"Patch," as folks called him, was as much a part of the 300-acre river-bottoms as the fields, the willows, and the cottonwood trees. His best pal Purd... dressed all in black with a floppy black hat. Patch wore blue denim that went unwashed once he put it on new from the General Store. The jacket and trousers were crusted with months of grime from living among his milking goats. He once answered a discourteous remark about his laundry habits with a stern denial: "'Course I washes 'em. Ain't a. I took his arm, pulled it up to my boobs and held it under them.This was my favorite time. I loved the feeling of being naked and held in the morning. There were many times, when I was alone, I would hug my pillow and imagine it was Brad.Kathy and Eddie were sound asleep on the airbed next to the settee. I looked at them and wondered if Brad and I looked as happy as they did.Moving as carefully as I could, I rolled over so I was facing Brad. I reached between us, gripped his cock and as I. More

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