I'll admit it,
I had a thing for boy bands, but what gay boy in the 90s didn't?

I was just finishing washing down the milk barn floor and was looking
forward to a hot shower when I heard someone drive onto the property. I
looked out and there was Jake. He was back and had a duffle bag. I barely
got out of the way of the door when it burst open and stormed in. "You're
not getting rid of me that easy, fucker."

Then before I could yell for him to leave, he grabbed me and kissed me. I
know it sounds corny, so Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh or John Wayne and
Maureen O'Hara, but I swear on a stack of Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs
that's what happened. The next thing I knew he had me naked in the shower,
and he was giving me a fantastic blow job. I don't know how he managed to
learn that shit so quickly, but he brought some mad skills to that
party. When he'd drained me, he kissed me again so I could taste my cum on
his lips and tongue.

That kiss lasted forever, and when we finally broke it, he looked right
into my eyes, right into my soul, and said, "You broke me, and now you own
me. So, fuck you, Bryan Jefferson Edwards," and then he kissed me
again. When we finally parted lips, he said, "Let's finish this shower
because I brought pizzas."

I remember reaching for Jake's cock, and he stopped me, saying "Let's wait,
the pizza will get cold." So, we quickly showered, got dressed, and jumped
in his truck to go up to the house. In between us on the seat was a large
bundle of blankets wrapped around two pizzas. So the pizzas were still warm
and the beer was plenty cold. We sat in the living room and watched
`Jurassic Park.'

When the movie started, Jake and I were on opposite ends of the couch
eating pizza and drinking our beer. By the time the movie was over, Jake
had migrated to my side of the couch, and we were sharing a quilt.

When the movie ended, I said, "Jake, what's going on?"

He replied, "I cried all the way home, then I was angry, then I was scared,
then I cried some more. The last time I cried this much, was when I was
eight and my dog Lightning was hit by a truck and killed. What's it called
when you just have to get rid of all the negative feelings you've been
holding in?"

"Catharsis?"

"Yeah, that's it. I think I'm having a catharsis. It's like when you eat
something bad or drink too much and you just have to live in the bathroom
until it's all gone."

"Oh great, I'm now the toilet for your emotional vomit and shit."

"No, not at all! You're that person who stays with you to make sure you
will be alright. You're my detox buddy," Jake said and cuddled up against
me. I wasn't sure I wanted to be a detox buddy, especially having no idea
what might be lurking down in the pit of Jake's soul. However, he was right
about one thing, I did break him. So, the question was do I help him heal
or do I just walk away? Maybe I didn't own him after all, maybe he owned
me.

***********************

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