Mountain Boy
Copyright ã 2002
By Lee Mariner

* * * * * * * * *

If there is a flat spot in Harlan County, it is unknown to most of the folks that live there. The County is that part of Southeast Kentucky that is smack in the middle of the mountains. Hazard is the county seat, and the economic center. 

Most of the people that call Hazard home are dirt-poor scrub farmers; brew moonshine or work for the Blue Diamond Mining Company. My grandfather, Owen Baxter, owned a small farm that he had inherited from his father, but scratching a living from the rocky earth was backbreaking, and my great-grandfather and grandfather went into the mines as many before them had, as would others who would follow.

Over the years the mines had devoured many of the young and old men of Hazard. I guess if my father had not held two jobs, working the farm, and for the state highway department, Donald and I might have been devoured as well, as had others of our generation.

Donald, was my older brother, our father's alter ego.  We lived on the farm that had been passed down from our great-grandfather.  I lived in Donald's shadow all of my younger years, until I reached the legal age when I could enlist in the Army and leave the farm and the mountains without permission.

* * * * * * * * * *

I spent a satisfying career in the Army, traveled the world, and survived the Korean and Viet Nam conflicts. I guess it was the Viet Nam debacle that really brought back memories of the mountains. Crawling through the rice paddies fertilized with animal and human excrement wasn't exactly fun; and the Cong knew that if they were patient some poor 'hardly-out-of-training-camp kid' would stand up and they had a perfect kill shot. It was times like those that really made me yearn for the cool mountains of home. Hell, I would have settled for any mountains after seeing all of those young healthy fresh-out-of-high school kids being blown away. It was heart breaking; and it wasn't because I was gay and they were young and lusty, with hard muscled bodies and thick meat. Just the thought of the families that would never see them alive again - and that was the most disturbing thing about their deaths. The country called, young men responded and many died. Those that survived learned a healthier respect for life.

I learned one thing in Nam; being straight or gay made no difference, losing a buddy was a bastard, and you tired to avoid forming any attachments. Christ, mot gay dudes seemed to be in a perpetual state of heat, and they weren't always that careful about how they propositioned another guy, especially young replacements.

My main concern was doing my tour and transferring back home where I could retire, and forget the rice paddies, cutting edge bamboo, booby traps and the young men that dropped alongside of you from the shot of some sneaky, unseen sniper hidden in the thick foliage.

I would often dream of the mountains when there was a moment of peace, and my heart ached to be walking in them again - breathing in the cool clean air. Sometimes I would dream of the time I caught my brother, Donald, beating off in the family's outhouse. I'd wake up with my cock steel hard, oozing pre-cum, and I would be wishing we were jerking off together rather than sitting in a stinking foxhole with some dude who was probably as horny as I was, but more than likely thinking about his girl friend or about his wife - or maybe both.

Donald got all pissed when I caught him, but I later thought he liked me watching because he left hints about when he was going to be working in the barn or by the corncrib. Sure enough, I'd see him and beat my meat while I watched him. I was sure he knew that I was watching but he never said anything, and I acted like everything was normal.

In school, some of my buddies and I jerked off together, either in the locker room showers or under the fire escape steps. I learned from watching them that there was something different in the excitement that I felt. They would kid each other about the difference in the size of their cocks or some girl that they were sure would be an easy piece of pussy. I wanted to know what it felt like to hold someone else's cock, stroke it, and feel if it throbbed like mine did. I knew from the almost overpowering feelings in my groin and the desire that would wash over me as I watched them stroking their cocks, I liked boys and not girls.

* * * * * * * * * *

The worst case of the hornies I had was when my outfit was outside of DaNang, Viet Nam. My old foxhole buddy Harold Kellum had finished his tour and was being rotated home. We had been together for almost eighteen months and it felt good when under fire to be with someone that you instinctively knew was watching your back. It meant a lot not to have that worry, and it meant almost as much having someone to take care of the inevitable urges that needed to be relieved. Urges that only another man could understand. Whenever, Harold saw me getting fidgety or barking at some poor soldier over nothing, he would slide his hand up my thigh and start fondling my cock and balls. 

A inexperienced nineteen year old right out of boot camp was assigned as Harold's replacement. I bitched at my Commanding Officer about it, telling him a Platoon Sergeant 1st Class rated more than a fuzzy-cheeked greenhorn private but it didn't do any good as replacement manpower was in short supply.

The kids name was Orville Fisher, and he came from Tucson, Arizona. He had brown hair and eyes and even in rumpled combat clothes and flack jacket,
it was easy to see he was well built. He was tall and sort of lanky with smoldering eyes that seemed to look into the depths of your soul. It made me nervous to think that he might be able to tell what I was thinking. It was bad enough having a good-looking hunky teenager as a foxhole buddy without wondering if he knew what I was feeling.  I learned later that we both were thinking the same thing.

Not long after we hooked up, our platoon was assigned to perimeter guard duty. While I was checking the other men of my squad, and refurbishing our ammo supplies, he dug our foxhole. Orville had dug the hole deep enough but a little small for two men our size. More than once a knee would be shoved up in my crotch when we maneuvered for space. Once he did it and he let his knee stay in my crotch; putting pressure on my nuts, and of course my cock started to harden.  I tried moving but he kept the pressure on and when I started to say something, I stopped when I looked at him and saw he was groping his crotch and not trying to hide the outline of a very thick hard cock.

"Damn Sarge, I'm horny as hell," he moaned, squeezing and rubbing the very large bulge snaking down the inside of his left thigh. "I ain't had a piece of ass since I left the States," he groaned, looking around furtively on the chance he was overheard.

"Dammit, Orville, do you think your the only jar head in this hellhole that gets horny?" I growled. "The only ass your likely to get out here is your fist; but there is not much you can do about it in a foxhole so bite the bullet and keep your head down."

"I'd sure like someone to bite my bullet, I need to get off bad," he replied, clutching and squeezing the bulge in his crotch as if he was in pain.

"Then turn around and jerk off if it's that bad but don't make any noise," I hissed, the heat in my groin increasing as my steel hard cock throbbed.

"Hey, you wanna jerk off with me, Sarge?" He whispered, looking at me with lust filled eyes. "I can feel that hard cock of yours pushing against my leg."

"You're the one doing the pushing, Orville, not me," I replied. "Take care of business if you're that bad off but, I don't want your fucking cum messing up the foxhole."

"It won't be, Sarge," he replied in a passionate filled quivering voice. "There's no mess if we suck each other off."

"Wha...what!" I exclaimed softly, not believing that I had heard him correctly. "Are you fucking crazy?"

"Hey, man, I didn't hear you protesting when you were watching me groping my cock and I told you how horny I was," he whispered, deliberately stroking the huge bulge stretching down the inside of his leg.  "You're just as horny as me, and I bet you want sex as bad as I do," he said in a gruff sexy voice.

He was right, my cock was hard enough to crack granite, but, I was still a little leery.   When I glanced at him, he looked at me penetratingly with his dark brown eyes, and grinning impishly, he grabbed my wrist placing my hand on his hard cock.  I felt the head, and the pulsing beat of his rapidly racing heart radiating through the thick fabric of his fatigues.  When he grabbed my cock and squeezed, his lust filled eyes glistened with desire, and my resistance melted away.

Brushing his hand away, I moved enough to give him more room, and I growled, "Get on your ass and lean back."

At first, he looked at me quizzically, until he was me maneuvering to squat in front of him, and then lean forward, falling on my knees and straddling him the throbbing bulge in my crotch only inches from his face.  Orville was like a wild man when he understood what I wanted, and his fingers shook fumbling in his excitement to unzip the fly of my fatigues.  My legs quivered slightly when his probing fingers exposed a few inches of my oozing cock, and I gasped audibly at the feeling of his tongue licking he pre-cum oozing from the ethereal aperture in its blood-engorged head.  Unbuckling my belt, I sucked my gut in, and unbuttoned the top button of my pants, letting them fall. The remaining length of my burgeoning cock thrust through the fly in my briefs like a cannon thrusting its muzzle through its portal, ready to release its hot load.

Orville audibly sucked air into his lungs when he saw my pre-cum dripping cock.  Roughly jerking my briefs down, my cock slapped upward against my stomach as it was freed for all restraint, and Orville had free access to my sperm laden balls.  My asshole twitched and tightened when I felt his hot breath waft over my turgid cock, and I clamped my teeth shut, suppressing an intense desire to groan when he greedily sucking about half of my thick, uncut eight-inch cock into his mouth.  Waves of erotic ecstasy swept over me as he sucked with the intense urgency of a calf suckling at its mother's teat, trying to extract the milk from her udder.  The animal urge to force the remainder of my cock down his throat was overpowering, but I resisted, moaning softly while I enjoyed the exquisite feeling of his tongue washing over the sensitive glans on the underside of my cock's blood-engorged crown.

"Oh, yeah, that's it baby, suck it, drain my nuts dry," I moaned softly, my hips instinctively reacting, moving in a slow piston motion in sync with the sucking of his mouth.

Orville ran one hand up the back of my tense thigh as his other hand stretched and kneaded my tightening balls.  He didn't alter the pressure of his lips or the steady sucking movement of his mouth over the length of my cock as the piston pressure of my hips drove my cock deeper until it bent slightly trying to penetrate the pharynx that led to the cocoon softness of his esophagus.

