Two Sides of the Same Coin

by Jake Mactire

  “C’mon, buddy, let’s get upstairs.” He didn’t need no more urging and galloped up the stairs. When I got to our room, he had already shucked his jeans and shirt and was unbuttoning his long johns. I had my shirt, socks, and jeans off in a flash. I stood there in my jock, the one I’d worn yesterday and the one he asked me to wear today. By this time he was naked and stood by the bed. I walked over and pushed him down on the bed.

  As I started to move to position my crotch over his face he asked me, “Jeffy, buddy, why don’t you just kick back and let me take care of you, okay?”

  “You gonna do a good job?”

  “Hell yes!” I got on the bed, and he was up in a flash. I lay on my back and put my hands behind my head. I spread my legs a bit. The jock was tented out as much as the tight material would allow. I had to admit, it looked hot. He just stood looking at me for a couple of minutes. His hard-on was jutting out from his red bush. He looked like some Greek god come down to earth.

  “Jeffy, now I understand why you like lookin’ at me when I’m sprawled out on the bed. It’s hot.”

  “Get that pretty mouth down there and take care of me. I been waitin’ on it all day long.” He jumped on the bed and got between my legs. He had his face against the pouch of my jock in an instant. The boy was really turned on by it. He played with the material a bit and got my cock in a more comfortable position. He fondled my balls through the material with one hand while his mouth worked on my jock-covered dick. Pretty soon the pouch was soaked from precum and spit. He moved up and kissed me. He tasted like me; but he was underneath it. That unique mix of Mike, peppermint, Skoal, and beer; I thought it was the hottest taste on the planet. He began to move down my body and stopped and rammed his face into each of my underarms, licking to beat all. Who’d’ve figured the boy liked sweat so much. He was certainly gettin’ off on me. Seeing him all worked up was gettin’ me primed too. All of a sudden, he was back down below the belt. The cool wetness of the pouch was heated by his mouth. It felt good, real good. I loved having my balls played with, and he was working them like a pro. The whole scene was so hot I knew I wouldn’t last too long.

  “Talk to me, Jeffy; tell me how that feels. Am I doin’ a good job? Am I makin’ you feel good?”

  “Fuck, buddy. It feels great. Even this fuckin’ jockstrap feels good with your hand and mouth on it. Yeah, you got one hot mouth on you. You like suckin’ cock don’t ya, bud?”

  “I like suckin’ your cock, my Jeffy’s big cock. Tastes good, just like you. You leak enough precum to float a ship, you know that?”

  “Don’t want you to get thirsty or hungry, bud. C’mon boy, let me feel that hot tongue of yours right through the pouch. You been waitin’ for my cock all day. Show me how much you wanted it.” He began working it with his lips and tongue. He’d rub his beard across the pouch occasionally, and it was so hot. I was watching him really getting into it. His beard glistened with precum and spit and he was really in hog heaven. I never would have thought of leaving the strap on, but I had to admit, it was hot. He was so turned on, it was amazing. He was staying rock hard just from what he was doing. And what he was doing was gettin’ me off too.

  “You keep that up, and I’m gonna shoot a load in that sweaty jock, buddy.” I wasn’t sure if he’d continue or start sucking on me with no obstruction. He continued what he was doing. I couldn’t hold back and felt that familiar drawing, tightening, and swelling that meant I was about to shoot.

  “Buddy, I’m cummin’! I’m gonna shoot, buddy!” I let out a big yell and lost it. He was trying to suck as much cum up as he could through the material. I was squirming and kicking to beat the band. The orgasm seemed to last a few minutes. When I finally stopped spasming, he came up and lay next to me. I drew him close and kissed him deep and long. His face was all wet and carried the musky smell of sweat and sex. He tasted the same way, a way I could only describe as musk, sex, and arousal. I realized it was me on him I was tasting. That was a real hot thought. He kept gently rubbing my wet jock as we kissed. I had to admit it felt great. I was good for another round.

  “Just keep rubbin’ me like that, buddy. Get me hard again. I’m gonna fuck you.”

  “I’d like that, Jeffy. Did you like what we just did?”

