Date: Sat, 30 Dec 2017 20:11:20 -0700
From: Rocky Hawkins <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: "Small Farm, No Options"

Title: Small Farm Town, No Options


Author's Note:

This story is told as a fantasy, and I won't tell you that there is any
truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that
creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not...

I love email and feedback, so let me know if you like this one!

DISCLAIMER:

The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual
interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of
residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such,
do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue.

Donate:

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Donate. It's worth the spunk.

Contact me:
Feedback and such to justwriting@soniq.org.

========================================================

Everyday, it was the same. My 3 brothers and I would wake up at 4am, begin
our chores. Feed the cattle. Setup the machines to milk. Collect eggs for
the day. Load up the hay to the horses. We all had our duties; Since I was
now 14, I was also in charge of the Caterpillars (multi-use vehicles). My
oldest brother, Taylor, was 16, so he only had one job; to get the grazing
cattle herded. It was a dangerous job, and involved the cattle prod. And,
it took most of the morning. He also got to drive the big tractor and the
husker, but that's in the summer.

My mother would call us in around 6:30, we'd have a nice breakfast, then
off to school. We only had one truck, so Dad would drive us all in. 5 boys,
16, 14, 12, and 10, all crammed into a Ford Pickup. On the warm days, we
could sit in the back, but this was winter in Wisconsin. It was 41 degrees
today. Cramped, but warm.

Each day after school - 3 hours of chores, then homework, then our meal,
some conversation, and then free time. It was 1995, but we didn't have
cable, and the internet wasn't available in our small town - we really did
live a pretty simple life, and that was ok. The big problem was that we
were 10 miles from the nearest neighbor. We were 20 miles from town. And
even then, our school only had about 150 kids, total. So, outside of
school, the only people we could hang out with was, well, ourselves.

Now, when I was Johnny's age, I would love that time to play board games
with my brothers. Or, sometimes, we would get a trip to the library and
have a stack of books or a trip to Blockbuster. But, about 2 years ago, my
body started to change. My frame spiked to over 5'7", and I bulked up a
bit, almost to 160 lbs. Our whole family was brunette, but I was the only
one with green eyes. I started to compare myself to Taylor regularly, and
realized that I was growing up like him. He was huge, all over. He had
already hit 6 feet, and working with the tractor and the bailer really
helped him. He was built, by most anyone's definition. Sometimes, I'd catch
myself watching him twist in the hay room, lifting 60 pound bails from the
loft to the trailer, like they were pillows. In the loft, it was pretty
hot, and by the third bail, he'd usually strip off his shirt. I could see
his muscles flex and twist, his wide chest making a "V" towards his slim
waist. At night, he'd come out of the shower in his robe, and I could see
how his calves flexed as he walked. It was... exciting. Ever since I was
12, and my voice changed, I started to look at him differently. Sometimes
at night, my hands would reach down to my hard, 5" uncut cock, and when my
eyes would close, I would picture Taylor, pulling me into his arms... but
we shared a room, and I couldn't really risk anything.

So, I had to be careful. That was pretty faggy stuff, thinking about your
own brother like that- and our church always said that touching yourself
was `dirty'. I couldn't risk anyone in the family knowing about my
thoughts. What would Mom say? I'd sure get the belt from Dad! No, it was
better to just leave that stuff in my dreams. Well, as much as possible.

Easier said than done. I couldn't help it. The contents of my BVDs had a
mind of it's own, and needed to get attention. If I went more than a day or
two, my school day was filled with embarrassing adjusting, and often books
in front of my jeans.

Soon, I realized that my free time at night was could be spent `working
out' around the farm. I'd tell my family I was going out for a jog or to
workout in the barn. But really, I had found a nice tight spot in the hay
loft. Each night, I would peel down my jeans, lower my underwear, close my
eyes and reach for my hardness. On my knees, I would begin pumping my hips
into my fist, imagining that Taylor was behind me, his muscled arms around
my bare chest, his breath hot and sweet on my neck. I would jerk faster and
faster, pretending his own hands were mine, jerking my cock. I would feel
his abs on my back, his own hard cock through his jeans on my
tailbone... in no time, my mind would explode, my breathing would stop, and
my jugular would get caught in my throat. Both hands would reach to my
crotch, one cupping my balls, and the other squeezing my dick, the foreskin
pulled all the way back. In the past two years, I had gotten pretty good at
it, and I felt my cum shoot from my hips, all the way out through my
dick. I would look down each time, watching the cum hit the floor, they
hay, and sometimes, it would fall through the crack. Always alone, I would
let my moans out, and my body would convulse.

