Sheridan Diana Love Among The Llamas

Love Among the Llamas

Adam Witherspoon, who is new in town, has just started a llama-
and-ostrich ranch. He discovers that Bart Donohue, the hot man
he recently met and fell for, is the town council member who's

trying to pass legislation barring residents from keeping exotic
animals. Despite this, they form an uneasy romantic alliance,
getting together in clandestine but hot liaisons.

Someone has it in for Adam, however, and lets his llamas and
ostriches loose. Can he round them up before they're killed? Can
Adam catch his shadowy foe? Is it his new lover, Bart? Can Adam

prevail in a council meeting when he speaks up against the
proposed legislation against exotics? Will Bart come out of the
closet and declare his love for Adam? And can love win out against

all these obstacles?

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary
Length: 20,803 words

LOVE AMONG THE LLAMAS

Diana Sheridan

EROTIC ROMANCE

MANLOVE

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

LOVE AMONG THE LLAMAS
Copyright © 2012 by Diana Sheridan
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-769-5

First E-book Publication: June 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
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express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Love Among the Llamas by Diana
Sheridan from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you.
Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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DEDICATION

For Cassandra Pierce,

a good friend

and a really hot writer

LOVE AMONG THE LLAMAS

DIANA SHERIDAN

Chapter 1

Adam Witherspoon emerged from his newly purchased house and

looked around the miniranch delightedly. Juan, his new llama
wrangler, was in the pen with the six llamas Adam had purchased,
three male and three female. Adam hoped that soon he would have a
growing herd, a continuing supply of much-prized wool. He reached
into the chest pocket of his western-style shirt and extracted a stick of
cinnamon chewing gum, which he popped into his mouth.

Idly kicking at a stray piece of paper with the toe of his leather

boots before bending down to pick it up, he then straightened up again
and turned his face toward the sunshine. Back in his former home,
Delaware, he knew the winter would still be holding the landscape in
its grip this first week of March. Down here in central Florida,
however, the temperatures were balmy.

Wintersun, not far from Ocala, was not as warm as Miami, but it

was a far cry from the chill of his home state. The difference was just
as radical as his change in occupation. Back home—no, he had to stop
thinking of Delaware as “home.” This was home now. Back in
Delaware, Adam had been an insurance agent. Now he was the
proprietor of a llama and ostrich ranch.

Beyond the other side of the house, as far away from the llamas as

the property line would allow, was another pen, this one holding a

Love Among the Llamas

flock of ostriches. While their feathers were of some value, the real
prize was their meat. It had been likened to cholesterol-free beef, and
while Adam himself didn’t see the similarity in taste, he agreed that
ostrich meat was tasty and knew that it was healthy. He had made
arrangements with a meat wholesaler to sell the ostrich meat for a fair
price and hoped that, between the ostrich meat and the llama wool, he
would make at least as much money as the insurance business had
brought him—and a lot more enjoyably.

He had hired an ostrich specialist, too. Adam had studied up on

the birds before investing his inheritance from his late, childless uncle
into the ranch, but he was smart enough to know he needed help from
someone really knowledgeable. Matt had impeccable credentials,
having worked on another Florida ostrich farm before this and having
left only because the owner had retired. She had given Matt a glowing
reference, and Adam had hired him quickly.

Adam’s satisfaction with his new existence swelled within him,

and he gazed with pride across the expanse of his spread. The llama
pen was way bigger than he needed for just six of the Andean beasts,
but he anticipated having a far larger herd in the not-too-distant
future. Beyond the llama pen he could see the neighboring spread,
apparently some kind of horse ranch, but he had yet to meet any of his
neighbors. He had been ensconced in his new digs just a week now,
but none of the neighbors had come by to introduce themselves, and
Adam had no idea who any of them were.

The shadows were long now. It was getting on toward dinnertime.

Adam had left a large pot of Brunswick stew simmering on the stove.
A chicken stew, featuring corn and green peppers and sweetened with
a touch of brown sugar and sherry, the recipe was one of his favorites.
He prepared a big pot every few weeks, freezing the leftovers in
single servings so he could have a bowl of it every week without
cooking it afresh every time. He figured he’d have dinner and then
head into Ocala for a while.

Diana Sheridan

The only bad thing about Wintersun, his new home, was that it

was a “dry” town—no alcoholic beverages could be sold within the
town limits. But it wasn’t that far to Ocala. Adam had already been to
a bar there once. Tonight he would go again. It wasn’t a gay bar.
Adam wasn’t particularly on the prowl to meet a stud. He was just
after a few drinks and some relaxation. A decent mainstream bar, like
the one he’d gone to the other night, would do.

Sometimes, though, in life, when someone is least looking for

something, that’s when he or she finds it. An hour and a half later,
Adam stepped inside the cool, dark confines of the bar and looked
around for an empty seat. There were three of them at the bar itself.
One was next to a slovenly looking, overweight woman with badly
bleached hair. One was next to a kid who didn’t even look old enough
to drink, though Adam was sure the bartender had carded him, and
he’d passed muster. The kid wore his hair in a punk haircut and had
cheek piercings. Adam couldn’t imagine getting into any kind of
conversation with him.

The third empty seat, though, was next to a fellow attired similarly

to Adam’s western garb. He had light brown hair, freckles, and a
well-defined yet lean body. He looked as if his muscles might have
been developed through hard labor, rather than in a gym.

It was a no-brainer as to which of the three empty seats to take.
Adam swung one leg over the empty barstool and planted his butt

firmly on the seat. The fellow in the next seat swung around to face
him and said, “Howdy.”

“Hidy yourownself,” Adam responded collegially. “Hidy” was not

part of his Delaware vocabulary, but Adam very much wanted to fit
into his new surroundings, and he’d heard various of the Wintersun
townsfolk address him and each other thus.

“Bart,” said the fellow, by way of introduction, thrusting a

callused hand in Adam’s direction.

“Adam.” He grasped the proffered hand and shook it heartily.
“New in town?”

Love Among the Llamas

“Relatively.”
“New Englander?” Bart hazarded a guess.
“Delaware. You got the up-north part right.” Adam grinned at

Bart.

“Knew you weren’t a New Yorker. Or a Southerner.” Then in a

total non sequitur, he added, “Nice duds.” Bart nodded his head once
emphatically in approval of Adam’s outfit.

“Thanks.”
“Ever been to this bar before?”
“Once.”
“Stick to the name brands. The house stuff is rotgut.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Bart smiled warmly at Adam, and Adam’s gaydar went on high

alert. His dick started twitching in his pants. No, he wouldn’t mind an
erotic tussle with this brown-haired, smiling fellow. Not at all.

“So, what do you like to do for pleasure?” Bart asked.
“Depends who I’m doing it with,” Adam answered guardedly.
A sly smile crossed Bart’s lips. “Well put,” he said, seeming to

recognize the implications in Adam’s answer.

Just then the bartender showed up. “What can I get you?” he

asked.

“Johnnie black on the rocks.”
“Water back?”
“Naah. Thanks.”
“Ready for a refill?” he asked Bart.
“Just about. Go ahead and hit me.”
“What are you drinking?” Adam inquired.
“Dickel. Tennessee sour mash. Good sippin’ whiskey.”
“Neat?”
“Only way to drink it.” After a pause, he said, “I like that. You

said ‘neat.’ I say ‘neat.’ Most people say ‘straight.’”

“Good to know we have things in common.”

Diana Sheridan

Bart, sitting to Adam’s right, let his left leg move over a smidgen,

until his knee was touching Adam’s knee. When Adam didn’t pull
away, Bart smiled meaningfully. Adam let his eyes become half-
lidded and smiled back.

They continued the conversation with their knees together, neither

of them mentioning it, but Adam acutely aware of the contact and
sure that Bart was, too. Their topics were impersonal—sports,
politics, and that good old standby, the weather. “It’s like heaven,
coming here from Delaware,” Adam observed.

“It can still get cold here in the winter, but not like up north,” Bart

informed him. “Now, South Florida—Miami, the Keys, Lauderdale—
is noticeably warmer than here. But we do okay. I don’t mind a few
cold days and nights.”

“From where I sit, it’s positively balmy here.”
“It’s early spring. The winter’s colder. When did you get down?”
“Just a week ago. Although I was down briefly earlier, when I

bought my new place.”

“You missed the coldest weather, then.”
“I like it hot,” said Adam, who wasn’t talking about the weather.
Bart clearly knew it from the question that followed. “You have to

be back home any particular time? Anyone waiting for you?”

“Nope. You?”
“My kids are visiting for the weekend, but I doubt they’re home.

They’re teenagers. They’ll be off at the arcade, most likely, unless
they went to the movies. I don’t need to be home for them, but it does
preclude our going back to my place.”

“We can go to my house.”
“I have a place we can use. It’s right near here. Unless you live

right close-by?”

“Not really.”
“Then let’s go to my friend’s place. He owns a feed store here in

town. He has a back room all fixed up for ‘recreation.’ It’s a sweet
setup. He and I are the only ones who use it, and I doubt he’d be there

Love Among the Llamas

now. It’s where he has a little fun behind wifey’s back, but at this
hour on a Saturday, I’m sure he’s with the missus. If I give you
directions, do you know your way around town well enough yet to
follow them?”

“I’m not sure,” Adam said hesitantly.
“Then follow my car and I’ll lead you there. Mine is a silver Ford

SUV. What’s yours?”

“Light-blue convertible. Acura.”
“We’ll finish our drinks and get out of here.”
Adam took a big swig of his drink.
“Whoa! Eager, aren’t you? Slow down. Don’t get yourself drunk.

You don’t want to get into an accident on the way over there.” He
chuckled. “I especially don’t want you crashing into me, right in front
of you.” He took a respectable swallow of his own drink. “So tell me
more about yourself. I still don’t know your last name, where you
live, what you do…anything. Or is that classified information?” He
chuckled again.

“Hardly!” said Adam. “I don’t know how interesting it is, but it’s

hardly Top Secret. I’m—” Just then there was a loud crash at the end
of the bar. An altercation had broken out between two of the bar’s
patrons, which one of them seemed disposed to settle by hitting the
other with a beer bottle. While some of the drinkers nearby hastily got
out of the way, others stepped in to try to separate the two
combatants. The bartender reached for his phone, no doubt
summoning the police.

Distracted from answering Bart’s question, Adam posed one of

his own. “Is this normal for this place? It was quiet the only other
time I was here.”

“No, not normal, but not unheard of. Bar fights can happen

anywhere, and this place is no exception. By and large, it’s not a
rowdy crowd, but shit happens. If it’s making you nervous, we can
leave our drinks and go.”

Diana Sheridan

“Naah. I’m okay. Shame to waste good whiskey. I am eager to get

going, but not because of the fight.” Adam downed another good chug
of his scotch.

Bart grinned and rubbed his crotch showily. “I hear you. I hear

you, and I echo your sentiments.” He took a healthy swallow. “Blue
convertible, huh? I owned a convertible once. The damn thing was a
lemon. Broke down every other week, I swear, but I loved that car. I
held onto it far longer than I should have. I loved riding around with
the top down. This was in Louisiana, after I got out of school—LSU. I
stuck around the area for a few years before I moved on. I even drove
around on cold days with the top down—as long as it wasn’t raining. I
just turned the heat up full blast. Man, I was a fool for that
convertible, and you can take that both ways. I loved it and I was an
idiot for keeping it as long as I did.

“You’ll have to let me ride with you in your car sometime. With

the top down, of course.”

“That’s a deal,” agreed Adam, draining the last of his Johnnie

Walker and thumping the glass down on the bar decisively. “You
about done?”

Bart took a last healthy chug of his Dickel and tried to catch the

attention of the bartender. Finally he succeeded. “I’ve got his, too.”
He jabbed a thumb in Adam’s direction. “How much?” As he asked,
he reached for his wallet, pawed through it, pulled out a twenty, and
proffered it to the bartender.

“You didn’t have to—”
“Shut up. You can pay next time. I like your company. We’ll do

this again.”

“I’ve got the tip, then. And thanks.”
Adam tapped his left foot impatiently against the barstool as he

waited for the bartender to return with Bart’s change. The tip was in
place. Both glasses had been drained dry. As soon as the bartender
came back, they could take off for the sanctuary of Bart’s friend’s

Love Among the Llamas

store and the fun that awaited them there. Adam was eager, to say the
least.

Finally, after a long delay, the bartender returned. Bart hastily

stuffed the bills in his pocket, not bothering to secure them in his
wallet. “Let’s get outta here. Where are you parked?”

“Up the road,” said Adam with a jerk of his thumb.
“I’m down the other way. I’ll pull up to your car and wait for you

to get out of your spot. You follow me. It’s not too far—about ten
minutes from here.”

“Cool!”
Some ten minutes later, Adam followed Bart into the deserted

parking lot of a feed store. Bart drove around the stand-alone building
and parked in a smaller lot in the rear. They both exited their cars, and
Bart pulled out his key ring, selecting one and opening the back door
with it. Quickly, he punched the security code into the alarm system
then exhaled loudly. Stuffing the keys into his pocket, he put an arm
around Adam and led him through the semidarkness. There was a
security light in the back parking lot, whose glow infiltrated the back
of the store through the two rear windows, illuminating the place
sufficiently that they could make their way safely to the door of the
back room Bart had told Adam about.

A nail had been haphazardly hammered into the plank door, and

Bart reached for a halter that hung on a similar nail alongside the
door. Quickly, he transferred the halter from the nail where it now
resided to the one on the door.

