John & Bruce

John was under his pickup, getting the plug back in the oil pan after draining it of the black used oil, when he heard a vehicle pull around his house and pull up behind him. He recognized the oversize tires and wheels and knew it was Bruce. He saw Bruce's feet drop to the ground, the scuffed and scratched old work boots he always wore and the frayed jeans covering their tops, and John slid out from under his truck. As he lay on his back, wiping his hands of the worst of the oil and grim, Bruce came up and stood over him. John had known Bruce all his life, when he was born and his parents came to church with him only a few weeks old and John, only five, standing around watching the adults admiring the baby wrapped up in the blanket, then all through their childhoods at church, then the school bus rides where at school their age differences separated them. John had watched Bruce grow up, his body fill out from playing football and baseball, and when John was starting to farm full time with his father and expanding their farming, Bruce left for college, home only a few weekends and breaks and the summer. It was summers when John saw Bruce the most and really began to notice him, the way his body really filled out, a strong muscular frame, and he let his hair grow out some, his jet black hair no longer cut close to the scalp. Now Bruce stood over him, his old plaid shirt hanging loose over his frame, unbuttoned to mid-chest and the sleeves ripped off revealing his strong tanned arms and upper chest. John had to hold up one hand to shield his eyes as he looked up to Bruce, the sun shining just over his shoulder hitting John in the face.

"Hey Bruce, figured you'd come by sometime."

Bruce looked down at John, looked at his long lean frame, the way his dirty t-shirt rode up from his low-waist jeans revealing the white band of his boxers and about an inch of flesh. He looked at the way the sleeves of the t-shirt rolled up and he could see the hair in his arm pit of his upheld arm, the light brown hair wet with sweat. He brought his eyes to John's face, looking up at him, waiting for him to say something, as he quickly looked at John's face once again, as he had done for years, noticing how his brown hair curled slightly when wet with sweat, how his sideburns came in thick and straight, John letting them extend down below his ears, and Bruce looked at the goatee that framed his chin, and as he scanned upward he noticed the vivid blue eyes looking back at him, waiting, knowing.

"Yeah, meant to come by sooner...but been busy. Daddy has a cow that is sick and I've had to tend to it."

"Sorry to hear. You're not going to lose it are ya?"

"Nah, it's better now. We got her shut up in a separate pin for awhile, though" Bruce replied, his natural southern dialect slowly rolling off his tongue. Bruce looked up and away, as if he suddenly saw something, buying time, nervous to continue, to say what he wanted to say.

John sat up and tossed the rag over his tool box and sat staring at the ground, knowing it was tough, knowing it could be so hard to say, here in this place, a place so relaxed and laid back on the surface, but when something was different, not the norm, then...

The tension was making them both feel anxious, but John felt he had to let Bruce speak first, had to know it wasn't a fluke, seeing him last Saturday night, down in town at the only gay bar; a small hole in the wall place out in the edge of the industrial park where most of the industry had been gone for a decade or longer, where most of the buildings were boarded up; a place separate from those who are un-accepting, safe from prying eyes.

"I saw you...well...shit" and his voice faltered, his body tensed up tight and John could see him balling up his fist and releasing them, see the way the fear surfaced in his face. "Damn...John, ya go there often?"

"Yeah, pretty often."

"That was my first time going there. I..ah...well I'd been wondering, ya know, and I went on line and...there was a couple of times at college I...uh, well..." and Bruce finally looked John in the eye, his determination to say what he had come to say; "couldn't stand it, the way it seemed like a...I don't know how to say it."

"Just a hook up?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you bolt Saturday night when you saw me?"

"I don't know. It surprised me to see you there, to see someone I knew, someone..." and Bruce looked down at the ground, kicking the dirt with his right boot.

"Bruce, are you gay?" John asked the question as simply as he could, his voice calm and quiet. Bruce just shook his head yes. "It's ok Bruce, it's nothing to be ashamed of, no matter what you've heard."

"I know, but..."

"No buts about it, but you're right to think it isn't easy, not here, where it is so hard to find someone."

Suddenly Bruce looked up, looked John in the eye, and a small smile spread over his face. "So ya don't have a boyfriend, or anything?"

John looked up at Bruce, a smile on his face as he hesitated a moment before shaking his head no. He held up his right hand for Bruce to help him up and as Bruce pulled, John stood up in front of him, so close Bruce caught his scent, that fresh working masculine scent. John put his hands into his front pockets and rolled on his feet closer, face to face.

"You want to come up to the house, maybe stay for dinner...or something."

