Date: Sat, 03 Apr 2004 17:08:29 -0700
From: Joseph Farrin <bigblaise@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Summer of Three Boy Cocks

It was Saturday morning.  I had slept late and I was in the kitchen
drinking my first cup of coffee and having a bowl of cereal when I heard
the mailman come up on the porch and put some mail in my mailbox.

Junk mail for the most part, but also a letter from an attorney in Beaver
City, Nebraska. The letter was to inform me that as the only heir of my
paternal, great grandfather, I had inherited his farm, including the house
and outbuildings, furniture, vehicles and farm equipment in addition to all
his monies and other properties.  I wondered how in the hell the attorney
had traced me.  It had been years since I'd heard from John, my great
grandfather.

Since it was Saturday, the guy wouldn't be in his office so I found my
atlas and looked up the location of Beaver City, Nebraska.  It didn't look
exciting.  Suffice it to say it was a dot on the map near the Kansas state
line and roughly half way between Blow Torch, Texas and Twenty Below,
Montana, probably with the worst climate characteristics of both places.  I
sure as hell wasn't intrigued with the name.  A straight guy I worked with
was always full of talk every time he hooked up with a new girl friend and
would brag about what a wonderful "beaver" she had.  The first time he used
the term I had to ask him what the hell he was talking about.  It was his
term for a girl's pubic hairs -- yuck, yuck, yuck!

The teen-age kid next door ringing the doorbell interrupted me.  I knew
both parents must be away for a while and when that happened he was always
quick to trot over so we could mess around.  I loved it.  He was a
good-looking young kid named Kevin - tall, slender, long brown hair.  His
best, most captivating, feature was his bright, blue eyes; I loved to watch
them, and his whole face for that matter, when he was horny and especially
when he was engaged in a sex act. There was absolutely nothing that Kevin
liked better than sex with another guy, especially with a guy somewhat
older than he was.  By the way, I am 27 years old.  It was really a special
treat to watch the kid as he was climaxing.  When I'm jacking off I can
always cum when I start thinking about his eyes.

He had a super dick for a kid -- 6 inches, good girth and a nice cockhead.
The skin on his shaft was fair and smooth, completely free of veins, no
pronounced circumcision line and his head was a nice shade of pink.  His
hands were nice, too, and I loved to watch them as he played with his meat
or played with mine.

My cock is a lot like Kevin's only an inch longer and the cockhead is kinda
funny, I think.  It isn't formed in such a way that it's easy to describe
with one word.  The best way to picture it is for you to grab your dick,
and with a finger placed near the head and on the bottom of the shaft, pull
back on the shaft and your cockhead will sort of flatten out over the end
of your shaft - that's what mine looks like all the time.  Kevin liked mine
as much as I liked his.  This morning I think I have what is going to be a
surprise that he'll be very pleased with.

Last night I was tired and didn't go out to any bars, so I stayed home and
when I got out of the shower, I shaved my pubes and my balls.  I liked it
-- it made my dick look even bigger than it was.

As always, it didn't take but a few minutes of conversation before Kevin
made his first move, reaching down into the front of my pants, and saying
"Anything up down there?" or something similar.  He grabbed my shaft and
really didn't notice I'd shaved.

"You gonna shower, I'll shower with you if that's OK?"

"I showered last night.  Think I'll skip it for now and wait until
evening."

"I'm kinda raunchy.  I haven't showered since Thursday."

"Don't worry, Kevin.  I like you when you're a little raunchy. I love to
stick my nose down in your boy crotch and smell it. In fact, it turns me
on."

"Sometimes I think you're weird."

"I think everyone in the world is weird, to one degree or another, so
what?"

We went to the bedroom.  Kevin always remarked how much he liked getting in
the sack with me, especially when the bed wasn't made and we were all cozy
on the same sheets I had slept on.  When I raised my butt off the bed and
he pulled down my pants and my shorts, his eyes immediately got that wild
look.

"Holy Shit, Joe, you've shaved your pubes off.  Why did you do that?"

"I thought you might like it.  It looks bigger now, somehow.

As he was stripping, he said, "I love it, I absolutely love it", and after
kicking his jeans down to the foot of the bed he got up on one elbow and
had a close-in look at my naked genitals, licking and kissing them all over
-- fondling me until I was rock hard, as was he.  Kevin always liked for me
to go first, so I wasted no time in getting down to the business of sucking
him off.  Sucking him was a real pleasure, not only the looks and taste of
his beautiful boy cock, but also because he got so excited and so hot.
Despite all that, Kevin was one of those guys that didn't cum easily.  He
was just a hard one to make shoot.  Of course, this just increased and
prolonged my pleasure.  When he finally did make it, the experience must
have been unbelievable for him -- his body would jerk, his cock would swell
up and he'd pump out an incredible amount of sweet, boy cock juice.

Monday, I called the attorney; his name was David Bentley.  The estate
turned out to be a farm with the house and other improvements, where John
had lived, plus another sizable piece of land that he leased out.  The
money, he described as nothing spectacular, probably roughly $100,000
depending on the value of some of the stocks he had.  Shit -- that seemed
sizable to me and I decided to spit my job, go down and have a look at the
properties rather than have him just send the legal papers I needed to
sign.  When I got back and told Kevin about it and that I intended selling
my house here and moving down there, he had a fit.  He didn't want me to go
and asked when school was out in a couple of months if he could come down
and spend the summer helping me.

There was stuff to do with the house.  I knew that John at one time had a
woman who came in once a week to clean after he had taken ill, but I could
just imagine that she did a minimal job.  It needed a good cleaning out and
then some painting and wallpapering.  So, I agreed to waiting until Kevin
was out of school.  Shit it would be fun to have Kevin for three months --
teen cock every night -- it got so I could think of nothing else and was
really elated when his parent agreed to the plan.  That night, when he came
over to tell me he'd gotten the OK, we celebrated with a hot session of
cocksucking.  Too, we mulled over and agreed on a plan whereby I would wait
until Kevin was out of school in two months, I might as well wait until
then to sell my house and take him to Nebraska with me.

