Date: Fri, 13 Jul 2007 14:07:06 -0700 (PDT) From: SauronTheDarkLord Subject: Beginnings VII Thanks to those of you who have emailed me with comments regarding the first 6 episodes. I really appreciate the feedback. My day with Vic had left me in an emotional state unlike anything I had ever experienced. Everything about him just made me crazy. And this was a very scary proposition in 1966. We probably had at least a crush slash puppy love thing going. Was it based on our fondness for each others genitalia? Primarily. But there was an extra dimension to it that made me want to be with Vic long after I had taken my dick out of his ass. I didn't have to confront those issues for awhile. As Vic himself reminded me, we lived miles apart -- a distance not easily traversed on foot. I was in high school, he was in grade school. The only times we ever saw each other even briefly were when the high school was going to lunch and the grade school was leaving. It had an effect on my ongoing relationship with Sam, to his benefit, ironically. My frustration with not being able to get together with Vic was expressed in an elevation of the urgency of my sex with Sam. I could not get enough of Sam's cock. I wanted him in my ass. I wanted him in my mouth. Reciprocity was not an issue. Because actually I wanted Vic. Eventually I got another opportunity. Every summer our town, and all the surrounding towns had a festival or homecoming or similar gathering which consisted of a midway of some sort, a Saturday parade, and a beer tent. As a member of the marching band I was stuck with the parade, and I was as yet too young to drink legally. The main attraction was the midway. Now we are not exactly talking Six Flags here. Ferris Wheel, Octopus, corn dog stand, cotton candy, lemon shake ups, and plenty of chances to win a stuffed animal if you could knock over a target that usually had something with the mass of a steel I-beam in its base. But it was 1966 in a town with a triple digit population. It was Mardi Gras. So overpoweringly compelling an attraction was this that even the local farmers brought their families into town. Including the Vic Alexander family. I was nursing a lemon shake up with some football teammates when I saw Vic's family car unload. Not knowing how to make eye contact with Vic without attracting the attention of the other jocks, I eyed the nearest concession stand. "Guys, I'm gonna go get another corn dog. See ya in a bit." As I walked toward the food -- the term is used loosely -- stand, I crossed the paths of Vic and his family. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander. Hi, Laura. Hi, Vic." "Hi, Stu," replied the family patriarch. "Done any more baling recently?" "Some. Walked some beans, too." "Well, we're probably gonna have a second cut one of these days. Give you a call?" "That would be great." "What are you up to tonight?" "Just feeding my face right now. Maybe listen to the band later." Vic jumped in. "Dad, is it o.k. if I go with Stu and get some food?" "Stu, you mind Vic tagging along?" If you only knew, Mr. A. "Nah, not at all. Besides, if I say no he'll bounce me off the rack next time he gets the chance." It seemed like it took Vic's family a year to get out of earshot. Finally. "Damn I missed you, Vic." "You too, Stu." "You want to try to figure out a way to get together?" "Tonight?" "I guess. I don't know when we'll get the next chance." "O.K. Where?" He would have to ask that question. We could have gone to my house, except my mom and dad just liked to spend the evening sitting in lawn chairs in the front yard. I don't think I could have given them a really convincing reason why I was taking a grade school student up to my room. The only alternative that suggested itself was the lumber yard. Now this was a small town, and security was not exactly an issue. Doors were sometimes locked when you went on vacation, sometimes not. Otherwise never. So the lumberyard was not surrounded by an 8 foot barbed-wire topped cyclone fence. It was open and there were about 6 open sheds that held the various types of inventory. The owners figured the neighbors would probably notice someone running down the street carrying a 12 foot length of 2" by 6". So the lumber yard it was. "Lumber yard" I told him. "I am going to walk over in about 5 minutes. You need to try to get away and get over there later." "What will I tell my folks?" "Just see if they will let you meet them later and tell them you want to just run around for awhile." "What if they say "no"? I leaned over and whispered my reply. "Then I will have to suck your cock some other time." He almost blushed. "You