Date: Tue, 22 Nov 2005 21:03:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Eric Tightjeans <ericintightjeans@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Special Thanksgiving Part One

Outside the back door of my grandmother's farmhouse on the Wednesday
afternoon before Thanksgiving, I stood alone in a house full of relatives
who had been arriving all day. It was cold and overcast and was starting to
spit snow.  Grandma reveled in the din created by 8 adults and more than a
dozen children, with more expected.

For me these family gatherings were boring. I was fifteen, the oldest
grandchild with the next oldest eight years younger, too young to have any
fun hanging around with the adults, and no kids close enough to my age to
have any fun with. Unless I could find something to do alone I ended up
baby-sitting. The pool table in the basement was almost always a good bet,
but this afternoon it had become the gathering place for new arrivals. All
my uncles were down there some shooting pool, but mostly getting updated on
each others lives over a bottle of beer.

I opted for a walk in the snow. I liked walking in the winter and in five
minutes I had crossed the pasture and was in the wood along the creek that
flowed through grandma's farm. I followed the cow path along the stream to the
end of the pasture. Feeling better, I climbed the fence and followed the creek
into the woods about another half-mile until I began to feel the chill through my
jacket. I headed back stopping frequently to enjoy the subtle sounds of the
woods, then shatter it with a footstep crunching through the thin ice that was
forming over puddles along the path as I began walking again.

Before returning to the house I stopped at the barn and climbed to my
private spot in the haymow. I guess it wasn't really private, anyone could get to it
anytime they wanted, but it had become a special place for me and in that sense
it was private. As long as I can remember I lived and worked on this farm in the
summer. I had begun climbing up here before grandpa died. Every night before
supper and after the chores were finished we would play some game. Frequently
it was hide and seek and the haymow was one of my favorite hiding places. If
grandpa came up to look for me here I burrowed under some hay till he gave up.
He probably knew I was there, but he never dug into the hay to find me.
Grandparents allow their grandchildren to win at games. Besides being a good
hiding place for hide and seek, It was a shady comfortable place to sit or lie for a
while after lunch before going back to work. Sunday afternoons I would often
bring a book and read, doze, or gaze out the loft door across the valley and
daydream. It was here two summers ago where I masturbated for the first time,
something that I continued to do at least daily and frequently when I was at the
farm.

Now my hand was rubbing my cock through my jeans while my mind was
remembering a special Sunday afternoon in the haymow. I had played with
myself for what must have been hours before coming. I had multiple boners and
kept myself at the edge until I couldn't stand it any longer and shot what had to
be a record volume of cum into the hay. Today was too cold for a leisurely
session. Soon my caressing hand had my cock so hot and throbbing that the
cold air didn't phase it when I unzipped my jeans and began pulling it off. My
snug jeans squeezing my thighs intensified the pleasure my stroking hand
stimulated in my groin. While I stroked the end of my cock between my thumb
and first two fingers I used my other hand to cup and gently squeeze my nuts.
When I shot my wad of steaming jiz into the hay I felt the pleasure of orgasm all
the way to the curling of my toes. The heat I had generated in my cock before
coming left with the load I shot and it shrunk dramatically in the cold. I stuffed it
back into my jeans and went to the window. It was getting darker and colder and
snowing harder, but I could see more cars parked by the house.

I went back to the house and was getting a coke out of the refrigerator
when grandma came into the kitchen. "Why don't you get one for Mark too?"

"Mark?" I said as a question. "Who's Mark?"

"Donna's brother. You remember. He came to stay with them to go to
school here. He's in your grade and they arrived while you were outside."

My uncle Steve met Donna at Junior College and married her last Spring
right after graduation. I remembered now that her brother had come to live with
them in order to get high school courses that weren't available in the small town
where he lived, but I had never met him.

"Where is he?"

"Downstairs playing pool." Grandma answered.

