Date: Sun, 02 Nov 2003 13:47:06 +1100
From: Alan <arid48@hotmail.com>
Subject: Australian Bush Story - Chapter 1

Warning, warning.

This story is about the most pure form of love there is, that is the love
between a boy and a man. As love often starts with sex, it also contains
that as well. But love and sex between a boy and a man is beautiful, and
very intense. The most pure form of love there is. However it's also illegal
in some places. So as your mother will tell you, if you play with it for too
long you'll go blind, and if sex between boys and men is illegal in your
place, don't read on. As for those of you that want to know about this most
beautiful form of love there is, sit back, relax and enjoy this tale. It's
my first attempt at story writing, and has not been proof read, so enjoy the
story, and don't pick the grammar to pieces. 

Your constructive comments are welcome. As I get stacks of junk mail, mark
the subject with something recognisable. If you don't like it, I don't want
to hear about it. The story isn't true, but Roger does exist, but never like
this. However he does look like it & I wish he was like this. :-) 

Alan         arid48@hotmail.com


Chapter 1

It wasn't without regret that I accepted my families request to return to
our desert farm. After 26 years of being away for university then work and
finally a marriage break up I needed to get out of Sydney for sometime.
Obviously my country roots were kicking in and I was lonely for some red
dirt. 

The family farm was north of Bourke, some minutes drive from a small but
friendly town, where if you minded your own business you were pretty much
left to yourself. My major fear was boredom and lack of friendship. But
after Sydney I was looking forward to the change.

Life on the farm was as it was during my childhood days, which are filled
with memories of long warm days lazing around the property. Mum and Dad had
left me while they went off on their retirement trek around the world. They
expected to be at least one year to see everything they wanted to see and
headed off in style. 

While working in the paddocks where my major concern was fixing the fences I
spent long hours working alone in the warm weather. Our nearest neighbour
was ten minutes drive, away from town, we were really lucky to be the
closest property to town. "Town" consisted of a General Store, a Hotel,
which was the only source of entertainment within 200 kms radius and a car
repair station which sold petrol at ridiculous prices and charged the
tourists even more for any repairs they needed as they passed through our
town.

There was a school of five or six kids where I was educated until I left for
High School in Dubbo. But it was capable of further education if required.
The further outlying properties used "School of The Air", but this wasn't an
option for us as we were too close to town. After High School I never really
returned except for the holidays, I was lucky that Mum and Dad could afford
to send me to Uni. in Sydney. 

It was good back at the farm, and being alone was even better, it enabled me
to work without worrying what I was dressed in, and allowed me to swim naked
in one of our many dams or even the pool out the back of the house.

I was pretty much left alone by the towns' people, even they knew almost my
every move since leaving. It was kind of eerie to have people you didn't
really know, having a lot to say to you about your past, but you not knowing
theirs. 

Every Friday I went to town, not more frequent, as I was still enjoying the
isolation, to get my meager requirements for the week. The General Store was
the sole place of my visit, even though I enjoyed a drink, there was plenty
of time to catch up with Dads old mates who easily called me the "nephew",
but weren't really. 

It was during one of these trips that I met Roger, he was the oldest son of
Beth and Steve Brown who owned the store. I sort of remember mum telling me
of Roger's birth, but it wasn't high on my list of things. I was stacking my
purchases into my box, when he walked into the shop. All I can recall was
his absolute blonde hair, but for a young kid this wasn't that surprising.

I was in the shop getting my supplies from Mrs B when Roger walked in. I
didn't realise it at the time but my life was about to change, big time.

He called out "Hi Mum".

"Hi Roger" she replied, "Home early today?".

"Yeah, we got off early as old Mrs Lutz wasn't feeling the best",

"Roger, have you met Simon? He's Betty and Paul's kid, and he's tending to
their place while they are on hols".

"Hi Simon" Roger said as he spun around and noticed me for the first time,
he was smiling a good country welcome, that knocked me for a six.

"Hi, Roger" I had trouble getting past my dry throat. God he was stunning,
blonde hair, tanned well exercised body, standing there in his school sports
uniform that he sort of had on. His nylon shorts were almost see through,
no, I turned to get the sun behind them, they were see through. My body
warmed, was I blushing? Sure felt like it.

Roger was still looking at me, since we made eye contact neither of us had
turned away. He was still smiling, although I was staring by now. I forced a
smile. Roger warmed and moved closer. He was unbelievable. I had no idea of
his age, so it was with caution that I progressed. 

"Had a good day at the old school?" I asked. 

"It was OK, better now it's over and the weekends here" 

"Always" was about all I could think of. I couldn't get over the effect he
was having on me, I felt like the first time I had every seen anyone who was
attractive, if fact compared to Roger was anyone attractive? I was shaking,
dry throat, it hit me like a bomb.

His Mum broke the silence, "Simon, if there's nothing else you need I'll let
Roger finish your order while I go and see what Steve is up to out back."

