Skip and Lem are high school pals. Skip lives in a house on Main Street in the County seat. Lem considered him a city boy who knew all kinds of interestin' thangs 'bout sex and stuff. If'n you hadda describe the boy's sexual interests, you'd hafta say that Lem was hotly nterested in gals. Trouble was there were none closer than five miles from his farm that he worked on with Gramps. So he mostly jes did without. He did learn that smart trick, from Skip, 'bout rubbin' yer hand along the handle of yer male organ 'til a wonderful feelin' brought you almost to heaven. 'Course it did make a mess on the inside of his Bibb overalls, but that made him no never mind compared to the fun of doin' it.
Skip, on the other hand, was secretly hot fer boys, though he kept it real strictly to himself, knowin' that it could make him seem weird in school. But the truth be told, he was mostly interested in one boy, and that was Lem. A few times, Skip made a weak attempt to git somethin' goin' with the gorgeous hick. He once stroked Lem's shoulder and was on his way down to the boy's pink titty when Lem brushed the hand away and said, no too unfriendly, "Skip you are crazy."
Lem was a sweet kid who never even realized how wonderful lookin' he was. He had dark gold straight hair that fell crost his smooth forehead and showed up his bright blue eyes. His face was handsome and coltish. As fer his farm-made body, it was near perfection in shape and muscles. His skin was smooth, pink-white and glowing with farm health. But Lem wasn't one to look in mirrors, fact is, there was only one broken piece of mirror 'bove his wash stand and he mostly could see his face. Skip had to bend over, or grab something to hold in front of his pants to keep from showin' his big stiff organ pushin' out his pants. This happened often when he looked at Lem, and more so when Lem would strip down for their swims at the water hole.
All that dozy doe came to a new intensity when the boys went on that huntin' trip last week, n' I'm agoin' to tell you the whole story so you know as much as I do 'bout it.
Gramps lent Lem the old Model A truck 'cause it was better in the back country with all those ruts and stones being that it was setup higher. They brought only a tent, water, a Coleman stove, an old iron pot and a tin coffee pot and coffee, and pump gas light. Naturally, they both had shot guns.. This would be the first time Skip will be using a gun, 'ceptin' the shootin' he did at the fair, 'n that was a BB gun. He didn't hit nothin', but Lem won every prize the man had 'cept for the portable radio, 'n he woulda won that 'cept the man closed the booth.
They found a nice spot deep in the wood, near a small pond. It was getting' near dark when they unloaded the tent. "Lordie, this ol' tent sure is heavy," grunted Lem, his arm muscles bludging from the effort.
"That's because it is waxed canvas. They got new lightweight tents with the frame that opens like an umbrella, they are expensive though."
The boy boys stripped down to their underpants, "Makes no difference, no one about," Lem said, rubbing his perfect chest and bringing poor Skip into sexual distress.
They worked nearly an hour getting' the poles into the hard ground and finally they erected the center pole and there was their cozy home for the next few days.
They started to get hungry. Exceptin' for some salt crackers there warrant anythin' else to eat. "Guess we better git ourselves dinner afore it gits too dark," mused Lem. He grabbed his gun and motioned Skip to folly him. In the gathering darkness, Lem's sharp eyes spotted two rabbits eatin' grass. He took aim and shot both with one shot, as the single shot went through the two.
"I'll git some wild onions and stuff for the stew," said Lem, pretty pleased with himself. "'Spose you skin 'em and cut 'em up for the stew."
Skip looked unhappy. "Lem, I never did that kind of thing. I'll get the veggies and you skin the animals."
Before long, they made a fire and the pot was simmering on the rock circle around the fire. It smelled great, especially cause they found wild onions, carrots and plums. Coffee was boiling too.
The boys ate twice as much as they shoulda and they bellies were puffed out and they barely crawled into the tent where the old farm blankets were ready for sleepin'. They lay down 'side each other, burping and giggling. Just afore sleep overtook 'em they each let out loud farts. They were proud of the noise they could make. At night, the piney wood gits pretty cold and they each was glad to have a warm body next to them.
They slept right up to about seven o'clock, late for Lem, he usually was up and five AM. He noticed that his friend was still asleep so he just lay there enjoying the rest and the morning air. He found himself studying Skip with a fresh eye, His friend was a good looker, no doubt about that. He was short though, but that kinda made him-what's the word-Lem search for it, that's right, cute. Skip had dark curly hair and light gray eyes. His mouth curled up at the ends humorously. His body warrant strong like Lem's but it was nice, specially cause he had more body hair than Lem. The center of his chest wuz a dark growth that Lem thought looked like an animal pelt layed out to dry. His forearms and legs were dusted with soft shiny hair that Lem thought looked right smart. As he looked, he found himself reaching down to finger his growing lusty cock. He wondered if he could stroke himself off without waking the sleeping Skip. "Well, if'n I don't try, I won't know," he thought.
