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I was born and grew up in a very small, very rural Indiana town. Less than 2.000 people lived in the town limits, and less than another thousand lived in the rest of the county. In the next county in all directions were bigger cities, to the south was the state capitol, which was home to over a million people. But around my little town was nothing but farms and forest preserves and reservoirs. At least my folks weren't farmers and I wasn't a farm kid. Mom worked at the only hospital around, in the next town over, dad owned a plot of land outside town where he had a junk yard and recycling center where his family's old house still stood but was in too bad of a condition to live in.
The town had a gas station, a police station with an unmarked police car, a drug store, a flower and party store, a hardware and ag store, and a pizza shop. When I was twelve, the couple that owned the pizza shop sold it to a guy who moved into the apartment next to it.
There was an elementary school, but seventh and eighth grades went to the junior high in the next county, about fifteen miles away. The high school was almost twenty miles away in almost the same direction, the same town where mom worked at the hospital.
I had an older brother and two younger sisters. James was eighteen when I was sixteen, when I messed around with someone else for the first time. Not my brother. Though, Jimmy and me had done a lot of show-and-tell and brotherly nad grabbing. I'd seen him beating off the first time when I was eleven. I don't think it was his first time. I sometimes wondered if that was at least partly why I turned out gay. I doubt it. But I did think about it a lot, and tried to see it again. Which I did. More often than he knew. By the time I turned sixteen I didn't try catching him at it much anymore. I was more interested in sex with someone not my brother than peeking on him when he beat one off.
So, I grew up in this tiny little town, seeing bigger towns when I went to other schools, and I'd been to the big city a few times. When I turned fifteen, I was pretty gangly and awkward. I was growing fast and was the tallest guy in my tenth grade class. I had red hair and blue-gray eyes, a few light freckles, a kind of long, narrow face, and was almost horse-faced. But I had a strong jaw and a big smile. I was doing okay in school, not great, I was no brain, and okay at sports. Not great there either. I liked baseball the most, and played it for the most part, but wasn't very good. My arms and legs were so long, they seemed to get in my own way more often than doing what I wanted them to.
By the time I was sixteen, I was pretty tall and less skinny, gaining some muscles from baseball and some wrestling and weight lifting. My folks gave me a car before my birthday, from one dad had picked up and fixed up at the junk yard. Seven-year-old Mustang. V6 and a four-speed. Triple black convertible. My friends were so jealous. Almost everyone was.
And I started getting a lot of attention from the girls. I'd been glad to avoid that so far, but now girls were coming up to me and talking to me and asking if I was going out with anyone and what I was doing on this day or that day.
I really didn't know what I was going to do. But I knew I needed a job for gas and insurance and just to have my own money. In my town that meant working at one of the grain mills, one of the produce co-ops, one of the house repair guys, or getting a job out of town. I tried all the places in the neighboring towns, like fast food places and mall stores and places that hired sixteen-year-olds.
I didn't get anything but a couple of interviews that never called back. Then one day I was in the pizza shop, talking to the owner, and he mentioned how he was going to rent the empty store next door and put in a video rental store.
I even got to earn a few bucks helping him clean up the old empty store, and paint and fix up the place, put in more lights, and build the shelves for the movies. It looked pretty good when it was done, and I'd earned over a hundred dollars.
Paul was a pretty okay guy for being almost thirty. He was in good shape, and used to play soccer in high school. He liked good music from classic rock bands, and good movies. We got along more like friends than I thought I would with a guy so much older than me. He was my first adult friend I guess. He made me feel more adult when I hung around with him, anyway.
He hired me to work for him when the video store opened. I already knew the scanning system and the inventory. He had a guy knock through the wall in two places, so he and the employees had a way back and forth between the two stores, and so the customers had their own way between the two stores. You could come into the video store, look for a movie, rent it, walk into the pizza shop, pick up your order, and leave through the other front door.
I mostly did the video store, and after a while I would take a pizza delivery if it got that busy. He usually did the pizza runs. Sundays, after work, if I had time, I'd stay and we'd close up, and walk over to his apartment next door, in the end of the same building, and take a movie and a pizza with us.