“Signal?” Adam guessed.
“Yup. I’m sure Lee isn’t gonna be here tonight, but better to be

safe. On the one in a million chance that he does come over, he’ll
know not to barge in.”

Bart opened the door, flicked a light switch, and strode into the

small but comfortably furnished room with Adam eagerly advancing
behind him. The bed, a double, took up most of the room, but there
was one night table with a lamp on it, a small throw rug on the wood

Diana Sheridan

floor, and beyond a half-open door, Adam could see a small sink. He
surmised that that was a bathroom.

Bart turned to face Adam and grasped his shoulders, pulling him

to him. Then he gave Adam a rough kiss, intruding his tongue into
Adam’s mouth. Dropping his right hand from Adam’s left shoulder,
Bart cupped the bulge of Adam’s dick through his jeans. “Welcome,”
he said, breaking the kiss. “This is gonna be fun.”

Adam put his hands on Bart’s butt cheeks and pulled Bart’s pelvis

toward his, grinding his crotch against Bart’s meaningfully.

“Yeah, we’re going to have ourselves one fine time,” Bart

continued. “Are you a top or a bottom?”

“I’m versatile.”
“Me, too.”
Adam broke away and started to unfasten his belt buckle.
“There’s plenty of rubbers and lube in the night table drawer,”

Bart pointed out helpfully.

Adam looked around for a chair or even a nail on which to drape

the clothes he was about to shed. Seeing none, he unsnapped the front
of his shirt, shrugged out of it, and let it inelegantly fall to the floor.
After he sat on the edge of the bed and tugged off his boots, his pants
quickly followed his shirt to a resting place on the small rug. That left
only his socks and his tighty-whities, and he made short work of those
as well.

Bart, meanwhile, was stripping just as eagerly. He yanked open

the snaps of his shirt with a ferocious pull that threatened to tear the
fabric, hastily shucked the shirt, and went to work on removing his
boots and pants. As he pulled down his jeans, his dick sprang into
view, and Adam realized that Bart wasn’t wearing any underwear. He
also realized that Bart was very well endowed. Gifted in the dick
department, Bart had both length and thickness where it counted.
Already semi-erect, that dick sprang out from a voluminous nest of
springy pubic curls of a darker shade than the hair on Bart’s head.

Love Among the Llamas

He had some hair on his chest, too, Adam noticed when he finally

tore his eyes away from Bart’s dick. It was neither a thick pelt nor a
sparse scattering but somewhere pleasantly in between, and it was
closer to the color of the hair on his head than to that of his pubic
bush.

Adam grasped Bart’s half-hard in his hand and began to eagerly

stroke up and down the shaft. His jack hand’s speed increased, and
with it, the pressure with which he held him, until he was jacking Bart
pretty demandingly. Bart looked across at him and smiled. Adam put
his other hand on Bart’s balls. They were big balls, bull balls, and
Adam wrapped his hand around as much of them as he could enclose
and gently squeezed them, hefting Bart’s sac as he squeezed.

Those balls were big, sweaty, and forested with a light sprinkling

of brown hairs. They called to Adam to do more than just squeeze
them, so he did the natural thing. Ducking down to Bart’s crotch,
Adam took Bart’s balls into his mouth, one at a time. That was all he
could accommodate, but he switched back and forth between the two
of them. Bart’s body tensed with need and began to sway in fuck-
thrusts.

Bart put his hands on Adam’s head and held him, as if to prevent

him from stopping what he was doing. Not that Adam had any
thought of stopping! The only reason for doing that would have been
to trade Bart’s nuts for his dick, but Adam had mixed feelings about
unrubbered dick-sucking, and there was no rubber yet on Bart’s
rampant hard-on.

As he continued sucking Bart’s nuts into his warm, loving mouth,

he prodded the contents with his tongue and worked each ball around
by sucking and by using his mouth. Now he felt the sexual tension
positively flood through his new lover. He increased that tension by
jacking Bart’s dick as he sucked on his sac. Then he stretched his arm
out as far as he could reach toward the night table drawer.

The room was small, and Adam managed to open the drawer, feel

around in it, and snag a condom packet without seriously disrupting

Diana Sheridan

the flow of the moment. Tearing open the foil packet, he dressed
Bart’s dick for action. Then he gave it what he had dressed it for.
Letting go of Bart’s balls with his mouth, Adam hefted Bart’s balls in
his hand and transferred his lip-lock to the tip of Bart’s dick.

An “ahhhh!” of delight escaped Bart’s lips as he felt Adam’s

muscular, practiced lips tighten around the flange of his dick and then
begin to descend. Despite his eagerness, Adam took it slowly, so Bart
could experience every inch of Adam’s descent, every facet of Bart’s
dick’s enclosure in Adam’s mouth. Eventually, however, despite
Adam’s excruciatingly slow speed, he reached bottom.

At that, Bart’s knees sagged. Huskily, he urged Adam, “Let me lie

down or at least sit down.” He turned sideways and plopped heavily
onto the bed, then arranged himself on the bed sideways, propped
against the wall since there was no headboard. Adam knelt between
his legs and latched on to his hard-on once again. Bart began humping
his buns up and down on the bed, propped up against the wall, half
lying, half sitting. Adam tugged him around so he was lying down
and would be more comfortable, then resumed hefting his nuts.

Taking a deep breath, Adam once again descended that thick

column of flesh, moving slowly but inexorably downward until at last
he had the sword that was Bart’s cock buried totally in the scabbard
that was his own throat. He held the pose for as long as he could,
tightening and releasing his suction, until his lungs were ready to
burst for want of oxygen. Then finally he began working his way back
up Bart’s shaft once again.

Arriving at the top of Bart’s dick, Adam took a deep breath,

swabbed his tongue around the mushroom-shaped dickhead, and did
several quick suck-and-releases. He increased the suction radically,
then exhaled, took another deep breath, and began the journey down
again.

Bart’s pelvic thrusts were exuberant, exhilarated, and exorbitant.

Caught up in a blissed-out joy, he incautiously drove his dick wildly
far down Adam’s gullet. Twice, he inadvertently pulled right out of

Love Among the Llamas

Adam’s mouth and aimed at the ceiling of the small room. He
bounced so wildly that he broke Adam’s suction over and over. If this
is how wild he gets just being sucked, what is he like when he’s
fucked?

Finally pulling his mouth away intentionally, Adam gave Bart a

chance to calm down. Bart’s body settled down again. Then Adam
once again resumed sucking. As he did, he decided it was time to
tease Bart’s asshole. Momentarily thrusting a finger into his mouth
alongside Bart’s dick, Adam spit-wet the finger and then brought it
down to Bart’s pucker. Although he tried to worm his finger within
that tight muscle, at first it wouldn’t give an inch to let him in. Adam
was sure Bart was no anal virgin—hadn’t he said he was versatile?—
but his asshole was unyielding. Adam pushed and pressed, twisted
and turned, insistently trying to gain entrance, but it seemed useless.

Just when he had decided that not even his finger, let alone his

dick, was ever going to breach that tight muscle ring without major
quantities of lube and some serious pressure, it relaxed, and he slipped
inside. Bart’s anal sphincter gripped Adam’s finger tightly, but he was
in, and he began to wiggle his finger around, tantalizing the nerve-rich
tissues of Bart’s back door. Bart gave a little yelp of pleasure, and
soon his butt was humping wildly again.

Now Adam attempted to insinuate a second finger within the

clench of Bart’s anal sphincter, and after a minute’s persistence, he
succeeded. Then a third finger joined the other two. No longer was he
merely tickling Bart’s anal walls. Now he was driving the three
fingers deeply in and out, finger-fucking Bart’s canal, and Bart was
loving it.

Bart’s dick swelled in Adam’s mouth, and Adam realized Bart

was close to eruption. Adam began a series of encouraging grunts,
meant to convey the message, Yes. Do it. Yes. Do it. Do it, though he
couldn’t actually say the words with his mouth full of dick.

Bart got the message, though, and shortly Adam sensed Bart’s

balls pulling up to fire off their load. A second later, they delivered.

Diana Sheridan

Adam felt Bart’s cum-tube pulse, felt his swelling dick spit out a
warm load into the rubber, and then felt Bart sag and relax as the
warmth pooled in the rubber’s receptacle end.

Well, for the moment Bart was satisfied and relaxed, but Adam

was anything but. He was needy, and what he needed he needed now.
Rubbering up, he maneuvered into position, lined his dick up at Bart’s
anal opening, and shoved.

The first thrust got him totally nowhere. The second thrust gained

him just a little ground. With the third thrust, the arrow-shaped point
of his dick breached Bart’s staunch defenses. He drove in again,
lodging more of his intruder in Bart’s resistant back channel. Another
push, another, and suddenly he popped in the rest of the way easily.
Wow, what a tight butt!

When Adam had more than half of his length within Bart, he

pulled out to the flange and shoved back again. Then he set up a
regular rhythm and began sawing in and out. Now Bart began to work
with him. Adam’s balls started to rumble. Dammit! Was he going to
come off too quickly? He tried to think of other things, but it was
hard, with the pressure of Bart’s tightly constricted ass clenching his
dick as he plowed deeper and deeper into Bart’s depths.

Bart’s tight canal gripped Adam intensely as he rode in and out,

and Bart bucked and lunged with him. Soon, Adam knew he couldn’t
hold back another minute. He was going to have to let his dick spurt
its jizz into the rubber now. He was buried balls-deep, and Bart was
working with him in the rhythm now, urging him on. “Go! Go! Go!
Go!”

He came. A thick gusher splattered out of his overtaxed balls, full

with sticky cream, and he exploded in the depths of Bart’s ass.
Tumbling to the side and pulling his dick out as he fell, he lay next to
Bart, who threw an arm across him in a companionable cuddle.
Although he was wrung out, Adam turned his head to survey Bart’s
dick and see if it was up again. It wasn’t. Apparently that one good

Love Among the Llamas

orgasm had been enough for him for now. Bart apparently had a
similar question about Adam. “You good?” he asked him.

“I’m satisfied,” Adam answered. “I can’t remember when I had a

tighter lover. It was almost like fucking a virgin, only even tighter.
You must give more often than you get.”

Bart laughed. Adam yawned widely. The orgasm had thoroughly

relaxed him, and that, combined with the lateness of the hour, was
making him sleepy. “Do you have far to drive?” Bart asked him.

“Uh-uh,” Adam answered through another yawn.
“You gonna be okay to drive home?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Well, listen—tomorrow night my kids go home, but they won’t

leave till after dinner, and then I’m going to need to do laundry and
other chores, and clean the house up a bit. It’s always messy when
they’re over. Monday night is out. I’ve got a meeting. What do you
say we get together Tuesday night, though? I’ll meet you at the bar,
and we can have a couple of drinks and then come back here. Or we
can go to my place or yours. We’ll play it by ear. How does that grab
you?”

“Real fine. What time? Around seven or seven-thirty?”
“Sounds good to me. Hey, it’s been a pleasure. A real pleasure.”
“For me, too, dude. For me, too.”
They exchanged a rough kiss and began pulling their clothes on.

Bart offered, “You go on ahead. I’ll stay and straighten up the bed and
stuff, get rid of these rubbers, move the halter back to the other nail.”

“I can stay and help.”
“You’re beat. Go home. It won’t take me two minutes.”
“You sure?”
“Scoot!” He gave Adam a swat on the rump, and Adam, who had

just finished tugging his boots on, punched Bart affectionately on the
shoulder. Then he opened the door of the room, let himself out,
threaded his way through the semidark back of the feed store, and let
himself out into the parking lot.

Diana Sheridan

It was only after he had pulled out onto the street and begun

making his way home that he realized they still hadn’t told each other
their last names or where they lived. Oh well. I’ll ask him Tuesday.

He drove back to Wintersun intending to fall into bed, but when

he got home, he saw that Juan was in the llama pen. What’s he doing
working so late? Instead of parking in his garage, Adam drove to the
llama pen, where he found Juan tending to an injured beast.

“Some damn kid threw a rock at the poor thing and got him in the

leg,” Juan explained. “I couldn’t reach your cell. I left a message. Did
you get it?”

“No.” He had turned his cell off in the noisy bar, left it off during

his tryst with Bart, and forgotten to turn it back on or check for
messages after that. “How bad is it?”

“When I couldn’t reach you, I called Doc Armbruster. He came

over and said he thinks the bone is chipped but not fractured. Was that
okay, my calling Doc?”

“You’re a good man. That was the best thing to do.”
Doctor Armbruster had never tended llamas, only horses and

cows, but there was no vet in or near Wintersun who was experienced
with llamas. He and Adam had come to an understanding when Adam
was first negotiating to buy the farm and the animals—Doctor
Armbruster would do the best he could and would read up on the care
of llamas. Adam, for his part, would understand that the doc was
really not a llama specialist.

“I’ll stay with our girl here. You go home and go to bed. You look

beat.”

“Thanks, Juan. You’re the best.”
“Things are bound to be better tomorrow.”
That guess, unfortunately, was one hundred and eighty degrees

wrong.

Love Among the Llamas

Chapter 2

The first hint of trouble came only a short while after Adam

emerged from the house after breakfast. Molly, the injured llama, was
hobbling around, a sight that satisfied Adam. At least she was up and
walking. Juan was feeding the llamas when Adam came over.

“I told you it was a bad idea to give the public access to the

animals,” Juan told his boss. “Kids can be cruel.”

“So can grown-ups,” Adam said, “but I still think it’s good public

relations, good publicity, and even good advertising. Oops—speak of
the devil, here comes a car now. More locals come to see the llamas, I
bet.”

