Date: Mon, 08 Nov 2004 14:52:18 +0800
From: James MacMannis <james_macmannis@hotmail.com>
Subject: aboriginal-farmboy / aboriginal-farmboy-06

Aboriginal Farmboy 06

Author: James MacMannis <james_macmannis@hotmail.com>
Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-06 (adult-youth, interracial, rural)
Archive; 'Aboriginal Farmboy #6'{James MacMannis}(BB, interr, rural)[]
Homosexual, young male sex
Adult-youth
Interracial
Rural setting


ABORIGINAL FARMBOY - PART SIX

Copyright (c) 2004 by James MacMannis
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Chris had followed the scheme laid out by his father many years before.  The
vegetable beds ran in conventional large rectangular blocks, well spaced for
movement of machinery and people and aligned to take advantage of natural
drainage.  I am not a vegetable grower, but I could appreciate at a glance
that the layout was efficient and practical.  Many of the plots were vacant,
no doubt the result of frost damage that Chris had mentioned to me earlier.
Some of the beds had young plants in them I could not identify, others well
developed.  "These are various beans and peas, spinach and carrots," Chris
pointed out a few of the more mature plots.  "We lost all the tomatoes,
turnips, radishes, swedes and onions from the cold.  I put out potatoes,
pumpkins and squashes a couple of weeks ago and you can see them coming on
quite well."  The last were the seedlings I had noted.

"This all looks great, Chris.  You must work extremely hard to manage this
lot.  How can you find time to come to my place as well?"  I asked him,
genuinely impressed with the very well tended plot and the scale of
operations.  This was no small backyard garden: it was a reasonably large
commercially viable operation.  "Nick helps me out a lot when Connie is away
at university.  We do a lot together early in the morning, then again when
he gets home from school at night.  The rest of the day, until I started
doing things at your place, I just did the jobs that can be done by a single
worker."  We walked on to the workshop shed at one side of the property
where a noticeable space indicated the Volvo wagon, still parked at the
grain terminal in town.  "We will have to pick up your car today when we
take Connie in for his dressings," I made the note more to myself, but
uttered it nonetheless.

In the shed were an array of implements for vegetable farming and general
property maintenance, including a small tractor and a light truck of
probably 3 or 4 tonne capacity.  Some very new equipment stood to one side,
but I could not determine what it was.  Everything was clean and neat,
showing regular use and preparedness for continual usage.  "So, with
everything set up the way you have, and the great condition of the place,
what is the greatest problem you are facing for generating a cash flow?"  My
question grew from amazement at how well the place was laid out and how
efficient it appeared.

Chris answered the question.  "We don't really have a problem in generating
a cash flow, James.  It is just that we had those severe frosts a month or
so ago and that killed off all our current stock and new seedlings.  We had
just bought ourselves a new rotary hoe at the beginning of the winter, then
Connie had to get a new computer and a whole lot of books, so it cleaned out
our reserves.  Normally we would have been producing right through winter,
but this year was not so kind to us as we had expected.  But it is only
short term - you can see already that the new stock is well underway and it
will only be a matter of a few months and we will be in the clear again."

"What about the water supply?  You were asking me about my irrigation system
when we were down on my place the other day.  How do you get your water
now?"  I was intrigued by this set up and how well the boys had managed it.
"Dad arranged a high volume water supply from the district pipeline when he
bought this place,"  Connie explained to me.  "We use that entirely for the
watering of our plot.  Most of our efforts, because we try to be
super-economical with water usage, are hand watering.  Chris told me how you
have yours set up through manifolds and underground piping.  We always
wanted to do something like that, but didn't have a good idea how to set it
up."  I thought about the idea of a dam, but then realised their property
area was not sufficient to include a facility like that.  I really was
feeling quite excited that there was something tangible I could do for the
boys to help improve what was obviously an already good set up.  My mind
started turning over the practicalities of constructing a suitable
irrigation system for them.

We walked all around their 8-acre block before heading back to the house.
Their property is somewhat higher in altitude than my own.  In the distance
I could look down into the valley where my place is, although it was not
possible to actually see my land due to the fold of the countryside.  The
drive up to their place involves following a river to the head of my valley
and then around the long loop of the railway line, through the village, and
out to their place.  I could see why Chris had taken the option of walking
across on the first visit to my place, because it was not all that far in a
direct line.  There could never be a direct road between us, however,
because of the rugged nature of the intervening breakaway country.

