Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2006 10:26:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: rich bundner <petevel@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Threshing Crew

When I was a teenager, I had a chance encounter with
two neighborhood boys that to this day ranks as the
best sexual experience of my life.

I was raised on a farm in Wisconsin, and as was the
custom in those days before farmers owned their own
combines, they would rent a threshing machine to
harvest their grains.  The neighbors would follow the
machine from farm to farm so that each farmer had
enough help to complete his harvest in a single day.
Although always a day of hard work, it was also always
a day of great anticipation.  In addition to securing
their harvest, the farmers also renewed their
commitment to each other and the wives always came
along and spent the day visiting while they prepared a
veritable feast for the famished farmers once their
chores were completed.  These dinners were served in
the outdoors as none of the farm houses was large
enough to accommodate such a large crew of men.
Large, makeshift, plank tables were set up and stools
of every sort served as chairs.  A cold beer was
always set at each place setting to quench the thirst
of the weary workers.

As is the case in most such gatherings, people
gathered in generational groupings so that I naturally
found myself seated at the far end of the table with
two of my young neighbors.  Jack was the older of the
two boys, tall and wiry with a well-defined body and
about my age of 19 or so.  He wore bib overalls over
his shirtless body and I could smell his armpits every
time he reached out for food.  The other kid was a
little younger, maybe 17 or 18, and his name was
Bobby, a distant cousin of mine.  He was about 5 foot
6 and had a hard, compact body that just could not be
concealed  under his formfitting jeans and snug T
shirt.  As the dinner wore on, some of the farmers
left their seating and gathered in groups for
conversation or smoking.  Jack was the first to notice
that some of the men had left their beers untouched so
we scouted the table until we each came up with a
beer.  After drinking these, Bobby noticed that there
were several bottles with partial contents still
remaining, so we made a game out of draining the
bottles into our empty bottles until we came up with
another beer each.  By then we were quite exhilarated
and the conversation turned to fucking around with
chicks and babes.

Jack suddenly leaps up and says "gotta take a leak,
man."  Bobby says, "me, too," and as he jumps up,
turns to me and says "come on, Rich."  We head down
around the barn and out of sight of the folks.  Jack
pulls out his schlong which is pale white and the
longest prick I had ever seen to that point in my
life.  The thing that struck me most was the nozzle of
foreskin that hung down at least an inch over the
head.  Bobby and I both pulled our dicks out  and I
noticed the similarity of our pricks, both with big
heads covered by snug foreskins.  Jack started pissing
like a race horse, but failed to retract his foreskin,
thereby spraying piss all over the place from the
nozzle of his fluttering foreskin.  Bobby and I had
both started pissing, but when I felt Jack's piss hit
my hand and even a sprinkle in my face.  I sprung an
involuntary boner which scared the shit out of me.  I
was about to flee the scene when I noticed that Bobby
also had a hardon and was stroking his inflamed prick.
"It's OK, Rich. You wanna fool around with us?  We
like to get off after a hard day's work."

Without thinking a second thought, I said "sure, let's
go into the granary."  I felt safe there since there
was a small window from which one could see if anyone
was coming near.  I had often jacked off here when I
could find no other place with privacy.  The shed
itself was small, with barely enough room for the
three of us to stand in a circle.  Jack was the first
to drop his overalls and his incredible nine-inch
prick, now fully erect, jutted straight out from his
pale, trim abdomen.  His foreskin had hardly lost any
length but clung snugly to the bulbous head at the end
of his white prick pole.  Bobby and I both dropped our
jeans and admired our identical pricks, both leaking
precum from our moist foreskins.  In the small
enclosure, the smell of our uncutness was overwhelming
as the small room  trapped the air around us. Our
grainy sweat added to the gamey odors of uncut dick.
"Go head, Jack, pull it back so we can get some more
smell," Bobby said.

Jack tugged at his lengthy foreskin, exposing  part of
his crimson prickhead which was coated with a whitish
secretion.  Bobby became extremely aroused by the
sight and smell of Jack's prick, and a long, syrupy
stand of precum dripped to the floor from his
prickhead. "Heck that smells  good," Bobby cried.  By
now we were all jacking our foreskins furiously,
mixing our precum with our cheesy secretions.  The
smell of uncut dick was so intense that it seemed to
release within us a primordial sex drive. The sound of
our moist foreskins gave off a clicking sound as we
jacked our slippery prickheads.  We were all
mesmerized by the sight, smell and sound of our
activity and a silence fell among us.  By now Jack's
long, slippery foreskin had whipped up a frothy
mixture of cheesy precum and Bobby could no longer
resist its lure.  He grabbed Jack's long prick and
stripped the foreskin all the way back, exposing the
huge, plum-shapped prickhead. After massaging the
cheesy secretions over the head, he ran his fingers
under the ridge, releasing even more of Jack's uncut
smell.

Suddenly, Jack grabbed my prick and stripped my
foreskin back  A fresh whiff of uncut smell hit the
air and I was surprised at the intense odor I had
built up from a hard day's work in the sun.  As Jack
massaged my prick, I no longer felt inhibited from
joining in and I reached out for Bobby's throbbing
prick.  "Go ahead, skin that fucker," Jack
instructed..  I took hold of Bobby's snug foreskin and
stripped it back.  His smell was as intense as mine
and I noticed that he had an even greater buildup than
Jack or I.  We were all three rapidly approaching the
point of no return.

What surprised me next is that Bobby scooped up a
handful of Jack's frothy secretions and held it to his
nose.  He started to moan as he cupped his hand over
his face, inhaling all of Jack's fetid secretions..
This seemed to really set him off as his moaning
rapidly increased as I frigged his engorged prick.  I
noticed too that Jack's prickhead had ballooned into a
huge, near-purple plum.  Without being able to control
myself, I suddenly let out a loud cry as I blasted my
cumload across Jack's pale torso.

"Gonna jazz now!" Bobby cried out.  Barely had my
first blast landed when Bobby and Jack started
exchanging blast for blast as their cumloads torpedoed
at each other. My own prick continued involuntary
contractions as my cumload washed across Jack's trim
belly.  We clung tightly to each other as our orgasms
subsided.  The chlorine-like fragrance of our youthful
orgasms was so intense that I turned around to see if
I had knocked over a bottle of Chlorex..

Then Bobby quickly disentangled himself and grabbed an
old gunny sack which he used to wipe himself clean.
"Gotta get goin'," he said, as he handed the gunny
sack to Jack, pulled up his jeans and left the
granary.  Not wishing to end this remarkable
experience, I sank to my knees to admire Jack's
beautiful skin tube.  Just as I was about ready to
take it into my mouth, Jack pulled away and smirked
"don't you go queer on me."  He pulled up his overalls
and left without another word.

I lingered there for a long time, thinking of what had
happened.  I still have that gunny sack which brings
me back to that moment with near total recall whenever
I hold it in my hands.  I left home soon after this
incident and I never saw Jack or Bobby again.  I heard
though that Jack had married a neighborhood girl and
raised a large family.  Bobby had gone off to a
Chicago and married but I knew little else about him.
I guess I was the only one who turned out gay, but I
am forever grateful to my young neighbors who shared
their budding manhood with me.