“Or the ostriches,” Juan said hopefully, but as the car pulled in the

front gate, the driver turned toward the llama pen. A couple and two
kids got out and headed toward the llama pen.

“Can we pet them?” asked the little girl.
“Can we ride them?” asked her brother.
Adam smiled beneficently, though Juan scowled. “No, but you

can stand here and watch them all you want,” Adam said.

“I wanna pet them!” The little girl was pouting and stamping her

feet.

“Listen to the man,” the mother said sternly.
“Do you want to learn about llamas?” Adam offered. “I have a

leaflet here that I’ve made up.” He pointed to a box, nailed to the
llama pen, with a sign on it that said, Take one. Learn about llamas.
There was a sliding glass door to keep the rain out. He opened the
door, extracted a leaflet, and handed it to the mom.

Diana Sheridan

“I wanna pet them!” The little girl was screeching now, and she

tried reaching her hand through the bars of the pen, flailing and
groping toward Molly, the injured llama. Perhaps remembering the
child who had hurt her the evening before, Molly suddenly let fly with
a wad of spit, aimed with precision at the little girl who now seemed
to be threatening her.

“Mama!” The girl ran crying to her mother’s protective arms

while wiping at the offending glob furiously.

“Can’t you control your animals?” the woman snarled furiously.
Can’t you control your little girl? He didn’t dare voice his

thoughts, but from where he stood, Adam faulted the child, not Molly.

The woman waggled her finger in Adam’s face. “You haven’t

heard the last of us!” she threatened as she marched back to the car,
herding her husband and kids as she went.

“Uh-oh,” Juan said.
“What can she do to us? She has no grounds for a lawsuit. Llamas

are known for spitting, and the child wasn’t injured.”

“It’s not that. Those were the Robinsons. The husband is on the

town council.”

“We didn’t break any laws.”
“No laws that are on the books yet,” Juan said prophetically.
Just then, Matt, the ostrich specialist, ambled over. “What was

that about?” he asked.

“Molly spit at a little girl. Juan says her dad is on the town

council.”

“Sheeeeit. Who?”
“Tom Robinson,” Juan informed him.
“Mr. Robinson? He’s the wrong guy to tangle with. At home he’s

a milquetoast. His wife rules the roost. At work and in the council,
though, he’s a big shot with an iron fist and a nasty demeanor. I guess
he pushes people around to make up for being a pushover at home. He
and Mr. Donohue have been working to pass a new law outlawing
exotic pets in Wintersun.”

Love Among the Llamas

“These animals are hardly pets,” Adam pointed out.
“Watch them change the scope of the law. They haven’t voted on

it yet. They can always rewrite it.”

“Yeah,” Juan put in. “They can outlaw any exotic animals within

the borders of Wintersun if they want to. Not just pets.”

“I would still be grandfathered in if I established my business

before they passed the law.”

“I would say you’d have a fight on your hands. A legal fight. An

expensive legal fight. And even if you won the right to keep your
current animals, they could prevent you from buying more or
breeding the ones you have.”

Adam stood there, aghast. Had he sold his home and business in

Delaware to move to a fool’s paradise? Did his llama and ostrich
ranch have no future in Wintersun? Did he himself have no future in
Wintersun? And just when his future was looking so rosy, what with
the encounter with Bart the previous night—Bart, whom he had made
a date with for Tuesday night.

“I’ll go to the meeting and speak out for myself!” he decided.

“Mr. Robinson and Mr. Donohue, huh?”

“There are seven members of the council,” Juan explained. “Right

now, from what I see in the newspaper, five are in favor of the law
against exotic pets, and two are against it. How they would feel about
the scope of the law being broadened to include other exotics, I don’t
know. But Molly’s spitting at Mr. Robinson’s daughter isn’t going to
help our cause any. I can tell you that. She picked the wrong kid to
spit at.”

So Monday evening, Adam put on a string tie with his freshly

laundered western shirt, out of deference to the occasion, and wore a
pair of corduroy pants in lieu of his usual jeans. He arrived early. The
council members weren’t even in their seats yet, but seven chairs up
on the dais awaited the seven members. In the gallery, a smattering of
other people were ready to observe the machinations of the local
government. Adam wondered whether they numbered any exotic pet

Diana Sheridan

owners among them, or whether they were merely there as concerned
citizens who liked to keep an eye on how their elected officials
conducted themselves.

One by one, the seven council members arrived and took their

seats. First was a portly fellow with a handlebar mustache. Next was a
woman in a pantsuit. Then came Tom Robinson, looking brusque and
officious in his bearing. He was followed quickly by a nondescript-
looking fellow talking intently with a tall, no-nonsense type of
woman. And then….to Adam’s great shock, the next one to walk in
and take his place on the dais was Bart!

Adam didn’t even notice the seventh member’s arrival. He was in

total shock that Bart was apparently on the council. Well, Bart had
said he had a meeting Monday night, but Adam had taken it for
granted that it was a business meeting. He’d never dreamed that his
new lover was on the town council! When Bart took his place at the
long, curved table, Adam noticed the nameplate in front of his place.
Mr. Donohue. Bart was the Mr. Donohue who was promulgating the
ban on exotic pets?

Bart looked equally startled when he saw Adam in the gallery,

though he tried to curb his reaction. Adam looked at Bart with a
welter of mixed emotions. Lust and anger tumbled to see which
would top the other, as images of Saturday night’s hot encounter tried
to trump the upset he felt at finding that Bart was one of his nemeses
on the council. Although he knew it was totally irrational, Adam felt
that somehow Bart had deceived him. Of course it wasn’t true, and he
knew it. Bart no more knew that Adam was the owner of the llama
and ostrich ranch than Adam knew that Bart was a council member
opposed to exotics. And, to be even more fair, up until now the
proposed ban had been aimed only at pets, not at livestock. Yet Adam
couldn’t help feeling that somehow Bart had been deceptive.

Tom Robinson gaveled the meeting to order, and the council

proceeded with the Pledge of Allegiance and various reports before
taking up a proposal to put parking meters on Broad Street, the main

Love Among the Llamas

commercial thoroughfare. The naysayers won out on a vote on that
issue, and Tom Robinson moved the meeting along to the next item
on the agenda, the proposed ban on exotic pets. Adam looked directly
at Bart, but Bart was looking everywhere but at Adam.

It was at that point that Tom said he would like to amend the

proposed new law before they voted on it. “I took my family to the
new ranch in town, the one that raises llamas and ostriches. One of
those terrible beasts—a llama, I mean, of course, not an ostrich—spit
at my little girl. God only knows what germs its spit carries. God only
knows what germs those things carry altogether. They don’t belong in
Wintersun. I propose we expand the law against exotics to include
livestock as well as pets.”

The tall woman raised her hand to be recognized, and Tom gave

her the floor.

“I’m not even in favor of banning pot-bellied pigs, caged reptiles,

and pet skunks. I certainly don’t favor impinging on a person’s
livelihood. I can’t see that the owner is doing any harm to our town or
its citizens by raising llamas and ostriches. It might even help put
Wintersun on the map. It could be a kind of a tourist attraction.”

That was when Adam got his next shock. Tom turned to Bart and

said, “How do you feel, Bart, living next door to a public nuisance
like that?”

Bart was Adam’s next-door neighbor?
The tall woman spoke out again, and frostily. “Mr. Robinson, I

object to your inflammatory language. ‘Public nuisance’? I think
that’s a bit extreme and prejudicial.”

At that, Adam stood up and raised his hand, speaking out at the

same time. “May I be heard?”

“Who are you?” asked the portly fellow, blinking myopically.
“He owns the filthy llamas!” Tom Robinson interjected.
“Let’s hear him out,” the tall woman said.
“Very well. You have the floor for three minutes.”

Diana Sheridan

Still standing, Adam looked at each council member in turn as he

spoke, even at Bart, although Bart didn’t meet his eyes. “To begin
with, I didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot with my new
neighbors, but that ranch is my livelihood, and if you declare it illegal,
I’m up the creek without a paddle. Second, I believe you would have
to grandfather me in, since the ranch pre-existed the law, if you pass
it.” He said nothing about their potential ability to ban new livestock
additions to the ranch. “Third, llamas do spit on occasion, and I
apologize to Mr. Robinson for my Molly—that’s the llama who
committed the offense—spitting at his little girl, but while I’m sure
the concept is unappetizing, they’re not particular disease carriers. If
the Robinsons have a family dog, and it slobbers on their kids and
licks their hands and faces, there’s no real difference hygienically
between that and what Molly did. Aesthetically, of course, I
comprehend the distinction, but you can’t argue on the grounds of
hygiene.

“As a side note, I’d like to point out that Molly was agitated

because one of the town’s kids had thrown a rock at her the day
before and chipped a bone in her leg. I had to have Doc Armbruster
out to see her. If you’re going to punish anyone, punish that kid—not
Molly or me.

“Finally, if you’re concerned about interaction between the public

and my animals, ask me to build a second fence and keep townsfolk
and tourists at a greater distance from my llamas and ostriches. That
I’ll gladly comply with. I can post ‘No Trespassing’ signs and put a
gate on the front entry. I thought giving my Wintersun neighbors
access to the animals would be—well, neighborly. And like Ms.”—he
hastily looked over at the nameplate in front of the tall woman—
“Broderick said, it would be a good tourist draw for the town. But if
you have issues with public contact with my animals, I can always
make my property off-limits to all but myself, my workers, and my
invited guests. Putting me out of business, though, is totally unfair

Love Among the Llamas

and un-American!” His voice rose as he finished his speech, and he
felt shaky inside as he took his seat.

“Well put!” Ms. Broderick declared. Tom Robinson glowered at

her. “Do you have any problems with a llama and ostrich ranch next
door to you?” She addressed this question to Bart.

“There haven’t been any issues so far, but of course, the ranch

only opened up a short while ago.”

“Had you even met your neighbor up till now?” Ms. Broderick

went on.

“We haven’t visited each other,” Bart answered carefully. “I

didn’t know who owned the ranch.”

Adam couldn’t help but admire the skillful way Bart had dodged

having to lie in answering the question in the negative.

“I move we leave the law as we originally wrote it, outlawing

exotic pets only. We don’t need to interfere with a man’s livelihood.”
That was the portly fellow.

“I think we should table the vote for further discussion,” said the

woman who hadn’t been heard from yet. “This is obviously getting
more complex than we originally envisioned.”

“Second the motion.” That was Bart.
“You were one of the original proponents of the new law,” Tom

Robinson goaded him. “Don’t you want to see us pass it?”

“In its original form, yes.”
“Then you want to leave the llamas in place?” Tom was pushing

hard.

“I think this calls for further study. I don’t think we should pass

any laws or change any laws precipitously.”

“Would you like to be on a committee to look into the matter,

then?”

“All right. Very well.”
“Who else wants to be on the committee with Bart?”
“I will,” said Ms. Broderick, Adam’s apparent champion.

Diana Sheridan

Tom looked displeased. “Anyone else?” There were no

volunteers.

“Let’s have our first meeting tomorrow evening at my house,”

offered Ms. Broderick. “I suggest you read up on llamas and ostriches
on the Internet before you come over.”

“I, uh, have a previous engagement for tomorrow evening.”
Then he still meant to keep their date! Adam had mixed emotions

about that. Bart was now seemingly his adversary, yet Adam
recognized that there was nothing personal in it. As well, the dude
was still as sexy as hell, and besides the sex angle, they’d hit it off
person-to-person, too. He appreciated Bart’s sense of humor and liked
Bart’s bluntness and forthright ways. Bart had struck him as a
“straight shooter.” It would hardly be fair to blame Bart for not telling
Adam he was on the town council. Adam hadn’t told Bart he owned
the lama and ostrich ranch. It was simply a case of neither fact having
come up during the conversation. No, he was still very much attracted
to Bart, and that was both in bed and out.

Ms. Broderick said Wednesday was out for her. She and Bart

settled on a committee meeting on Thursday, and the council meeting
went on, covering other matters. For a while Adam sat there and
listened, interested to hear how the government worked in his new
hometown. After another half hour, though, when it seemed the
agenda items all ranged from boring to arcane, Adam got up as
unobtrusively as possible and left.

When he didn’t find Juan in the llama enclosure, Adam surmised

that Molly was doing okay. Good! He certainly felt shaky enough,
still not over discovering that Bart was one of his adversaries. He
poured himself a stiff nightcap, and then, too wired to sit still let alone
go to sleep yet, he went out for a walk around his property, carrying
the drink with him.

The night air was cool, as nights can be in central Florida in early

spring, and Adam wished he’d brought a jacket with him. As well, he
found he was just as antsy walking around, as he’d been back at the

Love Among the Llamas

house. He briefly considered that a self-induced orgasm might take
the edge off his nerves and relax him, but then he thought about his
date the next night and realized he didn’t want to dull his appetite. He
still had mixed emotions about furthering his liaison with Bart, but it
seemed Bart meant to keep the date, and he figured he might as well
show up, too. Half of him certainly wanted to. He tried to tell himself
that there was nothing personal in Bart promulgating the anti-exotics
law. Bart hadn’t even met Adam yet when he first got behind passing
the law. Even now, Bart wasn’t sure he wanted the law to apply to
anything outside of pets. Was Bart really his adversary?

Setting his empty glass down, Adam tried twenty brisk laps

around the house to tire himself out and achieved a moderate success.
Maybe he would take a bath—not a shower, but a relaxing tub bath—
he thought, and, retrieving the empty glass, he went inside and
upstairs. But sleep was a long time in coming to him that night.

