A Good Man

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. No part of this story may be reprinted without permission. Copyright by Metredose, 2024, and all rights reserved. Comments and criticism welcome. Metredose@gmail.com

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A Good Man, chapter 5

Sean slept deeply that night, his head filled with soft, amorphous dreams of well being and contentment. He awoke with a lazy smile on his face, a smile that lasted, even though the details of the dreams quickly fell away. For once, he was up before Frank. The big man lay beside him, gently snoring. Usually Frank was up and away long before Sean even stirred into consciousness, outside before first light, working on some chore, so that Sean had to go out and find him when he got up much later. It was a change of routine that Sean wasn't sure he liked, probably because it signaled a deeper change, an end to their time together. He knew he would be leaving Frank that day, maybe forever. But it was nice and toasty under the blankets. Frank's large body always produced a lot of heat, even when he slept. Above the covers, away from Frank's warmth, Sean's face was nipped with cold, especially his nose.

Outside it was still dark, but light from the stars, from the nearly full moon above, glittered and reflected off of the panes of the small window in Frank's bedroom. Sean stirred a little and soon realized his dreams had caused more than a smile. He was hard. Achingly hard. Even the tiniest movements of his erection against the blankets which covered him brought the most delicious sensations. His anxiety over leaving Frank brought an edge to his arousal. He didn't want to go, but he knew he had to, and so he was determined to make the most of their remaining time together. The trouble was waking the big man. Sean really wanted to, but at the same time he hesitated to do it. For a long while, he lay motionless, though it pained him because his erection refused to subside. But if the big man was still sleeping that meant that he needed to sleep, for Frank never took more than he needed of anything. There was something else holding Sean back. He feared that Frank, once awoken, would jump immediately into action, as he usually did, planning and preparing their forthcoming trip down to the smallest detail, and if he got that way nothing would distract him. And that meant they wouldn't have time for a proper goodbye, the sexual farewell that Sean so desperately wanted.

Tentatively, Sean moved his arm so that his hand brushed against Frank's thigh. There was no reaction. Frank, he knew, was accustomed by then to sharing his bed with him, accustomed to his night time noises and movements. Sean wanted to wake Frank up gently, to make it seem like he woke up naturally, of his own accord, but his gentle touches were not working. He lifted up the blankets a few inches from his own body, and immediately his nostrils were assailed by the powerful scent of the big, sleeping man. It was not a pretty scent, not sweet, but it went straight to Sean's head. His dick twitched fiercely under the covers, and Sean longed, as he had done the day before, to bury his face in Frank's armpits, to lick away and take inside the sweat there, the potent odor, the essence of the man.

It was unbearable. Sean was tingling with need, his penis leaking onto his belly, and he thought he'd go mad with lust. He lifted the blankets over his head, snuggled up inside, then shifted his body around in slow movements until his face was close to Frank's crotch. The smell was sharper there, quite overpowering. Sean swooned. He could see nothing in the darkness, but he could sense exactly where Frank's genitals were situated, the large, resting testicles, the relaxed cock lying atop them. He leaned over and touched Frank's balls, silky and surprisingly cool, and covered with coarse, wayward hairs. Abandoning restraint, he gently pulled the soft cock away and sucked it into his mouth. His nose, buried in the thick forest at Frank's crotch, continued to draw in the scent, and his tongue danced softly around Frank's penis. A faint, far away grunt, like it had escaped from a dream, issued forth from Frank as his cock started to thicken and lengthen within Sean's mouth, soon filling it and forcing him to adjust himself to spare his aching jaws, for Frank was exceptionally girthy, more so than Sean had even realized.

In time, a rhythm was established, a bobbing rhythm, slow but steady, and then Frank grunted loudly and his large hands came to rest on either side of Sean's head, stopping his movements. Sean tried to resume a few times, but Frank wasn't having it. So he shifted again, emerged from the blankets, and saw Frank's face in the low light.

"I want to taste your cum," Sean said, in a pleading voice he barely recognized as his own.

He had longed for it for a long time, the taste of Frank's cum, to take it down inside of him. But apart from that first night together, when Frank had briefly sucked him and he had tried to suck Frank, there had been no oral sex involved in their couplings. Oh, Sean had tried several times, but Frank always maneuvered him into position for fucking. That was what Frank seemed to prefer, and Sean had no complaints about that, but just once he would like to please Frank with his mouth, to take the man's seed into himself from that end, too.

"I gotta take a leak," Frank said.

The big man hopped out of bed, and Sean followed him as he padded down to the bathroom. Frank made room for Sean at the toilet, though it wasn't easy because he was so broad at the shoulders. They stood there side by side, Frank's big, thick slab dwarfing Sean's daintier erection, and seeing them together, seeing them in comparison to each other, did something to Sean. A squeaky little noise, like a puppy's whimper, escaped from his lips. His hand reached over and tried to surround Frank's raging meat. Then he moved Frank's arm out of the way and started licking his hairy, musky armpit. Again like a dog, like a puppy who has located a scent on a small patch of carpet. He licked until Frank was wet, until the bushy hairs were matted down, and the wafting fragrance was more powerful than ever.

"I really gotta go, Sean," Frank said. "Nice as that is, it's not helping."

Sean backed off for a moment, but he couldn't help himself. He turned a little and his hands went to Frank's big, hairy chest. He bent a little and licked one of Frank's nipples, and that's when a crazy thought came to him, a thought that would have disgusted him a week earlier. He relinquished the nipple, and slowly lowered himself, his tongue leaving a trail of wet, flattened hairs as he went down. He was soon face to face with Frank's big cock, which was as hard as ever, and then popped it into his mouth. Just an inch or two, but that was all he needed.

A surge of desire, of deep down need overtook him. He looked up at Frank with wide, hungry eyes, and Frank looked directly back into them, his own eyes gone dark and still. The gaze, soul deep, unflinching, held for a very long time. Frank's hand came to rest on Sean's head, his fingers raking very slowly through his hair.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Frank asked.

Sean could only return the stare. He could not bring himself to admit that yes, he wanted it, but he didn't move. Frank continued to stroke Sean's hair, to gently knead it. His eyes finally closed, but the tender motions continued. Frank's breaths were slow and heavy, like the lowing of a bull, like he was letting go of bottled up steam every time he exhaled. The first gentle stream trickled into Sean's mouth, and he swallowed quickly, the warm, salty piss sliding down his throat and into his belly. It tasted neither good nor bad, in and of itself. It tasted like Frank. The fingers still kneaded his hair, warm and tender, the big cock still stationary a couple of inches inside of his mouth. The flow resumed again, stronger this time. Sean struggled to drink it all without spilling, gulping rapidly and somehow succeeding. He knew there would be a lot more. Frank was a large man and he hadn't relieved himself for many hours. The flow stopped for a moment, but not the gentle, reassuring strokes through his hair. Sean opened his eyes for a moment, but Frank's were still closed. There was an expression of peace, of deep satisfaction on his face, and then his other hand crept up, over Sean's hair, and then cradled the back of his head. Frank was not done. Sean understood that, and he understood by the hand that now held him in place that he was required to finish the job. Never in his life had he felt closer to another human being. Never in his life had his trust in another man been absolute. He raised his hand up until his palm was flat against Frank's furry belly. In slow, short circles it moved there, encouraging Frank to continue, to let the big man know that he was ready.