His living room was set up so that the small couch was in front of the big screen, and two chairs sat to the sides, and he had a surround-sound system.
So I sat on the small couch in front of the big-screen and in the surround sweet spot with him all the time, watching movies, eating pizza. He usually changed out of his work clothes, so sometimes he'd be in just a robe.
Once I asked him if he'd ever been married. He said that once he'd almost gotten married, but she'd gotten too possessive and demanding, wanting to know where he was if he wasn't home right after work or something.
I kind of thought I could understand that.
He'd asked me about girls. Not all the time, but he knew I was getting asked out, and I had told him I didn't know which girl to go out with. Not yet.
We were watching a horror movie and the pizza was gone one night when he asked me if I'd even done anything with a girl yet. I thought about saying I had, but I felt the blush already, and could tell I had blown that, so I shook my head. He said most guys didn't before sixteen, and quite a lot still hadn't by eighteen.
I opened my mouth and said, "All my friends have."
"They're just bragging and probably making it up," he said.
"No. I know they have."
I knew them and their girlfriends. I knew my four best friends had all lost their virginities. They all knew, and most of the school knew, I hadn't.
"That's okay. You will when you will. Don't rush it."
I agreed, and we talked about other stuff.
Over the next couple of months, mostly between my sports calendar, we watched a movie and ate pizza or subs in his apartment after closing the stores, and talked about girls. He gave me advice about how to talk to them, how they thought, and how not to piss them off without knowing it. And how to play with their bodies. He was giving me boners how he was talking about how to do stuff.
One day I was working on a Saturday, and a white van pulled up to the store. The guy came in and asked if my boss was around. I told him next door, and he went over. Then a couple of minutes later I see Paul going out to the box truck with the guy and climb in the door in the side. Later, Paul came out with a box. Later, as we closed, I asked.
"He was selling used movies," Paul said, giving me a grin I knew meant there was something more to it. So I asked. Then he said, "He had a few pornos, too."
"Did you get any?"
"Cool. What ones?"
"I'll show you when we're finished closing up."
And he did. Twenty pornos in colorful boxes. We put inventory numbers on the tags and boxes, and put them up in the little closed off area next to the counter.
"Can I take one home?" I asked, hard as steel in my jeans.
Just the covers were hot! The guys' dick and the girls' titties and pussies were covered, but, yeah. Other than a couple of porn magazines through friends so far, these were the most pornographic things I'd ever seen. And that was just the boxes!
"Yeah, right," he laughed. "You have to be eighteen to rent these."
"Oh, come on! I won't tell!"
"No way. You get caught with that by your parents, or you brag to your friends, and I get a visit from the cops. Nope."
"You know I won't tell," I insisted.
"Yeah, I know you won't. I think. But accidents happen. You're not taking any of these out of here."
I laughed about it, but I was kind of pissed. He could have done me a favor, ya know?
"You really wanna see one?"
"Duh!" I shot, still looking at the covers one by one, but favoring one that said it was ten horny dicks and ten horny pussies, and blow-jobs galore. And a couple of the guys in those ten small pictures were really hot.
"This one," I said, picking it off the shelf.
"Bring it with us. It can be the movie for tonight."
"Are you kidding?"
Watch a porn with him?
Why not? Maybe something'll happen!
And he'd probably think I was a fag if I said yes.
But he offered.
What the hell?
I shrugged and laughed, then said, "Okay."
When our pizza was done, he gathered up the day's money, I carried the pizza and movie, and we walked over to his apartment.
I was so hard it hurt. I needed to adjust it, but I had a pizza with a movie on top of it in both hands.
Once we got inside, he went to change, and I got my boner more comfortable in my pants. I put the movie in and hit play and then pause, and got plates and napkins and the grated cheese and peppers from his fridge along with sodas.
He came back wearing his robe and socks, and I was pretty sure he had a bulge already. Mine hadn't gone down one bit.
"Hit it," he said as usual as he sat down.
It was previews, so I forwarded through that, and got to the start of the movie. No plot, nothing you'd call acting, and no frills. One couple kissing, turned into a couple doing oral, turned into a couple fucking. Ten times in a row. Some of the guys were really hot, a couple were okay, a couple were pretty ugly. But it was ten cocks! And ten sets of nuts! And ten asses, chests, faces.