The two months passed quickly.  I had everything packed, not that I had a
lot of furniture.  Although, I did have a couple of new, really great beds,
including the king sized one I slept in.  The house was listed with a
realtor, Kevin's parent's had keys in case of an emergency and we left late
afternoon of the day the moving van had everything loaded.

We got as far as Yuma, Colorado and checked into a nice motel, ate dinner
and picked up some beer.  I thought we'd watch TV for a while but Kevin had
other plans.  The kid was so fucking horny I couldn't believe it. After
three beers he just went wild.  We jumped into bed and his boy cock was
more swollen and hard than I had ever seen it.  Again, unusual for him, he
started on my cock first -- it was usually the other way around.  I blasted
off in a hurry; he turned around and jammed his swollen pole into my mouth.
This was one night he wasn't difficult to bring off -- he was on his back
when his legs shot up and over my shoulders, he crossed his legs lower down
and squeezed my head between his legs just as he erupted -- his cock was
like a cannon that had been fired and his sweet juice poured out from it
and into my mouth with such force and in such quantity that I had a little
difficulty in swallowing it.

He uncrossed his legs and literally collapsed on the bed with me atop him.
"Oh, Joe, that was indescribable.  Thank you."

"Damn, I've never seen you so fucking hot!"

"I know.  Just knowing I was away from the rents for three months, free to
be with you, it just got to me."

"If you're this hot every night, I might not last through the summer."

"Don't shit me, Joe.  You're a horny bastard and will take all you can
get."

"The truth comes out -- so that's what you think of me?"

"That's what I know of you -- why the fuck do you think I was so desperate
to spend the summer with you -- you handsome, hot, horny cocksucker.  Lets
have a few more beers and I bet we can do it again -- especially if I kiss
you and get you all horned up again."

Kevin had not been into kissing, when he grabbed me, pulled me down and we
sucked face for a long time before he turned me loose.

"Did you have a problem with your parents over your coming with me?"

"Not my mom, but with my dad."

"What happened there."

"He out and out asked me what the attraction between us was."  I said we
were just friends, that's all there was to it.  He said he'd take my word
for it but asked if I'd have a separate room.  I told him you had described
it as a huge, old farm house with 8 or 9 rooms, so we might not even be
sleeping on the same floor."

"You mean you actually lied for me?"

"As it turned out, I was prepared to but didn't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"My dad told me to never let you touch me in any way that was offensive to
me."

"So, I replied that we'd been friends for four years, ever since that first
summer I'd mowed your lawn and you'd never touched me in a way that I found
offensive."

The conversation ended abruptly when he stuck his now hard again cock into
my mouth and for the second time within a few seconds I took him all the
way.  He returned the favor. As soon as I discharged my load, I collapsed.
God was I tired -- it had been a long day.  I left turning off the bedside
lamp and that stuff to him.  The last thing I remembered was his throwing
his arm around me -- it was the first time we had ever spent the night in
bed together.

The next afternoon, late, we arrived in Beaver City -- the attorney had told
me in the event his office was closed, he'd leave an envelope with keys to
John's house and truck with the cashier at the Home Café.  We found the
place with no difficulty, found clean sheets, although they were a little
musty from having been in the linen closet, so we made the bed, slung the
bedroom windows open and went back to town for some beer and something to
eat at the Home Café.

I had never lived in a small town but had heard a lot of people describe
the experience, which turned out to be all too true.  Everyone was curious
as to who you were and what you were doing in Beaver City -- the boldest had
no qualms at even asking very direct questions, which I learned to love
ignoring -- it was none of their fucking business, really.

Going back to the farm, I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water and
noticed a note on the counter from David Bentley.  He had left bread, eggs,
bacon and milk in the fridge as well as Corn Flakes and coffee in the
cupboard at the far right.  Also, he invited me to lunch tomorrow -- call
him for the time and place.

To my surprise, Kevin was still all fucked out and tired from the motel in
Wray.  So, we cuddled, went to sleep and I woke only once to close the
window because there was a lot of thunder and lightening, which turned into
a rainstorm.  One, good nights sleep fixed him up and restored his sex
drive.  When he woke up and as soon as he'd waddled off to take a leak, he
was ready for it again.

How things had changed.  Our chances of having sex used to depend on the
absence of both of his parents.  Now the only thing it depended on was how
long it took a teenaged boy to recover from his last climax.  That was OK
with me.  I could swallow his love juice as many times as he was able to
pump some out the end of his teenage cock.  Oh how I looked forward to the
coming summer in Beaver City -- Kevin's boy cock would more than compensate
for all the shortcomings of the town.

Most women and some men like to get fucked by a penis; both like to suck on
a penis.

What puzzles me is - why is there so little written, so little recorded on
film about just looking at the male penis?

After all, the male sexual organ is not only the symbol but also the
essence of manhood and male virility.

It is a beautiful thing to look at -- flaccid and hanging down between the
legs or erect and protruding.  In the erect stage it is indescribably
erotic, arousing and totally magnificent, with the scrotum, hanging behind
the penal shaft, with it's highly aroused testicles inside, and the
cockhead enlarged and gorged with blood, ready to discharge a gift, unique
in the world, to anyone who can bring it all the way to climax.  Yes, it is
indeed a wonderful sight to just look at.

Actually, we didn't know where to start on the house.  John didn't have a
desk, so I started with the dining room buffet and found a lot of papers in
there, including some old stock certificates and I didn't know if they were
of any value or not so I put them all in one place to show the attorney.
There were several built-in bookcases full of old books, all on the musty
side -- so we decided to start by just throwing a lot of stuff away --
throwing it out the back door into a wheelbarrow and starting a burn pile
out between the house and the barn, after the books it was packages of food
that had been opened, but unused.  We burned that right away, as I didn't
want to attract rodents.  Then it was his old clothes.  Next were old, worn
dishes, photo albums, basement junk -- some burnable and some not.

