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|-- ERIK --|
Tuesday morning, September 11th, my mind was awhirl with all that was going on. I was already feeling overwhelmed by all the things I had to do with Tracer gone. In addition, I was truly worried about Shirley – beating cancer is never a given.
I had warned Christine on Monday that starting Tuesday she would have full control of the office and to radio me if I was needed. I also gave Ryan a radio in case he needed anything while stuck in the house. Christine promised me she'd walk over and check on him from time to time. That really relieved my mind a lot – with Will gone, I was afraid Ryan's mood would head south quickly.
Shortly after nine, my mood sunk into a funk as I realized the surgery should have started. A few minutes later, I heard the radio squawk and Ryan's panicked voice. I tried to get him to calm down and say whatever it was clearly, but he couldn't. Instead, I ran for the trailer. I assumed something was wrong with Shirley.
As I cleared the stable, I saw Christine already entering the trailer.
"What's wrong?" I asked, as I ran through the open door.
"Look!" Ryan pointed to the screen.
I stared in disbelief as I watched the two fires streaming out of the towers.
"Two planes! One hit each tower!" Ryan was nearly yelling.
I got on the radio, "Gang, y'all need to come to the trailer."
Moments later Hank, Ezra, Randy and Marty came running through the open doorway one by one.
"I don't know what's going on, but two different planes crashed into the World Trade Center."
For a while, we all stood there in stunned mode. Finally, folks started to settle into chairs or on the floor, and just watched the scene repeating over and over. No one spoke; we just stared in disbelief.
The phone rang and Ryan grabbed the handset.
"Yeah, we're watching it on TV, too," he replied to the caller. "Any word on your mom?"
I figured he must be talking to Will or Tracer.
"We're fine; the whole crew's here in the trailer watching right now. Call us once you have any news on your mom. I love you!"
Then, I knew he was talking to Will.
"Bye," he said, and hung up the phone. "That was Will. No word on the surgery. He wanted to make sure we knew what was going on in New York."
The whole group discussed the events for a while. I figured we needed to get back to work – horses don't understand tragic events, and sitting in the trailer watching it over and over again wasn't going to help the situation.
We'd just gotten started back in the stables when Ryan's voice came over the radio. "Fuckin' hit the Pentagon!" was all I understood.
Again, the entire staff moved at a dead run to the trailer to see what was going on. The stunned astonishment resumed. We sat huddled together for support. As before, we watched the screen repeating the video of the planes crashing into the towers, then the video of the fire raging at the Pentagon, and finally, the collapse of the two towers.
Just after eleven, I figured it was time to get everyone back to work when the phone rang.
"Hello," Ryan answered. He listened intently, periodically saying, "Uh-huh".
I waited impatiently. Finally, he said, "Goodbye" and hung up.
"The surgery is over and she's in recovery at this point. The doctor feels it was a complete success, but they have to analyze the tissue to make sure. They didn't see anything else that would indicate the cancer had spread beyond the one lump."
I let out a huge sigh of relief. I looked at Ryan and he was crying.
"I know. One good thing today," I said.
"So, Shirley's going to be OK?" Marty asked.
"Yeah. It sounds like she is," Ryan said, with a smile starting to break out on his face.
"I'm gonna get back to work," Ezra said.
"I think that's a good idea for all of us," I replied.
"I don't wanna be alone," Ryan said.
"We'll wheel you to the office and you can annoy Christine until she pushes you out the door."
I think everyone on staff went through the motions of work that day, but none of us had our minds focused on the tasks at hand.
That night Ryan and I were sitting down for dinner when the phone rang. I picked up the handset. "Hello."
"Hey, Baby," Tracer said. "How you doing?"
"I'm OK. What about you?"
"Much better," he admitted. "Mom's back in her room and all appears to be well. We're waiting on the test results, but the doctor seemed positive that there was no cancer anywhere else."
"That's great, Baby. How are you doing?"
"I'm tired. Will, Patrick, Dad and I are at a restaurant down the street from the hospital. No visitors during the dinner hour. Plus, it gives us time to relax for a moment."
