Date: Fri, 24 Sep 2010 21:17:42 -0400
From: Ike <oldtimer25@gmail.com>
Subject: Jimbo and JJ

Tales of Jimbo And JJ
Chapter One
Our First Time Together
by Ike

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I hate remembering just how green I was about the world when I left for
college in New York City in 1968. I had thought I was prepared and pretty
sophisticated thanks to my teachers. They had tried to prepare me for life
outside of our tiny town. Hell, I wasn't even ready for life outside of
Kansas. I had never been to anyplace with a population bigger than
ten-thousand people, and that had been one time when I was fifteen, to see
a specialist. We had to drive seventy-five miles to the nearest movie
theater, and did that only a few times a year. I hate to admit it, but I
was one naive hick when I left there.

I had grown up on a large, isolated farm a long distance outside of a very
small town in Kansas. I didn't even go to school in town, but the county
school in the county seat, fifty miles away. I was the youngest of six
children. I had one brother, who was almost twelve years older than me, and
four sisters: ten, nine, eight and seven years older than me. (Guess what
dad's hobby was! Mom`s too, I guess. It take`s two to make babies.)

The girls always treated me like a large dress up doll and to this day they
have trouble treating me as an adult.

The small graves of four miscarriages and stillbirths attest to the fact
that my brother lied to me when he called me "a fucking accident" during an
argument. I was just what my father told me I was when I went crying to
him: a long awaited miracle, born premature, but a tough survivor from
birth. But I was so small, my sisters really DID think I was a toy, and mom
was sick after I was born, so they had to take care of me a lot, turning
them into little mommies. It's no wonder every one of them were mothers by
the time they were nineteen.

Part of the problem has always been my nickname. I had been named after my
mother's older brother, James Robert Swenson, who had died at nineteen at
Pearl Harbor. I felt honored to inherit his name, but unfortunately, I also
inherited his fucking nickname. His family had originally called him "Jim
Bob", but Mom's baby sister mispronounced it: "Jimbo", which stuck. And I
was Jimbo from the day I was born. Everyone in school called me Jimbo, even
the teachers. I was over twenty before I was finally able to get people
other than my sister-in-law and my lover to call me James. And my lover
still calls me Jimbo in bed, which is fine with me.

Until I was six years old I shared a room with my brother William, who
always called me "squirt". For my part, he was my idol; I followed him
everywhere when he was home. Some of my earliest memories are of waking up
late at night and watching, fascinated, as my teenage brother looked at a
magazine and masturbated. I didn't know what it was he was doing, but his
groans and muttered curses sounded exciting to me.  I would rub myself
there, and it was pleasant, but I didn't get as excited as my brother. And
I never had those exciting endings

Right after high school, Will joined the Marines, just like our Dad had,
and our Granddad. I always looked forward to his rare leaves home from the
base in Korea where he was the supply sergeant. When he was home, I
insisted that he sleep in his old bed in our room, which I had childishly
refused to allow my mother to move to the spare room. I waited for each of
his trips home, eagerly waiting for his nightly shows when he thought I was
asleep.

Just after I turned ten, my youngest sister Debbie married her boyfriend,
the son of the owner of a store in town after a four week engagement. (Our
church requires the posting of banns for three Sundays before a wedding.)
During the reception in our house, one of the guest made a comment about a
"shotgun wedding". I piped up and said "I didn't see any guns. Where are
they?" and everyone laughed, except my sister and my new
brother-in-law. And the parents. My oldest brother-in-law whispered to me
that it was a "grown-up" word, the family way of telling me something was a
curse word not to be repeated in polite company. He made it clearer by
saying "You'll understand it when you're older. Just don't say it." That
meant it was something I wasn't old enough to understand, so I dropped the
subject.

With Debbie gone, I was alone with my parents, except for infrequent trips
home by Willie. I was a lonely kid.

Considered the class "brain", I was a scrawny kid, always the shortest boy
in class. That was an accomplishment, since the average adult male height
in our county was only 5'9", the result of generations of inbreeding. (I'm
related to almost everyone in town to some degree.) Dad was considered
pretty tall at 5'11", and had married an "outsider", the sister of his best
buddy in boot camp. Mom's family are tall Swedes, and Will takes after
them. My six foot tall MOTHER is the tallest woman in town, and taller than
most men! Will is 6'3", making him a giant in our town!

I had very few real friends growing up because our place was so far out of
town, and I always had to be home right after school to help with the
seemingly endless farm chores. I was always jealous of the "townies", who
were able to visit each other all the time and have fun. My dad was too
overwhelmed running a large farm with just a couple of farmhands and one
undersized, not very strong son to be very friendly, and mom was only
slightly more outgoing. She had no grown up in our town, so she had no
close local friends. Church on Sunday was the main extent of our social
life.

Growing up on a farm and watching our animals mate, I was aware of the
basic "facts of life", but no one had ever bothered explaining human
sexuality to me. Just before I was twelve, I woke up one morning with a
sticky mess all over my crotch in my pajamas. I screamed, positive that I
had some horrible disease. Will, home on leave at the time, came running
out of our bathroom, half of his face covered with shaving cream to see
what was wrong.

