Terry's Tree

From Thanksgiving to almost Christmas, the Christmas tree he'd brought me was still in its box and being an impediment to getting to the front door. I didn't have the time or heart to move it, though.

* * * *

"Ow. Shit." Would I never learn that I couldn't get to the apartment door without encountering the box of Terry's tree, I wondered, as I answered the knock. It didn't escape me that Terry was still trying to guilt me about my antiholiday attitude from beyond the grave—nor that I was trying to resist him from resentment that he'd left me.

"Ron," I said. "I was just thinking of you."

"Hot for sex? No other plans for Christmas Eve?" he said.

"Always hot for sex," I said. "And I told you I don't do holiday seasons."

"Just the big, black bull I want to party with on Christmas Eve," Ron said. "And I do do holiday seasons. I like to do them on my back with a big dick inside me. You gonna ask me in? This box is heavy."

"I was going to ask you about the box."

"Decorations. We can't put up the tree without having decorations to go on it."

That's what Terry had intended to do—to bring decorations and to put up that tree in the box and decorate it whether I wanted to or not. "I'm not sure we'll have time for that. I'm hard. I want it bad."

"We'll find time," Ron said. "I want it bad too, though."

I gave it to him bad, on the bed, in the bedroom. I prepared him with a 9.8-inch black AnimHole Bull dildo. He was on his back on the bed, grasping his right ankle and holding his leg raised and spread. His left ankle was hooked on my right shoulder. It had become our favorite prep position. I hovered between his spread and raised thighs, capturing his eyes with mine, gaging his pain-pleasure, as I worked his channel with the nearly three-inch-thick dildo, stretching him to my own need. When I'd done so, I pulled the dildo out, put myself in position, and mounted him. He cried out, "Yes, yes, you big, black stud. Fuck the hell out of me." Thrusting up inside him, I did just that. "Deeper, deeper," he moaned, thoroughly lost to the fuck. I went deeper, ever deeper, mastering him, conquering him, making his ass mine.

"Oh, shit! Fuck! You big, black bull! Cream me . . . deep . . . give it to . . . YES!" he cried out as I tensed, jerked, and released; tensed, jerked, and released.

"I guess that was what Terry had in mind for tonight," I murmured, while still entwined as one, me going flaccid inside him, as we cooled down.

"Yes, I'm sure he did," Ron agreed.

"How do you know? I haven't told you much about him."

"You didn't have to. Terry told me all about you—about how good a lover you were. About how different the two of you were but, at the same time, how compatible you were in sex. He told me you were somewhat of an enigma, which I've found out myself—your reluctance and then that woman I saw in your bed."

"A trans in transition. You know him. Mikey. I'm just trying to help him adjust."

"Whatever," Ron said and laughed. "Persistence wins out. He told me how you didn't like holidays all that much but that he'd bought you a tree and would decorate it—that he'd bring you over to the party side. He told me what a nice guy you were beyond looking like a mean black thug. He told me you had thick nine incher and knew what to do with it to send a guy to Nirvana."

"He told you all that? You knew Terry?"

"Yes. We're both from Bethlehem. We grew up together. We went to school together, through Lehigh University. We joined the police together. We both knew the risks and dangers of doing so. Terry was so much looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas with you—you big inside him, stretching him, sending him to heaven. He once told me that if anything happened to him, he'd like me to continue bringing him out. I'm his Christmas present to you—but his to me, as well. If that makes you mad or sad, I can dress and leave now."

I didn't have to think about that. I pulled him over onto my lap, facing me. Grasping his hips between my hands, I forced his channel down on my erection, deep. He cried out, "Oh, you big, black bull!" and leaned back, grasping my knees with his hands. I raised and lowered him in an ever-increasing rhythm motion, fucking him again, as my eyes looked past his writhing body to Terry's tree.