With a deep sigh, Frank let loose. His urine flowed into Sean's mouth faster than the smaller man could swallow it. It spilled down his chin, over his neck and chest, and trickled down his belly to his very balls. Sean drank as fast as he could, drank until he was full and then until he was fit to burst. The stream ebbed and then it flowed again, ebbed and flowed, and then finally, with a last little push, a trickle like the first Frank had given him, the big man was finally empty. He gently pulled away from Sean's mouth, but Sean grabbed Frank's cock again as fast as lightning, and stuffed it into his mouth, his other hand flying to his own penis and jerking it in short, frenzied motions. Frank pulled away again, and pulled Sean's arm up to stop him from masturbating.

"Hold on a minute, buddy. I have something better in mind."

"I'm dying," Sean said. "Please, let me finish."

"Show some self control!"

Frank's eyes hardened, and his expression became very stern. It was like a cold bolt of lightning hitting Sean's heart.

"Did I do something wrong? You seemed to like it!"

"Look at my cock, son. Does it look like I didn't like it? That's something I've never done before. Don't be upset about that, because I'm not. It was perfect."

"Then why are you mad?"

"Because I told you to stop masturbating, and you didn't. You should know by now that I make the rules around here, especially when it comes to sex. Understand?"

"Yes," Sean whined. "But that just makes it worse because now I'm more turned on then I was before you said it."

"That's good, Sean. That's the way it's supposed to be. But I want you to wait until I'm ready."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy. I wanted you to brush your teeth thoroughly, and then I want you to hop in the shower. I have something to attend to."

"Yes Sir!"

Frank exited, and a few moments later Sean heard to door to the cabin bang shut. Unless Frank had thrown on a robe, and Sean had never seen a robe in the cabin, he walked out into the freezing cold buck naked, and with a big hard on to boot. The thought sent new shivers of desire through Sean, and he gazed down at his dick. Still high and hard, and also leaking. Shear agony not to touch it, not to get himself off when it strained and tingled so intensely, but he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand, which was brushing his teeth. There was a slightly foxy taste in his mouth, nothing more, but he was sure that his breath didn't smell good. He rinsed his mouth out before setting up the brush with toothpaste, and then got to work.

Still brushing his teeth, he heard the cabin door shut again, and then he heard what he knew was Frank setting another log on the fire. A few moments later, Frank returned and, upon entering the bathroom, wrapped his thick arms around Sean's chest. Frank's body had cooled a bit from being outside, but the cold had not affected the state of his cock. Sean could feel it against his lower back when Frank pulled him close and kissed his neck. Then Frank let go and turned on the shower. He was already inside it by the time Sean finished with his teeth. Sean stepped inside, too, and Frank again pulled him close, pulled him into a long, deep kiss.

The warm water felt good and so did the kiss. Frank started soaping Sean's body, his armpits and butt crack, his chest and stomach, but he carefully avoided contact with his genitals. Which was a blessing, because Sean knew that anything could set him off, and though he wanted to cum, though he needed to, he was determined to wait until Frank said it was okay. His desire to please Frank was strong, but more than that, he knew that whatever Frank had planned would be much better than getting off right away. The man was a magician when it came to sex. So he allowed Frank to wash him, and then did the same for Frank, and when it was over they stepped out and dried each other with fresh towels. Finally, Frank leaned in for another kiss, and then took Sean up into his arms, and carried him back to the bedroom, depositing him belly down on the mattress.

Frank crawled up behind him, spread his legs, and then spit loudly into his hand. From wet to dry, from dry to wet again, but only Frank's cock and the small entrance between Sean's butt cheeks. One of Frank's thick fingers poked into him, poked and prodded, and then the big man lowered himself, his hairy crotch scratching against Sean's smooth ass, and his cock quickly entering Sean's hole. Frank worked in and out at a slow pace, but he went in balls deep every time, and it was always on the down stroke, when the thickest part of the big cock was forced inside, that Sean felt his toes curl. He was very, very close to shooting off. His cock was as stiff as a needle, tingling like fire, and his balls felt like stones, locked in and waiting for the final trigger. He knew if he thrust himself against the mattress just once that he would go right over the edge. But he resisted the urge because the urge to please Frank was stronger.

The pace quickened, and the bed quaked. His moans and Frank's grunts filled the small room. Frank's whole body covered him, and that musky scent was all over, rising up with the big man's exertions. Sean felt moisture gathering at the tip of his penis as the tension built to impossible heights, his need for release consuming him, but instead of thrusting forward into orgasm, he thrust back, burying the cock further inside with great force, again and again, and then a new rhythm, a desperate rhythm, as Frank responded in kind. Their bodies crashed wildly into each other, pushing so hard, burying so deep, and animal cries rose up in their throats, cries of near release, of impending fulfillment, and then it stopped in an instant. Frank tore himself out of Sean's hot, clutching ass, walked on the bed on his knees until his cock was right in Sean's face.

"Finish me off, boy," he growled.

Sean opened his mouth and Frank shoved himself inside. For a few moments Sean tried to suck the fat cock, tried to coax it into orgasm, but Frank was heated and impatient. He took ahold of Sean's head, both hands grasping the sides of his skull, fingers curled back behind to prevent escape. Then he started fucking, jabbing inside at a frenetic pace, pushing deeper each time, accompanied by the gruffest mutterings Sean had ever heard. Sean struggled against his aching jaws, stretched so wide to accommodate that thick cock, and he struggled to breath, but he trusted Frank, and anyway, there was no stopping the big man. A few more jabs, and then Frank suddenly froze, his cock buried halfway into Sean's mouth.

An explosion of taste, rich, earthy, a little bitter, like nothing Sean could remember, filled his senses, and Frank grunted each time he sent a fresh jet of semen flying, to be quickly caught and consumed by Sean's receptive orifice. Sean could feel the big cock flexing each time it so forcefully expelled its seed, and he reached up to cup Frank's huge balls so he could feel them pumping, too. Frank shot again and again, and Sean swallowed again and again, lost in lust, proud and grateful that he was finally drinking Frank's sperm, that he was taking the big guy's swimmers down into his belly. It was a moment he knew he would never forget. The sheer eroticism of it, but also the intimacy of the act, receiving into his body the generous offering directly from Frank's balls. Even when it was over, Frank lingered inside of him, quivering with each gentle movement inside Sean's mouth, and sending forth the last precious drops of seed in reward.

Frank gently extricated himself, but Sean wasn't ready to let him go. He nuzzled Frank's hairy nuts and then started licking them. His tongue trailed up to Frank's cock, and he leaned in to engulf it again, but Frank stopped him.

"Flip over onto your back," he said.