"There's something wrong with my `thing'," I bawled at him. "I'm gonna
die!" After inspecting me, he surprised me by laughing so hard he fell on
the bed. He reassured me that there was nothing wrong, and got Dad while I
washed and dressed. They sat down with me, explaining that I had had a "wet
dream".

Swearing me to secret, they took me to Dad's personal "workshop" in the
barn, and Will took out from a cunningly hidden drawer under Dad's work
table some well thumbed "girlie magazines" to show me what a naked woman
looked like. At dad's suggestion, Will began to give me a lecture: "You
know how different animals have their seasons when they're in heat, and
that's the only time they're interested in mating? Well, people are
different. They're ready to mate at anytime of the year. That`s called
`having sex`. While women tend to be less interested in sex, men are ALWAYS
in heat, so to speak, and always in need of sexual release. Even when the
woman isn`t interested. Which is why a guy sometimes has to work hard to
get his gal... willing."

Will tried to explain foreplay to me, when Dad, looking at my puzzled
expression, had a thought. "Will, if he's having wet dreams, that means
that Jimbo ain't learned to beat his meat yet".

Seeing the blank look on my face, Will commented, "Must be, Dad - I've
never seen him whacking off, and he even called his dick his `thing` this
morning!" Will and Dad then taught me the many, varied names men use for
the "private parts" of the human body. Will explained: "Many people, like
women or our pastor, think these terms are dirty words, so be careful who
you use those words with." He explained the main concept of "men relieving
their own sexual tension", and some of the more colorful terms used by guys
to talk about "the Great American Pastime".

Sudden realization: "Will? Late at night when you think I'm asleep, you`ve
been beating your meat? No wonder you look like you're having so much fun!"

Will blushed as Dad laughed at him. "Corrupting your little brother, huh,
jarhead?" Dad joked.

Will laughed: "You got it, Jimbo. Even an experienced jarhead fucker like
me has to beat off a load every now and then. Shit, all men have to do it
at times. Fuck, I caught Dad doing it out by the swimming hole when Mom was
off taking care of Aunt Clara the summer before my last year in high
school. I saw him doing it daily while mom was gone, the horny old
bastard. I had to hide in those tall bushes while he was going at it until
he left. Then I could go swimming, after I whacked off my own load, first."
My dad blushed and almost choked when he heard that, his hands forming
fists. He glared angrily at my Marine brother. For a second he looked like
he was ready to punch Will, then he laughed and shook my brother's
hand. After all, Will had kept that secret for a long time.

Will continued: "Jimbo, wet dreams are just as natural. In boot camp, I had
one every fucking night until I realized that all the other grunts were
beating off in the dark." Leafing through the dirty magazines, he noticed
an article: "Self Pleasure Techniques For Men". "Oh, shit, I remember
reading this article when I was just a little older than you, and it should
answer most of your question, squirt. Teach you a few tricks, too."

Both men explained to me that jerking off and wet dreams was normal for a
man who had no other sexual outlet, and that even married men whacked off
at times. That explained my FATHER having this sizable porn collection in
the barn. The image of my father jerking off by the swimming hole always
made me hard as soon as I got there from then on. Or would have, but I
quickly learned to whack off two loads before heading out there, since it
was near a road, and frequently I would find other boys and even grown men
skinny dipping there. I doubt if anyone in our county OWNED a bathing suit.

Dad said: "Maybe we should have had this talk with Jimbo earlier, Will, so
he wouldn't have been so confused this morning." Dad clapped me on the
shoulder and said: "Well, now that you know where they are, you can look at
my dirty books whenever you feel the need. At your age, that'll probably be
every hour on the hour!" I didn't understand their hearty laugh at that
comment, but I would get the joke soon enough.

Will teased me, "Now, you be careful, ya' hear, and don't get the pages all
stuck together! Dad and I use those books, too, squirt!" My dad grinned in
agreement, leafing through one, rubbing his crotch. The memory of the big,
sticky mess in my pajamas that morning made THAT comment clear. Knowing
that these grown men felt the occasional need to masturbate made me feel
very comfortable about my own new found need to jerk off. I'm one of the
few men I know who never felt any guilt about "self pleasure".

Dad gave me a lecture on birth control "the sign of a mature, responsible
man." I grinned because my DAD had just called me a MAN in front of my
Marine BROTHER, who nodded in agreement! A few minutes later, I found out
that women were pregnant for nine months and finally figuring out what a
"shotgun wedding" was.

"Dad, is that what they mean when they said that Debbie was having a
shotgun wedding, and I asked where the guns were, and everyone laughed?
Because her son Junior was born sex months after the wedding." My dad told
me I was smart, and warned me not to mention my realization to Debbie, or
ever tell Junior or the other kids the real date of their parents
wedding. My sister and brother-in-law celebrated an extra year of
anniversary each year, even though everyone in town knows the truth.

Dad excused me from my chores for the day. Will and I took the magazine
about "Self Pleasure Techniques" to our room. I read the entire article
about masturbatory techniques, "practicing" all afternoon. In between
loads, I practiced some of the curse words I had heard Will mutter when
pulling his pud, and got a real thrill the first time I said "Fuck" our
loud! By dinner I understood the comment about "every hour on the hour".

