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Farmboy Foolin', Part10

by Billy Jay


Les's mother died when he was twelve. She died suddenly from a ruptured aneurysm just minutes after she saw Les off on the school bus that October day. Blue sky day, but it was horrible. The tragedy was compounded when Les's father, who had always been a little sharp with his kids, became ever more irritable and his children were not exempt from his angry outbursts which worsened each year. When Les was sixteen his father was so stressed by a threatened crop failure that he struck Les for the first time in his life, giving him a slap across his face "for talking back." This took place in front of the itinerant farm workers and it mortified him because Les was friends with them. After this incident Les struggled even harder to please his Dad, but the man seemed beyond reach. Then, two years later, his father made a deal with the O'Brians to lend Les to them during a period of trouble at their farm. Les was told that he would be required to work the summer at the O'Brian farm, but what his father didn't know was that Les had had a long standing crush on Ned O'Brian and that sharing a bedroom with Ned for the summer was the best gift his father ever gave him! His Dad was not an evil man, just stressed. In doing a little good for the O'Brians, he unknowingly gave his son a reason to live. Inwardly, bathed daily in erotic fantasies about being with other boys, Les now had a fantasy about to be made real. He was shouting a big 'high five' "Yes!!" to it. * * * * * On their first workday Ned and Les blatantly set all parental agendas aside. The boys let their passion play ace to ace, hard cock to hard cock. Now, in hour two of their first workday they had progressed in their private labor to where they were in a full naked fuck: Les had taken Ned's cock deep into himself. With his huge balls drawn up tight-as-a-drumhead and his sprung hard cock thrown into complete sensory overload, the kind of thing that happens to a guy getting fucked up the ass, Les was learning the wonders of heavy dick strokes across the prostate--the gland that sets off the charge. He would shoot his load with hardly a touch to his hardened penis if things kept up like this. Oh, those strokes, in and out, over and over ever harder and harder, they were magic! They primed two pair of balls! Ned would grunt as he pushed in and Les would moan on the withdrawal stroke, which hit his hot prostate's cum button. He said "Give!!" to Ned and Ned gave it to him! Things sped up as they sexed each other up to the hilt. Strokes in--"Ugh!" And stokes out--"Ahhh!!" Over and over "Ugh!" and "Ahhh!!" Ugh-Ahhh! Ugh-Ahhh! Ned was feeling thunder in his balls. In sex lightning strikes after the thunder! His load was ready, he was about to let his load go home into Les with the both of them in breathless ecstasy. Like the batter whose whole body is put into hitting a high fly ball that turns into a grand slam home run, there is that second when all the announcer can say is "Well, it's outta here!!" Ned's grand slam call was the expression of his whole body: "I'm cummming!!" and he blew his load deep into Les's wild-ass pussy. Les, his bitch-boy, moaned at the strike of the cum-shot given to him, but like all bitch-boys he got double pleasure. Ned's deliverance stroke did it and as Les ejaculated irregular spills of cum from his spewing cockhead, he lifted his head to get a look at it hit Ned's tight abs and then on the second and third shots, his own creased six pack. The spill of jism here and there was proof that he could cream with the best of them and that the title 'slutboy' was his. Les dropped his head back on the bed and, taking a deep breath, he felt the exhaustion of his work. Ned, however, had to plunge his cock deep into Les one more time to work out the very last little bit of his seed. Then, he laid his head down on Ned's chest, his cock having done all it could. They were finished. They had not yet begun. For about a half a minute they lay silent and inert together. They were taking it all in. There was satisfaction to be sure. All the sex pressure had drained from them. All the years they were forced into good boy jerk-off only celibacy were behind them and that knowledge was a blessing that removed all their anger and frustration. Sex is good mental health at work... After this half-minute of healing and bliss they pressed their bodies together in a way that was not passion, but rather a sign of commitment. They found a new way of kissing each other that seemed to eject them from this planet and throw them through dark starry space their bodies landing on some forgotten Jovian moon. And splatted on that desolate moonscape they found that commitment was a tough piece of work. This was their beginning. The jism on their abdomens had turned to glue--a kind of sticky muck, cold, unwanted. If gay were not the only way for them they might feel some sense of sin at this point, but they knew who they were and knew only this: They had so much they needed to say to one another. It was like they were just born--yes, born again! They looked at each other with disbelief that their good fortune was here and touchable. Les felt something under his butt. Reaching down he found the unopened condom that had been buzzing around them throughout all their love-making. He showed it to Ned. Ned said, "I'm negative...." Les said, "I'm negative, but what if…" Ned took the condom and just shook his head dejectedly. "We need to talk." "Yeah, said Les, but we better get to work--your Mom and Dad will want to see something more than two cum-coated farm boys when they get back." To be continued Let me hear from you about condom use and stuff. jimhart42@aol.com

