Date: Fri, 8 Feb 2013 07:39:56 -0800 (PST)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: Farm Boy (Incest)

I wish all of you could have known my father, Robert.  Everyone called him
Bob.  My mother, Cheryl, endearingly called him Bobby.  He was six feet,
six inches tall, and he was all muscle and sinew.  He had inherited my
grand parents' wheat farm in Minnesota.  A perfectionist, he couldn't abide
inept help, so he worked the damned place all by himself.  Aside from his
imposing height, he was the handsomest man I have ever met.  His hair
remained platinum blond until he was forty-five, when it began to mix with
silver-grey.  His eyes were blue, his nose was chiseled, and his chin,
square and manly.

His kid brother, Michael, whom everyone simply called Mike, wanted nothing
to do with the farm.  Instead he went to law school in California, and took
up practice in San Francisco.  My dad had never in his life traveled out of
Minnesota.  In fact, the farthest he had ever gone was the nearby town
where he went to school in his youth, and where he purchased his supplies.
It was sheer torture for him to make the trip to San Francisco to attend
Uncle Mike's wedding, but he had to bite the bullet.  Dad loved Uncle Mike,
and he was the best man after all.  That makes me wish that I had a kid
brother, but alas, I am an only child.

My mom was a lawyer in Uncle Mike's firm.  She was a brilliant scholar, an
expert at constitutional law, and a stunning, beautiful woman.  My parents
met at the wedding, and fell instantly in love.  My beautiful urbane,
sophisticated mother married in haste, and returned to Minnesota with my
father.  She journeyed from the hustle and bustle of San Francisco to the
isolation of Dad's farm, giving up her independence, and a promising
career, for the privilege of fucking the most handsome, most manly man, she
had ever met, or hoped to meet in her lifetime.  I know it's hard to
believe, but she seemed very content with the life she had chosen.  If she
wasn't, Dad and I never knew.

I was born two years after they were married.  One week before I was due to
enter this world on December 13th, Dad took Mom to Minneapolis where I was
born in a well equipped hospital.  He named me Joshua after his father.
Before the snows began in earnest and severity, he was able to get the
three of us home.

Our farm was very isolated.  We were generally snowed in most of the
winter.  Buses and trucks could not get through to us for days, so Dad
stocked up the house during the fall months.  He stowed enough food and
supplies to see us through the terrible winters.  It was also for this
reason that Mom decided to home-school me.  It was not the best of
decisions.  I had no interaction with any other young students, and worse
yet; I had no school yard to use as a class room for sex education.

Thanks to my father, I became an expert wheat farmer, and thanks to my
mother, I became a brilliant scholar, with a penchant for the law.  From
the time I was thirteen, Mom, Uncle Mike, and I would have three-way
telephone conversations discussing The Law.

When I reached an age of sexual curiosity, and began to ask questions, my
mom turned beet red and said, "I'll have your father talk to you about
that, and I'll order some books for you to read."

My poor father!  He never had the courage to talk to me about sex, but one
day when I was close to fourteen, it became necessary for me to force the
issue.  Something bad happened to me, or so I thought.  I messed my
underwear, and I had never even done that as a child.  Some inner voice
told me not to mention it to my mother, but to seek Dad's advice.

It was a struggle to describe to him how my body felt, just as my penis
emitted a liquid substance, and soiled my underwear.  I did the best I
could, and my father's reaction was nothing I expected.  He grabbed me and
hugged me so tight, I thought my ribs would break.

He began to sob.  "Josh, my son," he cried, "you are becoming a man.  You
had a nocturnal emission, a wet dream."

I already considered myself a man, so I was terribly confused.  "What does
that mean?" I asked.

"When a boy's body becomes a man's body, his seed begins to grow within
him.  Nature dictates that a man's seed must be released periodically, and
it will emit itself through his penis."  I must admit that his exclamation
did not clarify anything.  It was way beyond my retarded sex education.  I
did realize, however, that what happened to me was normal, and I needn't
fret about it any longer.

When Dad saw the confusion on my face, he decided to have the birds and the
bees talk with me.  He stood up and closed the door so Mom could not hear
us.  He explained that a man's cock (yes, he said cock) hardens when it is
aroused.  "Then he can insert it into a woman's vagina.  He strokes in and
out until a wonderful feeling invades his body, and he ejaculates his cum
(yes, he said cum).

