Date: Mon, 12 Apr 1999 10:34:58 -0500
From: lakesman@runestone.net
Subject: DEJA VU

				  Deja Vu

I'd never cruised this particular spot before.  Although it wasn't far away
from the small town where I grew up, I didn't know it was there when I was
living in the area.  Besides, I never imagined cruising when I was a
teenager.  I was too busy trying to make everyone think I was straight.

I'd heard about this spot from someone else who grew up in the area, so
when I had occasion to return, I decided to check it out.  I pulled into
the parking lot late in the afternoon and was disappointed to see that it
was deserted.  Bob had said it got hot just before and after dark.

I left my car and wandered into the men's room.  It felt as if it was going
to be a cool evening.  I was pleased that this particular men's room was
clean, unlike like many I've used in city parks.  I was also pleased to see
that the glory hole between the stalls was still there and the viewing hole
between the first stall and the urinal was still intact as well just as Bob
had described them.

I took the first stall, dropped my pants, sat down and prepared to read the
book I brought along in case things were slow.  I was glad it was a good
book because I read a chapter before anything more interesting came along.

I got up and moved to the picnic table outside two different times to
stretch my legs.  Finally as it got too dark to read outside, I moved back
into that first stall.  The one dim ceiling light was just enough for me to
read by.  I was really starting to get into the book, the latest sci-fi
novel by my favorite author, when I finally heard the door open.

I watched through the viewing hole as a young stud, somewhere in his late
teens or early 20s, pulled his cock out of his pants and began to take a
long piss.  When he finished, he shook the drops off, but then, to my
delight, began to play with himself.  In seconds, his 7-1/2 cock stood out
from his body with a slight upward curve.  Then he hauled his balls out.
They were beautiful!  full and loose, with a few blond hairs sprouting from
them.  He proceeded to stretch his balls and give his cock a few more
strokes.

I couldn't help myself, I licked my lips and said, "mmm-mmm."  To my
complete disappointment, the blond stud was startled at the sound of my
voice.  In seconds, he had stuffed himself back into his jeans, zipped his
fly and bolted out the door.

"Oh well," I thought.  "It was pretty while it lasted."  I went back to my
book, but something in the air caught my nose.  It was the smell of cow
barn.  That young stud was a dairy farmer (or a dairy farmer's son)!

My most painful and poignant memories came floating back to me.  When I was
15 years old, I had fallen deeply in love with a farm boy a year older than
me.  Since my parents had moved shortly thereafter, I had stayed that
summer and the next on Marty's farm.  We were the closest of friends; spent
every day together and slept every night in the same bed both just wearing
cotton briefs.  He even let me curl up against his beautiful body. as we
drifted off to sleep each night.

His very stern, demanding father, however, had been scared by a gay cousin
years earlier, and so had instilled deep and powerful homophobia in his
son.  I've never been more consistently frustrated in my life!  I tried
many times to gain access to the treasures hidden in Marty's briefs, but
there was no way he would let me.  The funny thing was, he never got angry
at me for trying.  Still, to be so close physically and mentally with the
boy of my creams, sorry that's dreams, and yet not be able to consummate my
love for him was such torture!  I must have had almost a quart's worth of
wet dreams in those two summers.  Eventually Marty and I parted company
after an argument over some stupid thing, I can't even remember.  I still
miss him.  I'd give a lot to be close to him again...

My reverie was interrupted as the door opened again.  This time the person
went right to the second stall, dropped his pants to his ankles and sat
down.  I looked through the glory hole and was delighted to see that it was
the same farm-boy I had seen before.  He had leaned back on the toilet with
his legs stretched out in front of him, slightly spread, and his shirt
pulled up.  He was playing with one of his nipples as he slowly stroked his
cock.

I watched the show he was putting on, then put on my own for a couple of
minutes.  "Come on over!" he said in a loud whisper.  That was just what I
had in mind.  I really like full-body contact with a sex partner rather
than just mouth to cock.  I pulled up my pants and moved into his stall.
He had pulled up his legs and was sitting almost lotus-style on the toilet.

When I stepped in, he grabbed my cock, but I pushed his hand away at first
so I could lean over and give him a hug.  He responded by pulling me close
to him and leaning forward so I could put my arms behind his back.  It felt
so good to be hugged close by this gorgeous young stud, and that persistent
smell of dairy barn that never quite showers off just added to the
sensations of the moment.  I wanted to suck this kid's beautiful cock!