I grabbed another coke and headed downstairs. When I rounded the
corner in the stairs that brought the basement into view my cock stiffened and
my legs went so wobbly I had to hang onto the handrail to keep standing. Mark
was leaning over the pool table and was only visible from his waist down. His
white Levi's fit him perfectly. I swear that the folks at Levi Strauss had designed
their jeans exclusively for him. They were snug, but not tight or stretched, and
they hugged his seat, hips and thighs. Instantly I wanted to be that pair of jeans.
The thought of a lifetime hugging Mark created a warm glow around my cock
head - that glow that you get while jacking off, the feeling that you wish you
could hold forever. But no matter how hard you try, it controls you, building and
intensifying until the only thing that matters is shooting your wad of jism in an
explosion of ecstasy. It is unrivaled by any other feeling known to teenage boys.
Had he held that position much longer I would have creamed my jeans, but he
finished his shot, stood up, and while studying his next shot revealed his profile.

The first view I had of Mark hadn't given a false first impression.
Everything about him was as sexy as his Levi clad buns. He was medium height
but appeared tall because he was thin and small boned, maybe even delicate.
He had unblemished skin and was meticulously groomed from hair, neatly
combed across his forehead over his right eye to his shined tasseled loafers. His
neatly pressed shirt, light blue with navy and yellow pinstripes, trimly narrowed
with his torso to his slim waist with no hint of a wrinkle. Standing erect, his Levi's
still hugged his buns and legs, but also revealed a bulge behind their buttons -
hinting at the precious cargo in his basket.

My cock was still swollen, but my legs were no longer all wobbly. I let go
of the handrail, approached Mark and introduced myself. We hit it off really well
and within a half-hour were playing pool, talking, joking, and generally horsing
around as if we had been friends for years. I learned that not only were Mark and
I the same age, but we attended the same school, and even had some of the
same teachers for the same classes - just different periods. We jabbered at
dinner and on through the evening in front of the television, pausing long
enough occasionally to catch a little of the program. We were the last two in the
house to bed, but before Grandma went upstairs she reminded us that it was still
snowing and that the next morning we were to take the tractor and have the
driveway and lane to the main highway cleared by ten.

That evening we became good friends, and I got horny, hornier, horniest.
By bedtime there was no concealing my boner, but if Mark noticed it he gave no
indication that I could tell. When the national anthem indicated that there was no
more TV that night we made our way down to the basement where all the boys
slept at these holiday gatherings. We tiptoed past the younger boys sacked out
in sleeping bags on the floor in the pool room, to our sleeping quarters - the
hideaway bed in the family room. I was excited about undressing for bed with
Mark, but was disappointed when he took his pajamas into the bathroom to
change. I shed my boner and my clothes - except my briefs - and joined Mark in
the bathroom to brush my teeth. He was already in his pajamas and went to bed,
leaving me and my stiffening rod to my imagination in the bathroom. I finished,
turned out the lights and slipped into bed next to Mark. It excited me, but it was
also late and I was tired. I soon fell asleep with my hot, hard cock pressing
against my shorts.

Next think I knew I was being jostled awake to get up and start clearing
the snow. I was so sleepy I could barely bring myself awake. Then I realized
there was no light coming in through the window. It was too early to get up and
plow the snow, but the jostling didn't stop. Then I realized that the jiggling bed
was Mark beating off. I wanted in on this too - either to jack off with him or better
yet we would pull each other off, but we had only known each other a few hours
and I was afraid of how he would react. I lay still a few moments, undecided what
to do when the bed stopped moving and I no longer had to decide. But now I had
another problem - a raging boner. I wanted ever so badly to jack it off, but I had
cast the die to play possum when Mark was beating his meat and under great
pressure forced myself to lie still.

Sleep finally returned with a wet dream that rewarded my abstinence. I
was lying on the couch reading and petting my cock and balls when out of
nowhere Mark appeared - nude, flitting around me pointing at various parts of
me with his boner. Every time it pointed at any article of my clothing he removed
it until I was as nude as he was. Then his boner pointed at mine. He took it in his
hand and as soon as he touched it I started to come. That's when I woke up
again. I didn't know how long I had slept or if Mark was asleep or awake, but
there was to be no more abstinence. There was to be no jostling of the bed
either. My briefs were already damp from the wet dream and one squeeze of my
cock filled them with wave after wave of spunk. I lay awake reveling in the
afterglow for a long time. When the wetness in my briefs cooled and chilled my
cock and nuts. I went to the bathroom, shed my soaked underpants, and
returned to bed in my birthday suit. The next time I awoke the sun was shining in
my eyes and Mark was poking me in the shoulder.

