Date: Tue, 30 Mar 1999 02:45:59 GMT
From: Joe Camp <idc90@hotmail.com>
Subject: New Years Eve 1900 (b/b t/t M/M oral, anal, interracial)
New Years Eve 1900 1/1
Codes b/b t/t M/M (oral, anal, interracial)
By idc90@hotmail.com
Warning: The following story is a work of fiction. It
is a fantasy. It never happened, except in the author's
imagination. This story contains sex between boys, teens,
and men. If you are underage, or this is illegal where you
are, you already know what your supposed to do. Find
something else and delete this file. If this kind of story
turns you off, go find something else. If you want to read
about someone have sex every other sentence, this one is
not it.
Fiction and Real Life: This story is all fiction. The
characters in this story engage in unprotected sex. That's
not real life if you want to live to old age. The characters
are a product of my imagination, and can't catch anything unless
I want them to. Any resemblance of characters to an actual person
is purely coincidental.
The author retains the copyright of this story. Placing this
story on a commercial web site without the authors permission is
a violation of that copyright.
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December 31, 1899
Twenty minutes, and it will be 1900. Jas is asleep on the sofa. I'll
wake him in time to see the New Year. Maybe he'll feel like having sex.
We haven't missed having sex on New Years Eve since '66. That old fool,
Jas, should have known better then to try and lift Old Miz Jenkins'
wagon. That's what we have all those jacks for. We'll be 50 years-old
the day-after-tomorrow. Even under his shirt, his muscles still bulge
out, and he still makes me hot. Well, a few days rest, and he'll be alright.
Jas and me were born on the same farm, on the same day in 1850. My
name's John. I was named after Jas' pa, who was my pa's best friend.
I guess nobody but me knows the real Jas. They all think Jas is just
one of those good niggers that wouldn't leave his master. Nobody knows
he is the richest men in the county. They all thought it was Uncle James
that was rich. They never knew it was Jas telling him what to do, and
giving him the money to do it. They all think I'm doing well, but
even if it is almost 1900, nobody would accept a negro man owning
most of the county. Some of those red neck crackers would have a heart
attack if they knew Jas owns the farms they're renting. Jas has done
it all. I've just been a front for the man I love. We've always had
to be careful. Jas might not be a slave anymore, but if anyone found
out he has a white lover, they would kill us both.
I let my mind wander back. I don't know how old we were, when we
learned that people treated me different then Jas, just because I was white.
We must have been real young. I remember when I was real little, feeling
bad when any white man came to see my pa. Papa John, that's Jas' papa,
would act all humble like, calling Papa, Master, and talking funny, and
jumping around like he didn't have no sense. I hated seeing Papa John
act that way. I wished people would just stay away, and leave us be.
Then Papa John could act right.
I guess we were about 7, when I had to go to school. Jas couldn't go.
There was some stupid law that said you couldn't teach a darky to read
or write. Well, I had to go to school and set in that old school house,
while Jas got to help our pa's around the farm, or when Papa John had
some blacksmithing to do. When I got home from school, I had to
sit down and teach Jas everything I had learned that day. I didn't mind
that. Jas was real smart, but always had questions I couldn't answer.
We would just go to Papa or Papa John, and they would show us. If
they didn't know, Mama or Mama Bell did. Mama Bell was Mama's
best friend, and Jas' mama.
Jas and I did everything together. When it was bath time, we got in
the tub together. At mealtimes, we sat around the same table, as we
all ate. We grew up thinking my mama was Jas', and Mama Bell was
mine too. When one of us would get hurt when we were little, the
closest mama was were we ran. They had their own house; a shack
really, but all they did there was sleep. Papa John said it wouldn't
do for them to have better.
When we were about 10, Jas and I started figuring things out about
our bodies. You can't grow up on a farm, and not know something
about sex. At first, Jas and I would just use our hands on each other
to make us feel good. One day, we were laying naked up in the barn.
Papa and Papa John were working in the field, and Mama and Mama
Bell were in the house. Jas and I were supposed to be cleaning the
hay loft, but we decided to have some fun.
I was kissing and licking on Jas' titties. We had learned it fells
real good if we do that to each other. Jas' dark, black dick was hard
against his tummy, the same as mine was against me. I was kissing
and licking down his tummy, when I came to his thing. I kissed it and
gave it a lick, and Jas squealed, just like one of the little pigs. I thought
that was funny, so I tried it again. I licked it again, and Jas moaned and
shoved his hips up. His thing was in my mouth! It didn't taste bad
or nothing, and Jas seemed to really like it there, so I didn't spit it
out. Jas started pushing it in and out of my mouth, and told me it
felt really good. It didn't take long before his body started doing that
shaking, and he said it was the best feeling he had ever had. I couldn't
wait for my turn. We started doing it that way from then on.