mean I can't fuck you?" he teased. "You're gonna have to pick tonight. We won't have time for both." I casually walked away from the corn dog stand, my mustard-drenched trophy in one hand, the remains of my lemon shake up in the other. From the park it was just a couple blocks to the railroad tracks, and just down a block to the lumberyard. I walked by the first open building, and then turned into the second one and waited. And waited. While it was probably no more than ten minutes, it seemed like a week. I saw Vic emerge from the park and cross the tracks. As he approached the lumber yard, he slowed and started to look a little uncertain. "Over here" I said, in my best stage whisper. Vic practically ran the last few steps. We went back into the back of the building, behind the largest stack of lumber we could find. We didn't say a word at first. It would have been impossible to understand anyway since we each had our tongues halfway down the others throats. We ground our erect, denim-covered cocks together. Damn it had been a long time. It was great, but I hadn't lured Vic away from his family for kissing. I dropped to my knees in front of him and practically ripped his cock out of his pants. "Yes" he said,"please suck my cock." Little guy was picking up some of my verbal tendencies, but he did say please. Request granted. It was like the day we spent alone together at his farm. I wasn't trying to give him a world-class blow job, or what my best approximation might have been. It was more like a face-fucking. He was so delicious I can't describe it. He was a little bigger than last time, I thought, and a few more pubes. But still the same well-cut head, and lovely balls. Corn dogs were no match for Vic's tube steak. I could tell he was getting ready to cum, but this time I got a very pleasant surprise. As Vic stifled a grunt while he came, I felt a small quantity of liquid enter my mouth. I had a taste of Vic's juice, and now lemon shake ups had followed corn dogs into obsolescence. "How long have you been doing that?" "Two, maybe three weeks now. You like I bet." "I love it." He smiled and nearly blushed again. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "What do you want me to do?" I replied. The old deflection technique. "I'd like you to fuck me, but I don't have any Vaseline. It might not go in." "We can try something different," I suggested. "What?" Vic asked. "Well, first you're gonna have to suck my cock and be as sloppy as you can." Talk about your basic no-lose situation. Vic took to his assignment with enthusiasm. After a couple of minutes I had to stop him, before he had me too far gone to do what we both wanted. "O.K. Enough. Now turn around." I bent Vic over a pile of 4 by 4's, and pulled his jeans down to his ankles. I spread his cheeks as far as I could and then took me tongue from one end of his crack to the other. "You're licking my ass." "You're right. I need a wet as for my wet cock." I wish it had been just a little lighter. I expect that the sight of his cute puckered asshole, with his balls hanging just below, would have been just exquisite. However, I was not thinking of visual stimuli at that point. While I could have tongued his ass for an hour, and wanted more, time was of the essence. I put the head of my dick in his ass, and then eased the rest in. It was a little easier than our first fuck, but not quite as smooth as when we screwed in the shower. But I was in. Again a feeling of weirdness kind of set in. While I really wanted to fuck Vic into next week, I also just wanted to stay in him and hold him. For about a decade or so. "Vic..." "I know...just fuck me, o.k." Even though he didn't say please this time, I still obliged. Knowing that I wasn't going to be able to savor my time with him, I decided to finish before we were interrupted. While I didn't fuck him as violently as I had previously, I did take long strokes so I could feel his ass over every inch of my dick. I could feel his hips moving back and forth in a sort of counterstroke, to help me drive deeper into his ass every time. As long as I had waited for Vic, my self control was limited. I had probably only fucked him for maybe two minutes, maybe three, maybe one, I don't know, and then I unloaded in his ass. "We have to go back soon, don't we?" Vic asked. "'Fraid so," I replied. "'Kay. One more kiss, though?" Again, he didn't say please. Again, I didn't care. Our lips met more softly this time, just brushing together at first, our tongueplay more restrained, but no less passionate. "Let's go" I said. "You start back, and I'll follow you." Vic didn't say anything, but looked over his