"It's almost 8:00 o'clock. Time to get up and get busy at snow removal."

I pushed myself up in bed rubbing the sand out of my eyes. Mark was
bright eyed and neatly dressed in a white sweat shirt and jeans that were
probably last years - faded to pale blue and tight. I threw off the covers, pretty
curious to know what effect if any my being nude would have on him, but I had to
piss so bad I practically ran to the bathroom. I washed up and returned to the
family room to dress. Mark had made up the hide away bed and was sitting on
the couch waiting for me. I riffled through my bag, found an old shirt and pair of
jeans to wear to clear the snow. I don't think it was my imagination that saw
Mark's cock in relief against the soft denim of his faded Wrangler jeans a relief
that I didn't remember seeing when I got out of bed. Had I taken much time
dressing I might not have been able to pull my jeans over my swelling cock.

"Let's get started," I said, "if we're going to get this finished by ten."

We had a quick breakfast and headed for the tractor in the barn. We
started it up and planned our job while the engine warmed up. Mark said he had
never operated a tractor so I used it to clear the driveway and parking area
between the barn and the house. He cleared snow from the parked cars and
juggled them into the area I had cleared allowing me to finish up where the cars
had been. In no time that was done leaving the lane to the highway. We had
agreed that this would be a good opportunity for Mark to learn to drive the
tractor. He sat on the tractor and I stood behind him. When he set it in motion it
was such a jack rabbit start that had I not been holding the steering wheel I
would have been thrown and left behind in the snow and ice. I cut the throttle
and insisted that until Mark had mastered this machine I was going to ride in a
more secure place and the only such place was the seat. For now at least he
was going to have to share it with me. I sat and Mark sat in front of me, half on
the front edge of the tractor seat and half on my lap. We had another jack rabbit
start, not quite as bad as the first, and we were off down the driveway to the
lane. At the gate we stopped to lower the plow and Mark showed even more
improvement on setting the tractor in motion. It was clear sailing now for the mile
or so to the highway. In that mile I showed Mark about everything there was to
learn to run the tractor and we stopped and started enough times that he could
do it without it acting like a bucking bronco. On the return trip I could have stood
safely, but my cock liked Mark sitting on my lap and I wasn't going to give up that
pleasure. I remained on the tractor seat with only two layers of soft thin denim
between my hot, sensuous cock and Mark's sexy buns. Back at the farm we put
the tractor in the barn and Mark got off my lap just in time to save me from
creaming my jeans. He took off for the house to change into dry clothes. Having
been on the tractor the whole time, my clothes were dry, but my jeans couldn't
hide my boner. To prevent the embarrassment my hard on would cause
everybody (mainly me) if I went through the kitchen full of women and girls with it
so clearly outlined in my jeans, I jacked off in the barn to soften it. In the
basement, Mark had changed into his white Levi's and hung his Wrangler's in
front of the furnace to dry. He was standing next to the pool table with Steve.

"Come on guys. Let's take a run into town?" Steve said. "It's time to pick
up Aunt Marge."

When we got to town Steve surprised us, "We've got plenty of time before
we need to be back. Let's take a ride around town. Why don't you two take turns
getting a little driving practice in."

We had a great time. The forty five minutes went by in a flash.

"You guys study up," Steve said when he took the wheel again to head for
Aunt Marge's place, "and a week from Saturday we'll go get your learner's
permits and I'll teach you to drive. Actually you just demonstrated that you
already know how, but we'll get you some experience."

"All right!" we replied in unison.

It wasn't long after we got back to Grandma's that dinner was served.
Afterwards the women started the clean up chores in the kitchen, the girls went
upstairs to play, and the men and boys retired to the football games on TV,
except me. I never cared much for sports and found watching football on TV to
be bore. I ended up in the basement family room. I had brought my homework
along and tried to read my English assignment but I couldn't concentrate. I found
myself thinking about Mark and playing with my cock imagining that it was his. I
was getting quite a hot boner and thoroughly enjoying it.