Kevin took a real fancy to the hayloft.  He'd never spent any time on a
farm and, for that matter, he liked poking around all the old, out
buildings.  Every afternoon, he wanted to take our afternoon break by
grabbing some beers from the fridge and going up into the hayloft, getting
naked, drinking a few beers, messing around for a while, usually followed
by some kissing and eventually getting down to masturbating each other
simultaneously or sucking cocks.  Getting a lot of sex seemed, among other
things, to sharpen our sexual needs. By the end of two weeks we were both
good for three climaxes every day.  We both felt so free doing it -- there
was so much privacy out here and he had no parents to worry about.  He
opened up a lot, talked more to me everyday about how he'd started
experimenting with a couple of friends from school, how it drove him crazy
the way I'd look at him before anything happened between us.  How much he
liked my genitals and how my making him climax was the most exciting thing
that had ever happened to him.

Unfortunately, our second week was to be our last week.  His dad called and
told him he had changed his mind and wanted him to come home as soon as I
could drive him back. I had Kevin call him back and tell him it was
impossible for me to take him home for a week.  Kevin, despite being a good
student, is a quiet, laid back guy for a teenager but when he got off the
phone he started cussing.  I had never heard him cuss before, but he knew
all the cusswords I'd ever heard plus a few I hadn't.  He was so angry with
his dad; ultimately he began to cry and I had a hell of a time calming him
down.  I finally had him get into bed with me and I wrapped my arms around
him, held him close, ran my fingers through his hair and told him how much
I loved him.

We decided to get away for the week and go to Omaha.  I found some rent
boys and we pigged out on sex.  The most exciting one was a young black guy
with a sort of chocolate milk colored skin, black, mirthful eyes and a cock
that was out of this world -- an 8 inch masterpiece of man meat that, when
flaccid, arched out over his balls, before it hung straight down.  I let
Kevin do the honors with him and I just masturbated as I watched them.  He
was a good cocksucker for a kid and was able to take most of it into his
mouth.

Of course, the experiences we had kept us all horned up and we had an
incredible week crowded with sex between the two of us.  It was two weeks
later before I heard from Kevin.  I had given him $500.00 -- he really had
worked hard all the time he was with me.  He was calling from a cell phone
that a friend of his had and he was calling from the friend's house.  His
dad wouldn't let him phone me; was convinced that I had been in the boy's
love hole.  I didn't really understand where the dad was coming from --
Kevin was good looking, but all boy at the same time.  His voice had
changed and it was as deep as mine, and people sometimes remarked, even
during a phone conversation, that I had a very deep voice.  I certainly had
never been tagged as being gay, either.

His dad made him go to a doctor and, among other things, get a test for
HIV.  The test was negative and the doctor told his dad that Kevin had a
tight sphincter and there was no evidence whatever that he had been
molested.  Then the dad got on his case because he never dated girls.  The
main reason for his call was to tell me that his dad wouldn't let him call
or write and he wanted my e-mail address and told me he had an Internet
e-mail address, too, with a name no way indicative of his real name and a
complicated password.  It was safe to correspond by e-mail and to be on the
safe side he would delete all my mail immediately after he'd read it.

I really missed the kid and got absolutely nothing done for a couple of
days after getting back home. Finally, I decided to get started on some
interior painting and wallpapering.  There was no paint store or building
materials outlet locally, so Wednesday morning I took off in John's pickup,
which I really loved driving -- I'd never had a truck.  I went to Holdrege
and found an old-fashioned paint store.  A 16-year-old boy, the owner's son
waited on me.  He was full of questions -- what surface was I painting over?
Did I know how to measure for wallpaper?  I knew he sensed I was totally
ignorant about painting and wallpapering, so he volunteered to drive down
and look at the house Sunday afternoon, even though he knew I lived quite a
good distance from Holdrege.

So, meantime, I went home with some paint, brushes, rollers, trays, paint
clothes and other stuff sufficient to get a start.

Sure enough, Sunday afternoon he drove up; he caught me working and wearing
only sneakers and a cut off pair of jeans -- which, believe me, I had cut
off very short -- not that I had anything specific in mind when I cut them
off.  The kid's name was Pete and he had a ton of wallpaper books for me to
choose from.  He helped me measure the rooms, told me the quantity of paper
required depended upon how the pattern matched.

I asked him if he wanted a beer, which we drank while he went through the
books making suggestions for the various rooms.  He was a total blonde and
good looking as hell.  He last name was Swanson, so I assumed he was
probably Swedish.  His jeans weren't cut off but they were sure as hell
tight and I saw him erect while we were sitting facing each other. I had no
shorts on and I knew he was able to occasionally see one of my balls or the
end of my cock several times when I spread my legs.  Before too long, Pete
asked if he could have another beer, so I went to the fridge and grabbed
two more cans.  When I returned he wasn't in the room where we'd been
talking but called and said he was back in the room I had identified as my
bedroom.

Thinking he was probably re-measuring or something, I went in to see if I
could help him.  Holy, fucking shit, he was in bed, on his back, naked and
playing with his beautiful, well-hung cock. I had my cut-off jeans down on
the floor and stepped out of them in record time.

"Don't get into bed yet, just stand beside it.  I was looking at that thing
-- what I could see of it - now I want to take a good look at the whole
thing."

"Well, I've been curious about what you had, too.  And believe me its very
nice, I love it."

"Yours, too.  Your cockhead is enormous; get in bed so I can play with it."

As things turned out he had masturbated with a couple of high school
friends and not much else.  We spend the best part of an hour in bed and
before he got up I had given him his first, full-fledged blowjob and,
following my example, he went down on a man for the first time in his life.

"God, Joe, I'm glad you and I did that together.  I know I'm gay but really
didn't know what to do.  I knew they fucked and I wasn't quite ready for
that.  What we did was so good.  I loved it.  Thanks."

"Thank you Pete.  I loved every minute of it.  It's not often I get to take
a young boy's virginity and it's something every man dreams of.  Can I kiss
you?"  He didn't reply but just pulled me over and started French kissing
me.

"What else do guys do with each other?"

"Actually there are a lot of minor variations to what they can do --
involving different positions -- that sort of stuff. I have some male porn
videos that portray some of the stuff if you want to watch them."

Eager to do so, we went to the living room, still naked and for the first
time I got a chance to look at his long legged, slender body with a dusting
of fine blonde hairs on his arms and legs and the extent of his blonde
"beaver", which was absolutely beautiful.