"The man's cum, and the woman's egg, unite to make a baby," he concluded.

"Ugh!" I said.  "That's all well and good, but how often will I have wet
dreams, and how can I keep from wetting myself and my bed?"

"Well," he said, "there's a trick you can do, and you'll never have another
nocturnal emission.  I can teach you to make the emission happen when you
want it to, and then you can catch your spunk, and dispose of it, without
dirtying anything.  It's called masturbation."

Finally, something sounded intriguing to me.  I put a look on my face as if
to say, "Please tell me more."

Dad got up again, and went to the door.  This time he locked it.  He sat
back down and wrapped his right palm around the forefinger of his left
hand.  Then he began to stroke up and down.

"Wrap your palm around your cock like this, and start stroking like this.
That will simulate the stroking of your cock in your wife's vagina.
Eventually your brain will be fooled into thinking that you are having sex,
and you will have an emission.  You can catch the gunk in some tissues, and
dispose of it down the toilet.  That will end your involuntary emissions,
and you needn't wet anything again."

It took me three attempts to successfully masturbate to conclusion, and it
was worth all the effort.  After experiencing my first orgasm, I became
insatiable for more.

I reported my success to my dad, and told him how enjoyable it was.  Once
again he hugged me tightly and sobbed, "My son is a young man now."

As I told you, being home–schooled I had no frame of reference to the
taboos, or lack thereof, pertaining to sexual matters.  This naivety led to
a very embarrassing moment between my father and me.  At least he was
embarrassed.  I wasn't, because I had no idea I should have been.

One beautiful spring morning, my mother gave me a batch of material to work
on, and she drove into town for some groceries.  We had only one bathroom
in the old farm house.  It was situated between my bedroom and my parents'.
I had to pee, so I just opened the door and walked in.  I was shocked to
find my dad on the commode.  He was blissfully whacking off.  I did not
realize how huge his cock was until just that moment.  I had never seen him
hard before.  He immediately turned red, and tried to abort his endeavors,
but it was too late; he was cumming.

He tried unsuccessfully to stifle his screams.  As for me, I was
overwhelmed at the amount, thickness, and whiteness of his seed.  When I
came, I was still emitting a small amount of a watery substance, which was
almost clear.

Dad mumbled.  "You should have knocked."

"I thought you were in the fields.  Anyway, what's so terrible?  You told
me that whacking off was healthy for the body.  I just thought you didn't
have to do it after you got married."

"Give me a minute to clean up.  Then you do what you came to do, and we'll
discuss it."

A few minutes later we were in the kitchen.  Dad was making a sandwich to
take back to the fields with him, and he said, "I know it's crazy, Josh,
but women have to be made love to, for what seems like hours, before they
get aroused enough for sex.  Anyway, it's true of your mother.  Sometimes I
just have to relieve myself without the stress of working so hard to arouse
her.  I know it may be hard for you to understand, but that's the plain
truth.  I suspect that most men continue to whack off all their lives."

Talking about sex was so difficult for him that he couldn't even look at me
as he spoke.  He retreated hastily out of the kitchen leaving me to ponder
on what he said.  I know I didn't exactly understand what he told me, but I
do know for sure that our little conversation aroused me, and I hurried
back into the bathroom to do exactly what Dad had done.  As I stroked
myself to ecstasy, all I could envision was my dad doing it, and the
plentiful, white, viscous fluid he had produced.  The orgasm I experienced
that day was extraordinary.  After that, I always pictured my dad whacking
off, when I was doing it.

                              **********

Every Christmas we closed up the house for two weeks, and we traveled to
San Francisco to visit my Uncle Mike, his family, and my maternal
grandparents.  My grandparents had scaled down to a small bungalow after my
mom got married, so we always stayed with Uncle Mike and Aunt Sharon in
their huge house.  Uncle Mike had two sons.  Jamie was a year younger than
I, and Matt was a year older.

For me it was the best time of the year.  I actually got to play, interact
and socialize with boys my own age.  Matt told me once that he and Jamie
counted the days to my visit because we had so much fun together.  When I
was there I slept on a cot in Matt's room.  Jamie remained alone in his
room, and my mom and dad got the guest room.  I was always impressed that
Uncle Mike and Aunt Sharon had their own bathroom in their bedroom.  The
guest room had its own bathroom, and we boys shared a bathroom that opened
at each end into my cousins' bedrooms.  I figured that Uncle Mike was very
wealthy.

