Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2006 10:26:04 -0700 (PDT) From: rich bundner Subject: The Threshing Crew When I was a teenager, I had a chance encounter with two neighborhood boys that to this day ranks as the best sexual experience of my life. I was raised on a farm in Wisconsin, and as was the custom in those days before farmers owned their own combines, they would rent a threshing machine to harvest their grains. The neighbors would follow the machine from farm to farm so that each farmer had enough help to complete his harvest in a single day. Although always a day of hard work, it was also always a day of great anticipation. In addition to securing their harvest, the farmers also renewed their commitment to each other and the wives always came along and spent the day visiting while they prepared a veritable feast for the famished farmers once their chores were completed. These dinners were served in the outdoors as none of the farm houses was large enough to accommodate such a large crew of men. Large, makeshift, plank tables were set up and stools of every sort served as chairs. A cold beer was always set at each place setting to quench the thirst of the weary workers. As is the case in most such gatherings, people gathered in generational groupings so that I naturally found myself seated at the far end of the table with two of my young neighbors. Jack was the older of the two boys, tall and wiry with a well-defined body and about my age of 19 or so. He wore bib overalls over his shirtless body and I could smell his armpits every time he reached out for food. The other kid was a little younger, maybe 17 or 18, and his name was Bobby, a distant cousin of mine. He was about 5 foot 6 and had a hard, compact body that just could not be concealed under his formfitting jeans and snug T shirt. As the dinner wore on, some of the farmers left their seating and gathered in groups for conversation or smoking. Jack was the first to notice that some of the men had left their beers untouched so we scouted the table until we each came up with a beer. After drinking these, Bobby noticed that there were several bottles with partial contents still remaining, so we made a game out of draining the bottles into our empty bottles until we came up with another beer each. By then we were quite exhilarated and the conversation turned to fucking around with chicks and babes. Jack suddenly leaps up and says "gotta take a leak, man." Bobby says, "me, too," and as he jumps up, turns to me and says "come on, Rich." We head down around the barn and out of sight of the folks. Jack pulls out his schlong which is pale white and the longest prick I had ever seen to that point in my life. The thing that struck me most was the nozzle of foreskin that hung down at least an inch over the head. Bobby and I both pulled our dicks out and I noticed the similarity of our pricks, both with big heads covered by snug foreskins. Jack started pissing like a race horse, but failed to retract his foreskin, thereby spraying piss all over the place from the nozzle of his fluttering foreskin. Bobby and I had both started pissing, but when I felt Jack's piss hit my hand and even a sprinkle in my face. I sprung an involuntary boner which scared the shit out of me. I was about to flee the scene when I noticed that Bobby also had a hardon and was stroking his inflamed prick. "It's OK, Rich. You wanna fool around with us? We like to get off after a hard day's work." Without thinking a second thought, I said "sure, let's go into the granary." I felt safe there since there was a small window from which one could see if anyone was coming near. I had often jacked off here when I could find no other place with privacy. The shed itself was small, with barely enough room for the three of us to stand in a circle. Jack was the first to drop his overalls and his incredible nine-inch prick, now fully erect, jutted straight out from his pale, trim abdomen. His foreskin had hardly lost any length but clung snugly to the bulbous head at the end of his white prick pole. Bobby and I both dropped our jeans and admired our identical pricks, both leaking precum from our moist foreskins. In the small enclosure, the smell of our uncutness was overwhelming as the small room trapped the air around us. Our grainy sweat added to the gamey odors of uncut dick. "Go head, Jack, pull it back so we can get some more smell," Bobby said. Jack tugged at his lengthy foreskin, exposing part of his crimson prickhead which was coated with a whitish secretion. Bobby became extremely aroused by the sight and smell of Jack's prick, and a long, syrupy stand of precum dripped to the floor from his prickhead. "Heck that smells good," Bobby cried. By now we were all jacking our foreskins furiously, mixing our precum with our cheesy secretions. The smell of uncut dick was so intense that it seemed to release within us a primordial sex drive. The sound of our moist foreskins gave off a clicking sound as we jacked our slippery prickheads. We were all mesmerized by the sight, smell and sound of our activity and a silence fell among us. By now Jack's long, slippery foreskin had whipped up a frothy mixture of cheesy precum and Bobby could no longer resist its lure. He grabbed Jack's long prick and stripped the foreskin all the way back, exposing the huge, plum-shapped prickhead. After massaging the cheesy secretions over the head, he ran his fingers under the ridge, releasing even more of Jack's uncut smell. Suddenly, Jack grabbed my prick and stripped my foreskin back A fresh whiff of uncut smell hit the air and I was surprised at the intense odor I had built up from a hard day's work in the sun. As Jack massaged my prick, I no longer felt inhibited from joining in and I reached out for Bobby's throbbing prick. "Go ahead, skin that fucker," Jack instructed.. I took hold of Bobby's snug foreskin and stripped it back. His smell was as intense as mine and I noticed that he had an even greater buildup than Jack or I. We were all three rapidly approaching the point of no return. What surprised me next is that Bobby scooped up a handful of Jack's frothy secretions and held it to his nose. He started to moan as he cupped his hand over his face, inhaling all of Jack's fetid secretions.. This seemed to really set him off as his moaning rapidly increased as I frigged his engorged prick. I noticed too that Jack's prickhead had ballooned into a huge, near-purple plum. Without being able to control myself, I suddenly let out a loud cry as I blasted my cumload across Jack's pale torso. "Gonna jazz now!" Bobby cried out. Barely had my first blast landed when Bobby and Jack started exchanging blast for blast as their cumloads torpedoed at each other. My own prick continued involuntary contractions as my cumload washed across Jack's trim belly. We clung tightly to each other as our orgasms subsided. The chlorine-like fragrance of our youthful orgasms was so intense that I turned around to see if I had knocked over a bottle of Chlorex.. Then Bobby quickly disentangled himself and grabbed an old gunny sack which he used to wipe himself clean. "Gotta get goin'," he said, as he handed the gunny sack to Jack, pulled up his jeans and left the granary. Not wishing to end this remarkable experience, I sank to my knees to admire Jack's beautiful skin tube. Just as I was about ready to take it into my mouth, Jack pulled away and smirked "don't you go queer on me." He pulled up his overalls and left without another word. I lingered there for a long time, thinking of what had happened. I still have that gunny sack which brings me back to that moment with near total recall whenever I hold it in my hands. I left home soon after this incident and I never saw Jack or Bobby again. I heard though that Jack had married a neighborhood girl and raised a large family. Bobby had gone off to a Chicago and married but I knew little else about him. I guess I was the only one who turned out gay, but I am forever grateful to my young neighbors who shared their budding manhood with me.