Date: Tue, 13 Nov 2012 16:37:49 -0800 (PST)
From: R Ranger <bn2rumpranger@yahoo.com>
Subject: Midwestern Tale Chapter 1

Warning! The following story is a pure work of erotic fiction. The story
contains descriptive scenes of sexual encounters between consenting
individuals. If you are not of legal age to read stories of this nature or
you are offended by the subject matter contained herein do not read any
further.

Midwestern Tale
By The Rump Ranger

My first attempt at getting cornholed, that is what my boyfriend called it,
occurred late summer before I entered seventh grade.

Tim, my neighbor and best buddy, attempted to take my anal virginity on a
Friday night after a day of fishing and swimming down at the lake. He
attempted to penetrate my unspoiled asshole using nothing more than saliva
as a lubricant: not the best lubricant for anal intercourse. Tim was older
than me and supposedly more experienced sexually. At least I thought he had
more experience. He was also a grade ahead of me in school. We were about
the same stature. I'd gone through a growth spurt late in the sixth grade
and continued to grow during the summer; therefore, I was a big for my age.

At five foot ten inches my naturally well-built body allowed me to start
hanging with a particular social group of more mature boys in our small
Midwestern community. During that summer before entering the seventh grade
I continued to grow. I began to notice that my body was changing. I began
developing a little hair under my armpits, around my crotch, even a few
straggly hairs on my face. My voice was doing strange things. My testicles
had dropped. My penis had gotten bigger both flaccid and erect. I was
experiencing strange feelings. My life was in a chaotic state.

My body and emotions were changing in so many areas that it was beginning
to freak me out. I felt a sense of abandonment and loneliness. Then all of
a sudden one day without any warning I became permanent member of the
toughest crowd in our community. There was no initiation or beat down, just
slaps on the back accepting me as one of the crew. Most of the younger guys
in our gang had older brothers who were part of the small social group or
had been before they left for college or military service. I was an only
child, so there was no older brother to usher me into the tight knit
group. Tim did that job for me.

Most of the guys aged out of the gang by mid to late high school years for
one reason or the other. As I think back I suspect they simply outgrew the
gang. Our gang did all sorts of neat stuff together. Because we lived in
rural America families did things as a community group. We attended church
activities which included little league sports, went camping, fishing and
hunting as well as picnics and family reunions. Every boy knew how to fish
by the time he started school and by ages eight or nine boys started
hunting with their fathers and family members.

Many boys in the area had their own BB guns or air rifles, 22 rifles and
shotguns by the time they were ten or eleven, and I was no exception. For
me living in rural America made for good times. Our gang went swimming nude
down at the lake and river during the summer months, so I got to see the
boy's nude. During the summer we would lie on the river bank nude after
swimming, joking, smoking and listening to the older boy's spinning yarns
of sexual accomplishments.

I listened intently to the older boys tell of their sexual exploits with
girls in the community all the while watching our dicks grow. The older
boys would explain in detail about how they would cop a feel, play stink
finger, and then fuck a local girl. Of course I'd never done any of that
stuff, so the stories were intriguing. Looking back I doubt that the boys
had done all they bragged about, but the stories were good for sexual
arousal.

Bobby and Jerry were the oldest of our crew, both around fifteen, and Tim
was Jerry's younger brother. Danny who was seventeen had just left the gang
about the time I arrived, leaving a leadership power vacuum. Bobby and
Jerry were the two next youngest and must have been around fifteen as
neither of them had a driver's license yet. One way or the other they would
vie for leadership of our crew. In all probability there would be a fight
to see who was the toughest and thereby become the leader of the gang.

I hated to see any of the guys fight, but that was the way it was back in
the day. I was never much of a fighter as a youngster. I would rather play
sports, ride my bicycle with the others, and of course play with my
favorite toy, my penis, than fight.