  “It was fuckin’ hot, bud. If you’d have described it to me, I wouldn’t have thought so, but you really got me goin’.”

  “You think part of it was havin’ that big dick of yours all cooped up in your jockstrap all day? Knowin’ you were all cooped up and feelin’ it constantly?”

  “Reckon so. Knowin’ you were turned on helped too. I like it when you get turned on.”

  “I hope you don’t think I’m weird, Jeffy, but the way you smell really turns me on. That honest, clean sweat is great, and when you get that musky smell from bein’ horny, it’s like a drug for me.” We kissed again. He kept rubbing me as we were wrangling tongues, and I responded. The thought of him gettin’ turned on by just the way I smelled primed my pump too. I was ready to go again. I got up.

  “Get that sweet ass of yours over on the edge of the bed, and get your legs spread and in the air.” He jumped to respond. By the time he did, I had the jock off, and the lube and condoms out. I wanted to make him feel really good, so I began rimming him. I knew the boy loved gettin’ rimmed, fingered, and fucked. I began licking up and down his crack, each pass spending just a bit more time on his hole. He opened up almost immediately and welcomed my tongue. I groped around on the floor and found the jock. I threw it to where I thought his face would be. I heard him take a few deep breaths and knew my aim was good. I continued eating out his ass, and he was squirming all over the place. He was whimpering to beat the band, and that made me harder. I loved it when he did that. I got the lube, put some on his ass, and worked a finger in. I began to work his gland and finger fuck him slowly. I stood up, keeping my finger in him and working him. I looked down. He was rock hard, and there was a pool of dribble on his belly from his cock. He had a hold of his ankles and kept his legs up and spread. The jock was on his face. He was really turned on. He was flushed, and he was all sweaty. The hair under his arms was matted down. His fuzzy balls were drawn up. I figured I better fuck him before he came.

  “Okay, buddy, you ready to get fucked?”

  “Yes.”

  “What, who?”

  “I’m ready to get fucked, Jeffy.”

  “You want it bad?”

  “I want it bad; I want you to fuck me real bad.”

  “I didn’t hear no magic word.” By this time I was suited and lubed up. I was rubbing the head of my cock up and down his ass. He was trying to push into me and impale himself, but I wouldn’t let him.

  “Please, Jeffy, please fuck me! I want it so bad. I really need to feel your big dick in me. Please, Jeffy; I ain’t never wanted anyone so bad as I want you now and all the time. Stick it in, please?” How could I refuse that? I entered him and went in to the hilt in one smooth stroke.

  “Ahhh… that feels great! So good. C’mon, Jeffy, fuck your buddy. You own my ass, use it, please.” I began pumping away, and he was really enjoying it. He was squirming, moaning, and whimpering, and clamping his ass muscles down on me something fierce. It felt great, all warm and tight. He was working his ass to draw the very essence from me. It was incredible. The boy just loved it, and was showing that he loved it with every move, every sound. I grabbed his ankles and spread his legs wide, as wide as I could. He moaned even louder. I knew he was on that cusp, where the pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. The way I was spreading his legs, he’d be sore tomorrow. It’d give him somethin’ to remind him of this time. He was tensing up, and I could see he was about to shoot. His eyes rolled back in his head as he gave in to the pure, unadulterated sexual pleasure.

  “Go for it, buddy. C’mon, shoot that big mother fucker without even touchin’ it. Cum now!” With that shouted command, he began to pulse and shot all over. I wasn’t quite ready so just continued to fuck gently. I coul
d tell he liked it. He smiled up at me. I put his feet on my shoulders and continued.

  “I love you, Jeffy.”

  “I love you, too, buddy.” I was getting closer so picked up my pace a bit. Just looking down at him really turned me on. I started to shoot and didn’t realize I was on the brink until I was shooting. It felt great. I pulled out and pulled off the condom. I lay down beside him. There was a slow gentle tangling of arms and legs as we melded together. He was the first one to speak.

  “That was incredible. Thanks!”

  “Thank you, buddy, we really turn one another on, don’t we?”

  “We do. I ain’t never met anyone like you. I can tell you stuff that turns me on, like the way a guy smells, and you accept it; you don’t look at me like I was a freak.”