I lifted him off the toilet seat and he put his feet down to trade places
with me.  His gorgeous dick head hit me right in the nose leaving a wet
droplet of precum behind.  I pulled his cock down and touched the tip with
my tongue, savoring the sweet taste of the next drop that had already
gathered at the tip.

Then I started on his balls.  The skin of his ball sack was soft and loose
with just a scattering of hairs.  I nipped at it with my teeth, licked it,
sucked it and finally took each nut into my mouth and sucked on it.  Then I
took both nuts, caught them between my teeth and pulled on them, stretching
his ball sack as far as I could, while he moaned, "Oh yeah, man, suck my
balls!"

Then I started to lick the bottom side of his rod at the base and worked my
way up to the head, just like it was a big all-day sucker.  It dug my
tongue into his piss slit and then dived down to swallow him whole, causing
him to moan in pleasure.  I held him tightly in my mouth, sucking and
swallowed several times, massaging his cock with my throat. "O God!" he
groaned.

I grabbed his tight butt and kneaded both sides very firmly while I started
very slowly to move in and out on his shaft.  I dropped one butt cheek and
reached up to pinch his nipple, then massaged his pec very firmly.  At the
same time, I used my other hand to reach beneath his balls and began to
massage the base of his cock.  I pulled gently on the hairs I found there.

I could feel his cock beginning to swell as he moaned louder and louder.
The sounds he was making began to grow desperate and rose in pitch, almost
to a cry as his cock began to shoot an incredible load of warm, sweet cum
down my throat.  He grabbed my shoulders tightly to steady himself as his
knees began to buckle.  His cock kept throbbing for several minutes as I
continued to suck on it and massage his balls, while he ran his fingers
through my hair and massaged my neck and shoulders.

Finally, he locked his hands under my arms and pulled me up into a powerful
hug.  The warmth of him as we held each other tightly mingled with the
smell of sweat and cum and barn were overpowering.  We pulled apart and
just looked at each other.  There was something in his grey-blue eyes,
something about his face, something deep within him that seemed weirdly
familiar.

"Nobody around here sucks cock like that!" he said.  "You are so good!"

"Thanks," I said, returning his grin.  Then, much to my surprise, he pushed
me aside and sat down.  He reached up and grabbed my cock in his hand.  "I
can't believe it!" I thought to myself. "This stud is actually going to
return the favor!"

"God! I love red cock hair!" he said as he swallowed me whole.  Evidently
he'd been paying attention to everything I had done, because he did it ALL
to me.  When I came, he took every drop.

I was exhausted, but I didn't want to lose this moment.  I pulled him up
and we hugged again.  "You are so beautiful!" I whispered into his ear.

"Thanks!" he said. "That was so good!  You're very hot and very tasty for
such an old man!" he said winking at me.

Normally, I would have been ready to part company at this point.  Ever
since my teens and my first love that didn't amount to anything, I'd never
really felt anything for another guy.  I just needed to get off every once
in awhile.  There was something stirring in me that I couldn't explain.
"What's your name?" I asked.

"Marty." He replied without hesitating.  "What's yours?"

"Dan." I said. I paused for a moment wondering what was happening to me,
then asked, "Could I buy you a cup of coffee, Marty?"

"Make it a coke and you're on." he replied.

We jumped in our vehicles (he was driving a fantastic old pickup).  He
followed me to the Perkins at the other end of town.  As we settled in the
booth, I kept looking at him.  There was something so familiar about this
kid!

"What are you looking at?" Marty asked.

"I don't know what it is," I said.  "It's like I know you from somewhere,
but I can't put a finger on it.  Do you know what deja vu is?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Well, it's a little like that, but not quite." I commented, still trying
to make sense of what I was feeling.

"That's funny, Dan," he said.  "I'm feeling a little like that, too."

"Are you from around here?" I asked, wondering if he'd trust me enough to
say.

"Yeah, I'm from Andersonville," he said.

"Really!" I responded.  "That's where I grew up!  Well, at least until high
school.  My family moved before I started high school about 30 years ago.
I spent that summer and the next living on a dairy farm with my best friend
and his family."

"Oh my God!" Marty almost shouted. Then he said much more quietly, "YOU'RE
DAN!"

