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SMALL KANSAS COLLEGE - PART 7
Chapter 1 - Summer
I forgot to call Little John. Two days later, he called me and wanted to postpone our meeting until after a Horizon Builders' employee picnic scheduled for Friday. However he told me that he had talked his dad into hiring Phil and Tad for the summer. I was beginning to wonder about Little John. He seemed to clear every little detail with his father. I also wondered why John Sr. was busy with picnic preparations; any secretary could handle picnic arrangements.
His good news was that the College President was going to be calling me. They were ecstatic about my offer. Also, the baby was doing great (Little John had been a father for about eight hours - the baby was a girl so Morgan was off the hook).
Phil, Tad, Morgan and I all went to the picnic at the grounds behind the American Legion Club (chosen because you could serve alcohol there, as opposed to a municipal park).
The four of us (Phil, Tad, Morgan and I) became aware of the food preparation and found that two local guys, who were in charge, had recently started a catering business as a sideline and they willing helped us with ideas for our September get-together even though we didn't intent to hire them. They suggested the same menu they were serving tonight: T-Bone steaks (14 to 16 oz), green salad, baked beans, dinner rolls and ice cream, plus beer in kegs rather than bottles and hard liquor if we wanted to include it. They really gave us a lot of good suggestions for our upcoming orgy - the need for trash containers, etc.
During the party, I decided to mix business with pleasure (not a recommended thing to do) and told Little John I wanted him to keep Morgan on all summer and I wanted to talk to him more in depth about Morgan.
He replied that he would talk it over with his dad. I told him that was bullshit. There was no need to talk it over because I wanted it. (I remembered the old man's reaction to my question of what would happen if I pulled out of the partnership.) I was beginning to have bad vibes about both John and Little John. Then, maybe I was just getting a little too sensitive or a little too pushy.
Finally the meeting took place. Little John started off explaining a little more about the college. The doctors at the hospital were reacting favorably for the time being but the Main Street mall idea scared the hell out of the local merchants. It was too complicated - money wise, ownership wise, lots of reasons.
I told them I had done a little snooping on my own. The Union Pacific Railroad would love to get the local depot off their hands. They had no use for it since there were no passenger trains anymore; they couldn't demo it to get it off the tax roll
The root of the problem was it had been declared a State Historical Monument. I suggested we buy it or lease it, work with the State on how we could remodel it within their guidelines and use it as a company office, because it is a beautiful, old structure; It would make a prestigious office.
Then John Sr. gave me the opening I was waiting for:
Jere, we're investing too much time and money chasing around checking out these ideas of yours. The college was different because you are footing the bill for everything. As for as the rest of your ideas I don't think we should pursue them further.
I understand what you're saying, John. I have thought about that angle, too. Business development is time consuming and costly - especially if the firm principals are doing it. I have a lot of business development courses under my belt and I would like to take it over for a while, in company with Morgan, until he is able to handle it on his own.
No.
Why not?
I don't want you and Morgan representing the firm.
Why, may I ask?
I saw you, Morgan, Phil and his friend at the picnic. The four of you were a real clique. You're all fagots.
I think you are misusing a word, John, have you ever looked up "fagot" in a dictionary? It is defined as "twigs, sticks or branches" - like the French used to burn Joan of Arc at the stake. Or do you mean "fag" a modern, corrupted shortening of the word "fagot."
You know what I mean.
I can only guess you mean "fag"; therefore I suggest you expand your vocabulary. "Gay" is much less crude.
I don't give a damn about your nice words. I just don't want you fags representing the firm.
What do you have against gays?
They're promiscuous to the point of indecency, among other things.
Some are, some are not. Kind of like all men - some keep their peckers at home some sleep around. What are the married men called who like extra-marital relations - "womanizers"? I guess that word applies to single men, too. Some of the singles are after all they can get and some don't care if a woman is married, or not.