Sean was eager to comply. He'd been on the pinnacle of orgasm when Frank pulled out of him, and he was still on that pinnacle. In fact he'd been on it since he first woke up, when he first inhaled the strong scent of the man. It was nothing short of miraculous that he'd not boiled over already, and now, he knew, it was finally his turn. He expected Frank to lift up his legs and plunge his cock inside of his ass, but that didn't happen. Instead, Frank spit onto each hand. With one he coated his index finger. With the other, he took Sean's stiff penis into a firm grip. The finger burrowed inside of him, and then the hand, rough with callouses, began to stoke him. Frank was not gentle. He masturbated Sean's penis with fast swipes, the rough hand working the delicate flesh like a machine, the movements precise yet very rough.

Sean could only gasp, for though it felt good, the sensations were extremely intense. So intense that Sean's dick seemed a bit bewildered, as if it didn't know whether to cum or go soft to avoid the harsh treatment. And then Frank's thick fingered wiggled deeper into his ass. Not far. A couple of inches, maybe. Normally, not a big deal, nothing compared to when Frank's cock entered him. But Frank knew what he was doing. He knew exactly where to touch, the precise spot to press. In an instant, Sean was on the edge again. The fat finger worked slowly inside, scraping deeply over that one spot, and Frank's fist worked his stiff penis like a frenzied but strict machine. Sean moaned, his muscles tensing, the ridges on his stomach in sharp relief, and then he howled as his hips gave an involuntary jerk forward and his dick, clutched so tightly in Frank's iron grip, fired hard. A sharp jet blew out, blew past his stomach and chest, and splatted across his face, and then again and again, uncontrollable blasts of sperm, forced out by the merciless, pumping fist, the relentless burrowing finger.

The last explosion was as strong as the first, and then, Sean felt, that it should be over, but Frank kept pumping him, and the sensitivity was suddenly unbearable. He squirmed and twisted to get away, but Frank wouldn't stop, and it was madness, total madness, and his dick wouldn't stop convulsing even though his balls had nothing left to shoot, nothing left to give. Frank's expression was stern as he milked the exhausted penis, and only when Sean went still after realizing the futility of the struggle did Frank take his hand away. The burrowing finger was next, and then Sean lay there panting in his sweat, his face and body covered with crisscrossing lines of his own seed.

Frank leaned in and pushed the cum on Sean's face into his mouth, and then mopped up more from his body and fed that to him as well. Sean licked it up eagerly, without shame. His seed was far sweeter than Frank's had been, far lighter in taste and consistency. He enjoyed the contrast, enjoyed the thought that both of their loads were mingling some place in his belly. Still panting, he looked over at Frank. The man's lips were curled into a wide smile, and his blue eyes danced.

"Was it worth the wait?" he asked.

"Good God in heaven, yes," Sean said. "I've never cum so hard in my life."

"Thought so," Frank said.

"You're amazing," Sean said.

Frank shrugged. A look crossed his face, a look that said it was time to get down to business. Sean noticed when the big man got out of bed that his cock was still fully hard, and he longed to coax Frank into taking his ass again. But Frank was already dressing himself. He put on long, thermal underwear, top and bottom, then pulled on socks and his jeans. Next, one of the button down flannel shirts he wore so often, and then he was tying his boots. A look of mild annoyance crossed his face when he saw that Sean was still laying on the bed.

"Get a move on, boy," he said.

His voice was bright, encouraging. The way a father would talk to his son. After an inner groan, Sean got up and cleaned himself off before starting to dress. He was much slower about it than Frank. The big guy was already out of the room, fussing with something in the living room of the cabin. Sean had packed the night before, so he felt there was no big hurry. Dawn was barely cracking, just little wisps of sunlight breaking through. There was time.

Frank returned, and asked Sean if he had everything. When Sean said he did, Frank asked him to take some time and think it over, because it was "now or never." A moment later Frank left, and then Sean heard the cabin door shut. He did as he was instructed, but could think of nothing he'd missed. A touch of resentment crept into his mind. Frank could be so pushy, so distrusting. It bothered him, or maybe he just wanted it to bother him so it would be easier when the time came to say goodbye. He thought about making breakfast, but he was sure Frank had it covered.

From outside, he heard the engine of Frank's big truck roar into life. The man wasn't wasting any time. Sean finished gathering his belongings and put them away. He decided to brush his teeth again, just for good measure, and then he went into the cabin's main living area and waited. About fifteen minutes later, Frank appeared with new instructions.

"I need you to write down a number where you can be contacted, and also the name and location of the car rental company."

It hit Sean that he had put off thinking of that particular matter, but he knew it would be taken care of by Frank and his insurance company. Still, it worried him. The rental car was literally stuck in a tree. It was a lot to ask of Frank.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with my mess," Sean said.

Frank looked at him with confusion.

"The car."

"It's no problem," Frank said.

"It's not going to be easy to get anyone up here," Sean said.

"Sure it will. Nothing to worry about. It will get done."

"Thanks," Sean said.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I think so. What about breakfast?"

"We'll see if something is open along the way."

"Okay. I trust your judgment."

"Of course you do."

Smiling broadly, Frank tousled Sean's hair and leaned in for a quick kiss. A moment later he swooped down, grabbed Sean's suitcase, and carried it out. In the living area, Sean grabbed the heavy jacket Frank was lending him, put on gloves, and then followed Frank outside. It was very cold in the open air, and the early rays were gleaming off the slick ground. It had frozen over again during the night. A spike of fear cut through Sean's being, but then he remembered Frank was driving, and he knew Frank could do anything. Walking with a great deal of care so as not to slip, Sean made his way to the truck, which Frank had loaded with the suitcase and some other things of his own. Probably, Sean thought, things that might come in handy if they encountered trouble on the road.

"You ready for this, Sean?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Good. Because you're driving."

At that moment, a shrill cry tore through the air, the sound of George the rooster's first crow of the morning. It rattled Sean's nerves, added to the shock of Frank's words. His heartbeat accelerated, and a feeling of utter panic seized him.

"I can't," Sean said. "You saw what happened last time I tried driving in the snow."

"But you're with me now, Sean. I won't let anything happen to you."

"There's no way I'm driving in this ice."

"Would I let you drive if I didn't think you could do it?"

"I don't know," Sean said. "I don't understand how you can ask me to do this."

"You need to, Sean. You gotta conquer that fear, gotta prove to yourself that you can do it."

"I'm terrified."

Sean was shaking with heartrending fear and disbelief. Frank went over to him and enclosed him in his heavy arms, squeezing him tight.

"It's gonna be okay. Just relax."

"I can't."

"Yes you can. It'll be a piece of cake. I'll be right there with you the whole way. Remember, don't ever press the brake hard. Easy does it. Steer straight whenever possible. Turn into a slide. I'll be right there to remind you, and I can take over if there's an emergency."

"I panicked last time."

"That's understandable. It was a freak storm, and you made a wrong turn and couldn't get back around. Don't lose faith in yourself over one accident. I have faith in you. I know you can do it."

"I believe you," Sean said.

"Good. Let me know when you're ready."

