Date: Mon, 8 Feb 2010 13:26:01 -0500 From: mariner1931@cox.net Subject: Billy and Mason Billy & Mason Cousins By Lee Mariner Copyright 2007 This is a gay fantasy that is intended for ADULT readers only. If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this story, or should you not approve of this type of material, please leave. The author copyrights this work, and all Rights are reserved. It is not to be copied or reproduced without the author's specific written consent. It may not be posted or archived on any web site without the author's written consent. My friend, Dean has edited this story. I am grateful for his expertise. mariner1931@hotmail.com Preface This is a story about two cousins, Billy and Mason Cooper. Both boys were born during the depression. Billy on June 19th, 1929, and Mason on August 3rd, 1929. It was not unlike Victorian times when sex was rarely if ever spoken about, and fathers explained the relationship between the birds and the bees finalizing the admonition to keep our trousers buttoned. None of this ever fully explained the physical aspects of growing into manhood and surly not the reasons for the feelings generated by changing bodies. Sex was learned by masturbation in private or in whispered, dirty locker-room conversations Boys who became close friends, related or not, would verbally discuss their feelings and eventually share the physical exploration of the strange yet exciting feelings they were mutually experiencing as they grew older. The two families lived only a few blocks apart in the small town of Wyoming. Billy and Mason played together and went skinny-dipping in a small creek with other boys during the summer. During winter months they built snow forts, went sledding, and protected each other from school bullies. Their lives changed when Billy's father bought a small farm near Mt. Orab. Adolescent Years As the crow flies, Mount Orab was not that far but, for two boys without transportation, it was comparable to a trip to the moon. Rationing was mandatory during the war, leaving most consumer items and gasoline in short supply. The war effort consumed most of the usual civilian staples, such as meat, sugar, cigarettes, and even some canned goods. There were many automobiles that were not considered essential enough for gasoline rationing decals, and they were garaged and placed up on blocks, with their wheels removed - because of the lack of rubber tires. There was a small black market created by the sale of used tires, but it was low scale and the police overlooked it as long as there was no trouble. It was during these years when Billy and Mason started to feel the urges of advancing puberty; that mysterious period when hitherto ignored parts of their anatomies started to become more prevalent, and demanding. Some embarrassing questions and the equally embarrassing, but limited physical experiments, enhanced the mystery about what was only whispered about in locker rooms and bathrooms - SEX. It was never difficult to recognize when a boy was very likely walking through the school hallways with a hardon. He would be moving hurriedly with a hand in either his left or right pocket or he might be carrying his books attempting to cover his nether region. The most revealing was the furtive lack of eye contact or comment as he quickly passed by going in the direction of the boy's locker room. Some of the older guys would snicker and try to follow on the off chance they might see something that they could use to make the younger boys life even more miserable. Most of the time their efforts were fruitless since the embarrassed kid would be in one of the toilet stalls with the door securely locked, his knickers down around his ankles. Loud snickering, and ribald ridicule was unavoidable even though the stall door was locked. Billy's family moved away just before the start of the school year, when they were twelve years old. Billy's moving left Mason without a confidant to whom he could talk about the frustrations of their adolescent years; when his cock, seemingly without reason, would suddenly harden, or why, when sleeping his cock would harden, and it felt like his body was going to explode. After Billy left, most of what Mason learned about his feelings, and about sex was learned during circle-jerks with his school buddies, when they were skinny-dipping. Swimming naked and seeing each other's cock and balls was acceptable, and it was only natural to explore, and check to see who had the most impressive equipment. Billy would have been a leader of the group in length and girth with Mason a very close second. The one thing that Mason did not understand at all was his inner desire to be more intimate with one or two of the more attractive, and better endowed boys, those who excited him the most while he covertly watched them jerking off, laughing and comparing their cock and balls, making ribald comments about who had the largest. Mason's dreams were filled with visions of his interaction with these boys, and he would awaken breathing heavily, his cock and hand slimy with the product of his nocturnal masturbation. Although it was considered more fancy than fact, and therefore not really believed, a few of his buddies bragged about sticking their under developed, but in some cases, still substantial teenage cocks, into the pussies of one or two girls, that reportedly, liked the feeling of a boy's cock inside them. It was not long before we all understood that practice was called 'fucking.' Mason could not envision being in bed with a girl or having his cock inside of one. His thoughts were about boys, in particular about Billy, trying to imagine about how much he had changed; and he fantasized about what they could do together. He would find out. With the defeat of Germany in April of 