I've kept that magazine as a souvenir of the day I was accepted as a man,
and still have it at home, hidden in a box in a drawer, in memory of my
dad's hidden collection, which Will inherited. When he was looking for the
article for his sons, I photocopied the article for him. In triplicate. I
told why him I treasured the magazine, and he understood.

Bedtime on a farm is the same for just about everyone. That night, I took
out "my" magazine, beginning to jerk off for the fifth time that day. Will
said, "I'll give you some privacy, squirt", disappearing into the spare
bedroom. I heard him lock the door, but the walls were thin enough that I
knew he was masturbating at the same time I was. It took him about three
days to get used to the idea of jerking off in front of his "kid
brother". We lay on our beds, looking at different magazines. He turned and
winked at me when I began to groan and curse like him, jerking off at the
same rhythm he was using. That was the night I felt that Will accept me as
an equal; as a man, despite our big age difference.

The night before he went back to Korea, Will went out drinking with some of
his old high school buddies. I awoke very late, to the sounds of Will
stumbling into the room. The curtain was open, and the full moon gave him
plenty of light to rip of his clothes and strew them around the room. He
lay down on the bed naked, which was unusual for us. He lay in the
moonlight, running his hand over his smooth body as his dick rose, then
began to slowly beat his meat. As I watched, puzzled, he sucked on his
middle three fingers. One after another, he slowly inserted them into his
ass, moaning the whole time with obvious pleasure. Soon he had all three in
his hole, and was moving them around, cursing and groaning louder than
usual. Although I had shot two loads before going to sleep, watching him
and hearing him got me hard all over again. He was going slower than usual,
delaying his pleasure, then finally shot a particularly large and noisy
load, rolled over and went to sleep without even cleaning up.

When I heard him snoring, I fingered my ass as I jerked off, and I liked
the feeling. I shot my load and stayed hard, so I scooped up some of my
cum, wet a finger, slowly sliding it in my asshole. At first it burned and
hurt, but I felt that if Will could take it, so could I. So I kept at it,
and soon the pain was gone and I liked the feeling. No, I loved the
feeling, and knew that I would beat off like that from now on! I finger
fucked myself until I shot a second load, then fell asleep, too sated to
clean up and close my pajama bottoms.

Six months later I was an obsessive masturbator. My personal record was ten
times in one day. In the boy's room at school; in the barn looking at dad's
smut; in my room; once at the swimming hole while dressed since it was
cold, just to do it where the other men in my family had. I even once beat
off in the church basement during services! Whenever possible, I had a
finger or two in my ass. I had tried a third finger a few times, but it
hurt too much, and stuck to the excitement of playing with that magic spot
inside my ass with my two fingers as I slowly pounded my pud to an
explosive finish.

---

Ten months after that sticky morning, my brother Will was honorably
discharged from the Marines. He returned to the farm with a pregnant Korean
wife, the daughter of a farmer herself. When I tell this to city folk, they
assume this would have caused problems in our small "backward" "redneck"
community, but actually there were quite a few Asian women in the county,
war brides from China, Japan, Korea, and the South Seas for at least four
generations of our men who were called to serve their country. In fact, the
Spanish-American War resulted in a few brides from the Philippines, Cuba
and Puerto Rico, including my dad's grandmother, a Cuban with a lot of
Native American ancestry. A community of closely related farmers may not
have known the correct words or the scientific theory, but they were all
aware of the problems of inbreeding in a small genetic pool.  Men who left
for any length of time and had no commitment to girls back home were
encouraged to bring home a wife from outside, like dad had done.

Kim had been educated in a convent school run by English nuns, and spoke
excellent English, so she adjusted to life in our town better than most
foreign brides. I fell in love with my new sister-in-law immediately. Kim
was all of five feet tall, but sturdily built, and refused to call me
Jimbo, realizing the first time someone said it that I winced. She always
called me James, which made me her dedicated slave. Will thought I had a
crush on his wife and was amused. But I felt that I finally had a sister
who treated me like a human being and not a toy. That's why I adore her.

William and Kim moved into the empty bedroom next to my room. The walls of
that old house very thin, and the first day they were home, I discovered
that Will and Kim were both very verbal and noisy when fucking, which they
did at least twice a day, often more. Whenever I would see them wander
upstairs, I would rush to my room for the "radio show". I got quite an
education in the vocabulary, practices and techniques of sex, until Mom
heard them going at it one afternoon and decided that the newlyweds needed
their own home. The noises they made fucking had become my main jerk off
fantasy material, better than any of the dirty magazines in my Dad's
collection. I was very angry at my mother for depriving me of my live audio
porn show. But I couldn't very well tell her the truth, could I? She put my
sudden moodiness down to hormones. She was close.

My parents converted the old, disused bunkhouse into a four bedroom, three
bath "bungalow" for my brother and their expected brood. I was already an
uncle over a dozen times through my prolific sisters, but when Kim's first
son, William Samuel McArthur IV, was born on my thirteenth birthday, I had
an immediate bond with him, and Sami remains my favorite nephew. I admit
that I spoil him rotten!

