Summer of Enlightenment

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This story is a story about how a young man loses his virginity during a time when our country was losing its innocence's. The story contains descriptions of sexual experimentation, encounters, and contact between consenting adolescent males. The story is loosely based upon my life growing up. The specific names, places, times, and dates have been altered to protect the innocent. Although a work of fiction it is loosely based on my life and the lives of those I love.

If you are not of legal age to read stories of this nature or are offended by the subject matter herein do not read any further.

Summer of Enlightenment

The summer of enlightenment -- 1962. 1962 was the beginning of a decade of change, enlightenment, and growth for America and the world. A year the world would stand still for fourteen days on the brink of nuclear doom. President John F. Kennedy would face off against the U.S.S.R. bringing the world the closest it had ever come to nuclear war. The Berlin Crisis posed a real threat to world peace. The United States established a semi-permanent military presence in the Republic of South Vietnam. The Catholic Church convened the Second Vatican Council. Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann was executed in Israel. And Marilyn Monroe, the beautiful cover girl that was the subject of every young boys pubescent dreams, died as a result of an overdose of sleeping pills.

On a lighter note, the New York Yankees won the World Series 4 to 3 over San Francisco. Jackie Robinson was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame. The Green Bay Packers defeated the New York Giants to take the NFL Championship. Phil Knight developed the first Nike running shoe. And the average salary in the U.S. was $5,556.00, a house cost $30,000.00, a car cost a little over $2,000.00.

The top movies were Lawrence of Arabia, How the West Was Won, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Manchurian Candidate. The hit songs were Blowin' in the Wind, Days of Wine and Roses, The Twist, Soldier Boy, and Duke of Earl. TV shows were Beverley Hillbillies, Route 66, Price is Right, and The Flintstones. The leading books of the year were Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley. And this was a decade that would begin to expand the envelope of decency in the arena of entertainment.

Now, that should put the summer of 1962 into perspective for all. A decade that would spawn the Civil Rights Movement, Anti War Protests, and acceptance of alternative life styles in America. A decade that would see our beloved president assassinated, his brother and Martin Luther King slain, and the character of our country ripped apart. This was a decade of change, enlightenment, and growth for all; the decade of death for over fifty-five thousand young American's in the most unpopular war in history. This was the beginning of the loss of innocence's for all of us. 1962, was the summer I would lose my innocence, too.

Preface: Before I tell this story of my youth, early sexual experimentation, encounters, and experiences I want to clear the air about certain things and share some insight into my soul. First of all I am a garden-variety Euro-American male with strong family ties and conservative family values. My ancestry is primarily Scottish mixed with French, English, Irish, and a tad Native American. My family's lineage in America can be traced back to the 1600s along the eastern United States, winding west and ending up in southern Illinois sometime in the early 1800s; thus, I consider myself a product of early American Heartland -- Home of the America pioneers.

From my earliest memories I felt that I inherited that pioneer spirit. I was a normal but somewhat adventuresome and exuberant lad who grew up as a part-time Army brat. I was and remain a very inquisitive and insightful person prone to exploration and experimentation. I think that I was born with a voracious appetite for adventure and knowledge. I could have been best portrayed as a rough-and-tumble youngster of the 1960s -- just the average All-American teenager growing up next-door during the tumultuous 60s.

I was the only child of a career Army officer and his wife; therefore, we moved around throughout my youth. I experienced many things at a much earlier age than most of my peers. The family never stayed in one location more than a couple of years at a time and three years was an exception to the rule. I was forever changing schools, and thereby forced to make new friends out of necessity. I was lucky in that I was able to travel throughout America and parts of the world with my parent's, whereby I experienced many different cultures and lifestyles during my developing and adolescent years. Therefore, I was more fortunate than many of my peers, meeting interesting people throughout my early life I consider myself very lucky to have experienced it all.

I was never mentally or physically abused as a child or young man; moreover, no adult family member of either sex ever abused or molested me. I did receive my share of high-volume ass chewing when I deserved them. I never made the honor roll or the dean's list in school, much to my parent's chagrin. However, I was no dummy either; mainly schools and teachers just bored the hell out of me. I managed to bring home average grades, mostly B and C grades during my elementary and high school years. I am sure that I could have been an outstanding student and athlete during my adolescent years, if I had paid more attention to details and tried harder, my dad's words. I was a student of the world and life experiences.

