TOO EARLY FOR APPLES
by Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
"Hey, Johnny, come on!" Bart's voice called to me as I left the school building. It was only a few weeks until the end of school, the weather was warm and clear, the leaves of the trees and the grass beneath my feet was green, bright green, the birds were calling and busy in every tree, building nests, mating, fighting for territory. The world was alive, my blood was pulsing in my veins, being released from school was a sensation akin to being released from prison!
Bart was waiting for me at the bike stand. His blue bicycle and my red one stood side-by-side as always, it was only a matter of taking my bike from the silver rack and off we went, down the placid streets of Tompkinville, racing headlong down the streets, swerving to avoid the occasional car going down the main street of our little town. Tompkinville was like a town caught in time, unchanged or little changed over the last few centuries. So automobiles now traveled its streets rather than horse-drawn carriages, and here and there you heard the ring of a telephone. Somehow, Tompkinville remained as it was--frozen in time.
So we weren't out of place on our bicycles, even though we suffered the occasional hoots and horn-blows from our schoolmates which had cars or rides in cars. I just didn't care; not on a day like this (I cared a lot on rainy days!), but today, with the sun on my face, the wind in my hair, a bicycle was the only way to fly!
I felt like I was flying, for Bart and I were heading downhill. I thought we were heading down to the beach, but then we started up again. Now I had to pump my bike (this was no ten-speed, just a pedal to turn the chain around and around, one-on-one) and I was gasping, looking at Bart's broad back and dark brown hair, his red shirt flapping behind almost like a cape; I wished I had unbuttoned my shirt like he had, but he'd known where we were going, not me.
I still didn't know, when we started back uphill, we were heading away from the water, away from town, away from everything. Nothing much where we were going.
"Hey, Bart, where're we going?" I panted when a brief drop downhill let me catch up with him.
"Apple Hill."
"Huh?" But he was off again, he could ride the bike faster than me, always could. He had such powerful legs, such a strong body. Muscles seemed to cling to his body, I was on the football team with him, I worked out with him, and still he was bigger than me, more muscled and could press more weights. And could ride faster, damn it!
Then he was off the bike and running up the hill. "Race you to the top!" He said, which wasn't fair because he had that head start on me. Still, I gave it a try and managed to only be a few feet behind him when he got to the single, large apple tree that gave this otherwise nondescript and unimportant hill its name, and sat down under it.
He leaned up against it and laughed at me, and I had to laugh, too. I couldn't be mad at him, not over a little thing like this. "Hey, I thought we were going swimming after school." I reminded him. I could outswim him, at least.
"We will." he said. He grinned over at me, his face open and friendly. His chest moved in long, slow swells, his arcs of muscle accented by the light sheen of sweat, so that each curve stood out distinctly and clearly, he sat with one leg extended and one drawn up to rest on his foot, and his arm rested on that knee, hand dangling easily.
I took off my own shirt and wiped my face. "So, why are we here? Too early to get an apple, unless you want a belly-ache to go along with it." The apples were just small knobs on the tree, barely past blooming. A green apple in midsummer can be fun, the sourness just what you want on a hot afternoon, but now...you'd be safer cropping the grass!
"What about the view?" he said to me.
I had to admit that Apple Hill had a nice view. The town was obscured by the trees, save for the single tower of the church steeple, but you could look out over the waters of the bay a long, long way. "Yeah, the view's nice."
"Yeah." Then, after a short pause. "Who you taking to the prom?"
I shrugged. "I don't know yet." Actually, I did know, my cousin had agreed to go with me if I couldn't find anyone else, she was a year older than me and pretty enough and unknown in town; she'd be a good way to get through the prom. She'd even pretend to be my girlfriend, Tina was one great girl. "What about you?"
"Nope." Bart said. "I sort of figured I'd go alone."
"Really?" I said. "Maybe I'll go alone if you do."
"Great." Bart said. "I'll pick you up in my dad's car and we can go together."
"Cool." I said. "Though Mom'll be disappointed. She wanted to get a picture of me and my prom date."
"Well, I could bring you a corsage if you want one." he said.