Frank held Sean tight for a good long while, with an occasional squeeze of reassurance, an occasional stroke of Sean's forelocks, which spilled from his toque. Gradually, Sean felt himself calming. It was like some of Frank's strength was seeping into him. He kissed Frank for a moment, then headed to the driver's side of the truck, noticing along the way that Frank had loaded the bed with sand bags for weight.

"Let's give it a try," Sean said, in the cheeriest voice he could muster.

Inside, the truck was quite toasty, quite comfortable once the doors were shut. The heater was doing it's job.

"Okay, Sean. The truck's a standard automatic transmission, as I'm sure you can see. When you put it in drive, see if it will go without pushing the gas pedal."

Sean followed Frank's instructions. The truck crept forward.

"Now, just like with the brakes, you never want to pump the gas. Just press slow and steady. A light touch. Same with steering. Nice and easy. No sudden movements."

Sean kept creeping forward until he saw the road that led out of the clearing. He pressed on the gas very lightly, as Frank had instructed, and turned onto it. Soon, the road became steeper. Sean felt his anxiety rise, heard conflicting voices of panic in his head. Frank seemed to sense his apprehension because his hand found Sean's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. The truck was going faster than Sean wanted, and so he pressed on the brake. The truck slid a bit but then corrected itself.

"You're doing great!" Frank said. "Slow down before you come to the curve in the road. Remember, a very light touch is needed, but also a steady touch. Get down to the speed you want, then let up. You don't want to be using the brakes around curves if you can help it."

His heart in his throat, Sean did his best to follow Frank's instructions, but he thought he might die of terror when he went around that first curve, especially since it was so steep. Having made it, he immediately encountered another. His shoulders were all bunched up, the muscles of his upper body tight with knots. There seemed to be a great weight pushing him down. But he made the second curve, and it was a while before the next one came up. He was going slow enough to take it easily, and then the drive got a little easier.

"Big curve to the left coming up," Frank said. "Take `er nice and slow."

The road was rough as well as icy, full of debris, and it was difficult for Sean to tell if he was still on it as he went around the big curve, but he knew Frank would warn him if something was amiss. In fact, Frank seemed very calm, and this increased Sean's confidence. After a long while, they came to the part of the hill where Sean had driven off the road. He could just make out the rental car as he ambled past it. He held his breath. He couldn't help it. But the rental car came and went, and then Sean wanted to laugh, because his fears suddenly seemed absurd. He was driving down that windy hill like he'd done it hundreds of times. Sure, the car slid a little now and then, but he was up to the challenge each time it happened. Sean started to use a little more gas, gain a little more speed, and they descended more quickly. The last stretch was easy, but Frank warned him to slow down before they reached the paved road connecting to the highway.

"Don't stop all the way. Ease onto the road and turn carefully into the lane. Won't be anyone out in these conditions I don't think, but best to play it safe."

Apprehension rose up in Sean's mind again. He swung a little too hard into the lane, and the truck swerved. He turned into it, as Frank instructed earlier, and the truck swerved the other way before correcting itself. Sean's heart hammered in his chest, because he realized the ordeal was far from over. For the first time, the truck had to go up the rising little side road to get to the highway, and he was afraid of going too fast and sliding into it too far, but also afraid of going to slow and getting stuck on the slope.

"Remember what I said, Sean. Nice and easy does it. Speed up slowly, but don't overdo it. When you get to the top, slow way down and see if you can't ease onto the highway like you did the side road. But watch for traffic."

Frank's voice, crystal clear and unworried, reassured Sean again. He sped up a little, cleared the slope, and then turned onto the highway that would lead them up the Olympic Peninsula, all the way to the ferry. Again, he overturned and swerved, but this time he couldn't correct right away, and slid a little onto the side of the road.

"Easy, Sean. Don't jerk the steering wheel. Turn it slightly in a smooth motion."

The truck slid back onto the road, and Sean slowed down. Being on the highway was an accomplishment. He was pleased with himself. Frank made no further comments, and the truck moved steadily over the ice. He was doing maybe fifteen miles an hour, but was impatient and longed to go faster. The speedometer crept up to twenty, and then Sean was satisfied. His body and his senses were still on heightened alert, but even so it felt like one of the hardest part of the journey was behind them.

A while later, Sean noticed the old bar he and Frank visited the day before. There were a few trucks in the parking lot, and the windows were lit up with beer signs. The place was open. Frank said nothing, and Sean might have driven right past it, but he was hungry and he was feeling confident.

"How about some breakfast?" he said.

"I was hoping you'd say that. But Rusty will be there, so maybe you want to wait for the next joint?"

"No. I'm good."

Sean pulled in. The parking lot was iced over, and he slid a few times before parking the truck, but these incidents no longer bothered Sean as much. They got out of the truck and went inside, where they were greeted by none other than Rusty. She seemed less gruff this time to Sean. In fact, she had a meek expression on her face, as if she was afraid of sticking her foot in her mouth again. She led them to a table, where Frank ordered the sausage scramble and Sean decided to have the same. The food arrived piping hot, and it was delicious. Sean ate more than was usual for him, and he felt very full by the time he was finished.

Rusty came by the table and refilled their coffees. She still had that sheepish look on her face and had said little to either of them beyond taking their orders. Sean felt a little guilty. He didn't know how to tell Rusty that all was forgiven, that everything was okay. He decided praise might work.

"That was about the best breakfast I've ever had," he announced.

Unexpectedly, both Frank and Rusty started to laugh, leaving Sean confused.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing son," Frank said. "It's just that the way you said that sounded an awful lot like me. I think I'm rubbing off on you."

"You seem like a different person today," Rusty said.

"Well, maybe I am! I was out of it yesterday. Please forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," said Frank and Rusty in unison, and then they all laughed together.

Before they left, Rusty wished them both a merry Christmas. Sean's mind had been on other things, and he realized with a shock that yes, it was Christmas. He stepped outside with Frank, feeling warm and fuzzy, but was surprised in a most unpleasant way when he noticed that it was raining. While they ate the sky had changed from bright and sunny to dark and brooding. The rain wasn't pussyfooting it, either, but came down hard and fast.

"Shit, I wasn't expecting this," Frank said.

"Me either. What do we do?"

"We carry on. But the roads are going to be bad."

"How bad?"

"Treacherous. But we can get through if we're careful. What do you think? Should I take over?"

Sean thought about it for a little while, his fear rising and then falling again.

"No. I'd like to try."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Do you think I can do it?"

"Absolutely. I have one hundred percent confidence in you."

"I'm glad someone does."

"Don't think that way, Sean. Have faith in yourself. You and I both know you can do it."

They both got in the truck, and Sean fired it up. He had difficulty backing out of the parking space. The tires spun for a while, and Sean pushed his foot harder on the gas pedal. Suddenly, the tires caught some kind of traction, and the truck flew backwards, far faster than Sean liked. He slammed on the brakes, and that was exactly what Frank had told him not to do. The truck swerved and then slid sideways for a while, barely missing another parked car before it stopped.