Tonight, though, it was cold. I mean, really cold. My parents, knowing I
was going to go 'workout' told me that tonight was off the table. I started
to protest, but Dad simply raised his hand. There was no arguing. Mom, to
be helpful, waved at the movies they had picked up that day; the VHS tape
titles of no interest to me. The younger brothers, Mike and Johnny, picked
this time; they were boring movies.

I went to the bookshelf. My dick had been hard almost all day, and standing
there with no release was getting to me. I had to figure out what to do. I
picked a book, and headed to my room. Maybe I could be quick...

No luck. Taylor was in there, and he seemed intent on a project for school
he was working on. When I came in, he lifted his head, looked me up and
down, then scoffed. I scrunched my face. It was hot up here. Dad had lit
the fireplace, and the chimney ran along our far wall. He had already
showered, but I'm sure the heat got to him. He had thrown his robe on his
bed, and was just in his basketball shorts.

"What's funny?" I asked.

Without looking from his papers, he smirked.  "Didn't get to 'workout'
tonight, Rocky?"

I peeled off my shirt as well, and plopped on the bed. As he spoke, I felt
my cock twitch. I really needed to cum soon.

"Nah, Ma says it's too cold," I continued, "No exercise tonight."

He slammed his pencil down, looked over at me, then turned back to his
book. He shook his head, and began to write again. I looked back at him
funny, then flipped open my own book. I was laying on the bed, reading the
first few pages, when he spoke again.

"We all know what you do when you go to the hay loft, dude. It's so
obvious." His tone was harsh. I felt myself get hot, red in the face.

"What, I, uhh..." I didn't have any words. I couldn't get any out.

"Look, Rocky," he said, turning in his chair, "all guys do it. I've been
doin' in for like, 6 years."

My mouth dropped. He jerked off? How? When?

He could read my mind, so he spoke again, this time, twisting his chair
toward me. "I do it every night, actually. Sometimes two or three
times. You know-" he paused, then smiled. "You sleep REALLY hard. I make
noise and everything now. I even squeak the bed. You NEVER wake up."

I couldn't talk. I mean, this was the most I've ever heard about.. that. No
one taught me anything. Other than in gym class and the occasional porno
floating around, I had no idea how it all worked. Actually, until this
moment, it didn't even occur to me that other guys did it. I mean, it's a
dirty thing, right? Isn't it, you know, naughty?

"Anyway," he said, spinning back to his homework, "my point is, we all do
it. If you wanna do it in here, I mean- don't be gay about it, but I get
it. Just use a sock or something. I don't want spunk on the floor. And if
mom sees it on the sheets, we're both dead."

I stared at page 4 of my book for the next 10 minutes. Taylor had gone back
to his homework, went down for a cookie, and even re-packed his bag for
school. It wasn't until he asked about the light that I broke my
thought. It was about 9pm, we had chores in the morning. We both usually
slept in boxers, but tonight, I didn't get out of my pajamas. My hard-on
didn't go down, and I was still spinning.

It was about 9:30 when my eyes started to droop, my body fighting the
sleep. Then it happened. The bed began to shiver a bit. My eyes sprung open
- the threat of sleep now completely off the table. I heard Taylor move
above me, our bunk beds unforgiving to his weight. Then, it began to
wiggle. First a little, then in pattern. He was.. doing it?

"Rocky?" He whispered. I didn't respond. "Rocky... are you up?"

I listened as he started to breathe heavy. "Oh, yeah," he whispered. The
bed began to creak louder. I could hear the thumping get faster. Then, he
moaned. "Oh godddddd, take it, yeah..." I strained for each word. There was
no mistake. He was doing it!

The bed stopped shaking, and I heard him twist. Was he on his stomach? The
light shifted a little from our windows, and I watched a balled up sock
fling towards the hamper in the corner. "Fuck," he whispered, then shortly,
a snore.

Two days passed, and each night, I heard the same thing. It wasn't until
Friday that things changed.

It was 9pm, and I still wasn't allowed to go, you know, workout, at
all. Even in the mornings, Mom and Dad made us wear the thermals, just to
be safe. We were going through a deep freeze this year. The temperature had
dropped, and we even had to restrict the cattle to the barn. Too cold for
anything.