Well John, I am not the one to judge. Humans were just not all created alike. Neither were animals; you can find homosexuality among some animal species. Fish, are the strangest creatures of all, though. I understand some change sex during their life span and some males, among the species that give live birth, are the ones who carry and deliver the babies.
Neither of the two Johns responded. Poor Little John was almost embarrassed to tears and John, Sr. was so angry I thought he was on the threshold of a heart attack.
So, I broke the silence: If you two Johns will pardon me, I think its time to leave. The meeting is not productive. Do you want my attorney to communicate through the firm attorney regarding my partnership termination, or directly with you, John? I want out.
Not waiting for a reply, I walked out of the office. I had to sit in the car a while to cool off. I wished I had one of Morgan's cigarettes. The only good thing I could think of that came out of the meeting was that I had avoided admitting that Morgan, Phil, Tad and I were gay. His accusations could not have surprised me more if he had he had dropped a grenade into my lap. My reply was stupid, long winded and skirted around the accusation but it was the best I could come up with under the circumstances.
Morgan was already in bed and asleep. I knew I couldn't sleep, so I just sat and stewed a while. The phone rang. It was Little John asking if he could come over. I told him to go in the pool door and I would meet him in the study.
Jere, please read what's in this envelope. Can I pour myself a stiff drink while you read it?
Make yourself at home.
It was a handwritten note from John Sr.
"Dear Jere, I apologize for my erratic behavior tonight. I don't know what possessed me. I wish I could also apologize to your father. He was my best friend and a life-long friend. For that reason alone, I should not have spoken to his son in the manner I did. Little John will tell you that I have signed over my interests in the partnership to him and I am going into retirement. Again, I am sorry, Jere. John K."
Should I write him back, John, or just convey my acceptance through you?
I'll tell him Jere. I want you to know if I'd had the slightest inkling of what he was going to do, I would have dissuaded him before the meeting started. I was just as shaken as you were.
Dad has been very controlling of me lately, which is unlike him. All I can think of is that your father had always been a silent partner; then, in the past few months you have become a very active partner, even an aggressive one. I think the old man was afraid of you. I think he felt that he was completely out of your league and he was going to be left behind and he just couldn't deal with it.
Please, Jere, don't pull out now. I couldn't make it without you. I'm not afraid of you; I'm very fond of you. I think you have some great ideas, just the kind we need.
I will give you all the encouragement and cooperation that you will ever need if you will just stay.
Thanks Little John. I couldn't pull out on you if you want me to stay. We've been life- long and close friends, too. Guess I need to change the way I appear to some people. Maybe you can help me with that. We gave each other a long hug.
The college projects were settled before Summer ended and ready for Little John to get started on construction in September, before Winter settled in.
Chapter 2 - Autumn
The last Saturday in September arrived. Morgan and I did not have much to do, as we had, more or less been getting ready for months, with help from Phil and Tad.
We had found slings and hoops on the Internet, to hang from the trusses on; and, we had put spotlights on them. We'd had purchased cooler chests, trash cans, inexpensive china plates and eating utensils, propane fired barbeque grills and had baled hay hauled out and placed in front of the cabin so we could sit around a fire in the circle of concrete blocks we had assembled for that purpose. One Sunday we had even erected a collapsible glory-hole booth out of plywood and 2 x 2's hinged together at the corners. Morgan brought a drill used for cutting doors for locks and he drilled a large, round hole in one side and sanded the edges. We pursued the work on several weekends and even got down to details like a throw-away rug to put under the sling to catch you know what, waxed the floor so it would clean up easier and bought a large stack of white towels. We found collapsible stools in the storage shed for the booth.
Of course we took the T-bone steaks out of the freezer in time to defrost. Mixed the salad in a big plastic bags and added paper towels, then shook them up, so it would not be a wet, soggy mess. "Doctored up" the canned beans with onions and some other stuff that had been suggested to us at the employee picnic and had them cooking. Made a last minute run to the liquor store to pick up the kegs of beer that we had reserved and erected the booth on a corner of the rear porch. After we showered we went out and sat on one of the bales of hay surrounding the logs that were ready to be lit for a bonfire and had a drink before the auto caravan arrived.
