Date: Sat, 03 Apr 2004 17:08:29 -0700 From: Joseph Farrin Subject: The Summer of Three Boy Cocks It was Saturday morning. I had slept late and I was in the kitchen drinking my first cup of coffee and having a bowl of cereal when I heard the mailman come up on the porch and put some mail in my mailbox. Junk mail for the most part, but also a letter from an attorney in Beaver City, Nebraska. The letter was to inform me that as the only heir of my paternal, great grandfather, I had inherited his farm, including the house and outbuildings, furniture, vehicles and farm equipment in addition to all his monies and other properties. I wondered how in the hell the attorney had traced me. It had been years since I'd heard from John, my great grandfather. Since it was Saturday, the guy wouldn't be in his office so I found my atlas and looked up the location of Beaver City, Nebraska. It didn't look exciting. Suffice it to say it was a dot on the map near the Kansas state line and roughly half way between Blow Torch, Texas and Twenty Below, Montana, probably with the worst climate characteristics of both places. I sure as hell wasn't intrigued with the name. A straight guy I worked with was always full of talk every time he hooked up with a new girl friend and would brag about what a wonderful "beaver" she had. The first time he used the term I had to ask him what the hell he was talking about. It was his term for a girl's pubic hairs -- yuck, yuck, yuck! The teen-age kid next door ringing the doorbell interrupted me. I knew both parents must be away for a while and when that happened he was always quick to trot over so we could mess around. I loved it. He was a good-looking young kid named Kevin - tall, slender, long brown hair. His best, most captivating, feature was his bright, blue eyes; I loved to watch them, and his whole face for that matter, when he was horny and especially when he was engaged in a sex act. There was absolutely nothing that Kevin liked better than sex with another guy, especially with a guy somewhat older than he was. By the way, I am 27 years old. It was really a special treat to watch the kid as he was climaxing. When I'm jacking off I can always cum when I start thinking about his eyes. He had a super dick for a kid -- 6 inches, good girth and a nice cockhead. The skin on his shaft was fair and smooth, completely free of veins, no pronounced circumcision line and his head was a nice shade of pink. His hands were nice, too, and I loved to watch them as he played with his meat or played with mine. My cock is a lot like Kevin's only an inch longer and the cockhead is kinda funny, I think. It isn't formed in such a way that it's easy to describe with one word. The best way to picture it is for you to grab your dick, and with a finger placed near the head and on the bottom of the shaft, pull back on the shaft and your cockhead will sort of flatten out over the end of your shaft - that's what mine looks like all the time. Kevin liked mine as much as I liked his. This morning I think I have what is going to be a surprise that he'll be very pleased with. Last night I was tired and didn't go out to any bars, so I stayed home and when I got out of the shower, I shaved my pubes and my balls. I liked it -- it made my dick look even bigger than it was. As always, it didn't take but a few minutes of conversation before Kevin made his first move, reaching down into the front of my pants, and saying "Anything up down there?" or something similar. He grabbed my shaft and really didn't notice I'd shaved. "You gonna shower, I'll shower with you if that's OK?" "I showered last night. Think I'll skip it for now and wait until evening." "I'm kinda raunchy. I haven't showered since Thursday." "Don't worry, Kevin. I like you when you're a little raunchy. I love to stick my nose down in your boy crotch and smell it. In fact, it turns me on." "Sometimes I think you're weird." "I think everyone in the world is weird, to one degree or another, so what?" We went to the bedroom. Kevin always remarked how much he liked getting in the sack with me, especially when the bed wasn't made and we were all cozy on the same sheets I had slept on. When I raised my butt off the bed and he pulled down my pants and my shorts, his eyes immediately got that wild look. "Holy Shit, Joe, you've shaved your pubes off. Why did you do that?" "I thought you might like it. It looks bigger now, somehow. As he was stripping, he said, "I love it, I absolutely love it", and after kicking his jeans down to the foot of the bed he got up on one elbow and had a close-in look at my naked genitals, licking and kissing them all over -- fondling me until I was rock hard, as was he. Kevin always liked for me to go first, so I wasted no time in getting down to the business of sucking him off. Sucking him was a real pleasure, not only the looks and taste of his beautiful boy cock, but also because he got so excited and so hot. Despite all that, Kevin was one of those guys that didn't cum easily. He was just a hard one to make shoot. Of course, this just increased and prolonged my pleasure. When he finally did make it, the experience must have been unbelievable for him -- his body would jerk, his cock would swell up and he'd pump out an incredible amount of sweet, boy cock juice. Monday, I called the attorney; his name was David Bentley. The estate turned out to be a farm with the house and other improvements, where John had lived, plus another sizable piece of land that he leased out. The money, he described as nothing spectacular, probably roughly $100,000 depending on the value of some of the stocks he had. Shit -- that seemed sizable to me and I decided to spit my job, go down and have a look at the properties rather than have him just send the legal papers I needed to sign. When I got back and told Kevin about it and that I intended selling my house here and moving down there, he had a fit. He didn't want me to go and asked when school was out in a couple of months if he could come down and spend the summer helping me. There was stuff to do with the house. I knew that John at one time had a woman who came in once a week to clean after he had taken ill, but I could just imagine that she did a minimal job. It needed a good cleaning out and then some painting and wallpapering. So, I agreed to waiting until Kevin was out of school. Shit it would be fun to have Kevin for three months -- teen cock every night -- it got so I could think of nothing else and was really elated when his parent agreed to the plan. That night, when he came over to tell me he'd gotten the OK, we celebrated with a hot session of cocksucking. Too, we mulled over and agreed on a plan whereby I would wait until Kevin was out of school in two months, I might as well wait until then to sell my house and take him to Nebraska with me. The two months passed quickly. I had everything packed, not that I had a lot of furniture. Although, I did have a couple of new, really great beds, including the king sized one I slept in. The house was listed with a realtor, Kevin's parent's had keys