We were in town one Saturday, it must have been when we were 11
or 12, and we were over at the livery stable. We were watching a
stallion service a mare, when Jas got that look. I could tell he had
something in mind, and he couldn't wait for us to get away from there.
When he told me what he had in mind, I told him he was crazy. I
wasn't about to let him put his thing up my rear. Well, Jas just wouldn't
let go. He kept on and on about it, week after week, until I gave in. I
told him I would try.
We waited till we could sneak off to the hay loft. I took my coveralls
off, and got on my hands and knees. Jas got on top of me, just like we
saw the stallion do to the mare. He pushed and shoved, but his thing
just wouldn't go in. He kept trying for 10 or 15 minutes, before I told
him to give up, and I would suck on his thing for him. We gave each
other the feeling, but I could tell Jas still hadn't let go in his mind,
that other way.
Jas is real smart, and I knew if he had enough time, he would figure
something out. It wasn't but a couple of weeks later, that he told me
he knew what to do. We just needed to use some axle grease, and
make us slick. I told you Jas was smart. We snuck over to Papa John's
blacksmith shop, and got a good gob of axle grease, taking it back to
the hay loft.
Jas smeared some on my bottom, then some on his dick. We got into
position, and he started poking me with his dick again. It just slid up
and down my crack. Jas said that felt good, but he wanted to get it
inside. He used his hand to hold his dick still, then pushed against me.
It slid right inside. Jas said it was the best feeling he ever had, and it
felt good to me too. Jas wanted me to do it to him, so he could see
what it felt like. We both liked doing it that way. For some reason,
we both had the runs for a week afterward. Jas figured it must have
been the axle grease, so we used some of Mama Bell's lard after that.
The year we were 13, a lot happened to us. Papa had to go off to
War, and that just left Papa John to take care of the farm, with mine
and Jas' help. Papa told us before he left, that he didn't want to go,
but that he must. He told me and Jas, that we would have to be men,
and help Papa John, and mind what he told us. Jas and me didn't
understand what the war was about, just that it had something to do
with states rights. The North was trying to force stuff on the South,
so the South became a new country called the Confederate States of
America. Papa had to go defend our state.
One day, Jas had my dick in his mouth, sucking on it, as I pushed in
and out. The feeling started, but it was different. It was better then it
had ever happened, and suddenly, something shot out of my dick. Jas
choked, and started yelling at me for peeing in his mouth. But honest,
I didn't pee! After he calmed down, we could see it wasn't pee, but
some white stuff. Jas said it didn't taste like pee, but although it didn't
taste real good, it didn't taste bad. I got some of the white stuff off
his chin, and tasted it. It wasn't pee. A few days later, Jas told me a
darky boy had told him it was called cum, and that's what men put inside
women to make a baby. It was only a few months later, that Jas could
make cum too. His tasted almost the same as mine.
It was that same year, we got the word that Papa had been killed at
Chancellorsville. It changed us all, but I think it changed Papa John
more then any of the rest of us. We would sometimes see Papa John
just staring at nothing, or sometimes looking around, like he was
hunting for Papa.
Papa John sat us all down in the house the night we heard about
Papa, and had a talk with us. He told me that Papa's will left everything
to me. He said they had hoped I would be much older when Papa died,
but we would just have to do what we had to do. Papa John went on to
explain that Papa had offered many years before to set them free. The
world being like it was, they felt they were safer being Papa's slaves on
paper. So now I owned Papa John, Mama Bell, and Jas. It didn't feel
right. Nobody can own someone else. Especially Papa John and Mama
Bell and Jas! Papa John just patted his knee. I climbed onto his lap, like
I did when I was a little kid, and wanted Papa John's comforting. Papa
John wrapped me in his big strong arms, and told me everything would be
alright.
Everything wasn't alright. Oh, for the first year, but then the world
just fell apart. It was in March of '64 that the influenza hit the county.
Big strong Papa John was one of the first to go. We buried him under
the big oak tree on top of the knoll. It was always his favorite place
to sit after a hard day. Mama Bell just seemed to give up, and she went
next. We placed her beside Papa John. A week later, we lost Mama.
The people from town wouldn't let us bury Mama beside Mama Bell.
We had to bury her a ways off, but that night, Jas and me moved her.
I know she will be happier beside Mama Bell, then off by herself.
Judge Wills from town, told me that until I was 21, or some of my
kinfolk could be found, I was a ward of the court, and had to do what
he said. He said it was his responsibility to take care of everything
for me until I was grown. He wanted to sell Jas, but I begged him not
too. He finally agreed not to, because slaves weren't bringing much of
anything at that time. He decided to rent Jas to the army. I told him
I didn't want Jas killed too, and he just laughed at me, and said they
don't let niggers fight. They just dig ditches, and do the work that has
to be done. He would rent out the farm, but he didn't say what would
happen to me. When he asked me how much money we had, I told him
$75.00. I decided I wasn't going to tell him about the money we had
buried on the other side of Papa John. Papa and Papa John didn't trust
banks, so our money was in gold and silver coins, buried at the oak
tree. There was almost $3,000.00 there. The Judge seemed disappointed
there wasn't more money, but he didn't say anything, except tell me to
give it to him.