- - -

By the time I got to high school, I had finally matured physically, but I
was still very short at 5'5". Reasonably strong from a lifetime of farm
work, I wasn't brawny like Will, but lean and wiry. I also proved to be
exceptionally bright. I was by far the best student in the county high
school, and it became obvious that I could qualify for a number of college
scholarships. My parents were eager for me to go to college. They had
always known that I wasn't happy on the farm, and wanted me to have the
best life possible.

Just as I started high school my parents hired my mother's orphaned cousin,
Jack, to be another farm hand, allowing me more time for my studying.

Jack was soon seriously courting a local twenty-two year old widow with two
sons. She had inherited the small farm next to ours from her older husband,
and was actually quite a beautiful young woman who had just started dating
after her mourning period ended. She had no problem dating a nineteen year
old stud built like Will. None at ALL! A month after their first date, all
her local suitors backed off. They were just waiting for Jack to be 21 (so
could legally sign contracts as a farm owner) to get married. That was the
ONLY thing that they were waiting for. Jack had the room next to mine, and
I was aware that he very rarely spent the night there. His sneaking in at
five became my alarm clock. In fact, after I teased him about it one
morning, he began to knock on my door as he came in to get me up for my
chores!

The family was growing fast. Given how often they hit the sheets, it was no
surprise that Kim began popping out a kid about once a year, and their boys
were ALL giants like Will. Their two girls took after Kim: short
China-dolls, but with blonde hair thanks to Kim's European
great-grandfather. By the time they were six, those boys could do chores
that had taxed me at twelve! I wasn't jealous, just proud of my big, strong
nephews. At one point, all four stars of the county high school foot ball
teems were my nephews for nine years in a row - just a changing roster as
they got older.

The summer before the start of my senior year of high school, Dad gave me
Mom's old station wagon when he replaced it. Will's young sons and Jack
relieved me of all but my early morning chores, so I could stay away from
home for hours every day. When he handed me the keys to the car, Dad told
me I now had an allowance for spending money and credit at the gas station,
and that I could stay out as late as I wanted on weekends. My dad winked at
me, handed me a big box of condoms, and told me "Go and sow some wild oats,
son, but don't get trapped! You don't want any guns at YOUR wedding, do
you?" We grinned at the memory of my childish questions. "And I don't want
you to getting married until you finish your education. So be careful,
son. But have fun!"

Suddenly mobile and independent, I was now able to make some male
friends. I learned to smoke, drink, play poker, and bullshit with other
guys my age. I was popular because I had an unending supply of girlie
magazines for them to borrow. (Will occasionally gave me additions to my
personal collection, which never looked quite new. I always wondered what
Kim had been up to that lead him to visit the next big town to buy
them. And knew better than to ask him.)

Actually, I let my new pals think they were corrupting me: for some reason
it gave them a kick, so I went along. I had already started to smoke at 16
in imitation of my idol, Will, and I always wondered how they all missed
the fact, since I did it outside the school. Not long after that Dad began
to let me have some beer with dinner when he, Will and the hands did, and
even a shot of whiskey now and then. So I could keep up with my new pals in
that area. In fact, I rapidly found out that I could drink even older guys
under the table. Will had been giving me "male-bonding bullshitting
lessons" since right after my "sticky morning". I knew more lies and dirty
storied than all of them put together.

And Will and dad had taught me to play poker when I was eleven, so I
hustled those guys a bit at first. They had it coming; it was obvious that
they had been planning on hustling the "green farm kid"! After I wiped them
all out a few times, I made them admit their plot, then confessed the
truth, and we all had a good laugh. I used my winnings to buy us beer for
the next few, more honest games.  I was eighteenth in October. While
driving me to the County seat to register for the draft, Dad told me that I
was now old enough to die for the country, so he didn't feel right in
imposing any more curfews on me, except if my schoolwork suffered, or my
morning chores. He handed me another large box of condoms saying "I may be
giving you permission to stay out all night if you want to, but I still
don't want you fucking up your chances by knocking up some idiot girl here
in town and missing college. Have fun but be fucking careful, son."

When we got home, Will took me to the side and asked with a smirk if I had
just gotten a box of condoms and a lecture. "I got the same thing when he
took me to register for the draft, James." It was the first time I could
remember him calling me anything but "squirt" or the rare "Jimbo". He gave
me a grin, and I noticed tears in his eyes. "Don't get used to it,
James. Dad and I know you hate the other names, but it's too late for us to
change. We're honoring you today by trying. I love you, baby brother, and
I`m proud of you. And if you knock up some idiot girl form town, I`ll knock
your block off after dad finishes beating the crap out of you. You need
more rubbers, ask me, dad, or Jack."

"Fat chance. The girls all know I'm leaving town. I get to first base, and
that's it."

"Hey, you never know, brother mine. Some girl might decide that a bright
college boy is a good catch, and decide to catch you. So always be
prepared."

I laughed. "Willy, the only rubbers I used from the FIRST box he gave me
when he gave me the car were ones I used to practice putting them on, or a
few I gave to buddies at school. I bet I never even open this box."

He gave me a bone crushing hug, then took me into his suddenly empty house
where he, dad and I proceeded to get blasted on boilermakers. All evening
they called me "James". Dad even gave me my first cigar, which I choked on
but mastered. In fact, I decided I liked them, and began to smoke them
around the house with him and Will, which for some reason made my mom
happy! That's when I finally found out I was never expected to see my first
birthday due to my poorly developed lungs as a preemie. Me puffing on a
stogie was a sign of victory to mom. A downright miracle.