The older boys had their bikes all tricked out. Bobby and Jerry however had
used Cushman motor scooters that they used to deliver newspapers and other
advertisements. The school would not allow them to bring the scooters to
school, so they rode their bikes. The boys were always tinkering with their
scooters to keep them running. Houses were spread out in the country, not
like living in the city today where next door neighbors can hear their
neighbors taking piss. When not delivering his paper route Jerry also
worked for his dad in the local general store (kind of like a Quick Stop
convenience store in today's world). Our crew, seven in all, would gather
at the store in the mornings on our way to school and after school where we
occupied the same picnic table under the covering beside the store.

Although all of us were Caucasian Christians we considered ourselves to be
the bad boys of the town and dressed the part to fit. Of course all of us
had the ducktail hairstyle popular back in the day. We talked tough shit to
interlopers, thereby scaring them away from our turf. Once in a while there
would be a rumble. Back in the day bad boys were who the girls looked to
for adventure and fun.

All of us were filled with a sense of adventure. We talked the tough talk,
even swearing, of course not around any adults, and smoked cigarettes to
look tough. Obtaining tobacco products, alcohol and condoms was easy
considering the time period, and also since Jerry's dad owned the general
store. There was no carding for cigarettes at that time in our area of the
country; plus there were cigarette machines in all the stores and service
stations. Needless to say, obtaining alcohol, tobacco products or condoms
back in the day was easy. The Vietnam War was fast coming to a conclusion
as far as US ground troop's involvement and we all knew that we would miss
out on being a part of that war.

The guys that returned from war seemed to have the coolest cars or
bikes. Then they would get married and have to sell their precious pride
and joys. By the time we were preteens and teens we were all enamored with
the biker culture that seemed to be sweeping the country. Of course we
tried as best we could with our bicycles to emulate bad boy bikers in the
films. We wore black leather jackets over our white T-shirts. Most of us
wore some type of black boots and Levis to complete our tough appearance. A
good many biker flicks had been produced since the 1950s and we tried to
see them all.

Easy Rider with Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper was the film that caught my
attention. I probably saw the movie at least half dozen times and still
catch the classic today when it's on cable. After seeing that film I knew
when I turned eighteen I would buy a Harley, preferably a Harley chopper
and travel America. Tim wanted to be my partner for the cross country
adventure, so we were saving our pennies to buy bikes and gas. Neither of
us dated seriously as that might take away from our bike fund. Neither of
us considered ourselves to be homosexual, but we did enjoy each other's
company experimenting.

One Friday afternoon during summer vacation after fishing and swimming at
the lake all day we put up our small tent to stay overnight. I sensed that
we would do some sexual stuff that night as earlier conversation had set
the tone for it. After darkness set we cooked hot dogs on a small campfire
and drank the two remaining sodas we had brought along. We extinguished the
fire, crawled into our tent and then the flashlights came out. Inside the
tent we began playing around with each other. One thing led to the other
and eventually we were turned opposite each other performing oral sex.

I must say at this point in my life that I had become addicted to oral sex
and we both could ejaculate. Blowjobs were on my mind damn near 24/7 to the
point that all I thought about and looked forward to was getting away to
some secluded place to suck and get sucked. I would think about Tim blowing
me and get a hard on. Those damn erections always came at the worst
possible times. I'm pretty sure Tim was addicted too. Two things we did not
engage in was kissing and ejaculating in the other's mouth.

Back during my youth kissing another boy on the lips was frowned upon and
definitely a sign he was queer. Tim and I would suck each other
simultaneously or individually dependent upon the setting. We quickly
learned to ease up or take a break when we felt that sensation that we were
about to cum. We had a signal to indicate we were close and about to blow
when we were sixty-nining. We would slap each other's ass and then pull off
before blowing a load. Sometimes we would just lay back and let the
sensation building up die down, thinking about other things. Other times
after blowing each other we would jack each other off to conclusion.

That Friday night after performing oral sex we finished jacking each other
off to fruition. Once we both ejaculated we wiped up the mess with our cum
rags and settled back on our sleeping bags to get some sleep. Tim rolled
over with one leg covering my crotch and leg with his head resting on my
chest and shoulder. I remember how warm his body felt against mine as well
as his warm breath blowing against my neck.