I stared at him, then barked out a laugh, loud and noisy, like a jackass. "Haw-haw-haw-haw!" Then an extension of the joke came to me. "Only if you dance every dance with me, too. Haw-haw-haw-haw!"
"All of them?" he said, laughing himself, quieter.
"Sure." I said. "Like they say, dance with the one who brung you."
"You sound like an expensive date." he said.
I was still laughing like an idiot. "And of course, we'd also have to stop off for a late-night malted at Sharky's." That was another school tradition, Sharky's stayed open late on prom night. "More pictures were taken there, these for the town newspaper.
"Think your folks would let you stay out that late?"
"Sure." I said. "No curfew on prom night. Dad even said I could take the key to our cabin if, you know." We had a small cabin a couple of miles further out along the bay, inherited from my grandparents when they passed away; they had lived there during the summers.
"If what?" Bart said.
"If I was to get lucky." I said. "You know, with my prom date."
"Yeah." He said. "That'd be nice."
"Only I don't have a girlfriend." I'd dated a couple now and then, you have to in a small town. You gulp, get up your courage, take her out for a movie or dance or carnival, and maybe you give her a kiss and then you find a reason to pick a fight with her so you can break up after the first date or two. It gives you a reputation as being a bit of a jerk, but after a while, the girls don't bother you much and your parents agree that a small town is too small to find a wife in, wait until college and meet some more girls, and boom, you're home free.
"Me, neither." Bart said.
"Why is that?" I asked him, leaning up on both my elbows and looking at him. Bart was a hell of a good-looking guy, the girls were all the time looking at him and giggling. He'd laugh with them and go on group things, same as me, but somehow he never went off alone with any of them. Everyone else did.
Bart just shrugged, changed the subject. "You can get the keys to this cabin?"
"Sure." I said. "Dad has the keys, I just tell him I need them. I even talked about taking the cabin for the entire summer, live away from home for a while. Mom didn't like that idea, though, me living all alone."
"Would she do it if you and I were sharing it for the summer?" Bart said.
"Maybe." I said. "Mom likes you, you know. You want to do it?"
"Sure." Bart shrugged.
"Then we'll do that. Get summer jobs and be bachelors together."
"Cool." Bart agreed.
"Was that all we came up here for, to discuss the prom?" I said. "We going swimming now?"
"We can." Bart said. "If that's what you want to do."
"I dunno." I said. "What do you wanna do?"
Bart looked over at me then and I had never felt a look like that before. "We could pick apples." He said.
"It's too early for apples." I pointed out. "Even green apples."
"I didn't mean that." he said, and his eyes were driving nails in my heart, they were so intense.
Bemused by that look, it took me a moment to get it. "Oh." I said.
Apple Hill was busy during the summer nights. Couples would come here to "pick apples." It was an excuse to get up here, sheltered from all the prying eyes of town. The grass grew lush and green and soft. After nightfall, the large open common could hold a dozen or more couples. After dark. During the day, this early in the year, nobody came up here.
"Do you want to?" He asked me. Just like that, he asked me. I licked my lips and nodded, not able to speak. He smiled slowly when I nodded, like his mouth was curving upwards of its own. "I want to, too." He said.
Feeling something like a child, something like a clumsy ape, I crawled/hunched/slithered up to lie next to him. He wasn't moving, but he wasn't pulling away, either. Like he was waiting for me.
Then when my arms touched him he sort of melted into them and his arms came up and curved around me, less like they were reaching out but more like an amoeba surrounds a bit of food, like he was growing around me and molding himself to me and I could feel him sort of trembling, or maybe that was me, I couldn't tell.
I know my lips were trembling when I reached out to kiss him, it was like I couldn't keep them still. I didn't really kiss him, I just sort of put my mouth over his, I couldn't bring them into a pucker, but then his lips met with mine and suddenly everything fit all together, just right. He was in my arms, and now he felt human and real, I can't really explain it. It was like I could feel his bones, all of them, like holding a human skeleton, but it wasn't bare, cold bones I held, it was all covered in warm, warm skin and cushioned out by his organs and muscles and all of him was there, it was...it was real. He was real and I was real and I was doing this, I was really, finally doing this.