I participated in a variety of sports programs from an early age and was an adequate athlete; if I excelled at any sport it was baseball. I played little league, and participated in many YMCA sponsored activities prior to high school. I became a proficient at ice skater, roller skater, water skier, and learned to play ice hockey, too. In high school I was into football, wrestling, baseball, and also learned the fine points of golf and tennis. I never won any medals or championship titles in sports, just had fun playing the game. I don't think I had aspirations of being a sports superstar or making it into the NFL. I didn't have the drive of my dad to distinguish myself and was satisfied with a life of mediocrity. My dreams were to become a championship motorcycle or racecar driver, but that never came to fruition.

From my earliest memories I was interested in and inquisitive about mechanical things, motorized vehicles, and sex. I could generally be found in the garage many times tinkering with mechanical things such as garden equipment, go-karts, motorcycles, and other vehicles. My friends would call upon me when they got into trouble with repairs on their bikes, cars, and mowers. I was proud of my mechanical knowledge and able to assist them. I enjoyed pleasing everyone around me in my life.

I attended church regularly, belonged to the church youth group, and was a Cub and Boy Scout throughout my early years. I learned to fish, hunt, and trap at an early age with the help of my dad, uncles, and cousins. My favorite times in school were lunch and recess; English, history and geography were courses where I excelled over other studies. I was never a bully and did not tolerate those thugs who were. I would come to the defense of the downtrodden, and side with those being harassed or beaten up. Sometimes those interventions cost me, too. My dad admonished me from an early age to not start fights, but never back away from one after the first punch was thrown. I guess my size helped me avoid many physical altercations.

As a kid in school, from fifth-grade on, I was physically a little bigger than most of my peers until I got into high school. I reach a height of six feet late in the eight-grade and achieved my full height of six foot two inches later in high school. I was not a muscular body builder type in elementary school years, but as time moved on my body developed into reasonably well-defined more than moderately muscled young man by the time I got to high school. I don't think anyone would have ever described me as a sissy or swishy boy. I wasn't a geek or nerd, nor was I the big man on campus, just an average All-America boy during those adolescent years of the 1950s and 1960s.

My adolescent years were the beginnings of the tempestuous decade -- the 60s. A time in my life that was full of feelings of uncertainty. Sometime in the fifth-grade I discovered that my body was undergoing some minor changes, the onset of puberty. I also found out about that time in my life that sex and certain sexual activities aroused me. My body was undergoing certain physical changes. I was experiencing sexual feelings that excited me. The sexual stories circulating on the playground during recess, lunch, and P.E. were intriguing. I was naturally curious about sex at this time in my life.

I found that many of my daydreams and fantasies were consumed with sex and sexual encounters. I dreamed about the day I would have the body of an Adonis and hung like John Holmes, what boy didn't. Alas, none of that came to fruition, and I would grow up to be just an ordinary man with average sized physical attributes. Although I started out somewhat of a gangling youngster my body developed into that of a mature young man over the years with physical attributes that were all average size.

The only thing that may have been out of the ordinary was my over zealous appetite for sex as a boy. My friends used to kiddingly say that I would fuck a knothole if there were fur surrounding it. For most boys early sexual encounters were all about getting off, no love or romance involved, just getting a nut. So, to best describe my youthful sexuality I guess that I would have been portrayed as somewhat of a trisexual -- I would try anything sexual. I appreciated girls for certain things, but definitely had a taste for boys, too.

The young girls in school were somewhat of a problem for me in that they had this monthly problem, so fooling around during that time was off limits and a real sexual turnoff for me. Also, many girls still wanted to save themselves for the right person and marriage. Hell, all I wanted to do was experiment sexually with the young ladies. Girls, unless they had been schooled in the area of oral pleasuring did not know how to give decent head. However, boys seem to have a natural knack for orally pleasuring another guy. A lot of young girls didn't practice healthy hygiene in the area between their legs; therefore, the odor from the lack of soap and water in that area drove many us boys away.

I found that boys tended to be sexual explorers by nature from an early age. I remember from my earliest memories of my youth how great it felt to caress my cock, play with it, and watch it grow to its full potential. Whenever I touched it there was this sense of pleasure associated therewith. Sometimes it would spring to attention without even being touched; sometimes spontaneously it was standing tall at the most inopportune times.