As the video progressed, he became fascinated with a guy fucking his
partner's mouth and wanted to try it.  I leaned back on the couch and
rammed a couple of pillows under my head.  I told him not to do it too
hard.

He was gentle and varied his strokes between long and short ones, between
quick and slow ones and shallow and deep ones.  He caught on right away
(well, what is there to catch on to, really?).

He got me so excited because he kept up a constant dialog -- "Oh God -- I've
never wanted to fuck a pussy even though guys are always talking about
doing it.  Nothing could be better than this -- your mouth is so warm and
wet and it feels so good when you close your lips around it."

As soon as he delivered his "cocksucker's reward" he collapsed atop my
chest and I let him rest for a few minute before I pushed him aside and
mounted him.  I was totally erect and so hard that it was almost painful.
As he had done, I filled his mouth first with cock and ultimately with my
love juice.

On leaving he explained my wallpaper selections were from several sources,
some very prompt, some not so prompt.  Anyway, he'd call when they arrived,
come down the following weekend with paper hanging equipment, which they
rented, and he'd get me started with my project and I could pay him then.
I walked out to his car with him, he grabbed me and kissed me and said:

"Oh, Joe, there's no way I can thank you enough.  In a few short hours, you
have taught me what I've been dying to know for years."

With that he kissed me and groped me through my pants, said goodbye and got
into his car, honked and waved as he pulled out onto the road to town.

Saturday he called to tell me the wallpaper had all arrived and he'd be
down Sunday afternoon again.  He had all the necessary equipment, showed me
how to measure the paper to allow for pattern matching, cut, paste it, hang
it and trim it at the ceiling and the baseboard.  It was a good thing he
did, as I really didn't have a clue.

Later, about half way through with the first room, I was sick of it and
pooped besides.  It was up and down the ladder and things progressed slowly
with just one guy doing it.  I thought my legs were going to be permanently
cramped.

When Pete was sure I had the hang of it, he stepped up on the ladder until
his face was even with my crotch, undid my shorts, pushed them down and
sucked me off while we were still on the ladder.  Well, he sure had a good
imagination and the exercise got me off in record time.  He got down and
went to the kitchen, coming back with a couple of beers, walked over to the
couch, laid down and stripped off his jeans.  I couldn't refuse the
invitation, so I joined him.

That, of course, ended the paper hanging for the day.  After another round
of beers, Pete said:

"Joe, remember that video last Sunday where the two guys were sucking each
other at the same time and you told me it was called 69?

"Sure."

"After we finish our beers and rest awhile, I want to do that, OK?"

"It's definitely OK -- just say when."

Well, we did it, right there on the couch. And did I enjoy it.  His
teenage, smooth cock and his blonde pubic hairs were all a cocksucker could
ask for especially when it was rock hard with desire to cum.  Pete was
totally beautiful and his love juice was totally delicious -- what else
could it be when it came from such a beautiful cock.

That finished it.  He had to split but said he'd keep checking up on me. I
told him to send me another gallon of the paint I was using on the kitchen
walls via UPS and put it on my charge ticket.

A week later, on a Saturday evening, Pete called and wanted to know if he
could come over and bring a couple of friends and just hang out for a
while.  I got busy, went to the local store and bought some steaks -- not
knowing how many friends were coming I got six T-bone steaks, fixings for a
salad and some potatoes that I could fry.

Two of the friends, both Swedes, were from Holdrege -- one, Chris, was real
sexy looking and the other was too close to being obese to be good looking.
The third one, which he explained to me later, had recently moved from
Holdrege to Beaver City.  From his name I judged him to be of German decent
-- it was John Mueller. What a fucking sexpot he was but kinda the silent
type.  I knew he was 5'-10" because he was the exact same height as I
was. He had really short, jet black hair -- not a crew cut, but like ˝ inch
long and a pale, cream colored completion. He was wearing a red T-shirt,
very worn jeans and sport shoes that could nly be described as
down-and-out.  He was so fucking thin you could read some of his bone
structure, like his shoulder blades, right through his T-shirt.

After everyone had grabbed a beer and migrated to the TV, Pete motioned me
out on the back porch.

"Joe, I appreciate this.  We just needed a place to hang out and let loose.
The two guys from Holdrege are straight.  But I'm 90% sure John's gay.
I've never had him, but if anybody could find out, it's you.  So watch him.
I've seen his cock and he is hung big-time."

"Shit, Pete, he looks like a fucking kid."

"He is.  He's 14 but skipped a grade back in elementary school so he was a
freshman in high school last year.  This fall he'll be a sophomore, can you
believe it?

"Only because you just told me.  I'd never have guessed it."

In a way I wished Pete hadn't told me that.  I was instantly horned up and
had to really watch myself that I didn't become too obvious.  Half an hour,
or forty-five minutes later, John walked out the back door and eventually
headed toward the barn.  It was still light outside, probably a half hour
from sunset.  I had no clue as to what he was doing, but I grabbed my
cigarettes and two beers and went to find him.

"Hi, Joe.  Hope you don't mind.  I was just looking around.  I've grown up
in rural areas but I've never spent any time on a farm.  I love this barn."
(He made me think of Kevin with that remark.)

"I just inherited this farm and like you it's my first experience on a
farm.
  I kinda like the barn and outbuildings myself."

"You live here by yourself?"

"Yea, and its kinda lonesome at times.  I saw you walking out here and
brought you a beer."

"Thanks."

"Want a cigarette?"

Shit, I was so boned up that I prayed he didn't notice it.

"Joe, how do you get up to the loft?"

"There in the back corner is a ladder. Want to see it?"

"Yea, please."

I threw open the doors where you hauled hay up to the loft and we stood at
the edge of the floor looking out.

"Wow!  I'd like to piss out the door and see how far I could piss, do you
care?"

"Shit, that sounds like fun, I'll join you."

I saw, for the first time, his cock.  It was as pale skinned as his body,
at least 6", probably a fraction more when erect.  A magnificent, purple
colored head capped it. Either he was cut or his skin pulled all the way
back -- shit, I didn't want to get caught staring.  He really had to go and
it took him a long time to empty his bladder so I got a fair look at his
boyhood.