I'd been so nervous thinking about my first time, what would I do, how would I handle it, and now I was doing it and it was the most natural thing in the world. I didn't have to perform or know just how to make love, it was all just doing what I wanted to do and it felt good. Bart was my friend, my best friend, we'd been friends forever, yet this had been a secret I had never shared with him and he'd never shared with me, and he'd done this, he'd brought us up here to Apple Hill for this reason, to try to make love to his best friend, me. Sure, I didn't have to prove anything to Bart, and he didn't have to prove anything to me. We knew each other. Even if we both creamed in our jeans at that moment, it wouldn't have mattered; we would just laugh and forget about it. That's how much I trusted him, hell, he and I had similar embarrassing shared memories already!
His lips were soft and smooth and moist and pliable, kind of like a round rubber band only this band was alive and moving itself, shaping itself to me. And his hands were alive on me, touching me all over, touching my bare skin, I had my hands outside his shirt but that didn't matter, I was holding him and he was holding me and it was all great, just great.
Then he shifted and I felt his erection inside his pants press upwards against mine. God, I was so hard right then, my cock was feeling like it would explode, and my hard-on, my painful pole of turgid flesh, had another hard rod lying under it, and Bart kind of wiggled his buttocks in a circular motion and his cock swirled underneath mine, and God, that felt so good! I began to hunch back at him, and that made it even better, we were cooperating in rubbing our dicks against each other, he would move one way as I moved another and that would double the distance; we were really getting some motion out of very small movements we each made.
I hated to break off that kiss but I had to, I was fucking suffocating, I just broke away and gasped, "Ah! Ah, hah! Guh, uh, uh!" And my mouth, able to make sounds now I wasn't kissing Bart, began to moan like I was in pain or something.
"Yeah, oh, yeah!" Bart panted to me. "Come on, Johnny, let's do it, let's do it, man, God, yes, let's do it now."
"Yeah." I sighed. And then Bart's hands reached up to my waist and fumbled with the top of my pants. They had a kind of little clasp there and a zipper below that, and I felt them both fall open under his dancing fingers, I propped myself up off of him on my knees to give him room for his hands, and he did it, he undid my pants and pushed them down off from my buttocks, and then came back up and caught the elastic waistband of my briefs and fed his fingers into them and then I felt his hands on my bare buttocks and I groaned, and then he was skinning my shorts down, too.
My turn, I thought and I sat up even straighter and I got hold of his jeans. He had buttons, all of them buttons and I fought them, clumsy and overeager, I was at first ineffective and then lust lent a kind of fury to my motions, and I grabbed those stubborn pants and I really yanked at them, hard, and then the buttons gave up the struggle and I got them undone.
Bart's hand grabbed my cock then and I was suddenly lost. It was like I was suddenly his prisoner, helpless, unable to move, because he had hold of my dick and that was hobbling me more than any handcuffs could think of doing, it was like I was paralyzed.
And then he gave my cock a couple of slow jerks and that was something else entirely. I wasn't worried about when I was going to come, as I said before, and I tell you, I nearly came right then and there, his hand felt so good. Every stroke of his hand on my cock was like fifty I did on myself when masturbating, that's how fast the sensations on my cock turned into passion, just that quick I nearly came, and I sat there on his legs like a goofball and just let him pump my pud.
Then he stopped, holding onto me, and I looked down, saw and smelled the raunchy salt smell of my precome, which was pouring down onto his pants then, he wore black jeans well faded from washing, and when my clear jizz touched the pants, they made a dark, wet spot on him.
"Guh!" was my only comment when I saw the precome streamer break and fall off onto Bart and then I was fumbling again, fumbling at his crotch, and his other hand reached in and guided his cock upwards into my hand and it flopped out to slap against mine, cockhead against cockhead.
