Page 44 of Repentance and Absolution
I put a knee up on the mattress and found his hole with my fingers again, guiding my dick with my other hand. I flashed back to the first time I’d ever fucked him—in the dirt of our camp, in complete and utter torment and guided by some force outside of my control. And I drove my cock into him now with the same sense of possession, like I couldn’t do anything else. I’d stopped trying to resist.
Oscar made a sound like supplication as I shoved in all the way, till I could feel his tight, captive balls against my belly.
“You like that?” I whispered. “You like having my cock inside you, all the goddamn way?”
“You know I do. You know it.” He swallowed and licked his lips.
I made a sound, a groan, as I retreated and thrust into him again, his insides velvety smooth and hot, so hot, around me. I was gentle but I was relentless. I pierced him again and again with my cock that was so hard and aching for release. But I held off, because I wanted him to go off before I did.
His sweet cock, hisnubby, all tied up with the leather cords, pulsed and dripped, and I quickened my movements just a little in order to set him off. He started to pant and cry out, and I knew it would be soon. I craned my neck down to watch and snapped my hips, raking o’er his special spot again and again.
Oscar made a choking noise and an animal sound as he went rigid, his cock shooting spatters of white onto his belly as I kept fucking him, draining him, making him mine, giving him that pleasure as if it were my sacred duty.
“Argh!Ahhhh!” he screamed as he spent and spent and spent. I kept up my rhythm until he’d finished, then went fast again as my need ramped up. He was sensitive, no doubt, but t’wasn’t long before I got there, garbling curses and praise and deep-throated groans of bliss into his neck as I emptied into him.
“Oscar. Oscar.”
T’was all I could say as we lay there, wrapped up together, our breaths slowing and our bodies relaxing, our brains coming back to earth. I peppered his face with kisses until he laughed and pushed me away.
* * * *
On Christmas Eve, we got our morning chores done, made sure Poke had enough to eat and drink, added wood to the stove to keep our house warm while we were gone and set out for the Trelawneys’ place. I’d convinced Oscar to put some of his candy aside as a gift for Irene and Clarence, because it would be a kind gesture. But I had to promise to let him buy more the next time we went to town. Oscar drove a hard bargain when it came to sweets.
We’d been blessed with fine weather. T’was a tad on the windy side, but the sun was shining, and we bundled up. I’d taken a brace of partridges to Irene the day before, so’s she could pluck them and figure out how to cook them for our supper. She’d been delighted, and even Clarence had given me a nod of thanks for the contribution. I reckoned he’d appreciated being saved the trouble of going out himself.
When we broke through the cover of the trees, we saw Clarence standing on the porch. He stepped down to greet us.
“Merry Christmas, Jimmy. Oscar.”
“Merry Christmas. We’re happy to’ve been invited,” I said.
“Oscar, you go inside. Irene’s excited to see you.”
“Yes, sir!”
The barn was more spacious than ours, with four good-sized stalls. Clarence’s bay gelding and Irene’s chestnut mare were there, but they didn’t seem to have any other animals. The place smelled of fresh hay and manure and leather.
While we worked to unsaddle and stable Dixie and Onyx, I glanced o’er at Clarence.
“Thank you kindly for having us o’er on Christmas Eve, Mr. Trelawney. Oscar and I don’t have no family nearby, and we were just gonna be together.”
Clarence eyed me curiously. “Call me Clarence, or I’ll never hear the end of it from Irene. You come from Whitehorse? You got family there?”
“No, I— I was there on a job when I found Oscar,” I said, uneasiness gnawing at me. Any time people asked me personal questions, I felt defensive and like I had something to hide—probably because I did. Oscar knew about my life as an outlaw, but I didn’t want everyone to find out. I’d come up with a cover story about growing up in Alberta and losing my parents—which was close enough to the truth—and being brought out to the Yukon by a relative who’d set me up hauling supplies. But every time I had to explain, I felt like even more of a liar than I was already. T’was bad enough that Oscar and I had to keep the truth of our relationship a secret, but I felt I had to keep my outlaw past hidden away, too. The difference was that I was shamed and remorseful of that part of my life, but I was proud of what Oscar and I were together.
Carson Moore and Tim Jensen were one thing, but the Trelawneys were our neighbors and I hated to lie to them right off the bat, when they’d been so kind and welcoming.
Clarence grunted and continued to help with the horses, but I felt like I should try to make conversation. I was trying to think of something to say when Clarence spoke again.
“What do you mean, youfoundhim? Was he lost?”
I looked o’er there, trying to see Clarence’s face under his hat, and I reckon I saw his lips twitch, like he was making a joke, and t’was so surprising I didn’t say anything for a moment. Then I nodded.
“I reckon he was real lost, yeah,” I said, wondering how much I should reveal. I kept it simple. “He was down on his luck, and he looked like he could use a friend. So, I offered to help him by bringing him to his uncle here in Port Essington.”
They say when you’re telling a lie you should keep it as close to the truth as you can, so that’s what I did. I didn’t want to tell Clarence that Oscar had been scraggly and starved and offering himself for cash outside a cathouse. Oscar wouldn’t thank me for that, and I reckon Clarence didn’t have to know about any of it—and neither did anyone else. That was a secret between me and Oscar, as much as the true nature of our friendship.
“Hmm. So, you traveled from Whitehorse to Port Essington together?”