As time moved on I found that if I manipulated it in just the right way for a period of time I would experience these strange tingling sensations in my body. Those feelings would start in my feet and move up my legs to my groin with an explosive force cause my body to buck and shudder, and then I was totally spent from it all. I would later learn that this was something called a dry orgasm. A little later in life those feelings turned into full-fledged erotic orgasms, producing a reproductive bodily fluid called cum or spooge, that's when one really enjoys sex.

I think that I entered puberty a little earlier than many of my peers. I was well into my eleventh year when puberty pounced upon my person, and sometime in the sixth grade my body experienced its first orgasm -- a wet dream. Sadly, that happened one night while I was sleeping soundly; therefore, there was no one around to share this magnificent milestone of life. My first sexual encounter was in my twelfth year; the summer before I started the seventh grade with my two cousins. My mother and I would be spending the summer of 1962 with her brother and his wife on the family farm in Illinois.

That summer my dad was between Army assignments and scheduled to attend some Army school in Panama. Living with relatives had become somewhat of a way of life for mom and me during those early years that my dad was in the Army. My aunt and uncle had two boys, the youngest was eleven almost twelve and the older one was thirteen. Both, I would find out were well versed in the ways of the birds and bees. Little did I know that this would be the summer I would lose my innocence's and it would be the summer of enlightenment and growth for me.

Summer of Enlightenment: My First Sexual Encounter

My parent's and I arrived at Uncle Delbert and Aunt Lilly's southern Illinois farm on a humid Sunday afternoon in mid-June 1962. We had driven up from Fort Benning, Georgia; a tiring fourteen hours trip through Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, and into southern Illinois. The trip was about a six hundred miles drive through some really beautiful country. Dad drove the entire way and needless to say we were all tired from the trip, but once we arrived we got our second wind visiting with family.

Dad was scheduled to spend the rest of the afternoon with us, staying for dinner and visiting, and then depart early Monday morning for the airport in St. Louis. Uncle Delbert would drive him to the airport so he could fly out to Panama for the Army school he was scheduled to attend. Dad was heading to one of the toughest schools that the Army ran, the Jungle Operations Training Course at Fort Sherman. All together he would spend nine weeks at Fort Sherman; the first three weeks he was scheduled to go through the Jungle Operations Course, and then the rest of the time would be devoted to some more advanced and highly specialized type of jungle training.

Dad was what the Army calls a Mustang; that is a commissioned officer that has been promoted up from the enlisted ranks. Presently, he was a twenty-nine years old First Lieutenant on the list to be promoted to Captain. In fact, he had proudly announced to all of us that Sunday afternoon after we arrived at my aunt and uncle's that he might be wearing Captain's bars the next time we saw him again. Dad knew he was a little older than most of the candidates that were sent to schools like the one at Fort Sherman. However, dad knew he was up to the physical and mental challenges as he had all ready shown by finishing the Army's Ranger training program, graduating in the top of his class. He had also recently completed advance airborne training at Fort Benning.

I had always been very proud of my dad for what he had endured and accomplished thus far in life, but I knew this trial would test his mettle. He and mom had struggled and sacrificed throughout their married life, now things were starting to turn around and looking up for our family. Mom and Dad had been through rough times since they met, fell in love, and eventually married after high school. I was the accidental by-product of that high school romance.

Mom and dad were high school sweethearts who had been dating all through high school. Late in their senior year, I suppose it was the night of their senior prom, I was conceived. So, dad did the honorable thing and asked Grandpa Murphy for mom's hand in marriage, of course she accepted. John Paul Thomas and Mildred Marie Murphy were to be married in a large church wedding attended by family from five surrounding counties in southern Illinois and other parts of the country.

The two old time families planned a big church wedding in Murphysboro for the weekend after dad was to graduate from Army Basic Training in July 1950. You see dad had joined the Illinois Army National Guard some time during the spring of 1950 with his parent's blessings. Dad planned to get his military obligation out of the way in about six months, go onto college on a football scholarship, graduate, and then go into the family business. All of that suddenly changed on that fateful Sunday morning at 4 AM, Korean Standard Time, June 25, 1950, and by 11 AM that day the North Korean government officially declared war on South Korea. Five days later President Truman requested and received permission to send U.S. ground combat forces into South Korea to help push the North Korean's back towards the north. That course of global events drastically changed my parent's life and their plans for the future. The one thing that could not be changed was my coming to life a few months from then.