"How's everyone else doing?"
"Emotionally wiped out, and physically tired, but I think we're all perking up now."
"That's understandable," I replied.
"How are you?" Tracer asked.
"About like you, physically and emotionally drained. Between worry about your mom and this morning's nightmare, I don't think I can handle much more right now."
"Yeah, I'm trying to catch up on all the news – I'll worry about it later tonight I guess."
"That's probably best," I agreed. "The news is pretty gloomy. At least you two drove, so you can come home as soon as you like. I doubt there are going to be any flights real soon."
"Yeah, that's true."
"Speaking of which, and I'm not trying to rush you…"
"I don't know yet," Tracer cut me off. "I did talk to Will about it a bit. I'm thinking we'll drive home this weekend, if that's OK."
"Of course that's OK. I miss you and I know Ryan misses Will, but you need to be there for your folks."
"Yeah, and Patrick needs to head back to school soon - it's easier for Will and me to stay and help out."
"No problems. We miss you both – but we understand completely," I replied. I looked over at Ryan and he nodded his head in agreement. "Is there anything I can do to help out?"
"Naw, we're fine. I just want some dinner and a good night's sleep."
"Well, go ahead and eat, and I'll talk with you later. I love you."
"Love you, too!"
"Bye," Tracer echoed in reply.
I hung up the phone. Ryan and I ate dinner quietly.
The next few days passed slowly. Like the rest of the Nation, we felt the shock of the events that occurred that Tuesday. In addition, Ryan and I were missing our partners. I talked to Tracer daily, and as things improved with his mother's health, his mood also improved.
The crew really helped me out dealing with Ryan. Depending on who had time, different folks took Ryan to his doctors' appointments. The guys volunteered to help me move Ryan from the trailer to the office each day and Christine kept him entertained. That, above all else, was the biggest help – Ryan's mood remained more upbeat than I'd expected while Will was gone.
Saturday's business was very slow. A few groups had canceled their rental plans and the overall volume of drop-in renters was low. By three o'clock, I started sending folks home and asked Ezra to put the "Closed" sign up at the end of the driveway as he left.
I turned off the lights in the office and walked over to the trailer.
"How about getting a shower?" I asked Ryan as I entered the living room. "You can be fresh and clean when Will arrives."
"I'm not that whiff, am I?"
"Well, you didn't get a shower yesterday, so I doubt you're fresh as a daisy," I teased.
"OK," he relented.
I walked over and helped Ryan take his clothing off. Unless he had an appointment or other reason to leave the farm; he usually wore a loose tee shirt and a pair of baggy shorts. Once stripped down, I helped him onto the chair – we continued to use the chair after Janet's stroke of genius. I pushed him over to the kitchen and grabbed the cling wrap which I used to cover his casts. Then I wheeled him to the bathroom and helped him transfer to the stool in the shower stall. I handed him the shower-head and he got the water to suit his tastes. While he washed, I went into his bedroom and got clean clothes.
I was just walking back into the bathroom when I heard the front door open.
"We're home!" I heard Will's voice call out.
"We're in the bathroom," I yelled, in reply.
A moment later Will stuck his head in through the door.
"Getting clean for me?" he giggled.
"Actually, yes," Ryan replied.
"I'll help him," Will offered. "You can go help Tracer unload the truck."
"Deal," I said. I slipped past Will, heading out to the living room as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.
I walked outside and found Tracer loaded down with bags.
"Here, let me carry some of those for you," I offered.
"That would be great," he said.
"I missed you."
"Missed you too. I'm so glad to be home."
"How's your mom today?"
"She's doing well. She started doing exercises at home to help regain strength in her arm."
"That's great. I'm glad everything has turned out so well."
"That she is," I agreed.
"Y'all closed up early today."
"Yeah, we had a few cancellations and the show-up volume was very light today."
"I hope that's not a trend," Tracer's voice sounded concerned.