I flicked the light off, my third night wearing my flannel pajamas. Taylor
noticed, but didn't say anything. It hadn't stopped him from jerking each
night. I was ready to explode.

10 minutes passed, and I heard the familiar wiggle of the bunk. He was
gonna roll to his stomach, then start his routine. But, then, he
stopped. "Rocky, I know you're awake,"

Nothing.

"Dude, you snore when you are sleeping. I know you're awake," he said
again. I was busted.

"Yeah?" I ventured.

Taylor's face appeared above me, his skater hair falling forward. He was
bent over the bunk, at the chest, upside down. He looked at me, then
scanned up and down at my covered body. "Dude, I told you it's cool. You
can Jerk off. I mean, You had to have heard me get it."

I nodded, trying to be cool. "I know, just not in the mood," I lied.

His laugh was loud. Almost a bark. He lowered to a chuckle.

"Liar! I can barely go the whole day. You're at like 3 days now," he pulled
forward a bit. "I bet you're hard right now! Show me!"

He pulled at my blanket, and my eyes went wide. I scrambled to hold on, but
he was 2 years older, and stronger. In no time, my pajamas were exposed. My
hands went to my crotch, but it was too late. The tent of my 5" straight
out was obvious.

He smiled, and chuckled a bit more. His hands threw off the blankets, and I
twisted to the side, my whole face now hot. Taylor swung his legs over and
dropped from the bunk. His knees bent to squat, and his arms folded on my
bed. His face was near my torso, and he propped up with his fists. He
looked at me the same way I watch the garble spin in his wheel. He was
curious, but didn't try to touch me.

"Rocky, it's cool," he started. "I mean, I'm not trying to make fun of you
here. I mean, we all do it. Like, it's the closest thing to getting laid we
got, right now."

I yanked the sheets, with no blanket blankets, to my chest. His arms
flexed, and his body shifted. "You're uncut like me, right? I mean, Dad
kept us the same? I don't think I've ever seen you like, naked,"

I wasn't expecting that question. Absent of anything else, I nodded. I had
seen him naked, once or twice, but I was always too shy to look at
him. Well, look at him long enough to actually see him. "Yeah, I'm uncut,"
I whispered.

He shifted again, his right arm now below the bed. "Rocky, you wanna, you
know... compare?"

I didn't say anything. I DID want to compare. Taylor had been in my
fantasies forever; I wanted nothing more that to see what he was like, down
there. Now, if only my mouth could say it.

I twisted around to look at him, and my eyes pleaded. We had already
adjusted to the dark, and I could see the mild glow of his blue eyes. He
licked his lip a little, then reached out with his left hand. He began to
pull on the the sheets. I didn't stop him.

Without them, my hardness was apparent. I felt it throb through my
pajamas. It was now or never.

"Pull em' down, Rocky. Lemme see," his voice was cracked and whispered. I
swallowed hard, and closed my eyes. In a single motion, I grabbed at the
drawstring, untied my flannel, and yanked them down.

There I was. My full hard-on, fully exposed. The light from the window made
it clear as day. I couldn't look at Taylor. I didn't breathe.

"Rocky, that's... awesome!" his voice was low, but excited. "My turn! Ok,
take a look!"

He hopped up, and his own boxers tented out. He didn't hesitate. His hands
gripped and pulled, and there it was. His own uncut cock, hard, was less
than two feet from my face. I looked. I stared. I examined. It was bigger
than mine, by about an inch or so. He was uncut, like he said, but his was
so hard, the skin had pulled itself back. The shaft was thick, and looked a
bit veiny, and he was leaking a little. The tip glistened, and I couldn't
help but lick my lips. My throat was so dry, and I was hot in the face.

His head was above the bunk, so he twisted down to look at me. "So, uh,
what do you think?" I didn't speak, and couldn't move. My own dick
twitched, and I could feel the ache of several days of pent up need. He
leaned his hips forward a bit, and put a knee on the
bed. "Wanna.. compare?" he asked.

I didn't understand. We were both naked to each other; our dicks were both
hard. I had revealed myself to another, and my mind was already
racing. Seeing the man in my jerk off fantasies was already getting me
close.

My inaction was taken as a yes, to Taylor. He leaned completely under the
bunk, both knees now on the bed. His legs crawled toward me a bit, and my
arm was now between them. He reached down, and then, it happened. For the
first time, another person touched my dick! His hand was warm, and soft, as
he wrapped his fist around it. I gasped, and my eyes rolled back as he
squeezed me gently. I heard him sigh a bit. "Yeah, man. Kinda feels like
mine. Not as thick.. but, you're so warm..."