Bart's cock was long, fat and heavily curved, the head was a small sharp-nosed bell like the prow of a ship, and Bart pulled at my cock and my own, fat round glans slapped that small head again; the head of Bart's cock wasn't that much smaller than mine, just that his shaft was so much fatter than mine, it dwarfed his cockhead, made it seem smaller. I gave it a couple of pumps as well as I could and Bart groaned out, "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah!" and I saw a thick, fat globe of clear pre-jizz form on that sharp tip.
I wanted it on me and I leaned his cock over and this time I was deliberately touching our cocks together and I was pleased when I saw how the precome clung to my spongy glans and stretched out in a long, clear rope that joined us together. I smiled down as I saw the glistening, heavy strand between us, and then Bart jerked my cock again a few times and that broke the strand and in breaking, it galvanized me into action.
I rolled off of Bart entirely, but I wasn't running away, I was clearing the decks for action, I was pulling at my shoes, getting them off, then the pants, get my pants off, them and the briefs, tug them down and throw them on the grass; I wanted to be bare with Bart and I looked over and saw him doing the same. I left my socks on but Bart pulled his off one by one, neatly tucked them into his shoes like he did when we went swimming (I would just throw mine down on the sand) and then he was pushing his own pants down and I saw he hadn't been wearing any underwear. That surprised me, everyone wears underwear, he must not have put them on when we finished with gym that day.
He hadn't stood up like I had, so he was still fighting the jeans down when I was done and I knelt down, not feeling the least bit timid now, and I grabbed both pants legs by their hem and I pulled hard on them and he fell back against the tree trunk and I skinned him off of him, his legs high in the air when they finally came off him and then his legs fell back onto the grass and he was laughing, laughing easily, carefree, like we were the only two people in creation and the forbidden apple had never been tasted by either of us and we were like Adam and Eve, naked without any shame, and not the least bit ashamed of what we wanted to do with each other, either, because this was what we were made for.
I looked down at Bart, standing naked above him, him now only wearing his shirt which he hadn't taken off, and I saw that huge, proud, hard cock there, and I knew what I wanted to do next and I did, I knelt down onto one knee and bent over like that and I caught that massive pud in one hand and I guided it into my mouth.
Bart groaned when he felt my mouth on his cock, his cock twitched and I tasted the salty savory precome on his cockhead, and he scooted up until he was nearly sitting up and I followed him and caught that cock again and this time I wasn't letting go, I sent it plunging into my mouth and by sheer, brute force I crammed it down my throat as far as it would go.
I was a virgin and so was Bart, neither of us knew any better, I sucked him dry like that and he loved it and so did I. It felt right, the dry cock in my mouth, my job was to keep manipulating it for him with my mouth instead of my hand, and I did, I shoved it in deep and rough and I used my lips to pull that foreskin up when I let go of his shaft, and then shoved it in deep again. I didn't think of choking, even though I don't know now why I didn't, his cock was dry and clung to my throat lining like the foreskin was made of plastic wrap, it sort of sealed itself when it touched and clutched tight and only moved when I pulled it back out again, peeling off like paint from an old building, reluctantly but in a single piece.
But Bart didn't complain at all, he was moaning and his hips were hunching upwards at me as I sucked on him. When I began to tire (that at least, proved me a rank amateur, I was tired out in no time), he reached down and caught hold of my cock and jerked me again and I managed to find some more strength to wield on his dong in response to that.
But I tired yet again and Bart realized that, reached down and pulled me off his cock with both hands and lifted it up to look at me and he said, so kindly and generously, he said, "Take a break. My turn now."
I was glad to comply, I sat down on the grass and Bart rolled over onto his knees and sat up, he shucked that shirt to be as bare as I was, and he lay down between my legs and he scarfed down my pud.
His mouth was as dry as mine was, but like me, he didn't think or know any better, he was and felt good, damned good. It was nothing like fucking a woman and nothing like masturbating, it was something else entirely. There was the tight moist ring of his lips on my cock and there was the haphazard and sometimes painful contact with the interior of his mouth, and that was a blowjob for me, my very first and I wasn't feeling the least bit fussy or complaining, even when my glans kind of buckled as it hit the roof of his mouth, it was all a part of him doing this to me, and the fact it was him doing this to me was enough to outweigh any momentary discomfort.