in case of an emergency and we left late afternoon of the day the moving van had everything loaded. We got as far as Yuma, Colorado and checked into a nice motel, ate dinner and picked up some beer. I thought we'd watch TV for a while but Kevin had other plans. The kid was so fucking horny I couldn't believe it. After three beers he just went wild. We jumped into bed and his boy cock was more swollen and hard than I had ever seen it. Again, unusual for him, he started on my cock first -- it was usually the other way around. I blasted off in a hurry; he turned around and jammed his swollen pole into my mouth. This was one night he wasn't difficult to bring off -- he was on his back when his legs shot up and over my shoulders, he crossed his legs lower down and squeezed my head between his legs just as he erupted -- his cock was like a cannon that had been fired and his sweet juice poured out from it and into my mouth with such force and in such quantity that I had a little difficulty in swallowing it. He uncrossed his legs and literally collapsed on the bed with me atop him. "Oh, Joe, that was indescribable. Thank you." "Damn, I've never seen you so fucking hot!" "I know. Just knowing I was away from the rents for three months, free to be with you, it just got to me." "If you're this hot every night, I might not last through the summer." "Don't shit me, Joe. You're a horny bastard and will take all you can get." "The truth comes out -- so that's what you think of me?" "That's what I know of you -- why the fuck do you think I was so desperate to spend the summer with you -- you handsome, hot, horny cocksucker. Lets have a few more beers and I bet we can do it again -- especially if I kiss you and get you all horned up again." Kevin had not been into kissing, when he grabbed me, pulled me down and we sucked face for a long time before he turned me loose. "Did you have a problem with your parents over your coming with me?" "Not my mom, but with my dad." "What happened there." "He out and out asked me what the attraction between us was." I said we were just friends, that's all there was to it. He said he'd take my word for it but asked if I'd have a separate room. I told him you had described it as a huge, old farm house with 8 or 9 rooms, so we might not even be sleeping on the same floor." "You mean you actually lied for me?" "As it turned out, I was prepared to but didn't have to." "What do you mean?" "My dad told me to never let you touch me in any way that was offensive to me." "So, I replied that we'd been friends for four years, ever since that first summer I'd mowed your lawn and you'd never touched me in a way that I found offensive." The conversation ended abruptly when he stuck his now hard again cock into my mouth and for the second time within a few seconds I took him all the way. He returned the favor. As soon as I discharged my load, I collapsed. God was I tired -- it had been a long day. I left turning off the bedside lamp and that stuff to him. The last thing I remembered was his throwing his arm around me -- it was the first time we had ever spent the night in bed together. The next afternoon, late, we arrived in Beaver City -- the attorney had told me in the event his office was closed, he'd leave an envelope with keys to John's house and truck with the cashier at the Home Café. We found the place with no difficulty, found clean sheets, although they were a little musty from having been in the linen closet, so we made the bed, slung the bedroom windows open and went back to town for some beer and something to eat at the Home Café. I had never lived in a small town but had heard a lot of people describe the experience, which turned out to be all too true. Everyone was curious as to who you were and what you were doing in Beaver City -- the boldest had no qualms at even asking very direct questions, which I learned to love ignoring -- it was none of their fucking business, really. Going back to the farm, I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water and noticed a note on the counter from David Bentley. He had left bread, eggs, bacon and milk in the fridge as well as Corn Flakes and coffee in the cupboard at the far right. Also, he invited me to lunch tomorrow -- call him for the time and place. To my surprise, Kevin was still all fucked out and tired from the motel in Wray. So, we cuddled, went to sleep and I woke only once to close the window because there was a lot of thunder and lightening, which turned into a rainstorm. One, good nights sleep fixed him up and restored his sex drive. When he woke up and as soon as he'd waddled off to take a leak, he was ready for it again. How things had changed. Our chances of having sex used to depend on the absence of both of his parents. Now the only thing it depended on was how long it took a teenaged boy to recover from his last climax. That was OK with me. I could swallow his love juice as many times as he was able to pump some out the end of his teenage cock. Oh how I looked forward to the coming summer in Beaver City -- Kevin's boy cock would more than compensate for all the shortcomings of the town. Most women and some men like to get fucked by a penis; both like to suck on a penis. What puzzles me is - why is there so little written, so little recorded on film about just looking at the male penis? After all, the male sexual organ is not only the symbol but also the essence of manhood and male virility. It is a beautiful thing to look at -- flaccid and hanging down between the legs or erect and protruding. In the erect stage it is indescribably erotic, arousing and totally magnificent, with the scrotum, hanging behind the penal shaft, with it's highly aroused testicles inside, and the cockhead enlarged and gorged with blood, ready to discharge a gift, unique in the world, to anyone who can bring it all the way to climax. Yes, it is indeed a wonderful sight to just look at. Actually, we didn't know where to start on the house. John didn't have a desk, so I started with the dining room buffet and found a lot of papers in there, including some old stock certificates and I didn't know if they were of any value or not so I put them all in one place to show the attorney. There were several built-in bookcases full of old books, all on the musty side -- so we decided to start by just throwing a lot of stuff away -- throwing it out the back door into a wheelbarrow and starting a burn pile out between the house and the barn, after the books it was packages of food that had been opened, but unused. We burned that right away, as I didn't want to attract rodents. Then it was his old clothes. Next were old, worn dishes, photo albums, basement junk -- some burnable and some not. Kevin took a real fancy to the hayloft. He'd never spent any time on a farm and, for that matter, he liked poking around all the old, out buildings. Every afternoon, he wanted to take our afternoon break by grabbing some beers from the fridge and going up into the hayloft, getting naked, drinking a few beers, messing around for a while, usually followed by some