My eyes snapped back, and I quickly sucked in some air. He was holding it,
rubbing it slightly, examining it. I was so turned on.

He stopped moving his hand, and his knees slid into my ribs. "Rocky, go
ahead man, check mine out. I'm thicker than yours, you can tell."

I could feel his balls now, resting on my forearm. I pulled back, and found
my hand reaching to him. His dick felt heavy in my hand as I grabbed
it. Just like me, he leaned his head back and sighed heavily when my
smaller hands wrapped around it. It was sticky now, his pre-cum had been
dripping for a while. He was thicker than me, and his skin wasn't as
loose. I pulled a bit, and he moaned slowly. His hips moved forward a
bit. I liked the feeling. He began to rub me a little as well.

Soon, both of our hands were pulling slowly on each other's foreskin. I
could feel my balls getting tighter; I knew what it meant. I had to stop
him.

My hands left his body, and his head snapped back. He looked down to me,
pulling his own hands away. "What's wrong? Didn't it feel good?" he asked.

I nodded, and my body shivered. I was tingly, and I needed to cum - but it
was my BROTHER. I couldn't.. finish... with him touching me...

Again, he read my mind. "Little man, I uh, I'm pretty close. If you
want.. maybe we could keep going and, you know, compare how we finish?"

I didn't have to speak. He took both hands now, and bent over my body. His
strokes got fast and long, and I couldn't help it. I arched my back, my
body tight. I slammed my eyes shut, bit my lip, and exploded. 3 days of
pent up cum came flying out of my cock. I felt each pulse leave my body, my
ass completely off the bed, Taylor's hands still pumping more out of
me. "Whoa, geezus, Rocky!"

I opened my eyes to see Taylor's face, one eye closed, dripping with my
white fluid. I had cum right in his face! His smile mixed with a squint,
made me smirk as my body relaxed back on the bed.

He looked down at me, then licked his lips. My cum had dripped to his
mouth, and he... he licked it! His hand wiped down the rest, and then to
his mouth. I watched in awe as my cum, all three days of it, disappeared
from his face, from his hand, into his mouth. He lapped at his fingertips
like bbq sauce on his fingers. I didn't know what to say.

He spoke. "I sometimes eat my own," he shrugged. "Cleaner that way. Less
mess. Figured, might as well try yours. Not bad.. sweeter."

I gaped a bit. He liked... my spunk.

I felt him shift a bit, his own hard-on now throbbing. "You gonna finish me
now, little man? Not gonna take long..."

On instinct, I snapped to his junk. My body twisted, and both my hands went
to him. He had moved forward, and his own torso was now closer to my
face. I could smell his sweat, his sex. I was curious, and tempted. I
leaned forward.

His hand reached to me. I felt it slide behind my head, and without
warning, his unsheathed tip slid to my mouth. I was surprised by the
action, and began to protest. My mouth opened to complain, and was replaced
with his shaft. I felt him begin to slide in and out, and I didn't
fight. My eyes began to water, and I could feel myself gag.

"Holy shit, man. I've never had anyone... Rocky..." he urged. "Wanna taste
mine, buddy? I'm getting..."

But he didn't wait. I felt him tighten. His body tensed, his hand held my
head, and the first spurt of his cum hit the back of my throat. I coughed
and sputtered as he pulsed again and again, my head locked, and 3 or 4
inches of his cock in my mouth. I had no choice but to accept it, and my
tongue swirled around as I tried to make room for the load.

I could hear him, inside, flexing his whole body, his moans low and
deep. He shook a bit, and I noticed that even in the chill of the air,
Taylor had broke a sweat.

He fell back onto my bunk, his body spent. Letting go of my head, I turned
to cough a little. I could taste the iron and sharp bite of his seed on my
tongue. My throat immediately felt a little sore, not used to the thickness
of what he shoved into me. I looked at him, resting on his elbows, lightly
panting. I had sucked on him. I even swallowed. All of it. There was no
question. I had wanted it. When he caught his breath, he slapped my hip as
a 'good job', and climbed back to his bed. It was nearly 10pm, and I was
exhausted. I slept very heavy that night.

We didn't really speak about it after. In fact, we didn't talk at all most
of the next day. It wasn't until that night, when we both had to hit the
sheets, that he brought it up.