His lips milked me, sending wave upon wave of pleasure up my backbone and I was groaning like a madman, totally unashamed and unwary of any peeping curiosity seekers that may have lurked in the bushes (but I never heard of anyone who saw us and you can't keep that a secret in a small town, we were alone then, I'm sure of that), I was lost, totally lost in my pleasure.
But Bart was as rank an amateur as I was, he got weary of it and he got up, wiped his lips with the back of his hand and said, "Shit, that takes practice."
"Yeah." I said. "But I don't care. Come on, lay down and we'll finish each other off." And my hand on his cock told him what I meant.
He lay down beside me and we kissed and we jerked each other's pricks. The sun was warm upon us, the wind was cooling and caressing, the tree's leaves made a gentle murmuring sound of peace and solitude, that and the annoyingly loud call of a bluejay cursing at us, or at another jay, most likely, that was how we did it then. My cock was in an agony of joy and yet I held if off, I wanted to wait for Bart, do it with him, do it to him. Bart was groaning into my mouth, and when he groaned a little louder, I began to do the same, kind of like warning him that I was about to come, and he caught the fire of the moment and he was moaning loudly into my mouth and so was I, and I don't think we missed coming together by more than a second or so. I only know that in that position, we were aimed at each other, I groaned and in the height of my climax, just as I jetted out my first wad, I felt his hot splash against my stomach, I squirted him and then he repaid me a dozen-fold, that second burst was a long one, heavy and hard, it splattered me from my neck to my navel in one long spray, and I think I did the same to him, the way my cock seemed to spurt out long and hard on that, and then I lost all track of which was what and to who, we were coming on each other, hard and heavy, the way only horny teenagers barely eighteen years old can do it, and I felt soaked, totally soaked, by him when we were done. I would have examined the damage, but then he clutched me tightly and I got soaked in new places by his body pressing against mine, and then it didn't matter much who had done what where, for we were bonded together by that moment, my jizz and his jizz, it was all over me and all over him, and it was a moment of communion with each other better than any wedding vow could possibly be. I felt a part of him then, and still do whenever I think of that spring day the first time we made love, joined in that moment of shared lust and slimy with our seed, and there was nothing disgusting about it, any more than the blood of childbirth is anything but beautiful and natural. Nature can be messy, really messy, you might as well be upset at a young child's dribble of snot hanging from its nose. That's just how things are; you clean up and go on about your life.
We didn't though, not right away. I didn't want to let go of Bart, I wanted us to hold onto that moment forever, and he let me keep kissing him and nuzzling him for quite a long time. Then he said, "Hey, Johnny, let's go get in some swimming before it gets too late."
"Okay." I said and got up. I dressed and then followed him again as we went downhill, only downhill this time, it was like flying and my heart was so light, it was up there among the birds, they had found their mates and I had found mine.
I hated to say good-bye to Bart, but his mother came down to the beach (they live quite near the water) and fetched him, and so I bicycled back up into town.
Dad was on the porch, talking with some friends of his. "Hey, Johnny!" He said to me.
"Hi, Dad." I said and greeted his friends by name, but I forget now who they were. I was too busy thinking of what I wanted to say next.
"You got your plans made for the prom this weekend yet?" Dad asked me.
"Yeah." I said. "I'm going with Bart."
"Oh." Dad looked disappointed. I knew he and Mom had made love for the first time on prom night, and married later that same summer. Small town, you learn everything about everyone.
"But I will need the cabin keys for that night." I said. "And Bart and I want to share the cabin this summer. Get used to living away from home."
"Sure, Son." Dad said and reached into his pocket. "Might as well give it to you right now."
I took the key, my heart burning as I grasped the small bit of hard, silver-colored metal. "Thanks, Dad." I said. "This is just what I need."
"Where were you?" he asked me. Not prying, he always asked where I'd been if I was late home from school.
I gave him a sly grin. "Picking apples."
"It's too early for apples."
"Yeah, I know. But I plan to do a lot of apple-picking this summer." I grinned a silly grin at Dad's fatuous smile, and went in to check on supper.
THE END
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WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM