Harper finished mowing the yard and was putting the lawn mower back into the barn when he looked up at the fishing rods and old cane poles hanging on the wall and decided he would go to their pond and fish for a while since he was complete with the work he had to do for the day. It only took a few minutes to get a drink, grab a small cooler with ice and a couple of cane poles and tackle and he was on his way. The pond was on the back of the property, behind the main field surrounding the house and barn, and he walked slowly along the lane that snaked over to the property line and made its way to the pond. It was a typically hot humid day, and gray clouds of gnats swarmed in the air. Harper's worn frayed t-shirt was wet with sweat under the arms and around the neck and his old faded jeans, busted out in the knees and severely frayed at the leg openings and even the part of the waist band, was also damp where sweat ran down his torso and soaked it. He knew sitting in the shade by the pond would be a welcome relief from the hot sun he had endured mowing the large yard around his home and the barn.

It would be only a little over a month and he was leaving for college and the excitement, and sometimes the anxiety, would rush him when he least expected it, but he couldn't wait, for the family farm struggled and his heart wasn't into farming. It was his younger brother who would probably attempt to keep it going, not him. He ambled along thinking about what was left to do before getting to the university and wondered what it would be like, especially to live in the dorm where he would be with guys his age or older, a situation so different than now where he had to share a room with a younger brother. As he walked along he heard a tractor in his neighbor's field and saw it running along in the distance, the sun glaring off the windows of the cab as it moved slowly along, cutting the grass, baling it in large round bales. The Anderson's had cows and therefore needed to bale hay on a regular basis. Harper couldn't make out who was running the tractor but thought it might be Timothy, his closest friend since grade school, and he waved at the tractor as he kept walking along the two rut lane.

*

Timothy had been baling hay since mid-morning when the sun had dried the morning dew off the grass. He had only the side field left, the one that sat adjacent to the McCullough's place. It was after lunch when he saw Harper walking along the fence line, down the narrow lane that led to the back of their property, carrying fishing gear. Although he had to focus on his task, he kept glancing up to see Harper's progress, and once he saw him wave, so he waved back not realizing Harper had no way of seeing him with the sun's glare on the windows of the cab. He was almost finished and made plans to go see if Harper was catching anything.

He found he was looking for any excuse to see Harper this summer, more than usual, for he knew come fall they would be separated for the first time since first grade when they got to know each other. He was going to miss Harper more than he could admit and realized things would never be the same once fall arrived and Harper left for college. Timothy was going to the university nearby in Pensacola, a little over an hour's drive so he was going to remain at home while attending, but Harper was going away, would live on campus in a dorm with other guys, and it made Timothy feel somewhat jealous.

When he had finally finished the small fifteen acre plot next to the McCullough's he disconnected from the baler and put the tractor in the barn. He grabbed a drink and headed over to the McCullough's place to see how Harper was doing at the pond. He cut across the field, hopped over the fence and headed down the lane.

*

Harper tried several of his favorite spots that had tree shade on the bank but no luck. He moved over to one end of the pond and sat down in the tall grass out in the open, the bright hot sun beating down on him and he cast his line into the water. He sat there for a long time, watching his taut line, waiting, patiently until his mind began to wander, to think of other things. The heat of the sun made him sweat and the warmth through his clothes, especially his jeans made his cock start to get erect. He tugged and pushed his cock through the worn jeans to get comfortable, to give it room to move, stretch out. He thought about how horny he was and how often he thought about having sex, of having someone suck his dick, the idea of someone wrapping their warm mouth over it, and he got more erect within his confined jeans. Having to share a bedroom with his younger brother made masturbating difficult. He didn't know how many times he had lain in his bed in the middle of night, slowly stroking his cock, holding his breath, afraid of waking his brother. He had several places he knew he could get alone; the back room in the barn where they stored small tools, the small patch of woods along the east side of the property and the fish pond, if he could get to it alone. Today his brother was at a friend's house so he knew he was safe, and he was so horny, his desire to get off making him completely forget about whether or not he was getting any nibbles on his line. He pulled his t-shirt off and laid it on the ground behind him. He lay back and unfastened his jeans, running his hand down inside his briefs, feeling his erection, running his hand over its length, feeling how hard he was already. He raised his hips and pushed his jeans and briefs down below his crotch, letting the hot sun hit his exposed body, let the feel of the warmth bring new sensations to his already hard cock. Sweat ran down his chest, pooled in his navel, and he ran his right hand over his chest and stomach, smearing dirt and sweat, feeling the hot slickness of his skin. He wrapped his sweaty hand over his cock, stroking it lightly, running his fingers over the sensitive head, stroking the shaft, feeling the skin shift and move slightly over the hard shaft. His used his left hand to rub over his chest, to excite his skin, to bring him up higher in his need, and he pinched one nipple, having found the pain really hit him hard in the cock, would make it flex up and down if he pinched down hard enough. He ran his left hand down over his stomach as his right moved up and down his cock, and he went further with his left, moving over his balls, tugging on them, feeling the loose sac tighten in his grip, his balls pushed down together, an angry red color. Then he did something he had done only a few times before, daringly, he pushed down with his left hand, down below his balls, down along his sweaty crack and he touched himself there, rubbed a finger over that forbidden place, felt its texture, the way the skin wrinkled around the opening, and he pushed in, penetrated himself as he right hand moved faster over his cock.