"Well, we may not rebuild business before the usual fall drop off; but I'm sure things will rebound by the spring."
"I hope so. We've got a big house to pay for. Speaking of which - how's construction going?"
"Burt thinks he'll be done in about three weeks. We can walk through it later, but a lot of the house is actually done. Mostly, he needs to finish the kitchen and baths."
"What are your plans for Ryan?"
"I figured they could use the sofa bed in the den until he can make it up the stairs."
By this point, we'd dropped Will's bags in their room and Tracer was starting to unpack his bags in our room.
"What about dinner tonight?" Tracer asked.
"I figured we'd go to the steak house."
"I can cook."
"Naw, you're tired. Besides, I think it will be good for Ryan to get out. We'll get him in and out of the restaurant in the wheelchair. I am looking forward to some good home cooking once things settle down. In fact, we probably need to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning. I'm going to get a quick shower before dinner."
"Sounds good, I'm looking forward to the day we're back in the house; I want to be able to shower with you."
I slipped out of the room and got a quick shower. Everyone else was ready to go by the time I finished getting dressed.
Dinner was a subdued affair. We all talked about the week's events, but only to a limited amount. Mostly, it was quiet family chatter.
Once we got home, Will and Ryan said their goodnights. Tracer and I carried Ryan into their bedroom and left them alone.
I took Tracer's hand as we closed the boys' bedroom door and pulled him down the hallway to our bedroom.
"I think someone's glad I'm home," Tracer said.
"I think that's an understatement," I replied.
Tracer's hand reached around me and started stroking my already hard dick.
"Yeah, based on what I'm feeling, I think it is an understatement."
I pulled Tracer over to the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt. He followed suit, unbuttoning my shirt as well.
"We can get naked faster if we do our own clothes," Tracer suggested.
"Yeah, but this is a lot of fun," I replied. I ran my hands down his sides and pulled him into a deep kiss.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my hairy chest tighter to his. The kiss turned into a duel of tongues, each pushing to move into the other's mouth. As the kissing continued, I ran my hands down to Tracer's ass and started playing with his buns.
We finally broke off the kiss and separated slightly. I unbuttoned my pants and shucked them off quickly, while Tracer did the same. We jumped on top of the covers and our bodies tangled together.
"Oh, FUCK, YEAH!" I heard a muffled voice come through the wall.
"I guess Will and Ryan are getting reacquainted," I laughed.
"Yeah. Our turn!"
Tracer slide his body down mine and zeroed in on my hard dick.
"Oh, fuck!" I moaned as Tracer's tongue started licking up and down my shaft.
As he started sucking my cock, he continued turning his body until we were in a sixty-nine position.
With his hard dick in front of me, I leaned forward and started licking it. This elicited a groan of approval. I kept teasing his dick for a few minutes before finally sucking it in. That garnered more groans.
I rolled us both over a bit more, Tracer now flat on his back with me over him. I took the opportunity to consume his dick - now, I was able to really give him a great blow job.
Tracer put his hands on my ass, using his hands to pull me down. He worked his tongue around my shaft as he continued to give me an expert blow job. He was really pushing all my buttons.
I relented on trying to keep up, and let him focus on giving me such pleasure. He teased and tortured my dick till I was panting and on the verge of cumming. Suddenly, Tracer pushed up on my legs, freeing my dick from his mouth.
"I think it's time for you to fuck me!" Tracer ordered.
As I reached over to grab the lube, Tracer wiggled out from under me. He got up on all fours and presented his ass to me. I dropped the lube onto the bed and reached down to spread his cheeks. My tongue plunging into his hole caused him to moan loudly. I started really teasing his hole, using my tongue and a few fingers to open him up wide.
Tracer's was the only ass I'd ever eaten, and I really had fun nipping, tonguing and nibbling at it. It seemed to hit all the right notes with him, and I had him squirming on the bed very quickly.
"Come on. Fuck me!" he moaned.
I pulled back for a second. "Patience," I replied. With that, I went back to working his hole open.
