It had been five days since Matthew spent the day in my bed with me. The self-pity days are a thing of the past now. Like a snake shedding its skin, I left the old tissue behind and grew new, tougher skin.
Tammy and Shiro have been home for three days. Tammy wheeled in, happy as ever, excited her exchange student was finding a balance in Texas. The Japanese culture is very different than ours, and according to Tammy, Shiro is adjusting quickly.
The first day back, I greeted them outside. I was pleasant and asked Shiro questions, engaging him in conversation. I wanted him to feel relaxed and calm around me; after all, he did want me to take his virginity.
At dinner last night, I told Tammy that the wild bore was back and I may need to go out and check the calves around midnight when the game camera had been picking up their images. The truth is, the wild bore is always out, but that certainly made for an excellent excuse to leave the house at midnight.
At 11:45, I dressed in a pair of camo cargo pants and a deep green long-john pullover, and I slipped on my mud shoes, which were clean. Going commando, I also refrained from putting on socks.
I leaned over the bed and kissed Tammy Goodbye, telling her I needed to slay the animal and get on top of the prey. This statement wasn't a lie; it just wasn't about wild hogs. Shiro was my prey, and I was determined to be on top of him. When she wished me Good Luck and said to be careful, I smiled and told her to get some sleep. I said I'd be back after doing the deed, smiling.
I took the Gator to Shiros Bunkhouse, and using my key, I let myself in. The only light on was a lamp in the hallway that led to the bedroom. I assumed he used the lamp as a nightlight. I opened the bedroom, and another nightlight was on beside the bed. A low-voltage bulb was in the lamp beside the bed and cast a small light around the room.
"Shiro. Wake up." My tone was loud, not a shout, just a profound, commanding statement.
Startled awake, sitting up one elbow, Shiro said, "Dean? Sir? Yes sir. But you are in my room! How did you enter?"
I said, "Through the fucking front door. My house. My key. We need to talk."
Standing at the end of the bed, I look at Shiro. He looks to be straight out of a 1950s sitcom. He is wearing baby blue long-sleeve pajamas, buttoned from the top button down, only covered by a bed sheet. The bedspread is neatly folded and placed on a chair across the room. A blanket was on the opposite side of the bed, as if on stand-by in case he got cold during the night.
I walked to the side of the bed and sat down next to Shiro. I asked him, "How do you like it here, son? Are you happy? I realize it's a big adjustment."
In a nervous voice, Shiro replied, "I am happy here. I have much to learn, sir. I am pleased to be learning. Thank you for the opportunity."
"You do have a lot to learn; I agree with that. And I'm here to teach you. Not only about ranching but also about life. Are you willing to learn?"
Still confused, Shiro said, "I do not understand, sir. What are you meaning?"
I didn't say a word. Instead, I pulled the sheet back and ran my hand under Shiro's pajama top, brushing my strong, rough fingertips across his nipples.
Shiro froze but did not say a word. His eyes were locked on mine as I continued to stroke his chest. I moved my hand lower, my pointer finger finding his belly button, and I slightly inserted my finger into his belly button's hole.
I didn't go lower instead higher. My fingers stroked his chin, his neck, his left ear, and over his lips, which he instinctively licked once my fingers trailed back down to his throat.
I stood and unzipped my pants, opening them but not removing the cargo pants, exposing the hairline of my crotch. Then I pulled my shirt up, stopping to expose my chest, then over my head, dropping it on the floor, and kicked off my shoes before putting my thumbs in the loops of the cargo pants and removing them.