"Yeah." I said.

"Dan, I'm Martin Anderson, Jr." he said, extending his hand.  "It's great
to meet you!"

I shook his hand.  He had very large hands and a great, warm grip.

"You're Marty's son?" I asked him, my head spinning.

"Yeah, Dan!" he said smiling. "How about that!"

"Marty, if your dad knew what I just did with his son, he'd kill me!" I
said.

"You're probably right, Dan." Marty replied, still smiling. "But don't
worry, he hasn't got a clue about me.  He's the most homophobic person I
know."

"I guess I'm not surprised," I said.  "I'm afraid I really scared the shit
out of him."

"Well, yeah, between grandpa with his stories and you wanting to make love
to him, he was scared and confused.  He still is," Marty said,
thoughtfully.

"You mean he told you about me?" I asked.

"Sure!" Marty said. "He tried to use you to scare me the way grandpa used
his cousin to scare him." Marty replied.

"I guess it didn't work," I said smiling.

He smiled back and said, "Well, when I was younger it did, but as I got
older and dad kept up with his stories, I started to get curious and
excited by them.  He told me every detail.  He couldn't seem to tell them
enough.  It was like he was trying to exorcise a ghost or something.
Finally I decided he was trying to convince himself more than me."

"What was he trying to convince himself of, Marty?" I asked.

"That he didn't love you.  That he didn't want to respond to you.  That he
wasn't sorry,... isn't sorry he never did."  Marty answered sadly.

I felt as if someone had just stabbed me through the heart.  An old
familiar emptiness opened up inside me.  Tears began to well up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dan!" Marty said. "Are you OK?  The look of genuine concern in
his eyes melted my heart the rest of the way.  He reached out and touched
my hand and the tears I hadn't cried for 30 years began to flow down my
face.  "My dad really hurt you, didn't he?"  Marty asked.

"Yeah, he did, and himself too, the way it sounds." I answered softly,
trying not to fall completely apart.  I was wondering why things in life
get so screwed up sometimes.  Neither Marty Sr. nor I had ever been the
same again after we were almost together 30 years before.  I felt just as
bad for him as I felt for myself.  It hurt me to think that someone I loved
so much had been so unhappy when I would have given anything to have him
back; to make him happy.

Marty Jr. and I just sat there for awhile in silence.  "Listen Dan, do you
have anywhere you need to be tonight?" he asked, snapping me back into
reality.

"No," I replied. "Do you?"

"No," he said. "and I've got an idea.  There's a motel next door.  Why
don't we get a room?"

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Marty answered.

We left the restaurant and registered at the motel as father and son.  Once
we were in our room, Marty started to take off his shirt, then asked, "How
were you and dad dressed when you slept together?"

"Just in cotton briefs." I said. "That upstairs bedroom was hotter than
hell in the summertime. What did you have in mind?"

"Just strip down to your underwear and climb in bed with me." Marty
answered, jumping under the covers and smiling broadly.  "Which side did
you sleep on?" he asked.

"The left," I replied.

He slid over and threw back the covers.  "Now snuggle up next to me and put
your head on my chest, just like you did with my dad." Marty instructed.

As I lay close to Marty Jr. taking in his scent, my head on his chest,
feeling the warmth of his body next to mine, the tears started to roll down
my cheeks and onto him.  I'd spent 30 years trying to block out how much I
loved Marty's dad and 30 years trying not to feel how much I'd missed him
every day.  Marty just took it in stride and held me tighter.  As my tears
began to subside, Marty whispered gently, "If things had gone the way they
should have, Dan, what would have happened next?"

I grew breathless at the prospect.  I reached down and brushed my hand
across Marty's briefs.  I could feel his hardening rod bulging beneath the
soft white cotton fabric.  I began to knead and rub his cock as it rose to
my touch.  Next, I played with the soft hair below his navel and slid my
fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts.  The warmth of his throbbing
cock felt so wonderful, so natural in my hand.  I reached down to massage
his balls.

Marty moaned softly, "That's right, Dan, do whatever you wanted to do with
my dad."

I slid up to kiss his cheek.  He turned and we kissed full on the lips.
Our tongues began to explore each other's lips and mouths.  My heart began
to pound.

This was only the beginning of what became one of the warmest, sweetest,
most affectionate, most healing nights of my life.


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