"Remember, easy does it," Frank reminded.

"I'm just not any good at this."

"Sure you are. Just proceed slowly."

Cautiously, Sean pushed on the gas pedal, and the truck inched forward. It crept up to the exit, and then turned back onto the highway, wobbling a bit before evening out in the lane. Sean, back to his previous state of hyper-vigilance, went extra slow, and that did the trick. His muscles were knotted with tension, the ones on his back and neck especially, but that was okay. That was a small price to pay. Slowly, they trudged on, despite the gloom and the increasingly slippery slush. Sean wanted to look at the scenery, but he would not turn his eyes away from the road for even an instant. Patience was all he had, and he hoped it would be enough.

An hour later, or what seemed like an hour later, Frank piped up.

"We're making good progress," he said. "We'll be there in plenty of time to catch the ferry."

"Are you sure it's running today," Sean said.

"Yes. I haven't been sitting here idly. The ferry is running on a Christmas schedule, just like every year. I double checked while you were using the restroom at Rusty's."

"Okay," Sean said. "That's a relief."

Sean drove on and on, still with that heightened sense of awareness, not letting himself relax even a little but. But gradually he started to feel worn down. It was odd how quickly he became tired. It had to be the product of his anxiety, of his tensed muscles. Sean felt he wasn't actually working very hard physically, but his mind was starting to get frazzled. His senses heightened considerably when they encountered several turns. All around was heavily forested and quite gloomy. At times, Sean imagined he spied wild animals in the road through the rain, way up ahead, but when he was closer there was nothing to see.

"Frank? Have you seen animals on the road? Like up ahead."

"Yes. There are all sort of critters up in these woods but they know to get out of the way."

"Phew. I thought I was losing my mind."

Frank took ahold of Sean's shoulder and squeezed gently in encouragement.

"You're doing great," he said. "I'm really proud of you."

A broad grin spread out over Sean's face. It felt so good to hear Frank say that. His muscles relaxed a bit, and his heart warmed and warmed, until it was burning with love and gratitude. He wanted to stop the truck and hug Frank right there and then, but he knew he couldn't. Even so, a single tear slid down his cheek, luckily the left one that Frank could not see. Every good feeling was in that tear. Joy, satisfaction, release. Frank was not lying. He was doing a great job, and his fears were flying away.

"How much longer?" Sean said.

"We still have a ways to go."

"Will we make it on time?"

"Don't worry about that. We'll make it with time to spare, God willing and the river don't rise."

"Is there flooding?"

"It's just an expression. We're good."

A time came when the roads were almost completely covered with slush, but there were still ice patches on occasion. Sean now felt restless. He tested driving a little faster, and tested to see if Frank would say anything about it. He didn't, but just when Sean thought it was safe at the increased speed, the truck hit ice and swerved sharply back and forth before correcting itself, with Sean's help. Then he resolved to continue at the slower pace even if it drove him crazy. But a new problem arose when another truck drove up behind them, an even bigger truck than Frank's. The truck was soon tailgating them, and then all the anxiety and the tension rebloomed three fold inside of Sean.

He kept the same steady pace, and tried not to let this new added pressure get to him. It wasn't easy. Frank offered no help, not even a comment. It was all up to Sean and there was nothing to do about it but carry on. He wasn't going to let the guy force him off the road because it was even slushier on the waysides, and he didn't know that he could get back on the road if he left it. After a while, the truck behind seemed to have had enough, and moved to the opposite lane to pass. Sean didn't cut his gaze to look at the truck go by, but there was a low chuckle from Frank soon afterward.

"What's so funny?"

"The guy flipped us the bird. What a dumbfuck."

It was the strongest language Sean had heard yet from Frank, and he had a little chuckle himself. It amazed him that Frank wasn't angry, only amused. The big guy knew when to keep his cool.

Snatches of the dark blue waters showed through the greenery periodically. Sean wanted to stop and see, but he didn't want to take the risk. So he drove the same as always, cautiously slow, and it was much easier now, with no surprises until they got a couple of miles further. There, stuck in a slush filled ditch by the side of the road, stood the truck that had passed them before. A blond young man, wet and dirty from head to foot, was leaning on it with downcast eyes.

"Slow down and come to a stop behind that truck," Frank said.

"Do we have time?"

"Quit asking that. I'll let you know if we're short on time."

Sean did as he was instructed, then Frank popped out of his truck. Sean joined him. The blond guy, young, reedy, with the air of a country bumpkin, went red in the face when he saw Frank. He gulped several times as Frank approached.

"Nice mess you got yourself into," Frank said. "That's what comes of going too fast in bad weather conditions."

"I'm sorry," the blond said.

"Don't be sorry. Learn your lesson, boy."

"Yessir."

He gulped again, several times, and Sean didn't blame him. Frank was very big and his attitude was very stern.

"Let's see if we can pull you out. Engine still running?"

"Yessir."

"Why aren't your emergency lights on, boy? Best fix that right away."

"Yessir, I will."

Frank walked beside the blond's truck, assessing the situation, while the kid switched on his hazard lights. He went to his own truck, got in and did a circle, until the butt of his truck was facing the butt of the blond kid's truck. Then he fished around in the cab and pulled out a strange, coiled rope, made of what looked like red plastic. This he unwound, and then he hitched the end around the ball mount to his truck, and did the same thing with the other end of the cable to the ball mount on the kid's truck. He went up to the kid.

"Put her in neutral, and straighten the wheel. I'm going to try to pull you out."

The kid mumbled something, and then Frank got back in his truck and slowly pulled forward until the rope was taut, and he could go no further. The truck's tires spun in the slush.

"Hey Sean, I need some help," Frank shouted.

Already out of his truck, Sean knew Frank wanted him to drive.

"Now listen," he said. "I'm going to push the kid's truck. I want you to accelerate slowly, but build up a little if it needs it. If that truck comes loose, remember to pull forward until it brakes. We don't need an accident."

"Alright," Sean said.

"Remember, you got this. Just be careful."

With that, he left, and talked to the kid again, probably giving him instructions as well. In the side mirror, Frank could be seen plunging into the slush. A few moments later, Frank yelled that he was ready. Nervous again, but determined, Sean pressed gently on the accelerator. The tires spun again, and he pressed harder and harder. Then, all at once, he was speeding forward. The truck behind him had come loose, and flew into the road behind him. He pressed the brake too hard, and was certain that he would slide, but he the truck came to an easy stop. The other truck wasn't so graceful. It slid in the slush, slowing down but not soon enough. It tapped the rear end of Frank's truck before coming to a complete stop.

In the side mirror Sean saw Frank emerge from the slush, soaking wet.

"Move forward a little," he yelled at Sean.

When there was space again between the two trucks, Frank moved in and he was apparently inspecting the damage. Sean got out of the truck and joined him. Frank's face, especially his blue eyes, normally so bright, looked hard. Sean saw no dents himself, but what did he know? His curiosity was strong, though. He wondered what Frank would do, and in a moment, Frank went back to the kid's truck and had a few words.

