Date: Mon, 27 Oct 2008 16:57:34 -0400
From: John Ross <spanningset@gmail.com>
Subject: A Sexual Youth -- Part 1 (M/b/1st)

Everyone's mother knows a guy that causes them to warn their
pubescent son, in the most general terms, to be wary of when they
are around. This is a story about William (that man) and Luke (me at age
12).

In the summer of 1977 my family moved from Georgia back to my
parents home town in North Carolina. The move was prompted by
my father's mother failing health. They thought it best to be
near her, and as soon as possible we moved back to NC. I, the
little dude from the big city of Atlanta, found myself in the
middle of rural hell -- barns, fields of tobacco, tractors, RFD
brunswick stew nights, with little to do and even less to hope
for.

My paternal grandparents ran a small gasoline station that was
located across from their house. The station was really a
forerunner of the convenience store -- they sold gas,
groceries, and some dry goods. Frequently they sold on credit
to the farmers and their help. It was not a lucrative
operation, but they made do.

It was the only store for about 10 miles around and so served
as a social hub, especially on Friday evenings. The farmers,
each in their Red Camel overalls and musty from the fields,
would enjoy their 'pack o' nabs' (if your from NC you know what
I mean!) and coke while they shot the shit on the front porch
of the store.

On the same piece of land as the store was a nice little home
that my grandparents rented out, a large barn, a small garden,
and a fenced-in area. All of perhaps 3 acres; the remains of my
great-great grandparents 1000 acres of land (that money and
social prestige was long gone by the time I was born -- the
only vestige of wealth was the love of education that my
parents imparted to me and my siblings).

When my grandfather passed away in 1972 my grandmother sold the
store, house, barn and all to a retired military officer who
ran the store and lived in the adjacent house. In 1976 my
grandmother fell ill with cancer. While my parents wanted to
move back to help her, the issue of jobs and income prevented
them from moving back. My father and mother took turns living
with my grandmother when needed. So it went for a year.

Things changed in 1977. Frank -- or Colonel Sanders to the
locals -- decided he wanted nothing to do with the store, and
hearing of my parent's plight offered to sell them the store
and property. My parents took him up on his generous offer and
so the story begins.

I was towheaded 12-year old in 1976. I used to wear what was
euphemistically called 'big boy' sizes -- I was not fat, but
rather pudgy. I played soccer (in 1976!), football, and loved
to run. My body was changing and the pudge was fast
disappearing. I was quickly turning into a gangly and clumsy
boy in the throes of puberty.

I was (maybe) five foot tall and 100 pounds, blonde hair, blue
eyes, and with just the hint of pubes developing around my all
too average cock. I can remember, quite distinctly, the first
time I noticed that I had pubic hair. I was sitting on the john
playing around with my pecker and thought I felt something. On
closer inspection I was like "WOW...Holy Shit..Goddamn
straight---I'm a fucking man now!" After pulling it off (the
hair)I returned to my smooth boyish appearance. I vowed not to
do that again.

That was a Big Day. That was the day my sexual youth began. It
was a shame, so I thought at the time, that such a discovery
would be followed by the news that I would be living in the
middle of nowhere with no one but my self to explore this thing
called sex.

After moving in I settled into a routine of helping out at the
store, helping out with my grandmother, and having lots of time
to explore the area around our home. Besides the barn, there
were woods, open fields, cold streams, many barns, and even a
few neighbors with kids that would, eventually, fill my days.

Within half a mile of our store there were maybe 30 homes. Old
farmers, young farmers with families, single folk, and then
there was William.

William was a lay about. Folks thought he was a bit off. He
always had a two day growth of beard, rarely bathed, and had
long finger nails yellowed by the tar of countless Pall Mall
filterless cigarettes that always dangled out of his mouth. In
1977 he was maybe 55 years-old.

There was one thing that William was good at: He was an
excellent musician. He played a mean piano and picked the
banjo. Because of his talent people tolerated William. Had he
had any ambition perhaps he would have made something of
himself. Or so I thought.

My mother was a very good amateur musician -- piano mostly. It
turns out the when she was 10 years old William had been her
music teacher. He had been popular music teacher. But then he
had a nervous break-down and simply began to lay about. He
lived four houses down from us.

Several weeks after moving in, early in the morning, William
payed us a visit to say hello. In the south it is not unusual
for brothers and sisters to run around in home in just
underwear. Our family was no exception. I woke and, in just
briefs, went out to get some breakfast. It was only after
getting the cereal and heading to the table did I notice our
guest.