All day Tuesday he dithered over whether to keep the date or not.

At one point, Ms. Broderick showed up unexpectedly, saying, “Oh,
good, I was hoping I’d find you at home.” She was there, she told
him, in quest of any informative books or leaflets he might have that
he could lend her on the subject of his animals, particularly the
llamas. Seeing an ally in her, he was only too glad to load her down
with materials as well as suggesting some valuable websites she could
consult.

When she’d gone, Adam took a quick tour of the ranch and was

pleased to see that Molly seemed to be hobbling less badly.
Remembering that he was running low on aftershave, he took a quick
ride into Wintersun’s shopping district, hit the main drag, and stopped
in at the drugstore, where he purchased a bottle of a new brand. As he
was waiting in line at the small store’s one register, a wiry little man
with fierce eyebrows looked him up and down and then said, “You’re
the guy who brought those animals to town, aren’t you?” He wrinkled
up his nose when he said “animals,” as if he were talking about
rotting cadavers.

Diana Sheridan

“I’m Adam.” He thrust his hand out for a shake.
Ignoring the outthrust hand, the fellow said, “I’m Bob Parker, and

you’re going to find out the members of the council aren’t the only
ones opposed to your bringing those dirty, strange animals here.” At
that declaration, Adam decided he had seen Bob Parker at the council
meeting.

Trying to inject a light note, Adam countered with, “I think you’ll

find good llamas make good neighbors,” but Bob Parker didn’t smile
or even acknowledge the remark at all. Adam was glad when it was
his turn at the register. He paid for his purchase and eagerly sped
home.

As the hour got later and the sun slipped lower, Adam found

himself fixing dinner in a hurry, going upstairs to shower, and
changing clothes, all without having consciously decided to definitely
keep the date. Yet it looked, he couldn’t help admitting to himself,
like that was what he was about to do. Nattily attired in a blue
chambray western-style shirt, clean jeans, a heavy-buckled belt, and
his ever-present boots, he climbed into his convertible and headed
into Ocala.

He arrived almost fifteen minutes early, but Bart was already at

the bar. Bart’s smile when he spotted Adam was warm and genuine.
“I wasn’t sure you would be here,” he said candidly.

“I wasn’t sure myself,” Adam admitted, returning Bart’s generous

smile with a wry one of his own.

“Now that we know where each other lives, we ought to just visit

each other’s house instead of coming all the way into Ocala from now
on,” Bart suggested.

From now on? Bart not only had shown up but was planning

future dates!

“I’m sure you keep a bottle or two of good sippin’ whiskey

around the house,” Bart went on. “If not, I do.”

Love Among the Llamas

“Oh, I do, although I’ll have to lay in a supply of Dickel for you. I

mostly keep Johnnie Walker black, vodka, and a small bottle of rum.
That covers me for most occasions.”

“Good!” Bart laid a hand on top of Adam’s hand on the bar top

then discreetly withdrew it.

“I was surprised to see you on the town council.”
“You were surprised! I was shocked to know you were the llama-

owner. I had no idea the other night that you were my neighbor. You
understand there was nothing personal in—”

“Of course, but now that everything’s out in the open…well, not

everything, but between us, I mean…couldn’t you see your way clear
to voting against the new law?”

“That kind of about-face would surely raise suspicions. Even if I

were out, which I’m not, changing my mind to favor a lover is very
bad politics. We try to run a good, clean government in Wintersun.”

“Can’t you arrange to let Ms. Broderick persuade you of the

wisdom of her position? Or at least let her persuade you to restrict the
law to exotic pets and not livestock?”

“Let me see how persuasive she is. I’d have to make any change

of heart seem credible. And I really do believe exotic pets should be
outlawed. We’ve already had one incident with an escaped boa
constrictor. It never was found, either.”

“Then outlaw exotic reptiles. What did the poor pot-bellied pigs

ever do to deserve banishment?”

“Gentlemen?” The bartender was standing in front of them.
“I’m still good,” said Bart, who had half a drink in front of him.
“Johnnie black on the rocks, thank you.”
“Water back?”
“Nope. Thanks.”
As the bartender turned away, Bart said quietly but sincerely, “I

really like you. I enjoyed Saturday night, and not only the sex. That,
too, but….”

Diana Sheridan

“Yeah, dude. Me, too. It was a real shock to see you up on that

dais. I had no idea!”

“Well, me neither!”
“So you’re my neighbor? You have a horse ranch over there,

looks like. You’re some kind of cowboy? I wouldn’t have thought
you were the type.”

“Actually, it’s a boarding stable. You’re right. I’m not really a

cowboy. I don’t raise horses or breed ’em or train ’em. I board them
for other folks, mostly folks here in Ocala who live where they can’t
keep horses. Besides being a decent living, it’s an enjoyable one. Do
you ride?”

“Only my convertible.”
“What about riding your llamas?”
“Never tried.”
“I thought they were beasts of burden?”
“I never burdened one myself.” It was a lame joke, but they both

laughed all the same.

“What do you raise them for?”
“Their wool. It’s prized, actually.”
“Prize-winning?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh. Okay. So how did you come to settle on living in

Wintersun?”

“I’d had it with Delaware’s winters, and the insurance business

didn’t thrill me either.”

“Why Wintersun, though?”
“I wanted a small town near a larger city that still wasn’t a major

metropolis, in a climate that was friendlier than what I had up north. I
thought it would be a hospitable climate for llamas and ostriches, too.
Well, the weather’s climate is hospitable, but the emotional climate,
maybe not so.” He gave another wry smile.

“Hopefully it’ll all work out.” Bart’s hand briefly covered Adam’s

again and squeezed it. Cautiously, Adam let his knee drift toward

Love Among the Llamas

Bart’s knee and make contact. Bart moved his knee nearer to Adam’s
and simultaneously smiled at the llama farmer. “Shall we finish these
drinks and get out of here? I think we can both find something better
to do.”

“Are we still going to your friend’s feed store? Why don’t I pick

up a bottle of Dickel for you and meet you back at my place? I could
use another bottle of scotch for myself, too. Might as well pick up
both while I’m in town.”

“Sounds reasonable. Okay, scoot on out and get the bottles while I

pay the tab. I’ll meet you back at your place.”

“Uh-uh. You picked up the tab last time. It’s my turn.”
“Okay, then I’ll go get the bottles.”
“Negative on that, too. Restrain your impatience. I’ll cover the

tab, stop and get the bottles, and meet you back at my place.”

“Headstrong, aren’t you?” Bart gave a low chuckle but stopped

arguing.

They downed the remainder of their drinks. Bart was nearly

through with his, having had a head start, but Adam was still only a
third of the way into his glassful, and he gulped too quickly, eager to
finish up and get on with the rest of the evening’s pleasures. Now it
was Bart’s turn to tell Adam to restrain his impatience.

Finally, though, they both were done, the bar tab was paid, Bart

had put down a tip, and the two men headed back to their respective
cars. Adam had to restrain himself from exceeding the speed limit. He
was that eager to get home and meet up with Bart.

Back home, he unpacked the bag of liquor, took a quick pee,

dropped his drawers, and washed off front and back ,even though he’d
had a shower a few hours ago, all while filling time until there came
the knock at the door.

He had Bart’s drink ready for him, but Bart’s lips were after

something other than the whiskey. “Your drink—” Adam began.

“I’ll take it with me,” Bart said gruffly, mashing his lips to

Adam’s and thrusting his tongue roughly between Adam’s lips and

Diana Sheridan

teeth. As he did that, his one free hand clamped down on Adam’s ass
cheeks and pulled them demandingly toward him as he ground his
thoroughly hardened, if clothes-buffered, dick against Adam’s equally
engorged dick.

Adam’s head swam. “I think we need to get upstairs,” he said,

literally out of breath.

Now it was Bart’s turn to be wry, not in smile but in words. “I

thought you would never ask,” he quipped.

Adam had put out rubbers in advance of Bart’s arrival and pulled

back the covers invitingly. He had maroon sheets on the bed, and he
knew they were going to be rumpled and possibly stained before the
evening was over.

The duo shed their clothes as if the clothes were on fire. Four

boots hit the wall as they were yanked off exuberantly and, in the
process, thrown. Adam insistently rubbered up Bart and dived down
on his dick. He wanted that dick, and he wanted it now. Of course he
couldn’t taste Bart’s dick through the rubber, unfortunately, so after a
while, in search of something sensual and erotic for his taste buds,
Adam reluctantly relaxed his lip-lock in favor of glomming onto
Bart’s balls. The balls tasted of a nice fresh sweat mixed with man
musk, and as Adam lapped at their wrinkled surface, Bart emitted a
luxuriant groan and reached down to pinch Adam’s stiffened nipple
and toy with it until he teased it into an erection as insistent as that of
Adam’s aching dick.

That was when Adam gave up lapping at Bart’s wrinkled sac in

favor of returning to his jutting cock. After all, that was what he really
wanted, taste be damned. He wanted to envelop that entire erection,
though, humongous as it was in its magnificently hardened state. That
was a challenge. But he managed to swallow it, inch by inch, until at
last the whole thing was in his grasp. The corona was down Adam’s
throat and pushing aside the tissues of his gullet. He made swallowing
motions with his throat muscles, which rubbed Bart’s dickhead and

Love Among the Llamas

elicited a heartfelt groan from somewhere in his depths. “Oh!
Yessssss!”

Adam rotated his head in little semicircles to rub Bart’s fleshy

crown even more. Bart ahhhhed loudly. Adam began bobbing rapidly
up and down, engulfing Bart’s entire shaft, then letting it all out but
the very tip, and then swooping down again. Bart started thrusting
upward, jamming his dick deep into Adam’s gullet, hard and fast,
apparently hungry for his sucking throat muscles. Adam laughed,
teasing him and enjoying it.

“You’re cruel!” Bart mock-whined, sitting partway up and

reaching for Adam’s head as he sat up and eluded Bart.

“Oh, but my mouth isn’t all I have to offer you,” Adam pointed

out. Then he flopped onto his back, pulled up his knees, and exposed
his pucker. “I’m not sure I can take something that huge up my ass,
but it’ll sure be fun to try. Just slather plenty of lube on first.”

Adam opened a drawer, pulled out lube, and proffered it to Bart.

Bart coated his dick with massive quantities of K-Y. Then he
approached Adam’s asshole with a huge dollop on his index and
middle fingers, held together.

Adam felt the cool, jelled stuff as Bart’s fingers touched down on

his quivering rosy ring. Then Bart worked it all around Adam’s
wrinkles before finally working one and then both fingers into the
confines of Adam’s chute. Adam felt them slither up within the grip
of his anal muscles, and he clenched tight, enjoying the sensations as
Bart’s fingers rubbed every which way on Adam’s exposed nerves,
making his asshole cry out to be stuffed with something bigger.

But could he take something that big?
Bart stuffed Adam with a third finger then a fourth. Wow! If I can

handle his four fingers, I ought to be able to handle Bart’s dick—or at
least the width of it. But what about the length? He was not only wide
but long. Not just long but huge. Massive!

Adam began to hunch up and down. Bart’s fingers slipped in and

out, lubed well by the generous quantity of K-Y. But when he pulled

Diana Sheridan

them out, and Adam’s empty asshole ached to be filled again, he once
again began to worry that Bart would hurt him if he tried to stuff him
with that thing. Even worse, Adam worried that Bart wouldn’t fit at
all.

But he had to try. He had to experience feeling stuffed and

possessed by that monster. He feared it, but he craved it. Looking at
the dude who was now up on his knees between Adam’s legs, his
humongous erection jutting out at the ready to stuff Adam up his ass,
Adam melted. He wanted that guy in him. Not just because it was a
huge dick, but most especially and specifically because it was Bart’s.
It was Bart’s, and he had already grown strongly attracted to Bart in
just one and a half evenings. Adam lost himself in Bart’s eyes, which
were pure green at the moment, and let out a groan of total surrender.
“Fuck meeee!” he begged. And Bart did just what he’d been asked.

Adam felt the tip of Bart’s dick prod at his puckerhole. For a

minute Adam thought Bart wasn’t going to be able to gain entry at all.
He pushed. He grunted. He thrust forward. He jabbed harder. He took
his dick in hand and tried to help guide it within the clench of Adam’s
ungiving sphincter.

He got nowhere.
And then Bart used a little sideways approach, coming in at a bit

of an angle, easing inward, skewering a bit. Whatever the trick was, it
worked.

Adam had never been stretched so wide. Yes, it was

uncomfortable, to put it mildly, but he didn’t want to push Bart out,
didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to lose that wonderful, huge,
overwhelming slab of a dick that was filling him. And with every
second that Adam kept silent, Bart eased in just a little farther and a
little easier.

Soon Bart’s whole rounded crown was lodged within the very

tight grip of Adam’s sphincter. That apple-like knob just poked into
his torrid ass channel and stayed there, though it felt like it was
growing huger even as it rested within the confines of his butt.

Love Among the Llamas

Suddenly Adam realized that he had been holding his breath, had

been holding his breath and couldn’t any longer. He started taking a
series of shallow, quick breaths. That eased the residual discomfort.
Suddenly Adam felt his hips lifting, not of conscious volition, but
apparently his body had a mind of its own. His hips were lifting him
so that his asshole could gobble up still more of the towering invader.