"Hey!" he said, crossed the room and plopped down on the couch next to
me. He kicked off his loafers, pulled his feet up under his knees, and sat Indian
style his knee pressed against my thigh. "Why are you down here instead of
watching the game?"

"I never cared much for sports. I was trying to read the English
assignment but I couldn't get into it."

I didn't say what was distracting me. I wondered if he had just arrived or if
he had been here long enough to see what I had been doing. In a way I hoped
he had. It might allow my fantasizing to become reality. Worst case I would learn
that it would never be anything but fantasy.

"You're not missing much today, the game's pretty boring and to top it off
most of the older men upstairs are hashing over the list of everything that's
wrong with today's teenagers. It seems we don't think about anything but sex.
The girls don't have enough sense to keep from getting knocked up and the
boys don't know enough to screw around so that if we do get some girl in trouble
she doesn't know who's responsible. I guess there's no hope for civilization."

"That's got to be Uncle Silas."

"That's him all right!"

"He gets on that kick whenever anybody will listen. We've mostly learned
to tune it out."

Mark stood up.

"I'm going to change into my other jeans."

He closed the door and shed his white Levi's. I stared at his brief clad
buns while he stowed the jeans neatly in his bag.

"Might as well start getting my stuff ready. Steve said we would be leaving
at six tomorrow morning so he could get back to the city in time for work."

"Why don't you stay here a couple more days? You could ride back with
us on Sunday."

He had taken off his shorts and turned toward me, nude from his shirt tail
to his socks, his cock peeking out from under his shirt.

"I'm sure Steve and Donna wouldn't mind, but what would we do?"

He stepped into his Wranglers and pulled them up. His cock grew and
protruded through the open fly while he tucked in his shirt.

Staring, I answered, "There will be ice skating in the park in town
tomorrow night and the movies are always free to students the Saturday night
after Thanksgiving."

Mark pushed what was just short of a hard on inside his Wranglers and
zipped them up. He joined me on the couch, kneeling on the cushion and facing
me, buns resting on his heels. Neither his jeans nor mine could conceal the
boners they contained.

"Ice skating and free movies are nice."

Mark leaned forward, rested his hands against my leg, and continued in a
whisper.

"But that's not what will convince me to stay over till Sunday."

"What will?"

"On the tractor this morning I don't think you had a gun in your pocket yet
there was something round and hard in your jeans."

Mark paused.

"And these hard round things in our crotches aren't pipes."

Mark paused again and directed his index fingers to each of our crotches
until they lightly brushed against the evidence of our budding manhood.

"What we do with these could convince me to stay over till Sunday."

 "Maybe Uncle Silas is right and all we do think about is sex. The first
thing I wanted to do when I saw you leaning over the pool table last night was to
pet your cock and I haven't thought about anything else since then."

"Don't just talk about it, do it!"

I petted his and he petted mine.

"Take your underpants off," he said. "All I want around your cock right
now is your jeans and my hand."

I got up and headed for the bathroom. Mark grabbed my belt.

"You can do it here. I locked the door."

"The lock on that door doesn't work."

I pulled him into the bathroom and made quick work of getting my
underpants off and my jeans back on. Two things though kept my cock from
going back inside them: it was too hard and Mark's fist was wrapped around it. I
unzipped his Wranglers and wrapped my hand around his. Locked in hand to
cock fondling we stroked each other's boners filling them with a load of hot jiz.
The intense pleasure we were giving each other made our cocks so hot that we
involuntarily increased the rate of our strokes to a frenetic pace. Our hard ons
were past capacity. We shot our wads in seconds and collapsed on each other
in ecstasy. We held throbbing cocks repeatedly pumping hot male cream into
our fists.

When we recovered Mark said, I'll be staying over till Sunday and riding
back with you."

"If you'd said no," I replied, "You'd have had to take me back with you. I
wasn't going to let go of your cock."


To be continued.