*

Timothy walked down the slope toward the pond and cut through a few old pine as he made his way down to the pond, scanning its banks for Harper. He started to call out, yell out Harper's name, but for some reason he didn't, he just eased along, looking for Harper along the bank. He was moving over the final grade break that led down to the pond's edge when he saw movement to his right, the shift of something in the grass and he froze, looking for what caught his eye. He moved quietly around the pond until he could make out what he was seeing and realized it was Harper, lying on his back, his shirt off and his pants pushed down. Timothy froze, his heart racing as he saw Harper lying there naked, and he realized he was masturbating, stroking his cock, and Timothy squatted down and moved forward to get a better look, so he could see how big Harper's cock was when he was erect, to see him stroke it, to make it shoot. He'd wanted so many times to suggest they jack off together, to come up with some game like who could shoot the furthest or the most, but he never had the guts to go through with it, to make the suggestion, for fear it would be obvious what he really wanted; what he really desired. He moved down close enough to make out Harper through the tall grass, to see his lightly tanned body and the stark white contrasting skin around his hips. Close enough to see the cock he was holding, the cock he was moving his right hand up and down, and he saw how Harper's left hand was between his legs, under his balls, working back and forth, and he knew what Harper was doing, where he had one...or more...fingers and he felt his own cock begin to move in his jeans, to shift over, to stretch out, begin to get erect. He felt his heart rate accelerate, and he felt the sweat run out of his hair and down his face as he sat barely breathing, watching Harper finger his own ass and stroke his own cock.

Timothy eased down on his knees, quietly, watching Harper, listening to the sounds he made as he stroked his cock and he watched as Harper stopped stroking his cock for a moment so he could push his jeans down further, letting him spread his legs, bringing his feet up close to his ass. Harper laid back, knees up slightly, his hard cock back in his right hand, the hard thick shaft filling his hand as it moved up and down. Timothy watched intently as he used his own right hand to undo his jeans, ease the zipper down and push them down. He gave no thought to what would happen if someone came up and caught them, he more so than Harper as he sat there on his knees, jeans down to mid-thigh, his briefs obscenely tented out. He ran his hand down inside his briefs; hesitate to push them down, as he ran his fingers along his own growing erection. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, felt its hardness within his grasp, and he began to stroke it, to move his hand along its length as his eyes stayed glued to Harper, watched his every move, each stroke of his hand, and the way his left hand moved down there, the shifting of his hand, back and forth, pumping his finger (or fingers?) into his own hole, fucking it as he stroked his cock. Timothy pushed his briefs down with his left hand as his right hand kept moving, back and forth along the shaft of his own cock. He ran his hand over the head, rubbing around its soft spongy surface, feeling the flared head wet and slick, and he moved back to the shaft. He watched Harper's right hand move faster and faster until it was a blur, stroking so hard and so fast he could hear the slick sweaty hand movement, and he could hear the low grunting sounds Harper was making. His eyes focused on Harper's masculine body, and to his manipulations of his own sex, and Timothy eased his left hand behind him, ran it over the cheek of his ass, rubbed down the sweaty cleft between his cheeks and he wondered what it would feel like, the penetration, the need to feel something inside you, as his fingers ran along his ass, moving down, getting closer to that place, and he stroked harder on his own cock. His fingers grazed over his hole, rubbed over its tightness and he felt the sensation race up his spine. He rubbed harder, pushed against its resistance, felt the tightness on the tip of his finger, and he began to rock his hips, slowly, back and forth. He saw Harper raise his hips, pump them up and down a little, and he knew he was close, real close, and Timothy did it, he ease his index finger in, breached his own hole, pushed in slowly, feeling the tightness lessen, his ass accept the penetration, as he stroked his cock harder for the sensation of penetration added to his need to shoot, pushed him close and he forgot about how his hand might sound to Harper if he was not so lost in his own desires for release.

Harper grunted loudly, his head fell back and his hips thrust upward. Timothy could see how his body was tensed up, even the veins and muscle in his neck were protruded out, his chest and stomach had every muscle visible, and his skin was shiny and wet with sweat. Timothy felt his cock about to shoot when he saw it; saw the cum fly out of Harper's cock, thick white wads arcing out and landing back on Harper. He saw how the last of Harper's load milked up to the head of his cock, ran down and was smeared by the slowing hand moving along the shaft and he came. He held his breath, eyes and mouth closed tight, as his own cock shot, splashing cum out on the ground in front of him. He stroked his cock through each flexing shot, thrust his hips forward each time a wad shot out, until he was spent, and he fell forward on his hands, breathing hard. He stayed leaning over only for a moment when a panic swept over him and he looked up quickly and saw Harper was just laying there, eyes closed, as if he was asleep. Timothy eased back on his ass and pulled his jeans and briefs up. He eased back on his feet and moved backwards, slowly, quietly, so afraid Harper would suddenly open his eyes and look his way his heart was racing in his chest. But after a few minutes he was able to relax and move a little faster and he soon was far enough back he could move at a normal pace, standing up straight and he continued on back to his home, not wanting to disturb Harper after he had just gotten off. All the way back the image of Harper's body, lying in the tall grass kept flashing through his mind, the way he had stroked his cock and the way he had fingered himself. Before he got home he'd have another erection.