  “You ain’t a freak; we all got things that turn us on.”

  “What are yours?”

  “Well, just seein’ you all horned up by whatever I’m doin’ is one. You’ll find out a few others tomorrow. You wanna shower now?”

  “No, let’s just go to sleep.”

  “Sounds good, we used up this day.” We were both asleep in seconds.

  Chapter Sixteen

  WE WERE just getting out of the shower when Mike asked me about something I’d mentioned the night before.

  “Jeffy, what was it you said you was gonna show me that I’d like?”

  “Impatient little bugger, ain’t ya?”

  “Curious is more like it.”

  “Okay, follow me.” I walked from the bathroom into the bedroom. It was attached so it was only a couple of steps. Mike followed. I picked up the socks I’d torn off last night when we were trying to get into bed as fast as we could. I threw them to him. He caught one and dropped the other.

  “What’s this?”

  “My socks. I wore ’em yesterday; put ’em on.” He gave me a funny look, but he did. I had to admit, he did look awful cute standing there in nothing but a pair of black crew socks. I went to the foot of the bed and picked up the red long handles I’d been wearing before shucking them for our workout yesterday. I balled them up and threw them at him.

  “Now put those on.” He still looked at me kind of funny, but did.

  “You said you like the way I smell. Well, you’ll have it all day now.” I could see him immediately tent out the long handles. He had a huge smile on his face.

  “You’re somethin’ else, Jeffy, you know that?”

  “I aim to please. I thought of it yesterday. You said you like the way I smell, and when you needed a pair of underwear and I loaned you a clean pair, I remember you said you thought that was hot. Ya don’t have to wear that stuff, but I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

  “No way in hell I’m takin’ this stuff off.” He was still grinning like a cat choking to death on cream. I picked up the socks and long handles he’d thrown off last night and put them on. They smelled like Mike. Not strong, but enough for me to know he’d worn them. He was still grinning, and I could see he was really excited.

  “Get your pants on; Mary Grace and her photographer are comin’.” We both got dressed and headed down to breakfast. I have to admit, I was glad I thought of the idea.

  We made coffee, cheese omelets, and fried potatoes. It was a pretty good breakfast. I hauled out a coffee maker and made some drip coffee. We’d just finished cleaning up and making the drip coffee when Mary Grace and Ryan pulled up. I opened the door for them.

  “Mornin’, would you like some coffee? I made drip coffee.” Ryan looked at me suspiciously, but both nodded. They walked into the kitchen. Mike was already pouring two cups. He’d set out milk and sugar too.

  “Mornin’ Mary Grace, mornin’ Ryan; here’s some coffee for you.”

  They answered good morning back. Both fixed their coffees, and then Ryan said, “This is good coffee, thanks!”

  “Thanks, Jeff, Mike.” Mary Grace smiled at us.

  “Just your regular Starbucks Yukon Blend. We use it all the time. I just made it a little different.”

  “This is the same type of coffee you made last time I was here?” Ryan looked shocked.

  “Yeah, it’s a stereotype that cowboys like their coffee strong, but I reckon in some cases like ours it’s true.” Mike had brought out some of his horsehair handiwork while I was making breakfast. I had to admit, he did a great job. I was thinking how I could ask him for a belt without seeming pushy. I finally settled on dropping a lot of hints and maybe getting one for Christmas.

  Mike, Mary Grace, and Ryan were talking about what types of pics to take and where. Mike wanted to get one still life type of photo with a hat band of his over one of my bronze sculptures. Mary Grace loved that idea so we went into the living room. We finally settled on placing the sculpture on a table in front of the picture window. Mike draped the hat band over it and we were set to go. The setting for the picture was great. Although it would be a bit out of focus, the viewer could see that it was taken inside a Western style log house. The view out the window was of Lucky Jeff Bluff, the valley, and river. Ryan took several pictures of that and then Mike wanted a picture of the two of us. Both Mary Grace and Ryan wanted pictures outside as it was a perfect fall day, cold, sunny, and the aspens were all clothed in gold. The light had that soft autumn quality it gets before sliding into the murky light of a northern winter. I had a thought about the picture of the two of us.