As if he was possessed by the excitement of indulging in the sex he so fervently desired, he continued sucking, oblivious to anything else.  With each thrust of my hips, he would moan softly, one hand roaming over my hard muscled abdomen, the fingers scratching and playing in the thick silky hair surrounding the base of my throbbing cock, while his free hand gently kneaded and stretched my tightening balls.

When I felt the intense feeling of my load starting to rise, and my swelling cock hardening, I glanced down and whispered, "Orville it's ready to blow boy; your going to get a hot load in your gut if you don't pull off."  The warning seemed to increase the excitement, and clamping his lips tighter, he sucked harder.  The jungles of Viet Nam vanished, swallowed up by the euphoric fog as my cock exploded, gushing thick streams of hot nut cream into his mouth and down his gulping throat.  My arms over the edge of the foxhole prevented me from collapsing as he greedily swallowed the flowing nectar of my nuts, the aphrodisiac he had so urgently desired satisfying his immediate needs.

The intense waves of ecstasy that had engulfed me slowly subsided, and I languished in the soft afterglow of satisfaction as his lips worked my slowly wilting cock, draining the last of the thick nut cream dribbling into his mouth.

"Man," Orville said softly, exhaling his breath in a muted whoosh. "You needed a blow job bad, didn't you Sarge - for a minute I didn't think your nuts were ever going to empty."

"You just drank a heavy load from my nuts, Orville, what does that tell you?" I replied.

Kissing my semi-flaccid cock tenderly, he first tucked my balls and then the slowly wilting length of my cock inside of my briefs. As, I moved my leg's, he closed my zipper, and knelt beside me sliding his tongue seductively over the interior of his lips, his soft brown eyes twinkling as he said, "It tells me that you've been waiting for a cock-sucker like me to share your foxhole so I could drain your nuts, and I loved every fucking drop."

He was more right than he knew, I thought to myself, thinking back to the many times that Harold and I had accommodated each other in similar foxhole's in the dank depths of the jungles before his tour was over, and he returned to the States.

* * * * * * * * * *

I was still aglow from the exquisite experience of Orville's hot mouth engulfing my cock, draining my nuts.  When our shoulders touched as we knelt in our foxhole, I glanced around the area before slipping my arm around his small waist.  Looking into my eyes, he smiled as he leaned back slightly against my arm. I watched, my breath shortening in anticipation as he slowly, teasingly unzipped his fly.  There was a lecherous gleam in his eyes as he slowly, deliberately extracted a very respectable, very hard uncut cock.

Dusk was developing, and everything was quiet outside of the foxhole.  Orville moved his hips back slightly and his breathing increased noticeably as I wrapped my fingers around the exquisite length of his throbbing cock. Orville gasped quietly as I squeezed his cock, and he moaned softly, almost painfully, "Oh yeah, Sarge, suck it man, drain the cream from my nuts."  A wave of blind, almost obscene lust swept over me as I assumed the position Orville had just vacated.  I could smell the musky sweaty odor of his crotch, and when my lips engulfed the semen oozing head of his blood-engorged cock h thrust his hips forward driving his cock into my mouth, groaning, "Ohhhh shit man take it all."

Grabbing my head with both hands, he roughly, feverishly drove his cock into my mouth, moaning sexual obscenities with each thrust of his hips. I was trying to dig his balls out of the confines of his fatigues while taking as much of his burgeoning cock as I could when I heard a low moaning growl of sexual agony as gallons of hot rich teen cream filled my mouth flowing down my throat.  He held my head in a vice like grip, moaning child like as I swallowed the nectar of his nuts. 

The rigidity of his cock wilted slowly, the intensity of each spasm decreasing as the aphrodisiac that I had craved diminished.  My head was resting back against the side of the foxhole, and Orville was supporting his weight by hanging onto the rim of the foxhole, as I had, his hips sagging forward as his softening but impressive cock wept driblets of semen.  Our moment of sexual fulfillment was rudely interrupted by the sound of heavy machine gun fire, and the exploding of hand grenades. 

Without hesitation, we zipped our fatigues up, listening to our radio crackling with an asinine warning that we were under a full scale offensive.  The Viet Cong was laying down a heavy machine gun fire, and that usually meant they would be coming in droves shouting "Yankee Go Home" or whatever slogan that expressed their hatred for us.

We did a fall back from our forward positions to a position closer to the city of DaNang. The 'full scale offensive' was more like a nerve-wracking incursion that the Cong was good at. They would make a lot of noise do a lot of damage, and then retreat back into the thickness of the surrounding jungle leaving the free-fire zone littered wit the bodies of their black pajama clad dead.  The real difference was the continuity of the attacks. There was only a let up of a few hours, or a day before they would come again.  We barely had time to re-supply and eat before the attacks renewed. 

Orville proved to be a damn good foxhole mate as well as a hell of a cocksucker.  Unfortunately, the Cong was not interested in our sexual relationship, and we didn't have the time for short or prolonged sessions to improve on that relationship.  Two days before we were to be relieved, Orville was hit by a hidden sniper.  We got the son-or-a-bitch before he was able to kill any other man, but that didn't make me feel any better.  Orville was a nineteen year old teenager who was away from his home in Tucson, Arizona for the first time.  His life had hardly began, he would never experience the love of another man or see another sunrise; but Viet Nam was a hell of a place to end it for no other reason than a few crazy politicians playing "God".

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter #2

My tour in Viet Nam was almost up, and I didn't screw around any more after Orville was killed.  It was a struggle when thoughts of his hot mouth and technique ran through my mind. For a nineteen-year old teenager, he sucked my cock better than many of others that had swung on my shaft, including Harold. Trying to stay celibate was difficult, and it wasn't easy to avoid getting excited when a young, good-looking kid was assigned to my squad, especially when one of them closely resembled, Orville. It was a struggle but, with the help of Molly-Palm-and-Her-Five-Sisters, and the end of my units tour coming up, I survived.  I had seen more than one guy who was close to going home get careless for who knows what reason lose their edge, and I wasn't looking to end my career or time on this earth in filthy rice paddies or deep in the jungles of a country that didn't mean a hill of beans to me.

It was a few days after my unit was sent to the rear for R&R that my self-induced celibacy was shattered. Being the platoon Sergeant, I rated a private room rather than being in one of the six man squad bays. I had just returned from swimming, and was drying off after taking a shower to remove the salt when, Holcombe the company clerk came bursting through the door hollering, "Sergeant Bax...Baxterrrr," he stammered, his grip on the door knob spinning him around when he saw me standing naked in the bathroom doorway, towel in one hand, the other hand fluffing my balls from between my legs, my half-hard cock bouncing with the force of a springboard, it's diver having just sprang into the air.

"What?" I barked, irritated at being broken in on although under certain circumstances he would have been more than welcome.

Holcombe was a good-looking, college type, young man probably in his early twenties.  In the field he wore dirty fatigues as we all did, and camouflage fatigues, unfortunately, weren't designed to meet the high fashion standards of Maximillian. They weren't tailored to show off the male body.  They were designed to aid a man in staying alive under combat conditions. Damn few men that I had ever saw could fill them out the way Orville had.  Holcombe, I had seen occasionally when I was called to the Company HQ. He was not as dirty as the men of my squad but, his fatigues didn't fit him any better. His Class "A" uniform was not professionally designed but, it did not hide his physique the way his fatigues had.  His piss-cutter cap was perched on auburn hair, his eyes were hazel and without the camouflage paint, his features were clean-cut. His tight fitting Eisenhower jacket revealed wide shoulders, a small waist, a well-rounded butt, and an eye catching bulge in the crotch.

"I...I,,the...the," he continued to stammer, his face reddening with embarrassment, his knuckles white from the death grip he had on the door knob.

"Damn, Holcombe, shut the frigging door or do you want me to catch pneumonia?" I barked again but, noticing the sudden swelling in his crotch, not as sharply. "Don't tell me you haven't seen a naked man before," I said in a more conversational, joking tone.

"Yeah," he replied as he turned around from closing door. "When I came in and saw you standing in the bathroom doorway like you were, it surprised me."

"You mean it surprised you when you saw me fluffing my balls and my cock half-hard," I said chuckling softly. "Don't get excited when your taking a shower, and your cock starts to get hard when you wash it or that your balls don't need to be readjusted in your crotch when you dry off," I said as, I tightened the towel around my waist, the still semi-flaccid condition of my cock visibly noticeable.

"Yea...yeah, I guess all men do," he said hesitatingly, the redness in his face subsiding although his eyes were focused on my crotch. "But, like I said, I wasn't expecting to see you that way, and it was embarrassing."

Moving a little to the center of the room, only a few feet from where Holcombe was standing, I glanced down at the impressive bulge in his crotch, and then, I looked into his eyes.  He unflinchingly returned my gaze but, his breathing had increased noticeably, and the clinching and relaxing of his fingers belied his nervousness. "Damn, Marty, you're getting to be a bold bastard," I thought to myself grinning impishly before asking in a soft salacious tone, "Do you always get excited when you are surprised or embarrassed, Holcombe?"

I saw the muscles of his clean shaven square jaw tighten, and then relax, his lips parting slightly. The pink tip of his tongue moved teasingly over his lower lip, and then breathing in deeply, he glanced down between us as he whispered, "Only when I see a naked, hot stud like you," he replied, his breath exploding forcefully as he ripped the towel from around my waist.