*

Harper lay there, the cum on his chest and stomach turning runny and sliding over his sweat slick skin as the sun beat down on his nakedness. It felt good, the warm sun and the way it felt on his cock and balls but he suddenly thought about where he was, out in the open and he pulled his jeans up and went down to the water's edge and rinsed off his hands and washed off the cum as best he could. He used his t-shirt to dry off and then slide it back on, knowing the hot sun was too much for his skin. He gathered his gear up and headed back to his house. As he walked along the lane he saw the Anderson's had finished the field and were gone and it made him think he wanted to see what Timothy was up to and if he wanted to ride into town, maybe grab a burger or something.

Once inside his home he called the Anderson's place, and got Timothy on the phone who quickly agreed to ride into town. Harper went upstairs to his room and stripped out of his dirty clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower and clean up. With a clean shirt and jeans on he headed out the door, jumped into his old CJ Jeep sitting in the carport and headed to the Anderson's place to pick up Timothy.

They drove to town and hit the old drive-in that has served the town since the late 1960's and while eating ran into several friends. It was a Wednesday night but some were going to someone's house to hang out, so Harper and Timothy found themselves at a party. It remained low key except everyone, even those underage were drinking. It was getting late when Harper nudged Timothy and told him he was ready to leave. The night was still warm with no breeze. Harper started up his CJ as Timothy climbed in and buckled up. They drove slowly through the empty streets of town and were soon back in the rural countryside driving along the undulating two lane highway running between fields and pine tree stands. They were only ten minutes or so from getting home when Timothy turned in his seat.

"Harper! Pull over; I've got to piss in the worst way."

"Can't you wait?"

"I thought I could but I've really got to go. Just pull over to the side of road will ya?"

Harper slowed and eased the CJ onto the shoulder and came to a stop. Timothy, climbed out, staggering slightly, a little drunker than Harper realized, and he fumbled around trying to get his fly undone.

"Shit, I can't get the zipper down. Turn on a light will ya?" Timothy stated, his words slightly slurred. Harper flipped the overhead light on the roll bar and watched as Timothy tried to find the pull on the zipper.

"Fuck, it's turned up where I can't get to it" and Timothy unbuckled his belt, unfastened them and then zipped them down. In the light Harper watched, surprised at how Timothy, who normally never would let anyone see him piss, unabashedly pushed his briefs down below his balls and held his dick hang out, letting the stream flow onto the ground. Harper watched, noticed how Timothy held his dick, noticed how it was so similar to his own in shape but it was darker skinned than the rest of him. He watched and suddenly felt self conscious about it and he turned out the light and just listened to the sound of Timothy finishing up and then buckling up. For the remainder of the trip Harper thought about seeing Timothy's dick, the way it looked and how he had held it and how the urine flowed from the head and he wondered what it would look like hard, would it get as large as his own, or would it get larger and he wondered what Timothy liked to do and how often he took it in hand, like he did all the time, like he did that afternoon, when he jerked off by the pond.

For the next few days Harper was busy on doing some work on his family's farm, but he wondered what Timothy was doing, and he thought about how he had looked with his pants pushed down and his dick exposed, the dark skinned shaft and the lighter spongy head held between his fingers, and he let his mind wander, considering what it would be like to touch another guy's dick, to feel it get hard and he wondered what it would be like to touch Timothy's dick and to feel his nuts in their loose sac and he wondered what it would be like to feel Timothy touch him that way, or maybe in other ways.

*

Timothy had woke up on Thursday morning with a hangover, not being one to drink very much during their high school parties when someone was able to get alcohol. He struggled through his chores and that night he crashed early. The next couple of days he wondered how Harper was doing with the jobs he had to get completed, but more often than not he thought about seeing Harper by the pond on Wednesday, lying in the grass naked, stroking his hard cock until he came, and he would think about it till it frustrated him, consumed his waking thoughts, even at times causing him to fuck up some work he was doing and have to do it over.

Sunday afternoon his family had left after church to go visit relatives down in Mobile and wouldn't be back till late. Timothy had begged off, saying he'd water and feed the cows, which he knew wouldn't take long and would give him the rest of the day to himself. He was going to call Harper, or ride his bike, but he remembered he needed to change the oil and filter in his old pickup. He knew it wouldn't take long and he could call Harper when he finished and got cleaned up. He pulled the old truck into the barn and up on the small ramps. He soon was under it with the plug screwed out and the dark oil draining into a pan. After a few minutes he had the plug put back and a new filter on the engine and fresh oil poured in. During the whole process he kept thinking about Harper, about seeing his naked body, his hard cock and the way it spewed cum after he had jerked off and he felt his own cock thickened up and stretch out in his jeans. He tugged on his crotch, feeling horny, and without thinking twice about it he undid his jeans and pushed them down with his briefs, feeling the warm air on his exposed cock and balls, and saw how his cock sprang up from his crotch, getting hard already. 'Fuck it' he thought and he went over to the side room where some hay was stored for immediate feeding of the cows and he pulled his shirt off and tossed it over the gate to the room, and in the room he pushed his jeans and briefs down and dropped down on the soft hay, feeling it against his bare flesh, and he began to stroke his cock, watching it fill out, swell up, and he thought about how Harper's cock looked and what it might be like to touch him, to feel his hard cock, to hold it in his hand as he held his own, his hand moving up and down the shaft.

