Date: Sat, 11 Jun 2016 13:07:36 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101@yahoo.com Subject: Breaking the Dry Spell Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/118089887627/ This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in your jursdiction, please come back when you're of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy. ***** "Rain!" Joe bellowed in a deep, booming voice, thrusting his hands up at the half-cloudy sky theatrically. "Let there be rain, I command it!" I rolled my eyes, chuckled, kicked at the dry dirt under my boots. The grass was still holding up OK, but we could sure use a little help. The water issue was all over the news, nowhere more than here in the Central Valley, and I know we weren't the only ones getting worried about it. Ours was a big operation, and we were sitting on a tidy chunk of water rights, but that didn't do shit for us if the water was running out underneath us. When the clouds had started to roll in, we'd both watched, and as they thickened and darkened, we looked at each other, like maybe this could be it. We'd take whatever we could get, right now. But there was still a lot of blue in the sky, and no signs of anything coming off the clouds, so we went back to working on the fence, one eye on it, the other overhead. And then Joe finally dropped his hammer, strode out to the round patch of grass in the circle of the driveway, and started doing his thing. I had to admit, he looked damn impressive, all football-big, built up in the weight room back at school, just a pair of mesh shorts and his ratty old sneakers on. The beard was new on him, but it worked, made him look older than his age, closer to mine, even though I didn't have much more than stubble. The way those shorts clung to the big mounds of his ass made me swallow, avert my eyes. I was a big dude myself, and I had more than my fair share of admirers back in my college days, and still on the rare occasions I went into town. But Joe was the real eye-catcher. I wondered how he'd do, out here in the boonies, with so little tail to chase. Shit, he'd still have more to chase than me - there were a few of the workers who'd caught my eye out here, and the Hayes kid down at the feed store in town was turning into a damn fine-looking little stud. But mostly, it was me out here by myself, with my right hand. No life for a young man, but I didn't have a lot of options. "Doesn't sound like the gods are listening, bro," I chuckled, pulling my old ballcap off, wiping away the sweat. I could use a beer. I could use a slow jackoff session. I could use a lay, more than anything else. "Ah, fuck `em, then," he said, shrugging his big shoulders and ambling back. I guess he picked up on my vibe, because he hitched at the big lump in the front of his shorts. "Fuck bro... I'm bored as hell." "Welcome to the life, man," I said, dropping the tools back in the box, surveying our work. The fence looked good, but painting it could wait. That beer was sounding pretty good, right about now. "Yo... you remember how we used to kill time, days like these?" Joe said with a grin. He hadn't stopped tugging at his shorts, and there was a serious bulge developing there. I looked away. Lead me not into temptation, and all that... But what he was saying, shit yeah I remembered that. You know how it is, when you first discover what you can do with your cock - you want to do it all the damn time. Becomes your favorite hobby. I was a big, healthy, horny kid, and I loved to steal way and find places to jack off in the peace and quiet. Then one day when he was around 14, Joe followed me, all sneaky-like, and totally busted me with my jeans around my ankles, down in the little grove of trees that was one of my favorite places to go bust a nut by myself. I thought he was gonna rat me out, but he just got this big, surprised but excited grin - a lot like the one spreading over his face right now - and hauled his own good-sized teen dick out too, started whacking away on it before I could get my bearings. And that's how we got to be jack buds, two big, horny teen farm kids, brothers getting into getting off together. Shit, we hadn't done that in years. And here he was now, that big unmistakeable mound in his old black shorts thickening, lengthening, tenting, and I could feel my own starting to make its presence known in my jeans. I started to grin back. "Fuck it," I said. "Go grab us a couple beers, and let's chill, little brother." "Fuck yeah, dude!" he said excitedly, and ran into the house, those big muscles of his moving beautifully. Having such a big, studly jock brother had been a special kind of torment for me, but he wasn't shy, and he never seemed to mind me checking him out during those sessions. Sometimes, I thought he might even be showing himself off a little. He'd been justifiably proud of those muscles when they came on, and I'd catch his interested eyes roving over my own shirtless torso as we jacked away in the quiet coolness of the grove, comparing himself to me, seeing how big he'd get. "You, uh, wanna head down to the grove, for old time's sake?" I said with a half-embarrassed smile. "Hell, bro," he chuckled, looking around. Nobody for literally miles. He hauled out that big dick of his, hooking the waist of his shorts under his big nuts, and popped the cap on his beer. "Let's just fuckin' do it here, huh?" I laughed, clinked my bottle against his and undid my fly, fished out my cock. Saw him check it out, nod subtly, grin some more. And then we were doing it again, slowly handling ourselves, leaning back against the fence. No need to rush it, taking our time. Enjoying the vibe. Kid looked fucking amazing, all big-chested, thick-muscled, handling a big, shiny, thick piece of jock dick. "Looks like farm life agrees with you, bro," he said, eyeing me up and down, the muscles of my stomach showing under my pushed-up t-shirt, the big bunch of my biceps as I worked my own big dick. "Yeah, one day, you can look this good too, brother," I chuckled. "No more working out in some fancy weight room. Just farm work, and plenty of it." He laughed, rolled his eyes, then punched my arm. The touch of his hand, however brief, on the mass of my bicep sent a little shiver through me, and I grunted involuntarily. He gave me an interested look, then reached out and playfully punched my big pec. I grunted again. His grin widened. I jacked a little harder, and he nodded to himself. "Fuck yeah, Johnny, get into it, brother," he said, all low and husky. "Work that big dick, fucker." Man, we used to talk back and forth a little, back when we used to do this, but something about it now, both of us men, big and fit, healthy, stroking our brother cocks out in the open, the way