I didn't make him wait long. I finally pulled back, slicked up my dick with an ample amount of lube and slid on in with one long, deep stroke. I'd read stories where guys compared putting their dick into a hole to cutting a knife through soft butter. That was accurate this time.
Buried in Tracer's ass, I just held still for a moment, feeling the pulses from his ass against my cock. He pushed back some and I realized that he was ready for some hard pounding. I pulled my dick all the way out and then, before his ass could close back up, plunged back in.
I repeated these long strokes a number of times. I finally stopped, keeping my dick buried in his hole. I started stroking to the sides, rubbing the head of my dick against his prostate.
"Oh, fuck," he moaned. "Fuck that feels good."
Having found his spot, I aimed my strokes so that they pushed into his prostrate with every stroke.
Tracer started spouting a stream of ‘fucks,' ‘damns,' and other comments as I continued to work him to the edge.
My thrusts were more like punches at this point. I'd pull almost completely out, and then shove my dick back in quickly. The angle allowed me to tease his spot relentlessly.
As I felt my orgasm approach, I switched to a faster pace.
"I'm not going to last much longer," he warned.
"Neither am I," I replied.
"Fuck!" he moaned as his dick started spraying the sheets. With that, his ass clamped down on my dick, milking me.
"Yeah!" I yelled in agreement, my cum flooding into his ass.
We both let out a few more moans as the wave of pleasure went through us. As we quieted down, I heard a muffled chuckle.
"I guess we were loud," I said.
"I guess so. They'll get over it," Tracer replied.
"Yeah, I'm sure they will. I need to clean up."
We each grabbed our robes and quickly went to the shower. I'd never tried to shower with Tracer in the trailer and we quickly found it might be technically feasible, but not enjoyable.
I stepped out and let Tracer clean up first. As he dried off, I quickly rinsed down. He'd disappeared by the time I started to dry off. When I got back to the room, Tracer had fresh sheets on the bed. We curled up together and I drifted off to sleep quickly.
Sunday morning I was up early and went over to the office to catch up on some paper work. I caught up on all the files and pulled up e-mail. We'd gotten an e-mail from Jake and Gavin inviting us to the annual Halloween Party. I glanced up at the clock. It was only seven a.m., so I figured it was too early to call.
The day was busy and I didn't get a chance to think about much until we closed. Tracer headed into the trailer to fix dinner while I stepped into the office to make a call.
"Hey, Gavin. It's Erik, how are things going?"
"Not bad. Jake's on a business trip so I'm taking things slow this weekend. How about you?"
"God, where to start. You know we're doing a major remodel on the house. Well, they are going to complete it early."
"Well, that's good," Gavin commented.
"Yeah, but they only accelerated their schedule after Ryan and Will were in an accident."
"Accident? Are they OK?"
"They are recovering. Both of them have broken bones and bruises and such; but they're getting better slowly."
"God, I'm glad they aren't too bad off."
"A few days in the hospital and a lot of doctors' appointments later and the worst is over," I replied. "Anyway, I wanted to give my regrets that we can't make the party. Things are just too chaotic right now."
"That I can completely understand," he replied.
We continued our conversation for a while – discussing work, Jake's travel, and more… Finally, the chatter dwindled and I concluded. "Sorry, Gavin, it's just not going to work out this year. Give Jake our regards and please don't take us off the guest list for next year!"
"We wouldn't do that!" Gavin assured me. "You have a perfectly good reason why you can't come. We'll look forward to visiting once you get the house all set up!"
"Thanks. Talk to you later!" I hung up the phone and then heard Tracer clear his throat behind me.
"I heard," Tracer commented. "I'm disappointed we can't go, but damn there's just too much going on."
"That's the understatement of the century," I replied.
"I tried to get you on the radio. I guess you don't have it turned on anymore."
"I didn't think I'd need it anymore."
"Well, dinner is ready. In fact, Ryan and Will are pretty much done already."
"Wonderful, I'm getting hungry."
"Well, let's get you fed."
We headed into the trailer for the night.