Mom and dad married immediately in a hurried ceremony after high school graduation and before he shipped out for Army Basic Training. After dad finished basic training he was sent directly to Fort Benning, Georgia for more advanced infantry, parachute, and pathfinder training. On a blustery winter weekend in late 1950 my mom, pregnant with me, was allowed to spend two precious days together with her husband saying their goodbyes before he was sent off to the Korean front. Mom returned to Murphysboro where I was born shortly thereafter in January 1951. Mom would never see my dad again until late summer of 1953 after he had been released by the North Korean's and sent back to the United States.

Mom continued to work in her dad's store while my dad was serving his country in Korea. I spent much time with both sets of grandparents and aunts and uncles in Murphysboro. I was a baby when dad returned with the other POWs to recover from wounds received in action against a hostile enemy force. At least that is what it says on the Purple Heart citation that hangs in between the award photo and next to the Silver Star citation, both presented to my father by the then governor of Illinois and the Commander of the Illinois National Guard after he was released from the hospital. Dad returned a war hero, but was to pay the price for that heroism years later.

Dad had been severely wounded leading his platoon in one of the last offensive actions prior to the signing of the armistice; he had been taken prisoner by the North Korean's as a result of that action. After dad had recovered from his wounds he was released from active duty and reassigned to the National Guard. He started college shortly thereafter. He would begin classes in the fall of 1954 using his GI Bill entitlements and graduate from Northwestern University with a bachelor's degree in Business Administration and a minor in Asian History in the spring of 1957. All the time attending college he remained active in the National Guard and would spend two weeks or more every year on active duty training with his guard unit. He had moved up the NCO ranks making First Sergeant of his National Guard Company.

After graduation and a short vacation dad was ready once again to serve our country in uniform, only this time as an active duty Second Lieutenant. Since receiving his infantry branch commission dad had spent most of the time stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, assigned to different units there and attending different Army schools preparing him for future leadership rolls in Army infantry units. We lived on base with him, but didn't get to see much of him during those early years due to military commitments. Now, hopefully things were about the change for the better.

He told mom and the rest of us that if things went well while he was training in Panama he would be assigned to Fort Campbell, Kentucky, when he got back. He felt almost positive that assignment would be good for at least two years, maybe three. Needless to say dad was happier than I had seen him in years, and so was mom. They acted like two giddy teenagers in love the past few days. They were holding hands, hugging, and snuggling with each other while we all gathered on the big farmhouse porch talking to grandpa Smith and my aunt and uncle. I was sure that there was a little hanky-panky going on in the bedroom, too.

The southern Illinois humidity was bearable, but it didn't seem to bother anyone on that Sunday in June 1962. There was a strong stench of farm animals, silage, and other obnoxious odors in the air. The old family home place was typical of the old two-story farmhouses in that area with one of those wonderful wrap around porches. After grandmother Smith passed away a few years earlier grandpa persuaded uncle Delbert and aunt Lilly to move onto the farm to help him run things. I think the request was made more out of loneliness than desperation. My aunt and uncle moved out to the farm when my cousins were very young, so they had known nothing but rural farm life from an early age.

The first thing that caught my attention about the old house were the two swings hanging from the ceiling; there was one on each end of the porch as well as other furniture arranged on the main porch facing the driveway. I could tell that the porch was a gathering place for the family. There was a weather beaten brown leather overstuff chair that clearly belonged to grandpa Smith. Finally, there was a lull in the conversation, so I asked my aunt where my cousin's were at that afternoon. She apologized for ignoring me and told me that they were down at the creek with a couple of the neighbor boys, and assured me that they would be back at the house at 5 PM sharp; that was when dinner would be served.

Sure enough, a little while later, at about 4:45PM, we heard the sound of the old a tractor coming up the wash behind the old red barn. A few minutes later I saw the faded green and yellow John Deer tractor pull up by the barn and disgorge four boys all about the same age. I bounded down the steps of the porch and hurried towards the noisy group of boys. I hadn't seen my cousins in a couple of years and they had grown quite a bit in those years, but I could still identify them. The older one, Adam, had developed into a handsomely well-built young teenager. The younger one, Perry, was scrawnier and kind of gawky looking, but I was happy to see them both.