He talked though most of the scenes. "See, that's how you play with their clit right. Not the way the last guy did." Stuff like that. What I was really interested in was how to suck cock. I paid the closest attention at those points. It looked like so much fun. It was during those blow-job scenes that my dick danced the most.
I was so charged up by the last scene that I felt like it was plugged into a light socket. I could really fell my body buzzing. My dick felt like it was vibrating, and going numb. I couldn't wait to get home and pound one out.
"Can you stand up yet?" he asked, laughing.
"No," I laughed back.
After a couple of seconds, he asked, "Can I ask you something?"
"It's kind of personal, and if you don't want to answer it, just don't, or say so. Whatever."
I'd told him I was still a virgin, what was such a big deal beside that?
"How big is it?"
I didn't even know if I should ask if I'd heard him right or not. I was just sort of stunned.
"How big is it?" he asked again. "Over six inches yet?"
"Well, most guys end up with about six inches. But you've got those big hands and long fingers, and you're tall and stuff. I expect you've already got those six inches, and you're heading for seven already."
I stared at him, thinking, can he really tell that?
"Am I right?"
"Cool. I thought you'd be hung. Can I see?"
"None of my friends in school had red hair, so I've always wanted to see a guy with red pubes."
I really couldn't think clearly.
"Tell ya what. Show off that big cock of yours, and your pubes and nuts, let me have a good, close, long look, and you can have the living room to yourself while you watch the movie again before you go."
"You... you mean..."
"I mean, let me see how you're growing down there, and I'll go to bed and you can watch the movie and beat off before you go home."
I thought about it, liking the idea, and figured I'd go for it. I nodded.
"Cool. So, stand up, turn toward me, and I'll do the rest."
I stood up, turned toward him, and he started undoing my jeans. I'd never felt anything like I did at that moment. I tingled inside like crazy, and my dick was so hard it felt like hot iron. And it jumped and bounced as I felt his fingers working the button and then the zipper. My jeans fell down to my ankles. My dick pushed out the front of my boxers.
He cupped my balls, jiggled them, and then looked up at me.
"Pretty damned big for a sixteen year old."
What could I say to that? I just laughed a little. This was pretty sexy so far. I was really hoping he would go a lot further than just looking, and so far his hands felt pretty good playing with my nuts.
Then he reached up and pulled down my boxers to my ankles, and sat back with a big smile on his face.
"What?" I asked.
"Fucking nice," he said, nodding. "You really got a nice dick."
I laughed again. I mean, it was embarrassing, and flattering. And I did have a pretty big one. It was almost exactly six inches, just a bit over. Straight, mostly, just a little bend upward all along it. The head was wider than the shaft, and right then it was almost scarlet red. And there was a drop coming out of the hole.
"You can touch it if you want."
Did I really just say that?
He leaned forward and grabbed it. His hand felt warm and soft, and he began stroking it from base to knob. Then his other hand cupped my nuts again. I loved having my nuts played with. And his hand knew what it was doing. Pretty soon he was just plain jerking me off. When I leaked pre-cum he wiped it around my head, then licked his finger.
I think I was supposed to act like I thought that was gross, but I actually licked my lips. I liked my pre-cum's taste. So did he, because he grinned around his finger.
He jerked me some more, going slow and kind of soft, and it felt great. When he asked how it felt, I smiled, nodded, and said, "Pretty good."
I wondered what I would do when I shot. Should I warn him? Would he be able to tell before it happened? Was he going to jerk me off long enough for that to happen? It wasn't going to be long.
Then he asked me, "Wanna see what a blow-job feels like?"
At first, I thought I should say no and pull away and act like I was upset. But I didn't. I nodded and laughed, and as he leaned forward, I said, "Yeah."
That first touch of his mouth on my dick was like warm, soft, Heaven. I don't know if I sighed or groaned or yelled. I only remember how fucking fantastically great it felt.
Then I was suddenly a second from cumming. I pushed against his shoulders a little and warned him, "I'm gonna squirt!"
I pulled my hips back, to pull my dick out of his mouth, but he pushed my hips forward with his hands on my butt. He massaged my butt with both hands as I started having the best orgasm ever.