While I was aware that I had only briefs on, I figured that as
long as I'm sitting at the table, no one would be bothered,
least of all me. My mother introduced me to William. He offered
his hand and I shook it.

My mother had an odd expression on her face -- an expression
that I have come to understand meant 'Get some clothes on you
idiot, your in the presence of a molester'. I continued to eat
and listen in on the conversation. Basically they talked music.
William ask if he could play the piano as he no longer had one.
My mother agreed and they moved to the living room.

My mother returned and told me to get dressed and quick. I was
like, 'O.k. let me finish this and then I'll go.' She was
insistent and emphatic, 'Lou, get dressed, NOW.' So I got
dressed and returned to my now (as I had feared) soggy cereal.
After finishing up I went in to listen to William play. He was
quite good, though he played mostly what I considered hillbilly
stuff.

After some small talk William began to take his leave. About to
leave he turned and ask if it would be o.k. if he took his
banjo and played it at the store. Mom told him to ask my dad.
After he left my mother lectured me about being careful around
older men now that I was developing. She was insistent that I
not be alone with William.

Well that certainly piqued my interest.

William spoke with my dad and he agreed that he could play his
banjo whenever he wanted -- provided he didn't annoy the
customers. William turned out to be a big hit with the locals
-- at least with the methodists. The baptist were, in our neck
of the woods, the primitive type. And so it went for the
summer. William would play on Fridays and my dad would give him
a bit more credit than he could ever repay.

Across from William's house an old, and I mean old, long
retired farmer lived. He could no longer mow his yard and so I
took over the up keep of his yard for a bit of cash.

I noticed that William was watching me -- that 11 year old
towheaded boy in grass stained sneakers, levi's cut-offs, and a
damp tee-shirt -- out of his living room window. That made me
curious and so I started watching to see when he would spy on
me. He spied on me a lot. His attention made me, in a rather
undefined way, very horny. Especially because my mother had
warned me to stay away from him. Why would she say that? What
ever the reason, I has these butterflies in the pit of my
stomach and a boner in my pants every time I caught William
eyeing me.

The yard I mowed was big (an acre or more) and with only a push
mower, that July Carolina heat would take its toll. One day I
was hot and sweaty and decided that I would pay William a
visit. I had no clue what I would do. It was like some kind of
sexual instinct (though I would not have seen it as that then)
guided me to William's front door and compelled me to knock.

After a few minutes he came to the door and with a smile ask me
if I needed something. I told him I was thirsty and asked if I
could get a glass of ice water. He said sure and invited me in.
His house was small. A kitchen, a living room, two bedrooms,
and a bathroom. Maybe 800 sq feet.

He ask me to sit on the couch and then left to get the water.
He soon returned and gave me the water. Then he sat down
directly across from me with his own glass of water. He said
something to the effect, "Hot weather, you look exhausted". I
responded politely, "Yes".

He then went on to praise me for helping out the fellow across
the way. He said it was "nice to have a young man around the
area that could help out others." I drank.

He then began to talk about his youth. I was, and am, a good
listener and I am always interested in other peoples stories. I
was at the time reading about the great depression (I was
precocious in that way), the WPA, etc., and so I began to ask
him to tell me some things about life during that time.

He proceeded to describe his family and their lot during the
great depression. He was from a large family of farmers --
three brothers and 4 sisters, all about a year or so apart.
They were poor before the great depression and even poorer
during the 1930's. He began to talk about how they had to move
to a two bedroom house and how the kids had to all sleep in a
large bed -- all seven of them. His story started to turn
sexual, and I started to get butterflies.

He ask me if I'd ever seen my sisters naked. I told him that I
had. He then ask if I'd ever messed around with them. I told
him no, not really. I'd never thought about it. He said before
they moved to the small house, he had never really messed
around with his brothers and sisters.

But when they began sleeping together, it was only natural that
hands would fall in the wrong spots. The youngest sister was
seven, the oldest brother was seventeen, and he was thirteen at
the time. He then told me about the first time he had seen a
pussy up close -- his ten year-old sister -- no hair,
completely bald, ended up on his face one night as they were
fighting for space in the cramped bed. He told me that pussy
smells good and when there is no hair it tastes better. I
started to get a bit nervous, but not freaked out.

He then went on to talk about plumbing. He said that we had it
easy now. Back when he was growing up they had only outhouses.
Cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and you'd better watch
out for the snakes. When he mentioned the snakes he lightly
grabbed his crotch. When he was 12 (did he know I was 12?) he
told me that he used to spy on his brothers and sisters while
they were in the outhouse. "That's how I learned about bodies",
he said.