We all shook hands and hugged each other. We then began telling each other how good each of us looked and all the other lying and bullshit stories that go with meeting your cousins you haven't seen for a while. Of course, the two other boys were introduced, too. I noticed right away that I was bigger than Perry and one of their friends, but not quite as tall as Adam and the other boy. All of the boys were well tanned and moderately muscled except for Perry. Adam was by far the best looking with the most well defined body of the four. I knew I was going to enjoy spending the summer with Adam, Perry, and their friend's

I found out that the other boys were in the same scout troop as my cousins and they all played baseball for the church sponsored little league, although they were on different teams. They all went to the same church and school, too. However, Adam and the two other boys would be attending a new school in the fall. As we slowly made are way back up the path from the barn to the main house the two boys broke off and headed down the driveway towards the highway and eventually on to their homes. I expressed to Adam and Perry how lucky I was to be able to spend the summer with them.

We arrived at the main house and Aunt Lilly hollered for us to get washed up for dinner. We all scrambled into the washroom on the back porch to clean up for dinner. Dinner would be taken in the formal dinning room as it normally was for Sunday dinners and other family gatherings. We all sat down and grandpa Smith said grace. Uncle Del and grandpa began to pass them vittles from each end of the table. Everyone took big helpings, passed them on; meanwhile, aunt Lilly and mom filled the glasses with iced tea. Once all the plates and glasses were filled we all dove in to devour dinner. All was quiet around the big oak table as we all devoured the sumptuous meal Aunt Lilly had so dutifully prepared for us.

As we cleaned our plates and finished our tea my cousin's looked at me and winked, thereby requesting that they be excused. I followed suit. Aunt Lilly told us boys to unload the luggage from the station wagon and bring mom and dad's things inside and put things in the parlor for the time being. Dad spoke up and told us to leave his duffle bag in the vehicle. Aunt Lilly told her boys that I could take my stuff straight on out to the old bunkhouse when we were finished brining in mom and dad's things.

My cousin's smiled at me with impish grins and we headed out to unload the car. Our station wagon was packed reminiscent of pictures that I had seen of the migration from Okalahoma to California in the 1930s. I had read "The Grapes of Wrath," John Stienbeck's novel of that migration to the Promised Land in southern California, and couldn't help thinking how our family shared much of the same things as the characters in the book and film of the same name.

There was a trailer that needed to be disconnected, and luggage and boxes were strapped onto the roof rack. The back of the station wagon was stuff to the roof with our personal belongings. We finished unloading the car, placing the last of my mom's things and dad's bag in the parlor. My older cousin, Adam, asked my dad for the car keys, so he could disconnect the trailer and take the station wagon down the lane to the bunkhouse to unload my stuff. Dad looked over at Uncle Del whereby he nodded approvingly back to my dad.

Dad threw the car keys to Adam and told him not to hot-rod the car. He replied with a yes sir and we headed out the door, Perry and I bounding down the steps after Adam. We all piled into dad's station wagon and drove the few hundred yards down the lane to the bunkhouse. Adam backed the car up to the barn like a pro and we disconnected the trailer. From there we headed to the bunkhouse and got my bags and other personal stuff from the vehicle heading inside with them. Three trips in and out and all my things were piled in the middle of the floor of the old house. The place was in pretty good shape for an old time bunkhouse. I asked the boys why they were staying in this house and not the big main house.

They told me that because there were only four bedrooms in the main house and one of them was aunt Lilly's sewing room there would be more room for everyone using the bunkhouse. My aunt and uncle had decided that for the summer it would be more comfortable for all parties if the three of us boys lived in the bunkhouse, letting my mom have their big bedroom that was upstairs. So, the boys had worked the two weeks prior, putting a fresh coat of paint inside and thoroughly cleaning the old bunkhouse up for summer living. They had also moved all their clothes and personal stuff into the old house last week and were well established by the time I arrived.

Perry told me it was going to be cool living in the bunkhouse without any adults around. He said that we could be as loud and rowdy as we wanted, as long as we didn't burn the fucking place down. Wow, I had never heard either of my cousins use that kind of language before, but they had both grown up since the last time I saw them. The old bunkhouse was big enough and it was going to be neat for the three of to live away from the adults.

There was one large room in the center with three sets of large bunk beds; one on each of three walls, a chest of drawers for each set of beds, a table in the center, a television and radio, and a couple of old overstuff chairs, too. There was a nice bathroom with a big shower and a kitchenette with stove and refrigerator. The refrigerator was stocked with sodas, milk, and other snack items. I thought, all in all not too bad a setup for three adolescent boys that summer of 1962.

