Chapter 5

The green pickup truck bumped along the dirt road back to a paved county road that led into the city. Back on the paved highway, I rolled down the window to let my body bathe in the glowing yellow spring air. The breezes streamed refreshingly through my hair and body. I felt reluctant leaving his country of majestic trees, rolling green pastures, blooming orchards and lusty people. I had to keep reminding myself of the commitment I had made to Uncle Ross when I had seen him last Christmas, that as soon as school was out in May I would come directly to his farm for the summer. He needed my help, he said, but, I don't really think that was the whole reason. Sure, I had been out to visit Uncle Ross before, but it had been only for a day or two, when Aunt Ellen was still living. She had died two years ago and Uncle Ross had not remarried.

I was glad to be on my way to Iowa and the farm. School didn't interest me very much, except for special subjects. The music teacher had given me lots of encouragement and now I was playing flute. I really dug my flute and carried it with me everywhere. I had it in my pack with me, but hadn't had the opportunity to play it for two days. As I remember, I had been very occupied with a whole new set of experiences -- experiences that I was ready for, eager for, hungry for.

I was a whiz in English and Art, but nothing else interested me except gymnastics. I grooved on developing my body like that of a dancer and athlete. Gymnastics was a beautiful dance to me, only I was using space as my dance floor. The other members of the gymnastics team began to shun me somewhat, to hold me away from them. I finally realized they were afraid and envious of my discipline and abilities. But I didn't really care. I was moving out into worlds I had never known and I was capable at this time of doing that without them. I respected and admired my instructors, but I didn't need to share my new athletic experiences with a buddy. It was totally impossible, at any rate. How can a magic be shared unless two people are equal and on the same plane? Two people never are, never! Two people may be very close to being on that same level and when that happens that friendship and bond which develops is a very special thing.

I began to develop a very special bond with my gymnastic coach. When he had gotten me through all the basics, retrained my body and had me exposed to and committed to flying through space, we began to develop, a special force between us. I could feel it dramatically. Mr. Fellin was all coach -- an excellent coach according to his reputation and according to how I felt about his abilities. But there developed a point in my training when I became aware of a very human coach, not a mechanical one. I felt his excitement along with mine when those mystical moments began to take place as I swung my body through the air. When I would come down after a routine there was none of the flatting me on the ass and telling me what a good job I had done. No, there wasn't any of that old jock bullshit. Mr. Fellin would be ready to catch me if I fell. When I came back down out of the air and onto my feet I could feel his body shaking slightly. His eyes would be electric and slightly wet -- I know because mine would be, too. But he would say nothing. Perhaps he couldn't. I couldn't say anything, either, because I knew that what I had just done in that routine had been right. In fact, it was more than right, it was close to perfect. And that's why we didn't have to say anything to each other because we both knew and understood the same thing. He would always challenge me to a set of tennis after gymnastics and we would go off to the courts.

Mr. Fellin and I developed a deep and close relationship. Besides my work on the parallel bars, we began to develop a dual floor exercise program. After a year we were doing invitational exhibitions throughout the state and I really loved every minute of those times.

Because we had to travel together without trainers for these special exhibitions, we had to give each other our rubdowns after performances. Mr. Fellin had a very beautiful dark-skinned body, well muscled, extremely graceful. I especially liked to rub his wide tapered back, massaging down the cleft of his lower spine. There was a fine patch of dark hair in the hollow just before his hard buns arched out into space.

Mr. Fellin also had exceptionally well-defined calf muscles which I would massage and loosen up after our strenuous floor exercises. I would spend a lot of time inspecting the muscles in those calves, tracing their formation with my fingers, swirling the black hair into soap rings. His feet were not long, but extremely wide, which gave him good balance. When I massaged his feet he would always squirm and laugh. His feet were too sensitive and ticklish to be played around with much.