I went up on my toes, my back arched backward, and my head went all the way back. I don't think I breathed the whole time. I just shook and concentrated on not screaming. Had to be the most cum I'd ever shot. Definitely the most squirts and the longest lasting one so far. It got hard to hold my balance.
I squeaked, "Please stop," and tried to push away and pull my dick out of his mouth, but his hands were pushing my butt forward and he was leaning forward. "No. No. Stop!"
I couldn't stand it! I'd never had any kind of idea that something could feel so good that it hurt!
When I got my dick out of his mouth, I almost fell off my feet. I managed to fall onto the couch, on my side. I grabbed my junk and protected it, even though he wasn't trying to get to it.
"Pretty good, huh?" he asked after a while.
I nodded and smiled. It'd been the best thing I'd ever felt. I didn't know how to tell him. I just wanted to thank him. Somehow.
He brushed my bangs aside and smoothed the rest of my hair.
"You okay yet?" he asked after a couple of minutes.
My breathing was normal again, and there weren't any more shakes or shivers. And I felt great. I nodded. I couldn't stop smiling and I felt like laughing.
"Are you okay with what happened?" he asked next.
He was meeting my eyes, and I could feel him being serious.
"Yeah, I'm okay with it," I said, wanting to tell him that I was gay.
I wondered if he was. I wondered if I should ask. Not now, I decided - on all points.
"You won't freak out later?"
"When you realize you got a blow-job from your boss?"
"No," I laughed. "Honest. I'm cool with it."
"Wanna do it again some time?"
His smile was back.
My uncontrollable smile was back. So was the feeling of laughter.
I really had to know something. I really wanted to do something. I had to ask...
"Next time, can I try it on you?"
He laughed, smiled, and said, "I'm ready if you are."
He patted his lap. At first I thought, not now, I just blew the hugest wad ever. But each second that passed, it appealed more and more.
I looked up and laughed, and said, "Sure."
I was getting horny again, right away. My dick wasn't yet, but it felt like it was going to be pretty soon. So I reached over and slid his robe open. It was about the same size as mine, but his balls were bigger, and he had way more hair which was a kind of medium brown. It was almost perfectly straight, with a pretty average head with protruding edges and a huge slit. There was a nice bubble of pre-cum in his slit.
His dick felt a lot like mine, but straighter. I began jerking it off like I did mine, and then I leaned down to lick at the pre-cum oozing out of the big hole in the end. The slit was huge, and when I pulled the slit open, there were two holes in it. And it was pretty sensitive when I licked there. And so tasty.
I opened my mouth, closed my lips around the edge of his head, and began giving him my first efforts at head.
"Move up and down it," he suggested.
"Change speed a lot."
"Try looser lips and tighter lips."
"Let your tongue slide along beneath it."
"Use your tongue all around it and take a break from sucking on it."
Endless advice. I took it all in. I loved sucking cock. It felt warm and safe, like a blanket on a cold night.
I liked the feel of his tube and the hard cock behind it sliding along my tongue. And the soft area under the head was so smooth and velvety. So was the whole head. Wow. So soft and smooth.
He suggested things to do and try, and I had a great time. His pre-cum was so salty and mushroomy. I was playing with his big balls when he said he was getting close.
He told me to slow down, stay mostly on the head, suck harder, and use my tongue.
I felt his dick get bigger and hotter, then some hot wetness that was really musky and earthy and salty, and then his cock swelled up over and over as my mouth filled up with a lot of hot jizz. I mean a lot. I had no hope of getting it all. It was leaking out past my lips before he was half done. I did my best, though. It was so thick! Almost hard to swallow. And his cock jerked like crazy with every shot.
I kept licking and sucking, and he kept groaning softly and moving his hips, and saying things like, "Nice work,' and, "That was great."
Then he said, "If you keep going, it'll get hard again, and you'll have to finish it off again."
Okay with me, and I kept going. I was totally hard again, and all turned on, so I started jerking myself off at the same time.
"Come here," he said, then pulled me onto the floor.
