It was the weekend before Christmas 1997 and I hauled my ass out of bed - I was 29 at the time and mornings were not my most productive part of the day, and being a Saturday, I was in no rush to greet the sun. I entered the kitchen and raised my arm to shield my eyes from the blinding light entering the patio doors. There was at least a foot of pristine Maine snow on the ground, blanketing the backyard to the tops of the trees. Everything a blinding white. My eyes adjusted and I found a note on the kitchen table:
"John, gone to town with Mom for the day to do some shopping - last chance before Christmas. You and Dad are on your own today. There are leftovers in the fridge. Love ya! - Liz"
Sure enough, the car was gone and a single pair of tracks could be seen heading out the driveway to the road. The main road appeared to have been plowed, possibly some time through the night, but it hadn't been cleared down to bare pavement and it looked packed with snow. Not enough to keep folks off the road the weekend before the 25th, but enough to keep the men at home on a Saturday, warm and dry inside. Town was only about an hour away, but that weekend it was the last place a man wanted to be and I was happy the girls went and left us at home. It promised Ed and I a much welcomed day of peace and quite before the holidays finally kicked into gear.
I put on a pot of coffee to brew. My in-laws house was quiet and as I sat for a moment in the silence, I began to wonder if Edward was home. I slipped down the hall and peeked into his bedroom to find his bed neatly made. Back in the kitchen, I surveyed the yard and noticed Ed's truck was gone, but tire tracks lead back to the old garage at the far end of the back yard. It appeared he had driven his truck inside and shut the garage door and as I stood looking out over the yard I noticed thin wisps of smoke begin to curl out of the chimney. I figured if he was making a fire he planned on being out there for awhile, so I hurried off to grab some breakfast and to take a quick shower before heading back to see what he might be up to - there was always something to fix or some tinkering to be done and I loved spending time with him, learning whatever tricks I could. Ed had more than 65 years of tricks up his sleeve and I never tired of learning them - in fact we were more like teacher and student than father-in-law and son-in-law, and that was fine by me. We had a very open relationship, in a very private kind of way and sharing new experiences was something we indulged in from time to time, but only when the opportunity arose. Open, uninhibited physical love was a topic he especially enjoyed teaching and I, was always his eager student. I was off to seize the day...
...
I arrived at the barn with two piping hot cups of coffee and I leaned back against the side door and it swung open on oiled hinges. The sweet smell of burning wood was inviting and I could already feel the heat of the wood stove that stood crackling in the corner of the garage. Compared to the bitter cold air outside, the garage was an oasis of warmth. I set the lock on the door as I closed it behind me.
"I brought you a coffee," I said, speaking into the room. Ed was no where in sight.
"Thank you, sir!," Edward said, from the other side of the truck, "Just put it on the bench near the stove."
I sat both coffees down and moved around the truck to find him on his back, on a crawler with his head and shoulders under the front of the truck. He wore a quilted flannel shirt that was unbuttoned and laying open. His barreled chest and full, mature belly were stretching the cotton of his white, v-neck undershirt. He had on his blue work pants with no belt (just a button above the fly) and his under shirt had worked its way out of the front of his pants, leaving a small patch of his hairy belly exposed. But it wasn't just any hairy belly that turned me on...
My interest in men was limited to senior, visibly mature, very masculine men - I had no desire for men my own age or younger and I was also sexually attracted to women. My bisexual quirk led me to begin lusting after Ed soon after we met - he was the perfect mature daddy. He had a strong, masculine manner and a mature physique, a polar bear of sorts if you will, that fit my profile perfectly and Ed, being a closet bisexual, soon led us to an ever growing history of sexual encounters.
"Need a hand?" I asked, squatting next to him.
"Two heads are better than one," he said, "Do you have the day off?"
"The girls are gone for the day, so I guess you got another head." I said.
Ed continued to fiddle under the truck while he explained how we were going to hook up the plow. All I could think of was "something needs plowing, but it aint the snow..." while I looked down at his short, stocky frame laying on the bench under the truck. Barely listening to him, I gazed down from his exposed stomach, to his crotch, where his massive pile of manly bits lay cradled in his pants - a lovely package - a Christmas gift to open early.
"What can I do to help?" I asked.
"Hand me that half-inch socket wrench. It should be right here next to me," he said.
I grabbed the wrench and leaned in close to him, placing my hand on his chest to balance myself as I leaned in to hand him the tool.
"Careful not to get dirty," Ed said.
"I don't mind getting a little dirty now and then," I said, as I shifted my weight and slid my hand down to his exposed flesh, catching my self there, as if for balance, with my hand flat against his skin, just under his belly button. His skin felt hot and hairy under my fingers.
"I have something I was going to give you for Christmas, but if you don't mind getting it a few days early...," Edward said, "Did you lock the door behind you on the way in?"