Wearing apparel hadn't been discussed with Phil and Tad but Morgan wanted to wear the chaps he had seen in the cupboard in the barn with nothing underneath. I argued with him and the argument that finally persuaded him to wear at least a jockstrap under them was that hot fat might spatter on his dick while he was cooking the steaks. (He so envied my cowboy boots that I had bought him a pair as a surprise gift and he wore them, too.) I wore my boots, hat and a pair of cut-off jeans. I wore a jockstrap under the jeans as I had cut them off shorter than intended. I might as well have gone naked.
The auto caravan from KSU arrived followed by a cloud of dust and out of the cars poured what had to be the largest collection of sweet, young things; hot looking studs and guys displaying big baskets that existed in Kansas. Phil and Tad must have had the same idea about dress. A lot of guys were dressed provocatively; some changed their clothes later into things that no way could they have traveled in.
Phil introduced Morgan and me, told everyone to look around the cabin and pointed out that there were only two bathrooms inside but pissing outside was OK - just go out a way from the cabin. Then he asked that everyone give him their car keys. They could leave the car doors unlocked, but he didn't want anyone deciding they were able to drive when they drunk. If there were any emergencies, I had a cell phone that we could use to summon aid. Other than that there were no rules. Just have fun the same as you would do in a gay bathhouse on a night when everyone looked hot as hell.
Everyone milled around, grabbed a beer or a highball, remarked to Morgan or I about the cabin and the trees and thanked us for hosting the party. Within minutes, Alex Wolf arrived (we had invited him, too) in his cop uniform, sunglasses and a fake badge that looked like a real police badge. He had asked to bring two neighbors (high school kids). He hadn't elaborated on the kids but they turned out to be Hispanic, very small in stature and twins - Bobby and Byron. They each had the wildest hair-do imaginable - not an Afro but frizzed like a lot of high school girls were currently wearing. They had on cut off shorts dyed pink and pink tennis shoes. Their most appealing asset was a bubbly, giggly personality. The three of them stopped all conversation for a few minutes until everyone had digested the eye candy they presented.
Rightfully, Morgan had said he better cook the steaks while there was still some light, or it would be hard to tell if they were ready to eat or completely burned. One guy had a guitar and he played and sang numerous popular, western tunes plus a couple of old tunes that were rather appropriate for the occasion: Glen Campbell's "Wichita Lineman" and John Denver's (as I remember) "Country Road Take me Home" and then continued on until the guys were beginning to line up for dinner. The help yourself bar of keg beer and liquor had enliven the conversation and everyone seemed to be into the spirit of the evening.
It would be impossible to describe all the guys, so I will concentrate on telling you about the ones I was the most attracted to and had sex with - much to my surprise in the second instance.
The first instance was a quiet guy, medium height and a build that was just short of a body builder's bod, arms, legs and ass - dark hair and looked Italian. I asked Tad who he was and he replied: "Damned if I know. I think he was a friend of one of Phil's friends.
I don't know who the hell he is. Go for him if you want him, Jere. If he wasn't gay he wouldn't be here." Later I heard someone address him as Tony.
The second guy I zoomed in on the minute he stepped out of one of the cars and one of his big, dirty, sports shoes hit the ground. Tall, skinny, light brown hair but with nice pecs and wearing a baseball cap with the bill in front and a foot long pony tail hanging out the back through the hole above the cap fastener. The cap, shorts and shoes constituted his whole attire. He was tanned and the only visible body hair he had was on his fore arms and lower legs.
He was one of those guys whose every movement was graceful and when he stood still it was like he was posed. When I saw him posing, I wondered if he was conceited. If he was he had every right to be. He had to be the best Kansas had to offer (I was wrong about that - he turned out to be from across the state line in Nebraska).
He was behind me in the food line. He asked me if my last name was Blair. Somewhat taken back, I told him that it was and asked why he had asked.