We sixty-nined. It was even more intense! My dick was super-sensitive, but I was super turned on and dealt with it, and kept working his dick like mad. I lasted a lot longer this time, and we were both telling each other that we were about to shoot when I came first in what was an uncontrollable fit of thrusting hips and grunts. That second time made the first seem like nothing. What kind of sensations can the body experience? For a couple of seconds, my body was so rigid and tense and I needed to breathe so badly that I really thought that maybe I was about to die. I didn't even care in those couple of instants. The orgasm was too good. I felt as if I died right then, I would have died feeling the ultimate in sexual release. I had the brief thought, "I wonder if there's a sexual Heaven for those who die in the throes of an orgasm so powerful it kills them?"
Never found out. Ended up coming to with him saying, "Here it goes."
I felt his cock in my mouth again, and remembered I was sucking on one, and went right back to work on it just as it bean spitting off.
It was a good one, because he was groaning louder this time, and moving around more. And as soon as his cum stopped flowing, he was pulling me off of it.
We didn't move. We just laid there and breathed. I wanted to scream, "That was fucking fantastic!" I wanted to jump and dance but I was too drained to move. I couldn't stop smiling. I wanted to laugh. I felt so great again.
He started rubbing my hips. I followed his movements with my hands on his body. Any touch of our dicks was almost pleasure-torture. We started talking about it. I had to agree that blow-jobs were amazing. No, I didn't mind giving either. Yeah, I actually kind of liked yet. Yeah, I think I do like guys. Yeah, more than girls. I guess so. Yeah.
Then he swapped ends and we faced each other, and he put both arms around me. It was shocking at first, then kind of nice, and as I worked up against him it got even better. He got me crying and talking about being gay and a lot of that stuff. In his arms, it was all okay.
He was bi, but preferred men more often than women. But he was okay with being alone too. But now he wasn't. Nor was I.
It was, from the start, far more than sex. We talked, he got me to feel okay about being gay, and with myself.
I started dating for cover almost immediately. I even had sex with a couple of the girls, almost always looking forward to Sunday night with my boss. A couple of the girls were more than just cover, and we ended up good friends. I even told one of them before we graduated. But I didn't tell her about Paul.
We had sex every Sunday night for almost three years. Sometimes I stayed over all night. I loved doing that. Hugging and snuggling between sex. Snacks in bed between sex. That was usually on a weekend night when I wasn't going out with a chick. Sometimes I could sneak away from everyone: He'd follow me to one of the next towns over, and I'd leave my car in some safe place, and he'd drive us back, then take me to my car the next day.
Over those three years I had a pretty good record in wrestling and our baseball team made it semis twice. He helped me with some classes and my grades weren't bad at all. I was happy as hell.
I graduated high school, got a real job at the grain mill, and still worked for him part-time on Sundays. Usually six to close. Also in those three years, half the town lost their jobs when GM closed the plant one town over, and there were already people out of work because of the economy. Now, almost no one was buying pizzas or renting movies. Not very many, and not very often.
Just after my graduation, he had to close the stores and move to take a good job down-state. He had my phone number, I was nineteen and still lived with my parents, and he didn't have a cell - they weren't everywhere yet. He promised to call and give me his number when he got a phone at his apartment, and we'd stay in touch. I sometimes had a computer and email, but phones didn't do email yet.
I wanted to go visit him. I wanted to sleep together, all night, hugging and snuggling between sex. I wanted to go stay all weekend with him. He said he'd have to get settled in and figure out what his schedule and weekends were going to be like. He was sure he'd be doing weekends at the restaurant for a while. And he did.
About a month later, I visited, and we had sex all night and most of the next day. I visited a few times over the next months, mostly just for sex. But I soon figured out that a cute guy at the co-op hadn't dated anyone that anyone knew about. I started talking to him alone, and pretty soon I was staying over at his house a lot. He lived in a nice old farm house his folks used to rent but were selling to him. I moved in. He turned out to be even better than Paul. He was two years older than me, and we were more alike, and we fell in love.
We've been together for years now, in the same house, with a couple cats, a couple dogs, and lately some cows, sheep, and chickens.
Neither of us really work anymore, thanks to his good sense with his parents' properties.
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email at smokr at hushmail dot com are read and answered.
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