Apparently taking that as a signal, Bart began to feed Adam still

more of his dick. He was cautious. He eased in just a little. He was
obviously taking care not to hurt Adam. But Adam could feel the
width and length of that mighty tree trunk of a dick. He could feel it
as it touched every nerve without exception that lived in the nerve-
rich lining of his anal canal. He could feel Bart’s length sliding farther
up within the dark reaches of his anal sanctum. And Adam could feel
Bart’s impatience, his need, his urgency. No matter how well he was
holding it in check, he was clearly eager to let Adam have the full
impact of his dick. Now!

“Give it to me!” Adam groaned. And Bart did.
He fucked eagerly into him, and a good few inches more slid up

Adam’s channel and lodged deep up in his gut. Then Bart had the
good sense to wait until Adam grew accustomed to the length and
width of it inside him. Adam panted as he acclimated himself to being
stretched so far. Then Bart fed him a few more inches, paused, and
waited. Adam panted some more. Finally, with one mighty shove,
Bart was fully inside Adam.

Adam felt full, filled, possessed, and owned. Bart’s dick inside

him was ruling his lust, his movements, his body, and his feelings.
Bart was inside Adam, yet clearly Bart had captured Adam, rather
than the other way around. Adam looked deep in his clear green eyes
and lifted his hips to swallow the rest of his huge dick, just as Bart
wanted him to do. Adam felt Bart’s scratchy, coarse pubes tickling his
asshole, and he twisted his ass from side to side. Bart’s pubes rubbed
Adam’s sensitized butthole. Adam quivered. He shivered. He groaned
as Bart started to slide back out again and leave him empty.

Diana Sheridan

But what had Adam expected, after all? Bart had been, finally, in

him to the hilt. There was nowhere for him to possibly go but back
out again. Fortunately, though, once he was out of Adam, all but the
huge knob, there was nowhere for him to go but back in again. In he
thrust. With one mighty, headlong rush, he plunged deep back into
Adam. It even felt like he had driven deeper this time, fully into
Adam, deep into his very middle. Bart was exploring depths of Adam
that no man had ever visited before.

Then he began to ratchet in and out in earnest. Driving deep and

long and hard, he plunged his hard-on in and out of Adam’s hungry,
eager asshole. Adam raised his hips to meet Bart’s drive again and
again and again.

Reaching up, Adam tweaked Bart’s chestnut nubbins, inciting him

to riot. His button nipples elongated into fingers, stiff little fingers as
erect in their own way as his dick—or Adam’s own, which was so
hard that it ached with want. Adam reached down and began to stroke
it. “Let me,” Bart snarled, pushing Adam’s hand aside and replacing it
with his own. As he drove deep within Adam’s anal clench, holding
himself up with one arm, he used his other hand to jack Adam’s
seething hard-on.

Adam was so hot! So ready! But he held back through sheer

willpower. He had to feel Bart explode within his ass, but it wasn’t
just that—he wanted to feel him fire off at the same time he himself
did. In and out of Adam, Bart plunged, driving recklessly now. Adam
could take it. It was tight, but it was doable and painless. Adam
wanted more. He wanted as much as he could get.

And then Adam felt Bart swell even larger within him, and he

knew Bart was about to go off. “Now!” Bart urged Adam. “Now!
Now! Now!”

Adam raised his ass as high as he could. He hunched up and down

as fast as he could. He swallowed every inch Bart had, feeling as if he
were halfway past his navel and heading for his throat. He was so

Love Among the Llamas

large and in so deep. And yet Adam drove his ass up into the air,
swallowing as much of Bart into him as he could.

They were tweaking each other’s nipples now. Each with one

hand on the other’s nubbin, they were pinching and twisting and
generally inflicting demanding pleasure on each other. Bart had let go
of Adam’s dick in favor of his nipple, taking a leaf from Adam’s own
book, and they scrunched their faces up with the effort of driving
toward climax. And then they were there.

Bart emptied into Adam. Of course the rubber caught his

outpouring, but Adam was ready to swear he felt the heat of Bart’s
spewing jizz as it filled the rubber and warmed his gut, and as that
happened, Adam spewed, too. He sprayed Bart’s chest, his own, his
chin, and Bart’s. He couldn’t remember ever spraying so much jizz in
one orgasm in his life.

Spent, limp, sated, and utterly content, Adam melted into a

puddle. Bart fell on top of him, then rolled off to the side. Gluey jism
and well-earned sweat bonded them together. They uncoupled with a
noisy splurrrch. Bart kissed Adam, and Adam kissed him back. Then,
as they lay there, they began to intermittently talk, but not about the
llama farm or the pending legislation. They talked of everything but.

They talked about life in Wintersun, of Adam’s former life in

Delaware, of what a mistake Bart’s marriage had been. He had still
been trying to force himself into a straight lifestyle in those days, a
square peg trying to fit himself into a round hole. Even now he wasn’t
out to his neighbors or family, but he had at least reconciled himself
to who and what he was. If his pursuit of gay lovers over the last eight
years had been clandestine, at least he wasn’t trying to deceive
himself any longer.

“Why not come out?” suggested Adam, who had never mistaken

himself for straight nor tried to fool anyone else into believing he was.
Gay and comfortable in his own skin, he had been out while he was
still a teen virgin. Even back in high school, the majority of the kids

Diana Sheridan

had accepted him at face value, accepted him for who and what he
was, just as he had accepted himself.

“I wish I could,” Bart said with a sigh.
“What’s stopping you?” Adam asked pragmatically.
“This is a conservative town, and I’m on the council. Those are

the biggest reasons.”

“Worst case scenario, you get voted out at the next election.”
“I could lose business for my boarding stable. People might not

want to board their horses with a queer.”

“You’ve been in business long enough now that they know you

for who and what you are, your sexuality aside. You might lose a
customer or two, but I don’t see you being put out of business.”

“You don’t know how conservative this town is. You only just

moved here.”

“The town and its people might surprise you. Give them a

chance.”

“I wish…” Bart sat up as if to terminate the conversation and

reached for his unfinished drink on the night table. At that, Adam sat
up, too, and reached for his. “I’d better get going,” Bart said
regretfully.

“Why not stay over?” Adam offered. Bart didn’t reply

immediately. Obviously he was considering a literal answer to that
question. Why not? What were the reasons?

“I’ve never spent the night with a guy before,” Bart finally

answered in a measured voice. “I always felt I had to get home, and I
never had a guy over at my house. Worried the neighbors would find
out, I guess.”

“It’s your first tentative step out of the closet. Open the door just a

crack. Spend the night. No one will know.” As soon as he’d said it,
Adam thought of his two employees seeing Bart’s car there early in
the morning, and passing neighbors possibly also making the same
discovery, but he didn’t share those mental images with Bart.

Love Among the Llamas

“I’ll do it!” Bart said decisively. “But I think I need a shower

before I hit the sheets to sleep.”

“Me, too. You can go first, though.”
“Why don’t we share a shower?”
“That sounds like fun.”
They enjoyed fooling around in the shower, goosing each other,

soaping up each other’s dicks, and playfully aiming the water spray at
each other, but it was not the prelude to more sex. Both were well
sated from their recent bout.

Naked, Adam padded back downstairs to make sure the door was

locked and to turn off the downstairs lights. Then he returned to the
bedroom and to Bart, who was waiting for him eagerly in bed like a
kid who’s been allowed the treat of his first sleepover date with a
friend.

They held each other, Bart’s chest fur tickling Adam’s chest in a

delightful way. Adam spoke encouragingly of Bart’s new life with his
gayness no longer a heavy secret, making it sound as enticing as
possible, although Bart cautioned Adam that it wasn’t going to
happen overnight. “And above all, I can’t let it seem that I’m
changing my mind about the new law because you and I have become
lovers. That would be political suicide. I’ll have to hold fast to my
position for now.”

Adam sighed heavily and fell at last into a troubled slumber.

Diana Sheridan

Chapter 3

When they woke, daylight was already making its presence

known, though the sun wasn’t up yet. Adam woke up first, knowing
something was different but not remembering what. As Bart stirred
next to him, Adam’s eyes flew open, and he beheld his new lover in
the bed next to him. They had separated from each other’s embrace
during the night, but Bart’s physical proximity to Adam radiated
warmth across the half-inch of bed that separated them.

Concerned that he might have “morning breath,” Adam kissed

Bart on the shoulder rather than the lips. At that, Bart’s eyes opened
with a start.

“I don’t know about you, but I have a lot to do today,” Adam said.

“I need to get up and get going.”

“I have three new horses coming to board this morning. I need to

get home.”

“Let me fix us breakfast first.”
“I really need to get home.”
“You’re not chickening out on me?”
Bart took a minute to respond as if thinking over his answer, but

the answer, when it came, was a decisive, “No!”

“Ms. Bradford is reading those materials I lent her. I hope they

persuade her in my favor. When you meet with her tomorrow night,
let her persuade you, too.” Adam winked at Bart.

Bart shrugged noncommittally. “Let me see what she says.”
He looked out the window to see if anyone was watching before

emerging from the front door. Adam inwardly laughed. Bart’s car was
parked in his driveway in plain sight. Who did he think he was hiding

Love Among the Llamas

his exit from? Bart gave Adam a quick peck on the lips and strode
hurriedly to his car. Adam closed the door and walked lightly into the
kitchen. Bart might not want breakfast yet, but he surely did.

As he had told Bart, he had a lot to do, and the day went by

quickly. It was nearly five o’clock when Matt came loping around the
corner of the house to the outbuilding where Adam was working.
“Boss! Boss! Someone opened the ostrich pen, and two of the birds
got out!”

“Where are they? Did you find them?”
Before Matt could answer, they heard squealing tires out front.

Both men broke into a run, racing to the front of the house to see who
it was. A man they didn’t recognize, ashen-faced and shaky-looking,
came running toward them. “I’ve just killed one of your birds! I’m
sorry! It was an accident, I swear!”

“Are you sure the ostrich is dead?”
“Gawd, yes! Blood and feathers all over the place. I wasn’t

speeding. Honest! The thing just came out between the trees and got
in front of the car before I knew what was happening. What was it
doing out on the road anyhow?”

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Adam answered, while Matt

walked around to the front of the man’s car. Sure enough, it was
splattered with blood and feathers and bits of flesh.

“I’ll go get what’s left of him. It was either Frankie or Squawky.

They’re the two that are missing.” Then, to the agitated driver, he
said, “Where did this happen?”

“Just up the road.” The driver pointed.
“Take a shovel with you, in case you can’t salvage the meat,”

Adam suggested. “You can bury him in the woods. I’ll go looking for
the other one. Let me take the truck.”

Stopping briefly to get a collar and lead, Adam took off in the

flatbed truck, driving slowly and peering to the left and right, as well
as on the road itself for signs of further carnage. Meanwhile, Matt
went in his own car to tend to the remains of the dead ostrich. He was

Diana Sheridan

more successful than Adam, who returned empty-handed, as it were,
or empty of truck, to be more precise.

The unfortunate driver had departed amid reassurances that

nobody blamed him for killing the errant ostrich. Someone was to
blame, however—whoever had left the pen open. “I have to ask, are
you sure there’s no chance you left the pen open by accident?” Adam
questioned Matt.

“Positive!” Matt declared emphatically.
“Okay. Okay. I wasn’t accusing you, just making sure there’s

really nastiness afoot before I go thinking the worst of one of our
neighbors.”

“Do you think it was Tom Robinson?”
“Hard to say. I don’t know the man. He seems to be fighting me

via the legal system, but how can I tell whether he’d take matters into
his own hands, as well?”

“What about your neighbor, Bart Donohue? He could have

slipped over here unnoticed and done it very easily.”

“It wasn’t Bart.”
“How do you know?”
“We’ve, uh, made friends.”
“But he’s against your keeping the ostriches and llamas.”
“Not anymore, I think.” As they stood there talking, the phone

rang inside. Hearing it through the window, Adam ran to get it.

“Is this the owner of the ostrich farm?”
“Yes, this is Adam Witherspoon.”
“I think I have one of your birds here. I don’t know how it got

here, but it’s eating my vegetables and crapping on them, too.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right over. Where do you live?” He grabbed a

pen and a piece of paper from the pad near the phone.

“You have no idea how much trouble I had getting your number. I

didn’t know your name and—”

“Yes, yes. Your address?”
The man at last stopped babbling and gave Adam the address.

Love Among the Llamas

“Come with me!” Adam hollered to Matt as he raced out of the

house holding the paper on which he’d written the man’s address.
Matt and Adam jumped in the truck. Matt drove, as he knew his way
around Wintersun. The small farm was only a short distance from
Adam’s place, and soon they had rounded up Squawky and led him
back to the flatbed truck. “Send me the bill for any damages,” Adam
told the man who’d called him.

“Naw. It was nothing much.” The man had calmed down now that

everything was settled and the ostrich returned to his owner. The man
surveyed Squawky, who was standing docilely on the flatbed, with
Matt holding firmly to the leash. “He’s kinda cute, actually, in an ugly
way. It isn’t every day we get one of those on our property. Does he
have a name?”

“Squawky,” Matt answered.
“Squawky? He never made a sound. Well, that certainly livened

up my day.”

“Ours, too,” commented Matt as Adam put the truck in gear.
The man smiled and waved as the truck eased forward, Adam

driving slowly and carefully. Soon they were back at the farm, and
Squawky was securely back in his pen.

“What’s all the excitement, neighbor?” It was Bart, curious but

cautious, behaving in front of Matt, and now Juan as well, as if he and
Adam were nothing but next-door neighbors.