Lifting my arms onto his shoulders, he slipped his arms around my waist as he moved closer. There were flecks of gold flashing in the depths of his lust filled hazel eyes; and, I felt the muscles of his biceps flex as he pulled us tightly together the hint of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Clasping his hands tightly behind my back our eyes locked briefly before his soft succulent lips met mine in a bone crushing kiss. Our mouths opened automatically as if our probing tongues were scouring our souls for the secrets of our existence.

His tongue darted with the speed of a rapier searching and probing, and I felt his hard body trembling with passion as he ground his still hidden cock against mine.  Pulling his lips from mine, he kissed my face murmuring, "Oh, Jesus, I've wanted you bad."

"Get out of that uniform, and we can make up for lost time," I growled, inhaling deeply, and breaking his grip around my chest.

* * * * * * * * * *

Holcombe's hands trembled with excitement as he stripped. I rolled onto my bunk, and watched with heated anticipation. My throbbing cock lay on my flat stomach a steady stream of pre-cum flowing from the flared aperture in it's blood-engorged crown. Visions of Orville flashed before my eyes, as Holcombe's hard muscled body quickly came into view.  His thick uncut cock was almost the twin of Orville's but, not quite. It bounced vigorously slapping his hard flat stomach as it sprang free of the elastic waistband of his briefs.

I felt the pent up desire within me rising as Holcombe stood at the side of the bunk for a moment looking down at me the golden flecks in his lust filled hazel eyes flashing. His smooth beautifully sculpted chest heaved as he inhaled, expanding the thick breast muscles with their twin dark nipples surrounded by coffee colored aureoles jutting out like headlights, his magnificent cock swinging freely, and I said gruffly, "You sure are a sexy bastard, Holcombe."

"So are you," he answered, his voice quivering with passion.

As he got into bed, I opened my arms, and he lowered his gorgeous body on top of me.  I put my arms around his chest, and spreading my legs, his fell between them and our throbbing cocks lay side by side, his heavy ball sac covering mine.

Slipping his hands under my shoulder blades, he propped himself up on his elbows, and his eyes bored into mine as his hips began a slow rotating motion. I felt the heat of desire building, and my hips automatically began moving in concert with his. A soft smile played at the corners of his soft succulent lips as he lowed his head and brushed them across mine.

"You like teasing a guy, don't you?"

"No," he answered softly gently stroking my cheek with one finger.  "This is where I've wanted to be for months, and I want to enjoy every minute of it."

Pulling his head down to mine and thinking of the pleasure that Orville and I had experienced in such a short time, I whispered, "So do, I.'

Our tongues clashed in another battle of the Titans.  The muscles of his shoulders and back rippled under my fingers as I moved my hands over his velvety soft flesh. The rotating of his hips became a thrusting, piston motion; and,  I felt the erotic heat generated from the friction of our cocks sliding through the thick silky hair surrounding them. We both were panting, and sweating profusely from the heat of passion when he stopped. It felt as if a thick surreal fog had settled over us; and, I could see the animal needs of his passion in the intensity of his eyes as he looked down at me.   Moving slowly, Holcombe kissed the erect nipples on my chest, and my cock jerked when he bit first one and then the other. Lip kissing, and tonguing my body he moved in an erratic pattern until he reached my sensitive inny naval. His tongue felt like a hot poker, and I writhed in ecstatic agony as his tongue probed the sensitive umbilical scar.  It was only a preamble to the pleasure of his mouth engulfing the drooling length of my throbbing cock. 
Gasping, I buried my face in the pillow moaning softly as his tongue washed the sensitive glans at the base of the crown, and waves of intense, ecstatic pleasure swept over me increasing the hot boiling sensation in my balls.  Groaning, I growled, "Take it easy or I'm going to blow, and your going to get one hell of a load."

Holcombe didn't release my cock as, using an athletic wrestlers maneuver, he reversed his position, and stretched out beside me.  Laying with his arms on either side of my hips, and his chest on my abdomen, he held my throbbing cock tightly between his lips as he supported his body on his elbows, and slid his hands under my thighs.  Squeezing the hamstring muscles of each leg, he moved his hands back until his fingers were gripping the hard flesh of my buttocks. Lowering his head, my cock slipped into his mouth until the head touched the pharynx that led to the soft cocoon of his esophagus. He hesitated for a moment, swallowing as his throat opened, and a thrill of erotic pleasure engulfed my body as my cock slid into the depths of his throat. He rested for a moment as his throat adjusted to the thickness and length of my cock. We both were breathing heavily as he worked the muscles of his throat around my cock, and glancing to the side, I could see his dripping cock under his hips pressing into the mattress. Sliding one arm under his legs, I turned slightly to move toward or pull him to me. Anticipating what I was trying to do, Holcombe twisted in sync with me.  He placed one hand over the crack that divided my buttocks, and pulling he rolled my body toward him as he moved his free arm under my thighs. I duplicated his moves shivering when he groaned as we stretched out beside each other.

Opening my mouth, I eagerly guided his drooling cock into my mouth.  Holcombe anxiously assisted by moving his hips toward my face, and he moaned as his cock penetrated the depths of my throat. The intensity of his sucking increased with the movement of his hips driving his cock in and out of my mouth, and my hips automatically matched his powerful, passionate thrusts.  I felt his cock swelling and hardening in conjunction with mine, and the animal need to copulate replaced any thoughts of a prolonged sexual experience. Tightening muscles, and muted tones of mutual ecstasy signaled the eminent explosion that preceded the volcanic force that would provide the aphrodisiac that we both craved; and the power of our driving hips increased.  We both shuddered, our nuts tightening as the semen rushed through burgeoning cocks to empty into gulping throats.  Stream after stream of thick man cream gushed into waiting gullets emptying tight nut sacs of the sweet nectar of life. 

Our muscles relaxed as the excitement that had gripped us subsided, and our cocks wilted as the flow of semen decreased to a driblet. Lips kneaded softening cocks in an effort to drain the last drops. There was a joint sigh of relief and please as our lips released spent cocks, and Holcombe reversed his position.  Laying his head on my deltoid muscles, we both rested in the golden warmth of the afterglow that always followed the pleasure of man sex. 

My mind was filled with thoughts of Orville, Harold, my brother and others that, I had known when, Holcombe spoke softly, "Sarge, that was awesome," he whispered.  I've had sex with other guys but...but, with them three was no feeling, it was more like just needing to get my nuts off. With you though, I wanted you feel as good as me, I wanted you to know how much I've wanted to be with you." He said, breathing rapidly.  "Does that make sense?"

"Sure," I said groping in my mind for a more complete answer. "I've had the slam-bang-thank-you sex, and your right, there is little or no feeling except popping your nuts. Just now with you, it sort of started out to be quick sex but, after we got into it, I wanted you about as much as you said you wanted me, and maybe we can do it again."

"I wish we could," he said as he lifted up and pressed his lips to mine in a long passionate kiss that could have led to a more prolonged session of love making until his words suddenly sank in, and I broke off the kiss.

"Holcombe, what do you mean by 'I wish we could?'

He sat up, and pulling his legs up, he supported himself with one arm as he moved his fingers over my chest in teasing, sensuous strokes.  Inhaling deeply, he looked at me, his eyes soft as he exhaled. "The Colonel wants to see you in Regimental HQ."

"The Colonel," I said, my mind racing a mile a minute as I tried to think of why he would want me. "How long ago did he send you?"

"Not very long, Sarge, maybe a half hour or so.  He told me to see if you were in your quarters, and it you weren't to find you."

"You did find me," I replied. "You just didn't have to run around to do it, and if you keep on playing with my nipples it might take you a little longer."

"Do you think it might," he grinned, his eyes twinkling as he gripped my hardening cock.

"Yeah," I sighed.  "It might have but, we can't keep the Colonel waiting or he will send out a search party to look for both of us."

There was a hint of reluctance in Holcombe's body language as he released my cock, and stood beside the bed. His impressive cocked waved gently as he offered me a hand in getting out of my bunk. Moving his hands up my arms, he moved closer and looking into my eyes, he put his arms around me whispering, "At another place, and at another time, I could fall for you." My arms reacted automatically as his went around me.  Our lips parted, and our tongues danced gently. Hard muscles tightened at the feeling of hard cocks pressed tightly against hard muscled abdomens, and we shuddered as a wave of desire swept over us.

We separated without saying anything, and Holcombe moved to where he had placed his uniform over the back of a chair.  My uniform was on hangers.  While we were dressing, I noticed Holcombe nervously glancing in my direction, but I chalked it up to post-sex syndrome, the period when one or both partners are reluctant to admit there might not be another time but, hoping there would be.  We all have had that experience at one time or the other when one tells the other that they will meet at such and such a place at such and such a time but, one or both don't show up.  I had a feeling that was what, Holcombe was thinking.

When I was standing in front of the mirror tying my tie, I saw in the reflection that Holcombe was looking at me as he was putting on his jacket. Turning around after one final adjustment of the knot, I reached for my jacket, and was putting it on when he said, "Sarge, a minute ago you said 'if, I kept on playing with your nipples, it might take us a little longer', and when I said, 'do you think it might', you said, 'it might have,'."

"Yes, I did," I replied, buttoning my jacket.

"When you said "might have", you were probably closer than you realized."