Well, driving out here, the closer we got to your ranch the more I experienced the feeling that I had been here before. When we drove under the sign at the entry gate I saw the name of the Ranch was the Blair Ranch and I remembered I had been here once with I was in high school.
What was the occasion for your visit?
My dad came here to buy some yearlings. He talked with a guy that I remember was named Billy Hanson, a real friendly little guy.
Yes, Billy is the foreman.
Jeez, if I'd known you lived here I would have asked that Billy throw you in as part of the bargain.
Well, if my dad had still been alive he would have agreed to that and at no extra charge. Where do you live?
In Nebraska, south of Mc Cook.
Welcome back to the ranch. What's your name?
Glenn Sincock.
You're kidding me!
I sure as hell wish I were.
I think it's wonderful. Honesty, I love it. It's the sexiest name I've ever heard.
Jere, I'll try to meet up with you tonight but I'm with a friend.
I woofed my food so I could relieve Morgan and give him a chance to eat while I got the ice cream ready to serve.
Before everyone had been served his ice cream a spectacular event began to take place, one that we had completely overlooked the possibility of when we chose the last Saturday in September as the date for the orgy. The moon began to rise behind the trees. It was the year's Harvest Moon. It rose slowly, majestically, bright gold in color and unbelievably huge. The guy with the guitar started playing and singing the old tune "Harvest Moon". Everyone turned to watch the spectacle. Everything else paled to insignificance, including the bonfire. Morgan sought me out, pulled me up to a standing position, wrapped his arms around me and we watched together, kissing each other now and then. It made me wish Morgan and I were alone and I wondered if the right mood had been created for the party. It was sort of nostalgic. If nothing else, it had become a night to remember - how often are you sitting on a bale of hay around a campfire, out on a Kansas ranch, watching a Harvest Moon rise?
If everyone felt a touch of nostalgia, they soon got over it. Some changed into clothes they hadn't traveled in. Some left their clothes in the car they had arrived in and wrapped a towel around themselves. Some donned jockstraps. Some of them collected in the house and then someone suggested it was time to initiate the sling. Tad had brought a bunch of CD's and turned up the stereo - of course it was gay bathhouse type music - loud and a beat just made to fuck with. Someone else suggested the cop should be the first to get fucked because everyone would like to watch a cop take it up the ass. The next suggestion came from a friend of Tad's:
You fuck him Tad. It would take a hairy bastard like you with a big dick to do a number on a cop. Reluctantly (or so he gave that impression) Tad agreed. Alex got in the sling fully clothed and Tad proceeded to slowly undress him. Pointing to a tube of lube on the floor, Tad asked who wanted to do the honors. One guy lubed Alex's ass and another spread the lube generously, in circular motions, around Tad's cock before he reached down and pulled back his foreskin. When Tads big cock head was at the point of entry, everyone lifted their towel, pulled down his shorts or pulled his meat out the side of his jock strap. It was exciting watching a big-dicked, hairy guy slip his hard on between a slim blond guy's buns, watch it disappear into the guy's asshole and proceed to fuck him. Every one wanted to play with their erections while they watched.
Alex and Tad hammed it up a bit and put on a sexy show. Finally it was over. Tad called out to me that if I had a judge hidden somewhere he would fuck him, too.
Morgan bumped into me in the bedroom. He was removing his jockstrap and made me take mine off, too.
Later in the evening, the first guy I had developed a fantasy for (the one I thought might be Italian) had established eye contact with me several times but remained aloof at the same time. He was wearing only a towel.
He really intrigued me, mainly because he acted weird.
He would move from one location to another, always looking around to see if I was observing him. He would go outside and stand by the porch railing, exposing himself, or face the wall of the house (I thought that was especially weird) and do the same thing. Every time I approached him, though, he would cover himself up again and scoot off. This continued, on and off, for more than an hour; of course I was not constantly looking at him or following him, but occasionally it would happen. The shed door was open; he went in there and stood by the door, exposing himself.