Chris became busy making coffee when we returned to the house and Connie
asked if I could help him use the toilet.  "I need to piss," he said
urgently.  Of course he couldn't undo his trousers and up to this point the
two brothers had been assisting him.  We made our way to the toilet.  Most
Australian toilets are located in a separate room, unlike the bathroom
concept common in, for example, the USA and some European countries.  Many
toilets are barely big enough to contain the cistern and pedestal, but the
toilet in their house was a fairly large room and it was not difficult for
the two of us to be in there at the same time.  I noticed a rack of
magazines within hand reach of the pedestal, an important necessity for
those times when one has to sit and contemplate.

Connie did not seem at all uncomfortable at the thought of me handling him.
I suppose he had no option really, except to wait for his brother.  Either
way, he had to have someone open his trousers and take out his penis so he
could perform the function while that someone held him.  To be truthful, I
was looking forward to the intimacy this opportunity would give me, even if
that were all we could ever do together.  I unzipped his clothing, because
Connie was not wearing underwear, his penis was easily extracted.  While I
held it, Connie positioned himself at the toilet pedestal and began to
urinate.

I looked carefully at what I had in my hand and found an identically perfect
penis as those that adorned his two brothers.  The size and shape were the
same, the foreskin covering his head in a similar manner.  "Do you like the
skin back when you piss?" I asked him.  "Sometimes I don't pull it back.
Other times just a little.  If you are comfortable with skinning me back,
please do it enough so my head is about a quarter out."  I took a firmer
hold and gently pulled down his shaft, the foreskin sliding easily away from
the tip of his penis.  In my grip I could feel a thickening of the shaft and
I glanced down to see that he had grown partially erect.  Connie must have
been holding on to his piss for some time, as he had a considerable amount
to discharge, but eventually the flow finished and I shook his penis to
clear the final drops before sliding the foreskin back to its intended
place.

As I began to put his still slightly stiff penis back inside his clothing,
Connie moaned softly.  "I haven't been touched by an older man since my Dad
died.  Chris has told you, I expect, that we three boys have always taken
care of each other's needs, and I love them for doing that.  But I so much
miss having Dad to sleep with.  You are just like him, James.  I want you to
hold me like he did."  His penis was filling in my hand and was now very
hard.  I squeezed him softly and he responded by leaning in to me, his head
resting on my shoulder, and his stiff dick pushing gently into my grip.

I held Connie firmly, his foreskin fully in place over the head, and began
to work his persistent tool.  He nuzzled into my neck, like his brothers had
done, and I felt the warmth of his breath as his breathing increased.
"Would you like to do this some other place, Connie?" I asked without
thinking.  "Sure I would," he replied, "But I cant lay down with you.  I
guess here is as good as anywhere.  Oh, I wish I could hold your penis too,
but that will have to wait for another time.  I am sorry, James."  I told
him not to think of that right now, just to relax and let the release he
needed flow over him.  My penis was needing attention as well, so I pulled
my zipper down and took out my own stiff penis, holding it alongside
Connie's.  I was wanking him fully now, head to base of his tightly
stretched shaft, the skin supple and yet detailed with pulsing veins and the
hidden shape of his distended head.  "Oh James," Connie murmured.  "Oh
James.  I am going to come very soon.  It has been over a week since the
last time I wanked."  "Shh, shh.  Don't talk anymore.  Relax and let me
bring your man juice out," I told him.

I gripped harder on his penis, feeling it swell to the greater size of his
impending orgasm.  He pushed against my penis as I stroked the two living
pieces of meat together.  His penis was shorter than mine but about the same
thickness.  So as to reach my pelvis, Connie pushed himself over the top of
mine, making my penis thrust into his testicles.  Just as his head touched
me, his penis laying the full length of mine, my grip strong on both of us,
I felt his eruption.  I have always been a slow release ejaculator, so it
was a pleasure for me to have had the shooting sensations of Chris and Nick.
  Now Connie was showing me that he was like his brothers, and I could feel
the strong rhythmic pulsing of his penis in my own.  His semen sprayed into
my pelvis at the base of my penis, shot after shot of thick white juice
frothing in the agitation of my wanking hand.  Connie was gasping, still
leaning on my shoulder, continually whispering "James.  James.  James."  I
did not try to count how many times he shot his load, but the amount of
spunk generated was copious.  I used the juice to lubricate our penises and
continued wanking him as I brought myself quickly to the final stage.
Connie was still shooting little bits of his semen when I began to spurt out
my own load into his balls.  Finally we had no more to offer and I simply
held the both of us as our erections deflated.