"How's that?" I asked, looking at him quizzically.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you everything, what with all that happened after I came in," he replied, breathing in deeply and hesitating for a moment.  "Your stateside orders came in, and your promotion to First Sergeant."

"Damn!!" I exclaimed loudly. "I hit the tri-fac-ta in one day."

"You did what?" Holcombe said, looking around nervously, and looking at me as if I had cracked.

"I hit the jackpot," I laughed.  "My orders out of this hell-hole come in along with a promotion; plus, I had sex with one helluva sexy stud." I said.

"I guess not," Holcombe replied, his crestfallen tone unnoticed in my excitement.

Unlike state side base, a promotion was not that much of a deal in a combat zone. The Colonel made a quick speech about responsibility, honor and how proud he was to have had me in his command. His grip was firm but from the way he pumped my arm memories of the iron well pump we had used to draw water in the mountains filled my head. The battalion commander was not quite as enthusiastic, he only shook my hand with a few words of thanks and good luck. My company commander shook one hand while handling me an envelope containing my First Sergeant chevrons and my orders stateside. "I hate to tell you this Sergeant but, you have been scheduled out on a flight this afternoon to Ford Ord, California. That does not leave you much to get your gear packed.  I'll have, Holcombe meet you at the terminal with your records and he can do the station check-out and save you some time. Yes, Sir, thank you Sir," I said glancing at Holcombe who was standing silently at a respectful distance.

I had enough time, barely, to have my new chevrons sewed on, and pack my gear.  My platoon Lieutenant lent me his jeep and driver for transportation, and Holcombe was waiting at the
check-in station for stateside departures holding a thick packet containing my records. An airforce sergeant was at the check-in counter and there was a bit of a hubbub being created by a group of excited and anxious soldiers. Nodding to, Holcombe, he follow me to an unoccupied bench by the windows.

As we sat down, he said, without looking at me, "I've go a hunch what your going to say but, I don't want you to. I was probably a nut for thinking it could ever happen but, my dream came true this morning, Marty," He whispered softly.  "I'm going to miss you but what the hell, we might meet again," he said, inhaling deeply as he lifted his head, and looked at me, his hazel eyes soft and dreamy.

"Okay, we'll leave it that way Holcombe but, there is one thing," I said, feeling a lump in my throat. "It was a morning that I won't forget anytime soon."

"Yeah, I know, I won't forget it," he replied, with a far away look in his eyes. "You better check in, Sarge, they're starting to load the plane."

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter #3

The Air Force Tech Sergeant at the check-in counter gave my military identification a quick look and after a cursory glance at my orders, he waved me through the gate.  There  were fifty or so other guys leaving on the same plane, and all of us could not get on fast enough after a group of fresh faced replacements sprinkled with an occasional dour faced Sergeant off-loaded. Holcombe was standing in the doorway and after a final look at the tortured landscape we were leaving, I gave him a quick salute, and ducked inside the mammoth interior of the plane.

No one should ever look forward to flying in an AirForce C-5 cargo jet. It was like flying in an ice-box and rough but to us it felt as if we were onboard a Pam Am Strata-Cruiser sitting in comfortable overstuffed seats.

* * * * * * * * * *

When we arrived in Fort Ord, California, we were given extensive physical examinations and underwent a thorough de-briefing. Things in general were pretty hectic during our stay, and every day we would be checking the barracks bulletin board to see who was listed for what assignments.  I, eventually, was given orders to duty with the Fort Ord Drill Sergeants School where I spent the remainder of the conflict in Viet Nam.

At first, I wasn't thrilled at staying on the West Coast as an instructor of sergeants until I went through three days of orientation. Me, and several of the other senior instructors were Viet Nam veterans.  We we had experienced was needed to instruct squad and platoon sergeants in what they could expect when the reached the rice paddies and jungles of Viet Nam.  The one thing we could not teach was the ability to distinguish between the Cong fighters and the civilian population.  Too learn that they would have to rely on their instincts.

* * * * * * * * * *

When my retirement date approached, I went through several re-enlistment seminars and personal interviews.  I was promised a promotion to Sergeant Major upon re-enlistment but when I asked what my next duty station would be the counselor admitted it would in all probability be Viet Nam.  There was a need for experienced Company Sergeant Major replacements.  Visions of Harold, Orville and the other men whom I had served with who had died flashed through my mind.

The young Second Lieutenant who was conducting the interview looked at me sad eyed, but not with disapproval.  "I guess I can understand how you feel First Sergeant," he said softly as he closed my service record. "I spent one tour in Saigon, and that was probably not as rough as what you went through in the north of that wretched country."

I expected more interviews in the following days, but after the tons of paperwork the Army always seemed to nee, my retirement from the U.S.Army became a reality.  The company commander wanted a full retirement ceremony but I declined. I had joined the Army without fanfare and leaving it the same way was okay with me.

* * * * * * * * * *

My pay had been held in Paymaster Savings while I was in Nam; and along with what I had saved through paymaster savings at three-percent compound interest it was a pretty good chunk of change. My home of record was recorded in my service record and with the paymaster as being, General Delivery, Hazard, Kentucky. My retirement checks would be sent there until I established a permanent address. 

I spent a few days in Louisville updating my wardrobe, and in general reacquainting myself with civilian life. A decent hotel room was a lot more expensive than the YMCA, so the YMCA is
where I stayed.

Besides being inexpensive, they were notorious for the sex that was available in the group shower rooms. After several days of cavorting in bars, in a seeming frenzy to make up for lost time, it was not long before I realized big city life was not all that it was cracked up to be. I was spending money; making out with how many studs in how many bars - I couldn't recall. I had sent my professional and educational resume to several companies in the hopes of a job offer, but
most prospective employers seemed to shy away when they read that I was a thirty-eight year old retired Army Sergeant, and my experience was military related. There aren't many employers that need an expert in hand-to-hand combat, high explosives, machine guns and hand grenades, with the ability to track in the jungles. I thought I was trainable but the general reason given was that their training programs were not geared to my age group. A good way of saying, "your to old."

The real clincher was when I went for a shower at the "Y". A blond headed really nice looking, well-built young guy maybe twenty-five or so was flogging the hell out of his meat until he saw me entering the shower room. He turned away, but I seen enough though that my equally impressive cock started to harden. Standing under the warm water and facing him, I innocently stroked my swelling cock a few times hoping for a reaction. After giving me a quick contemptuous glance, he turned the water off and left.

"Well, Marty boy," I said to myself as I finished showering, "When the tricks start looking at you that way, and you're only thirty-eight years old, still fairly good looking with a nicely muscled body and a hefty, always ready schlong, it's time to relocate.

* * * * * * * * * *

It surprised my brother, Donald, when I called telling him I was on my way home, and asking if I could stay with him until I found a place.  Donald was almost two years older then me and we really did not know each other that well. I had left and he stayed with his family, and our father working the farm. When he wrote and told me that Dad had died, and left him the farm, I didn't complain since he was the oldest,  I had no idea of ever returning to the mountains.

Don had married his high school sweetheart and they had four kids, three boys and a girl. After finishing their schooling, two of three boys married and left Hazard, much as I had. The girl married a young man who worked in the mines. They lived on a small plot of land north of Hazard on state route twenty five with their two kids.  The youngest of the boys, Nicholas, was still living at home with Don and his wife.  He told his wife was doing poorly, and that I'd have to share a room with Nicholas, but I was welcome to stay as long as I had a mind to.

The main farm of about sixty acres had been in the family for over four generations. It was bordered by Little Bear Creek to the east and oddly enough, Big Bear Creek to the North and West, and by Little Bear Creek to the East. The Southern boundary butted up against Window Rock Flats where another rock strewn five acres were located. Donald and his family made a descent living working the sixty acres raising a few head of milk and beef cattle along with the usual farm crops of corn, burly tobacco, and vegetables. The work was hard and, like our father, he never would be rich.

I hadn't spoke of it when I called, Donald but, I was more interested in the cabin that our grandfather had built on Window Rock Flats. The land was rocky and not worth farming or raising cattle. I figured that since Dad had left him the farm, Don would let me have the property at a decent price. Between my government pension and careful husbanding of the money that I had saved in addition to the blue chip investments that I had made, I should be able to live descent. I knew that I would need something with power to get around in the mountains.  I didn't want to be depending on other people for transportation after getting to Hazard, and I wasn't looking forward to the bone crushing ride in a smelly Greyhound back into the hills; stopping at every wide spot in the road to pickup passengers, toting bags and boxes in addition to squalling kids. After looking at several makes and models, I settled on burgundy colored four-wheel drive GMC Yukon with a black leather interior.

The closer I got to Hazard the more logging and coal trucks were on the road. Some of them were real monsters, and loaded to overflowing. The town had not changed an awful lot in the years I had been away, but it looked sweet to me compared to when I was in Viet Nam. Funny how that works, you can't wait to get away but it always looks so good when you come back. I guess there is something to the old saying of there being no place like home.
Following the unchanged creek bed roadway that we had playing in as kids, I pulled into the lane that led to the old home place. I saw Don come out on the porch, shading his eyes with his hand; watching as I approached the house. I could see that he had made a few changes but other than a refurbished out-house, and a new much larger barn replacing the old dilapidated one I remembered, the place looked pretty much the same. When I stopped on the side of the house he came around from the front, not really in a hurry, Don had not changed; he was still slow and not quick to greet people.

"Hey Big Brother, got a hug for your Little Brother?" I called out as I got out of the truck.