“Someone opened the ostrich pen, and two of them got out. We

just got one back safely. The other wasn’t so fortunate. He had a run-
in with a car.”

“Yes. I heard something about it. News travels fast in a small

town.”

Indeed it did, but the funny thing was that the incident worked in

Adam’s favor. People who had been uncertain if they wanted an
ostrich and llama farm in their neighborhood were suddenly
sympathetic to the man whose large bird had been killed. They also
were angry at the idea that someone would let the birds out in the first

Diana Sheridan

place. The prevailing sentiment seemed to be, If you’re angry at the
owner, don’t take it out on the poor birds. It’s not their fault.

No, it wasn’t the birds’ fault, but Adam wanted badly to get his

hands on the son of a bitch who had opened the pen.

“It wasn’t me!” Bart declared to the trio of men.
Matt looked skeptical. Juan’s face betrayed no emotion at all.

Adam clapped Bart collegially on the shoulder and said, “I know it
wasn’t you.” This brought a quick look from Matt, who no doubt
wondered why Adam was suddenly so sure of his neighbor. After all,
Bart was one of the council members who’d been in favor of
outlawing exotic animals, and, as far as Matt knew, Bart hadn’t
changed in that position.

“Better not buy a replacement bird till you catch the SOB who did

this. He could be up to more trouble,” Bart advised.

“I suppose you’re right,” said Adam with a wearied frown. “Good

thinking.”

Bart’s words proved prophetic, though it wasn’t at the ostrich pen

that the next strike came. Rather, it was the llama enclosure that was
opened wide. The incident occurred during the night some time.
When Juan went to feed the large beasts on Thursday morning, the
gate was wide ajar, and four of the llamas were missing.

Juan raced to the house, knocking wildly on the front door. Adam,

who was hastily gulping a cup of coffee, had his mind on his livestock
but certainly not the prospect of another escape. He was
contemplating the fact that Bart was to meet with Ms. Broderick that
night. He hoped Bart would do a good job of letting Ms. Broderick
persuade him that the council should leave the ranch alone. When he
heard the loud banging at the door, he put down his coffee mug and
dashed to the front door.

“The llama pen is open! Four of them are gone!”
Adam now had Bart’s phone number and didn’t hesitate a minute.

Whipping out his cell, he dialed Bart and, without preamble, shouted,

Love Among the Llamas

“Can you come over right now? On horseback! We’re on a llama
hunt. Somebody opened a gate again.”

Juan, with two halters beside him and a lasso, drove the flatbed

truck, while Adam, with a couple of halters in the front seat but no
lasso, since he had no skill at using one, drove his convertible. Bart,
also supplied with a pair of halters and a lasso he’d brought with him,
took off on horseback. Matt stayed behind to keep an eye on things.

The convoy was quite a sight as it took off out the front gate,

fanning out when they reached the road. Adam was driving slowly,
looking to either side, when he heard a pounding on the road. Putting
the convertible in park, he looked behind him and, in his rearview
mirror, saw one of the escapees running full tilt up the road toward
him. Close behind the llama was Bart, on horseback.

Adam lacked a lasso, but he turned the car so it was blocking most

of the road. He prayed no traffic would come along the quiet street.
The pounding grew louder as the two animals, llama and horse, got
nearer. The llama skittered when it saw the car then dodged toward
the side of the road. As it hesitated, Bart swung the lasso but missed.
The rope grazed the llama’s neck, spooking the llama and causing it
to veer in its path. Bart swung again and, this time, had better luck.
The lasso landed soundly around the animal, and Bart brought it up
short. Adam adroitly haltered the llama, and Bart led it back to the
ranch and Matt while Adam continued his search.

A call on his cell alerted him that Juan had found another of the

missing animals and was now bringing it back to the ranch on the
flatbed. Then Matt called. “Your phone in the house is ringing like
crazy.” Adam turned around and headed home. Sure enough, one of
the llamas was happily keeping company with a herd of horses at a
farm not far from Adam’s ranch, and another had been spotted
trotting up Mulberry Lane. Adam and Bart went to the horse farm
together while Juan took off for Mulberry Lane.

Diana Sheridan

The owner of the horse farm was aware of local politics and

surprised to see Bart helping Adam. “I thought you were against this
ranch thing?” she said, surprised.

“I’m against keeping exotics as pets,” Bart clarified. “I still

haven’t made up my mind about the ranch, but meanwhile, neighbors
should be neighborly and help out a neighbor who’s in a jam.”

“If he weren’t keeping these—things—in the area, this wouldn’t

have happened,” the woman declared.

But, surprisingly, while a few other neighbors echoed her

sentiments, the majority opinion was in Adam’s favor. Sympathy
swayed even people who had been mildly against Adam’s ranch and
in favor of the broader law’s passage. Bart told him all this later on,
over the phone, and it gave Adam heart as it made him think Bart was
in his camp.

When evening came, Adam ate dinner in solitude, wondering how

the meeting would go between Bart and Ms. Broderick. He also
wondered if the ranch’s nemesis would strike again that night.

He slept fitfully, all the more troubled because he hadn’t heard

from Bart after the meeting. What did that mean, he wondered.

The night passed uneventfully with no further incidents. As he

was pouring his morning coffee, groggy from such a bad night’s
sleep, the phone rang. He feared the worst—another breakout or even
worse trouble—but it was only Bart. “We ended the meeting late last
night, and I didn’t want to risk waking you. You’d had a busy and
eventful day. I thought you might have gone to bed early. I didn’t see
any lights on, although I couldn’t see the bedroom at the back of the
house, of course, but I didn’t want to take that chance.

“The meeting went well. She actually made some good points,

which I encouraged her to bring up at the next full council meeting.
Even if you and I hadn’t gotten so much closer personally, I honestly
think she would have swayed me anyhow. I still want to outlaw exotic
pets, but I definitely don’t want to broaden the scope of the law to
include your animals.

Love Among the Llamas

“And now for an abrupt change of subject—when are we getting

together again?”

“What are you doing tonight?”
“Seeing you?”
“Ding! That was a correct answer, sir, and you win the prize of the

day—dinner and a hot evening chez Witherspoon. You’re invited for
drinks before dinner, and I think we’ll be able to find something to do
after dinner. I’m not a gourmet cook, but you won’t get food
poisoning. Is there anything you don’t eat?”

“Squid and liver and beets.”
“Damn! And I was planning on serving squid with liver topping,

and beets as the veggie. No, but seriously, is that all you don’t eat?”

“Well, I’m sure there are foods I’ve never tasted that I might not

like. I’ve never tried octopus. For that matter, I’ve never eaten
ostrich.”

“Well, it won’t be octopus, and it won’t be ostrich. Speaking of

birds, though, I have a real simple but good recipe for marinated
chicken. It’s a mustard-based marinade. I make a killer homemade
cranberry relish that’s too good to save for once-a-year Thanksgiving,
and that goes nicely with the marinated chicken. And homemade
french fries are really easy-peasy. Does that sound like an acceptable
menu?”

“Fine. May I bring the dessert?”
“You are the dessert!”
“What time should I get there?”
“Does five-thirty work for you?”
“See you then.”
That night, Friday, Bart showed up eagerly at twenty-five after

five. “Am I too early?”

“You’re nice and early.” They kissed. Adam had already poured

Bart’s drink as well as his own. The outside temperature had dropped,
and Adam lit a fire. It lent atmosphere as well as warmth to the room.
“So tell me about your day,” Adam suggested, and Bart shared the

Diana Sheridan

less-mundane details of what had transpired since he had last seen
Adam.

Then he said, “Your turn,” and Adam answered, “Thankfully, it’s

been quiet, except for the visit from the sheriff’s department.”

“Oh?”
“Well, I called in a vandalism report on the two recent incidents.

Of course, the sheriff had already heard about them.”

“I told you news travels fast in a small town.”
“A deputy came out and interviewed me. He asked if I had any

suspects. I told him there are plenty of people who oppose the ranch,
or at least did until the recent trouble. Now I think not as many people
oppose it as before. At least, that’s what Juan and Matt are hearing
around town.”

“Like I told you yesterday, that’s what I’m hearing, too.”
“I told the deputy that just because someone opposes the ranch in

principle, though, that doesn’t mean they’d do something like open
the pens and let the animals out.”

“What did he say then?”
“He mentioned a couple of people who’d been particularly vocal

against the ranch. He wanted to get my reactions.”

“Like who?”
“Your name came up.”
“Oh? What did you tell him?”
“Just that we’d made peace. That you helped with the llama

roundup as a good neighbor, and that Ms. Broderick had talked you
into accepting that the ranch and other possible future places like it
shouldn’t be outlawed. I told him I was one hundred percent positive
you’d had nothing to do with it.”

“Which deputy was it?”
“His name tag said ‘Andersen.’”
“I think he’s one of us.”
Adam’s eyebrow went up.

Love Among the Llamas

“I always thought he was gay. Of course, he never came on to me.

I’m too closeted for that.”

“Were too closeted. You’re leaving that closet, buddy. I’m out and

proud, and none of the problems I’m having now stem from my
sexual orientation.”

“Most of the folks around here don’t know yet that you’re gay.”
“And I’m sure most won’t care when they do find out.”
Just then a timer bell dinged, summoning Adam to the kitchen.

When he returned, he said, “Dinner’s halfway done. I just turned the
chicken over.”

“Too lazy to turn itself?”
“Too dead.”
“What is it, a whole chicken?”
“No. Boneless, skinless breasts.”
“I wondered when you said ‘turn it over.’ I’m getting hungry.”
“I’m getting hungry for you. I’m also getting hungry for the time

when we can be open about this. Hurry up and slam that closet door
on your way out of it. I like you. I appreciated the way you got right
into the llama hunt yesterday, too. I want more, more, more of you.
But right now I just want to get you in bed.”

“Ditto.”
After dinner, in the bedroom, Adam got undressed and unwrapped

his hot neighbor from his clothing. Although Adam had showered
before starting dinner and was sure Bart had showered, too, before
coming over, Bart was turned on enough to be exuding pheromones.
From his curly pubic bush wafted a masculine aroma of sweat and
hormones that defied his recent shower and titillated Adam’s nostrils.

Adam noted the well-defined muscularity of Bart’s legs. Thickly

muscled, they were forested with that same dark hair all up and down
them that coated his chest in lesser profusion. The most appealing
feature, though, was certainly what hung between those legs. His cock
was already almost fully erect and formidable looking as ever, a thick
slab that reached for the ceiling like the Sears Tower reaches for the

Diana Sheridan

sky. Drooling a fat tear of glistening pre-cum, it jutted out over Bart’s
fat nuts in their wrinkled sac.

On impulse, Adam crouched down, licked Bart’s hairy ankle, and

then worked his way up that sturdy calf and thick thigh to Bart’s nuts,
which he lapped at, savoring the salty sweat that clung to them, while
Bart’s dick bobbed anxiously above his face. “Ahhh, yes,” Bart
groaned. “Yes. Yes! Suck that thing! Suck my fat dick.”

Adam reached for a rubber without ever taking his tongue off

Bart’s bulging sac, snapped the latex in place, and then licked his way
to the base of Bart’s dick and up to the tip of his towering flesh. When
Adam reached Bart’s bulbous glans, he swirled his tongue around and
around it, dipped into the tiny opening through the latex, and finally
encircled the mushroom cap with his lips.

“Yes! Yes!” Bart groaned. “Suck it. Suck that thing. Take it all!”
Adam took it all, but it wasn’t easy. It was more than a mouthful,

but the overage went down his gullet. He sucked it in one inch at a
time. Working his way unbearably slowly down Bart’s pulsating
shaft, Adam made him suffer while he dragged out the descent in
increments of an inch, going ever lower and taking more and more in,
but not letting it happen too quickly. Bart was panting shallowly and
intermittently moaning. Finally, he grabbed Adam’s head and pushed
him the rest of the way down his dick. Clearly he couldn’t bear the
“torture” any longer.

He was still standing. As he pushed Adam’s head downward to

the base of his dick, Adam pushed Bart’s body backward so he
tumbled back onto the bed. He fell heavily and landed on his back,
with his legs over the side, hanging down to the floor. Adam crouched
between his spread, muscled legs and engulfed his entire slab of cock
in his mouth.

Turning up the suction, Adam began backing slowly up Bart’s

erection, letting more and more of Bart’s dick out of his mouth, till
finally he was at the tip, encompassing just Bart’s mushroom tip in his

Love Among the Llamas

mouth. Then he swooped back down and rapidly engulfed the whole
thing again.

Bart’s hips began to buck on the bed, driving his dick upward so it

arrowed its way into Adam’s welcoming maw. Adam put his hands
under Bart’s butt and grabbed those muscular globes. Digging his
fingers into Bart’s butt cheeks, Adam pulled Bart’s butt up harder and
faster, compelling Bart to feed him his cock in hard, quick jabs, while
he continued to work his way up and down with his lips.

Under such provocation, Bart couldn’t last long, and when Adam

squirmed a finger between those tight buns and up his clenched ass,
probing for his prostate, he lost it and sprayed a shower of thick jism
into the bulging latex. His load was large and warm, and Adam’s
tongue savored the warmth right through the rubber.

Adam thought he would fuck Bart next, but Bart had other ideas.

“No, dude. It felt so good when I fucked you last time, I want to fuck
you again.”

Adam looked at Bart’s half-hard cock with the latex still on it.

“Can you get hard again that quickly?”

“You’re going to help me. Jack my dick. Get it good and hard.

And where’s your lube? You know from last time how big and thick
this thing is. I need to get you good and greasy first.”