Then Mr. Fellin would massage my body, working out the tension, always paying a lot of attention to my upper arms, shoulders and chest, which he said he thought were just about perfect. The amazing thing is that although we really grooved on each other, we never had sex together. When I go back to school in the fall, however, I know that our virgin scene will probably change drastically now that I have been brought out with canons blazing. I wonder what Mr. Fellin is doing this summer? I wonder if he thinks of me just as I'm thinking about him?

The truck braked to a halt at a stop-light just as we entered the city and I was jolted out of my revelries. Centerville wasn't a very big place; much like most small agricultural towns of about two thousand people, more or less.

Lou wheeled the pick-up down a side street and pulled up to a curb. "The bus station is right there around the corner; we can use the side door to the place right here," and he pointed to a double glass door just beside the pickup truck.

I didn't know how to thank Lou. I grinned at him and he understood that I was having trouble finding the right words. He helped me over my awkwardness by speaking first. "Look, take care of yourself, you hear." Then he put his big paws on my thighs and squeezed hard, real hard. He cupped the crotch of my Levi's and squeezed a goodbye to my balls and cock. "And especially, Eric, take care of those beautiful buns. Don't just let anyone hurt that beautiful matched set, okay? Martin and I will miss you around here."

"I'll try to come back through here on my way home late in August, Lou. I'd like to lay over for a day or two. I'm going to miss you and Martin, also. Tell that big dumb blond and his horny ass to take it easy."

Lou climbed down out of the pickup and carried my pack into the bus station for me. Pressing me gently on the shoulder he smiled goodbye and was gone out the door.

A big wave of emptiness swept over me. I had been with some good men the past two days and now suddenly I was alone. Perhaps it was best because I was weary and needed to bc alone for a little while.

The information posted indicated there was a bus out at 8 o'clock that evening. That gave me about two hours to kill. I bought my ticket, swung my pack into a storage locker, dropped my quarter in the door and headed out of the bus station and up the main street to have a look at this farm town.

I hadn't gone two blocks when my legs started caving in with fatigue. I spotted a little park where I could relax. I was exhausted and when I stretched out on the grass beneath a gigantic sycamore tree I fell right to sleep. When I awoke the sun was setting and the blue color of the night were already stealing over the city. My heart jumped in panic because I didn't know the exact time and I could have missed my bus. Leaping to my feet I jogged the three blocks back to the bus station.

The bus station was ablaze with light when I rushed through the doors. To my relief I still had one hour to wait. Gulping a big breath of cool air my body began to calm. I strolled over to a refreshment stand and ordered a Pepsi that I swilled down in about three big gulps. Waiting on one of the hard plastic seats I realized that there were only about six other people waiting in the station. There wasn't even a bus in the dock as yet.

I went to my locker, shoved in the key and pulled out my pack. Rummaging through it, I found a pair of long Levi's bellbottoms and a Levi's jacket. I was getting chilly and I knew the bus ride would be chilly as we rode through the night. I put the pack back into the locker and closed the door. I didn't want to spend another quarter to lock up the pack during the few minutes it would take me to change clothes. Hopefully, nobody else would open that locker and discover my pack there. With only six people in the whole place it didn't seem likely. I headed for the men's room to change clothes.

There were only three johns and I picked the one that was unoccupied -- the doors being closed on the other two. I had my pants off when I noticed a huge glory hole in the partition to the next booth. Unfortunately, it was stuffed with toilet paper. I knew there was someone in that next booth and I was curious as hell, so I quietly stood up on the toilet seat and peeked over the partition.

There were two guys in the booth. The guy sitting on the john was a gray-haired old black dude. He had all his clothes off, exposing a lean, flat-bellied body, with good flint muscles on him, like he'd done some hard work in his time. There were some tight wrinkles across his body, but they looked good.

This naked dude had his mouth pressed tightly around a twenty-year-old black's cock. From what I could see from my vantage point above the stall, that cock looked pretty long and hard as it slid in and out of the old dude's mouth. The guy had his eyes closed and was enjoying being sucked as much as the old gent was enjoying sucking him. I got a swift hard-on watching this scene.

