TIM'S EXCITING SUMMER From the Jockey Club BBS, CA
The sun was just dropping below the horizon as Tim Claver glanced out the window of the bus. They were speeding down the straight highway bordered on both sides by farms as far as the eye could see. Tim was happy. School was over for the summer and he had three full months before he had to return to Chicago for his final year of high school. Several weeks earlier, after being perturbed at not being able to find a job for the summer, a letter had come from his Uncle Bob in Kansas. The letter had been an invitation to spend a month on the farm. Tim had leapt at the chance. He had been anxious to get our of the hustle and bustle of the city, and since he hadn't been able to find a job, this was just the chance he had been waiting for. Aunt Alice had died suddenly two years earlier, so Uncle Bob now lived alone in the big house with his son, Dave. Dave was around Tim's age, but Tim could hardly remember him. Uncle Bob's family had never come to Chicago to visit the Clavers, and Tin's family had only been once to visit the farm when Tim was eight years old. So, Tim was looking forward to seeing his relatives again. Tim stretched his large frame in the seat tugging at his tight Levis where they were pulling at the crotch. Tim ran his fingers through his soft, blond hair, and adjusted his sunglasses. He had matured fast and he was proud of the way others looked at him. He frequently caught admiring glances coming his way, from the guys as well as the girls. He had on a new pair of Levis that his mother had insisted that he wear, though he had insisted that he would be more comfortable in his old faded pair. But, no, she wanted him to make a good impression, so here he was suffering in his seat. Not only did the pants look new, but the gaps between the buttons of the fly had the annoying habit of opening far enough to show the white of his jockey shorts. He had already glimpsed two men staring at him. There were few people in the bus as it droned along the highway. Most of them had gotten off in Kansas City. Uncle Bob's farm was just outside of Abilene, so Tim didn't have too much further to go. In the seat across from him, Tim glanced at a young sailor who had boarded the bus in Kansas City. The sailor was lying back in his seat, with his jacket over his lap. At first, Tim thought he was asleep, but then he noticed the sailor's right hand was underneath the jacket, which was moving up and down. "Oh, wow," thought Tim, "it looks like he's jacking off in a public bus!" As he continued to watch out of the corner of his eye, Tim could see the rhythmic movements getting faster and faster and he could hear the sailor starting to breathe heavier. Tim's own dick began to harden as he realized what the sailor was doing. He made his tightly stretched Levis rub over his stiffening cock. He felt the rod getting hard and thick, pushing up along his belly until the bulbous head was touching the bottom of his brief's elastic waistband. Tim pushed his right leg out, stretching it and making room in his pants for his dick. Tim had discovered the pleasures of jacking off a few years before, but, while he enjoyed doing it, he never would have dared it where someone else might happen to notice. Just then, the bus driver pulled into a small town, bring the bus to a stop in front of a well-lighted restaurant. "We'll have a fifteen minute rest stop," he called out. The sailor, after a little activity under his jacket, had gotten up to leave the bus, and Tim, curious, followed at a safe distance. As the sailor stepped down the steps of the bus to the platform, Tim was right behind him, and he noticed the outlines of his underpants through the tight white material of his uniform. As he reached the light, the sailor stopped briefly at the candy counter and Tim noticed how really handsome he was. He looked not much older than Tim, with dark hair and a well-tanned complexion. As she reached up to pay for his candy bar, Tim couldn't help but notice the long, stiff rod that was perfectly obvious through the tight pants. Tim's cock stirred again, and he wondered, "What's the matter with me? Why should I find this sailor so interesting?" Unable to restrain himself, Tim followed the sailor as he went into the men's room. As Tim entered, he noticed the door of the last cubicle closing and under it saw the sailor turn around and drip his pants to the floor. Hesitatingly, Tim entered the next cubicle, and unbuckled his Levis. As he pulled them down, he could feel his now erect dick straining to get out of the soft, white material of his jockey shorts. He traced the outline of the hard rod before pulling the shorts down and sitting on the toilet, wondering what was happening next door. Tim was a little disturbed to find that several holes had been bored in the wall. "What if he can see me, the way I am?" thought Tim, and he pushed his erect cock down between his legs. Tim tried keeping his eyes straight ahead, but as he heard a soft rhythmic sound from the next booth, he stealthily glanced over toward one of the holes. It was small, and at first he couldn't make out anything through it. Suddenly there was movement, and as his eyes focused, he was able to make out a long, thick cock, sticking out of the fly of a pair of tight briefs, being gently massage by the sailor's hand. Tim's own cock was straining between his legs. He reached down and began to stroke it, slowly so the movements could not be heard. Tim could sense the sailor moving closer to the wall. "Was he listening, or looking through the hole himself?" wondered Tim. Then, through the hole he had been looking through, Tim saw a rolled sheet of toilet paper being pushed through. With trembling hands, he pulled it out, unrolled it, and read what had been hastily penciled on one side-- "Why don't you push it through the large hole?" Tim was aghast. What did this guy mean? Sure enough, there was a hole about an inch and a half in diameter just in front of him. "I guess he wants to see my cock," thought Tim, "Oh well, why not; what can I lose?" So, standing and facing the wall, letting his pants and briefs drop to the floor, Tim placed his erect lance through the hole. Was that a sigh he heard? He was about to pull it back, when he felt the softest tough as the sailor's fingers, feathery light, brushed over the straining purple head. Slowly, they strayed down the shaft, playing with the folds of skin, tweaking the wispy hairs that grew around the base. Tim was petrified, but he didn't move. He was feeling the strangest and most wonderful sensation. Then, he started, as something moist touched the shaft. The sailor's tongue had taken the place of his fingers, and it was tracing circles on Tim's hot flesh. "Oh wow," murmured Tim as the sailor's mouth closed delicately over the head, and stared a slow, sucking motion. Tim bent his knees and strained against the wall. Jacking off had never felt like this. His cock was expanding and expanding until he was sure it would burst. Ecstasy overcame Tim. "Oh, man," he exclaimed, "keep it up, don't stop...don't stop ...oh, man, ohhhh!" tim could not hold back his climax, and he shot and shot into the greedy mouth; time and time again he came, while the sailor licked every last drop of thick boy cum. Weakly, Tim fell back on the seat, closing his eyes to relive the delicious sensation. My, he had never felt anything like that every before in his whole life. "Bus number 2846 is now boarding," blared the loud speaker to bring Tim our of his reverie. As Tim pulled up his jockey shorts and pants, he noticed that the sailor had already returned to the bus. Tim hurried back to his seat just as the bus lurched back onto the highway. As he glanced across the aisle, he saw the sailor look up and smile at him. Tim shyly smiled back and drifted off into a restful sleep.