That night, as they called me James and talked to me seriously, I actually
FELT like a man for the first time, equal in all ways with William and
dad. I had a serious talk with Will. I realized some habits would never
break, but some things showed a lock of respect for another man. The next
day I was back to Jimbo, but I had convinced Willy that it was time to call
his youngest son "squirt".  ****

As much as I was enjoying myself, I always felt a little like an outsider,
since these guys had been close through all of their puberty. I knew that a
few of them had been jerk off buddies when younger from comments they made,
but eighteen was too old to ask for my first circle-jerk. My new pals did
set me up with dates with girls for the first time. Although it was the
`60's, the "sexual revolution" had not made very many inroads into rural
Kansas. Most of the girls in my school were still "saving it for marriage."
In actuality, if a couple "had an understanding" that they were going to
get married after high school, like my sister Betty, the girl would often
"jump the gun" to make sure she kept her catch, before some other girl
"willing to put out" came along and took him away.

I became known as a good kisser, but everyone knew I would be leaving the
next year for college, so none of the girls considered me "real" boyfriend
material. They all knew I wasn't marrying a girl from tiny Jay, Kansas. In
spite of trying very hard to get past "making out", the closest I came to
having sex was a handjob from my date after the Senior Prom in my car, my
hand on top of her bra. I was fated to leave for college a virgin.

I was offered a number of good scholarships, finally deciding on one from
New York University. It covered all of my costs, and I really wanted to
live in New York. After graduation, I discovered that my folks and my
siblings had been saving their "egg money" for years for me to go to
college, so I would have money to live on in the big city. My brother,
brother-in-laws, my recently married cousin Jack and my dad helped me
totally rebuild my car that summer, and I proudly drove alone from Jay,
Kansas to New York, in a beat up old station wagon that was brand new under
the hood. Packed into my car was that entire new box of rubbers, as I
predicted. I gave the partially used one to my buddies to split up at my
going away party. Five of the guys had already left for the military with a
dozen each.

At the first motel where I stayed, I discovered packed into my suitcase
three boxes of cigars, and gold lighter, engraved: "To our MAN James, Dad
and Will". That had me bawling like a baby in ten seconds, and feeling
prouder than ever in my life. I also found a fat envelope full of porn I
had never seen before! Someone had paid attention to the magazines I held
onto the longest, since they almost all were the kind that turned me on the
most: two guys doing one girl. Two of them even had the men going on to
having sex together! I had never seen THAT before, and I wasn't too sure
whichever one had bought it had actually looked closely at the magazines,
since they were obviously new. I also found a bottle of bourbon, and took a
snort as I fired up a cigar and look at a random magazine, two fingers in
my horny ass. What a great adventure for a boy who had never been more than
a hundred miles from his home town!

---

I arrived in New York three days early, but was I allowed to move into my
dorm room right away. As I unpacked, I suddenly realized that I was going
to share this room with some strange guy. I was VERY acutely aware that I
was a short, gangling hick. It hadn't been too much of a handicap in a hick
town where had known everyone all my life, and was related to most of
them. Short, skinny guys were fairly common in my school, all of them my
cousins to some degree. My drive across country had shown me that there
were a lot of bigger, more powerfully built men in the world, and I was
already feeling intimidated by the speed and intensity of the New Yorkers I
now met. Where Will had been the freak back in Jay, and I was just a little
smaller than average, I saw guys a LOT bigger than Will daily on the drive,
and never came across one adult male less than four inches taller than me.

Another thing worried me: from the locker room school, I was aware that I
was not exactly blessed as a male. Again, a lot of my cousins were just as
modestly endowed, and the few times I saw Dad naked, his dick looked about
the not to much bigger than mine., although I never saw him hard The locker
room revealed that my body was different from my many cousins: although
like many of them I was a typically pale redhead, with very curly hair, I
was covered with bright red curly fur by the time I was sixteen. The guys
teased me until our gym teacher, Mr. Miller, told us that hairy young men
and men who got bald early had an excess of testosterone. (Mr. Miller was a
balding fur ball in his mid-thirties.) I was also the first guy in my class
who needed to shave every day. In fact, I had grown a mustache within three
weeks of graduation, which did make me look a little older than my age. As
a 5'5" redhead, I needed all the help I could get to look like an
adult. Once in Hope Spring, the town where we went for the movies, stranger
had petted me on the head and told me I was a cute kid. I was a high school
senior, and followed the bastard down the street cursing him out in English
and Korean. At least maturity had given me a deep bass voice.

Now my strapping blonde brother, on the other hand, really did take after
mom's Swedish family. At 6' 3" tall, his muscular, Marine-built body was
totally hairless, and he was hung well enough to make our stud stallion
jealous! I often wondered how he didn't damage Kim, until I realized that
the fourteen pound newborn Sami had come out of that same hole. And she
always sounded like she loved it!