Adam told me to unpack my shit and put it in the dresser over there as he pointed to the chest of drawers on the east wall. If you have anything that needs to be hung up there are hangers in the closet over there, pointing to the door between the kitchen entry and bathroom door. Perry started to help me put my stuff away while Adam headed out the door.

Perry and I started to unpack my things putting the small stuff away in the dresser drawers and hanging the other stuff in the walk-in closet. He told me to take either the top or bottom bunk on the east wall of the room. I threw my pillow and sleeping bag on the bottom bunk spreading it out. Adam came back into the room and said that we were supposed to go back up to the main house for desert, if we wanted it, before we went to bed.

We all headed out the door, got back into my dad's station wagon, and drove the short distance back to the main house. Once there grandpa told Adam to gas up the station wagon for tomorrow's trip. Perry and me stayed with grandpa Smith on the porch talking to him. My dad and mom came out of the house and sat down in one of the swings and began to slowly swing back and forth. They looked so sweet snuggling next to each other. I knew mom was going to miss him when he left tomorrow. Uncle Del came out on the porch and told us boys that he wanted all of us to go directly to bed with no horseplay after desert. He said that he would be checking in on us later in the night, something he rarely did. He told us that breakfast would be earlier than usual in the morning because he was driving my dad to the airport in St. Louis.

We all helped ourselves to huge dishes of delicious homemade apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream on top and washed it down with big glasses of milk. All of us boys asked to be excused as we pushed away from the table. My dad got up pouring a brandy and walked out the door with us. He pulled me close to his body, hugging me and telling me to look after mom while he was gone. He said barring no complications he would be back in August, and hopefully we would be moving onto Fort Campbell. He kissed me on the forehead and swatted me on the behind telling me to get to bed without any nonsense and he'd see me in the morning. We all slowly shuffled down the lane towards the bunkhouse; meanwhile, I was looking over my shoulder watching dad, uncle Del, and grandpa light up their evening cigars and sip their drinks.

The three of them would sit on the porch and talk until they finished their beverages and cigars; indulging in brandy or sipping whiskey was something older adults of that time enjoyed. Mom and aunt Lilly would clean up the dishes and join them later. That was the way it was in the Heartland of America during those years of my youth and innocence. However, that was all beginning to change. For us boys once inside the bunkhouse we all got ready for bed and hit the hay with little fuss and then Adam turned off the light. Oh, there was some boyish belching and farting and along with that came the usual giggling and snickering, but before long we all were fast asleep.

The next morning I was startled awake by the blaring of a horn that was used to beckon all to breakfast. We all got out of bed, pissed, washed the sleep off our faces, and dashed up the lane towards the main house. There on the porch stood my dad, standing straight and tall in his tan Tropical Worsted uniform, drinking a cup of coffee. His set of TW's was adorned with all accouterment, badges, and decorations he was authorized. We all stopped dead in our tracks at the bottom of the steps and looked up at my dad in awe. I saluted him and he snapped a smart hand salute back in my direction. Let's eat aunt Lilly hollered.

Everyone headed into the big dinning room and gathered around the oak table waiting to be seated. Once seated grandpa gave grace and he and uncle Del began passing the biscuits, gravy, ham, eggs, and potatoes. There was also plenty of OJ, milk, and coffee as well as breakfast rolls. All of us boys dove into them vittles and began devouring our breakfast; breakfast on the farm was the big meal of the day so you didn't want to miss out on it.

We finished breakfast with little fanfare; in fact, it was quite that morning the air was heavy and somber. Dad walked out with his bag, stowing it in the rear of the station wagon along side his duffle bag. We all gathered around the station wagon for final hugs and good-byes. I asked dad how come he was leaving so early since his flight wasn't until the afternoon. He put his arm around my shoulder and told me that they were going to stop by the cemetery to pay respects to his mother and father and grandma. He told me to have a good time for the summer and try not to worry about him that he would be all right. All the adults got settled into the station wagon except grandpa Smith. I went to the car window and kissed my dad good-bye with a tear in my eye. They all drove down the driveway and turned onto the highway all the while waving to us until we lost sight of the vehicle.

Once out of sight my two cousins turned to me and asked what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I told them that I didn't have a clue for them to lead the way and I would follow. Little did I know then that those words would become my Achilles' Heel as far as my cousins were concerned and haunt me for the rest of the summer with them. I had thereby formally submitted to them and their sinister wishes and desires. We headed out towards the creek for some swimming and other things.