Both our trousers were splattered with our combined releases.  There was no
way we could disguise the fluids there and I wondered what we could do to
clean up.  "Do you need a hand, James?" Chris asked as he stuck his head
through the doorway.  "Looks like you are handling my big brother fairly
well," he added with a cheeky grin.  "Perhaps you better clean up and put on
some fresh clothes."  I really was not sure if I should be embarrassed or
not, but neither Chris nor Connie appeared to be, so I thought I would flow
with the situation.  "Have you got a garbage bag or something we can put
Connie's hands into?" I asked him.  Chris found a bag while I was easing
Connie out of his clothes.  I wrapped his hands as I had before, then took
off my own clothes.  I was surprised when I turned to find that Chris had
undressed himself.  He led us to the bathroom where he ran the shower to a
comfortable temperature before ushering the three of us in.

It was not a big shower stall, but we did fit together reasonably well.
Chris was fully erect, his penis pressing strongly against my leg.  Connie
had his arms out and was sort of side on to us, yet we all were somehow
facing each other.  Connie was still hard, but I had already lost my
rigidness: I am now usually only a single shooter.  I took hold of Chris and
Connie, Chris throbbing in need of release.  With the warm water cascading
over us I gently massaged both penises, noting that Connie quickly became
fully hard again.  Chris hugged me tightly, his penis thrusting into my hand
with a haste that was borne of his need.  Connie, although so recently
satisfied, showed that his stamina was probably as strong as his younger
brother's.  Within a very short time the boys were approaching the final
stages of their sexual mission and I felt Chris first, then Connie shortly
after, swell in size.  Chris spurted his semen in great gushes, always
amazing me at the quantity and force of his ejaculation.  White juices hit
Connie and myself in the chest and abdomen regions as Chris spurted out his
load.  Connie reached his climax as Chris's semen started to drip down onto
my hand wanking him.  He did not shoot anywhere near so much or for so long,
but I felt some of his semen on my skin and looked down to see it rinsing
away under the shower flow.

Connie leaned into my shoulder, like he had before, sagging in the pleasure
of his orgasm.  Chris had tightened his embrace as he was in the final
throws of his ejaculation and still clung to me in a desperate manner, as if
his very life depended on me.  I was overcome with the emotion of the
situation.  I felt as though my body could not possibly contain the extent
of joy and wellbeing and love and wholeness that was crowding into me.  Here
I held two of the three most important people in my life.  They had given me
of their seed in love and I could not contain the expression in my physical
person.  This was akin to a great spiritual event, a rebirth into a deeper
kind of love and understanding that I had ever imagined possible.

I remembered again the love I had felt for their father.  I remembered again
the many times we had shared our love in much the same way as these boys had
now shared with me.  I remembered, too, the bitter pain I felt when I could
no longer be with Nikolas.  Could it be that somehow my love for Nikolas and
his love for me had been transferred to this time and place and with his own
sons?  Could it be that there is a means of assigning of his love to me into
his own flesh and blood?  I had no answer for the question, only the
tangible proof of our oneness, the boys beautiful penises resting lightly in
my still clenched hands.

Shaking off the reverie of the past, I clung to the present with all my
might, surprising both the boys with the intensity of my hug as I embraced
them both.  I resolved that I would not let them go from me as I had once
foolishly let their father go.  I kissed Connie and Chris individually, then
we three came together, our lips caressing each other's as we joined under
the warm water.  This was a beautiful kiss, a sharing of love, a sharing of
fraternity, a sharing of paternity.  I knew that these boys loved each
other, and had thought it a love borne from the cruel necessity of survival.
  Perhaps it had been that way, but now was blossoming into a new kind of
love that had far deeper anchor points in the soul and heart of mankind.

This feast of emotion flamed for several minutes, the waters continually
washing over us and keeping us warm.  Connie could not have been terribly
comfortable with the awkward position he was forced to hold, and he began to
squirm as he adjusted the twisted muscles of his back.  I realised we could
not stay in that position any longer.  Besides, Chris, still raging hard,
was pushing himself between Connie and myself to maintain the stimulus on
his organ.  I realised that for Chris once was not usually enough and that
he would need further release.  I let go of my embrace of Connie and Chris
and knelt on the shower floor, turning Chris slightly so that his rigid
penis was aimed at my mouth, the puckered foreskin looking like an eye about
to open.  There was an audible gasp as I took him in, causing me to remember
in that instant that Nick had done the same thing when I first took him this
way.  Connie softly said to Chris "It is okay to let James do this to you,
Chris.  I know we have never done that, but a lot of boys do.  My friend at
university has taught me about sucking, and it is good.  Take it easy,
little brother."