I had never been embarrassed by my small dick back home, but I had noticed
a couple of guys sort of smirking at me at roadside rest stops. I became so
self conscious in by the second day of my cross-country drive, I began
using the shitter stalls to piss. The tall, muscular guys I saw strutting
around the campus and the dorm halls, acting like they owned the world and
ignoring me, just added to my growing feeling of inferiority. It wasn't
until the next day that I discovered the reason why all the men I saw on
campus were such magnificent examples of manhood: the only students on
campus at the time, other than a few early arrivers like me, were athletes
from teams there for early practice sessions before school began. They were
all jocks, and that the large number of the massive muscle men living in MY
dorm building were on the football team. It took all my willpower to not
get back in the car and return to Kansas.

My first evening in New York, I felt really sorry fro myself. I found a
store near my dorm and bought two six-packs of beer.  After showing THREE
forms of ID. I wanted to get drunk enough to forget for ONE night that I
would probably be miserable all year my new roommate once he arrived. I was
positive he's be a tall, muscular, hairy guy with a big dick who had fucked
dozens of girls. And talked about it all the time.

I got back to the dorm to discover that my roommate had arrived in my
absence. He was actually two inches shorter than me, but had a better
developed body. I couldn't miss it - he was stripped to his boxer shorts
and putting his stuff away in the dresser on his side of the room. He
twirled around when I entered, looking like frightened deer. Somehow, that
made me feel better.

"Hi, you must be my roommate. The office said you had arrived already." A
work rough hand reached out to me and I automatically shook it as his high,
nervous voice continued in his soft southern drawl. "My name is John Jones,
but my brothers always called me JJ."

"My name is James McArthur. Jim." JJ looked nervous as he lit a cigarette
and sprawled out on his bed. I looked at my new roommate. His compact,
fairly muscular body was more or less hairless; just a light dusting over
his arms, legs and chest, with a few longer tufts in the center of his
chest, and some fairly thick, silky hair under his arms. He had dirty
blonde hair, and I noticed that his eyes were a dark blue that was quite
unusual. He was clean shaven. I would later discover that he only had to
shave about once a week, and was totally unable to grow a decent mustache
or beard. He was quite handsome.

I tossed him a cold can of beer, and JJ relaxed.

JJ and I got to know each other while we shared cigarettes and beer and got
pleasantly buzzed. He was pleased that I was a fellow farm-boy. I found out
that he was the youngest of seven brothers from a small farm in
Mississippi, and he was also the first member of his family to go to
college. He also had a scholarship. I admitted that I had been worried that
I would have a room mate who was a city boy and would make fun of my
inexperience with life in the big city.

JJ said "Damn, I felt the same way. The only city slicker I ever met was a
young guy who got hired by our town to teach in the high school, and he was
totally surprised to discover that we weren't all married to our first
cousins, and that we all owned shoes." We found this hysterical in our
increasingly inebriated state.

To this day we get a charge out of convincing new people we meet that we're
hillbillies straight out of "Lil` Abner". I've learned to imitate JJ's
drawl perfectly.

On our third beer, JJ asked: "You're a country boy. You mean to tell me you
ain't got a nickname? Goober? Stringbean?"

I laughed, and was drunk enough to let it slip: "My family always called me
Jimbo, since my middle name is Robert." I kicked myself for letting the
first person I met know my hated nickname. "But I HATE that name. That's
why I'm introducing myself as Jim or James." I giggled. "It's better than
what my big brother used to call me, until I convinced him to call his
youngest son that nickname."

"What's that, Jim."

"Squirt." We cracked up. "I don't mind if another country boy calls me
Jimbo in the privacy of our room, but.."

"James it is in the outside world, Jimbo my best buddy!"

"Your best buddy? That happened awfully fast!" I teased.

"It's easy. You're my only buddy in New York, so you're my best buddy." We
laughed as he came and sat on my bed to be closer to the beer. "But I got a
feeling I won't meet another guy I like as much as I like you, or who will
understand me like you do. Not just the farm boy thing, but..."

"The being shrimps thing?" He nodded. "I'm short even back home, but just a
little. Here I feel like I belong in a freak show."  He agreed as he opened
two more beers. I told him about the men staring at me in toilets while
driving to New York. JJ had taken a bus. A half dozen people had wanted to
know where his parents were. His high tenor vice didn't help. He was happy
to hear I had a car. It made exploring New York easier: neither of us were
aware of the subway and buses yet.

As we got drunker, the talk turned to sex. JJ put his arm over my shoulder
and whispered: "You ever gotten laid, Jimbo? Me, I'm still a fuckin'
virgin. I never had any luck with the girls in town once they realized I
was headed to college."

"I`m a virgin, too!" I whispered back. "I did get a hand job after the
Senior Prom, but that was it. She wouldn't even let me touch her bare tit."
I told him about the boxes of rubbers, and showed him where I had put the
"draft board" box I had with me. "Feel free to take any you need." We both
laughed. After seeing those jocks strutting on campus, we both had the
feeling we'd graduate from college virgins. We admitted we'd be pleased if
we even got a few dates.