As my horniness mounted watching the sucking number below me, my breath came in gasps. The guy must have heard my hard breathing, because he opened his eyes and looked at me in surprise. Instinctively he pulled back his ass, yanking his cock out of the old gent's mouth like he was about to fly out of the place as fast as possible. But he came to his senses in a flash, smiled back at me and stuck his cock back in the face of the old gent who gobbled that beautiful long black pecker deep down his throat. Then he pushed the toilet paper out of the glory hole in the partition and nodded to it with his head.

I climbed down off the toilet seat and plastered my eye against the glory hole. The whole cock-sucking scene was now right before my eyes, just inches away. I could see wet spittle clinging to the hard long prick and my dick started jumping with pleasure. The old man was slurping and making little animal noises in his throat as he anxiously ate fresh meat. He knew that soon this dark meat would deluge his thirsty throat with the salty juices he needed. I could feel that every part of the old gent was into the sucking job he was doing, not only his lips and darting tongue and stretching throat and pumping head, but all of him -- his heart, his head, his belly muscles, his legs -- they were all part of and involved in the heady blow job he was giving.

The guy pulled his pecker away from the hungry old man and stuck it through the hole for me to admire and caress. Oh man, I caressed it -- with both hands, then my lips, then my tongue. It was a beautiful strong pecker and it obviously loved to be caressed and played with. But I really didn't want to take the load of cum away from the old man. He wanted this load, he had been working for this load, he deserved this load and I wanted him to have it.

I stopped my work on the cock and the guy pulled it back out of the glory hole, bent down and wanted to know if something was wrong.

"No man, but the old man has been sucking on you and he really wants you to come. Give it to him and let me watch him take you, ok?"

The guy seemed pleased. "Okay, man; I've got a big fucking load to give Jake and you can just watch the whole scene. Having another dude watch me gets me hotter than hell. I really dig demonstrating sex, man!"

He pulled his pants all the way to the floor, revealing the thickest, hardest-muscled pair of long thighs I've ever seen. His balls were hanging high and tight, small and loaded. He opened his shirt all the way. He had no belly -- it was all pulled in flat and sloped in mahogany, tones to a curly bush of black ringlets, out of which projected his lovely, long, quivering, rigid cock. The guy stroked it in front of my eyes, which were only inches away. He pulled back the foreskin and from quick constrictions deep in his balls he made the dangerous velvet pecker-head swell up and smile at me. He opened the gash at his swollen head to show me the drops of love-dew waiting to be eaten.

The old man licked his lips, his eyes drunk on the feast before him, fully aware of the pleasure this prick would give him. But he was patient and let the guy exhibit all his glorious jewels to me, and to him. Soon the guy was stroking his prick in earnest, horny as hell, aroused by his own lusty display, his awareness that his sexy body was turning on two randy people.

The old man pulled the guy's hands away gently and slid his experienced old fat lips onto the toy he loved the best. He began his suck. His eyes closed, he ran the shaft into the pouches of his cheeks. He opened his mouth as wide as possible so I could see the dark, glistening cock sliding along his tongue. As the cock withdrew, the end of the old man's tongue flicked up to penetrate the slit and tantalize the teen with his stimulating touch.

I wanted dearly to shove my tongue through the hole in the wall for a piece of this suck action, but I restrained myself. This passionate show just a foot away from my eyes was to be a show and only that. I would not participate except as the fascinated voyeur that I was now.

The old dude gently pulled each of the teen's balls into his mouth, held them there and twirled them around ever so gently. He sucked on them, pulled on them, tickled them before he went back to serious work on the beautiful black pillar slapping against his cheeks.