kissing and eventually getting down to masturbating each other simultaneously or sucking cocks. Getting a lot of sex seemed, among other things, to sharpen our sexual needs. By the end of two weeks we were both good for three climaxes every day. We both felt so free doing it -- there was so much privacy out here and he had no parents to worry about. He opened up a lot, talked more to me everyday about how he'd started experimenting with a couple of friends from school, how it drove him crazy the way I'd look at him before anything happened between us. How much he liked my genitals and how my making him climax was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. Unfortunately, our second week was to be our last week. His dad called and told him he had changed his mind and wanted him to come home as soon as I could drive him back. I had Kevin call him back and tell him it was impossible for me to take him home for a week. Kevin, despite being a good student, is a quiet, laid back guy for a teenager but when he got off the phone he started cussing. I had never heard him cuss before, but he knew all the cusswords I'd ever heard plus a few I hadn't. He was so angry with his dad; ultimately he began to cry and I had a hell of a time calming him down. I finally had him get into bed with me and I wrapped my arms around him, held him close, ran my fingers through his hair and told him how much I loved him. We decided to get away for the week and go to Omaha. I found some rent boys and we pigged out on sex. The most exciting one was a young black guy with a sort of chocolate milk colored skin, black, mirthful eyes and a cock that was out of this world -- an 8 inch masterpiece of man meat that, when flaccid, arched out over his balls, before it hung straight down. I let Kevin do the honors with him and I just masturbated as I watched them. He was a good cocksucker for a kid and was able to take most of it into his mouth. Of course, the experiences we had kept us all horned up and we had an incredible week crowded with sex between the two of us. It was two weeks later before I heard from Kevin. I had given him $500.00 -- he really had worked hard all the time he was with me. He was calling from a cell phone that a friend of his had and he was calling from the friend's house. His dad wouldn't let him phone me; was convinced that I had been in the boy's love hole. I didn't really understand where the dad was coming from -- Kevin was good looking, but all boy at the same time. His voice had changed and it was as deep as mine, and people sometimes remarked, even during a phone conversation, that I had a very deep voice. I certainly had never been tagged as being gay, either. His dad made him go to a doctor and, among other things, get a test for HIV. The test was negative and the doctor told his dad that Kevin had a tight sphincter and there was no evidence whatever that he had been molested. Then the dad got on his case because he never dated girls. The main reason for his call was to tell me that his dad wouldn't let him call or write and he wanted my e-mail address and told me he had an Internet e-mail address, too, with a name no way indicative of his real name and a complicated password. It was safe to correspond by e-mail and to be on the safe side he would delete all my mail immediately after he'd read it. I really missed the kid and got absolutely nothing done for a couple of days after getting back home. Finally, I decided to get started on some interior painting and wallpapering. There was no paint store or building materials outlet locally, so Wednesday morning I took off in John's pickup, which I really loved driving -- I'd never had a truck. I went to Holdrege and found an old-fashioned paint store. A 16-year-old boy, the owner's son waited on me. He was full of questions -- what surface was I painting over? Did I know how to measure for wallpaper? I knew he sensed I was totally ignorant about painting and wallpapering, so he volunteered to drive down and look at the house Sunday afternoon, even though he knew I lived quite a good distance from Holdrege. So, meantime, I went home with some paint, brushes, rollers, trays, paint clothes and other stuff sufficient to get a start. Sure enough, Sunday afternoon he drove up; he caught me working and wearing only sneakers and a cut off pair of jeans -- which, believe me, I had cut off very short -- not that I had anything specific in mind when I cut them off. The kid's name was Pete and he had a ton of wallpaper books for me to choose from. He helped me measure the rooms, told me the quantity of paper required depended upon how the pattern matched. I asked him if he wanted a beer, which we drank while he went through the books making suggestions for the various rooms. He was a total blonde and good looking as hell. He last name was Swanson, so I assumed he was probably Swedish. His jeans weren't cut off but they were sure as hell tight and I saw him erect while we were sitting facing each other. I had no shorts on and I knew he was able to occasionally see one of my balls or the end of my cock several times when I spread my legs. Before too long, Pete asked if he could have another beer, so I went to the fridge and grabbed two more cans. When I returned he wasn't in the room where we'd been talking but called and said he was back in the room I had identified as my bedroom. Thinking he was probably re-measuring or something, I went in to see if I could help him. Holy, fucking shit, he was in bed, on his back, naked and playing with his beautiful, well-hung cock. I had my cut-off jeans down on the floor and stepped out of them in record time. "Don't get into bed yet, just stand beside it. I was looking at that thing -- what I could see of it - now I want to take a good look at the whole thing." "Well, I've been curious about what you had, too. And believe me its very nice, I love it." "Yours, too. Your cockhead is enormous; get in bed so I can play with it." As things turned out he had masturbated with a couple of high school friends and not much else. We spend the best part of an hour in bed and before he got up I had given him his first, full-fledged blowjob and, following my example, he went down on a man for the first time in his life. "God, Joe, I'm glad you and I did that together. I know I'm gay but really didn't know what to do. I knew they fucked and I wasn't quite ready for that. What we did was so good. I loved it. Thanks." "Thank you Pete. I loved every minute of it. It's not often I get to take a young boy's virginity and it's something every man dreams of. Can I kiss you?" He didn't reply but just pulled me over and started French kissing me. "What else do guys do with each other?" "Actually there are a lot of minor variations to what they can do -- involving different positions -- that sort of stuff. I have some male porn videos that portray some of the stuff if you want to watch them." Eager to do so, we went to the living room, still naked and for the first time I got a chance to look at his long legged, slender body with a dusting of fine