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27 Gay Erotic Stories from Billy Jay

A Durable Sex Life

A guy with a really hard slap-shot erection feels like his tool is bound with cinched-up thick leather straps and at the core of this bull-leather fuck tool he carries a totally awesome sensation like something is jammed down the center of his cock, an inflamed wire that spreads out with leads to both his balls, feeling like they're pulsing and radiating something that must happen,

A Major Fuck

Sir, Can I have a pull on your dick? Yes, but you must start out with the lightest touch you can. I like to feel it. I like to feel it good. Crunching down his boxers in a move devoid of strain, a move that was athletic and masterful, he exposed his organ and I almost took it in my mouth when I felt the shock that came from seeing his erection. He was a major and I was a

Andanda's Way

Pops, darts and twirls. Twinkling of half looks at one another. Longtime stretch of this partytime non-encounter is that he and I can't seem to get close enough to one another to satisfy the need to have each other in full view. What agony. I'm seeing enough that I have a drilled heat shimmering in my insides that is intensified by the absolute necessity to appear cool as I move in

Big Dick in Evenin' Time

Teddy was a pick-up artist, which was clear. And me, I stay clear of trickers--AIDS is big in my head and that's not my game, to die of AIDS. I'm always doing a self-test of what it is I think I'm doing when I head into a gay bar: I don't drink. I'll order a gin and tonic and nurse it with a big tip up front. Basically, I'm looking for a clean guy for some kind of relationship that

Different Strokes For Me And Franky

Wildwood was our target. The 'Coney Island' of South Jersey is what it is and is the only place to go when you want to hang out looking for excitement. Franky and I worked for Sears in Receiving and got each other hooked on the idea of taking our three days off on the 4th of July in Wildwood. It's a place for guys on the make and just about anybody who's lookin' for a good time.

Farmboy Foolin', Part 1

Sitting on the edge of his chair at the kitchen table, Ned's right leg was bouncing rapidly and as he leaned over the table his muscular arms encircled the bowl of Cheerios he was spooning into himself while he gazed blankly at the sports page. Baseball season was in its early days and he liked seeing photos of the players in their tight pants more than he liked the game.

Farmboy Foolin', Part 2

Whoever said it was OK for guys to be gay? Dumb question. But not for Ned. And Lord knows this dumb question must be around--it's rare for dumb questions to exist isolated in only one individual. That would be genius, wouldn't it? No this dumb, right-on question that was aching inside Ned was in Lester's gut, too. In Ned, whose unrealized vagrant sexuality was throwing the furniture

Farmboy Foolin', Part 3

Jim O'Brian stood behind his wife on their farmhouse porch with his arms wrapped warmly around her, rocking the two of them gently side to side. After 30 years of almost non-stop labor they saw in their family and abroad their hundreds of acres of well-tended farmland something that filled them with deep joy. The pleasure of this particular morning's snuggle on the porch was knocked

Farmboy Foolin', Part 4

At puberty a boy's eyes grow. His first intentional ejaculation with its bracing horror and glazed trance of dilated pupils fixed to his hard dick is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that triggers every shaggy rocketing of cum from then on. He is awarded a hot body--a hot body with more erections than a field of weeds. This morning on the farm Ned and Les were hot-wired to get back

Farmboy Foolin', Part 5

Les was certain as any virgin boy could be that he could tease and seduce Ned just by fitting himself into a perfect pair of cock-and-ass jeans. Seeing himself in them got him to feeling like a rooster and he let out one hell of a Rebel Yell to let the world know he was ready to let ride, oh yeah, Sally, oh yeah, RIDE! But it was that yell that jumped out of him that brought Ned

Farmboy Foolin', Part 6

Back when Ned was in the 10th grade at McFarland High, he tried doing something that gave him a lasting scare. He had seen the way Lonnie, the class queer, walked and Ned, who had just admitted to himself that he was gay, wanted to try walking like Lonnie to see what it was all about. He picked a place where nobody could see him and in a few minutes he had it down: he could walk as

Farmboy Foolin', Part 7

"Did ya swallow it?" Les looked up at Ned with a sly look, his mouth partly open. At each corner of his wide mouth were small streams of cum and you could see on his tongue a little lacey evidence of the creaming he had gotten from Ned. But he stuck his tongue way out the way a kid does and said, Yeth, I-think-I-god-eth-awe." Then, to drive his joke home he switched to a mock snob

Farmboy Foolin', Part 8

Ned's eyes popped open when he felt his dick getting hard again. He had been having a dream that he was a trapeze artist and that he was coupled with Les high in the circus tent having sex, and the excitement was derived from their swinging so high with a degree of pride that was above all fear of death. The high-flying dream of sexual prowess worked on his recumbent cock and, with