*

Harper finished lunch with his family and decided to wash his CJ, then he got his bike out to make some calibrations to the brakes and gears and he cleaned it up too. When he finished he decided to ride over to the McCullough's and see what Timothy was up to this afternoon, having not seen him since Wednesday night. Whenever he thought of that night he invariably thought of Timothy holding his cock when he was relieving himself on the side of the road. Thought of the way it looked, the loose skin covering the flaccid shaft and the exposed head and the way it was shaped, with a slight arrowhead shape.

The thoughts disturbed him and made him feel strange, but he couldn't stop himself. He'd never really paid attention to other guys in the showers after gym class in high school, but now it seemed different. He shook the images from his mind and went in to change in more comfortable clothing for bike riding. Soon he was pedaling down the drive in shorts and tank top with his helmet on his head and sports sandals on his feet. He rode over to the McCullough place and as he rounded the drive to the rear of their house he saw the family car was gone. He stopped wondering if the whole family had gone when he spotted the back of Timothy's truck in the barn, the raised hood visible through the windshield, so he knew Timothy had to be in the barn. He leaned his bike next to a tree and walked out to the barn. He didn't think to call out, lost to his thoughts and when he entered noticed right away Timothy was not at the truck but his t-shirt hung over a gate to the ground level storeroom for hay and he walked over toward the room. The gate was swung open slightly and as he approached he saw a little of Timothy's chest and as he got closer he realized he could see just below Timothy's neck down to his knees and he was naked, his fair skin shiny from sweat with stray pieces of hay stuck to it, and Timothy was stroking his cock. It was gripped tightly in his fist, and Harper watched as the fist traveled up and down its length. The shaft glistened in the dim light, wet and slick, and Harper could just hear the sound of Timothy's fist moving over the shaft. Timothy's legs were sticking straight out, stiff, the muscle pumped up tense below the fair skin. The light dusting of hair nearly invisible it being so light brown in color and his jeans and boxers were just visible, bunched around his legs. Harper was frozen in place, watching, unable to turn away, wanting to watch, see Timothy's hand move up and down his cock, watch the swelled spongy head pop into view and disappear with each stroke of the hand. Timothy's other hand moved up on his chest and rubbed over his skin, moving over each nipple and down over his stomach as it moved up and down. The hand moved down further and grabbed his own balls, tugging them tight in their sac as he held his fist still a moment, squeezing his shaft, making the head flare out more. Pre-cum bubbled up out of the head and drooled down to the fist holding it tightly and Harper watched, intently, feeling his own cock respond, confused by his reaction, feeling he shouldn't be so turned on by watching Timothy, but it was different somehow, not like in the shower room in high school after a game and some of the guys were doing it on a dare, to see who would cum first. This was different. It was Timothy, and it made Harper feel excited, anxious and confused about his own feelings. He tugged on his cock through his shorts, feeling it get hard as he watched Timothy began to stroke his cock harder, slamming his fist down, and he watched as Timothy's other hand moved down between his thighs, down below his balls and Harper knew what he was doing, knew the feel of it, the feel of fingers over that place, down there, where you weren't suppose to touch. But he had and now he watched Timothy's hand move down there, saw how his hand moved, the index finger's upper section, visible, as it moved back and forth, and Harper knew the end of that finger was penetrating his hole, pushing into it and he saw how Timothy's hips rose up, his torso so tightened up, the muscles clearly defined beneath the skin and the breaking of the silence with grunts coming from Timothy, and Harper knew he was about to shoot his load.

Timothy keep stroking hard, his hips pumping up and down slightly, his upper body pushing back hard against the hay in which it lay, and Harper watched intently, watched as the blurred hand revealed the flared head of Timothy's cock as it swelled up and shot. Ropes of thick white cum shot out over Timothy's chest; one line over his right nipple and up to his collar bone and the second right up the middle of his chest and appeared to go as far as his neck. The remaining cum came out in smaller wads, spattering over his stomach and smearing down his cock by his still moving hand as it slowed to a slow softening stroke. Timothy's body relaxed back down as his hand squeezed up his shaft, squeezed out the last of his load, brought it to the head where it bubbled up in a little ball and Harper watched as Timothy wiped it off with his finger and brought his hand toward his head and Harper realized he was going to lick it off and he sucked in his breath hard, thinking about what it would taste like, to eat your own cum. Then he wondered what Timothy's cum would taste like, and the thoughts clouded his mind, the idea of eating cum, of touching Timothy, touching his cock, of taking it in his own hand...or taking it in his mouth...or...

Harper suddenly realized what he was doing, standing there looking at his best friend's body through the door, watching the cum run down runny over his chest and stomach and he realized he had to get out. He eased back and quickly got out of the barn, raced to his bike and took off as fast as he could, not wanting Timothy to know he was there.