He came into our room, freshly showered. This time, he was wearing his
pajamas, flannel like mine. I was already in bed, and I faced the wall. I
wasn't sure what to say him, and well, I was a little embarrassed by what I
did. What I... let him do. Even more so, I was scared. Was he mad at me?
Was he ashamed? I mean, hadn't he asked ME to compare?

He flicked off the light at the desk we shared, and I felt his foot on my
bunk as he hopped up to the top. He shuffled a bit, then, nothing. The room
was quiet, and my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the moonlight through the
windows shades.

In the midst of silence, he cleared his throat. "Rocky," he croaked. I
didn't speak. "Little man?"

I twisted in my bed. I didn't say anything, but sighed loudly. He got the
hint.

"Can I come down? I think... we should talk."

I sighed again. He hopped back down, and slowly, he slid into my bed. My
back was still turned; I felt him touch my shoulder. "I really..."

He stopped. His hand slid down my shoulder, now resting on my rib cage. I
could feel the heat of his back against mine; his body was twisted to face
me, and the weight of his arm on my body made me feel hot. I started to get
hard as he spoke. "Uhm, so... here's the thing. I... I like guys. I always
have. And, uhh, when you - well, when I compared - when we... Argh,"

Taylor was stumbling. I softened my body a bit, and twisted around. His
hand, once on my hip, had fallen to the side. I took a breath, and put my
own hand on his leg. He was scared, like me. Had I misjudged the situation?

"So yeah. I mean, you know there's not a lot of ways to... date anyone. And
you know, I mean, you know what people think of fags... I am not sure if
you liked, you know, what we did," his words were slow. I sat up, and he
edged a bit closer. "I mean, I liked it. A lot. I know it's wrong, but what
we did was amazing, and I was always hoping you would let me see you, you
know, hard..."

I listened as he started to ramble. He told me how he only thinks of guys,
how he's always wanted to see what it's like. He continued on about how
hard he gets in the gym at school, and how no guys would understand; how he
always thinks he'll be alone.

As I listened, it occurred to me. I've been thinking many of the same
things. I felt a boldness in my blood. He was fidgeting so much now, and he
wouldn't look at me. But I knew. We were the same. I had to tell him
that. No, I had to show him.

With both hands, I reached out to him. I pulled him down to me, my grip
tightening on his shoulders. "Rocky, what are you-"

His lips slammed into mine. I kissed him. I had no idea what I was doing,
but I closed my eyes and made contact. My arms extended around him, and
before I knew it, his whole body was on top of me.

We made out. We pulled our shirts off. We twisted around the bed. Our
bodies rubbed and slid against each other. Hands explored our chests,
backs, the arches of our necks. I felt his hands cradle my ass as my own
hardness pushed into his pelvis. Our breathing was heavy, and our
exploration was intense. It was 15 minutes before we came up for air.

Finally, he pulled off me, and we both laid flat on the bed. I had no idea
where the blankets had flown off to. And, somehow, my pajamas were
missing. Now naked, I decided to speak. "I don't know what this is, bit
I'm... I want more of it. I've been... I have been in love with you for as
long as I can remember,"

My words got caught in my throat, and I stopped. Taylor looked into my
eyes. I mean, deep. He was so close to me, his hair fell into my face. "I
don't know what it is either, and I know it's not, like, right. But I don't
care. You want me? I want you."

From that one sentence - a mere 3 words - "I want you" - time slowed
down. Our clothes came off. Our kisses got stronger, deeper. Taylor,
stronger and more experienced, took me into his arms, twisted our bodies
together. We touched each other again, our hands moving in time, our dicks
both hard and responding. With our shoulders touching, we both felt each
other, both pumped each other. He felt up and down my body, and when his
hands got me close, he slid down to me. For the first time in my young
life, I felt the hot, wet, slick feel of his mouth. I tensed immediately,
and my orgasm screamed through my body. My cock pulsed into his mouth, and
he moaned as one, two, three pumps filled him. He held me inside until I
was spent, and my own torso stopped gyrating into him. He slid back up to
me, his smile wide, and whispered, "geez, you cum a lot!"

I laughed. Then he laughed. We stared up at the top bunk, and soon, things
got foggy. I fell asleep shortly after. When I awoke, Taylor was there, his
strong arms wrapped around me. It was 4am; time to start the chores. We
dressed for breakfast. We didn't speak that morning, but this time, I knew
we didn't have to. On a small farm like ours, some things don't need
explanation. Sometimes, you don't need other options.


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Like it? Email me.  justwriting@soniq.org