He was driving me crazy, not from wanting him sexually as much as from trying to figure out what the hell it was he wanted. He sure acted like he wanted something.
He sure acted like he wanted me to be party to whatever it was. I began to surmise that he just wanted me to watch him doing something but not participate. (I had heard of guys that couldn't shoot when they jacked off unless they were being watched.) I still thought he was hot and whatever he wanted was fine with me.
Then, I saw him in the Living Room talking to another KSU student. I walked behind the other guy and Tony just had to see me go by. I walked into Morgan's and my bedroom, left the lamp on the nightstand lit, cracked the bathroom door but didn't turn on the light. Then I scooted under the bed as fast as I could. Sure enough, he came in looking for me; he checked the bathroom, including behind the door. When he turned around I stuck an elbow out from under the bed. He saw it. BINGO. He dropped his towel on the floor, kneeled down and spread his legs as wide as he could until his crotch was right in front of my face. He started to slowly masturbate. He wanted someone to watch him jack off but he didn't want to see the watcher - something like doing it alone in a room when you sense a window peeper is watching but you can't seem him.
I turned on my side facing him. His dick was just inches from my face. Erect he had a strong, fat 6 inches and a huge, purple colored, plum shaped head. He had trimmed his pubes and his big balls were cleanly shaved. He was wearing a cock ring. He would spit on his fingers and rub them around his head. Then he'd spit in his palm and work on his shaft, always with his piss slit pointed right at my eyes. I found it very erotic. For one thing I had never had my face so close to a guys cock when he was jacking himself off. Oh how I wished I could touch it, but I knew what would happen if I did. I guess while he was teasing me he was also disciplining me.
Suddenly he spoke. Can you stick your head out and put your mouth over it?
I did as he said. I knew what he was going to do. I had stayed with him. I had played his game. He was now going to reward me. I don't know how long it had been since he had shot a load; I did know his balls were huge.
Within a few seconds he said: Here it comes! Take it!
His fist pumped faster, and his hand was hitting me in the mouth, then he stopped and I just held my mouth over his head as his cock throbbed and pumped his sperm into my mouth. He had one hell of a lot of sperm, too.
I asked him if I could feel it. He said: Sure, for a minute or two.
I reached out and took it in my hand. It was still erect but at the same time you could sense it was beginning to soften. His plum head was still moist from my mouth and had a few drips of cum hanging from the piss slit. Both his cock and balls were so beautifully warm to the touch. Even if it had been a bit unusual, feeling him made me think the whole thing had been really intimate and satisfying for both of us.
He reached down and gave my cock a squeeze; I knew it was his unspoken way of saying "Thanks."
If I get out would you let me talk to you?
Sure.
Will you go outside and have a drink with me?
OK.
Where are your shoes?
On the front porch by my sleeping bag.
Let me get my boots on and I'll meet you at the bar. I grabbed a couple of towels to put on a bale of hay. (The hay was a bit scratchy on bare legs.) I grabbed a tube of K-Y from the nightstand drawer and put it in my pocket.
I poured myself a real man-sized highball. He noticed and did the same thing. (That was a start, at least. I hadn't had much to drink as yet, and I didn't think he had either.) Thanks for letting me watch you.
You're the first person that ever said "thanks", to me.
I enjoyed watching you. You had really worked me up with all the teasing you did. You have a truly magnificent cock on a great bod and you're good looking, to boot.
Most guys think I'm weird.
Aren't we all, one way or another? I don't think you're weird as much as I think you're new to this game and don't really know how to come on to a guy. How old are you?
Twenty.
Where's home?
Manhattan. That's why I go to KSU.
I venture a guess that you're uncomfortable with your sexuality.
I am to a degree.
The first step to getting comfortable with it is to admit to yourself that you're gay. You don't have to come out right away. Just admit it to yourself and things seem to get easier from there on. What you're doing doesn't satisfy all your senses.
What do you mean?