*

Timothy lay there, running his fingers through the cooling pools of cum, smearing them over his skin, feeling the slick cum coat his fingers and he brought them to his mouth once again, licking the cum off, tasting the odd saltiness of it, not turned off by it, and he thought of how it felt when his finger breached his hole and how the sensation made him want to cum harder, to feel his cock shoot and how it felt on his finger that was speared up his hole, the spasms of his hole as he came and how it felt to keep pumping his finger through his opening as each wad of cum shot out. He was getting hard again, thinking about it and thinking about how he first saw Harper doing it, fingering his own hole and pumping his cock, and he now knew what it felt like and he wondered what it would feel like to push more fingers in his hole, to stretch it more, and he wondered what it would be like to let a guy put his cock into him, to push a cock into his hole; have it penetrate deep into him and he pictured it in his mind, the body of a guy on top of him, pumping cock into his hole and he pictured what it would look like, his legs spread out with the guy between them, his ass rising and falling with each thrust of his cock and his image of the guy shifted and moved up to his face and he pictured it being Harper, of it being Harper fucking him, taking him, and he felt his hole stretch as he unconsciously penetrated it with two fingers as his other hand stroked his cock, still wet and slick from his first load. He could smell his cum, hear the slick noise of his hand stroking his shaft, it hard again. So quickly he was up and leaking again as he pumped his cock and he pulled his two fingers out and pushed back in with three, feeling the tightness of his hole as it resisted penetration, feeling how a slight pain raced through him, then the relaxing of his hole and his fingers sliding in, pushed in as far as he could go, and he began to moved them back and forth, feeling how it turned him on even more. He flipped over on his knees and put his shoulders on the rough wood floor, his face in the loose hay, the smell strong in his nose as he pushed four fingers into his hole, the pain a little sharper, the tightness more persistent, and he stroked his cock hard as his hole slowly accepted his four fingers, his hole opening up and he wished Harper was here, was here to move between his legs and put his cock where his fingers were buried. He shot quickly, not nearly as much as before, but the intense sensation was greater as his cum hit the floor underneath him. When he was finally and thoroughly spent he fell over on his side, breathing hard, his body covered in sweat and dirt and pieces of hay.

He lay there for a moment while his breathing returned to normal and smeared his cum on the floor till it was a thin film, drying quickly. He eased out of the barn and hosed off the cum, the worst of the dirt and the loose hay before putting his jeans and boxers back on. He finished with his truck and made his way inside to shower and put on clean clothes. Maybe he'd call Harper and see if he wanted to come over and play video games.

*

Harper rode his bike hard, pedaling nearly a constant rhythm over the undulating two lane roads cutting through the countryside. He kept his head down and pedaled as his mind tried to make sense of his feelings and the desires he felt. It wasn't what he thought he wanted, wasn't who he was, but they kept coming back, the images, the sight of Timothy's body through the doorway, this hand pumping his cock, the cum flying out of the end of it and finally Timothy's hand, smeared with cum and holding a bubble of it on his finger as it moved up toward his head and the thoughts continue, a longing, a desire for it to have been him the fingers were going toward, the want to put Timothy in his mouth, to taste his flesh, to eat his cum.

By the time he got back to his home he had exerted himself to the point of total exhaustion, sweat drenched his shirt and shorts. He went straight to his room and got clean clothes and started for the bathroom. He saw a message from Timothy on his phone which was lying on his desk where he had left it. He'd check it later he thought as he headed to the bathroom. He pulled the sweaty shirt up and over his head, the smell of it strong, and tossed it in the hamper. He pulled his shorts down and then he pulled his briefs out from his crotch and looked down at the way his cock had been leaking, the way his briefs were soaked with sweat and at his cock his pre-cum. He looked at the mess he'd made and took a deep breath, knowing what it meant, these thoughts, these desires, as they fueled his lusts and his wants. He pushed them down and stepped out of them and got in the shower, letting the warm water cascade down his fatigued body, relaxing the muscles and washing away the sweat and dirt. He stood with his head held under the spray a long time before he finally finished and got out.

Once he was dressed he lay on his bed and called Timothy.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Timothy's voice broke through the phone when he had picked it up.

"Just lying on the bed resting a moment; what's up?"

"My folks are away till late; they've gone down to Mobile, and I thought we could hang out and play games, or something."

"Yeah we can do that" Harper replied, as that feeling inside his gut formed again. "What time do you want me to come over?"

"Whenever you want. I'm going to fix a sandwich for dinner and just chill out for the rest of the day."

"Well mom was going to warm up leftovers for dinner so I'll just eat here and come over afterwards. She'll probably have it ready by six at the latest so I should be there no later than seven."

"See you then" Timothy replied.

*

Timothy pulled out his gaming equipment and set it up for two. He pulled his favorite game out and loaded it up preparing everything for the two of them. Then he went to make a sandwich. He couldn't wait for Harper to come over, to hang out with him, working their way through the game trying not to get killed, backing each other up. He flipped on the TV and watched some rerun while he ate, waiting for Harper to get there. Just before seven he heard Harper's Jeep pull around the house to the back, and a few minutes later Harper came in. Harper was wearing old baggy gym shorts that hung below his knees and a muscle shirt, revealing his strong upper arms. Timothy gave Harper a head to toe look, trying to actual casual about it, but unable to stop himself. He looked at how the tight shirt fit over his chest and narrow stomach and he looked at how the baggy shorts hung from his waist and how he thought he could see the bulge of his cock in the folds of the fabric and when he moved, it seemed to swing freely within. He made himself look away and head into the kitchen. It was dumb he thought for he had seen Harper dressed like this so many times. But now it seemed different.