Adam stripped the used rubber carefully off Bart’s half-hard

erection and tied it off, then worked to get him fully hard again. His
hand grasped Bart’s dick and rhythmically worked back and forth on
it. He watched as Bart’s woody reblossomed into a full hard-on very
quickly. He felt it swell in his grasp. Soon it was as rigid and ready as
if Bart hadn’t just gotten off a couple of minutes ago.

That was when Adam reached for the lube and another rubber. He

slid the rubber on Bart, then added more lube to the lube that the
condom came packaged with. He knew the small amount of lube that
was already on the rubber wasn’t going to be nearly enough to let him
take that dick with ease.

Diana Sheridan

Bart was more than ready. “Gimme that hole,” he said, his voice a

growl. “Let me see it.”

Adam got in position on the bed, his head buried on his forearms,

his butt jutting up in the air, his legs slightly spread. Bart got behind
him and prepared to take him. First he slathered what felt like half a
tube of jelly on Adam’s asshole. Then he worked it in with his finger.
He wasn’t any too gentle, but Adam knew from past experience that
this was nothing compared with how it was going to feel when Bart
thrust that thick slab of dick up his butt.

Bart’s finger worked its way into Adam’s asshole over and over,

pushing the jelly in and stopping to tickle the nerves inside as he
spread the jelly around. When Bart had apparently decided that Adam
was finally loose enough and greasy enough for his entry, he pulled
his finger back and shoved the tip of his dick roughly against Adam’s
puckerhole. Then he gave a careful yet strong shove.

The first thrust got him nowhere. His second attempt got him in,

but his entry, as good as it felt, burned. Then, however, he got deeper
into Adam, and the pleasure grew. Adam gloried in the good feelings
spreading through his jam-packed canal. There wasn’t a nerve up his
canal that was left untouched by the thick invader that had claimed
possession of his ass and was plunging in and up as if it meant to
reach his mouth by burrowing upward. Adam certainly encouraged
Bart by slamming backward so his hungry ass swallowed every inch.

His coarse curlies ground against Adam’s still-burning rim as

Adam slammed and twisted and gulped him in greedily. And Bart
leaned down and bit Adam’s shoulder like a male dog claiming a
bitch for himself. Just then, Adam was Bart’s bitch and glad to be.

Adam felt his climax building in him, and he wanted Bart to come

along with him. “Give it to me. Give it to me,” he urged his lover.
“Sperm me.”

“You, too,” he said. “Let me see your cum squirt.”

Love Among the Llamas

“Oh, it’s going to!” Adam panted as he jacked his hips backward

to capture more of Bart’s dick. “Give me. Give me. Gimme. Gimme.”
He was wild with unfulfilled need and incapable of coherence.

Then Bart reached around and grabbed his dick, tugging on it just

a couple of times, but that was all it took. Adam groaned as his balls
emptied, and his jism spurted across the sheets. Within his innards he
could feel Bart’s dick pulsating as it delivered its own load of warm
cream into the rubber.

Bart pulled his softening dick out of Adam’s asshole while the

rubber was still holding on. Sleepily, he tied it off and placed it on the
night table. “I need to nap for a while,” he said, yawning. It was only
eight-thirty, hardly bedtime.

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Bart woke up to find Adam

was holding him in a close embrace while listening to his Walkman
through his headphones. “Gawd, I’m rude! Why did you let me sleep
so long?” the embarrassed Bart asked Adam.

“Obviously you needed it—and I was okay. I had these to listen to

and you to cuddle.” He indicated the CDs he’d been listening to
through the device.

Bart looked at the bedside clock. “Might as well go to bed for real

and just get up early in the morning. Mind if I spend the night with
you?”

“I’d mind if you didn’t.”
“You know, you’re really growing on me, neighbor buddy.”
“Like a barnacle?”
“Smart-ass!” Bart cuffed Adam affectionately. They each put an

arm around the back of the other’s neck and squeezed.

“Let me go lock up and turn the lights off.” Adam slid out of the

bed while Bart headed to the bathroom. When both were back in bed,
they snuggled together, facing each other, and talked for a while
before drifting off.

Diana Sheridan

“I hope you can persuade the other council members not to

expand the new law,” Adam said through a yawn, feeling that sleep
was about to finally claim him.

“I hope they don’t realize I have a personal interest in the

outcome.”

“Aren’t you ready to step out of the closet yet?”
“That’s not the problem. It’s a conflict-of-interest issue. Bad

politics.”

Just then the pair heard a gun go off. Startled, they got to their feet

and ran to the window. They saw Juan, near the llama enclosure,
chasing a retreating figure, who sped off in a car.

All thoughts of discretion gone, the two men jumped into their

clothes and hurried downstairs. Juan was standing near the fence gate,
holding a gun, and he looked startled to see Adam and Bart rushing
toward him together.

“What happened?” Adam asked.
“I had a hunch we’d have a visitor tonight, so I hid out in the pen.

Sure enough….”

“Did he do anything threatening to you?”
“He tried to open the pen.”
“You’ll get in trouble for firing at him.”
“Florida has a Stand Your Ground law,” Bart explained to the

Delaware transplant. “I think Juan has a good chance of the law
coming down on his side. Now we have to find out who has a gunshot
wound in their leg.”

“Let’s call the sheriff.”
Adam had left his cell phone in its charger cradle, so he had to go

inside and use the landline. Bart went with him, as did Juan. Adam
briefly flashed on the fact that all the downstairs lights were out,
making it obvious that he and Bart must have been upstairs together,
and Juan, no lamebrain, would surely put two and two together. Adam
dialed the sheriff’s office and reported the incident to the deputy, who

Love Among the Llamas

said he would call the hospital and make appropriate inquiries as well
as sending out another deputy to take a report.

When the deputy arrived and asked questions, Bart admitted to

having been at Adam’s when the shot was fired.

“What were you doing here?” A logical question under the

circumstances, especially given that Bart’s backing of the new anti-
exotics law was common knowledge around town.

“Visiting.”
The deputy looked long and hard at Bart but let it go

unchallenged.

“Did you see anything that transpired?”
“We didn’t know anything till the gun went off,” Adam answered.

“Then we looked out the window and saw the suspect running away
and Juan chasing him.”

“Could you ID the suspect?”
“Negative.”
“What about you?” The deputy looked at Bart.
“Too dark out there. There’s that one light. It’s not enough to

identify a person who isn’t standing right in the circle of light.”

“Could you see what make or color of car the suspect was

driving?”

“No, but it was a sedan.”
“Which window were you looking out?” The deputy looked

around at the two living room windows.

“The bedroom,” Adam answered quietly.
Bart, whether he was happy about it or not, was now officially out

of the closet.

Diana Sheridan

Chapter 4

With all the hullabaloo, Adam and Bart didn’t get back to bed

until after two, and then neither could fall asleep for a while.
Although Bart had gotten in that long nap early in the evening, Adam
hadn’t, so he was the worse for wear of the two of them when they
finally woke up the next morning. It was late, and the sun was well
up. Adam was hungry. “How does bacon and eggs grab you?” he
suggested, but Bart demurred. He really needed to get home now, he
said.

Adam let him out the front door just as Matt was approaching.

Matt’s face registered surprise at seeing Bart leaving at what still was
a relatively early hour. He must not have talked to Juan yet…but it’ll
be all over town soon enough. Bart, to his credit, didn’t flinch on
running into Matt, nor did he try to cover his tracks. After a cheery
“Good morning!” to Matt, he turned to Adam and said, “I’ll call in a
few hours and see what the sheriff has turned up.”

“I heard about our late-night visitor,” Matt said.
Just then the phone rang. Adam turned quickly to go answer it,

beckoning Matt to come in, and waving to the departing Bart. It was
the sheriff’s office. They wanted to send a deputy with a statement for
Adam and Juan to sign. “Do you have any clues to who the perp is
yet?” Adam naturally wanted to know.

“We have a suspect. We’ll want to examine your hired man’s gun.

The deputy needs to bring it back with her.”

Deputy Logran, an attractive blonde with a no-nonsense air,

arrived in short order. Yes, she told Juan and Adam, they had a
suspect. A man had shown up at the hospital last night with a bullet

Love Among the Llamas

wound in his leg and a fishy story to explain it. This had occurred
shortly after the incident at Adam’s ranch. No, he wasn’t in jail, but
he was definitely a suspect.

“Who is it?”
“Do you know Bob Parker?”
“The fellow from the drugstore. Yes, I had a run-in with him. He’s

seriously opposed to the ranch. This makes perfect sense. Are we safe
in assuming he’s the one who let the ostriches out, too?”

“He hasn’t confessed to that yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”
When Deputy Logran had left, taking Juan’s gun with her to

match to the bullet removed from Bob Parker’s leg, Adam called Bart.
Getting voice mail on Bart’s landline, he tried the cell and caught up
with Bart in his stable. “Bob Parker’s our suspect from last night,”
Adam announced without preamble. They discussed Parker’s part in
the opposition, and then Adam asked, “When am I going to see you
again?”

“I’ve got the kids again this weekend. I can come by tonight if

they go out, which I’m sure they will, but I won’t be able to stay over,
even though I plan to tell them this weekend.”

“Tell them?”
“That I’m gay.”
“Good man!” Adam said approvingly.
“I’d rather they hear it from me than in whispers around the

community.”

“Are you nervous?”
“Yes, but I’m mainly relieved. Secrets are such a damn burden! I

hated living a double life. Now I can give my friend back the key to
his feed store, too. I won’t be needing it. I have you.”

“You have me for keeps if you want me.”
“For keeps? That’s a pretty hefty commitment.”
“This is some conversation to be having over the phone. Want to

come over?”

Diana Sheridan

“I can’t. Too tied up. The Warringtons are on their way over with

their latest acquisition, a three-year-old gelding I’m to board.”

“You board the gelding, and I’ll board you.”
“Board me?”
“I’m suggesting you move in. Hell, your property’s right next

door. We could tear down the fence if we wanted to.”

“That’s quite a jump—from living closeted to not only being

openly gay but living with you.”

“If you’re going to take the plunge, take a real plunge.”
“It’s a tempting thought. Let me mull it over.”
“You’re already out, even though you didn’t plan it that way. And

if the deputy who was here last night, and my hired man, Juan, have
big mouths, it’ll be all over town that you were in the bedroom with
me when the pen was opened. Face it, your secret life’s no secret
anymore. Might as well enjoy it to the fullest.

“Hey, not to change the subject, but when is the next council

meeting? If they announced it, it must have been after I left the last
meeting.”

“Monday night. We normally meet every other Monday, but with

this proposed new law on the table, they added an extra session. Are
you coming?”

“Make book on it!”
Adam didn’t have time to fix anything fancy for their Saturday

night dinner. There was too much going on. Part of it was neighbors
dropping by. Some were simply curious. Some wanted to see the
animals, as they put it, “while they’re still here, in case the ruling goes
against you.” Others dropped by in a show of support. Their
comments ran along the lines of, “We’re on your side, man. You’re
not a public nuisance or creating a problem of any kind. We’re behind
you. We just wanted you to know.” Adam was truly gratified at the
outpouring.

He wondered how many of these townsfolk also knew he was gay.

Bart had told him news traveled fast in a small community like this.

Love Among the Llamas

Adam suspected that many of his neighbors who were now being
supportive were doing so in spite of now knowing he was “one of
them.” Wanting to encourage Bart, he called him up and shared that
observation with him. “Just watch. I’m sure you’ll get a few people
who treat you differently when they find out, but for the most part, I
bet they treat you the same as ever.”

“I hope so. I hope you’re right. It’s certainly nice to hear you’re

getting that kind of a show of support.”

Dinner, though, suffered as a result. He had no time to go to the

store to get what he needed to cook something impressive. For that
matter, he had no time to do the cooking of any kind of halfway fancy
meal, either. He had a half-eaten ham in the fridge, and he put
together some potatoes au gratin with ham chunks mixed in, and a
red-and-green salad, the red being tomatoes, red bell peppers, diced
red onion, and radishes. Altogether, it was satisfying and tasty but not
as special as he would have liked to present to Bart.

Bart came over at five-twenty, looking haggard. He kissed Adam

hello and said, “I hope you have a drink ready.”

“I do. What’s the problem?”
“I just laid it on my kids that I’m gay.”
“It didn’t go so well?”
The younger one was no problem. He claimed he knew all along!

I’m floored. It’s the older one. He went, ‘Ick!’ He said he wouldn’t let
me hug him anymore ever again.”

“He’ll get over it. Where is he now?”
“He went home to his mother’s.”
“And the younger one?”
“He blew it off like no big deal and said he didn’t know what

Todd was making such a fuss about. He’s at the arcade now. He told
me to go see my boyfriend and forget about Todd. Easier said than
done.”

“You told them about me, too, then?”
“Well, Avery asked if I had a boyfriend, so of course I said yes.”

Diana Sheridan

“Dinner should be ready about six fifteen. I wasn’t sure what time

you were coming over.”

“I wasn’t sure if I was coming over.”
“Well, you’re here now.” Adam put his arms around Bart and

gave him a big hug, which Bart returned gratefully.

They finished their drinks in relative silence, broken occasionally

by conversation, but Adam didn’t feel they had to be talking every
minute, and apparently Bart didn’t find the silences awkward either.
They were settling into a comfortable companionability with each
other.

Dinner was surprisingly good and satisfying. Stuffed full, the

couple postponed going upstairs until their meal had had a chance to
settle, but finally they were both too horny to wait any longer.