I mean sight, sound, smell, touch and taste. You can use them all in sex and if you do use all of them you'll find that sex can unbelievable. It becomes a fantastic experience each time you do it.
How would you use sound and smell?
Jacking a guy off with lube makes a wonderful, erotic sound, so does sucking a guy when your mouth is really wet. So does fucking ass. If you've ever smelled a guy's balls you'd know what I mean by being aroused through your sense of smell. Hell, I even like to smell a guy's armpits. Now who's weird?
I've got some weed in the car. Care if I go roll myself a joint.
No, go ahead.
Could I roll one for you?
Definitely. I'll go pour us another round while you're doing that. (And I meant another stiff one.)
After the joint and the second highball were finished, I asked if he trusted me and he replied that he did.
Then, lets take a walk out into the trees, away from the cabin.
I guided him until we were out of sight of the cabin, turned and asked him if I could kiss him.
On the mouth?
Not it that would bother you.
I began with his nipples, worked up to his neck and then I nibbled on an ear lobe. I guess he liked it because he began kissing me on the mouth. I stuck my tongue in mouth. He liked that, too and tongued me back. I stood as close to him as I could get, reached down and felt his package through the towel. He was erect again.
Tony, I want to take your towel off. I did and draped it around his neck.
Tony, unzip my pants and take them off over my boots.
He did.
Am I going too far?
No. You've made me all hot and excited again.
I'm excited too and that's the early joy of a sex act - two people getting each other hot.
I stood as close to him as I could and put our hard dicks between our legs and dry fucked. Then I pulled away and asked him if he would jack me off. I lubed my dick; then to my surprise he got down on his knees so he could watch close-up as he masturbated me.
Is this the first time you've jacked another guy's meat?
Yes, and before you ask, I like it. God you're big. You said I was magnificent. I think you are, too. And, it does make a sound, just like you said, especially when I work the head. I was too hot to last long and my balls reacted all too soon.
I pulled him up and said: Tony, would you let me be the first one to give you a blowjob?
Do you really want to?
Very much so. I would be taking your virginity in a way. Know what I mean?
Yes.
It was my turn to drop to my knees. With a wet, hungry mouth I again introduced him to the sounds of sex as well as the pleasure of having his tool worked over by a cocksucker. He left no doubt in my mind that he loved it with his repeated hollering of "Oh my God, oh my God!"
Once he asked: "What are you doing?"
Sucking your cock, why?
I thought you must be doing something else, too. I had no idea it could feel like this.
Sucking was all I could do. His balls were too fucking big to pull on. Despite the cock ring, he soon arrived at departure time for his second load of fuck juice.
When he was close, he told me that he was going to cum. I reached around and held onto his butt so he couldn't pull out. I stopped sucking so both of us could enjoy his climax.
When I got up he embraced me and gave me a long hard kiss.
We waited a minute to clam down. Out of the blue, he asked me how a guy knew when another guy wanted fucked. I told him he really didn't need to know anything; if the guy wanted to get fucked he'd probably ask him to do it. If he wanted to fuck a guy he just asked.
If the guy wanted him he would probably let him even if it was his first time, but he would need to take it real easy with a guy for his first time. Also, know the guy you ask pretty well.
Does it hurt a guy to get fucked?
The first time it hurts like hell. A dick going up your ass seems twice as long and twice as big around as when you were just looking at it. The worst thing is the burning sensation, but after the first time it feels wonderful?
Why do you like it?
To me, it seems as close to doing what a boy and girl would do together. Feeling a guy's cock inside your body just seems as close as two guys can get.
We weren't far from the cabin, but walking back some guy had Alex in tow, both naked and with erections pointing their way. The guy asked us if we'd had fun. Tony said we sure did and he hoped they would, too. Just before we emerged from the tree line, he grabbed me and kissed me again.
I felt good about the time we had spent together; he seemed to have loosened a little after we'd talked together. I enjoyed the sex we'd had together and I still thought he was one hot looking dude.