  “I got an idea about the picture of the two of us. Why don’t we take it where Mike and I are sittin’ on the fence of the corral? He can be closest to the camera lookin’ at it, and I can be next to him. I can either lean forward or back so you can see both of us.”

  “I like it!” Mary Grace was so excited she clapped her hands. “Just like that cowboy photograph by Stoecklein where he took a picture of all the cowboys sitting on an arena fence at a rodeo!”

  “Good idea, let’s try it guys.” With that, Ryan and Mary Grace headed outside.

  Mike pulled me back and whispered in my ear, “Jeff, can you tell I got a hard-on? I’ve had it most of the mornin’ off and on.” I looked at him.

  “Lucky your jeans are tight enough and new enough it really doesn’t show too much. You just look like a stud with a big package.” I smiled at him. He smiled back. “Just try and think of somethin’ else, Mike. Think of Porky naked or something.”

  We headed out the door. Ryan and Mary Grace were still looking at all the fences and where they could get a picture with a good background. They settled on a part of the fence where the high Cascades would be in the background. The mountains were all covered with snow, and the view was breathtaking. It’s funny, although I’ve lived here all my life except when I was at college and in San Francisco, I still am in love with the valley and the views. Finally we walked over to the fence, jumped up, and sat down on it. It was only in the forties, so it was cold; Ryan and Mary Grace both had coats on. Mike and I had both rolled up our sleeves to the elbow and had the arms of our long handles pushed up to mid forearm. Even with the long handles, it was cold. Ryan took several pictures. We finally moved back into the house. They were going to photograph the rest of Mike’s stuff, and take pictures of him working on a horsehair belt inside.

  As we walked, I asked them, “Mike, Mary Grace, Ryan, do you need me? I gotta talk to my dad’s lawyer in Wenatchee.”

  “No, go ahead, Jeff. We’ll be here a while.” Mary Grace smiled at me.

  I headed upstairs to the room I was using as an office. I called the attorney, Mr. Silas.

  “Silas and Son, Attorneys at Law, how may I help you?”

  “Good mornin’, this is Jeff Connelly. I was callin’ about my father’s will; it was handled by Mr. Silas.”

  “Oh, yes. Mr. Connelly, I am so sorry for your loss. I’ll get Mr. Silas for you right away.”

  “Thanks, much obliged.” I waited a few minutes, listening to some of the most sterile elevator music I’d ever heard. It consisted of instrumental “soft” versions of the Carpenters and Barry Manilow. I
was just about to hang up when Mr. Silas came on the line.

  “Mr. Connelly, I am so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks, sir. I appreciate it.” He asked me for some identification type details, like my social security number and mother’s maiden name. I had the feeling I was dealing with a bank.

  “Mr. Connelly, the will itself is straightforward. Your father left the ranch and everything to you, as well as his investments. Mr. Johnston is the executor, but in this case really has little to do as the will is so straightforward. The ranch is paid for, as is the new house your father had built, and all the vehicles on the ranch. Your father had no debt, Mr. Connelly.”

  “That’s nice to hear; I wasn’t aware he’d paid off the house.”

  “Yes, although he took out a fifteen year mortgage on the house, he paid it off in three years.”

  “Okay. The only books I’ve had access to are those about the cattle ranchin’ end of the business.”

  “I understand. He had us handle his investments and finances, and he handled the ranch end of the business. Really, in the last ten years or so, the ranch had become more of a hobby than anything.”

  “I’m not sure I follow you, Mr. Silas.”

  “Didn’t your father ever tell you about his investments?”

  “I can’t rightly say he did.”

  “Are you sure you’re not able to come in for this? It may be a bit difficult to explain over the phone.” I got this sinking feeling in my gut. I just pictured having to sell the ranch to pay off bad investments. I was jolted out of my worst-case scenario thinking by Mr. Silas.

  “Mr. Connelly, are you there?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Silas. I got distracted a minute. I can’t really make it in to the office for a few days. My truck got vandalized pretty badly, and I won’t be gettin’ it back for another couple of days. I can come in then to sign anything and for any details. Do I owe any money that needs to be paid?”

  “Owe money? Oh, good heavens, no. Your father never told you about his investments?”