"What do you want to drink? Coke or Tea?"

"Coke."

Drinks in hand they went upstairs to Timothy's room where he had the game set up on his TV. Harper sat on the floor on the rug, leaning back on the bed and Timothy fell across the bed, his feet up at the head on the far side and his head at the foot on the near side, leaning up next to where Harper was positioned. They played for nearly an hour, pushing through one level then the next, joking around and talking about the game and others they should try out. When Harper, then Timothy, got caught in a trap and killed off, Timothy paused the game.

"I have to pee."

"Me too, so hurry up" Harper replied as he was getting up off the floor.

Back in Timothy's room Harper dropped back on the floor but Timothy sat on his bed next to Harper and as the game reset he looked down at Harper, at the way his hair, cut real short, stood up on top of his head, and he noticed the swirl pattern that began at the back of his head on top and he noticed how his hair line stopped in a neat line around his neck, and he noticed his ears, the way they stuck out some, and he noticed how Harper needed to shave, his beard coming thick along his jaw line and over his chin and he looked down Harper's chest, the way the shirt fit snug to his body, showing the form of his chest, his pecs clearly defined and how his torso narrowed at his waist and the shirt clung tightly around his waist, making his shorts seem even more baggy, and he saw the bulge, and saw how he could tell Harper's cock was lying to the left and it made his heart race and suddenly hard to breathe.

*

Harper watched as the game reset and they started their play, all the time extremely conscious of Timothy's legs positioned right by him, the long slim legs with their light sparse hair that he could see plainly now with them so close. As they played, Timothy shifted bodily, trying to make his character on screen move faster and his legs brushed against Harper's arm and he felt the warm flesh as it made contact, felt the way his leg moved slightly away, just enough to break contact, but the hair still lightly touching his arm, tickling the surface and making his lose concentration.

"Damn dude, what the fuck was that move?" Timothy asked as he watched Harper's character get taken out.

"Nothing; reset the game."

They began again and every time Timothy's leg touched him on the arm he had to refocus his concentration. They got to a tough section in the game, one they had failed to get through time and time again, and Timothy shifted down on the floor next to Harper. Harper felt Timothy's presence, felt him brush against him as he shifted around, moving in ways he wanted his screen character to move. Harper couldn't help it, he wanted the contact, to feel his warm skin touch him, and he shifted his left leg over, bumping against Timothy's, feeling their flesh contact. Timothy kept pushing, trying to get this character to move faster, a little further, and he kept bumping Harper until Harper messed up and went down again.

"Man, you suck tonight" Timothy said, his tone mocking.

"Fuck you...you keep bumping into me making me mess up."

"Oh, so it's my fault" and he playfully nudged against Harper, shoulder to shoulder.

"Hey, watch it...asshole" trying to stifle a laugh, letting the rowdy moment carry him along.

"Who you calling an asshole...asshole" Timothy dragging the last 'asshole' out with his southern accent as he tossed his console down and pushed Harper over on the floor, getting on top of him.

"Oh no you don't" Harper replied as he flipped Timothy over on his back and dropped on top of him. They wrestled around, trying to pin the other down, laughing and calling each other names and telling the other how they were going to take them. They rolled on the floor, fighting for dominance until Harper had Timothy on his back and his arms pushed up and held down as he shifted his body directly on top of Timothy, chest to chest, crotch to crotch. They were both breathing hard and actually starting to sweat a little from their hair. Timothy tried to shift out from under Harper, but Harper held him tightly, letting his full weight rest on Timothy. He liked the feel of their bodies in full contact, the way Timothy's lean body fit underneath him and the way he could feel Timothy's cock under his own. He shifted is weight, moved his legs until they were between Timothy's legs and he settled down on him.

"You give?" Harper whispered.

*

Timothy had wanted so bad to touch Harper, to feel his hand touch him in a way he didn't think was possible. He had kept bumping into Harper, knowing it distracted him, but it also brought sensations of touch burning through his skin, inflamed his desires and he kept it up. Moving down on the floor he knew could lead to wrestling around, for it had in the past, but this time it was different, how quickly they ended up lying still on the floor, Harper on top of him, shifting his legs around until he was between his legs, Harper's cock pushing down into his crotch, Harper's arms spread over his head holding his arms down, the strong masculine scent of his perspiring body over him and Harper looking down at him, face to face, real close.

Timothy watched as a bead of sweat trailed out of Harper's hair, ran down the side of his face, down by his eye and dripped down on his own cheek. The warm liquid felt good, and he shifted his eyes to Harper's eyes, blue eyes looking at green, as their breathing was still heavy and Harper's grasp seem to loosen up.