The year that I was fifteen, Matt and I were just settling down to go to
sleep on my first night there, when he said, "Hey Cuz, why don't you hop
into bed with me, and we'll whack off together?"

I was very surprised, but I was aroused at the same time.  My cock had
already started its rise to what I hoped would be future glory.  I hopped
under Matt's covers, but he quickly threw them off.  At sixteen he was
fully mature; at least his cock was.  He must have been a good seven fat
inches.  Matt was circumcised, and I was flabbergasted.  I had never seen a
cut cock in my life.  He reached into the drawer of his bedside table and
removed some sort of a tube.  He squeezed some of the contents onto his
right palm, and handed the tube to me.

He started to stroke himself with the greasy substance.  I had always done
the deed dry, but I also squeezed some goo on my palm, and laid the tube on
the table on my side of the bed.  We were both stroking away happily, when
I felt Matt's hand push mine away.  He took over the stroking and something
came over me.  Never before had someone else ever touched my cock.  It felt
so good.  It was the most pleasant first I had ever experienced thus far in
my life.  I felt an orgasm beginning in my toes, and starting its upward
drive.  My breathing grew shallow and labored.  Before I reached the point
of no return, Matt stopped stroking.

"Please don't stop," I begged.

"I have better things in mind."

Once again, he reached over to his table and retrieved a wad of tissues.
He began to wipe my cock clean of the gooey substance.  When he was
satisfied that I was dried off, he leaned over and started to stroke my
cock with his tongue.  I was amazed.  I had never read about, and certainly
never experienced oral sex in my life.  His licking got more frenzied and I
felt an orgasm starting again.  As soon as I did, he stopped again.

"Don't stop," I whimpered.

He didn't say anything, but suddenly I felt him greasing my cock again.  He
rolled over on his back and told me to mount him.  By now I was so horny
and ready to cum that I would have followed him into a fire.  After I
rolled on top of him, he wrapped his legs around me and told me to fuck
him.

Don't laugh; I had never heard the word fuck before.  I didn't know what to
do, so I swallowed my pride and asked him what the next step was, even
though I felt he would laugh at me.  Matt did not laugh.

Breathlessly he said, "Stick it up my ass, Cuz."

Cautiously I placed my cock at his crack and began a slow entry.  I slipped
in easily, too easily.  Well, I was generously lubed.  God, it felt so hot,
and wet, and so good.

"Start pumping," Matt instructed, as he began to move his ass on my shaft.
At the same time, he was constricting his asshole muscles in a steady
rhythm.  Needless to say I came almost immediately, and fell in a heap on
top of Matt.  He lifted my chin and began to kiss me.  He forced open my
lips and his tongue began to play with mine.  He introduced me to another
new sensation.  This was turning out to be the vacation of my life.

My cock softened and slipped out of Matt's ass.  "Can I fuck you?" he
asked.

"Yes, yes," I mumbled, and I assumed the position.  When his well greased
cock entered me, I felt a burning pain that startled me, but I vowed to be
as brave as Matt had been.  In seconds, the pain turned to pure pleasure.
I learned later that his mature cock was massaging my prostate.  When I
felt him shoot his seed way up my insides, I was enveloped in a feeling of
utter happiness and contentment.

Afterward, we lay silently side by side, holding hands and fondling our
cocks.  I asked Matt if he and his brother, Jamie, had ever done this
together and he told me that they hadn't.  He knew for a fact that Jamie
was straight.  I had no idea what he meant.  For some strange reason, I was
glad that he and Jamie had not done what I now considered to be our special
thing.  Many minutes passed and Matt whispered in the dark.

"Josh, I have loved you all my life.  Please make me a promise that you'll
go to college in San Francisco, and then live with me forever.  I want to
spend my life with you."

"Is it possible for two men to love each other?" I asked.  I had really
never heard of such a thing.

"It happens all the time," Matt assured me.

I was overwhelmed with all sorts of curious emotions.  We fell asleep
without another word being spoken.  The next morning I was awakened by Matt
giving me a blow job.  In a short time I had another mind blowing orgasm.
Matt's proposition was looking better and better all the time, but then
something happened that tossed me into a complete state of confusion.