My brother's eyes got a little bigger as he recognized me. "Well I'll be damned, Marty," He exclaimed. "Your sure don't look like the Little Brother that left here," he said as we approached each other. While we hugged, I wanted to plant a kiss on his cheek but I just hugged him tight.

Don was going on forty-two years old but hard mountain life had worked its way with him. He still had the unmistakable haunting good looks of a Baxter but hard back-breaking work had aged him beyond his years. Later when we were talking he told me that since his boys had married and moved away, he was only working the farm part time. Even with Nicholas helping out after school, and in the summers, it was more than the two of them could handle and he decided to sign back on with the state highway department. The job kept him away a lot but
Nicholas was still with them, and he did the chores for his mother, Shelly, and kept her company.

"How old is Nick, Don?" I asked as we stepped on the porch and sat down. "I've never met him."

"No, you haven't met Nicholas, have you," Don said in his slow mountain drawl, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he leaned back in his wicker wood rocker. "He's a good-looking full-sized eighteen-year old boy who is fast becoming a man, Marty, and he favors you when you were that age afore you joined the army."

"That makes two strikes against him if he favors his uncle instead of his father," I replied off-handedly, chuckling and trying to make Don's comments seem less interesting while I tried to conjure a vision of what my nephew might look like if he favored me.

"There's some truth to that, Marty," he replied, glancing at me quickly as he continued, "He seems to favor our momma in looks much like you do, and he has your charm and way with words. He is as hard headed as I am and as headstrong as you were - and probably still are, and he has the same independent streak that you had when you were his age."

"Was I all that bad, Don," I asked casually, recalling events where my brother was not always happy with me, and my way of getting what I wanted from our parents.

"No, I don't reckon you were that bad, Marty, just aggravating," he responded as he stood. "There's no mistaking he's your nephew, though, in looks and attitude. He's been excited ever since I told him that you were coming home," he said, sighing softly as he continued. "I didn't mention it, but, what with shelly not doing so well of late, I've been using the empty bedroom so she could rest better. You'll have to share Nicholas room or bunk in with me but, you didn't say anything about it but when I mentioned how much you always liked the cabin up on Window Rock Flats and might want to stay there instead of bunking in with one of us, he's been up there every day scrubbing, fixing and painting. The cabin is in good shape but it did need a good cleaning and a coat of paint."

"We haven't slept together since we were kids, Don," I chuckled loudly, thinking back on the days when we were kids. "I don't reckon we need to be starting that all over again do we?"

"I don't reckon we do," he replied unemotionally, as we strolled toward the Yukon.

"I was going to talk to you about Window Rock Flats, Don," I said thoughtfully as we walked. "It will probably take awhile before I found a place of my own but if Nicholas has fixed it up like you say he has it makes sense to use it."

"Makes sense," he replied.  "You might have to boot Nicholas out, he loves it up there."

"If that's the case, Don, how about driving up with me?" I asked. "Nick doesn't know me, and he might get spooked when he sees a stranger."

"Stranger," he replied, grinning for the first time. "That's not likely to happen, Marty. I've shown him pictures of you, and he knows how much you favor each other. Ever since I told him you'd be coming in, he's practically moved in the cabin so he can clean and fix it up. He's a loner just like you were,
but I don't think he'll ever leave like you and his brothers did. Nicholas, for what reason God only knows, loves these mountains. He tramps around in the woods with an old bolt-action twenty-two rifle he bought, when he's not in school, working at his job at the Mercantile in town or helping his mother or me. He stays in the cabin whenever he's out or just to get away by himself much like you did when we were kids. I guess you remember there ain't much of a road on that ridge since not many go up that way, especially those that live in these parts and know how rough it is."

"How about hunters, Don?" I asked. "There used to be great deer hunting in the Flats when we were boys."

"You said it right, Marty, 'used to be'," he replied, leaning against the Yukon and looking at me. "Hunting hereabouts has about played out since the logging companies have been cutting down trees like the forest will always be there. The loggers have been after me to let them on that land, and they have offered me a fair amount of money for the rights to log it, but it's posted, and the Sheriff has warned a few of the hardheaded ones that have trespassed. That land may be too rocky for farming or much of anything else, but it still has a fair amount of game, that don't have many places to go, in amongst the trees and brush. There are stands of Birch, Black Walnut and Ash that were here before our people settled in these mountains. The loggers would love to harvest that timber, but if I allowed it, the game would disappear, and the land would be ruined to where it would take generations before game returned much less the trees replacing those that had been taken away," he said, breathing in deeply as he gazed contemplatively at the mountains. "Besides, I don't need the money that bad; and I'd like to leave it natural, the way our folks found it."

My brother's hidden passion surprised me and for a moment I was at a loss for words. He had never been very emotional or passionate when we were younger, and I didn't know how deep his feelings for the land that our forefathers had settled ran.

"It's called progress, Don," I said after a few moments reflection. "It's the pursuit of the all mighty dollar and to hell with the rest. I'm glad you didn't lose Window Rock Flats; I was steadily thinking about it when I was in Nam."

"That's what it's called, Marty, and I'll admit that I was tempted a few times but I reckon, Nicholas would have disowned me if I'd given in to the loggers. That boy sure has a powerful feeling about the woods, and since I told him his great-grandfather had built it, the cabin in particular, that is where he spends most of his free time," he said, sighing audibly as he moved away from the Yukon. "I wouldn't mind seeing what Nicholas has done to the place; but, I have to run over to the New Clinic north of town to renew a prescription that Shelly needs. I'll be back in a couple of hours and we can talk more, unless you decide on staying up at the cabin. If you do, Nicholas might ask if he can stay with you, but that's up to you. He has been bugging me on and off for months about letting him use the place. Now that he is eighteen, he thinks he is man enough to be on his own," Don said, chuckling softly. "I seem to remember, back a way's, someone else had those ideas."

"Once upon a time, Don," I said. "Times have changed since those days."

"I reckon maybe they have," he replied as he turned going back to the house without a handshake or a see you later.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter #4

I'd forgotten that down in the valleys between the mountains the days were shortened as the sun moves to the west. It was not really dark, but I turned on the headlights as I drove over the rocky road that led to the cabin. Oddly enough, as I went higher the sky seemed to lighten and helped to see through the thick stands of the ancient trees surrounding the cabin, and on each side of the narrow road. There was an old clunker Ford pickup sitting a few yards ahead of me in the road, and some two hundred feet or so beyond the truck, my headlights illuminated the cabin nestled in among the trees and a few elderberry bushes. . The road ended where the old truck was sitting, and there was a small, mostly rock free clearing that you could park or turn around in. I managed to pull off of the road enough to squeeze past the pickup, and park my SUV in the clearing.

Though it was the middle of July
it was noticeably cooler in the mountains and I remembered how hot and muggy it had been in the foxholes and rice paddies of Viet Nam.   There was many a day when I wished I were here in the mountains on the rough unfinished road that led too my grandfather's cabin. In the waning light, I could see that Nicholas had been doing a pretty good job cleaning up. There was a small clearing in front of the cabin and the caulking between the freshly painted logs stood out starkly in the semi-darkness. Two wooden chairs were sitting on the small covered porch. The porch floor creaked when I stepped on it, and when I heard the sound of movement and a muffled voice inside, I was about to speak out when a voice called out,
"Hey, is someone out there? If there is, this is private property, and trespassers are not permitted."

"If that's you Nicholas, it's your Uncle Marty," I replied loudly, suppressing the urge to laugh at the seriousness of his youthful admonition. .

There was the unmistakable sound of creaking bedsprings on the other side of the door, and then as the door opened a young man, silhouetted by interior lamplight, filled the doorway. "Uncle Marty," a lyrical yet moderately deep voice exclaimed excitedly. "Is it really you? Dad didn't tell me that you were going to be here today," he said rapidly, almost breathlessly.

In the dim light, I estimated that he was just shy of being six feet tall and probably weighed a pound or two over one hundred sixty. He was barefooted, shirtless and wearing a pair of loose fitting khaki shorts. His well-muscled shoulders were broad and his biceps tapered to shapely forearms with a light growth of dark hair that matched what appeared to be a rather unruly mop on his head. Dark salmon-pink aureoles surrounded and enhanced the dark brown nipples protruding from the smooth wide expanse of his thickly muscled chest. His heart beat was clearly visible at the sternum juncture where his hard pectoral muscles met. His ribs were sharply defined beneath velvety soft flesh joining with the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles. A light sprinkling of dark hair surrounded his inny naval and then flowed downward over his flat stomach to disappear under the loose waistband of his shorts.

I felt the beat of my heart increasing as my eyes unabashedly devoured the gorgeous youngster silhouetted in the doorway. His waist and hips were small but in proportion with his magnificently sculpted torso, and it was evident that his thighs and calves were well defined and muscled with a moderate growth of dark silky hair.

We stood quietly looking at each other for what seemed an eternity, and I could see a soft iridescent glow in the depths of his steel-gray eyes as he unashamedly returned my gaze. My mind was filled with erotic thoughts, and I was having difficulty restraining the lust induced hardening of my cock. I had never seen a picture of or met the boy but with one look, he would have set a lot of guys I had known on their collectively asses. Nicholas was a knockout. He was Michelangelos 'David' and the 'Adonis' of Olympus combined to become a gay man's dream, and from the almost arrogant way he stood in the doorway with his legs splayed, looking at me, I knew he knew it.