"I give" Timothy whispered, barely audible. Then he did it, took a chance, letting is desire over ride his fear. He leaned up and kissed Harper on the lips. A quick simple kiss, but he saw the look in Harper's face; first shock as he pulled back, then the change in his facial features, the slow creeping smile that spread over his face.

"You queer now?"

Timothy stared at Harper, defiantly, as another bead of sweat ran down Harper's face and dripped down on him, hitting his upper lip. He licked it off; then replied.

"Maybe."

Timothy's response surprised Harper, made him pull up, eyes wide open as he tried to figure out if he was joking. Timothy lay there pinned under Harper, waiting for what seemed like an eternity, waiting to see how he would respond. Harper's facial features relaxed and he leaned forward a little closer.

"Have you ever...done anything with a guy before?" he asked Timothy, his voice nervous.

"No."

Timothy looked at Harper, saw him swallow hard, and he wondered what he was thinking, then he saw Harper move one arm down, felt it slide down his side, lightly touching him, like he was afraid too. Then he felt Harper shift on top of him, felt Harper's hand moved between them, Harper's fingers groping around between them till they touch his cock, moved over it, feeling the shape of it, tracing its outline through the fabric of his shorts. He felt the hand slide up under his shirt, run over his stomach, the warm touch making him breath in hard. Harper kept his eyes on him, staring him in the face, watching the change in his expression. Timothy felt the hand move back down, but below his waist band, slip down inside his shorts, down under his boxers, touching his skin, moving through his pubic hair, fingers raking through it as they moved to his cock, slid along its length were it was stretched out to the side and Timothy pushed up against Harper's hand, responding to the touch.

"You're hard" Harper stated.

"You are too" Timothy replied, feeling Harper's cock on his hip, pushing against him. Harper's hand gripped his cock, squeezed it slightly, and then tried to stroke it but there wasn't enough room in his shorts. Timothy felt they were at an impasse, a point where Harper seemed unsure of what he should do, the look on his face having a worried look. He reached down, Harper no longing holding his arms down, and moved one hand down onto Harper's back, ran it down over the curve of his back, feeling his shoulder blade shift under his touch, then the curve downward and the rise of his ass in the gym shorts. Harper's grasp of his cock tightened as Timothy ran his hand over Harper's ass, squeezed his cheek, then he moved back to the waist band and moved underneath the shorts, under the boxers he wore and over his smooth firm cheek. He ran his hand over it, feeling it flex when he pulled it down pulling their bodies together, letting him feel Harper's hard cock trapped between them.

Then he felt Harper remove his hand and for a moment he thought he had pushed too far, but then he felt his shorts being undone, the button slipped open, the zipper being pulled down, and as Harper pushed Timothy's shorts and boxers down he leaned down and pressed his lips to Timothy's, softly, gently, he kissed Timothy. Timothy raised his hips up, making it easier to get his shorts down, and when Harper got them half way down his thighs he took the freed cock in hand and stroked it, moved his hand up and down its length, and Timothy thought briefly of watching Harper masturbate down by the pond and how he moved his hand along his own cock and now he felt that same sensation on his own cock and he wrapped his other arm around Harper's neck and pulled his mouth tightly to his own. Harper's hand moved over his shaft, stroking him to even greater hardness. Timothy's hips began to move with the hand, slight movements up and down, working with the sensation of it on his cock.

Harper suddenly stopped, shifted up into a sitting position and pulled down on Timothy's shorts, pulled them down his legs and off. Timothy took his own shirt by the tail and pulled it over his head and off. He lay there naked, his cock hard and arcing up over his stomach, waiting to see what Harper wanted. Harper took his cock, held it up and leaned down looking at it. He moved closer and closer until he was only inches away. He looked up at Timothy, a pleading look in his eyes.

"Please..." Timothy said; his voice as pleading as Harper's eyes.

Harper leaned over and stuck out his tongue, touching it to Timothy's cock, touching the spongy head, running his tongue over it, then shifting his head he let Timothy slide into his mouth. Timothy grabbed Harper's arm as he stretched out on his back, arcing his hips upward, pushing his cock into the warm wet mouth that held his cock.

*

Harper couldn't believe he was lying on the floor sucking Timothy's cock, taking it in his mouth, feeling it slide over his tongue and push to his throat. He didn't feel different, didn't think it gross or dirty, but felt it was somehow right, something special between Timothy and him. He worked his head up and down the hard shaft feeling the soft spongy head move over his tongue. He ran one hand over Timothy's legs, ran it up to his balls, rubbing over them, feeling the orbs move in their sac. Timothy's legs parted, spread out, as he brought his feet up close to his ass and let his knees spread out, giving Harper full access to do what he wanted. Harper wanted to touch him down there, to run his fingers down under his balls, to feel it, to touch it, feel its resistance, wondering if was as tight as his own, if he could work his fingers into it, or maybe work his cock into it. Harper sucked up along the hard cock as he moved his fingers down to see if Timothy would let him do it, let him touch him there. When his finger grazed over it, slide over the wrinkled skin of Timothy's opening he felt Timothy's legs spread a little more and his hips push up, shoving cock into his mouth in a way that excited him, the way it thrust through his lips. Harper rubbed the opening, tested it tightness and then he did it, pushed against it until his finger breached him, penetrated his hole, feeling the tight ring of his hole grip his finger tightly before it slide through into Timothy's soft warm insides. Timothy pumped his hips, working his hole over Harper's finger and his cock into Harper's mouth. Harper kept it up, sucking on the cock in his mouth and working one, then two and finally three fingers into Timothy's ass, stretching him open, hearing his grunts, feeling the tightness, feeling his body shiver as the third finger penetrated his hole and worked their way into his depths.