Soon, the beer was gone, and we got up to get ready for bed. I went to the
bathroom, and when I got back to our room, JJ was laying on his bed naked,
explaining that none of his brothers had ever worn anything to bed. I had
been about to change into my pajamas, but decided to go "natural", too. I
stripped off my briefs. I quickly studied JJ. His cock was about an inch
longer than mine, but mine was thicker. We were both uncut, but my foreskin
hung down over my cockhead, while his only covered half of it. I was
surprised to see that his pubic hair was a lighter blonde than his head,
and quite long; but it looked as silky as the rest of his hair. JJ was
examining me too, and I blushed when I realized we were both getting
hard. I quickly turned out the light and climbed into my bed.

Soon, I heard the sound of JJ beating his meat. It had been years since I
had had the opportunity to jerk off at the same time as Will, so I started
to do the same thing. We used the sound to coordinate our strokes, so we
were jerking at the same speed.

A voice came out of the dark: "Jimbo, you ever jerk off with a buddy?"

"Not really. My brother is a lot older than me, and before he got married,
we'd sometimes jerk off in the same room at the same time, but it always
seemed to embarrass him to jerk off with his kid brother. I always wanted a
buddy to jerk off with while we talked about sex, like one of my
cousins. He told me he had a buddy that they would jerk each other
off. Have you?"

"Well, like you, in the same room with my brothers, if that counts. Never
had any close friends. either." With a strained voice, my new best friend
whispered "I wonder what would happen if I came over there right now....??"

My cock gave a jump in my hand when I heard that. I could barely breath
when I answered in a strangled whisper, "Well, maybe you oughta' come over
and we'll find out."

We both stopped moving, and the room was silent, except for our heavy
breathing. Then JJ's bed creaked, and his shadowed form crossed to my
bed. I felt like it took him about seven weeks to walk those six feet. I
scooted over up against the wall to make room for him. He laid down next to
me, and we just stayed still. I smelled the musk of his sweat, and I felt
like I was going to shoot my load from just the scent of him, and his
smooth, muscular right arm against my sinewy, furry left one. We reached
for our own cocks, and we discovered that he was a righty and I was a
lefty. As we jerked ourselves, our arms kept hitting each other.

We stopped and were silent for a minute. In a strained voice, he said
"Maybe we should do like your cousin..." Suddenly, I felt his strong hand
wrap around my dick, and I quickly put my hand on his cock. We slowly
jerked each other for a few minutes, both moaning lightly. "I never seen
such a hairy guy before, Jimbo. Can I feel it?"

"Sure, I guess so." His other hand reached over and lightly ran over my
chest, making me shiver with excitement. His fingernail accidentally nicked
my erect nipple, and I gasped, afraid I was going to lose my load.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, worried.

"No, it was really something right - you just did this." I ran my hand over
the sparse hair of his chest until I found his hard nipple. I flicked it
with my nail.

JJ moaned "Oh, fuck!" Suddenly bold, I caught his nipple between my fingers
and pinched it lightly, causing JJ to start cursing again. He reached over
and did the same, and I thought I would shoot right there. We let go of
each other's cocks at the same second, and turned to each other to explore
our bodies with our hands. I loved the feel of his hands on my fur, and the
feel of his smoother skin on my hands. Without thinking, I leaned forward
and kissed him on the lips. To my surprise, he grabbed my head and kissed
me back, and soon our tongues were dueling. I wrapped my arms around his
body and pulled him closer, trapping our cocks between us and grinding my
hips into his as we kissed and ran our hands over each others backs and
sides.

"Oh, fuck - I'm gonna cum, buddy!" JJ hissed, and I felt his hot load
shooting on my cock. That was all it took, and I shot my own load on
him. We gripped each other tightly as we flowed through our mutual orgasm,
still kissing as our hips continued to grind. Finally, we relaxed, but
neither of us let go from the hug.

"Jimbo, did you ever make it with a guy like that before?"

"No. I never even imagined it! But I really like what we're doing, JJ. How
about you, buddy? Ever made out with a guy?"

JJ was silent for a few minutes. "No, but this guy at school kept offering
to suck my dick all last year. I gotta admit that I was VERY tempted, but I
was afraid."

"There was this older guy back in town who always offered to blow me, but
he was kinda creepy." I responded. "But also tempted."

We lay there, playing with each other's chest as we continued to kiss. JJ
leaned down and began to suck my nipple, which made my limp cock jump. I
pushed him back and did the same to him, and soon we were licking each
other's bodies and chewing on each other's nipples. We were soon hard and
horny again, but neither of us moved below the belly button. Then JJ
shifted in the bed, and I felt his hot breath on my balls, and his cock hit
my lips.

Without a word, we licked the tip of each other's cockhead at the same
time, groaning. As if reading each other's minds, we each took a cock head
into our mouth, and licked it all over. Slowly, we took more cock in our
mouths, and I was surprised to find my nose hitting JJ's silky pubic bush
just as his nose hit the soft fur of mine.

We began to suck cock as if we had always done it. I grabbed JJ's ass to
pull him deeper into my mouth, and he gave at a loud moan, letting go of my
dick. As I kept sucking, he rolled over on his back, and I worked my way
between his legs. His hands gently brushed my short hair, and his hips
began to push his cock in and out of my mouth. I loved how my mouth could
take all of his cock down to his extremely curly pubic hairs! I put my
hands on his hands to let him know I liked the way he was holding my head,
and he tightened his grip, guiding my head up and down to meet his
thrusting hips.