"What's your name?" Frank said.

"Jared."

"Well, Jared, there's no damage. You got lucky."

"Thank God."

"Don't thank God. Thank me, boy. If we hadn't happened along your ass would still be stuck in that truck, probably for hours."

"Thanks," Jared said, in a tremulous voice.

"Be more careful from now on!"

"I will. I'm sorry I flipped you off before."

"I'm sorry you did, too, boy. If I was your father I'd whip those jeans right down and give you an ass whooping you wouldn't soon forget."

"Yessir."

"If I see you driving like that again, I'll do it anyway. Understand me?"

"Yessir."

"Good. Get going now. Don't let me catch you on the side of the road again."

"Yessir. I'm very sorry."

Frank apparently had no more to say because he simply waved for the kid to move on, and a moment later he headed back to his truck. Sean hopped in, too, and they were off again. It took a few miles for Frank to notice the broad smile covering Sean's face.

"You look happy." he said.

And that did it. Sean could no longer repress his laughter. It burst out in fits and gales.

"What's so funny?"

"The look in that kid's eyes when you threatened to spank him. He was scared shitless."

"Damn right!" Frank said.

"Would you really do it? Spank a stranger?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Sean."

"Oh, I do," Sean agreed.

Then he went quiet. His heart was suddenly fluttering, and his dick was stretching out at top speed in his shorts. He was thinking not of the blond kid, Jared, but of himself, laying ass up over Frank's lap, the big man administering furious slaps to his naked bottom. There was nothing like the thought, and even more so the reality, of Frank going into beast mode. Sean still didn't entirely understand why it made him so horny, but he accepted it. Despite lingering trepidation over driving in slushy conditions, he reached over and gave Frank's thigh a squeeze.

The big guy grunted. His jeans were soaking wet, but his body was somehow warm. Sean's hand swooped again, landing on Frank's crotch, on his big basket. A gentler squeeze this time, a goading squeeze. Frank did not grunt this time. He reacted verbally.

"There's a trail up ahead on the left, with a little parking lot."

"Do we have time?"

"Plenty of it."

Unable to resist, Sean groped Frank again and again before he found the slushy parking lot Frank had spoken of. He was sure to get wet, sure to get cold, but he did not care. Nothing would stop him from being with Frank one last time. He parked, hopped out, and paid no mind when his feet plunged into the slush. Frank was out, too, and he bid Sean to follow him down a path, mushy with wet snow. All around the trees were drooping and dripping away the white, huge evergreens, cedars, firs, and spruces who'd obviously seen and survived many a rough storm.

The trail rose a bit, and it was slippery. Sean struggled to keep on his feet, but he was determined. Finally. They came to a fork in the path, and Frank chose the narrower one that went to the right. The big man seemed to know the area as well as he knew the woods around his cabin. They kept going for a bit, met another fork, and then they came upon the largest tree Sean had yet seen, a truly gigantic red cedar, it's scales drooping in waves, like heavy, dark Spanish lace. Here Frank stopped. He turned so he could receive Sean, who walked right into his arms.

Frank's hands quickly moved down to his ass, cupping the cheeks and then kneading them hungrily, and Sean thrust his erection against Frank's granite firm thigh. In moments they were fiddling with each other's belts, and when they came free, they were pushed down along with pants and underwear. Frank lifted Sean to turn him around, and then the smaller man bent over, a movement like a residual instinct, like Frank's hens when they saw his giant rooster George approaching. Sean was braced for a rough mounting, and Frank didn't disappoint. The harsh sound of Frank spitting, a wet finger shoved into his ass, and then Frank's big, thick cock, soaring up inside of him to the hilt with one big push.

He was brutal, just as Sean wanted him to be. Just as Sean needed him to be. That fat cock took absolute possession of his ass, again and again, punching up inside so deep, so hard that it took Sean's breath away. Within a minute he felt that incredible tightening, way down low, at the base of his dick, behind his balls, and the tension quickly spread forward until his dick was tipped on the very edge, and Frank's unrelenting cock punched in again and sent his toes curling and his hole clenching as Sean blasted out a hands free load, liquid jets like pellets from a shotgun, piercing the slush below. Sean roared into the wilderness, his semen torn from his balls, his ass spiked repeatedly on the fat, driving cock, and then he couldn't stop cumming, and Frank had no mind to let him. He pulled Sean's shimmering body upward and his tongue shot into Sean's ear, and it was several moments later that Sean came back down to earth, because Frank had sent his mind into blissful oblivion.

"Good boy," Frank growled.

His tongue pulled out, and Frank pushed Sean forward again. He was not done. His big paws, hooked like iron around Sean's hips, pulled the younger man tight onto his cock, and then he started plowing again with even more ferocity. His loins crashed into Sean's rear end, sliding him forward a few inches in the slippery slush with each lunge, and Sean felt like a rag doll, a play thing for a kingly beast who had chosen to bestow him with his ardor. Two or three minutes later, Sean felt the tension again, the tingling. It started in his balls this time, but quickly spread out from there. Sean reached for his dick, impatient for another orgasm, but Frank admonished him.

"No hands, boy."

And those words were enough to do it, because they confirmed that Frank wanted him to cum without even touching his cock, and somehow it heightened Sean's arousal. He dropped his hands, certain that he didn't need them, certain that he would obey Frank's every command forever if he could, and then Frank got even rougher and Sean squirted again. Weaker than before, but only slightly. His whole body quaked with the orgasm this time, and his hole squeezed tightly around that fat cock every time it rammed home.

"Good boy!" Frank shouted.

Frank sounded pleased, and Sean felt so proud, so lucky. If he could stay with Frank he would always be the woman during sex, and there would never afterward be a need for him to touch himself to get off if Frank forbid it. Frank would take care of the orgasms for both of them with his mighty, driving cock alone, and Sean so longed to make these thoughts a reality. He would be Frank's woman if he was asked, forever. He didn't tell Frank, but he would do absolutely anything the big guy demanded, no matter how difficult, no matter how depraved. And it would be a good life, a great life, and even though Frank was still inside of him, battering away, Sean already missed him, mourned for the inevitability of losing him.

Still Frank fucked him, punching in hard and deep, and then Frank slowed down, and one of his hands went to Sean's belly, sliding upward and pulling Sean again into a more erect stance. The big man was kissing his neck, fondling his chest and nipples as he plowed into his butt, and Sean felt that tingling again, but only faintly. He was a long way off from another orgasm, or so he thought. Frank's hand edged down his belly again and took Sean's penis in a firm grip. After being neglected for so long, Sean gasped when it was touched, and he knew immediately that he would cum for the third time. His balls felt squeezed like his dick, ready to force out another load.

