Cowboy Christmas, Ch Cowboy Christmas
Chapter three
By John Yager
This is a work of gay erotic fiction. If such stories are not to your liking or if you are not allowed access to such stories under the laws under which you live, please exit now.
Last spring I posted a story titled Cowboy Blues. Many of you have written asking if I'd continue the story. Until now, I've not been inclined to add to it, but with Christmas upon us, I decided to add another chapter to the saga of Jake and Tom. I hope it brings some cheer to y our holiday season.
I want to express very special thanks to Andrew, who has again done proofing and editing for me.
All stories which I have posted on NIFTY can be found by looking under my name in their Prolific Authors lists.
This work is copyright © by the author and may not be copied or distributed in any form without the expressed written permission of the author.
I may be contacted at: jvoyager@hotmail.com
It was almost nine o'clock on Friday evening and Tom had only gotten home from the labs half an hour earlier. He was looking forward to the weekend. Jed, his apartment mate and fellow veterinary school classmate, was spending the next two days with his girlfriend and her family at their home in Houston. Tom intended to use the time and the privacy to get ahead with his studies. He had a research project which needed to be completed before the Christmas holidays and if he could make some progress on it he could relax for the rest of the semester. Well, not really relax. Veterinary school was demanding, but he'd have rid himself of a major load.
The apartment was cool. Both he and Jed liked it that way. They kept the thermostat set on 65 and the cool air felt good on his bare skin as he stepped naked from a steaming shower and stood drying himself off.
Tom's honed body glowed from the rubbing he gave it, roughly dragging the rough towel over his smooth chest and then, one end in each hand, pulling it back and forth over his shoulders, down over his back, and finally over his muscular rear.
As the steam cleared from the mirror the reflected image of himself gave him pleasure. At twenty-two, he was an amazing looking guy. His tousled hair was light brown but lighter still where the sun had bleached it in streaks.
His balls, relaxed by the heat of the shower, hung low and loose. His cock was extended to nearly its full length, but it was relaxed, not at all hard. Tom grasped it through the towel and gave it a few strokes, drying it but, in the process, becoming a little aroused. Nice, he thought, wondering why he'd not gotten off in the shower, as he often did, but thinking he'd enjoy his privacy later, lying naked on his bed.
It was at that point that he heard the phone ring. He walked quickly to his bedroom, picking up the receiver on the third ring.
"'Lo", he said, a little breathless.
"Tom?"
He recognized the deep, rich voice at once and fell back against the pillows, stretching out full length on the bed. The damp towel slipped from his hand into a heap on the floor.
"Jake!"
"Hey, fellow," Jake said from two hundred miles away. His voice was a little shaky, a little unsure, but he covered it, making himself sound relaxed and confident.
"I was hoping to hear from you," Tom said, placing his left hand up behind his head as he grasped the phone receiver with his right. "Did you get my note?"
"Sure did," Jake said, still making an effort to sound relaxed and jovial. "Sounds like you miss life on the Lazy Pitcher."
"Yeah," Tom chuckled. "The ranch is great, but it's you guys I really love."
His response was greeted by a long pause and he was afraid he'd gone too far. Use of the word love was probably not wise under the circumstances.
After several seconds, though, Jake said, "well, yeah, we love you too." Tom relaxed. Maybe he'd not alarmed Jake after all. "Seriously, you want to come for Christmas," the older of the two went on.
The rich sounds of Jake's voice were filling Tom with an increasing desire to see him again. His body was responding without his even knowing it until his turgid cock flipped up against his belly and began to pulse to the rhythm of his heart.
"Yeah, Jake, I'd really like that, if it wouldn't be a problem."
"I think it sounds great." It had taken Jake a while to come to that conclusion, but once he'd done so, he wasn't reticent to say so.
"Will your sister and her kids be there?"
"Yep, and we'll be using the big house."
"I can stay in the bunkhouse, Jake, if it's a problem."
"NO," Jake said, realizing as soon as the word was out of his mouth, that he'd spoken with more emphasis than was wise. "There's plenty room. Even with five of us, there will be bedrooms to spare. In fact, Susan's kids can each have a room to themselves, if they want."
"What ages are they, Jake."
"Susan's kids? Laura is seven and Ricky is almost six."
"I'd like to bring them a couple of little gifts, if that would be okay."
"Sure, Tom, but nothing extravagant."
"Just something simple."
"Sure, they'll love it. When do you think you'll come?"
"I can come on the nineteenth, if that's okay. I'll drive up after my last classes so it would be into the evening by the time I got there."
"Sure, that would be fine. I think Susan and the kids will get here the next day, Saturday."
Tom moved his left hand from behind his head and slowly stroked muscular chest.
"What do you guys have planned for Christmas dinner? Maybe I can bring something."
"It's all under control," Jake said. He sensed the gradual relaxation of his own voice and the sultry, sexy tone which had been creeping into Tom's. "Don't bring anything, just get yourself here."
"Are you doing a turkey?"
"Are you volunteering?"
"What?"
"You know, turkey," Jake chuckled. "Are you wanting to get done?"
Tom sat up in bed, and looked across the room at his startled expression reflected in the mirror over his dresser. This was definitely not the conversation he'd expected to have with Jake.
"What?" The kid sounded dazed.
"What?" Jake replied, throwing the question back at him.
"Look, Jake, I know what you said last summer. I'm not coming to the ranch with any expectations of anything happening between us."
"Really?" Jake said. He was beginning to enjoy this.
"Well, I mean I don't want to put any pressure on you."
"Oh."
"I mean, I understand where you were coming from last summer."
"Yeah?"
"I remember that last conversation we had in the barn."
"I remember it, too." Now Jake was silently chuckling to himself.
"I mean, you were pretty emphatic, Jake." Tom was silent for a moment but Jake said nothing. "I mean," Tom began again, "I guess I sort of made a fool of myself. I made you an offer and you turned it down." He was silent again, and again Jake didn't reply. "I guess I sort of overstepped the bounds. You were kind about it, Jake, but you did let me know that wasn't what you wanted . . . I mean, I wasn't what you wanted."
"So does that mean your offer has been withdrawn?"
Now Tom really was shocked.
"No, I didn't mean that. I mean . . ."
"Yeah?"
"I mean . . . Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you teasing me? Are you pulling my leg?"
"I'll be looking for you on the nineteenth, fellow."
And with that the line went dead.
Jake had hung up but Tom continued to sit straight up in his bed, staring at the shocked expression on his own face. Only when the phone began to buzz in his ear did he realize he was still holding the receiver.
Had Jake really suggested what he seemed to be suggesting? Tom had never given up hoping, of course, but when he'd written Jake, asking if he could spend Christmas at the Lazy Pitcher, he did so more out of desperation than out of any real hope.
He longed to see Jake again, even if it was just on Jake's terms, terms which Tom assumed excluded anything other than friendship. Now, for the first time in months, he began to think there might be a chance for something more.
Tom bolted from his bed and pulled on a clean pair of shorts and a sweatshirt. He went into the kitchen and made a big pot of coffee. From the kitchen he went to his desk to turned on his computer.
Suddenly it seemed all the more urgent to get his research project done, and he was fired up with new resolve to work on it all weekend. He wanted to be sure he could relax over Christmas.