Well, that was that.  Nothing else happened and we went back to the house.
>From then on he was more talkative and told me he was having a bad time
with his mom and he was very stressed out but glad Pete had brought him
here tonight.  It kinda got him away from it all for a little while.  He
also helped me fix the salad, barbeque the steaks, clean the potatoes,
grease a pan and get them on the grill before the steaks were done.

He was sure a nice kid; he volunteered much the same information about
himself that Pete had given me.  He opened up to me quite a bit and I
really enjoyed the closeness and our chat, as well as his extreme good
looks, long fingers and how polite he was.  Everyone just helped themselves
to the beer, but he always asked if he could have another one.

About 10 o'clock every one split and I settled down to watching TV.  At
10:30, I heard a car drive up, turned on the porch light and saw that it
was Pete's car. I assumed he had forgotten something.  He jumped out and
came up on the porch to tell me that when they took John home there was an
old suitcase and a paper bag at the curb plus a note with two words: "Good
Bye."  John was a mess; Pete didn't know what to do and asked me if John
could stay with me for a few days.

I followed him back to the car, helped him and John get the suitcase and
bag out of the trunk and they took off.  I threw my arm around John's waist
and walked with him back to the house.

"Joe, I'm sorry."

"Hey, guy, remember I told you it's lonely out here.  I'm glad to have you.
I really am."

Once inside, I told him I thought he needed something stronger than a beer,
went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Hennessey's Brandy and
two snifter glasses.  I know.  It was wrong giving liquor to a kid but he
had been drinking beer so I smoothed my conscience by telling myself that
at least I was not the first one.

He took a long time sipping the first one, but asked for a second one,
which I poured a little more generously.

I excused myself and told him I was going to get some clean sheets from the
linen closet and make him a bed in the second bedroom.

"Joe, please don't.  I don't want you to go to a lot of trouble.  Can't I
just sleep with you?"

"Sure you don't mind?"

"I'm sure."

Well that's where we ended up and I knew I wouldn't sleep a wink.  Kevin
and I were too used to grabbing the other's genitals whenever the desire
hit us and I sure didn't want to do that to John on the very first night.

Of course I watched John undress.  He took off his T-shirt, jeans, athletic
shoes and socks and that was all he had on.  He crawled into bed naked --
the way as I always slept.  Oh my God.  It really was going to be a
sleepless night for me.

About three in the morning I got up to piss and returned to bed (being
summer, there was already enough early-morning light that you could see).
I was quiet, as I thought John was asleep, even though he had changed
positions and was now lying on his back.

After two minutes, though, John said, "Joe, are you asleep?"

"No, I've just gotten back in bed, I had to get up and take a piss."

"I can't sleep."

"I'm sorry.  Probably being in a strange bed, that sort of stuff."

"And more."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I caught you looking at me in the barn.  Do you ever fool around?"

I rolled over toward him, threw my leg over his body, put my hand on his
chest, and found his mouth with my lips.  I never did answer his question
with words.

He took my hand and moved it down to where his cock was sticking straight
up from his body.  Well, it wasn't sticking straight up.  The kid had a
bent down cock.  I whipped the sheet back.  I just had to take a look at
it.  I had seen pictures of guys with bent cocks and had developed a real
fetish for the bend down ones.  God, it was magnificent.  I had never seen
a cock that so instantly and completely turned me on.  It was totally hard
and the head just peeked a little bit through a little opening at the tip
of his foreskin.  You could see the exact size and shape of his head -- a
nice helmet cockhead. It had grown a little, now that it was erect.

"Jack it off for me and then I'll jack you off."

I'd rather suck it.  Is that OK?"

"I've never had a blowjob but I hear they're out of this world.  You can
pull the skin back over the head, it's loose, but it will stay there when
you get it behind the rim of the head."

Taking a thumb and a forefinger, I slowly pulled back on his shaft,
watching in amazement as more and more of what was now a very large, deep
purplish-red, helmet shaped cockhead slowly emerge into view.  The very
sight of it filled me with a lust that I'd never experienced the likes of.
The sight of it and the knowledge that I was soon going to be taking it
between my lips made my 7" cock throb with excitement.  John did not help
when he reached down and grabbed my dick, saying, "I love your big, cut
cock, it's beautiful."

"It pales in looks in comparison to yours, John.  You are truly a work of
art especially when it's erect and on your thin, pale skinned body.
Believe me, it's the hottest cock I've ever seen."

I started out slowing, intending to make this, my favorite pastime last --
sucking on a boy cock making it want to give me its love juice.

"Oh my God, Joe, I've never felt anything like this in my life.

Every time I varied the technique by even the slightest, he would ask,
"What are you doing now?"  Getting no verbal response he finally lifted
himself up on his elbows and watched me.  It was obvious he needed to cum
from the first moment he spoke to me and cum he did, all too soon his teen
juice flooded into my mouth in a quantity I had never experienced before.

Without saying anything, he turned around and began sucking on mine.  I
needed it as badly as he had and I too shot off quickly.  He hadn't done it
before, that was obvious, but he followed my example and swallowed.

We then started French kissing for what seemed like a good ten minutes,
before our lips parted.

Relaxed, we both fell asleep and it was almost noon before we woke up.  The
first thing I did was roll over on my side to face him and wrapped my hand
around his beautiful boyhood.  "That's quite a cock for a 14 year old."

"It's beautiful.  I especially like the head."

"So I noticed when you were sucking on it."

"You aren't angry with me for doing that, are you?"

"Hell no, Joe.  I can't wait until you do it again.

I told him to shower and I'd make coffee and start breakfast.  When he came
into the kitchen, he had on his jeans and that's all.

While eating, I said, "I hope you're planning on staying a while."

"I don't have anywhere else to go, if you don't mind."

"Mind -- God I'd love it"

We started unpacking his clothes, of which he had the minimum amount.  Most
of his stuff needed washing so we put it in the washer and I showed him
where to hang his stuff and what dresser drawers were empty, so he could
use them.

Shortly after 1 o'clock the phone rang.  It was Pete.