The teen was getting pretty hot, I know, because be grabbed the man by his head and planted his cock between his lips, pushing as hard as he could. I saw the throat of the old man swell with the ramming in of the prick. His eyes watered and he moaned with pure pleasure. The teen pulled back and started a steady hard pumping action of his groin into the old man's experienced hot mouth. The old man had taken out his teeth so that there was only hard and soft muscle in his mouth to be fucked.

The teen moved faster. I could see his balls tightening up and then they practically disappeared into his groin as the old man's sucking forced the pent-up semen to rush up through his rigid pecker and out into the old man's waiting mouth and throat. I saw the cock jump hard inside his mouth about ten times, then slacken. A moment later it began to jump again, but less urgently. The old man swallowed and swallowed. Again I felt his whole being pulled in that teen's sweet load and that precious load transported the old man to another level of awareness. He loved that cum so much: he ate that cum, savored that cum, licked his lips and the cock clean of that cum, and went sailing off into a dream world of his body and mind wrapped into a cum-high.

The teen pulled up his pants and put himself together. He bent forward and whispered to me, "Thanks, man, for watching... it got, me off good." He chucked the old man under his chin and whispered to him, "Thanks Jake, you're the best cock-sucker I know... you got class, man." Then he was gone.

I leaned back on the toilet seat and took a deep breath. Whew... that had been some sweet scene. My cock was pounding hard, my heart was pounding hard, my head was pounding hard; I was knocked out by watching that beautiful blow-job.

I leaned forward and put my eye to the glory hole again to see how the old man had taken the whole scene. He was still sitting there without a stitch of clothes, except for his black socks and shoes. He had his eyes closed, probably remembering how good that cock had been down his throat. I was impressed at how great his sixty-year-old body looked. The waist was slim, the thighs full and sexy. The great full mouth and liquid eyes gave his face an intriguing, gentle, pensive look.

Finally I stood up and shoved my pecker through the glory hole. Immediately I felt those beautiful full lips and gums of the old man grab my cock and start a warm and wet sucking up and down my cock. I wanted to shove my balls and entire asshole inside his mouth also. I closed my eyes and grooved into his hot sucking -- slow, determined, aware sucking. I began to have fantasies of him surrounded by cocks of all ages and all sizes, slowly sucking them all off, taking their loads, eating their cum. I could see some of the cocks overheated from watching his artistic sucking and they would shoot their semen in arcs through the air onto his dark body. Pearls of white cum glistened on his brown chest and belly.

Just then I heard someone come into the restroom. I hurriedly, but reluctantly, pulled my cock out of the old man's mouth and sat back down on the john. I heard whoever came in go into the third stall. The next thing I heard was a hard steady stream of piss hitting the water in the commode. I sat back and took it easy.

When I heard familiar slurping noises again I bent forward and looked through the glory hole to see the old man sucking away on a cock offered him through the partition opposite me. Wow, my adrenaline couldn't stop pumping through me.

There seemed to be some problem that the two of them discussed through the partition. Finally the new fellow left his booth, the old man opened his door and the guy hurried his partly clothed body inside the booth with the old man. I was surprised to see this new guy was a black teen only slightly older than me. When he dropped his pants and swung his pecker up into view I was really envious because he had a beautiful long fat dick. He saw me watching him through the gory hole and seemed to get off on that. In the next moment I realized what the earlier problem had been. This slim beautiful teen not only wanted his cock sucked, he wanted a rim job done on his asshole and that was pretty hard to do through a glory hole.

He whipped his body around, dropped his pants all the way to the floor and bent over, with his tight asshole right in front of the old man's face. The old man shoved his master-tongue out of his mouth and buried it between the teen's black buns. That old man not only knew how to expertly suck off a hot cock, he knew how to rim a hot asshole as well. My asshole began to twitch and contract watching his tongue tickle the ass muscle of his black fellow.