should with a somewhat forlorn smile and headed back to the park. Damn, damn, damn, damn. It would have been so great to just walk the midway with Vic, holding hands, riding rides, sharing more than just a quick fuck in the lumber yard. It would also have got me thrown out of the house and I could have spent the next few years of my life living on the street in Peoria or something. So a quick fuck in the lumber yard was going to have to suffice. I finally started the not extremely long walk back to the park. The guys I had been hanging out with earlier had left, so I figured one more corn dog -- might as well get an early start on breakfast -- and then walk across the street and go to bed. I had not taken more than a few steps toward the concession area when I heard someone yell "Stu." The source of the yell was my friend Terry. "Terry, what the hell you doin' here by yourself?" "Meaning what?" he asked. "Meaning usually you have a girl with you. Phone not working?" "Phone works fine. I was actually looking for you." "Your efforts have been crowned with success." "So they have. But it took awhile to find you. Then I saw Vic walk in by himself. And then you showed up a little later." "A lot of people walking around tonight, if you've noticed." "Hey, I'm not trying to give you a hard time. We both know Vic is a lot of fun." That was true enough. My first time with Vic was in a three way with him and Terry, which was also the day I lost my cherry, ass-fucking wise. "And I have you to thank for that," I admitted. "But anyway, you were looking for me, and you found me." "Yeah." He paused a bit. "My mom and dad have gone to a church thing or something, and my sister has a date. You wanna go out to my house?" I didn't need to ask for what purpose. "I'll tell my folks we're just gonna ride around or something. I don't want them looking for me and I'm not in the park." Since, like most July nights, it wasn't a school night, my parents were fine with me riding around with Terry. As one of the school's more prominent athletes most of the adults in town knew who he was, and I think my mom and dad probably thought it would boost their semi-nerdy son's status to be in his social circle. They probably were right, that is, as long as no one knew all the details. We hopped in Terry's '62 Chevy, at least I think it was a '62. I do know that it was one of the ugliest cars Detroit ever produced. But I was not concerned with its appearance as long as it took us the 3 or 4 miles to Terry's farm. We made it to Terry's in about 10 minutes, not quite interstate speed, but you don't get a lot of sections of interstate highway where the surface is gravel either. Terry had to give me directions once we got in the house. "My room is upstairs, second door on the right." Difficult directions to screw up, and I was successful in reaching my destination. Terry's room was somewhat different from Sam's, where I spend most of my suck/fuck time. Where Sam's was a large corner bedroom, with a large brass bed resting on a hardwood floor, Terry's was much smaller. A queen-sized bed took up much of the room, and there was barely enough room to get by on either side. We stood at the foot of the bed to undress. Terry pulled his t-shirt off over his head, showing off his very-well developed musculature, which quite frankly interested me less than most. What did hold my attention was what was exposed when his pants came off. He had a very nice dick. Less than six inches cut, respectably thick, and, for the time being, all mine. The relationship between Terry and I was developing in a different way than the others I had going. Sam and I were into to doing and having done virtually anything that could be done with cocks, assholes, and mouths. There was total reciprocity in all our sexual activity. Vic and I were in a nearly romantic relationship, one in which both of us seemed happiest when I had my cock as deep in Vic's ass as possible. Terry and I were just about the opposite. Although the term was not used back then, at least where I was from, I usually ended up bottoming for Terry, and didn't really mind it. We climbed into bed and lay side by side for a moment. I reached over and started stroking Terry's cock. "So when's the last time you got any?" I asked. "I got a handjob from Bev last week. Horny as hell right now." "I can see that. Just lay back." That was what he wanted to hear. As he lay back he put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. And I took his dick in my mouth. After one hurried encounter tonight, I wanted to be able to take my time on this and really work Terry's cock over. Whatever he might