Talking about outhouses and drinking water was making me want
to take a piss. I thought to myself, "should I ask him to use
his bathroom?" He then went on to talk about all the games that
the boys in his family used to play. He ask me if I played
games with my brother. I said no. I decided then that I wanted
to show him my cock, like he used to show his cock to his
brothers and sisters. But how could I show him?

I mustered up the courage and ask him if I could use the
bathroom. He said of course and stood up to show me the way. It
wasn't hard to find -- Stand up, take a right and your there.
The bathroom was small and he was standing in it. He said feel
free to use it "any time you need to". I replied with a thanks.

He was not leaving the bathroom and I really needed to pee. I
had lost my courage. He finally left and closed the door too.
But it bounced back. He said the door was broken and did not
close all the way. I said no problem. I proceeded to fish my
cock and peanut sized balls from my levi's. A few wisps of hair
could be seen. I pissed a serious stream.

Then, dick in hand and vaguely horned up I had no idea how to
proceed. And so after a minute William ask if I was ok. I
responded "Yes". He started to come to the door and I put my
young cock back in the levi's and zipped up as he walked in. I
smiled and thanked him for the water, conversation, and
bathroom break. I then said I'd better get back to mowing the
yard. He told me to come back anytime. I said I would.

After finishing up the yard I went home and found that I had a
constant boner in the shower. I could not get rid of it. I
should say that at this point I had never cum. Indeed I didn't
even know what that was. I used to jack-off a lot. I discovered
jacking-off as I soaped myself up and got a boner in the
shower. I played with my hard cock for a year before I came the
first time. I always jacked-off with soap. Had you met me at 12
I would have been the cleanest 12 year old you'd ever seen.

I would always get to point of cumming, but that weird feeling
would scare me, and so I would stop. After my first visit with
William I was jacking-off much more often and starting to get
frustrated.

"What the fuck is so good about this", I'd say to myself.

This went on for about a month and I decided that I'd had
enough, I was going to see if William would let me in on some
secrets. So I made sure that I wore the shortest shorts I could
find the next time I mowed the old dudes yard.

The next Saturday was great for my ploy: Hot, Humid, with a
chance of a storm. Sure enough, as I mowed, I saw William from
his window spying me. After about an hour, a storm started to
approach and I decided to head to Williams house for cover --
and a bit of education.

So I headed over and, even before I knocked, William opened the
door and asked me to come in. I did. He even has some water
near the couch.

"I saw you coming over and thought you'd want some water".

I said thanks and proceeded to gulp the water down. Not a
minute later and clap of thunder announced the arrival of a
good Carolina thunderstorm.

"Better make yourself comfortable" William said.

"Sure" I said and took my position on the couch. He sat down
across from me. He was wearing bib-overalls and a plaid shirt,
I was wearing very short shorts, tennis shoes, and a tee-shirt.
After a few minutes of resting, I ask him to tell me some more
stories about his life. I laughed and said something cheesy
like "were the outhouses really that bad when you were growing
up?"

That got the conversation started and he proceeded to talk
about skinny dipping with the boys. I ask if he ever swam with
girls and he said "no, just boys". I began to get bolder. I
asked him if they had lots of hair "down there". He said, "some
had lots, some had a little, and some had none". Again, trying
to think of something coy, I said "well I'm between none and
some" and tried to chuckle. He played along.

He ask me if I'd ever seen my dad's dick. I said I had. He then
ask if I'd ever seen it hard.

I said "no, why?"

He replied "that's how you can tell how big yours will be".

I then ask him if he'd ever seen his dad's.

He said, "all the time -- if you look inside overalls, you'd be
surprised by what you see" and laughed. To this day I love
overalls. Then I ask how he learned about sex.

He replied, "well like all farmers, you help with the breeding
of cattle and horses -- and then you ride your sister like a
donkey!" He laughed at this, and then began to tug on his
crotch.

I decided it was time to take a piss. I asked if it was ok to
use the bathroom and he said "sure". So I went to the bathroom,
but this time I left the door wide open. Rather than pulling my
cock though my fly, I pulled my shorts down under my cock and
began to piss. As I was peeing, William walked past to the
kitchen, and he saw for the first time my kid cock. Pee
prevented it from getting hard though.