Once down at the creek the boys shed their clothing and were naked in lightening speed. I just stood there in total amazement. Adam turned facing me and asked if I could swim. I told him I could, and he asked me what I was waiting for. I told him that I didn't have my swimming trunks with me and that I would have to go back to the bunkhouse to get them. He laughed and said who needs trunks; we all go skinny dipping down here. I stood there in awe of my older cousin's body; I tired not to be too conspicuous eyeing his naked crotch.

Wow, he was well tanned and well built, all over. His physical attributes in the reproductive area were well developed for thirteen years old. He had a slight trail of dark hair running from his navel down to a small patch of pubic hair at the base of his penis. His acorn-sized testicles had dropped into a brown wrinkled scrotal sac. His penis was bigger than Perry and me; maybe about three inches long soft, and like Perry and I he was circumcised, too. I thought he was generally well endowed for a young teenager. Perry was standing there naked too, but his body and build plus the other physical attributes in no way compared to the older boy.

I finally stripped down, a little embarrassed by my smaller equipment, and jumped into the creek along with my cousins. Damn, that creek water was cold for summer I thought, and the low temperature shrunk my weenie immediately. After some playful grab-assing and swimming we all got out of the water and lay down on the bank of the creek to soak up some summer sun. We lay there in the nude with our heads propped up by our arms, our heads resting on our hands with elbows dug into the sand.

We started talking and catching up on what had happened in our lives since we last saw each other. The conversation eventually turned to girls, sex, did I jack off, and could I cum yet. Well, now I was fast becoming aroused and from what I could observe the other two were in a state of arousal, too. So, it was decided that we would have a cousinly circle jerk to see who was telling the truth and who was bull shitting. As we caressed and played with our cocks I could see that Adam was definitely bigger than Perry and me.

Adam laughed and said that his brother couldn't cum yet. We continued to play with ourselves for a while longer. Soon I felt that tingling sensation start to build in my right foot and began to travel up my leg. My body shook and I exploded with a little orgasm. About the same time Adam began to tense up and begin bucking and moaning, and his penis spat forth a couple of whitish ropes of jizz. I was definitely impressed with the distance of the first shot. Perry embarrassingly climaxed with a dry orgasm. We all were spent and lying on our back recovering. Finally, we got back into the creek for a while, and then got out putting our clothes back on, and head off towards the main house.

Once back at the bunkhouse Adam headed to the main house to check on grandpa and tell him we were back from swimming so he wouldn't worry. Perry and I hit the bunks for a quick nap. I had been dreaming about Adam and how I was playing with his hard penis when I heard someone through my subconscious saying would ya look at that little hard-on. My eyes opened slightly and both my cousins and two of their friends were standing over me with those impish smirks on their faces admiring my erection that had found its way out of the fly of my white boxers. Adam looked at his friends and said, "How big do you think it is?"

Damn, I had just been on the farm twenty-four hours and these guys decided it was time to compare cocks to see who had the biggest. Seems that this was a big thing during adolescence to see who had the bigger equipment. I knew already that Perry and I were about the same size: about the size of breakfast sausages when hard. So, it was decided to get out the tape to see who measured up and who didn't. I knew that Adam was sure to measure up and he did; five inches long and one and half inches thick. He was longer than Perry by two inches and me by an inch. Adam was also about twice as thick as the two of us preteens.

The other two boys measured in, too. One was about the same size as Adam and the other was in between Perry and me. I was just a little bigger than Perry and my cock was much better looking, according to Adam. And the other two boys seconded that. I kind of felt sorry for Perry being the smallest of all of us.

Once that was out of the way then it was onto some mutual masturbation. The gang taught me some new techniques to toss off. I had been doing what may be called a roll off technique, which is where one uses both hands, places the penis between the palms of the hands, and begins to roll the penis back and forth between the palms. The boys taught me a couple new styles, including the standard procedure using a clenched fist wrapped around the penis shaft, thereby stroking it up and down using lubricant. A technique that I would find out was the most popular among boys. I couldn't believe it; my first day of my summer vacation on the farm, and my first sexual encounter was with my cousins and their friends.

What better way to educate me as to the nuances of male bonding, sex, and sexual experiences in my world of naivete? Could things get any better for me during my summer of enlightenment? I hoped so.

Any comments on the story are welcome and may be addressed to: mrarousal2003@yahoo.com Subject Summer of Enlightenment