"That's OK Mrs B" I replied, "I've got it all now". I think it was all I
needed, but couldn't recall at the moment.

Roger fell right into the shopkeeper mode, adding up my goods. I just kept
staring, couldn't get my eyes off him. He looked up every now and again and
smiled at me, not just any smile, a real come inside and enjoy smile. It was
electric. 

"What do you do around here for kicks?" I asked, after all I had to ask
something.

"On Saturday morning I play Soccer, that's heaps cool, and Sundays I deliver
the papers"

I've never gone out to buy a paper before, although I could hear the
paperboys whistle for a good half hour on Sundays. I knew I would be on
Sunday. 

"Saturday arvo I just hang around the shop, Mum pays me half rates if I'm
here just to help out during the busy periods". His gauze was right through
me. "What do you do on the farm?".

"I just have to look after the fences make sure they are OK, when it
shearing time Dad's arranged the Shearer's come in, so not a lot for me to
do there."

"I've always wanted to see a shed in full swing, when it's on can I come
over?"

"Sure" I almost added "you can come over any time" but didn't want to be too
forward.

We just stood there like a couple of stunned mullets for quite a while. Our
eyes were locked. A smile never left his face, or mine, I think! Some one
else walked into the shop and broke the scene. It was about time, my dick
was starting to swell and I didn't want to be obvious. 

"I'll see you later" I said to Roger, 

"Any time" he replied.

I grabbed my box and loaded it into my Ute. Later at home, my thoughts
returned to Roger, it wasn't true I kept saying to myself. It wasn't like
that. He didn't give me those signals. But it sure felt like he did, I went
hunting through our old photos, I knew Mum would have some of Roger in
hospital, when he was born, just typical of Mum. I was getting frantic. When
was he born? How old was he? Why did I want to know this? I knew why, but
didn't want to believe it.

Finally I struck gold, a photo clearly marked "Roger Brown" six weeks, the
date, sixteen years ago. How come when I was away for only twenty six years
I didn't know of him? Yes, he would have only been ten when I returned last
time six years ago. That's why. Even though at 28 I sort of had admitted
what my mind was up to, it wouldn't have noticed a ten year old, no matter
how cute he was. Some frantic searching though the photos showed some of
Roger at about 2 year intervals, at 10 he was a mind blower, but I still
couldn't recall thinking that at the time. Mores the pity for me. But at 10
still forbidden fruit.

At sixteen he was beyond belief. And even though a bit young, falls within
my own standards. 

I went to sleep that night still thinking of Roger even after many tugs on
my never satisfied organ. Saturday afternoon came around and my thoughts of
him had not subsided. It didn't take me long to realise I needed something
from the shop, anything! So off into town I headed. Was I too early? Was he
still at Soccer? All these things were going round and round in my mind. I
was shaking as I pulled up in front of the store. 

Walking inside Mrs B blurts out loud "Hi Simon, fancy seeing you here today,
it's not Friday again is it?".

"No Mrs B, just forgot a few things" was my feeble reply. 

"OK, I'm a bit busy right now, I'll get Roger to look after you". Bull's-eye
I thought. "Roger" she calls out "your friend Simon is here, can you help
him?"

"He'll be out in a sec" she says to me, but I didn't hear any reply. So I
stand around wondering what in the hell she meant by 'your friend Simon is
here', was it that obvious? 

Roger walks through the door, time slows, yellow tank top on and nylon white
footy shorts. Nothing else. I'm mermorised, my eyes are nearly falling out
of their sockets. Can it be true? Can anyone look so sexy? What a stunner. I
see no obvious signs of undies under those see through shorts, but the light
isn't fantastic inside the store. I realise I'm staring, bur Roger is just
standing there frozen as well. Is he waiting for me to say something? I
guess so.

"G'day Roger" I mutter.

"Hi Simon"

"How was your game today?"

"We won, the other team wasn't good and it was too easy"

Silence again. What the hell was I supposed to say? I had lockjaw. "Can I
have some potatoes?". Potatoes, I don't need potatoes! But hey, when you
stuck any excuse will do. 

We finish the transaction. So now I'm asking myself what's next? I don't
want this to finish. "Can I have an ice cream? It's a bit warm in here".

"Sure, make a pick". I select anything. 

"I'll just eat this outside" I announce, to anyone. I felt like a fool, I
take the ice cream, throw my spuds in the back of the Ute, and sit on the
grass to eat the ice cream. I was still shaking. What has come over me? Why
would I think Roger is even gay, let alone interested in someone like me?
It's just not possible. He's just too nice and too good looking. Why is he
even in such a hole as this place?

The shop door opens, out walks Roger also with an ice cream. "Can I join
you?" he asks! 

-0-0-

I hope you liked the story thus far. Chapter 2 is ready if you do. 

Constructive comments are welcome. If you don't like it I don't want to hear
about it. arid48@hotmail.com. Mark to subject so I know it's not junk mail.

Alan