he kept bumping his fist against me, my shoulder, my bicep, my pec - this was something else. Then he reached over and plucked at the bunched-up material of my old T-shirt. "Why don't you lose the shirt, bro," he said. "Get comfy, like me." "Why don't you lose those shorts, kid," I said before I knew I was doing it, and he gave me a curious grin, then winked, and shimmied out of them, letting them slide down his thick-muscled thighs. I stared at him, surprised, then yanked my shirt up and off as he nodded approvingly. "Yeah man," he muttered, nearly naked. "Jeans too, fucker. C'mon." I looked at him, and he seemed perfectly serious, so I skinned them down to my boots, my underwear tucked under my big balls like his. I stared at him, and he stared right back. We watched each other, real close, the big bunches of muscle moving, flexing as we jacked, and then he started lightly punching my pecs again, the crunch of my abs. I started to do the same, and he grunted, turned a little more to me. Flexed up some more for me, and we kept up like that, stroking faster and harder, copping feels of each other's big young muscles, and then before I knew it, we were stepping close, into the heat of each other's near-naked bodies, and I was grabbing hold of the back of his thick neck and pulling him in to kiss him. Dunno what came over me, I just went with it, and after a second, a deep, surprised grunt, he did too. Kissed me back, kissed me well, lips and tongue moving with mine, moving together. His hand slipped around to grab hold of the big flex of my glute, pulling me in with a grunt from me, and I reached round him too, both hands grabbing hold of his big-muscled footballer's ass as our cocks ground between each other's big abs, tongues dancing thick and wet, body to body, brother to brother. It had been a little while for me, and the need welled up inside of me, a slow heat radiating through my loins, my belly, my thighs, his big, capable hands kneading my ass just spurring it on even further. "God damn it, bro," I panted when our tongues separated, both panting for breath, a lusty, surprised look in his eyes, but a big grin splitting his handsome face. "I dunno if you want to, but shit..." "You wanna get fucked, dontcha, big bro," he murmured with a knowing smile, and I blushed hard, embarrassed at my need, embarrassed to ask him to scratch that itch, but yeah. I did. Missed the feeling of a big dick filling me up inside like that. A big dick like his. A man like him thrusting hard and deep inside of me, his lips pressing to my neck, whispering sweet-hot, dirty words lustily into my ear. I bet Joey knew how to do all that. All I could do was nod, looking away from him, ashamed, but he just clutched me tighter, tilted my chin up, grinned at me, and nodded slowly. We had nothing more than spit, but plenty of that, at least. He sure seemed to know what he was doing as I leaned against the fence, grabbing hold of the top rail, white-knuckling it as he introduced that big college-boy cock of his to my ass. I wondered if he'd ever fucked ass before, but that was a question for later. We had more pressing needs right then, and when I finally loosened up enough, he pressed up against me, and into me, and those lips found my neck like a lover's does, and it was even more perfect than I'd imagined it. We weren't quiet, once we got up to speed, found the rhythm. Moaning and grunting and cursing, the slap of his hips against mine echoing through the yard, across the fields, his sweat starting to rain down the broad hot expanse of my bare back, on the big muscles of my ass as he split it, the back of my head, my forearms, and that's when I realized that it wasn't his sweat, or at least not all of it. I turned my sweaty face up to the sky, squinting, and those clouds had rolled in stronger, thicker, greyer than before. "Unh... fuck..." I grunted as he plowed up into me. "Gonna fuckin' rain, bro." "Fuckin' right, big brother," he chuckled and panted. "Gonna make it fuckin' rain, better believe it." I laughed a hard bark, reached back to slap his sweaty hip. "No, asshole," I said, feeling those drops from overhead, slow and fat, a sudden coolness, a moistness in the warm air around us. That particular kind of scent in the air, when you know rain is coming. "Really gonna rain. Look up." "Oh shit," he laughed, never slowing his pace - if anything, speeding up, the big, blunt, bare head of that jock cock battering my prostate repeatedly as he clutched my hips tighter. That slow burn was spreading through me, and when I reached down between the fence rails for my angry, jerking cock, found it dripping with slick juices, I knew the moment was here. The drought was about to break. Mine, and the farm's. I could tell from his faster pace, the huff of his hot breath on my neck, the tighter way his fingers dug into my sweaty hips, he was with me. I groped the length of my dick, stroked it, felt my balls tightening, and began to moan. And then I tripped my trigger, yelling as I began to fire off, thick, hot spurts streaking through the air, onto the grass, raindrops falling faster now, thick and fat like my seed spurting onto the yard, my stretched ring tightening rhythmically round Joe's big young dick. "Dude, fuck, comingggggg," he wailed, and with a hard thrust, two, three, he shuddered all over and fired off. I wished I had nerve endings deep up inside me to feel it, but I could just about imagine I felt him anyway, filling me up with his hot seed, sowing it like a good farmer does. By the time he was quaking and shivering and twitching his last, lips pressing to my neck again, the sparse drops from overhead were coming faster now, fat and cool on our hot, sweaty skin, becoming a legitimate downpour as it picked up. "Bro... dude... I did it... I fucking did it!" he laughed, and I laughed with him as he slid out of me and began to dance naked around the driveway, his still-hard cock bouncing up and down with him, slapping against the hard, thick muscles of his stomach. I leaned back against the fence, steadying my breath, letting the water cool my skin as I tilted my head back, washing over me with increasing force. Our discarded clothes were getting wet, not that it mattered now, and I found myself joining him in a naked rain dance, chugging the half-forgotten beers we'd set down when we started up. "Dude... long way to go before the water table comes back up," I chuckled as we hugged tight and enjoyed the sensation of the rain and our big young bodies pressing together. "Well then... guess we need to keep up the ritual, huh bro?" he grinned, winking at me, then pulled me in for another deep, probing kiss. I felt his cock twitch against mine, and hell - couldn't hurt to try, could it?