"Oh, fuck me, Harper, put it in me...fuck me" Timothy cried out, not thinking about whether it made him queer or less a man to want it, to want Harper to put his cock into him, to fuck him.

Harper came up off his cock and sat up, looking at Timothy's naked body, looked at how his skin shined in the light, how he could smell his scent, and he looked up at Timothy seeing him lean his head up, waiting for his response.

"You sure?"

Timothy just nodded and Harper sat up and pulled his shirt off, then tugged down his shorts and boxers, freeing his hard cock, letting it slap up against his stomach. Harper moved around and sat by the bed, leaning back against it.

"Come here" he asked Timothy, his voice flat, unsure of itself. He watched Timothy get up, his cock wet and hard, as he moved to Harper, stepped over his legs and faced him, eased down, squatting over his lap, feeling Harper's cock touch him, felt it snuggle up to his ass and he rubbed his ass along its hard shaft, rocking it back and forth, letting it slide over his opening, feeling it massage it, rub it till he wanted it, wanted Harper's cock, wanted it to penetrate him, push up into his insides. Harper kept his hands on Timothy's waist, guiding him, holding him steady as his body moved over his own cock. Then he saw Timothy shift, his hand reach around behind his body and picked up Harper's cock, held the hard thick shaft up, letting his ass rub the head, smearing the pre-cum over it. Timothy moved his hips, moved them around, letting the head of Harper's cock rub over his hole, push against it, then he settled his ass into position, Harper's cock tight against his hole. Timothy eased down, let his weight drive his body down as his hole opened up, letting Harper's cock penetrate. The thick shaft slid in as Timothy eased down, slowly, taking it little by little, letting it stretch him open, slide into him. Harper watched his cock disappear, watched as Timothy's body eased down, watched how the muscles in his stomach strained against moving too fast, as Timothy threw his head back as he moved down past the half way point and slide all the way down, the ring of his opening giving way, stretching out, accepting finally of the cock penetrating it. Timothy hugged Harper around the neck as Harper held his waist, feeling how his skin was hot to the touch.

"Oh fuck" Timothy whispered in Harper's ear as he began to pull up, to ease his ass back up Harper's cock, feeling it slide through his opening. He pulled up a little and eased back down, up and back down, over and over and over, getting a little faster each time, moving a little further, rising up higher, dropping down harder, riding Harper's cock, letting him feel his tight hole grip the shaft, milk it as Timothy worked his body up and down. Harper couldn't believe the way it felt on his cock, the way Timothy's body took him, worked up and down his cock, for it was better than his hand, it was better than the girls he had fucked, for it played to his deepest fantasies. Timothy rode him harder and harder, building up his pace, until he was sweating and Harper could see fatigue was setting in, making Timothy slow down, and he wrapped his arms around Timothy and hugged him tightly, rolling over on the floor, bringing his body on top, pinning Timothy to the floor, his cock still buried in Timothy's hole. Soon he was in position, his hips moving, swinging in that primitive way, driving his cock into the hole below him, thrusting in hard, pulling out, and pushing in again and again and again. He felt Timothy hold on to him, felt his hands roam over his back, down his sides and over his ass as he swung it upward and drove it back down, pounding his cock into Timothy, driving it all the way in till his hips slapped up against Timothy's ass. Harper leaned down, put his lips to Timothy's lips, kissing him passionately, roughly, then he moved to his neck, his ear, running his lips over Timothy's skin, taking small nips at it, as his hips kept up their movement, kept working his cock into Timothy, back and forth through his tight hole. He was close, needed to drive his cock harder, to cum. He leaned up on his knees, took Timothy's legs behind the knees and folded him over, raising his ass upwards, spreading him open further and he leaned into him, thrusting harder and harder, shoving his cock into the hole he had stretched open with his cock, felt it slacken its grip as he hammered away at it till he felt the final sensations, the need that tightened his body, made his muscles tense, and he felt his cock as it swelled up more, felt like his whole world for a moment as it spewed into Timothy, shooting wads of cum into his depths, as it worked back and forth through Timothy's warm soft insides, slicking them up, coating them with his load. He let go of Timothy's legs and eased down on top of him as he pumped the last of his load out, working it into Timothy, feeling it cool his hot cock as it began to lose its stiffness. When he fell still he felt Timothy wrap his arms around him again, nuzzled his mouth over his neck and ear, his warm breath caressed his skin.

"Thanks, Harper" Timothy whispered.

Harper rolled up on his knees and scooted over to the bed, resting his chest on the mattress, looking back at Timothy, his legs spread open, his ass exposed to Timothy.

"Ok, Timothy, do me now."

 

Grant

[email protected]

Top


Rate Story Choose rating between 1 (worst) and 10 (best).

Bookmark and Share

blog comments powered by Disqus