Diverting my gaze and swallowing, I managed to say, "I hope I didn't interrupt something you were doing, Nick? Is there something I can help with?" I asked as he stood back clearing the way into the interior of the cabin.

"No, that's okay, Uncle Marty," he answered as he covertly but not to deftly attempted to adjust the bulge in his shorts as he moved back into the interior light of the cabin. "I was almost finished when you called out but, it's nothing that I can't do later on."

"If you need some help, let me know," I said, deliberately shifting my eyes to the impressive bulge in his crotch while suggestively, seductively, softening my tone.

"I will, Uncle Marty," he answered as he closed the door breathing in deeply as he turned toward the only bed in the room.

His shorts hung loosely around his hips revealing the beginning groove that would become the cleft between his tight buttocks. His muscles rippled smoothly as he glided athletically toward the bed to retrieve the patchwork quilt laying across the foot of the bed. Opening it, he swung it over his shoulders as he turned toward me, and I said, "It is kind of cool up here for wearing shorts. You don't wear shorts all of the time do you?"

"No, not usually," he answered softly almost demurely, the dark intensity of his eyes holding mine as he drew the quilt tightly around his shoulders. "It was still pretty warm when I first got here earlier this afternoon. I took my overalls and shirt off while I was doing the cleaning. The cabin was kind of warm and stuffy, and it's a lot more comfortable working in shorts than heavy clothing," he said. "Dad had told me that you were coming home and he mentioned that you might want to use the cabin but, I really wasn't looking for you to be here today," he said in a soft slow drawl much like his fathers. "I've finished everything except making the bed."

"Making the bed," I said in a surprised tone as I took stock of the room's furnishings. "Where did the furniture come from, Nicholas? Your dad told me the cabin hadn't been used, and I assumed there would be no furniture to speak of."

"It isn't much, Uncle Marty, but I bought most of it from the second hand store in town. The table and chairs only cost a couple of dollars, and they were not that much trouble to bring up, but bringing the mattress and box spring up was the hardest. I had to tote them up one piece at a time in my truck," Nicholas said excitedly his eyes gleaming like a puppy dog waiting to be praised.

"You did a helluva job, Nicholas," I said. "Carrying the box spring and mattress from your truck to the cabin must be about two hundred yards or so, but from what I see looking at you, I don't think you had much of a problem."

"Thanks, Uncle Marty," he replied, lowering his steel-gray eyes, and turning his face away as he spoke. "I've been trying to get dad to let me stay here after I turned eighteen. I've been fixing it up a little at a time without him knowing about it, but I guess you'll be staying here now that your home."

"We spoke about it briefly, Nicholas, but really, wouldn't you be warmer if you put your other clothes on?"

"I guess the shirt would be warmer," he said, swinging the blanket off of his shoulders and dropping it on the bed.

His muscles rippled golden in the warm amber yellow light of the kerosene lamp as he removed the blanket, and reached for the flannel shirt hanging on the back of one of the chairs. Shrugging the shirt on over his broad shoulders, he left it open revealing the sexy, beautifully sculpted muscles of his chest with their dark protruding nipples, and his inny naval peeking from the dark river of hair flowing between rigid abdominal muscles.

Twisting around toward the wood stove, he said, "If you want me to, Uncle Marty, I can fix a fire in the stove and it'll be warm in no time. I've stayed here a couple of times during the winter and spring, and it warms up pretty fast. There's an electric heater over by the bed that you can use but I like a wood fire. I like to snuggle under the blankets especially when it's raining on the tin roof, and a wood fire makes it a lot cozier," he said, talking rapidly as I looked around the cabin and listened to the melodious flow of his soft baritone. "The Rural Electric Association ran lines throughout the valley several years back, and when they asked him for the right of way to cross Window Rock Flats, Gramps had them run a line into the cabin."

"A fire sounds good to me, but I don't see any electric lights, Nick, only kerosene lamps," I said, looking around the room, and waiting to see if he would correct the shortening of his name as my brother had said he would. When he didn't reply, I pulled one of the wooden chairs back from the table and sat down to watch him building the fire.

He knelt on one knee in front of the stove, the muscles of his back moving rhythmically under the flannel cloth of his shirt, his biceps swelling as he removed small stove sized pieces of wood from the wood box. His back broadening as he breathed, the flaring of his lateral back muscles accentuating the smallness of his waist.  In his kneeling position the cloth of his shorts was drawn tightly around his dimpled buttocks, and I felt my cock swelling, stretching down the inside of my left thigh. I sat mesmerized by the thoughts of what he would look like completely undressed, I was fantasizing about how large the impressive bulge in his shorts would be when his voice shattered my thoughts as he spoke, hesitantly, "I...I don't like electric lights Uncle Marty, so I didn't look for any," he said softly, almost in a whisper. "Even with shades over the bulbs, I don't like the glare. Kerosene flames give off a soft, warm romantic light that makes it feel cozy," he said softly, placing another piece of wood in the firebox and glancing at me, his eyes twinkling impishly. "Maybe after you've been home for awhile, you'll invite someone to stay with you overnight, and I bet you'd like to be warm and cozy the same way that I would."

His voice was husky and deeper in tone, and the erogenous glint in his eyes was unmistakable. His words and his seductive movements, plus leaving his shirt wide open to reveal the masculine beauty of his muscular chest and ripped abdomen, sent a teasing, tantalizingly erotic message. He was my nephew, but by his actions and the tenor of his voice, almost from the moment he opened the front door - indicated he was either gay or in the throes of trying to understand the feelings that all young men his age experienced. The testosterone level in the cabin seemed to have increased considerably, but a small inner voice said, "Be careful, Marty, if he is what you believe the signs indicate he may be, let him make the first overture."

"That's not likely to happen anytime soon, Nick," I said, watching him intently. "Most of the kids that I went to school with have probably left like I did; and, I'm afraid I've been away far to long for anyone else to remember me or me them even if it is where I was born and raised."

"My sister Beverly, your niece lives on the other side of town, and she has two kids that are your great-nephews. You know Mom and Dad, and you know me," he said as he stood and closed the stove door before moving to the bed and sitting down. His shirt opened further and he spread his legs apart with his hands resting over the bulge in his crotch, his fingers tucked under his cloth-covered balls squeezing gently.

Thoughts of Orville, my foxhole mate and his forwardness flashed through my head as Nick gently, almost imperceptibly squeezed and fondled his cock and balls. I could see a glint of hopeful anticipation in his eyes as he nervously ran the pink tip of his tongue over soft succulent lips and poignant memories of Holcombe surfaced from the depths of my testosterone shrouded memory.

"You're right, Nick," I replied as I moved from my chair to the bed, sitting beside him almost hip to hip. "We know each other but since we just met, don't you think we should get to know each other better," I said, softly sensually, as I placed my hand on his thick velvety soft thigh, squeezing gently.

His thigh muscle tensed under my hand and then slowly relaxed, but when he didn't move away or protest, I inhaled deeply before exploring further and sliding my fingers down the inside of his thigh. Squeezing gently, I heard a soft almost inaudible moan and then Nick inhaled deeply, emitting a long sensual sigh as he exhaled,  shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. Glancing at his crotch, I saw his hard cock straining against the front of his shorts. His gleaming eyes held mine as he leaned toward me, breathing through his partially parted lips, his voice gravely with emotion as he whispering, "Dad told me that come hell or high water, you always went for what you wanted, Uncle Marty."

"That's usually true Nick, but this is different, you're my nephew."

"What difference does that make?" He asked, breathlessly, squeezing his cock as he looked at me with pleading eyes.

Reaching out, I brushed his hand away, and placed my hand over the pulsing bulge in his groin. He gasped at my touch, sucking his breathe into his lungs between clinched pearl white teeth as I squeezed, feeling the beat of his heart and the intense heat. "It probably does not make that much difference, but...are you sure this is what you want?"

"More than you know, Uncle Marty," he said as he stood in front of me, breathing heavily as he unbuttoned the waistband and unzipped his shorts. His shorts dropped around his ankles revealing a smoothly tapered, impressive uncircumcised shaft of several inches rearing its blood-engorged crown. His walnut sized balls swung free like the clapper on a bell, and when he kicked his shorts aside, his cock and balls swung freely, invitingly, mere inches from my lips.

Glancing up at him standing over me, his lust filled eyes glistened with unabated desire. He teasingly ran his fingers through the thick dark silky hair surrounding the thick base of his cock and down under his balls. Lifting them and his impressive cock as he spread his legs, he growled softly, the color of his his eyes darkening, blazing with and inner passion, his voice filled with emotion as he spoke. "I wanted you when the door opened and I think you want me as much as I want you, Uncle Marty."

"Oh, my God," I groaned softly, the remaining barriers between uncle and nephew rapidly dissolving.

* * * * * * * * * *

Standing and undressing quickly, I turned toward Nicholas, and he moved into my open arms, his magnificent body melding with mine. We held each other quietly for a moment, listening to the rapid beating of our hearts, our breathing quickening and our cocks pressed tightly between us. He returned my gaze unflinchingly as I looked into the depths of his eyes and whispered, "You're sure...!"