blonde hairs on his arms and legs and the extent of his blonde "beaver", which was absolutely beautiful. As the video progressed, he became fascinated with a guy fucking his partner's mouth and wanted to try it. I leaned back on the couch and rammed a couple of pillows under my head. I told him not to do it too hard. He was gentle and varied his strokes between long and short ones, between quick and slow ones and shallow and deep ones. He caught on right away (well, what is there to catch on to, really?). He got me so excited because he kept up a constant dialog -- "Oh God -- I've never wanted to fuck a pussy even though guys are always talking about doing it. Nothing could be better than this -- your mouth is so warm and wet and it feels so good when you close your lips around it." As soon as he delivered his "cocksucker's reward" he collapsed atop my chest and I let him rest for a few minute before I pushed him aside and mounted him. I was totally erect and so hard that it was almost painful. As he had done, I filled his mouth first with cock and ultimately with my love juice. On leaving he explained my wallpaper selections were from several sources, some very prompt, some not so prompt. Anyway, he'd call when they arrived, come down the following weekend with paper hanging equipment, which they rented, and he'd get me started with my project and I could pay him then. I walked out to his car with him, he grabbed me and kissed me and said: "Oh, Joe, there's no way I can thank you enough. In a few short hours, you have taught me what I've been dying to know for years." With that he kissed me and groped me through my pants, said goodbye and got into his car, honked and waved as he pulled out onto the road to town. Saturday he called to tell me the wallpaper had all arrived and he'd be down Sunday afternoon again. He had all the necessary equipment, showed me how to measure the paper to allow for pattern matching, cut, paste it, hang it and trim it at the ceiling and the baseboard. It was a good thing he did, as I really didn't have a clue. Later, about half way through with the first room, I was sick of it and pooped besides. It was up and down the ladder and things progressed slowly with just one guy doing it. I thought my legs were going to be permanently cramped. When Pete was sure I had the hang of it, he stepped up on the ladder until his face was even with my crotch, undid my shorts, pushed them down and sucked me off while we were still on the ladder. Well, he sure had a good imagination and the exercise got me off in record time. He got down and went to the kitchen, coming back with a couple of beers, walked over to the couch, laid down and stripped off his jeans. I couldn't refuse the invitation, so I joined him. That, of course, ended the paper hanging for the day. After another round of beers, Pete said: "Joe, remember that video last Sunday where the two guys were sucking each other at the same time and you told me it was called 69? "Sure." "After we finish our beers and rest awhile, I want to do that, OK?" "It's definitely OK -- just say when." Well, we did it, right there on the couch. And did I enjoy it. His teenage, smooth cock and his blonde pubic hairs were all a cocksucker could ask for especially when it was rock hard with desire to cum. Pete was totally beautiful and his love juice was totally delicious -- what else could it be when it came from such a beautiful cock. That finished it. He had to split but said he'd keep checking up on me. I told him to send me another gallon of the paint I was using on the kitchen walls via UPS and put it on my charge ticket. A week later, on a Saturday evening, Pete called and wanted to know if he could come over and bring a couple of friends and just hang out for a while. I got busy, went to the local store and bought some steaks -- not knowing how many friends were coming I got six T-bone steaks, fixings for a salad and some potatoes that I could fry. Two of the friends, both Swedes, were from Holdrege -- one, Chris, was real sexy looking and the other was too close to being obese to be good looking. The third one, which he explained to me later, had recently moved from Holdrege to Beaver City. From his name I judged him to be of German decent -- it was John Mueller. What a fucking sexpot he was but kinda the silent type. I knew he was 5'-10" because he was the exact same height as I was. He had really short, jet black hair -- not a crew cut, but like ˝ inch long and a pale, cream colored completion. He was wearing a red T-shirt, very worn jeans and sport shoes that could nly be described as down-and-out. He was so fucking thin you could read some of his bone structure, like his shoulder blades, right through his T-shirt. After everyone had grabbed a beer and migrated to the TV, Pete motioned me out on the back porch. "Joe, I appreciate this. We just needed a place to hang out and let loose. The two guys from Holdrege are straight. But I'm 90% sure John's gay. I've never had him, but if anybody could find out, it's you. So watch him. I've seen his cock and he is hung big-time." "Shit, Pete, he looks like a fucking kid." "He is. He's 14 but skipped a grade back in elementary school so he was a freshman in high school last year. This fall he'll be a sophomore, can you believe it? "Only because you just told me. I'd never have guessed it." In a way I wished Pete hadn't told me that. I was instantly horned up and had to really watch myself that I didn't become too obvious. Half an hour, or forty-five minutes later, John walked out the back door and eventually headed toward the barn. It was still light outside, probably a half hour from sunset. I had no clue as to what he was doing, but I grabbed my cigarettes and two beers and went to find him. "Hi, Joe. Hope you don't mind. I was just looking around. I've grown up in rural areas but I've never spent any time on a farm. I love this barn." (He made me think of Kevin with that remark.) "I just inherited this farm and like you it's my first experience on a farm. I kinda like the barn and outbuildings myself." "You live here by yourself?" "Yea, and its kinda lonesome at times. I saw you walking out here and brought you a beer." "Thanks." "Want a cigarette?" Shit, I was so boned up that I prayed he didn't notice it. "Joe, how do you get up to the loft?" "There in the back corner is a ladder. Want to see it?" "Yea, please." I threw open the doors where you hauled hay up to the loft and we stood at the edge of the floor looking out. "Wow! I'd like to piss out the door and see how far I could piss, do you care?" "Shit, that sounds like fun, I'll join you." I saw, for the first time, his cock. It was as pale skinned as his body, at least 6", probably a fraction more when erect. A magnificent, purple colored head capped it. Either he was cut or his skin pulled all the way back -- shit, I didn't want to get caught staring. He really had to go and it took him a long time to empty his bladder so I got a fair look at his boyhood. Well, that was that. Nothing else happened and we went back to the house. >From