1945, rationing eased some, until after the defeat of Japan in August; then it didn't take long before businesses were operating almost normally. The streetcars and buses started to run on more liberal schedules, and items not seen in years on the Grimes Family Store shelves, and many other stores started to return. The Christmas Season of 1945 heralded in a new era when the stores were fully decorated, and open late for the holidays. Shelves had not fully returned to normal but they were very close to pre-war conditions. After the holidays and nearing the completion of the school year, I asked my Dad if he thought Uncle Curt, his brother, might let me spend the summer on his farm. Dad told me it was all right with him, but as we didn't have a telephone, I should write my uncle a letter, asking if it would be okay. I was on pins and needles for over a week before the answer was received. And after that, I didn't think school would ever let out for summer vacation. It had been almost four years since I had seen Billy; so when the bus driver called out that Mount Orab was the next stop, I felt both giddy and excited at the expectation of seeing him again. I guess I felt like he was sort of an older brother. I only had two silly older sisters, who were always whispering and giggling about things they told me I was to young to know. They didn't know it, but what they assumed was not exactly true. Even though Billy had moved away, I understood what caused the tingling feelings in my groin, and why my cock would get hard when I would look at naked boys or think about them jerking off. I was gay, and sex with boys was more exciting to me than any thoughts of sex with girls. Why I felt that way didn't matter, I didn't really care. I enjoyed jerking off, and I enjoyed fantasizing about what it would be like in bed with a good-looking boy my own age. A boy like Billy who felt the same way that I did. There may have been other boys, who felt the same way that I did, but I kept my feelings to myself even though there was one or two boys whom I was pretty certain felt the same as me. Billy and I had talked about sex with girls, usually when we were skinny-dipping in the creek alone, or in either his or my basements. We both would start breathing heavier, rubbing our cocks faster, pretending that we weren't looking at each other to see who was going to pull his cock out first and start jerking off. Most of the time I lost. One of us usually had a dirty Jiggs or Popeye flip cartoon book in our pocket. We would jerk off side-by-side while reading the dirty words that made it seem like they were talking and fucking. We never touched each other, although I always wondered if Billy's cock felt like mine; hot and hard. Physically, Billy and I were almost alike, except he was a little heavier, and maybe an inch or two taller. Both of us had slim muscular builds, and we had brown hair and eyes. Neither one of us had been into sports other than playing sand lot baseball, tag football with the other kids, nor summer softball games, when we went on family picnics to Webster Woods outside of town. I had grown a little taller, almost five-foot, ten inches or so, and I weighed between one hundred forty and one hundred forty-five pounds, since we had last seen each other. My physique had improved somewhat from doing exercises in the school gym with instructions from my wrestling coach and a set of freestanding weights. When I reached Mt. Orab, I was not prepared for the strapping muscular young man who was standing behind Uncle Curt and anxiously trying to look into the bus windows. "God," I thought, a scintillating feeling of excitement washing over me as I attempted to look out the tinted windows of the Trailways bus. "That can't be Billy." Billy was wearing a dark blue sleeveless shirt and bib-overalls. His dark brown hair seemed to have thickened and was more messed up than I remembered. The breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his chest and bulging biceps were eye and mind-boggling. He was standing with his hands tucked behind the bib-straps of his overalls, the straps supporting the weight of his arms. I could see that he seemed to be as excited as I was by the way his head was moving back and forth from the windows to the door of the bus. I was standing behind a middle-aged, heavy-set woman; half crouched over trying to look over her and out the doorway while impatiently waiting for her to step off of the bus. When our eyes met, he grinned broadly, his brilliant white teeth flashing, and his eyes appearing to flash with excitement as our gaze held, unwavering for several seconds as he waved in my direction, unintentionally revealing the thick dark hair in his armpit. "Damn," I thought to myself, as I waved over the women's head. "I wonder if he has that much hair in his crotch." Billy punched Uncle Curt in the ribs, and I could see him talking to his Dad, and pointing toward me. Uncle Curt, the same dour individual that I remembered, waved in his usual lackluster way. He said something to Billy before glancing at me as he walked away. In all of the excitement of seeing Billy, I had the urge to put my foot in the broad ass of the lady in front of me, to help her off the bus. Exercising an unusual amount of restraint, I subdued the urge, and managed to squeeze by my, I am sure unintentional antagonist, when she finally stepped off the bus. She then, with a complete lack of concern for her fellow passengers, proceeded to block the bus doorway, looking over the sea of faces before her. Billy was attempting to push his way through the crowd of passengers and people milling around, talking excitedly, and blocking the bus doorway, the only exit out of the stifling interior of the vehicle. Within the crush of people, I temporarily lost