When I told Jas, we both cried. When we went to bed that night, Jas
fucked me as if we would never see each other again. It was then that I
knew I loved Jas more then just as a brother. He was my life. I didn't
see how I could survive without him. He admitted he felt the same way.
They came and took us away the next morning. I was to go to the
army too. I went to work as an orderly in the field hospital. Jas was
put to work with a gang of darkies, digging graves. There wasn't
much I could do for those poor men. A sip of water, or a chamber
pot. When things got bad towards the end of the war, we didn't have
any medicine. There wasn't even whisky to dull the pain. I still wake
up some nights hearing the screams of men, as the doctors sawed off
an arm or a leg, trying to save their lives.
Jas and I would see each other for a few minutes, when he came to
get those who had died during the night. We were never alone, but it
was good just to be able to see he was alright. Soon, we lost even
that. When the blacksmith needed a new helper, he choose Jas, after he
found out he had a little experience. I couldn't often find an excuse
to go to the blacksmith shop.
It was during that time, that I met James. He was a lieutenant, and
had lost his leg and an arm. He didn't have a home to go back to. It
had been burned to the ground by Sherman's men. He didn't have any
family to take care of him, so he stayed with the hospital, doing what he
could for the injured. I liked James, and we became good friends.
One day, the Colonel came, and said we were all to go home. The war
was over. General Lee had surrendered. I asked James what he was
going to do, and he said he didn't know. Jas came running to me, and
I grabbed him in a hug. At least Jas was now free to be free. I didn't
have to be his master anymore, and Judge Wills couldn't sell him.
I asked Jas what he was going to do, and he looked at me shocked,
before he said, "We're going home!" It was Jas' idea to make James
my uncle. James didn't have a home to go to, and no money left. It
would work, if he would go along with the idea. I felt we could trust
James. I knew the kind of man he was. He wouldn't take charity, but
he would take a job. We would go home, and work the farm. Jas would
re-open Papa John's blacksmith shop, and James would be our guardian.
It would work.
It took us weeks to get home. Poor James couldn't go very fast,
hobbling along on one leg. We had to stop often, and let him rest.
We was able to hitch a ride for him sometimes, but not often. There
were just too many wounded soldiers trying to get home. Food was
hard to come by. None of us had any money. Jas and I had never
seen any of the money we were supposed to get paid, and James hadn't
gotten paid in months. We managed. We slept at the side of the road,
when we got tired. We begged food along the way, but often, the people
at the houses along the way, had nothing to give. The South was broken.
The first night, after we were sure James was asleep, Jas and I slipped
farther back into the woods. He took me in his arms, and kissed me
on the lips. That shocked me a little, we had never done that. Then,
all of a sudden, his tongue was inside my mouth. It took my breath
away, but when I recovered, I liked what he was doing to me. I tried
slipping my tongue in his mouth, and it was wonderful.
I dropped his coveralls. I didn't really need to. There was a big hole
right near his crotch, that when he walked, you could see nearly every-
thing. It had been driving me crazy all day. I knew he was bigger then
the last time we were together. So was I. His meat was sticking up,
and I wrapped my lips around it. It was a lot bigger. I would have liked
to have had it up my rear, but we didn't have any lard. I sucked as
Jas fucked in and out. His hands were on the back of my head, gently
guiding me. It didn't take long before he moaned, and my mouth was
filling with his juices. I had to swallow it, because a lot more was
coming out of him then he used to shoot. I didn't mind. It was my Jas.
When it was my turn, Jas took me in his hot mouth, and I thought I
had died and gone to heaven. When I cum, I felt as if the top of my head
was coming off. I fell to my knees in front of Jas, and he hugged me
and supported me to keep me from falling. Once I had recovered, we
snuck back to where James was sleeping.
We weren't far from the farm. We were almost home. Another few
miles. When we got to the farm, our faces fell. We had described to
James the farm we had left. It was hard to tell it was the same place.
The house was there, and so was the barn and blacksmith shop, but it
had been run down. The door of our house that Mama and Mama Bell
took so much pride in, was hanging by one hinge. The furniture was
gone. We went to the blacksmith shop. All of Papa John's tools were
gone. Everything that could be moved was missing. All that was left
was the big anvil that Papa John had spent many an hour at, hammering
at a piece of hot iron. Mama Bell's chicken coops were empty. The
fields were covered with weeds.