That big, rough hand was not gentle on his tender flesh. He could feel every bump, every crease and callous, and when the hand started sliding back and forth, he groaned. Frank was still pounding away, practically lifting him off the ground every time he slammed into his hole, and the combination was more than enough. He squirted ferociously through Frank's wringing grip, his body again shaking with the power of the climax. Frank was grunting and rutting away, but after a few moments he shoved in deep and stopped. Deep, guttural grunts filled the air, music to Sean's ears, for he knew Frank was unloading inside of him while he still spewed. It was a perfect symmetry, a perfect circle of life, the seed of the weaker, submissive man spraying uselessly into the sterile air while the more powerful dominant male seeded the well plowed insides of his receptive lover.

Fully impaled on Frank's fat cock, with the chapped hand still moving over his ejaculating flesh, Sean wriggled and writhed, screaming in ecstasy, and again it seemed that he would never stop cumming, even when his balls had nothing left to pump out. Frank held him tight, emptying every last bit of himself into Sean. They stood coupled that way for a long time before Frank finally vacated the plundered hole, and when he did, Sean felt semen, hot like lava, flowing down his left leg. Frank turned him around and kissed him, then brought fingers down to his lips, fingers that were coated with Sean's semen. Sean licked them dry. His own taste was now familiar, thanks to Frank, sweet but not nearly so strong as the taste of Frank.

"That was the best goodbye," Sean said, still panting. "Perfect."

Frank only smiled. His eyes were so bright, so clear a blue, and they glistened as he looked at Sean.

"I'm gonna miss you, buddy."

"Me too," Sean said. "Um, can I say something?"

"Of course."

"Do you eat oysters?"

"Sometimes. Why?"

"You have the strongest libido of anyone I've ever known."

"It's you, Sean. You put me into high gear."

"Your cum is streaming down my leg. How is there so much of it?"

"Like I said, you put me into high gear."

"Do you have a tissue?"

Frank pulled a couple of napkins from his pocket, bent down, and cleaned off Sean's thigh, dabbing and wiping up to his hole. Sean wondered if Frank wanted him to lick it up, and he knew he would if asked, even though he didn't want to. But Frank only wrapped the napkins with another, and then put them in his pocket, for proper disposal, later. Sean knew Frank loved nature, loved the clean earth, and would on no account consent to littering. After a while, Sean hitched up his pants and undies, and realized they were soaking wet. He hadn't even noticed the cold before that.

"We better get going," Frank said.

"Are we going to make it on time?"

"Yes."

"I still have to buy my ticket."

"It's taken care of. I made the call while you were in the bathroom at Rusty's."

Another thing to be grateful for, Sean thought. He was relieved. As they headed back to the truck he took a last look behind at the huge cedar tree, under whose boughs they had said their goodbyes better than they could have with words. It loomed large, dark and somber in the drizzle, its limbs sweeping down then rising up again as if they had thought better of weeping, as if they couldn't bear to touch the ground.

Back at the truck, Frank had Sean drive again.

"See it through," he said, when Sean mentioned he was tired.

The last stretch didn't take so long. Sean's mind was occupied with so many thoughts, so many conflicting emotions, that he barely noticed the time or even what he was doing. Driving in slushy conditions was now second nature to him, almost as easy as driving on a smooth road on a dry, sunny day. They came at last to the terminal, where the ferry waited at the edge of the sea. Far in the distance, across the water, there was land. Sean presumed it to be Vancouver Island.

"Well, this is it," Sean said.

"Yeah," Frank said.

Sean turned to Frank and caught his eyes. They were clear and glistening, giving the big man's face that look of earnest expression Sean loved so well.

"I'm going to miss you," Sean said.

"I'll miss you, too. More than you know."

"A part of me still wishes I could stay with you. I know I can't, but I feel like we really have something. When I'm with you I feel like I'm living in a world of magic. If that makes any sense at all."

"It does."

"I just can't believe I'll never see you again."

"Who said you'll never see me again?" Frank said. "You can visit any time."

"How would I get in contact with you?"

"I have your number, assuming you keep the same one when you replace your phone. And you have mine."

"I do?"

"I may have slipped a little something into your suitcase."

"When? I mean, when can I see you again?"

"Whenever you want. You might feel differently when you get back to your old life."

"I don't think so," Sean said.

"We'll see," Frank said. "Just know that I'm here if you need me. We'll leave it at that."

They got out of the truck, and Frank pulled Sean's suitcase from the cab. Sean took it and handed Frank his keys. Sean set the case down, and went in for a hug that turned into a deep kiss. He did not care if anyone saw, and Frank, he knew, wouldn't give a shit, either. They kissed for a long time, and then Frank gently ended it.

"Merry Christmas," Sean said.

"Go get `em, tiger."

Sean took up his suitcase and headed to the ticket counter. Soon he was walking up the passenger ramp and up onto the ferry. He ran to where he thought he might see Frank, and sure enough, the big man was still there, "seeing it through," as he'd said earlier. His heart was warm and full. He wondered if Frank knew, but then dismissed the idea. How could Frank know those very words, "go get `em, tiger," were words he remembered his father saying to him, so very long ago, when he was a kid and the world was still so bright. The exact words, the exact tone of voice. It really was like magic. Sean, though sad to leave, felt better inside of himself than he had in years.

The ferry's whistle sounded, and then the great water beast started moving. Sean watched as Frank, still standing next to his old truck, grew smaller in the heavy rain, and then he was gone. Rather than mourning his loss, Sean ran to the other side, so he could watch the island before him as they approached. He wasn't sure what the rest of the day would bring. It might be awkward, or maybe not. That was yet to be determined. But he was optimistic. Excited to see his wife, excited to see his kids. Excited to see what life would bring next.

Almost three weeks later, Sean was driving with his son Dean beside him on a crowded Southern California freeway. The sky was cloudless, a strong, clear blue, and it was quite warm out for winter, even in balmy Los Angeles. Dean was sulking. Sean had asked him to do something difficult, and the boy was still resistant. But Sean knew they both had to see it though.

One of the first things he'd done upon returning home from Victoria was to call Rick Smith, the father of Tommy, who was the boy his son had gotten into a fight with while playing a basketball game about a several weeks back. This incident was what created the distance between he and Dean that had so distracted Sean on his disastrous drive up the Olympic Peninsula. Sean had exploded in anger at his son after the game, after the encounter where Rick had nearly attacked him. But soon after arriving back in LA, he had swallowed his pride and admitted to Dean that the reason for his fury had nothing to do with him but rather was a reaction to the fear the muscular man had inspired in Sean himself. And that went a long way toward melting the ice between father and son, because it was something Dean could understand, though it seemed to surprise him to realize that his father was capable of fear.

Now, they were on their way to meet Rick and Tommy, so that Dean could apologize. When he first called Rick, the man was doubtful, even suspicious, but Sean persuaded him. They both, he had said, needed to show a good example for their sons and let bygones be bygones. They both needed to act like adults. It was Rick who chose the meeting place, a miniature golf course. Sean told him it sounded perfect.

It was a Saturday, and late morning, but the weekends never stopped the traffic. Nothing did. It was just a part of living in Los Angeles. It was a good half hour before they took the turn off, and they soon approached the course. It looked like a theme park, like a mini Disneyland. Palm trees everywhere, practically growing out of the concrete sidewalks and the asphalt of the parking lot. On the course itself, the lurid green of artificial turf, like little stretches of grassy ponds out of which grew fake windmills and cottages meant to look quaint but succeeding only in looking out of place. Sean parked before the main pavilion, a much larger but equally artificial looking building, where indoor games of various sorts were played.