"How's John doing?"

"OK, he's going to stay with me."

"So."

"So what?"

"Come on Joe, you know what I mean.  Did you get him?"

"Yes."

"Come on, Joe, give me some details."

I told him what had happened after he had left and he said, "Jesus, I'm
jealous.  You're making me hard just hearing you talk about it."

Chatting with John, I discovered that he had really had a rough time as a
kid.  His mother hardly cooked anything to eat and when she did it was
barely editable.  (That explained his thinness, which eventhough I found
sexually exciting, I intended to get him fattened up a little.)  Another
kid, one that lived down the block aways, had cut his hair.  He didn't want
to call his mom, said she didn't give a shit that's why she just left his
stuff on the curb, turned out the lights in the house and either went to
bed or went out somewhere.

"Joe, I don't have any idea of what I would have done had I not been with
Pete.  He was so angry with my mom, he wanted to go down to the sheriff's
office and report her.  The sheriff would probably have forced her to take
me back and reported her to the child abuse authorities, but I didn't want
to go back.  I've had enough of her.  Pete right away suggested coming back
here.  Thanks, Pete, I really needed you and you came through for me."

"John, I really would like you to stay with me.  Will you do that?  Would
you just think of it as your home and me as a big brother, or something?
Are you sure you don't want me to call your Mom and tell her where you are
and that you're OK?"

"No Joe.  She wouldn't be interested and I don't want her to know where or
how I am."

I moved over closer to him on the couch and wrapped my arm around his
shoulder and pulled him toward me.  We sat this way with our arms around
each other until John moved his face close to mine and kissed me.  I could
see that he was almost in tears.

Joe, I think you're still pretty well worked up and you said you didn't
sleep last night.  Why don't you take a nap and when you wake up I'll fix
an early supper?  While you're napping, I'll take your clothes out of the
dryer and throw your shoes into the washer.  I've heard that you can wash
them eventhough I never have tried it.

I took his clothes from the dryer, and decided to iron them.  Thinking he'd
help me with the paper hanging, I just folded his oldest pair of jeans and
ironed everything else including his T-shirts and put them on hangers.  His
jeans I also ironed after a spray of fabric finish.  They looked a lot
better.  Then I did his three sport shirts and the one shirt he had that
had a collar and long sleeves, again spraying it with fabric finish.  When
he saw them he said that was the first time any of his clothes had been
ironed.  He thanked me and said, "Joe, you're the first adult person that
has ever shown any interest in me."

"John, can I tell you something?"

"Shoot."

"I know it sounds impossible, but I love you."

"Joe, do you mean that?"

"I really do."

"I really want to stay with you and I'm glad you love me.  I love you, too.
I guess I do -- I've never really loved another person, but I know what it's
supposed to feel like and I feel that way."

We hugged and kissed and we both started to cry.

Monday, we didn't do anything.  I didn't want to get into the wallpapering
right away, although he saw all the paper, paint and tools on the back
porch and said he wanted to help me when I wanted to start again.

Midweek, taking a break from the papering, I called David Bentley, the
attorney and told him what had happened.  He said everybody knew everyone
else in town or had at least knew of them.  He said he knew John's mother
by sight and where she lived.

I told him I wanted to adopt John.  He said it would be a wise move if he
was to live with me and if the mother would give her consent.  If I didn't,
I couldn't enroll him in school; if he had to go to a hospital sometime, I
couldn't get into his room, as I was not the next of kin. I told him to
offer her money if she was resistive.

Two days later David called back to report that he had seen Mary Mueller
and she agreed but he didn't get down to money because she wanted $20,000."

"How the hell would she know I even had that kind of money"

"Joe I didn't even ask.  I knew why. Remember I told you everyone knew
everyone else in town.  Well they also know everyone's business.  I figured
she'd obviously read the legal notices I had to put in the paper regarding
your grandfathers' estate.  Everyone knew he had money and was very frugal
with it.  Figure it out from there by yourself.  You've got the money Joe,
that stock you left with my secretary last week.  I checked with a broker.
It was purchased in 1930 during the depression and is now worth $80,000.
Since you had to pay estate taxes, I suggest we get the name changed on the
stock certificates and you just keep it for a while.  So, what do you want
to do?

I'll come into town tomorrow; get a cashier's check made out in your name
and you can give her one of your checks.  I'd rather not get one in her
name from the bank.

I understand and that's an acceptable method to handle it.  I'll have the
necessary papers typed up and take them over to her tomorrow, with the
money.  By the way, and you don't have to respond, but the woman said the
boy was quote "A fucking queer little bastard.  You probably were, too, and
anyone that would take him in had probably already been in his pants."

I didn't respond, eventhough I somehow felt that David would have
understood; Instead I asked another question.  "David, you quoted that she
used the word 'bastard' in describing John, is she really his mother,
having the right to let me adopt him?"

"I asked her that very question John. She went into the bedroom, brought
back a bible and handed me John's birth certificate with her name as mother
and some guy I'd never heard of as the father.  Maybe they weren't married,
or at least not to each other.  So the answer is yes, she is legally his
mother and has the right to let you adopt him.  I'm going to include in the
papers I'll prepare, text that says she is unable to properly provide for
the boy as one reason for allowing the adoption."

The following morning, John and I went to town and I went first to the bank
and then the David's office.  John waiting in the truck both times as
neither of my business transactions took very long.

I waxed back and forth all the way home wondering if should or should not
tell John what had happened.  Finally I decided it was the only thing to
do.  Then the awful thought hit me that maybe he didn't want to be adopted.
So, on the driveway beside the front porch, I told him I had something to
tell him, kind of ask him, maybe.  So I blurted it out that David was
arranging with his mother for me to adopt him, if he would like me to do
so.

He didn't say anything, just looked at me as though he couldn't believe
what I'd said, grabbed me, kissed me and things progressed rapidly from
there.  We ripped off each other's shoes and clothing, threw them on the
floor of the truck and literally attacked each other's body, especially the
genitals.

I looked at him with the same expression he had just looked at me.

"Holy shit, you've shaved your pubes (he as yet didn't even have hair on
his little balls).