We told James we were going to go check on the graves. He said he
would stay at the house. We climbed the knoll, and the graves looked
like they hadn't been disturbed. Papa John's marker was leaning a little,
so we straitened it. Mama Bell's was ok, and we hadn't moved Mama's.
We didn't have anything to dig with, so we didn't check on the money.
The ground looked like it hadn't been disturbed in years. I asked Jas
what we were going to do, and just like Papa John always used to say,
he told me "We're just going to do what we have to do."
James and I went to see Judge Wills the next morning. James told
him he was my mama's brother. And was there to settle our accounts.
Judge Wills said he was glad we all made it through the war. And just
kept yapping about nothing. I wanted to know what happened to all
our stuff. The Judge said army deserters must have stole it all. When
I asked about our money, he gave James 10 dollars and 65 cents, in
worthless Confederate paper. I told him I had given him 75 dollars in
gold. He said the rest had gone for expenses, taxes and such. Even
mine and Jas' army pay.
Jas had told me to buy a shovel before going back home. We gave
the man at the store the 10 dollars for an old rusted shovel. He had
said he would sell it for 15 cents in coin. I just hoped our money was
still there. Jas had a fit about our paying that kind of money for an
old shovel. Then when he looked at it, he said it was ours anyway. It
had Papa John's mark on it. We dug up the money that night, and when
we counted it, we were just 20 dollars and 45 cent short of 3000 dollars.
We all worked like dogs, those first few years after the war. Jas was
tight with our money. We only bought what we had to have, and Jas
didn't think we had to have much. He was right. All I needed was a
little food, and his love. Land was cheap, so we quietly bought up all
the farms we could. We put tenant farmers on them, and let them
farm for shares. We didn't try to cheat them the way we heard some
landowners were doing. In fact, when Jas decided the man that owned
the general store in town was cheating our people, we opened our own
store. We found a white man to run it for us, and he always thought he
worked for James.
For a while after the war, we thought things were going to be different
for the darkies. Things were better, they were free, but that was all. It
wasn't long before the KKK raised it's ugly head.
Jas has been able to put most of Papa John's blacksmith shop back
together. When we would buy a farm, the first thing Jas would do, would
be to look for any of Papa John's tools. We found most of them that way.
Some we had to buy back at a sale, some were left out at the blacksmith
shop, when no one was around. For over 30 years now, Jas has been
know as the best blacksmith around.
James never said anything about Jas and me sharing a bed. At first, we
told him it was cheaper, and we wouldn't have to buy 3 beds. After the
first year, the subject just never came up again. He had to know what
was going on, we weren't always that quiet.
James would take care of the house, and cook our meals. We tried to
buy him a wheel chair, but he would have none of it. He said he got
around fine with his crutch. James died in '76. The doctor said a piece
of shrapnel that had been left in him, cut an artery, and he bleed to death
inside, before anything could be done. We buried him at Papa John's
feet. Jas will be laid beside Papa John, and I'll be beside him. I've
always mourned that we don't know where Papa is laid.
After we lost James, our lawyer at the capital takes care of everything
for us. He rents out the farms, and if anyone has a problem, he takes
care of it. If he's not sure what to do, he telephones Jas. I think starting
the telephone company was one of Jas' best moves. I just can't get over
the fact that you can call someone miles away, and in just a few minutes
be talking to them. Of course, I wasn't against our investing in the electric
company either.
Back in '88, it looked like I had lost Jas. He wanted us to have an
heir. He wanted me to get married. I told him I couldn't. I loved him
too much to ever be able to live with a woman. I could see that it was
something that was real important to him. I told him he would have to
be the one to take a wife. He found a woman named Cassie, and after
they had kept company a while, they got married. We rebuilt the old
shack, and I moved out there. It was hard for me to work with Jas and
not be able to make love to him. Some nights, I couldn't sleep, wanting
to be laying in his arms. I liked Cassie, and I would never do anything
to harm her, or cause her greif, but it was hard not to want him.
Cassie was pregnant within two months of their getting married. Little
Johnny was born Christmas Day, 1888. Cassie succumbed to childbirth
fever, she died two days later. We laid her to the right of James. She
will be at Jas' feet.
Little Johnny went to Cassie's people. Her mama insisted she raise him.
It was just as well, how could we take care of a little baby? I moved back
to the house, and comforted Jas in his grief. He did grieve. He had loved
her. Little Johnny has spent every Sunday of his life with us, and has been
promised he can live with us when he is 12. That will be soon enough to
start teaching him his responsibilities. Well, it's five minutes to midnight.
I had better wake Jas. I want my New Year's fucking.
"Jas, wake up Jas. It's time for us to go to bed, honey."
The End
Comments: idc90@hotmail.com Flames Happily Ignored :)
Hotmail has been having some problems. If you wrote and
didn't get an answer, I didn't get it. I answer all notes.
Thanks, Joe.