then on he was more talkative and told me he was having a bad time with his mom and he was very stressed out but glad Pete had brought him here tonight. It kinda got him away from it all for a little while. He also helped me fix the salad, barbeque the steaks, clean the potatoes, grease a pan and get them on the grill before the steaks were done. He was sure a nice kid; he volunteered much the same information about himself that Pete had given me. He opened up to me quite a bit and I really enjoyed the closeness and our chat, as well as his extreme good looks, long fingers and how polite he was. Everyone just helped themselves to the beer, but he always asked if he could have another one. About 10 o'clock every one split and I settled down to watching TV. At 10:30, I heard a car drive up, turned on the porch light and saw that it was Pete's car. I assumed he had forgotten something. He jumped out and came up on the porch to tell me that when they took John home there was an old suitcase and a paper bag at the curb plus a note with two words: "Good Bye." John was a mess; Pete didn't know what to do and asked me if John could stay with me for a few days. I followed him back to the car, helped him and John get the suitcase and bag out of the trunk and they took off. I threw my arm around John's waist and walked with him back to the house. "Joe, I'm sorry." "Hey, guy, remember I told you it's lonely out here. I'm glad to have you. I really am." Once inside, I told him I thought he needed something stronger than a beer, went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Hennessey's Brandy and two snifter glasses. I know. It was wrong giving liquor to a kid but he had been drinking beer so I smoothed my conscience by telling myself that at least I was not the first one. He took a long time sipping the first one, but asked for a second one, which I poured a little more generously. I excused myself and told him I was going to get some clean sheets from the linen closet and make him a bed in the second bedroom. "Joe, please don't. I don't want you to go to a lot of trouble. Can't I just sleep with you?" "Sure you don't mind?" "I'm sure." Well that's where we ended up and I knew I wouldn't sleep a wink. Kevin and I were too used to grabbing the other's genitals whenever the desire hit us and I sure didn't want to do that to John on the very first night. Of course I watched John undress. He took off his T-shirt, jeans, athletic shoes and socks and that was all he had on. He crawled into bed naked -- the way as I always slept. Oh my God. It really was going to be a sleepless night for me. About three in the morning I got up to piss and returned to bed (being summer, there was already enough early-morning light that you could see). I was quiet, as I thought John was asleep, even though he had changed positions and was now lying on his back. After two minutes, though, John said, "Joe, are you asleep?" "No, I've just gotten back in bed, I had to get up and take a piss." "I can't sleep." "I'm sorry. Probably being in a strange bed, that sort of stuff." "And more." "What do you mean?" "Well, I caught you looking at me in the barn. Do you ever fool around?" I rolled over toward him, threw my leg over his body, put my hand on his chest, and found his mouth with my lips. I never did answer his question with words. He took my hand and moved it down to where his cock was sticking straight up from his body. Well, it wasn't sticking straight up. The kid had a bent down cock. I whipped the sheet back. I just had to take a look at it. I had seen pictures of guys with bent cocks and had developed a real fetish for the bend down ones. God, it was magnificent. I had never seen a cock that so instantly and completely turned me on. It was totally hard and the head just peeked a little bit through a little opening at the tip of his foreskin. You could see the exact size and shape of his head -- a nice helmet cockhead. It had grown a little, now that it was erect. "Jack it off for me and then I'll jack you off." I'd rather suck it. Is that OK?" "I've never had a blowjob but I hear they're out of this world. You can pull the skin back over the head, it's loose, but it will stay there when you get it behind the rim of the head." Taking a thumb and a forefinger, I slowly pulled back on his shaft, watching in amazement as more and more of what was now a very large, deep purplish-red, helmet shaped cockhead slowly emerge into view. The very sight of it filled me with a lust that I'd never experienced the likes of. The sight of it and the knowledge that I was soon going to be taking it between my lips made my 7" cock throb with excitement. John did not help when he reached down and grabbed my dick, saying, "I love your big, cut cock, it's beautiful." "It pales in looks in comparison to yours, John. You are truly a work of art especially when it's erect and on your thin, pale skinned body. Believe me, it's the hottest cock I've ever seen." I started out slowing, intending to make this, my favorite pastime last -- sucking on a boy cock making it want to give me its love juice. "Oh my God, Joe, I've never felt anything like this in my life. Every time I varied the technique by even the slightest, he would ask, "What are you doing now?" Getting no verbal response he finally lifted himself up on his elbows and watched me. It was obvious he needed to cum from the first moment he spoke to me and cum he did, all too soon his teen juice flooded into my mouth in a quantity I had never experienced before. Without saying anything, he turned around and began sucking on mine. I needed it as badly as he had and I too shot off quickly. He hadn't done it before, that was obvious, but he followed my example and swallowed. We then started French kissing for what seemed like a good ten minutes, before our lips parted. Relaxed, we both fell asleep and it was almost noon before we woke up. The first thing I did was roll over on my side to face him and wrapped my hand around his beautiful boyhood. "That's quite a cock for a 14 year old." "It's beautiful. I especially like the head." "So I noticed when you were sucking on it." "You aren't angry with me for doing that, are you?" "Hell no, Joe. I can't wait until you do it again. I told him to shower and I'd make coffee and start breakfast. When he came into the kitchen, he had on his jeans and that's all. While eating, I said, "I hope you're planning on staying a while." "I don't have anywhere else to go, if you don't mind." "Mind -- God I'd love it" We started unpacking his clothes, of which he had the minimum amount. Most of his stuff needed washing so we put it in the washer and I showed him where to hang his stuff and what dresser drawers were empty, so he could use them. Shortly after 1 o'clock the phone rang. It was Pete. "How's John doing?" "OK, he's going to stay with me." "So." "So what?" "Come on Joe, you know what I mean. Did you get him?" "Yes." "Come on, Joe, give me some details." I told him what had happened after he had left and he said, "Jesus, I'm jealous. You're making me hard just