"I liked yours so much and I wanted mine to look like yours."

"Let me look at them."

I got out the driver's door; he spread out on the seat and lifted his legs,
held them and spread them wide apart.  Again, the sight of his genitals
threw me into a fit of passion.  His little ball sac was snuggled up
against the bottom of his shaft and being shaved I could see what I always
wondered about when I was a boy and first started playing with myself and
called, for lack of a better name, a seam. The seam was raised a small
amount and ran, in a perfect line from the extreme back and rear of his
sack all the way around to where it connected, in front with his cock.  It
was evident even though he sack was covered with horizontal creases from
having shriveled up to hug his dick.

I told him what I was looking at and he giggled saying I sure seemed to
like every small detail of him down there.

"Yes and some of the details are not so small.  You've got an impressive
hard-on and I want to pull your foreskin back before you get so hard it'll
move back of its own accord."

"Do it and suck it.  God, It's almost like we just got married and are on a
honeymoon.  Damn, I can't believe how hot you can make me."

Once his beautiful, purple cockhead was fully exposed I was too hot to do
anything other than what he had told me to do.  The whole thing disappeared
between my lips and there was no way that I could make it last.  His body
bucked up off the seat of the truck and his boy juice streamed into my
mouth.

One he was finished with his climax. He pushed himself off the seat, sat on
the sill of the doorframe and took mine into his mouth.  Luckily no cars
passed on the rural road in front of the house before he brought me to a
very intense climax.  I was still standing, barefooted in the gravel, in
the doorway of the truck, with John's arms wrapped around my legs and his
head resting on my stomach and his right hand wrapped around my cock, when
it happened.  I saw a car coming down the road headed toward town and
hollered at John get back in the car and I no sooner was in and slammed the
door when, as seemed the custom here, the guy driving by honked and
waved. John burst out into laughter.

"Oh what an exciting ending.  We about got caught with our pants down
fooling around on our honeymoon.  Were you worried, Joe?"

"Just a little.  We damn near blew my ever adopting you."

"I don't want that to happen.  What can I call you after the adoptions
complete?"

"Introducing each other to outsiders, I suppose you should refer to me as
your guardian and I'll refer to you as my adopted son.  Alone you can call
me anything that would make you happy."

Well, most of the time I'll probably just keep calling you Joe, but do you
know what I want to call you when I want to go to bed with you, or have us
just even start some sex play?"

"I have no idea."

"Would you mind it if I called you "My fuck daddy"?

"Not if I can call you "My boy toy".

"It's a deal and I want to tell you I'm so glad my fuck daddy has a big
hard dick all the time.

"And, I'm so glad my boy toy has a big, hard, bent down dick that keeps me
so excited that I can't believe it.  And, I'm so glad you shaved it.  It's
beautiful."

John's cock was not the only beautiful thing.  Our lives became beautiful,
always filled with laughter, horsing around, kidding each other.  Honestly,
he made me feel like a teenager again.  It was that way all day every day --
it didn't matter if we were painting or paperhanging, driving to town in
the truck, watching TV or cooking supper.

He told me everyday, it seemed, how happy he was, how much he loved me, how
carefree he felt and I always told him that was exactly how I felt, too.

One Saturday, Pete called and dropped by in the evening with Chris, the
good looking of his two Holdrege friends from his last visit.  When we got
a few seconds to be together in the kitchen when he was getting another
beer out of the fridge, he told me he had become very thick with Chris and
they saw each other a lot; it was made easier because both his parent's and
Chris' had stamped an OK on their friendship.

He continued with how impressed he was with John, who seemed to be a
totally different, happy, smiling guy that was fun to be around.

I told him how much I appreciated his being a friend to John and how glad I
was that he brought him back to me the night his mother gave him the boot.

He told me he had told Chris about me and he wanted to know if we could all
get into something together.

"Pete, I'll always remember our times together.  You're beautiful, hot,
sexy and as they say "Good in bed", but it's a thing of the past.  I've
told you I'm adopting John.  I love him so much -- even down to small things
like lying with my head on his chest or his stomach and listening to his
heartbeat or his stomach gurgling, digesting food.  Pete I never knew you
could love a another person so completely -- I feel responsible for him, I
feel protective of him, I don't want to share him sexually and I'm sure I
speak for him in that regard.  Too, I think of him as a tender, young,
living being that is my duty to care for, nurture, love and help grow."

"Joe, you're some guy.  God, I love you.  I'm so glad for John.  The kid
was so withdrawn and quite.  You've opened him up.  It's more than obvious
that he is in love with you, too.  You make me jealous.  I hope someday I
meet a man who will feel the same way about me."

I kissed him on the cheek and said, "I know you will -- like the first guy
that sees you for what you are."

"John walks in to get a couple of beers, kisses me right on the mouth,
turned to Pete and said, I've got the greatest dad, even if he's too young
to be my father."

With that he walked back into the living room and Pete and I followed.

The summer absolutely flew by.  We finished the house except for the
outside, which could wait until next year.  One Saturday we went to
Hastings and brought home a ton of new duds for John.  I let him pick them
out as I was sure he knew what he wanted, what were the dress fads at
school.  For the first time in his life he had 3 pairs of new shoes and
some underwear.  He was one happy kid, afraid that he'd spent too much of
my money, but I assured him the next time he called me "Fuck Daddy" I'd
extract payment in full.  He loved going to the small supermarket with me.
It came out the steaks I had cooked on the barbeque the first night he came
out with Pete were the first ones he'd ever had, so we always bought a lot
of different steaks, roasts, chicken breasts, French bread, pastries, you
name it.  One of the first things I did was go to a local merchant and have
him bring out a large freezer to put on the enclosed back porch.

We even took off for a week (I wasn't farming the property, no one was.
That was something I had to address as I didn't want to be a farmer) for
Denver, Vail, Breckenridge and some of the other known resorts in the
Colorado Mountains.  It was the equivalent of the 'honeymoon', that John
had joked about.  It was also a honeymoon in another respect -- we had more
sex in that one week than I'd ever had in my whole life -- all of it so good
that it just made us both crave more.