I told you how uninformed I was about sexual matters.  Not for one second
did I think that what Matt and I had done was anything less than wonderful.
I certainly didn't believe that we had done anything wrong.  I couldn't
wait to tell my father all about it, and to describe the joy we boys had
felt.

After breakfast I took my dad aside, telling him that I wanted to talk to
him privately.  We went into Uncle Mike's den and I described everything
that had occurred between Matt and me the previous evening and this
morning.  I was glowing with happiness, but Dad was fidgeting in his seat,
and his blond headed face was getting redder and redder.  He didn't seem to
be angry, just embarrassed, and I couldn't fathom why.

"Don't tell anyone else about this," Dad said.  "I think we need to talk
more about it."

"But I want to tell Uncle Mike.  After all, Matt and I want to spend our
lives together."

"I'll tell him."

There was a knock on the door, and Uncle Mike came in.  "Come on, Bob," he
said to my dad, "Let's go ice skating.  We both need the exercise."

Christmas fell on Tuesday that year, and Uncle Mike had arranged to take
off work from Saturday until Thursday morning.  He had made all kinds of
plans for him and his older brother.  They saw each other only one time a
year, and they didn't want to waste a minute of our visit.

As soon as they were gone, I told Matt that I had told my dad that we had
sex, pledged our love, and wanted to spend eternity together.  I was
totally unprepared for his reaction.

"Are you a fucking madman?" he yelled.  "We'll be grounded for life, if not
disowned."  He grabbed his head and started moaning.  Suddenly his cell
phone rang.  He answered it but his hand was shaking.

"Hello," he barely managed to say.  Finally he said "Yes, Dad" several
times and then hung up.

"They went out in your dad's rental car.  They want us to take my dad's car
and meet them in a hotel on Market Street, room 208.  I'm sure that they're
going to kill us."  Matt had been driving since his sixteenth birthday
nearly a year now.  I could drive also, but only around the farm, and not
on the roads.

We arrived at the hotel and parked the car.  Matt was still shaking, so I
knocked on the door of room 208.  The door was opened only partially, just
enough for us to squeeze in.  I still saw nothing wrong with anything, but
Matt gasped.  Both our fathers were clad only in boxer shorts which barely
contained their ample packages.

The room had two queen size beds.  Our dads sat on one.  They were side by
side and their thighs were touching.  They motioned for us to sit on the
other bed.  We sat down facing them.  I felt very calm, but Matt was still
shivering.  Uncle Mike looked at my dad, who nodded at him, and it was my
dad who started speaking.

"You know boys," he began, "Uncle Mike and I grew up in our farm house
where there are only two bedrooms.  Not only did we share a bedroom, we
shared the standard size double bed you sleep on, Josh.  In the winter we
were isolated, sometimes for days.  We could not work in the fields, and
the whole family just stayed in bed for many hours.  Uncle Mike and I went
to the public school in town.  We learned all about sex there, but we had
no girls to practice on, so we began to practice making love with
ourselves.  Until Uncle Mike went off to college, we made love every night
just as you two boys did last night."

Dad paused here.  I guess he thought we needed to let it all sink in.
Finally he continued.

"We love your mothers, boys, but we will always love each other more.  We
can't bear to be separated any longer, so we have some big news for you.
Some publicly listed farming corporations have been making me offers to buy
the farm from me, and I have made a deal with one of them.  Uncle Mike has
a client who is selling his fitness center.  We are going to buy it, and I
am going to run it.  Your mom is going to go back to work for Uncle Mike.
As soon as the sale of the farm goes through, Josh, we'll look for a place
of our own here in San Francisco.  We just wanted you to know that we are
thrilled that you boys love each other so much.  As for us, we are looking
forward to all the opportunities we will have to make love after we move.
You boys have got to promise to keep our secret, and we'll keep yours until
you are ready to come out."

My dad had tears in his eyes so I jumped up and embraced him.  He was
almost naked, and I could feel his hard prick press against me.  Matt
jumped up also, and threw his arms around his father.  I couldn't help
notice that Matt was almost as tall as his dad and mine, and I was getting
there too.

"I think you boys should leave now," Uncle Mike said.  "My brother and I
have to make hay while the sun shines.  It might be months before you guys
move here."

"There's a wasted bed in this room," Matt said.  "Couldn't we stay awhile
and use it too?  Like you said, Dad, it might be months until Josh moves
here."