hearing you talk about it." Chatting with John, I discovered that he had really had a rough time as a kid. His mother hardly cooked anything to eat and when she did it was barely editable. (That explained his thinness, which eventhough I found sexually exciting, I intended to get him fattened up a little.) Another kid, one that lived down the block aways, had cut his hair. He didn't want to call his mom, said she didn't give a shit that's why she just left his stuff on the curb, turned out the lights in the house and either went to bed or went out somewhere. "Joe, I don't have any idea of what I would have done had I not been with Pete. He was so angry with my mom, he wanted to go down to the sheriff's office and report her. The sheriff would probably have forced her to take me back and reported her to the child abuse authorities, but I didn't want to go back. I've had enough of her. Pete right away suggested coming back here. Thanks, Pete, I really needed you and you came through for me." "John, I really would like you to stay with me. Will you do that? Would you just think of it as your home and me as a big brother, or something? Are you sure you don't want me to call your Mom and tell her where you are and that you're OK?" "No Joe. She wouldn't be interested and I don't want her to know where or how I am." I moved over closer to him on the couch and wrapped my arm around his shoulder and pulled him toward me. We sat this way with our arms around each other until John moved his face close to mine and kissed me. I could see that he was almost in tears. Joe, I think you're still pretty well worked up and you said you didn't sleep last night. Why don't you take a nap and when you wake up I'll fix an early supper? While you're napping, I'll take your clothes out of the dryer and throw your shoes into the washer. I've heard that you can wash them eventhough I never have tried it. I took his clothes from the dryer, and decided to iron them. Thinking he'd help me with the paper hanging, I just folded his oldest pair of jeans and ironed everything else including his T-shirts and put them on hangers. His jeans I also ironed after a spray of fabric finish. They looked a lot better. Then I did his three sport shirts and the one shirt he had that had a collar and long sleeves, again spraying it with fabric finish. When he saw them he said that was the first time any of his clothes had been ironed. He thanked me and said, "Joe, you're the first adult person that has ever shown any interest in me." "John, can I tell you something?" "Shoot." "I know it sounds impossible, but I love you." "Joe, do you mean that?" "I really do." "I really want to stay with you and I'm glad you love me. I love you, too. I guess I do -- I've never really loved another person, but I know what it's supposed to feel like and I feel that way." We hugged and kissed and we both started to cry. Monday, we didn't do anything. I didn't want to get into the wallpapering right away, although he saw all the paper, paint and tools on the back porch and said he wanted to help me when I wanted to start again. Midweek, taking a break from the papering, I called David Bentley, the attorney and told him what had happened. He said everybody knew everyone else in town or had at least knew of them. He said he knew John's mother by sight and where she lived. I told him I wanted to adopt John. He said it would be a wise move if he was to live with me and if the mother would give her consent. If I didn't, I couldn't enroll him in school; if he had to go to a hospital sometime, I couldn't get into his room, as I was not the next of kin. I told him to offer her money if she was resistive. Two days later David called back to report that he had seen Mary Mueller and she agreed but he didn't get down to money because she wanted $20,000." "How the hell would she know I even had that kind of money" "Joe I didn't even ask. I knew why. Remember I told you everyone knew everyone else in town. Well they also know everyone's business. I figured she'd obviously read the legal notices I had to put in the paper regarding your grandfathers' estate. Everyone knew he had money and was very frugal with it. Figure it out from there by yourself. You've got the money Joe, that stock you left with my secretary last week. I checked with a broker. It was purchased in 1930 during the depression and is now worth $80,000. Since you had to pay estate taxes, I suggest we get the name changed on the stock certificates and you just keep it for a while. So, what do you want to do? I'll come into town tomorrow; get a cashier's check made out in your name and you can give her one of your checks. I'd rather not get one in her name from the bank. I understand and that's an acceptable method to handle it. I'll have the necessary papers typed up and take them over to her tomorrow, with the money. By the way, and you don't have to respond, but the woman said the boy was quote "A fucking queer little bastard. You probably were, too, and anyone that would take him in had probably already been in his pants." I didn't respond, eventhough I somehow felt that David would have understood; Instead I asked another question. "David, you quoted that she used the word 'bastard' in describing John, is she really his mother, having the right to let me adopt him?" "I asked her that very question John. She went into the bedroom, brought back a bible and handed me John's birth certificate with her name as mother and some guy I'd never heard of as the father. Maybe they weren't married, or at least not to each other. So the answer is yes, she is legally his mother and has the right to let you adopt him. I'm going to include in the papers I'll prepare, text that says she is unable to properly provide for the boy as one reason for allowing the adoption." The following morning, John and I went to town and I went first to the bank and then the David's office. John waiting in the truck both times as neither of my business transactions took very long. I waxed back and forth all the way home wondering if should or should not tell John what had happened. Finally I decided it was the only thing to do. Then the awful thought hit me that maybe he didn't want to be adopted. So, on the driveway beside the front porch, I told him I had something to tell him, kind of ask him, maybe. So I blurted it out that David was arranging with his mother for me to adopt him, if he would like me to do so. He didn't say anything, just looked at me as though he couldn't believe what I'd said, grabbed me, kissed me and things progressed rapidly from there. We ripped off each other's shoes and clothing, threw them on the floor of the truck and literally attacked each other's body, especially the genitals. I looked at him with the same expression he had just looked at me. "Holy shit, you've shaved your pubes (he as yet didn't even have hair on his little balls). "I liked yours so much and I wanted mine to look like yours." "Let me look at them." I got out the driver's door; he spread out on the seat and lifted his legs, held them and spread