get from Bev, or whoever he hooked up with next time, would have to suffer in comparison. I started by brushing my lips against the tip of his cock, giving just the tip of my tongue. I continued, working up and down the shaft, my lips giving way to my tongue as I worked him from bottom to top. Finally, for Terry and I both, his cock entered my mouth. I took my time reacquainting myself with its taste. Sucking slowly, drawing back, and savoring every inch of him I could accommodate. As I sucked one end of his cock, and squeezed the other end with my hand and started short, firm strokes. "Oh my God that's unbelievable" he gasped. Having somewhat over three inches of his cock in my mouth pretty made any immediate response impossible, but I don't think his intent was to start a conversation. I worked him a little more and then took his dick out of my mouth for a moment. "You wanna cum in my mouth or my ass?" "You want me to fuck you?" I actually thought about it for a second. "Yeah, I want your load in my ass." When Vic fucked me, I liked to be on my back so I could watch his face. But that was a different relationship. I wanted Terry to pound me. I got on my hands and knees. I knew I had Terry's cock pretty wet, but didn't want to go too crazy either. "Remember at the canal" I said. "Put some spit on my ass." I am not sure how well he did, I was, after all, facing the other direction. But I did feel something, and that, coupled with the fact that I was used to taking Sam enabled me to take Terry's wet dick without much difficulty. For me, verbal is usually as much a part of sex as oral or anal. With no one else in the house, I didn't have to mind my language. "You like fucking me, Terry?" "Yeah." "You like me sucking your cock?" "Shit, what do you think?" "Do I suck your cock better than anyone else?" "Yeah." "So who do you want to go to bed with when you're horny?" "Damnit you're crazy, Stu" "Tell me." "You, damnit. You're better than any girl I've ever had." "So then fuck me like you mean it." He interpreted my suggestion correctly. His strokes got longer and more powerful. I could, I thought, feel his balls hitting my ass. I was beginning to think that maybe I had gone a little bit overboard in getting Terry going, but I was rescued from potential damage by what for Terry, in 1990's speak, may have been the Mother of All Orgasms. I could not resist aiding and abetting by tightening my muscles around his cock as best as I could. "Sonuvabitch. Mother fuck. Let go of me, damnit." I relaxed the pressure and felt him almost collapse on my back. It was not the most comfortable position for me, but it succeeded in keeping his cock in me a little longer. Finally I slowly sagged down onto the mattress, Terry still more or less on my back. He rolled off to one side, and I turned to try to maintain his penetration, but he has lost most of his hardon and slipped out. As we lay there on our backs, I reached over and gently trailed my finger from his solar plexus to the beginnings of his pubes. He jumped at first, but soon got used to the caressing. "What are you doing?" "I don't know if there's a name for it. You want me to stop?" "No, that's o.k. You can keep going if you want." I suppose you could have called it afterplay, since Terry's cum was in my ass, and Vic was carrying mine in a similar location. "So you really like me to fuck you?" Terry asked unnecessarily. "Let me put it this way. Any time you want your cock sucked, or any time you want to fuck someone up the ass, I'll be as available as I can." "Damn." "Yeah, I know. Everyone is different. With you, I don't have a problem being the only one fucked or sucked. With someone else, it might be different. Don't ask me why." "You don't mind that I don't suck you, or let you fuck me?" "Would I like to have you to suck me off, or to fuck you, hell yes. But if you just don't feel like it's something you can't do, or don't want to do, do you really think I would enjoy it?" "I guess that makes sense. I mean I might want to try some time. I did taste Vic a little when we did it with him. It wasn't bad or anything." "Hey, when you're ready, I've got a cock that would to try out your mouth and your ass, but until then I'll give you all the sex you want no questions asked. That work for you?" "How could it not?" Terry replied. Our riding around time had nearly expired, and Terry's parents could arrive at any time. We threw our clothes back on and made the quick trip into town. The Ferris Wheel and Octopus were still spinning, but I invested my last quarter in, ta dah, another corn dog. Something about the way its shape reminded me of Vic and Terry.