Our fathers looked at each other, and finally Uncle Mike shrugged his
shoulders and said, "What the hell."  He dropped his boxers and fell down
on the bed.  My dad dropped his shorts and fell on top of his brother.
They twisted into a sixty-nine position and went to work.  In seconds, Matt
and I were doing the same in the other bed.  I distinctly heard my dad say,
"Like fathers, like sons."

From the sounds coming from the other bed, I certainly knew when my dad and
my uncle came.  They sure were noisy lovers.  When Matt and I were done, I
glanced over at them.  They were smiling at us.  I couldn't resist, and I
jumped into bed and cuddled up against them.  My naivety knew no bounds.  I
saw nothing wrong with the fact that we were all naked.

When Matt saw what was going on, he joined us in the over loaded bed.  The
four of us, naked as the day we were born, wrapped ourselves in each
other's arms.  Nobody talked or dreamed of making love, but finally my dad
said, "We have more to tell you boys."  We unraveled from each other, and
Matt and I sat up to listen.

"We were sixteen and seventeen years old when our mother died.  After her
funeral, we heard our father wandering the house all night.  We could hear
him sobbing, and he was unable to tend to the farm, so we skipped school
and did what we could to help out.  About a week after Mom's death, Dad
came into our room and climbed into bed with us as we were getting ready to
retire for the night.  He was totally naked, but we were wearing boxers.

" `I can't sleep boys,' he confessed.  `I just can't sleep alone.'  He lay
down between us, and we tried to fall asleep in the cramped quarters.
After some time he took my arm and laid my hand on his cock.  He did the
same to Mike.  `Please boys,' he begged, `jerk me off.  I need it so
badly.'  We were horny teen agers, and we were happy to oblige.

"After we got him off, he shocked us by saying, `I know what you two boys
do together every night, and I've been mighty jealous.  Just go ahead and
do it now, and I'll join in if you don't mind.'  Needless to say we didn't
mind at all.  After that night, the three of us had sex together until Mike
went to USC.  Dad and I continued to have sex until he died, just a year
before Mike's wedding."

Matt and I were speechless, but as naïve as I was about sex, I wasn't
stupid.  I laid my hand on my dad's cock which suddenly sprang back to
life.  Not to be upstaged, Matt did the same to his father.  Our father's
asked us to fuck them and then they fucked us.  It was a day I'll never
forget, because it was the first time that Matt and I had sex with our
fathers.

                                 **********

My family moved to San Francisco the following June.  With the profits from
the sale of the farm, we bought a house almost as large as Uncle Mike's,
just four doors down from him.  The local high school evaluated me, and put
me in Matt's class.  My mom had done her work well.  I was a year younger
than the average person in my class, but I was at least a foot taller.  So
was Matt.

All four of our parents worked, and Matt's younger brother, Jamie, had a
girl friend he hung out with every afternoon until dinner time, so Matt and
I had lots of opportunity to make love after school, and to perfect our
love making technique.  No two boys could have been happier.

My father loved managing the gym, and my mother was walking on air now that
she was practicing law again.  I could only wonder how often my dad and
Uncle Mike could make love.  I found out that they got together in the gym
every time Uncle Mike went there to "work out."  Matt and I began to "work
out" also and we would often join our fathers in my dad's office.  We would
lock the door and go hard at it.  (Pun intended).  I often wondered if our
dads were neglecting their wives.  Not to worry.  Those two studs had
plenty to go around.

Matt and I went to UCLA, so that we could get away from home, but still not
be too far away.  Uncle Mike came to Los Angeles on business quite often.
He would stay over in our dorm room, and none of us neglected our needs.  I
can safely say that college days were fun days.

After college we went east to study law at Fordham University.  I was a
long way from the farm when we were partying in New York City.  After law
school, we went to work for Uncle Mike, and got our own apartment.  By
then, of course, I knew what it was to be gay, and the bigotry and stigma
attached to it.  Living in a gay mecca like San Francisco helped soften the
situation.  We finally came out to our mothers; and to the world.  Nobody
was surprised in the least.

Dad, Uncle Mike, Matt and I continued to "work out" as often as possible at
the gym.  I was no longer naïve about sex, but I never once thought that
what we did was wrong.  It was too beautiful, too wonderful, to be a sin.

After awhile, I had trouble remembering back to the days when I grew up on
a farm in Minnesota, and to a time when I had no idea that my penis could
be used for anything besides peeing.