Saddle Up by CJ Bishop
CHAPTER 15
“The Watcher”
There were things Heff needed to know—an explanation from Garland about the past events—and maybe he should insist Garland tell him before this went any further. But he didn’t have the strength—of mind or body—to stop it, or even put it on pause. Everything hurt so much right now, and he just wanted to escape. Maybe it would mean nothing to Garland and, like before, he would block Heff from his life when it was all over. Heff was willing to take that chance. In this new painful reality of life, he understood that from now on, he would have to grab bits of “happiness” wherever and whenever they were presented to him.
Like right now.
Why fight it? He loved Garland… he accepted that fact, regardless of how much it hurt. For a little while, as Garland held him in his arms and took all that Heff offered, he could pretend—like before—that the cowboy loved him, too.
Love… you…
Words spoken in delirium yet packing a punch. Whomever those words were meant for… it wasn’t Heff. Only in his fantasies had Garland confessed love for him. That night in Garland’s room, Heff had been honest about his love for the man. Garland had not returned the sentiment, even in the throes of passion… and certainly not afterward.
Neither of them spoke now as Garland stripped away his briefs and drew Heff beneath him, kissing his mouth, neck, throat. His fingers trembled as he loosened the buttons on the flannel shirt, spreading it open, exposing Heff’s naked form. Garland shuddered and flattened his palms on the young man’s body, caressing his warm skin.
Heff tingled and shivered beneath his touch—a touch so familiar though he hadn’t felt it in years. Still, the memory had remained so close to the surface that he wasn’t able to forget. A memory so readily revived.
Replaying their first night together, Garland moved down Heff’s body, kissing and tasting him. Heff tensed in sweet anticipation as if experiencing his first time all over again. In some ways, he felt like a virgin again… maybe because Garland had been his first—and his last. The most he’d done with other men since then was kiss, and not much of that. He’d had plenty of opportunities—gay men seemed to find him cute and adorable—but he could never close the deal, his heart and mind racing back to Garland every time.
Heff gasped softly when Garland took him in hand, stroking him in long, full strokes, slow and firm. His hips arched as his shoulders pressed down against the bunk, head tilting back, lips parting to release a low – “Uuuhh…” The tender moans grew longer and louder when Garland touched his mouth to the young man’s pulsing shaft, licking him slowly from base to tip. Heff clutched the blankets, his entire body tensing as the man swirled his tongue around the plump head—then took him in his mouth, drawing his throbbing flesh deep into his throat.
Heff cried out and his hands went to Garland’s head, fingers burrowing into his hair, gripping his strands as he raised his hips—again and again—rocking in rhythm to the man’s sucking strokes. It seemed only seconds and he was right there… ready to release. His quick, sharp breaths alerted Garland how close he was. He didn’t stop—but sucked him harder, stroked him faster with his skilled mouth. Heff wailed and bucked his hips, squirting his load down his lover’s throat.
“Mmm…” Garland moaned and kept sucking… not hard… his mouth massaging Heff’s sensitive, pulsing member, keeping him semi-erect. He slowly pulled off Heff, wet his fingers with saliva, and very gently inserted a single digit inside the boy as he resumed sucking him.
“Uuhh—uuhh!” Heff gasped—then cried out when Garland found the spot and massaged it with his fingertip… then two fingertips. Heff’s shaft swelled in the man’s mouth… stretching and thickening as Garland inserted a third finger and continued working his prostate. Their first time around he had introduced Heff to his prostate—but hadn’t been this thorough. Heff was caught in a moment of shock and awe when he suddenly came again, the orgasm intense, wrenching the air from his lungs.
Garland released him, allowing Heff a moment to catch his breath. He kissed Heff’s trembling thighs, his quivering stomach, working his way up Heff’s hyper-sensitive body until he was hovering over the top of him. He kissed Heff on the mouth, capturing his tongue, sucking it into his own mouth. Heff whimpered breathlessly and opened his legs, his inner thighs clamping the man’s flanks. Garland rolled his hips, rubbing his steel-hard erection on Heff’s member.
The kiss pulled apart, Heff’s tongue sliding from the man’s mouth. “Now…” Heff moaned, pleading. “Fuck me… now…”
…………………………………….
Fully aware he had no more right to Heff now than he had five years ago, Garland was too far gone to consider the right and wrong of what he was doing. He could barely breathe, he wanted Heff so badly—his fatigued system temporarily rejuvenated by a surge of sexual adrenaline.
He wet his shaft with saliva and slipped one hand beneath Heff, flattening his palm against the boy’s lower back, lifted him a bit… and slowly squeezed into his body.
“Huh!” Heff shuddered hard and grabbed Garland’s free arm as he leaned forward, planting his hand on the bunk next to the boy’s head. Heff gasped and whimpered, his short nails gouging Garland’s forearm.
His head tilting back, Garland let out a hard breath. “Fuck…” Shivers swept through him as he pushed deeper inside Heff. He felt exactly the same… the tightness… the slight resistance of his body… as if he’d never been fucked before. Garland knew different… and wondered how long it had been since the young man last had sex. As long as Garland? Not likely.
When Garland sank down on top of Heff, the boy wrapped around him—just like that first night—and pulled him into a passionate, hungry kiss. Garland began with slow thrusts but the urgency in Heff quickly dialed up the pace. The boy was starving—and he wasn’t alone.