visual contact with, Billy, until I heard him call out, "Mason, hey buddy, over this way." Jumping up to see over the heads of the people that surrounded me, I saw Billy moving to his right toward the end of bus, and I muscled my way as quickly as I could in his direction, receiving a few 'what's your fucking rush looks that could kill' as I made my way between them. We rushed into each other's arms, hugging tightly. His body felt like granite against mine. His arms were tight steel bands around my chest, and, his eyes, looking into mine, glistened with the same excitement that I felt. "Damn," he exclaimed. "It's good to see you, cuz, I've really missed you." "Me too, Billy," I gasped, hugging him as tightly as I could, and repressing a sudden urge to kiss his soft luscious lips only millimeters from mine. We held each other tightly for a few seconds, looking into the warm dark brown depths of each other's eyes, and I felt the rapid beating of his heart in unison with mine. When he inhaled, the granite hard muscles of his chest pressed against me, and my cock, entrapped in the pouch of my briefs, stirred threatening to grow harder. His eyes twinkled brightly almost impishly when we released each other; placing one hand on my shoulder with his other hand still on my ribs, he squeezed gently, winking as he softly, almost seductively said, "Me too." I couldn't help but wonder if, Billy had felt my cock stirring, and there was a hidden meaning to his words. It took a few minutes before the driver had the luggage unloaded from underneath the bus. While we waited, Billy avoided eye contact for a few minutes while he talked about the farm and asked about my family. There seemed to be an underlying nervousness in his demeanor as he spoke. I was still thinking about his somewhat cryptic remark when we stepped away from each other. I managed to answer a question of two, even asking some of my own when I spotted the two bags that I had brought, and I croaked, "There are my suitcases, Billy, the ones with the black belts around them." "Yeah, I see them," he replied quickly, grabbing one bag as I grabbed the other, and then hollering, "Come on, Mason, the old man is gonna start leaning on the horn if he has to wait to long." Billy was right about Uncle Curt. We had hardly reached the curb in front of the combination confectionery store-restaurant-bus, station, when we heard the screeching horn of his pickup truck, followed by his bellowing, "Come on boys, the stock ain't going to wait all night for us." Uncle Curt's pickup was an early vintage Chevrolet, designated as a farm vehicle. The bench seat had almost outlived its usefulness. But for a few feed sacks stretched across it, the springs were probably on the verge of protruding through the original fabric, if they hadn't already started to do so. Billy sat quietly on my right with his hard muscled thigh pressing against mine. I enjoyed the warm feeling of his leg against mine. If it was intentional, I was unsure about how or if I should respond especially when my Uncle was sitting next to me. I didn't dislike my uncle, but whenever I had seen him when I was younger, he was always grumpy, and he believed kids should not speak unless spoken to. To be on the safe side, I looked straight ahead and kept my mouth shut. Enjoying the erotic feeling of Billy's leg pressed against mine, I was daydreaming and hoping my uncle would not ask me anything. He did. "How's your, Dad, Mason?" "He's fine, Sir," I replied. "He told me to tell you he was asking about you." "I appreciate that," he responded not quite as grumpily as he normally spoke, surprising me when he continued, "You be sure and tell him the same for me when you see him." "Yes, Sir, I will," I said, turning my head to look at Billy when I felt his hand brush my hair as he put his arm across the seat back and cupped his hand around my shoulder. "It gets a little tight with three people," he said, grinning, the pinkish tip of his tongue visible as he spoke. I felt the telltale tingling in my groin, and I entwined my fingers, clasping my hands over the swelling of my cock, unable to do anything else being so tightly confined between Billy and Uncle Curt. Further conversation dropped off considerably as we drove over the chuckhole filled dirt roadways between barbed-wire fencing. It may have been my imagination that I felt Billy's hand squeeze my shoulder, but, imagination or not, it didn't help my composure. My cock was rock hard and being crammed in my briefs between my thighs didn't help. I was tightening and relaxing my stomach in an attempt to relieve the pressure when out of the blue, Billy asked, "Did you bring your swim trunks, Mason?" "Yeah," I replied. "Dad said you'all might have a swimming hole or a creek we could go swimming in." "Got both," Uncle Curt responded, curtly. "The beef cattle and milk cows use the pond mostly so you boys will be better off using the creek, it's cleaner." "And," Billy injected proudly. "I built a small pier so we can dive." "You did, Son, and you did a good job of it, but you better be thinking about adding some support underneath it and anchor it better into the bank," Uncle Curt said matter-of-factly. "That creek water can rush pretty fast when we get a heavy rain, and your pier might wind up in the Ohio River." "Maybe Mason can help me unless he doesn't want to," Billy said, squeezing me tightly to him as he volunteered my services by putting me on the spot when he subtly suggested that I would not want to help him. "I can do that, I guess," I said, thrilled at the feeling of his thickly muscled arm pulling us tightly together. "Sure can, Cuz, there's a lot we can do together this summer," Billy said, looking at me an winking as he flexed his arm, squeezing my shoulders to his hard muscled chest.