He licked his soft succulent lips, and tightening his arms around me, he gazed into my eyes and said, "Uncle Marty, I've known that there was something different about the way I felt around other boys ever since I turned thirteen years old. I used to get excited, and jerk off wondering if other boys felt the same way. I got over any idea that I was straight when I listened to some of the older boys in school talking about how much they wanted to fuck some girl because she was easy and would put out. I didn't feel a thing for girls but when I got a hard-on looking at another boy's ass when we were in the shower's, I knew what I wanted. Guys are supposed to want girls not boys but that wasn't the way I felt," he said reflectively, hesitating for a moment. "Yeah, I'm sure," he whispered as he gently pressed his lips to mine.

His tongue felt like a steel javelin darting, probing, dueling with mine. His arms were steel bands holding us tightly together chest to chest, groin to groin, and I felt the fierce beating of his heart and intense throbbing of his cock pressed against mine.  I could tell his passion was increasing from his breathing through his nose and the fierce beating of his heart.

We both were gasping from the passionate intensity of our first kiss, and we fell back onto the bed moving to the center. Rolling Nick on his back, he moaned softly squirming as I lip kissed and caressed the sculpted muscles of his chest and the soft flesh of his neck and shoulders. Running my fingers over the satiny soft flesh of his ribs, his muscles tightened at the sensation of my fingers gliding teasingly over his satiny soft flesh. He moaned sensually as my lips nibbled his hard nipples and he murmured, "Marty, Marty, Marty."

His cock was a sheathed hot steel rod and I squeezed it gently sliding his foreskin back and forth without full exposing the blood-engorged crown while I sucked his naval.  Feeling the tightening of his abdominal muscles,
my tongue probed deeper into his naval, playing, creating the electrifying sensation that I knew was being generated between his naval and the base of his throbbing cock. Nick sucked air deep into his lungs when I moved between his legs and licked his balls while my fingers played in the silky soft pubic hair surrounding the thick base of his cock.

Forming a ring around the base of his cock with my thump and forefinger, I drew the foreskin back exposing its blood-engorged head to the air as I engulfed his nuts, sucking them tightly into my mouth. Groaning, Nick violently thrust his hips upwards in reaction to the sudden sensation of the cooler air on the head of his pre-seminal slick cock, and my warm wet mouth sucking his balls.  The sudden tightening of his muscles, and the violent movement of his hips pulled his balls from my mouth. "Easy, Nicky, easy," I cooed softly, gently rolling his balls upward over the base of his throbbing cock with one hand while I massaged his hard flat abdomen wit the others.  When I felt his body relaxing and his breathing subsiding, I scooted up between his legs spreading them wider.

Momentarily leaning back on my haunches, I ran my hands over Nick's strong thigh's, and gazed down at the magnificent man-boy who was unhesitatingly giving himself to me. His chest rose and fell evenly, glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration, and I cold see the pulsing beat of his heart at the sternum juncture of his thick chest muscles. Leaning forward, I slipped one hand under his steel hard cock while I fondled his balls with the other. Slowly lifting and pulling his cock toward me, I felt the saliva gathering and dripping from the corners of my mouth as I lowered my lips to its pre-cum oozing, blood-engorged crown. Nick trembled slightly as my lips engulfed his magnificent manhood, sucking it into my mouth, my tongue washing the hidden glans as the foreskin slid back. He groaned from deep within his chest, and pushed my head down as he lifted his hips. Holding my head tightly, his cock penetrated the depths of my saliva filled mouth until the crown touched the back of my mouth at the entrance to my throat. Holding his cock tightly with my lips and tasting the pre-cum flowing from its urethral aperture, a feeling of intense ecstasy washed over me as he softly pleaded,
"Ohhhhh, God, Marty, suck me please, drain my nuts."

Nick was breathing heavily, and his steel hard cock was swelling and throbbing in sync with the beat of his heart. I craved the bitter sweet taste of his thick boy cream flowing down my throat. As much as I wanted to prolong the ecstasy and my desire to slowly lift him to the exquisite heights that only two men could ever enjoy, I knew from the pulsing of his cock in my mouth and the tenseness of his quivering muscles that he would not be able to restrain the eminent explosion of his emotions and enjoy the surreal experience.

Throwing the blanket back I turned around, straddling his torso with my legs, my lips holding his cock tightly. Inhaling deeply through my nose passages and relaxing the muscles in my throat, I lowered my head forcing his cock down into my throat. Nick screamed loudly at the sensation of his cock being swallowed completely, and he drove his hips upwards as his turgid cock swelled and exploded with volcanic force. Thick streams of his life giving cream filled my mouth and cascaded down my throat like hot molten lava. His body thrashed as I sucked and squeezed his cock with my mouth and lips drawing him deeper. I felt a sense of euphoria settling over us as I engorged the nectar I had desperately craved, and as much as I would have wanted my cock implanted deep in his tight ass or throat, I wanted him more.

He continued, spasm after spasm, filling me with his thick bitter-sweet cream and I gripped his nuts kneading and massaging his receding balls.  Little by little his tight sac lengthened until his balls fell back into my hand and his cock slowly, very slowly softened even as my tongue caressed its velvety length, my lips squeezing, draining the last remnants of the aphrodisiac Nick had created.

In the deep satisfying fog of sexual afterglow, I heard Nick gasping for air and begging me to release his cock; and, I forced myself to overcome the reluctance to bread the connection that we had forged. As his still impressive cock slipped from my lips, I rolled off to the side and turning around, I stretched out beside him whispering softly, "Relax, Nicky, breathe deeply and let your body go limp."

We lay quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the sexual sensation that engulfed as in an afterglow of pleasure.

"My god, Uncle Marty," he said softly almost reverently. "I thought you were going to drain every bit of juice in my body. Lord it was like being sucked inside of you, all I cold feel was the intense pressure of your lips and the cum gushing up through my cock. I loved it.  Jesus, does it always feel like that?"

"Pretty much it does. But that was your first time being sucked off wasn't it? It is a lot more intense the first time since, except for the sensation that comes when you beat off, you don't really know what sex with another man is going to be like," I said, turning my head and looking at him. "There are other things that you will like if you want to learn what they are."

"I want to learn everything you know," he said, raising up on his elbow and looking at me in the soft light of the lamp a soft glow in his eyes. Leaning over me, he brushed my lips with his and whispered, "You didn't cum, Marty. Do you want me to try and do what we just did?"

For a brief second, I was tempted but I knew it would take time for him to become fully cognizant of the procedures for full and ecstatic male-on-male sex.

"Not this time, Nicky, just let me lay here and you can jerk me off okay?"

Taking my half hard cock in his hand
he started slowly stroking and rubbing it as he kissed my face. My cock thickened and hardened like steel as he stroked it and he laid his head on my chest watching as he steadily stroked my cock.

I felt the intensity of the pressure in my nuts increasing, and groaning softly, I said, "You might get a face full that way Nicky, I'm pretty close."

He didn't move but he increased the tempo of his strokes squeezing my cock tight as he felt my cock swelling and tightening with each stroke. I could feel the explosion building in my nuts and at the base of my burgeoning cock, and my muscles tightening, my back arching as the intensity built to a cataclysmic eruption and I groaned "Nicky, here it comes. Ohhhhhhhhhh god." He continued squeezing and stroking my cock as the spasms wracked my body sending huge streams of cream like a geyser spewing its hot water into the air. Thick sticky gobs of sperm fell on my chest, stomach, and Nicks face. I saw his eyes glistening with excitement as he continued jerking me off even as my muscles started relaxing, and my cock slowly softened in his hand. I ran my fingers through his hair, relishing the ecstatic feelings he was creating with his continued stroking. When he stopped, I inhaled and as I was exhaling, I felt his hot tongue on my chest licking the cum off.

"Nicky," I exclaimed, "You don't need to do that."

"Mmmmm, why not?" He replied. It tastes a little like mine, only a little saltier maybe, but I like it. It's so thick and creamy, Uncle Marty, and so much of it come out of your cock.  I didn't think it was going to step." 

"That's one of the benefits of being young, Nicky, you taste sweeter, but yours will be as thick and creamy as you get older," I said, chuckling softly. "You probably will shoot more of it, but for the life of me, I don't see how you could shoot anymore than you did a few moments ago."

Lying back beside me after he had licked most of the sperm from my body he snuggled in close again and looked up at me like a little boy. His body was soft and the hair in his groin was silky soft, not wiry like so many others I had been in bed with. He breathed softly and deeply, his heart beat matching my own. I liked the feel of him holding me with my arms around his shoulders. 

"Thanks Uncle Marty," he murmured sleepily. "I really liked doing it with you."
"I liked it too Nicky." I said but he didn't hear me, he was slipping off to sleep. I smiled and pulled the blankets over us holding him closely.

* * * * * * * * * *

We must have slept pretty soundly not waking up until just before sunrise. Nick was snuggled close, his hard cock laying on my left thigh and his arm over my chest. He was sleeping like a baby, his muted breathing soft and regular. I could feel the slow regular strong beat of his heart matching my own and I leaned down kissing the tip of his nose. He giggled a little playing possum like he was asleep. I kissed him again, but this time on his lips. Thrusting his arms around my neck, his velvety tongue darted from between his lips pressing against my lips demanding entry. When I opened my lips his tongue probed deep within my mouth twisting with mine as his steel muscled arms pulled us tightly together, and he ground his hard cock against mine. I felt his teenage passion building, but my bladder was ready to burst. Pulling my head back and separating our lips, I mumbled, "Good morning Nicky."