I had not realised that this was a new experience for the brothers.  When
Nick reacted with a kind of shock I thought it was some respect or fear of
having oral sex with me.  But, as it transpires, neither of the younger
brothers had experienced this means of stimulation before.  No wonder Nick
had responded in such a strong orgasm.  Perhaps I would see a similar result
with Chris, I wondered, as I began to taste his delicious penis, traces of
his precum residual at the tip of his foreskin despite the flushing shower.
I eased my tongue inside his hood, releasing more of the tasty juice onto my
tongue as I teased his sensitive head.  My tongue found the ridge at the
back of his glans and I followed it around, my tongue inside his firm
sheath.  Chris writhed as new sensations wracked his body, trying not to
push in to my mouth yet unsure as to what action was required of him.

Connie, now soft, took control of Chris.  Placing his arms on Chris's
shoulders, he leant towards his brother above me and drew their heads
together.  I glanced up to see their lips meeting, both boys with their eyes
closed, either because of the shower water or in bliss, I could not tell.  I
continued nursing Chris's grossly distended penis, feeling the shape change
as he became all the more excited and his orgasm neared.  I withdrew my
tongue quickly from the tip and grasped his wet bottom, pulling him deeply
into me.  He had no time to lunge or thrust, his orgasm slammed him hard and
he flooded my throat with his semen.  Since our first meeting at my house I
had wanted so much to experience Chris pouring out his love juices into my
mouth, and now that the experience was on me I found it to be so much more
than I had hoped for.  Chris was totally helpless as the immense tide of his
orgasm took over his being.  He gyrated like a puppet on a string, not at
all coordinated in his movements, as wave after wave of the phenomenon
flowed through him and out of his jerking penis into my mouth.  Connie could
not support him, his arms sufficient only to hold his brother in the
modified kind of embrace he had used, and, realising this, I held tightly to
Chris's pivoting hips until the spasms subsided.  I could not contain the
semen in my mouth, despite having swallowed huge amounts of the ejaculate,
and regretfully I released some to be washed away with the water.  The
heaving stopped and I released Chris's slowly subsiding penis so I could
stand and hug him again.  I needed so much to hold this boy, to feel him
close to me.  Oh, how he reminded me of his father, who many years before
had occupied the same place in my heart as these brothers were now
reclaiming.  I held him tightly as his respiratory and circulatory functions
came back to normal.

We did not need to be in the shower any longer, so I turned off the water.
There was nothing we could express in words that we did not mutually feel in
the deepest recesses of our minds, so we did not waste words trying to say
something.  Chris helped me towel off Connie before he also dried me.  I
towelled him off and we dressed and went in to the kitchen.  Chris's coffee
was waiting for us, still piping hot because he had covered the pot with a
cosy, so he poured our mugs and we sat to enjoy the drink and a cigarette
together, relaxing in the strong afterglow of our recent experience.

It was already midday, so I suggested we make our way in to town.  We
stopped at the village store to collect mail and to get some hamburgers for
lunch, then drove on into town.  The hospital was nowhere near as busy
today, having passed the crisis of the storm, and Connie was able to get an
inspection of his arms and new dressings at the appointed time.  From the
hospital we drove to the grain terminal where we found Grant busy arranging
building contractors to repair the damage to his terminal facility.  He
enquired as to how things were progressing and, when he was satisfied,
excused himself to get on with the pile of work he had to perform.  He gave
me the keys to Connie's car and I passed them over to Chris, who would drive
it home to my place.  "It is almost time for school to get out," I observed.
  "Do you want to pick up Nick or shall I do it?"  "It is on the way out of
town, so we could both go there," Chris suggested.

A string of bright orange school busses were pulled up in a parking bay at
the front of the school when we arrived.  Further down the roadway was a car
park where a lot of parents waited in their vehicles to collect their
children.  We pulled in there, finding two bays close together.  Chris had
recognised the bus that went to our district, so he walked back to the
parking bay to wait for Nick.  Connie and I heard the siren announcing the
end of the school day and it was not too much longer before Chris emerged
from among the hundreds of school children now evacuating the building, a
beaming Nick in tow.

News of the day's events poured out from the brothers until I reminded them
that we could have this conversation at home.  Nick piled into the car with
Chris and the two vehicles pulled out of the car park and headed for home.



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