Bruce looked at John as his offer sank into his mind, and he thinking 'finally' for he had watched John what seemed all his life, every since he felt some vague attraction to other boys, even before some of his classmates thought of girls, when he didn't understand the attraction but knew he had to be careful, not stare too long, not look at them too hard, but with John, over the years, it had been hard. He'd known John all his life, who was always older, more mature, and when he got to sixth grade and John a junior, riding the bus for the last few times before he got his first truck, Bruce had watched the tall lean body make its way down the narrow aisle, watched the way his round ass would move by him, his jeans always tight and low on his waist. He had fantasized about John, masturbated to his thoughts of what it could be like, but he had never seriously considered John available, the five years between them seemingly so large in school. But now, he a senior at college, soon to be finished, and John settled down to farming, it was different now, the age difference, that invisible wall between them that made John out of his reach. He looked at John, looked at the smear of oil across his cheek, the way his sweaty hair fell over his forehead, looked into his blue eyes, seeing the mischief, the daring and he smiled as he stood up straight leaning forward closer, so close their noses nearly touching.

"I'd love to come up to your house, stay for dinner...or something" he replied in a whisper.

John led Bruce up to his house, an old clapboard single story house set high off the ground, its masonry piers rising up waist high. They made their way up the concrete steps to the screen porch that ran the width of the back of the house, and across the porch where John took a seat and began to unlace his boots.

"If you don't mind, can you pull your shoes off and leave them out here?" He asked Bruce.

"Sure" Bruce replied, dropping down on the porch to tug off his boots. He sat his boots next to John's and followed him inside. The interior was a surprise, its décor so simple, so clean, the furniture contemporary, with art work on the walls. It was one large room across the back, living, dining and kitchen. John saw the look on Bruce's face, the surprise at the interior.

"I've been renovating the house as I can afford it. I flipped the plan putting all the living areas back here and now I'm doing the front. So don't be surprised at the mess up there."

"This is really nice, John. I mean it; really nice."

"Thanks. Listen, why don't you relax, turn on the TV or the computer; I've got some music downloaded on it. I'm going to jump in the shower and wash up."

Bruce looked at John and smiled. "Okay."

John was soon under the shower, letting the hot water rinse the worst of the grim off, then grabbing a wash cloth, soaped it up and began to scrub his skin clean. He kept thinking about Bruce, thinking about all the times he had seen him when he was maturing, filling out, remembering thinking he was going to be attractive and would probably break a lot of hearts, the way his Native-American features gave him a handsome profile, natural olive toned skin that looked so smooth; looks so smooth and now his hair having a little length, the real deep shine of its blackness really visible. He thought of the times he'd seen Bruce mowing along the shoulder of the road along his family's property, shirtless, his upper torso tanned and shiny with sweat, or the times in recent years of seeing him at the general store, coming in to take a break, and leaning over to pick a candy bar from the low shelves in front of the counter, his jeans tight to his ass, his thin cheap t-shirt riding up to reveal tanned flesh, or days he wore a tank top, something most of the other guys didn't wear, and he could see his underarm hair, usually wet with sweat, and he had in those moments pushed those thoughts out of his mind, thinking Bruce too young, even though he had been at college at the time, thought him straight, not interested in other guys, but now, as he washed the shampoo from his hair, he had to smile at the way things were working out, the way he had seen Bruce come into that bar, so relaxed and casual, until he realized he was being watched by someone who knew him, who had grown up in his own community and he had bolted out the door. John had been disappointed at first but he knew, sooner or later, eventually, Bruce would show up at his place.

John turned to let the spray hit his back as he washed his chest, down his stomach and his crotch when he realized he was no longer alone. He looked through the cheap plastic curtain and saw Bruce standing there, and as he pulled it back to see clearly, he realized Bruce was naked. He glanced down Bruce's body, it firm and muscular, more developed than his own, downward over his narrow waist and flat stomach, down over his half hard cock arcing out over his nuts, then he looked up into his smiling face.

"Can I get in with ya" he asked.

John pulled back the curtain and moved to make room for Bruce in the old tub. Bruce stepped in, up close, face to face with John as he pulled the clear plastic curtain back. The spray was hitting John on the shoulders and back and cascading down his body and splashing onto Bruce's skin. Bruce leaned forward and put his lips to John's neck, ran his mouth upward to his ear and came back along his jaw line toward his mouth. John felt the warm mouth, pressing through the warm water, as it slid over his face. Soon they were kissing as their chest came together. Bruce soon had John's cock in his hand, tugging on it, squeezing it, stroking it, making it rise up hard. John held Bruce by the waist, lost to the sensations of Bruce was giving him until he couldn't take it any longer and he moved against Bruce, pushed him against the wall pressing his body up against him tightly, letting Bruce feel his hard cock pressed against his own. John rocked his hips against Bruce, pressing his cock between them, feeling it get harder; his need more urgent.

John stepped back, his breathing almost ragged, and he looked at Bruce in the eye, dark brown eyes, seemingly endless in their depth. He dropped down on his knees and held on to the cheeks of Bruce's ass as he leaned forward and kissed and licked Bruce's hard cock. He ran his tongue up the curved shaft, over the loose skin pulled back from the head and sucked on the head like a lollipop, tonguing it, sucking it, feeling it fill his mouth, feeling it begin to move back and forth as Bruce began to work his hips, move them in that primitive natural instinctive way, pushing his cock deeper into John's mouth, feeling its warmth envelope his cock.