Farmboy Foolin', Part 9

Les left Ned's hot embrace and scampered to the bathroom to prep his ass so that Ned could do everything to him that comes with a good fucking--his first. Their first. Ned was left alone in a highly aroused condition. Even without an aching hard-on he hated being apart from Les. He picked up Lester's bib overalls from the floor and went through his buddy's pockets to find the condoms

Farmboy Foolin', Part10

Les's mother died when he was twelve. She died suddenly from a ruptured aneurysm just minutes after she saw Les off on the school bus that October day. Blue sky day, but it was horrible. The tragedy was compounded when Les's father, who had always been a little sharp with his kids, became ever more irritable and his children were not exempt from his angry outbursts which worsened each

Farmboy Foolin', Part11

Two naked lovers jostled one another intentionally in the hall as they made their way to the shower. Ned pushed and tickled Les and Les came back laughing with his own poking finger. They were making some headway towards the shower the way Daffy Duck of cartoon fame made headway--bouncing off walls. Les took up the goofy thing and turned the tables on Ned, pushing him up against the

Felling The Big Pine

The windows are open and a light cool breeze is blowing into my room where I'm stuck in a pile of books required for my Landscape Design 102 course. The finals are close and I have already shot half the weekend reviewing the course materials. It's Saturday night and I'm dull to the books, drifting into a dreamy thing that is a mix of this text which covers the varieties

Flyer Boyz Obligato

He's wearing dirty white jeans and a gray T-shirt. Bondage and masturbation indicated. He doesn't look the type--they never do. But fuck man, he's got the bod I like an' in this soaking rain we've gotta hustle to get a whole sack of damn flyers delivered to four blocks of houses. I'd dump them, but the bastard told us he'd drive around to see 'em before he paid us. We're keepin'

Fratboy High Rollers

"Gotta tell you somethin' you already know." "Yeah, what's that?" "You've been checkin' me out." "Yeah, you like that?" "Yeah--yes I do. But it drives me nuts not doin' somethin' about it. The other guys went up to Newgate and won't be back ‘til tomorrow. Like to see what I really look like?" "I'm game. But tell ya what--we both make an entrance to the room and come in on the

Gettin' Him Good

Soren and I had just about had done all we could in making a clearing near the pond for his family's upcoming reunion picnic. With mowers and saws and whackers we sweated up a hundred foot space for a half dozen picnic tables and a couple of bar-b-ques. "Kirk, take a drink of this." I was handed a bottle of Mountain Dew and knocked it half down before I got a jolt from Soren who

Hot Cock Rules!

Just a few minutes before Bram and I were standing shoulder to shoulder on the wooden porch drinking our beers, looking out at this strange town that sits alongside the Schuylkill River, which here, sixty miles north of Philly, is just a broad shallow creek good for skipping stones and fishing. It's late November we're only standing outside because the wood frame house I inherited

Just On The Rocks

Tight purple jeans. You don't see jeans like this on guys, but from my experience, just follow the tight purple jeans like you follow the yellow brick road. The guy wearing them was about 23 or 24 with streaked shaggy-blonde hair, eyes which were dark brown and locked onto the eyes of his targeted sex-mate for the night. Powerful biceps popping out of a muscle T-shirt and thighs that

Mac Had A Switch

Even the nastiest blue collar jobs have this in common with the executive positions of any kind, they all involve a great deal of time just standing around. There are exceptions to this, like the pot washer and the miner. But from what I've seen, even when you're geared to do a job there are just times when you can't do a thing because you have to think it through or because you're

My First Time Doing Phone Sex

I remembered that John told me one time that he did phone sex and because we had just begun living together it was just an item I tucked away, I guess, for today. He's taking a summer course in Toledo, Ohio, and I'm stuck here in Philly. I'm horny and it's phone sex time--9 PM. He'll be studying and now I'm gonna blow him away. Billy: Hi John what cha doing? Could I string you up

Stripping Down The Speedos

I'm Klick and my best friend got his nickname at the same time I got mine--he's Ridge. How? We were always taking out war movies and it's always the same story in the infantry: "Hey, how many more klicks do we have to go? Answer: About another three klicks across this ridge." Etc. So our friends named us Klick and Ridge. We were always hanging around one another. With four years

We Oughta Get Up

My cot was jammed next to Terry's in the Senior Counselors tent, so close that I could reach across to his cot. I had kicked off the blanket and top sheet in the night, so wearing just a white tee and white boxer briefs I was laying in a bed with everything in a tangle. The sweaty sheet that I was laying on had come loose and exposed the lumpy old mattress. Laying on my

Wranglers Workin' It On The Side

When you want a guy you want him. So I wasn't going to play games with Lee. Here was a guy who was tall and so lean that his dick was something that lay in his jeans like a fist. This cowboy wore his Wranglers like they were part of him and he was the sexiest bastard I ever saw except for myself. I had a picture of what I wanted to happen. Those work jeans, tight and torn and

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