"Do I have to apologize?" Dean asked, in that annoying, plaintive voice which is special to children of his age.

"I won't force you, no. But don't you think it's a good idea. In this tough world, it's best to choose your enemies wisely. And your friends."

"I don't want him to be my friend! I hate Tommy!"

"I understand that, son. Nevertheless, I want you to be friendly with him today. Try to smooth things over. I know it's a lot to ask, but life is full of difficult tasks. It's part of growing up and being a man."

"Alright," Dean sighed. "But I'm not letting him win."

"You don't have to."

As they waited for Rick and Tommy to show up, Sean reflected on the past few weeks. Since coming home he had been a very busy man. Not only reestablishing relationships with his family, but with looking for a better job. He'd polished up his resumé and sent it out to several law firms, with inquiries about possible positions that might be available. In no time, word got round to his bosses, and they panicked, offering everything he wanted, including a significant raise and a fast track to partnership, but not more time off. Sean refused the offer. More time off was one of his main goals in looking for a new position. His bosses hemmed and hawed for almost a week, because it meant hiring someone new in addition to giving Sean his raise. But eventually they caved, and then Sean had exactly what he wanted and what he knew he deserved. It was so easy, so effortless, that Sean wondered why he hadn't done it years before. But he knew.

His adventures with Frank had inspired a new confidence in him, a new power. He was no longer much afraid of anything. Fear served its purpose of forewarning, of caution, but on its own it was a paralyzing emotional that kept people from living their best lives. Frank had shown him that. Frank had believed in him, and through that long, dangerous journey over the ice and slush, Sean had finally found a way to believe in himself. Always before there was this place inside of him that knew only fear. A scared little boy, stuck in this dark hole, looking out at the man he'd become and seeing only a fraud going through the motions. Despite all of his heartfelt efforts at being a man, a father, a husband and a provider, at which he'd succeeded, there was always that awful place inside, that sad little boy, that empty feeling nagging at him. But it was gone now as if it had never existed, replaced by a feeling of well being and a willingness to take calculated risks that could pay off. Sean had never felt so in control of his life nor had he ever felt so free.

So when Rick and Tommy drove up, in a flashy sports car, Sean didn't hesitate to greet them, to shake Rick's hand with firmness. The boys were silent, eyeing each other darkly, and Rick looked none too sure of the situation, either. But Sean persisted. He and Dean went in and paid for a game, and then they took their clubs and golf balls, and went to it. It took a while before the boys thawed to each other, just a little, but Rick was a tougher nut to crack. Sean asked him what he did for a living.

"I have a boat dealership," Rick said, with some arrogance.

"Really? Pretty far inland for that."

"I commute. Family owned business. My father owns it, actually. What do you do?"

"Lawyer."

"Hmmm," Rick muttered.

But then an idea seemed to come to him.

"Do you know anything about business law?"

"That's my specialty."

Rick seemed to mull this over for a while. On the course, Tommy made a successful putt, and then Dean did the same. Both looked pleased with themselves. When it was Sean's turn, he purposefully missed.

"Bum deal," Rick said.

Rick made his putt, and smiled in triumph. Sean watched him walk back, gave him the once over. Muscular, yes, and not bad looking, but Sean couldn't shake the idea that the guy was on steroids after his extreme burst of anger at the basketball game where Dean and Tommy had fought. But he decided to push the thought aside as unnecessary and uncharitable.

"Do you think you could look something over for the dealership?" Rick asked, after a while.

"Sure."

"We're facing a lawsuit. We have guys looking at it, but it never hurts to get a second opinion."

"I'd be happy to help."

Sean pulled out his wallet and handed Rick a business card. When he putted again he could see Rick out of the corner of his eye sizing him up.

"You're in damn good shape," Rick said.

"So are you."

"I try. Not much time for it with the kids and work. But I do my best."

"That's all any of us can do."

The next hole required a shot into one of the fake windmills. Tommy went first, and as luck would have it, his ball went through the thing, exited through a pipe, and bounced directing into the cup. A hole in one. Tommy cheered and Rick cheered him on.

"Great job, Tommy!" Sean said, with enthusiasm.

"I was skeptical about this," Rick turned and said. "But I'm glad we came. You're alright."

"You too, Rick. I'm glad we got the chance to show each other a better side of ourselves."

Rick smiled again. He was a bit of a meat head, but yes, he was handsome. Nothing even close to Frank, though, not for Sean. He hadn't spent much time thinking of Frank in recent days. What happened between them seemed like a dream, and got farther away as time progressed. But it gave him an inner chuckle to think of Frank taking Rick down a few pegs, to think of Frank handing Rick his ass back hot. Sean knew he had to turn his mind away from those thoughts, and quickly, but he was beaming and he was sure Rick thought it was because of him.

As the game progressed, he and Rick developed a rapport, and so did Dean and Tommy, who now joked and laughed with each other. Tommy was winning, but Dean was right at his heels. A couple of times Sean caught sideways glances from Rick, and that got his mind to thinking, but he could not say for sure if the man was only still appraising him or if it was something more. He decided to push that out of his mind, too, because it didn't really matter. Sean was with his wife, still fully committed, through thick and through thin, even though he now saw things a little differently when it came to men.

Just as he was about to putt at the last hole in the course, Sean's phone vibrated. He made a quick putt, intentionally missing, and then excused himself. When he pulled the phone out of his pocket, he saw the number, saw the area code, and knew it was Frank. His heart started beating significantly faster in an instant, and he collected himself before he answered. He hadn't spoken to Frank since they said goodbye at the ferry.

"Frank," he said. "I was just thinking about you."

"Good thoughts, I hope."

The effects were immediate. Frank's voice alone brought it all back. Despite the days and miles that stood between them, despite the fact that everything had changed, Sean felt an enormous charge pass through him that ended in his crotch. His cock stiffened rapidly, so rapidly that it left him off kilter.

"You there, buddy?"

"Yeah. Sorry. It was just hearing your voice again."

"I know what you mean," Frank said with a chuckle. "Look, I just wanted to let you know they finally got around to towing the rental car today. Everything is taken care of."

"I never had any doubts."

"Hope everything is going well."

"It's going great. I'm in the middle of something, but I will give you a call when I can."

"Sure thing."

Frank hung up. Sean paused and collected himself again. He thought his hard-on was reasonably well contained by his briefs, but he'd be goddamned if Rick's eyes weren't laser focused on his crotch when he returned. Suddenly, a loud noise erupted, and Rick finally tore his eyes away as the boys hooped and hollered, and jumped up and down. Tommy had won on the course, but it was Dean who'd managed the impossible and made the shot to win a free game. The boys were even now, and everyone knew it, and they both looked supremely happy, and nothing else in the world mattered in that moment, because the kids wanted to play another round.