Bruce held John's head between his hands and felt his light brown hair slide between his fingers, as he pushed his hips forward, sinking his cock into the warmth of John's mouth, feeling the slick wetness. He pushed forward as far as he could then pulled back. John's hands tightened their grip on his ass when he pushed all the way in making John take all of him till he felt John's nose press against his skin. He increased his pace, feeling his need build quickly, his desire, his fantasy of being with John fulfilled, and John held on, took every stroke of cock in his mouth. When John slid one hand around, slipped his fingers down into the cleft of Bruce's ass, probed along till he found the opening, rubbed it with his fingers Bruce's rhythm became jerky, shoving his cock into John's mouth and when John penetrated him, pressed one finger in, breached his opening, Bruce slammed forward, rammed his cock all the way into John and cried out.

"Fuck" shot out of his mouth like an exhaled breath and he came, shooting his cum into John's suctioning mouth. It had never been like this in college, this desire, and he thrust his hips forward on each ejaculation shoving his cum deep into John's throat. When Bruce was spent, the exertions momentarily tired him and he fell back against the wall breathing hard, John pulled back and held Bruce's cock up, it still half hard, and licked it clean. When he stood up Bruce was looking at him smiling, as the water continued to spray down between them hitting them at the waist. John leaned into Bruce and kissed him, hard and passionately, tongue probing deep into Bruce's mouth, letting him taste the remnants of his own cum. As they kissed John soon had one hand back at Bruce's ass, probing, fingering into its smooth cleft, soon breaching him again, pushing one finger deep into him, then two and finally three, stretching Bruce's opening, feeling it relax, take the penetration. John pulled back and using his other hand turned the willing Bruce around, had him face the wall, his hands brought up to shoulder height, as he leaned toward the wall, pushing back his ass, spreading his legs, giving John room, the space he needed to move up to him, to take him, to penetrate him. John leaned over Bruce's back, let him feel his body press against him, warm skin pressed to warm skin, as he kissed and nibbled Bruce's neck and ears, as he ran his nose through Bruce's wet hair, and as he pushed his cock against Bruce's ass, probed it, rubbed along its opening, teasing it, feeling Bruce push back whenever he rubbed over it, wanting John to do it, to penetrate him.

"Do it...do it" Bruce whispered, his voice husky, far away, lost to his desire to be penetrated. "Fuck me John...please."

John pushed forward, pressed against Bruce, feeling his cock sink into him, breach his opening, spread it open and Bruce pushed back, penetrating his body on John's cock, taking its length as he slowly pushed back, pushed through the initial pain, the stretch of his hole to accommodate the hard thick shaft. John let Bruce set the pace, let him push back till he was all the way inside Bruce, his cock sunk into the warm soft depths of him. He pulled back slowly, feeling the tight ring of his opening milk his shaft as it slid through and when only the head was still inside, he bit down on Bruce's shoulder and sunk his cock all the way back in, pushed till their bodies were pressed together. He held still only for a moment, savoring the feel of their heated up bodies in full contact. Then he began to fuck.

John rocked his hips back and forth, worked his cock through the tight opening, through the warm soft interior of Bruce. Bruce took it, each thrust of John's cock, each deep penetration, as John swing his hips back and forth, slowly at first, feeling every move, each sensation along his shaft as he buried it in Bruce over and over and over again. John reached around Bruce's waist, took his hardening cock, feeling it rise up, thicken, harden in his grasp, as he continued to thrust into him, speeding up, feeling his need drive him faster and faster. Soon he was pumping Bruce's cock at the same pace he was hammering his hole. Hard solid thrust inward, tight stroke downward on Bruce's cock, over and over, till both of them were breathing hard, grunting with every forceful move, bodies slamming together; the heat between them rising. John tightened up against Bruce, working his hips, working his hand down Bruce's cock and when he felt he was there, felt his cock flex up harder, his shaft expand some more, he bit down on Bruce's shoulder, a light bite, just enough, mixing pleasure with the pain, as he came, pumping his cum deep into Bruce, shoving his ejaculating cock through its own load. As he felt his cock shoot out its last he felt Bruce's ass tighten down on his shaft, felt the body underneath him tighten up, the cock in his hand flex and jerk, and he knew Bruce was coming, shooting another load, pumping it out as John shoved in one more time, holding his spent cock in place, savoring the moment. They stood still a moment, both slowly regaining their breath, feeling their bodies relax and soon realized the shower was turning cold, the hot water supply used up. They quickly showered off and got out, toweling each other off, feeling the towel slide over the other, over the firm flesh, feeling every contour. John hung the towel over the curtain rod and looked at Bruce standing by the door.

"You want to go to eat or would you prefer to just stay here and I'll throw some steaks on the grill. We can just hang out, relax, and watch a movie or something."

"Let's stay here..." Bruce replied and smiled at John, openly, relaxed. "Then we can watch a movie... or something."