In a few minutes, his mouth was partly open and he was breathing pretty loud, and his big, warm farm hand was grasping his, now thick, prong. It felt jes' fine n' the head was 'ginning to git wet lak it usually does. He onst tasted that wetness on the tip, n' it was a bit lak honey.
Skip heard what was going on and knew exactly what stage his friend was in. This would be his best chance of gtittin' somethin' goin' with his handsome and sweet friend. He slitting his eyes and took it all in, his own cock risin' of hard and ready. He took a chance and spoke to the enraptured farm boy. "Lem, I know your feeling real good now and I am glad, but you'll get to that great feeling faster if you let me help you."
Lem lifted his head and stared at Skip. For the first time, this offer sounded too good to pass up. "Okay friend, but it has to be our secret."
"Sure," eagerly agreed Skip, as he slid closer to Lem and with two hands pulled down the boy's underpants. The fat, smooth cock jumped up to freedom. He put a reverent hand on the pulsing organ, but Lem stopped him. "I feel funny watching you do that."
"Tell you what," said Skip, always the one to furnish solutions to any problem. He whipped off his own briefs. "Here put this over you eyes and you can pretend that you are asleep and dreaming, or that you are stroking yourself." So sayin' he placed the drawers over Lem's face. But here is the amazin' thing! They fell with the pouch part over Lem's nose. Now you know about phonemes, They is the male perfume that kin drive another person into a sexual frenzy. Now as soon as they hit Lem's nose and he breathed in, he began to blush crost his fine chest and face. The heat was lak he had drunk moonshine. He began huffin' 'n puffin' loudly, almost wailin'.
Skip heard it, but he thought he was just doin' a good job of touching the tasty prick, so he took a few tongue licks over the leaky head. The boy's penis cover rolled back lak a Venetian blind exposin' the pink/red tip. By now Lem was crooning an old farm tune of passion, newling and cooing with delight. This spurred Skip to take the whole country sausage into his hot mouth. The cooing got louder and he allowed it to slide back into his throat.
Lem had never felt so delicious feelins'. He half thought he was going to die with pleasure, then afraid he might die and miss feelin' more. He began to know that the heavenly gates were openin' cause his body was locking, and loaded for a mighty release of pent of boy sperm. He started grunting out warnins' of the impendin' explosion, you know, uh's and oo's and almost gagging expressions. Skip, enjoying every moment of his activity, ignored all signs. He had a mad feelin' that he had to get that country spunk, to taste it and to cement his love fer the farm boy.
Then it came. Lem turned to stone, totally paralyzed, then his upper legs began to lift and lower by themselves. He felt the rush startin' in his knees and vibrating in his ball sac, then rushing up the shaft of his prick. He let out a loud cry, half of agony and half of relief as he shot a farm pail of his spunk into the greed mouth of Skip, who was gulping like the calf on the teet. He drank from the fountain and swallowed madly. He thought the farm boy's flesh fountain would never stop, but finally it did.
Lem lay there, a dead duck, breathing heavily trying to recover. Skip stayed near, not touching Lem, afreeded Lem might be angry that he took these liberties with him, but he read the situation all wrong. Lem looked down at the long slip, curved prick of the city boy. It was jumping with need and desire. I tell you, Lem was the most generous and kind person that the world had ever produced. He was filled with sadness that his dear friend was in such pain.
Now you know some boys and men, whether they is with a woman or another man, can sometimes be very selfish. Onst they has their good feelin' satisfied, they don't give a shit 'bout the other person. Lem was the total opposite. He straddled his surprised friend and took the needy prick into his pink, puff lips and began licking and sucking it. Taking it finally into his steaming mouth. Skip was so surprised and so overcome with totally excellent feelins' that he began crowing hoarsely. Lem patted him on the belly to comfort him, but continued, now suck and stroking the prick at the same time. Naturally, Skip was already at a high pitch so it didn't take long fer him to shout out, "Damn sweet Lem, you got me. I'm going to spew. Get ready."
The townee began to hump wildly, out of control. Then the milk delivery began. Musta been a quart of the best stuff cause Lem drank it all. When the spigot stopped, Lem fell back catching his breath.
"Lem, my friend, my best friend, that was a fine thing you did. I'll never forget it."
Lem, who had a good grasp of mechanical things, he could, after all, keep that old tractor goin' said, "No need to take turns. After we shoot our lunch, we kin work it out so as we can both do it at the same time."
"Yeah, I think that's called sixty-nine. But do you think we have to hunt our lunch. I think there's enough protein right here in the tent."
It took a country moment fer Lem to catch on, but finally he laughed and smacked Skips arm with joy.
End
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