After I finished peeing I just stood there with my cock out.
Not really hard, but not flaccid. I heard William coming back
and tried to will a boner. No success. I was horned up, but not
hard. William came to the door and ask if everything was ok. I
said "yes". He then looked at my cock and then at my face and
said "that's a nice cock Luke. One day you'll make a girl
happy". I said "thanks" and stood their rather sheepishly.

I then made my move. I ask William if the stories about the
outhouse were "really true"? He said "of course they are". I
then said (as my cock hardened) "so you think you might show me
some of the things that you did at the outhouse"? He said "of
course" and came over and took my 3 inch cock between his
fingers -- yellowed nails pressed up against my wisps of hair
and I shuddered. This was the first time someone other than
myself was touching my (now) hard cock. He tugged it a couple
of times and rolled my balls around and announced that we
should go to his bedroom. I said sure.

In his bedroom he placed me against the wall and ask me to pull
my shorts down. I did.

Now picture this : A 12 year old, shorts at his ankles, tan
line distinct, wispy hair surrounding his throbbing 3 inch
hard-on, and without a clue about what to do next.

William then asked me the simple, but profound question, "have
you ever cum?".

I replied "what do you mean"?

He then described to me jerking-off and an orgasm".

I told him that I had jerked off, but never cum.

He then said, "well I'll show you how to come"

He then proceeded to jerk me off. Slowly at first, and then
building up to a faster pace. This went on for probably 3 or 4
minutes -- but it seemed for ever.

And then it started. I had this odd feeling in my belly and I
started to get weak kneed. I then began to convulse and I
swooned; he had to catch me from falling. I came in a blast --
a jet of cum -- shot from my cock and stained his overalls. I
was completely disoriented and had to lay down to compose
myself. After a minute I started to laugh and laugh like I was
stoned.

I was like, "so this is what I've been missing."

William laughed and said "yeah".

I pulled my shorts up and went back to the couch to wait out
the storm. We were quite. Then, about 5 mins later I realized
that I had not seen his cock. I ask to see it and for him to
let me watch him cum. He said lets go back to the bedroom. We
did.

He dropped his overalls and out popped a huge flaccid cock --
it looked like a python to me. Of course I was so small and
excited it was probably a normal, albeit, thick cock. I held it
in my hand and jerked it some. He was not able to get hard, but
he let me play with it for as long as I wanted.

After a few minutes he was able to get it hard and then started
jacking it fast. Laying down on his bed he ask me to play with
his balls. I did, and within a minute he exploded all over his
belly and my hand. A thick white stream of cum. Ropey and
smelling of pine pollen.

After he cleaned himself up, he said I could come over anytime
and play. I said thank you and left. It would be six years
before I came back.

I was a freshman in college and returned home to visit my
grandmother. I saw William walking down the street and decided
to pay him a visit. When I knocked he came right to the door
and ask me in. The house was exactly the same as when I was 12.
Once the door was closed I asked him if he remembered me. His
said of course, "I bet your cock is bigger now" and then asked
me to his bedroom. As I was getting naked and hard I said sure.
I ask him to get naked too and he did.

His cock was indeed hung. It was seven inches flaccid, thick,
and he had bull balls that hung a few inches away from his
white pubes. He couldn't get it hard. He said its because of
his diabetes. I still wanted to play with it. He let me, and
try as I could, I could not get him up. I told him it was a
great cock nonetheless. He thanked me and said he wanted to
play now.

I told him I wanted a blow job this time. He obliged by getting
on his knees and having me sit on the edge of the bed -- his
balls rested on the ground. He begin to suck on my hard college
cock -- now just shy of 7'' and surrounded by hair, and that
musky teenager smell.

As he sucked my cock, I ask if he liked to rim. He looked
puzzled and said "what's that?" I asked him "if he liked to
stick his tongue up little boys asses when he was younger?" He
said, "of course, I did that all the time."

As I laid on my back and hiked my legs, I told him to "fuck me
hard and deep with your tongue." He did as he was told. He
fucked my (still cherry) ass, sucked on my balls, and licked my
fuckstick like mad.

Soon enough I shot a huge load that flew over his head and hit
the wall at the very spot I had first cum six years before: The
student had become the teacher.

Over Fall break I was horned up and decided to pay William
another visit. The house was shuttered, no one home. I thought
it odd, but headed over to my grandmother's for dinner.

After dinner we sat on the swing of her porch and whiled away
the time. Finally I ask her where William had gone. She turned
to me and said, "That kook? He died a couple months ago of
diabetic stroke." That was that.

Silent, we sat and listened to the whippoorwills call out into
the black night.