*****If anyone is an expert on the subject, or just happens to know, I wish they would e- mail me about what I began wondering about after Tony: Do big balls really have more cum storage capacity than small balls? Would really love to know for sure. *****
I headed toward the glory hole hoping to suck some cock, but detoured into my bedroom to use the john. There was a guy lying on the floor with another guy sitting on his face. It was the first time I had actually seen a guy getting his asshole rimmed. I always heard it excited a guy and make him hot to get it up the ass. It was certainly hot to watch. I backed out and decided I would piss out in back of the shed. Then I got onto another detour, I checked the bar on the porch and sort of cleaned it up, put out more highball mixes and the vodka seemed to be disappearing quite rapidly, so I put out a couple of more bottles.
Going through the cabin to the back porch again, Glenn Sincock grabbed me by the arm.
Hey Jere, can we get together?
Sure, where's your boyfriend?
Not my boyfriend, just my friend. He had too much to drink and had to tuck him in for the night. Where are you headed?
Well, I started out for the glory hole but haven't made it, yet.
Can we go somewhere, your room, maybe?
The last time I looked it was occupied. Guess you want some privacy. I've got a little portable, electric lamp in the shed and some sleeping bags we could unroll. The shed's clean. It has a nice, plywood floor.
Sounds great.
What do have in mind?
Being nursemaid to my friend has kept me busy. I haven't done anything yet.
I really need a cock up my ass. Jeez, I think I could take one all night I'm so fucking hot after watching all the sex going on around here.
Glenn no sooner had the words out of his mouth than I spotted Morgan and motioned for him to come over. Then I guided the two of them to the back porch.
I told Morgan what Glenn had said to me about "all night". I said I knew I couldn't last that long and asked what of they thought about Morgan and I taking turns at it.
They loved it!
Morgan asked Glen what he was drinking and he replied bourbon. Morgan liked bourbon, too. So, I detoured for the last time and got a new bottle from the kitchen, some plastic glasses and some large, paper cups full of ice from the ice chest. It was about all I could carry, so I went around the end of the cabin to avoid coping with both the front and back screen doors. By the time I got back, a sleeping bag had been spread on the floor and the camp lamp turned on.
Everyone piled the few articles of clothing they were wearing atop their shoes, placed in a corner. I remembered to take the K-Y out of my cut-off jean's pocket. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that I thought the little Nebraska ranch boy was going to flip when he saw our big cocks. In fact he gasped when he saw us naked he said they were the biggest cocks he had ever seen, let alone take up his ass.
Promise me guys that you'll fuck me all night. It's something I've always fantasized about.
Morgan told him that he didn't know about all night but when we both wore ourselves out he would sure as hell know that he'd been fucked - well fucked - fucked out, in fact.
We began by kissing and exploring each other - cocks, balls, some sucking - before I get down to the reason we were in the shed together. Glenn had about a 5-1/2 inch dick, erect, but nice and fat. I was entranced as I watched him pull his foreskin back over his cockhead and the fact that it stayed there. Like all cocks it was beautiful. His cockhead was red and so appeared very tender, very sensitive. Then Morgan told Glenn he was going to undo his ponytail. Glen asked why he was doing that.
I just want to see you with your long hair down.
I told him Morgan wanted to fantasize he was fucking a girl.
Morgan didn't reply but he gave me an " I'd like to kill you right now " look.
Glenn caught Morgan's expression and smoothed things over by saying:
That's OK. That's just how I want you guys to do me. Just like I'm a girl.
That would really turn me on. If you called me "cunt" and that sort of stuff, it would help even more.
In the dim illumination of the small, shaded, camp light, Glenn was beautiful with his hair down. In fact he was indescribably beautiful, almost ethereal. Morgan and I gasped almost as loudly as Glenn had gasped when he had his first look at our cocks.
What had the three of us stumbled into - two guys with big cocks and a truly beautiful, KSU freshman that couldn't wait to be plugged. We were all more than eager to get started.