them wide apart. Again, the sight of his genitals threw me into a fit of passion. His little ball sac was snuggled up against the bottom of his shaft and being shaved I could see what I always wondered about when I was a boy and first started playing with myself and called, for lack of a better name, a seam. The seam was raised a small amount and ran, in a perfect line from the extreme back and rear of his sack all the way around to where it connected, in front with his cock. It was evident even though he sack was covered with horizontal creases from having shriveled up to hug his dick. I told him what I was looking at and he giggled saying I sure seemed to like every small detail of him down there. "Yes and some of the details are not so small. You've got an impressive hard-on and I want to pull your foreskin back before you get so hard it'll move back of its own accord." "Do it and suck it. God, It's almost like we just got married and are on a honeymoon. Damn, I can't believe how hot you can make me." Once his beautiful, purple cockhead was fully exposed I was too hot to do anything other than what he had told me to do. The whole thing disappeared between my lips and there was no way that I could make it last. His body bucked up off the seat of the truck and his boy juice streamed into my mouth. One he was finished with his climax. He pushed himself off the seat, sat on the sill of the doorframe and took mine into his mouth. Luckily no cars passed on the rural road in front of the house before he brought me to a very intense climax. I was still standing, barefooted in the gravel, in the doorway of the truck, with John's arms wrapped around my legs and his head resting on my stomach and his right hand wrapped around my cock, when it happened. I saw a car coming down the road headed toward town and hollered at John get back in the car and I no sooner was in and slammed the door when, as seemed the custom here, the guy driving by honked and waved. John burst out into laughter. "Oh what an exciting ending. We about got caught with our pants down fooling around on our honeymoon. Were you worried, Joe?" "Just a little. We damn near blew my ever adopting you." "I don't want that to happen. What can I call you after the adoptions complete?" "Introducing each other to outsiders, I suppose you should refer to me as your guardian and I'll refer to you as my adopted son. Alone you can call me anything that would make you happy." Well, most of the time I'll probably just keep calling you Joe, but do you know what I want to call you when I want to go to bed with you, or have us just even start some sex play?" "I have no idea." "Would you mind it if I called you "My fuck daddy"? "Not if I can call you "My boy toy". "It's a deal and I want to tell you I'm so glad my fuck daddy has a big hard dick all the time. "And, I'm so glad my boy toy has a big, hard, bent down dick that keeps me so excited that I can't believe it. And, I'm so glad you shaved it. It's beautiful." John's cock was not the only beautiful thing. Our lives became beautiful, always filled with laughter, horsing around, kidding each other. Honestly, he made me feel like a teenager again. It was that way all day every day -- it didn't matter if we were painting or paperhanging, driving to town in the truck, watching TV or cooking supper. He told me everyday, it seemed, how happy he was, how much he loved me, how carefree he felt and I always told him that was exactly how I felt, too. One Saturday, Pete called and dropped by in the evening with Chris, the good looking of his two Holdrege friends from his last visit. When we got a few seconds to be together in the kitchen when he was getting another beer out of the fridge, he told me he had become very thick with Chris and they saw each other a lot; it was made easier because both his parent's and Chris' had stamped an OK on their friendship. He continued with how impressed he was with John, who seemed to be a totally different, happy, smiling guy that was fun to be around. I told him how much I appreciated his being a friend to John and how glad I was that he brought him back to me the night his mother gave him the boot. He told me he had told Chris about me and he wanted to know if we could all get into something together. "Pete, I'll always remember our times together. You're beautiful, hot, sexy and as they say "Good in bed", but it's a thing of the past. I've told you I'm adopting John. I love him so much -- even down to small things like lying with my head on his chest or his stomach and listening to his heartbeat or his stomach gurgling, digesting food. Pete I never knew you could love a another person so completely -- I feel responsible for him, I feel protective of him, I don't want to share him sexually and I'm sure I speak for him in that regard. Too, I think of him as a tender, young, living being that is my duty to care for, nurture, love and help grow." "Joe, you're some guy. God, I love you. I'm so glad for John. The kid was so withdrawn and quite. You've opened him up. It's more than obvious that he is in love with you, too. You make me jealous. I hope someday I meet a man who will feel the same way about me." I kissed him on the cheek and said, "I know you will -- like the first guy that sees you for what you are." "John walks in to get a couple of beers, kisses me right on the mouth, turned to Pete and said, I've got the greatest dad, even if he's too young to be my father." With that he walked back into the living room and Pete and I followed. The summer absolutely flew by. We finished the house except for the outside, which could wait until next year. One Saturday we went to Hastings and brought home a ton of new duds for John. I let him pick them out as I was sure he knew what he wanted, what were the dress fads at school. For the first time in his life he had 3 pairs of new shoes and some underwear. He was one happy kid, afraid that he'd spent too much of my money, but I assured him the next time he called me "Fuck Daddy" I'd extract payment in full. He loved going to the small supermarket with me. It came out the steaks I had cooked on the barbeque the first night he came out with Pete were the first ones he'd ever had, so we always bought a lot of different steaks, roasts, chicken breasts, French bread, pastries, you name it. One of the first things I did was go to a local merchant and have him bring out a large freezer to put on the enclosed back porch. We even took off for a week (I wasn't farming the property, no one was. That was something I had to address as I didn't want to be a farmer) for Denver, Vail, Breckenridge and some of the other known resorts in the Colorado Mountains. It was the equivalent of the 'honeymoon', that John had joked about. It was also a honeymoon in another respect -- we had more sex in that one week than I'd ever had in my whole life -- all of it so good that it just made us both crave more. The best sex we had, though, was the afternoon we got back home about 4PM and went straight to the bedroom. We had both become very attuned and sensitive