Hurrying up the stairs, Bart eagerly led the way. Adam followed

behind, admiring the sleek curve of Bart’s butt cheeks. Adam
undressed quickly, but Bart took his time, which gave Adam a chance
to admire every inch of that marvelous body as it was slowly
revealed. It seemed a shame to him cover Bart’s massive dick, which
he really enjoyed looking at, but latex was a necessity.

When he had it covered, Adam wrapped his lips around it.

Swirling his tongue around the bulbous glans, he tantalized Bart’s
sensitive dickhead and felt him squirm and shiver under his touch.
Then Adam slowly descended that long, strong column until at last
his lips were almost at Bart’s base. Bart took care of getting that last
inch or so inside Adam’s greedy mouth. Bart punched his hips
forward so hard that he drove his dickhead and the couple of inches
that followed into Adam’s throat.

Contracting his throat muscles around Bart’s swollen knob, Adam

massaged Bart’s dickhead with his muscles, feeling the warmth of his
pre-cum as it oozed rapidly into the receptacle end of the rubber.

Adam was crouched in front of Bart as he stood next to Adam’s

bed, and Adam reached out and grasped one strong, firm leg, then ran
his hand up it till, at last, he had Bart’s balls in his clutch. A quick

Love Among the Llamas

squeeze and then Adam began rhythmically massaging that scrotal
sac, feeling the hairs tickle his palm. Bart began to sway on his legs.
Removing his mouth from Bart’s dick, Adam said, “You’d better lie
down.”

“I-I wanna suck you,” Bart mumbled thickly.
So they settled onto the bed, and Adam latexed his own dick.

Then Bart knelt between Adam’s legs and wrapped his hand around
Adam’s waving dick to steady it. A second later, Adam felt Bart’s lips
touch down on the tip of his dick.

At first Bart teasingly just kissed Adam’s dickhead. Then his teeth

cautiously began to graze at his covered glans, careful not to damage
the rubber. His tongue followed, licking Adam and swirling in
swooping circles around his quivering dick. And finally he spread
those lips and encompassed Adam’s knob in their grasp.

Bart’s lips were grasping Adam’s shaft tightly now, and he was

sliding up and down Adam’s dick. Adam tried to lie still and let Bart
call the shots, but after a while he grew more needful, and it was hard
to lie still when his hips were eager to pump his dick down Bart’s
throat. He began to bounce around on the bed, his rump lifting up and
powering his dick down his lover’s avid gullet.

Then Bart apparently got the idea to mess with Adam’s balls

again. Bart’s hand grasped Adam’s sac and squeezed at first, but then
he changed up and began tickling instead, tracing light-touching lines
up and down and around, teasing and tormenting Adam, while Adam
fucked harder and deeper into his throat.

Bart’s hand left Adam’s balls and skittered down, down, into his

ass crack, deep in his cleft, probing for his asshole. Adam lifted up to
give Bart easier access. Bart’s finger was dry, but he still managed to
work it in. Adam felt that determined finger as it worked its way
within his anal clench, and then it was burrowing deep up his channel
and wiggling around to tantalize his muscles.

Under all this stimulation, Adam fucked harder and faster, and

Bart sucked him in rhythm with Adam’s motions. His suction was just

Diana Sheridan

right, neither too strong nor too light. “Use your tongue,” Adam
begged, and Bart added some tongue dancing on the underside of
Adam’s shaft to the mouth motions he was treating Adam with. Adam
was rapidly nearing climax.

“Hurry up and come,” Bart said in a growl. “I want to fuck you.”
Bolts of lightning shot through Adam’s asshole at that prospect.

He knew very well what Bart’s huge dick felt like up his ass. The
thought that he was about to get fucked by that monster dick again
sent him spiraling right to the edge of orgasm. Bart was about to have
a tidal wave of seed explode in his mouth. If the explosion was half as
big as it felt like it was going to be, they’d be lucky if Adam didn’t
rupture the rubber.

Adam looked at his cocksucker from next door and reveled in the

eagerness with which Bart was sucking his dick. His brows were knit
with concentration, and his expression was somewhere between
blissed-out and determined. He was working very hard to give Adam
the best blow job he could, but he was having one hell of a good time
doing it.

Well, Adam was having one hell of a good time, too. He was so

close to shooting his load, he was going to spray that rubber with a
healthy shot of jizz any minute. Any second. Now!

His balls rumbled and gave up their load. Contracting inward,

they powered out a stream of cum. Adam’s hefty wad splatted into the
rubber, and Bart obviously felt it, purring his appreciation and
sucking all the harder. Slowly, Bart eased up on his suction, gave
Adam’s balls a final squeeze, and sat up.

“Dynamite!” Adam commented. “Thank you.”
“My turn,” Bart asserted.
Adam raised his legs, exposing his ass pucker. Bart licked his

finger, depositing a goodly quantity of saliva, and then he took aim
and worked Adam’s asshole as loose as he could, lubing it with spit as
he did. But they both knew that wasn’t going to be enough to ease the
way for that dick. After driving three fingers in and out for a couple

Love Among the Llamas

of minutes, Bart slid back out, reached to the night table for the lube,
and lubed up Adam’s asshole with a generous glob of gel. Then he
placed his rubbered dick at Adam’s wrinkled bud, pressed forward,
and slid the snout of his dick inside the grip of Adam’s anal sphincter.

With continued pressure and determination, he fed more and

more, inch after inch, of his impressively sized cock up Adam’s
clenching asshole. As much as Adam welcomed that dick, it was a
tight fit, and accommodating it inside wasn’t easy. Adam felt the burn
as Bart’s meaty dick slid its way in and in and in, spreading Adam’s
hole gaping wide, burrowing deep up his gut. Bart determinedly never
stopped until Adam’s hole was the possessor of every inch of Bart’s
massive dick.

When finally his hairs were grinding against Adam’s asshole, Bart

pulled out and then shoved mightily back in again, then out and in and
out and in. He chugged back and forth with determination, plunging
deeply with every stroke, until Adam’s dick took on a renewed
hardness. He had removed the rubber, and pre-cum was now oozing
onto his belly like sap from a tree in spring.

Adam’s hard-on resembled a tree trunk, too. Thick and hard, it

climbed up his belly and grew by the minute. He needed to rid
himself of a fresh load that was building up in his balls, so he
wrapped his hand around his dick. Bart saw him, though, and
displaced his hand, replacing it with Bart’s own. Matching the strokes
of his hand to the strokes of his dick, he jacked Adam’s cock in the
same rhythm with which he was fucking Adam’s asshole. They
rocked to the rhythm of the rut in synch with each other, and soon,
Adam’s balls were building to the bursting point again.

So were Bart’s. As his face turned a darker color, sweat ran down

his face, dripping down to Adam’s belly. Adam reached up and
tweaked one of Bart’s nipples, and Bart jacked him faster, harder,
more demandingly. Under his insistent demands, Adam had no choice
but to give up his load. As Bart’s hand worked over Adam’s yearning

Diana Sheridan

shaft, his cum flushed up from his balls, splattering down on Bart’s
eager hand.

Then Bart’s half-lidded eyes flew open, only to close fully, as he

gave one last plunge deep within Adam, emitted a groan from
someplace very feral inside him, and unloaded deep up in Adam’s
depths.

He collapsed onto the bed alongside Adam, but even as he lay

there panting, his hand began idly toying with Adam’s dick again.
“Insatiable bugger, aren’t you?” Adam teased.

“That’s not an objection, is it?”
“Shit, no!” Adam laughed and grasped Bart’s dick in his hand. “If

you can find another load in there, have at it!” Stripping the rubber off
and tying it securely, he began idly jacking Bart’s still-stiff cock.
They lay there, lazily jacking each other, until Bart had come off
again and then, finally, Adam did, too.

“I’ll be glad to get rid of these rubbers,” Bart said out of nowhere.

“Now that we’re committed to each other, we can get tested and stop
using rubbers. It’ll be one less household expense after I move in with
you.”

After he moves in! Wow, he really is coming out of the closet all

the way!

With great regret, Bart got up off the bed and wearily back into

his clothes. “I don’t want to alienate the one kid I have left. Let me
get home before he does.”

“The other one will come around, too. It was just a shock. Give

him a chance. Unless your ex riles him up against you…?”

“No. She’s a good egg. She’ll take my part. She’s really

something else! There were times I wished I was straight so I could
stay married to her. Obviously I never should have married a woman
in the first place, but I was deep in denial.”

“I guess it was a big step when you left her. You’ve taken a few

more big steps lately. Good on you.”

“Moving in with you will be the icing on the cake.”

Love Among the Llamas

“I love you!” Adam said impulsively.
“I love you, too, neighbor dude.”
They hugged, and Adam accompanied Bart downstairs to let him

out and lock behind him. Adam looked around outside while he was
downstairs, but all was peaceful and quiet. Good! He went back in,
locked the door, and went back upstairs, but he was way too excited
to lie down and try to sleep. Bart is really moving in!

Even when he finally lay down, though, sleep was a long time

coming. He kept thinking about Monday night’s council meeting.
What if the majority of council members were still in favor of
expanding the new law to include all exotics? What if he was forced
to move elsewhere? What if Bart wouldn’t or couldn’t go with him?

The time dragged until the meeting. Sunday and Monday seemed

to be creeping. Even a message from the sheriff’s department that
Bob Parker had confessed to being the perpetrator of all the gate
openings was scant balm for Adam’s nervousness. How would the
council vote go? What if he had to move—alone?

He got to the meeting way early and was surprised to see the large

turnout already assembled in the gallery. A few were the usual
hangers-on who attended every meeting, but most were there because
of the struggle over exotics. Some were themselves owners of
potbellied pigs and pythons, one was an iguana owner, and there was
also a woman whose kids had a pet skunk. More were there because
they were aware of the fight to stop Adam in his tracks. Most
surprising, the majority of these were on Adam’s side. Moved by the
story of the ostrich that had been killed through Bob Parker’s
malfeasance, they had shown up in support. And they don’t care that
I’m gay, either! They surely all know by now.

Tom Robinson gaveled the meeting to order at 7:01 p.m. and

immediately called for a committee report. Ms. Broderick, speaking
for herself and Bart, said that the committee recommended the ban on
exotic pets but not on exotic livestock. Several of the pet owners
asked to be heard and made impassioned pleas to the effect that their

Diana Sheridan

skunks and pigs were hurting no one nor harming the environment nor
endangering their neighbors. Tom Robinson spoke out against exotics
of all sorts, but it soon became clear that the tide of sentiment had
turned against him. At the end of a very long and contentious
meeting, the council passed a law banning exotic reptiles—and
nothing else. The potbellied pigs, the skunks—and most importantly
of all, Adam’s ranch—were all safe.

“Congratulations!”

people

all

around

him

clamored.

“Congratulations!” They thumped him on the back enthusiastically.
There was just one person, however, whom Adam was looking for
among the crowd. Bart, it seemed, though, was all involved in details
with the council and still stuck on the dais.

Well at least, Adam thought, nobody seemed to be shunning him.

Surely by now it was common knowledge that he was gay. It didn’t
seem to be making a difference. No one was acting repulsed or
indignant. They were crowded around him looking very much like it
was “business as usual” up on that dais.

At last, Adam went home without seeing him.
Juan and Matt hadn’t retired to their respective dwellings. It was a

mild night, and they were waiting outside for Adam when he got
home. Both men literally ran to Adam’s car as he pulled into the
driveway. As he eased toward the garage, he flashed them a thumbs-
up and a triumphant grin. That told them the gist of what they wanted
to know. After he got the car parked, Adam filled them in on the
details.

“Great news, boss!” Juan exulted.
“Yeah!” Matt echoed. “Sure is!”
The phone was ringing as Adam entered the house. “We won!”

Bart’s exultant voice said without prelude when Adam answered.

“Do you want to come over and celebrate?” Adam asked.
“No. I’ve got a big day ahead of me tomorrow.”
“Oh?”

Love Among the Llamas

“Yeah. Tomorrow’s moving day. Plus, I’ve got a fence to tear

down. The one that separates what used to be my house from the one
that used to be your house and is now going to be our house.”

“Our house.” It had a lovely ring to it. Almost as lovely a ring as

“Adam and Bart.” Almost as lovely as the “I love yous” they’d
exchanged the other night.

Adam knew they’d be a very happy couple indeed.

THE END

HTTP://WWW.BOOKSTRAND.COM/DIANA-SHERIDAN

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

No stranger to male/male stories, Diana Sheridan edited gay

male sexzines for the better part of two decades under the nom
de plume of “Dan Maxwell.” Though “Diana Sheridan” isn’t her
true name either, it does reflect her true gender. In her own
name, she has had numerous books published both in print and
as e-books, is an accomplished editor of both books and
magazines, and is comfortable switching gears to go from
serious nonfiction to erotica in her work. Diana lives with her
Significant Other, who is fully aware of and supportive of the
many facets of her career.

Also by Diana Sheridan

Siren Allure ManLove: Finding Mr. Wright

Siren Classic ManLove: Mating Michael

Siren Classic ManLove: Caught in a Web of Intrigue

Siren Classic ManLove: Hitting the Hot Notes

Siren Classic ManLove: Trent’s Torrid Tempter

Siren Classic ManLove: Casting Call for a Lover

Siren Classic ManLove: Damian’s Lost Lover

Siren Classic ManLove: Survivors of the Virus Storm

Siren Classic ManLove: Island of Promise

Available at

BOOKSTRAND.COM

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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