"Good morning," he said, relaxing his hold around my neck and smiling at me impishly. "Did you sleep good? I slept like a log."

"The same, but right now I need to piss really bad," I said, groaning and acting like I was in pain. "Unless you wake up with a hardon every morning, which you probably do anyway, I guess you need to also."

His eyes twinkled brightly, and he grinned almost evilly as he said, "Usually, I do but either way it does not stay soft long. Right now though it's a little cold outside to be using the outhouse, and I didn't think about needing a honey pot," He said, nodding at the frosted windows.

"We can't do much about that right now so lets run outside the porch, piss and get back in bed," I suggested, not feeling quite as brave as I may have sounded.

We both threw the blankets off and giggling like little boys, dashed for the door. We stood bare-assed on the edge of the porch, thick clouds of steam rose from the strong streams of golden urine as we pissed. The valley below was covered in a thick morning fog and although you couldn't see any of the homes, the spirals of blue smoke from either fireplaces or wood stoves filtered upward through the fog.

Nick finished just before me and milking down its still impressive length, he ran back into the cabin jumping in bed. I followed in pretty quick order and tucking the blankets around us, we held each other tightly, soaking up the warmth given off by our bodies.

I'd forgotten how cold the mornings could be in the mountains, even in summer. It would take some time before the rising sun vanquished the morning mists and fog but
from the way Nick was holding me, I don't think he had any intention
of exposing his gorgeous body to the cold until the room was sufficiently warm enough to dress.

There was one thought that nagged at me, his aggressiveness almost as soon as we met. Straight or gay teenagers were normally a little reticent to reveal themselves as quickly as he had. 

"Nicky, how did you know I might like men and not girls?"

"I heard Dad talking with my brothers; and he said he was surprised you were coming back here. He told them he knew you were a faggot and liked men when you left. He said it surprised him when you called about wanting to come back home to the mountains since you always were the one who wanted to get out of here and go to the big cities," He said, scooting away from me so he could lift up and support himself on his elbow. "Dad didn't know I was in the other room when he was telling Ned and Jesse about you. They didn't like it either, and Ned, the oldest told dad he didn't have to let you stay there. He said you could get a room in town. I thought that was a pretty mean thing to say, but Jesse, he's  meaner than Ned. He told dad that if you liked boys that much, you might try and put the make on me, and it would be better off for me if you weren't around at all. That pissed me off and I was gonna say something but they get nasty when they drink whiskey and beer, so I slipped out of the house and came up here," he said softly as he laid back down snuggling closer and laying his head on my chest.

"That is a hell of a way to learn that your uncle, a relative, might be gay, but to learn how his dad and siblings felt about gay people must have been even more of a shock." I thought to myself, absentmindedly entangling my fingers in his thick shock of hair.

"Nicky, I knew how your dad felt about me when I left, and that's okay, that's between him and me," I said softly, gently squeezing the velvety soft flesh of his shoulder. " what really surprises me are the feelings you said your brothers have abut me, and they don't even know me. I've never been around either of them for them to have hateful feelings like you say they do, and the only way I can think they would feel like they do is maybe because of your dad.

"It's not just gay people, Uncle Marty," Nick replied, his soft warm breath wafting across my chest. "When they are drinking, Dad says stuff about faggots, niggers, Jews, Catholics, just about anyone that he does not like or think they way he does. Before she came down sick, it upset Mom so bad she would go into her bedroom to get away from listening to them."

I hadn't thought about it like that, and he was right. My brother would never let a faggot stay in his house, not the way he thought about gay people.

"You may be right, Nicky, but why doesn't he talk with you as well as your brothers?"

"Because, when he is drunk he accuses me of being gay since I don't have any girl friends and faggots don't need to know about sex with girls. That hurt, Uncle Marty but when I tried to talk with Ned and Jess about how I felt, they always had something else to do or told me to ask my teachers," he said, lifting up on his elbow again. "I've known how I felt since I was twelve or thirteen years old, Uncle Marty, and I started liking being around boys more then girls and in a small town like Hazard it doesn't take long for rumors to spread and people talk whether they know anything or not"

"You mean people suspected you might like boys and not girls?" I asked. "How do they know?"

"They think it Uncle Marty, but they don't know it," he answered. I have never done anything with anyone except jerk off with my older cousin, Malcolm when I was thirteen years old and he was fifteen. We came up here once when he was visiting and he started talking about sex and what boys do together. He was rubbing his crotch and when I saw the bulge in his shorts, I started to get a hardon. My cock was a little bigger than his, and that made me feel pretty good since he was older and bigger than me back then. I had heard guys in school talking about jerking off but when he saw the way I was doing it, he put his fingers around my cock and showed me the right way to do it.  We jerked each other off a few times after that but jerking off was the only thing that I have ever done with another boy. I was in the outhouse once when Dad caught me jerking off and he gave me a whipping calling me a faggot. I know what being gay is, Uncle Marty, and I know what a faggot is supposed to be, and I am not a faggot."

"No more than I am," I replied. "Is that why you wanted to live up here?"

"Partly that, but I like being alone sometimes," he answered.  "I probably won't be going to college at least for awhile because we don't have the money, but I have a job at the County Mercantile Exchange and if dad had let me here in the cabin, I was going to fix it up some more and try and save up for the tuition," he said, looking at me anxiously, continuing before I could speak.  "I...I saw a small used refrigerator that costs fifteen dollars and would be nice to have. The electricity won't cost that much and...and if you decide to stay maybe you'll let me live with you."

"Why would you think I might not stay here Nicky?"

"Dad said he didn't figure you'd be sticking around very long. He said the only thing you ever really did was join the Army, and he never could figure that out since you never did take to being told what to do when you were home and he didn't think you'd make it in the army what with taking orders and all from strangers."

"He's only partially right, Nicky" I replied, chuckling softly as I piled the pillows behind me hugged him to me. He pulled the blankets up under his arms and tucked them in around us looking up at me with a love in his soft gray eyes that many people never knew.  "There is a big difference between being in the Army and living in Hazard, Nicky. Like you, I knew how I felt about boys and getting away was the best thing. Your grandfather never talked about sex with your dad or me, it was a forbidden subject.  You know your dad is older than me, and when we were kids, he liked to jerk off. We learned how to jerk off together, and we even jerked each other off. He said he only did it to see what it felt like to jerk off another guy, but I could tell he liked it even though he wouldn't let me jerk him off as we got older, I knew he still jerked off, and if it makes you feel any better the outhouse was one of his favorite places."

" and dad jerked each other off, Uncle Marty? God, I don't believe it," he said in a shocked tone, leaning his head back and grinning at me his eyes gleaming. "The only thing he ever told me was about the difference between boys and girls and what would happen if I knocked one up,
but that's all. I tried and I tried but he never would talk about jerking off or why I felt the way I did.  He ignored me, calling it a phase that I'd grow out of as I got older."

"Jesus, it all sounds so familiar," I thought. "Just like when I was a boy and my dad, Nicks grandfather, would not discuss sex with Donald or me. Donald was funny about it, trying to hide how he felt, but still wanting to learn and experiment together, at least until we got older."

"Nicky, do you really want to stay with me here in the cabin?"

"Sure I would and I know dad won't mind," he answered excitedly, suddenly sitting up and looking at me anxiously, the blanket falling from his broad shoulders and gathering in his lap exposing a hint of soft silky hair. His beautifully sculpted chest rose and fell rapidly as he gazed at me for a moment before he continued speaking rapidly.  "You aren't kidding me are you, Uncle Marty. I'll do my share, and help with the cleaning, and... and, I'm pretty sure we will get along," he said, blushing with a twinkle in his expressive steel-gray eyes.

"I am sure we we will but we both have a lot too learn about each other if we are going to be living together," I said, gazing into his eyes and moving my hand over the soft inner flesh of his thigh.

"Remember," he said a little coquettishly. "I'm a mountain boy like you were before you left and mountain boys learn fast. I know how to clean, cut firewood, cook enough that we won't starve, and make a descent pot of coffee, Uncle Marty but, I've already learned a lot since yesterday," he said, pulling the blanket from between us as he stretched out and covered my body with his, our hard cocks pressed tightly between us.

I could feel the passion vibrating within him and see the fire in the depths of his gleaming eyes as he slid his arms under my shoulder blades holding me tightly. The touch of his ball sac resting against mine sent tingling shocks into the base of my cock. When, I inhaled and moaned softly, his eyes glistened with excitement and he slowly, gently rotated his hips, our pre-seminal slick cocks slithering between us much as snakes do in their mating ritual. I felt an intense warmth spreading over me as my body responded to the erotic movement of his hips and the unrestrained fire burning in the depths of his soul.  The need to make love to him, to have him as mine and give myself to him, to become one with each other was overpowering. Deep in the recesses of my soul, I knew we were meant to be with each other. Slipping my arms around his  torso, I flexed my muscles and pulling him tightly to me, I whispered, "Maybe two mountain boys can teach each other."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmaybe," he murmured as our lips met in passionate kiss, our bodies melding as one. 

* * * * * * * * * *

"I've already learned a lot, Uncle Marty," he said softly, brushing my lips with his.

"I guess you have," I whispered, pulling him tightly to me as our lips met in a passionate kiss, his body molding to mine.

It was going to be a new beginning for an old mountain boy and for a young mountain boy.

* * * * * * * * *