My hand brushed against his ball sack, and JJ yelled, "Oh, fuck, YEAH!
That`s the stuff, baby!" so loud I was sure they could hear him in
Washington Square. I began to play with his hairless balls as I sucked his
cock, and he went wild.

Soon, he pulled me off of his cock, gasping "Don't wanna cum yet, Jimbo,
and you are getting me so fucking hot! I never been this horny before!
Stand up, roomie, I want to suck some more on your cute cock." I scrambled
to my feet, and my new friend got on his knees, swallowing my cock
whole. He grabbed my hands and put them on the side of his head, so I began
to pull his head back and forth as my hips screwed his mouth. He began to
play with my hairy balls, groaning in pleasure as he played with my hairy
orbs. It was very nice, but I knew what I really wanted.

"JJ, sometimes my brother... he would.... he'd wet his fingers in his mouth
and slowly put them in..."

JJ stopped and looked up at me, genuinely curious. "Where?"

I gulped. "In his asshole. While he beat his meat. Nice and slow until he
shot a REALLY big load of jism. Cursing his head off the hole time in
excitement."


"Do you..?"

"Uh, I've been doing it ever since I first saw Will do it. It hurt at
first, but then it felt really hot and nice, and I do it to myself a few
times a week." Actually, it was almost every time I masturbated, but I
wasn't sure how JJ would take that information.

JJ turned the light on my nightstand on, and squatted behind me, making me
bend over. He spread my ass cheeks. "Wow, look at that jungle of red hair
on your ass. But the hole itself has only a few hairs. What does my ass
look like?"

He came in front of me and bent over. I spread his firm cheeks. "You have
practically no hair except in the crack, and not one hair around the
hole. Wow, that's what a man's asshole looks like, huh? Kinda nice."

JJ went back behind me and looked again. "Yeah, it does look nice." I felt
something wet prod my asshole - JJ's finger. He pushed and I sighed,
relaxing to let his finger in. He frigged it back and forth a few times as
I moaned. "Wow, look at the way it makes your cock jump and drool! You
really dig this, huh, buddy?"

I moaned loudly. "Oh, damn, yeah, I fucking love it. It's a million times
better when someone you like does it instead of doing it to myself!" JJ
slowly withdrew his finger, and turned me around, sucking my cock into his
hot mouth. He reached between my spread legs and put his finger back
in. "Damn, put another in, buddy!" Two was my limit, something I usually
did only when I was super horny. His two fingers moved around and hit the
magic spot inside my ass that I had discovered when I was about
thirteen. "Holy fuck, YEAH! You got the spot! Do that more right there,
buddy!" I yelled. JJ continued to finger my ass while sucking my cock.

"Get another finger in there, JJ. I never had three before, but you have me
so fucking hot!" A third finger worked in, and when he next jiggled my
assnut, I gave a loud roar. "I'm gonna fucking cum, JJ!" I expected him to
pull off my cock, but instead he bobbed his mouth on my sensitive dong
faster, and I shot out four strong bursts of cum, which he swallowed. He
slowly withdrew his fingers as he licked my cock clean.

I pushed him back on the bed and fell between his legs. I started to lick
his hairless balls, and now it was JJ's turn to bellow out curses. After a
few minutes, he grabbed my head and forced my mouth back to his drooling
dick. "Jimbo, I wanna try it. Put a finger in me." I took a finger and put
it in my mouth with his cock, getting precum and saliva all over it. JJ put
his heels on the bed and spread his legs, and I slowly pushed my finger
into his tight hole.

At first he resisted, but then he relaxed suddenly and my whole finger slid
in. I must of hit his assnut after a few seconds of finger fucking my
buddy, because he bellowed "Get ready, pal. I'm gonna fucking blow
my... UGH!" Burst after burst of sweet and salty hot fluid filled my
mouth. I found I liked the taste, and I savored it on my tongue before
swallowing. My new found lover fed me at least six shots of his manseed
before he groaned, then told me "Wow, that was fucking the best load I've
ever shot, but my ass just became so sensitive. Could you..?" Before he
finished the sentence my finger slid out. I licked the remains of his load
off of his cock and his pubic hair, where some that I had missed had
leaked.

I climbed onto the bed and we hugged, kissing again. I felt like a cliche
as I reached for my cigarettes, lit two at one time in my mouth, then put
one into JJ's mouth. We giggled at that as we cuddled and smoked in
silence. As I finished my smoke, I looked at JJ seriously, and said "I
liked that and want to do it again."

"Me, too, pal."

"I guess that make us cocksuckers, huh?"

JJ shrugged. "So what. No one has to know what the two of us do alone in
our room." I agreed as I turned out the light. After a long, passionate
kiss which expressed our feelings better than words, we cuddled together
and slept in the same bed.

As we did through all four years of college.

****

We still sleep cuddled together today, just in a much bigger bed. Although
we`ve tried a few other men together, it`s always been JJ & Jimbo against
the world. Together we can face anything. And have.


Copyright 2007, revised 2010 and on, "Ike"

All Rights Reserved World Wide. Reproduction in whole or in part in any
form or medium without express written permission is prohibited.

This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior
consent from the author, who can be reached at oldtimer25@Gmail.com