about the other's sexual needs -- guess it was one of the many benefits of living together. John stood in the middle of the room, closed his eyes and I slowly and piece by piece undressed him, kissing every inch of his body as it was exposed. When he was naked, I guided him backward to lie crosswise on the bed, feet still on the floor, and I hurriedly ripped off my clothes. I always loved to see him naked in full daylight. I still do, and always will consider his naked body to be one of the supreme creations of the universe. It was magnificent in every respect, more so than in the beginning of our relationship because his bones were getting to have a little flesh around them. And his magnificence was made erotic by his beautiful, unusual, bent, boy penis with its unabashed hardness in my presence and the expectation that his penis conveyed in that state, standing up from his body then curving downward about 45 degrees and the huge, purple, cockhead which just seemed to cry out for a cocksucker to take care of it and reduce it back to its smaller, more comfortable state on a flaccid penis. I paused to worship his genitals and I guess I was taking too long because John cried out. "Daddy, take it, take it now. Please, take it now." I realized I had delayed too long when he started pissing a stream that shot out a foot from the edge of the bed air before gravity pulled it back down, some landing on my naked chest and some on the rug. As soon as the flow stopped I went down on his cock and sucked it as though I had never sucked it before. His body began to jerk on the bed, his penis began to jerk in my mouth and his sweet boy juice began to flow out his piss slit, the very orifice from which a few seconds ago he had involuntarily, or so I guessed, urinated. He immediately began to cry. I got off of my knees and covered his body with mine, caressing his cheeks with my hand, and rubbing them though his hair, which was growing longer every week. I reached down and found one of his hands and kissed it. "I'm so sorry I did that, Joe." "Why?" "It was embarrassing. But I know that you'd forgive me for anything and everything, wouldn't you." "That's right. You can do no wrong as far as I'm concerned. That's one small part of my loving you." When he finally calmed down, he said, "Do you want me to do yours now?" "No, I want to wait until we go to bed tonight and I'll feed it to you then. I just want you to get happy again for now." "Joe, I love you, I don't know how I could be any happier. I'm just embarrassed, that all." "I guess it's your penis that's embarrassed. I'll kiss it and make it feel better." In sufficient time to register John for school and get him a physical examinatione, the adoption was completed. I was John's legal guardian. It was a great moment and a happy day for both of us. We stopped at the supermarket on the way home and John ran into his high school principal and introduced me to him explaining "We've just come from the courthouse and John is now my legal guardian". It was obvious that the principal was overjoyed for John (I guess he knew some of his background.) He gave John a hug and congratulated both of us. His wife smiled but I kinda felt she could hardly wait to get home and plug the news into the local gossip pipeline. This was the first time that John just slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him, just as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. From then on it happened a lot when we were talking to people we met. I loved it eventhough I could imagine it raised a few eyebrows as an uncommon occurrence between a boy and a man in Beaver City but who gave a shit. The only important thing was that John and I enjoyed it. In fact, I enjoyed it a little too much and when we were going to town together, I took to wearing a jock strap. Every time the little shit pulled that trick he gave me an instant hard-on. At the end of John's first report card period, I got a call from the school secretary to set up an appointment between John's councilor and me. After his councilor and English Teacher, Mr. Broadley, told me how much better John was doing in school this year, he told me about a writing assignment in which he had instructed his students to write about their summer vacation. He slid a Xerox copy of John's essay in response across the desk for me to read. It read: My past summer was the best summer I have ever had. In fact, it is the only summer, or any other season, which I really remember. You see, I have a new stepfather, legal guardian, really, and I know he loves me. That is the first time I have ever had anybody love me and what a difference it makes to my life. For the first time, I was aware of flowers, birds, the wind in my face and the smell of rain -- all the little things that I'd never noticed before. I also experienced, for the first time, taking a sunbath, feeling the comfort of an air-conditioned truck on a long, hot journey. It was the first summer I had a vacation. Joe, my stepfather took me for a long vacation to the mountains in Colorado. I can't begin to tell you how good he is to me and how much I love him and how much he makes me realize that he loves me, too. Now I look forward to autumn, to being back in school, and even, for the first time, Thanksgiving and Christmas. John Mueller Slant wise, across the bottom was written: A+ Not as long as I had asked for but a well written story that came from the heart, which is always a captivating type of story. It conveyed well, both your emotions as well as those of your stepfather, Joe Farrin. I put my head on Mr. Broadley's desk and tears streamed from my eyes. He reached across the desk and took one of my hands in his and squeezed it tightly, but said not one word. Finally I said "I'm sorry", he handed me some Kleenex and said, "Mr. Farrin, I wept, too, when I read it. Tears of sorrow for what I had hints of last year that John was going through as well as tears of joy knowing that he was now in the care of someone who loved him and who's love he was returning in full measure." "I'm glad you copied his essay. Can you make me a copy." "Just keep that one. I have another one in my file. But I don't think you should show it to John." "I agree, but I'll pull it out if I feel in need of another good cry sometime." He laughed and replied, "I think your lives together are going to produce more laughter than tears. I'd like to thank you for what you've done for John, and I think you should know his mother never appeared for any of our requested meetings." "My attorney that arranged the adoption and John both tell me she was something else." "She really was. She must have been totally uncaring." I left smiling. I was so proud having John for my stepson. As I've told you repeatedly in this story, but hope you'll let me tell you once more, I really do love the kid. Hope you enjoyed reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it. THE END John Farrin, Beaver City, Nebraska (Its turned out to be a lot better place to live that I first imagined. Guess I shouldn't have bad mouthed it so much.)