I wanted to make out, kissing him filling his mouth with my tongue and for
him to reciprocate. I wanted us to hold each other our warm bodies close
together until the sun came up. That night was the first time I had
feelings for a guy. I knew that these feelings I was having for Tim were
not good and I had to put a lid on them. These were the type feelings I was
supposed to have for a girl. Sometime after midnight Tim whispered, "Are
you asleep.

I replied, "No."

He asked, "Do you want to do some more stuff?"

I answered back excitedly, "Sure!"

Tim propped up on his elbow whereby he began quizzing me. He wanted to know
if I had ever considered doing anything anal, such as cornholing. I told
him that I'd heard the term and knew what it meant, but didn't really know
how to perform it. Of course there was a game called cornhole, but what Tim
was referring to was butt fucking me. Tim began explaining how he was going
to put his hard dick up my ass. As he talked my sphincter began to tighten
up. I'd never had anything in my ass except an enema a couple times and
that wasn't pleasant.

While Tim was explaining the process to me he began rubbing his hand up and
down my front eventually finding my hard dick. In no time I was moaning
with pleasure as he played with it. He then wet his finger and found my
asshole. Tim continued putting his saliva on his fingers getting my asshole
area all wet. He told me that when his finger penetrated me that it would
hurt a little, but then I would feel a wave of pleasure wash away the pain.

Suddenly, I felt his finger attempting to penetrate my virgin asshole. My
asshole tightened up and I let out a squeak of pain as his finger attempted
to push into my asshole. I clamped my legs and asshole tight. Tim stopped,
withdrawing his hand to spit in his hand. Once again he began rubbing the
saliva into my ass. I told him to try again. He began rubbing my ass and at
the same time he was telling me to relax. I guess I became relaxed because
on the second attempt his finger made successful entry. His finger
continued playing in my ass. I thought to myself this must be finger
fucking or stink finger that I'd heard so much about from the older boys.

Tim must have finger fucked me for an hour. Sometimes he had two fingers
inside me. While Tim finger fucked me I was moaning and groaning writhing
around on the ground in great pleasure. I was begging Tim to fuck me. I
knew I was ready to be fucked. After a while Tim instructed me to get on
all fours like a dog and he would get behind me. I'd seen dogs and farm
animals do this so I got into animal reproductive position. Tim spit into
the crack of my ass a few times while his hand rubbed the saliva in my
ass. He then put the spongy head of his bigger prick against my asshole and
began pushing.

The harder he pushed the spongy head of his dick against my asshole trying
to penetrate my virgin asshole the more I would tighten my sphincter
muscle, preventing penetration. I was trying not to make any sounds of
discomfort, but that was not happening. Tim's dick would buckle ever once
in a while. He kept telling me to relax, but to make sure to tell him if it
hurt. I told him hell yes it hurts. Tim jokingly said that he should have
packed a glob of wheel bearing grease to lube up my tight asshole. I
replied at least some Crisco. After numerous tries we accepted the
inevitable: Tim's dick apparently was too big and was not going up my ass
that morning using nothing more than spit as lubricant.

As the sun rose in the east Saturday morning we ran naked to the lake to
rinse off. We returned to our tent for a session of oral sex. Then we
cleaned up, ate a few handfuls of dry cereal, packed all our camping gear
on our bikes and began peddling towards home. As we neared town we stopped
our bikes at the fork in the road. Tim said see you at church in the
morning pal. Then we rode off towards our respective homes.


[Do you as readers want to hear more about me and my buds? Do you want to
find out if Tim ever penetrate my virgin asshole. Let me hear from you
readers. Comments and critics are welcome. If you find any mistakes please
feel free to point them out to me. Address all correspondences to Randall
at: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo "dot" com Subject line: Midwest Slut.

Do not send any e-mail with attachments to this address as they are
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All rights reserved. This story is copyrighted and may not be distributed
on any other website or publications without the express written permission
of the author.]