Glenn grabbed two more sleeping bags off the shelves, laid them on the spread out bag and lie down on his stomach with his butt sticking up above the sleeping bags and with his cock sticking out below. He spread his cheeks, exposing the blonds hairs surrounding his love hole.
I grabbed my dick and aimed it at his spot. I slid it in slowly and he made no verbal sounds of discomfort, despite his awe over our size. I thought that maybe he was a little bit on the already-fucked side of virginity but that didn't matter. I screwed his "cunt", as he wanted us to call it slowly and gently. It was my style but I also knew if I got too wild I would ejaculate too soon. Morgan must have had the same idea about me because he told me to pull out so we could make it last.
Then he sent me back to our bedroom to get cock rings.
After Morgan mounted his buns he wasted no time in giving Glenn a hard fucking. That was Morgan's style - he seemed to be able to both maintain an erection forever and fuck like a machine. Once or twice Glenn jerked so violently that I thought his body was going to leave the sleeping bag.
After having both fucked Glenn's ass for two turns, it was apparent that all three of us had decided (although unspoken) that making it last would really maximize the pleasure for all three of us - it was just so good! Morgan and I alternated and even Glenn requested time-out periods. Then he would suck one of us back to hardness and the session would begin anew. During one of these rest periods we sat in a circle and each smoked one of Morgan's cigarettes and I noticed the sleeping bag Glenn had used to elevate his ass. I told you he had placed his dick along the back of the bag below his ass. The bag was streaked with his cum. I knew he just had to have had more than one climax.
After another half hour, it was time for me to quit. The best intentions and the best of plans do go astray sometimes. I kissed Glenn goodnight and apologized, Morgan called me a "party pooper", I flipped him the finger and departed - almost on my hands and knees. Neither Glenn nor Morgan were fucked out, as yet; I don't know how much longer they stayed at it. Passing through the Living Room' on my way to my Bedroom, it was still fairly crowded. Also, every one was a little more inebriated that when I last took heed and nobody had on a single article of clothing.
One guy I had noticed several times before, a young Hispanic. He was quite effeminate and had at least eight rings on his hands and one on each of his little toes. He had the first bent dick I had ever seen, large and bent down. Maybe that was his attraction. The guy starting to service him had a nice dick - long, smooth and cut. Because I had watched it happen once before and even though I thought it was kind of a dirty trick, I got on my knees, got under him and started sucking him. It was really, hot. He was totally hard, even more than just hard. You could feel his excitement of giving a blowjob through his cock. He blew his nuts but didn't slow down a bit doing when he was doing. I felt guilty but then thought about it again and decided "what the hell"- you don't need an erection to give someone a blowjob!
After I pissed and hit the sack I left the conscious world. For the first time ever, I was not aware of when Morgan came to bed. When I woke it was full daylight and I only awoke then because Bobby and Bryan were shaking me awake. The jerks wanted me to take them horseback riding. What a revolting idea! The smell of a barn or the jolting of riding a horse could only worsen my fragile condition. Luckily, Phil was up and about and had made two large urns of strong coffee. The twins said they had ridden horses all their life and I had to admit they were good horsemen. We had ridden only a short while when they had the idea that we should all strip, except for our shoes, and ride around the cabin and wake the others up. We didn't wake up a lot of people but those that were awake hooted at our antics. Not Morgan. I felt like riding the horse up on the porch and hollering in the window at him but there were just too many sleeping bags on both porches.
By the time we returned, Phil, Tad and several other guys had lit the barbeque and had frying pans of bacon and eggs in process and they had looked in the cupboards and found the sweet rolls. Thank God I didn't have to face cooking breakfast. Later, to my surprise, every one pitched in, policed the grounds, bagged the trash in plastic garbage bags, mopped the floors and left the place much as it was before their caravan arrived.
Morgan and I both got a lot of bear hugs and hard, on the mouth kisses. Some suggested this be an annual event (I would need to think about that one). After they had all left I went back to bed and oblivion. Morgan joined me.
More to follow