I was leaning on the pasture fence, staring out at . . . well, nothing, I guess, when Bucklin came up behind me, put his arms around me and kissed me behind my left ear."Deep thoughts?" he asked.
I shook my head, then leaned it back onto his shoulder. "Nah, just . . ." my voice trailed off. How could I put all the contentment I felt into words?
"Happy?"
I allowed a small smile to appear. "Yeah, that'll do." I wrapped my arms around his and let him pull me back fully to rest against him.
"It's about time," he huffed out with a small laugh.
I didn't reply, just allowed myself to relax against his big frame. We'd become, for lack of a better term, a triple, back in June, the first day of Summer. Bucklin, Chris and I. Today was the first day of Fall, making it our three month anniversary.
"Weather's startin' to change," I offered.
He raised his head from where it'd been resting on mine to look across at the aspen trees on the high reaches. The greens were just starting to turn gold up high, but the oak brush lower down was making good progress towards the dark reds they spent the fall in.
"Time to start puttin' up some wood for the fire," he said, pulling me even tighter against him. "I surely do love that fireplace."
I couldn't help but grin. Buck's favorite way to spend an evening was naked in front of the fireplace, watching football on the wide-screen TV me and him'd bought Chris for his birthday.
"You surely do love anything that has us rolling around on the floor together," Chris' voice came from behind us.
I ducked my head to peer sideways past Buck as he twisted his head to the other side to spot our third. Chris was still in his suit pants, but the jacket and tie were missing, and his shirt was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. He strode up and stood beside us, putting an arm around both. "Happy anniversary, boys," he said quietly as he hugged us.
Buck and I managed to unwind from each other to include Chris in our embrace. Soft kisses were exchanged all around, both to welcome Chris back from town, and to affirm the feelings between us.
After a couple of minutes Chris pulled back enough to say, "We going to get anything done this evening?"
"Horses are fed and put up," Buck replied, then returned to nuzzling my neck.
"Pot of chili's simmering on the back burner," I added, then latched onto Chris' right earlobe, making him shiver.
"Plenty of wood for the fireplace?" Chris managed to gasp out as one of Buck's hands played its way from his chest to his groin.
Buck groaned. "I understand now why you're the boss, Chris. You could micro-manage an ant to death. This," his firm hand on Chris' cock made the man groan, "is all you need to manage, micro or not, for the rest of the weekend. Me and Vin got everything else under control."
I couldn't help but grin at that. Buck and I teased Chris constantly about his control issues. About the only thing he didn't take control of was who was doing what to whom when we made love. Except to make sure that we were all getting something, something that none of us were shy of asking, or taking, for ourselves.
I asked, "You boys want to take this inside? Or are we going to give the Santiagos another free show?"
Chris' light skin gave us an immediate fireworks show. He turned red so fast that he coulda hid in the oak brush without any camo. See, we'd been out clearing out some undergrowth on the hillside one Saturday afternoon a couple weeks ago. The heat had really set in, hence the need to clear area in case of brush fires. Well, one thing led to another and . . . wait. Let me start again. Buck led Chris over to the shallow stream at the base of the hillside and proceeded to explore the joys of outdoor sex. I followed the sounds I heard and saw them, Buck buried root-deep in Chris' ass, and Chris coming for all he was worth, hollering at the top of his lungs. Buck, not to be outdone, was yelling "Ride 'em, bareback!" Unfortunately the Santiagos' eldest boy came over the ridge about that same time and heard and saw everything.
Long story short? We promised to keep our . . . antics, as Mrs. Santiago put it, indoors, and she promised not to shoot our balls off next time we showed our faces at her door. She was kiddin' of course, but not before Buck dropped at her feet when his knees gave out. Chris and I musta laughed ourselves sick at the sight of him, laid out on the floor and Mrs. Santiago fanning him, laughing herself, and plying him with her special lemonade - the one she makes with tequila.
Buck pulled back off of Chris like he'd been snake bit. "I think that's a right good idea, Vin. C'mon." He grabbed one of my hands and one of Chris' and headed towards the house. Chris and I just shared a grin. A motivated Bucklin was a sight to behold.