To my delight the old man halted his rimming and pulled the teen's body nearer the glory hole. Soon, his sparkling little asshole was pressed against the partition and I darted my tongue through to taste his muscular delight and to whiff the randy ass. But, putting a tongue through a glory hole and into a buck's ass takes a lot of work for little results. Therefore, I stood up, spit on my cock and rammed it through the glory hole and into the fellow's waiting asshole. Wow, he opened that muscle hole up and let me slide in fast. I rammed in hard. I shoved and I humped and the poor fellow was puffing with good pain and the awkward position of bending over. I heard the old man making his slurping noises and knew that he was on top of the teen's thumping cock and doing his beautiful thing.

The fellow started to move his hard buns around my pecker stuck in his shit hole. His movements became less conscious and more spontaneous, indicating to me that he was getting very hot and bothered. When the rim muscle of his ass began to grab onto my hard pecker and contract, I knew he was ready to shoot his gism into the old man's mouth.

What a sensation that was... to have his ass contracting and squeezing my stiff meat as he threw a creamy load down the old man's gullet. My balls started aching and in a flash there was an explosion through my pecker like Fourth of July fireworks going off. My heavy spunk shot into his ass with crashing force, lubricating his whole hot rectum and my lurching cock. I came... I splashed all over inside his dark ass and it felt wonderful.

He drove his ass back onto my lance as far as he could, burying my shooting stick far into him. I collapsed against the stall partition as my legs went weak. I was brought to my senses by the old man's tongue searching under the balls of this fellow all the way to his asshole to sucker up some of my cum juices that were squishing out his asshole. The old man pulled on the guy's body and slid him off my prick. He turned the teen around so that his ass was again in his face and proceeded to lick up the juices in his asshole. He spread the buns as far apart as possible and dove into the hole, licking, sucking, slurping. The fellow gave him my entire load. He squeezed those rectal muscles, pushing with everything he had and forced my warm cum out of his ass and into the old man's mouth. The old man went crazy, moaning, crying, eating up everything he could get his hungry fat lips and tongue onto. Pearly white cum from a white teen through this black teen's fiery ass -- all for the old black gent.

I was weak... exhausted. I collapsed on the toilet seat, sweating. This day had been too much for me... for anybody. I heard the teen in the next booth pull on his clothes and silently leave. The old man continued to sit there, happy; he looked exhausted, but in ecstasy. I certainly was exhausted, but also in ecstasy. However, what I needed right now was fresh air. I pulled on my clothes -- the clean bellbottoms and my Levi's jacket -- rolled up my cut-offs and left the stall to wash my hands.

While washing my hands I watched in the mirror as the door of the old man's stall opened. There was no one else in the restroom, thank goodness! He was playing it risky and I was nervous about the whole scene.

His door completely opened and there he was sitting naked, with his big dong hanging between his legs. He moved his body forward on the commode so that his dong hung over the toilet seat and the damned thing started reaching for the floor. Man; this was another real museum piece of pecker. I kept my cool and watched nervously. The old man picked up his dangling hose in his right hand and started massaging it lightly. The damned thing stretched out a mile and soon was standing up, looking me meanly in the eye. I was fascinated by this big beautiful old prick. I could imagine all the good times it had had in its sixty-odd years. And, now it was ready to show a teen like me what a big hot pecker could really do.

He stroked -- long and easy strokes. The cock was twice as big as his big hands. The head glistened like polished ebony wood and I could almost smell the good randy odors from its cum-wet slit.

The strokes became stronger and a little faster. The old man's eyes twinkled with delight as he watched my fascinated stare. He knew he was getting me off again. And his knowing was getting him off. He stroked... stroked... STROKED.

Then it came... big gobs... all creamy white gobs... shooting through the air and onto the floor... beautiful thick delicious-looking gobs of cum. He stood up when those gobs began to shoot, arched his pelvis forward and let the tantalizing semen sail through the air and crash to the floor. I was shaking with the thrill of this devastatingly outrageous sight.

I looked at the beautiful old sexy black dude with a look of thanks man for this great three-ring performance; but man, your performance is so overwhelming that I have just got to get out of here and clear my head!