The best sex we had, though, was the afternoon we got back home about 4PM
and went straight to the bedroom.  We had both become very attuned and
sensitive about the other's sexual needs -- guess it was one of the many
benefits of living together.  John stood in the middle of the room, closed
his eyes and I slowly and piece by piece undressed him, kissing every inch
of his body as it was exposed.  When he was naked, I guided him backward to
lie crosswise on the bed, feet still on the floor, and I hurriedly ripped
off my clothes.

I always loved to see him naked in full daylight.  I still do, and always
will consider his naked body to be one of the supreme creations of the
universe.  It was magnificent in every respect, more so than in the
beginning of our relationship because his bones were getting to have a
little flesh around them.  And his magnificence was made erotic by his
beautiful, unusual, bent, boy penis with its unabashed hardness in my
presence and the expectation that his penis conveyed in that state,
standing up from his body then curving downward about 45 degrees and the
huge, purple, cockhead which just seemed to cry out for a cocksucker to
take care of it and reduce it back to its smaller, more comfortable state
on a flaccid penis.

I paused to worship his genitals and I guess I was taking too long because
John cried out. "Daddy, take it, take it now.  Please, take it now."

I realized I had delayed too long when he started pissing a stream that
shot out a foot from the edge of the bed air before gravity pulled it back
down, some landing on my naked chest and some on the rug.

As soon as the flow stopped I went down on his cock and sucked it as though
I had never sucked it before.  His body began to jerk on the bed, his penis
began to jerk in my mouth and his sweet boy juice began to flow out his
piss slit, the very orifice from which a few seconds ago he had
involuntarily, or so I guessed, urinated.  He immediately began to cry.

I got off of my knees and covered his body with mine, caressing his cheeks
with my hand, and rubbing them though his hair, which was growing longer
every week.  I reached down and found one of his hands and kissed it.

"I'm so sorry I did that, Joe."

"Why?"

"It was embarrassing.  But I know that you'd forgive me for anything and
everything, wouldn't you."

"That's right.  You can do no wrong as far as I'm concerned.  That's one
small part of my loving you."

When he finally calmed down, he said, "Do you want me to do yours now?"

"No, I want to wait until we go to bed tonight and I'll feed it to you
then.
  I just want you to get happy again for now."

"Joe, I love you, I don't know how I could be any happier.  I'm just
embarrassed, that all."

"I guess it's your penis that's embarrassed.  I'll kiss it and make it feel
better."

In sufficient time to register John for school and get him a physical
examinatione, the adoption was completed.  I was John's legal guardian.  It
was a great moment and a happy day for both of us.

We stopped at the supermarket on the way home and John ran into his high
school principal and introduced me to him explaining "We've just come from
the courthouse and John is now my legal guardian".

It was obvious that the principal was overjoyed for John (I guess he knew
some of his background.)  He gave John a hug and congratulated both of us.
His wife smiled but I kinda felt she could hardly wait to get home and plug
the news into the local gossip pipeline.

This was the first time that John just slipped his arm around my waist and
pulled me toward him, just as if it were the most natural thing in the
world to do.
  From then on it happened a lot when we were talking to people we met.  I
loved it eventhough I could imagine it raised a few eyebrows as an uncommon
occurrence between a boy and a man in Beaver City but who gave a shit.  The
only important thing was that John and I enjoyed it.  In fact, I enjoyed it
a little too much and when we were going to town together, I took to
wearing a jock strap.  Every time the little shit pulled that trick he gave
me an instant hard-on.

At the end of John's first report card period, I got a call from the school
secretary to set up an appointment between John's councilor and me.

After his councilor and English Teacher, Mr. Broadley, told me how much
better John was doing in school this year, he told me about a writing
assignment in which he had instructed his students to write about their
summer vacation. He slid a Xerox copy of John's essay in response across
the desk for me to read.

It read:

My past summer was the best summer I have ever had.  In fact, it is the
only summer, or any other season, which I really remember. You see, I have
a new stepfather, legal guardian, really, and I know he loves me.  That is
the first time I have ever had anybody love me and what a difference it
makes to my life.

For the first time, I was aware of flowers, birds, the wind in my face and
the smell of rain -- all the little things that I'd never noticed before.  I
also experienced, for the first time, taking a sunbath, feeling the comfort
of an air-conditioned truck on a long, hot journey.

It was the first summer I had a vacation.  Joe, my stepfather took me for a
long vacation to the mountains in Colorado.  I can't begin to tell you how
good he is to me and how much I love him and how much he makes me realize
that he loves me, too.  Now I look forward to autumn, to being back in
school, and even, for the first time, Thanksgiving and Christmas.

John Mueller

Slant wise, across the bottom was written: A+ Not as long as I had asked
for but a well written story that came from the heart, which is always a
captivating type of story.  It conveyed well, both your emotions as well as
those of your stepfather, Joe Farrin.

I put my head on Mr. Broadley's desk and tears streamed from my eyes.  He
reached across the desk and took one of my hands in his and squeezed it
tightly, but said not one word.

Finally I said "I'm sorry", he handed me some Kleenex and said,
"Mr. Farrin, I wept, too, when I read it.  Tears of sorrow for what I had
hints of last year that John was going through as well as tears of joy
knowing that he was now in the care of someone who loved him and who's love
he was returning in full measure."

"I'm glad you copied his essay.  Can you make me a copy."

"Just keep that one.  I have another one in my file.  But I don't think you
should show it to John."

"I agree, but I'll pull it out if I feel in need of another good cry
sometime."

He laughed and replied, "I think your lives together are going to produce
more laughter than tears.  I'd like to thank you for what you've done for
John, and I think you should know his mother never appeared for any of our
requested meetings."

"My attorney that arranged the adoption and John both tell me she was
something else."

"She really was.  She must have been totally uncaring."

I left smiling.  I was so proud having John for my stepson.  As I've told
you repeatedly in this story, but hope you'll let me tell you once more, I
really do love the kid.

Hope you enjoyed reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

THE END

John Farrin, Beaver City, Nebraska (Its turned out to be a lot better place
to live that I first imagined. Guess I shouldn't have bad mouthed it so
much.)