They kept perfect rhythm as the intensity between them heightened with each hard thrust of Garland’s hips. Heff clawed his back, the boy’s lean body pumping against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. The bunk rattled precariously beneath them. Neither cared; if it broke it broke.
Heff’s cries ricocheted through the small cabin alongside Garland’s ragged groans and grunts and panting. The boy dug his nails in deeper, his breath coming faster, erratic. “Uh-uh—I’m-I’m gonna cum-I’m gonna cum—fuck me—don’t stop-don’t stop!”
Shoving his face into Heff’s neck, Garland crushed him in his arms and fucked him wildly. It wasn’t necessary to take Heff in hand to get him the rest of the way—his cock pulsed between them, wetting their stomachs, ready to burst.
“Oh fuck, Heff…” Garland rasped thickly. “Cum, baby—fucking cum now! I can’t hold it!” He hammered the boy’s ass, losing all control.
“Fuuuck!” Heff wailed—and shot ropes of cum all over them both.
Garland shoved in deep and unloaded. His throat clenched tight as his body locked up, pumping Heff full of his hot seed. He suddenly gasped hard, thrust a few more times, then collapsed, half on the bunk, half on Heff. The adrenaline abruptly gone from his system, he hardly had strength to shift off the boy. Fatigue and exhaustion snatched him away before he or Heff could say a word to each other.
Maybe that’s best, he thought incoherently as he faded out.
……………………………….
Though utterly spent and barely able to hold his eyes open, Heff didn’t pass out with the cowboy. He was neither upset nor surprised that Garland dropped off so quickly. The man was still weak from being caught out in the storm. Honestly, Heff was surprised he performed so vigorously. He worried that maybe it was too much exertion for Garland too soon. Or maybe the exertion would help him sleep more deeply and fitfully.
Heff turned on his side facing Garland and pulled the covers up to the man’s shoulders. They were both sweaty now; this was a bad time to get chilled. Heff grabbed the extra blanket and left the bunk, wrapping it around his naked body. He added more wood to the fire; enough to hold it over in case Heff fell asleep as well, which he would. Maybe he wasn’t as bad off as Garland, but the storm had wreaked havoc on his system as well and fatigue was setting in fast.
Returning to the bunk, Heff burrowed beneath the covers and curled up to Garland’s heated body. At least he wasn’t cold anymore.
Laying his head on Garland’s chest, Heff listened to his rapid heartbeat. He wanted to believe that what happened between them meant more to Garland than simply a means of release. But come morning… would the past repeat itself? If it did… would Heff regret tonight?
No… I won’t. As he’d come to understand earlier—he had to grab those bits of happiness and fulfillment where he could get them, even if they were just fleeting moments in time.
He closed his eyes when tears began to well up. Crying didn’t change anything. The rivers of tears he cried for his parents didn’t bring them back. And though he would cry more rivers for Mandy and Frank… it wouldn’t bring them back, either. Crying for Garland’s love wouldn’t make the man love him if it wasn’t in his heart to do so. So, why cry at all?
There didn’t seem to be an answer. Still, the tears would come… over and over… throughout the rest of his life. He would continue to cry for his parents… for Mandy and Frank… for Garland.
The inevitable tears slipped from beneath his lashes now, trickling down onto Garland’s chest as the same fatigue and exhaustion that took Garland out… came for Heff as well.
Rather than slipping into a peaceful abyss of rest and relaxation, Heff dreamed of last night’s storm… the precursor to the blizzard. The dream wasn’t like most that he had, where he partook of the events. In this dream, he stood outside of it, watching the events unfold as if watching a movie. He saw himself in bed, the storm raging outside the house, frightening him even in his sleep… then suddenly, he calmed, his fear receding as he fell into a fitful slumber though the storm continued to surge through the night.
Heff remembered waking up refreshed the following morning—this morning—something that never happened after a night storm. He hadn’t given it much thought as there were much more important things to deal with. But now, standing in the shadows of the dream, watching himself sleep peacefully in the dark bedroom, he struggled to puzzle out what it was that had chased away his fears.
As he gazed at the bed, his dream self a mere shadow beneath the covers, another form began to take shape beside him. A figure of a… man… lying still and silent in bed with him. His arm slowly curled around the sleeping boy, drawing him close. He whispered to the boy in the darkness, but Heff couldn’t hear his words.
Time passed unnaturally fast as it often did in dreams, and the storm dissipated as a gray light peeked through the bedroom window. Heff watched the dream man as he slipped out of bed and cast the sleeping boy one last glance, then walked past Heff and out of the room.
The dream masked his face from Heff, casting him in shadow even when the shadows faded from the bedroom. Heff turned and watched him go, disappearing as he entered the hallway as if he were nothing more than an apparition.
Heff opened his eyes as the dream faded away, the low cabin ceiling above him, the fire snapping and crackling… and Garland in a deep sleep beside him. Heff turned his head and stared at the man for a long moment, the dream replaying through his head. Was it just a dream… or his subconscious showing him something he needed to know?
His gaze caressed the sleeping cowboy.
It was you, wasn’t it?
His heartbeat quickened.
You came to my room last night… and stayed with me until the storm passed.
His throat constricted as the man’s face swam before him.
You watched over me until the storm passed.