Summer of 1984

My grandfather emigrated from Austria in 1919. He had four sisters, but he was the only boy.

He married my grandmother in 1940. Unable for whatever reason to have children of their own, they eventually adopted a girl (Mary) and a boy (Peter), and each of them in turn had a boy (John Mark for Mary; Matthew (me) for Peter) and a girl (Elizabeth for Mary; Joan (my sister) for Peter).

I was the youngest of the four grandchildren. I had always looked up to John Mark, who was 6 years older than me. He was a stud. He was tall and muscular, his body honed by years and years of soccer (He had played varsity soccer as a high school freshman, and he went to Creighton on a soccer scholarship; everyone but his family called him "Striker"). He looked like Scott Baio, the guy from "Happy Days" and "Charles in Charge." Same profile. Same nose. Same smile.

John Mark was the big brother I never had. He may have been a huge dork or geek to his friends, but he was a god to me. I adored him. When I was with him, I spent all of my time trying to impress him and to mimick him.

Growing up, we spent the month of July on our grandparents' farm (our sisters spent the month of June there). Since it was only the two of us, he did not have to pretend to be annoyed to have a younger cousin trailing after him like a hungry puppy. We watched Rin Tin Tin and the Lone Ranger. We walked the levee. We skipped rocks. We played chess and wiffle ball. We jumped into huge piles of hay in the loft. And, unfortunately, we worked the bean fields.

John Mark turned 16 in 1975. I was 10. I didn't know it then, but that was our last July on the farm together. The next summer, he got a job so he could get a car, and I spent the month alone. I missed him terribly.

Memorial Day

Even after John Mark stopped going to the farm, he'd still spend the summer holidays with me and our grandparents at their river cabin, fishing and hunting snakes on the Gasconade River. My grandparents shared the cabin's only bedroom, and John Mark and I slept on the living room floor.

When John Mark got married at 24, his wife (DeeDee) joined us for those weekends. They shared the living room floor, and I slept on the couch. Sometimes, they'd wait awhile and then call my name. When I didn't answer, they'd fuck. I'd listen and quietly jerk off, imagining I was DeeDee and John Mark was fucking me.

The morning of Labor Day 1983, I awoke to the sound of them fucking again. I slowly turned my head so they wouldn't know I was awake. The sheet covering them had fallen to John Mark's ass. He was up on his arms, and I was at the perfect angle to see between them. I watched his big, hard dick slide in and out of her as she gasped and moaned and grabbed his ass. I was so mesmerized, I didn't notice John Mark looking at me. When I did, he smiled, winked, sped up, and started making faces at me. I had to stifle a laugh, but I watched until he drove into her as deeply as he could and collapsed onto her.

Later that day, John Mark and I were on the dock fishing when he asked "Did you like the show this morning?"

I was embarrassed, and I immediately apologized. "Nothing to be sorry for, Matty. We were fucking right under your nose. I figured you'd wake up, but I didn't care. I wanted to fuck. I don't get it as often as I should. I'd have watched if I were you."

"It was pretty cool."

"You ever fuck anyone?"

"No," I lied. I was 18. Of course, I wasn't a virgin. I had fucked and been fucked.

"You're a good looking kid. You will soon. And, when you start, you won't want to do anything else."

The "kid" stung a little, but John Mark was right. I was a good looking. When I look at pictures of myself at 18, I see a strong resemblance to Zayn Malik, the dark haired guy from One Direction. I had black, curly hair; dark - almost black - eyes, with very long and thick lashes; a slender, small nose; big, full lips; straight, white teeth (after two brutal years of braces and head gear); and a swimmer's body (I had swum for my schools for years). I also had a nice dick, with black curly hair that trailed up to my navel. The rest of me was virtually hairless.

*****

DeeDee stayed home pregnant and nauseous Memorial Day, 1984. I was glad. I liked her, and I really liked listening to them fuck. But, I liked having John Mark to myself even more. When DeeDee was at the river, John Mark had to do married shit like go for 1-1 walks, go for 1-1 swims, and otherwise spend time alone with her. When she wasn't there, it was like we traveled back to the farm Julys, and got the warm feeling of being a little brother again. We played wiffle ball and jarts and backgammon and chess.

We also returned to sleeping on the floor together. As we settled in on Friday night, John Mark pulled his shorts and then his underwear off and put them on the arm of the couch, within arm's reach. I had watched him do that when DeeDee was there, but I just assumed it was so he could fuck her once I was "asleep." I didn't think he'd do it when she wasn't there.

There was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep with him naked next to me.

"Are you excited about the baby?" I asked.

"Not really. We're young. And, being pregnant sucks. DeeDee's sick all the time, and she never wants to fuck. We haven't had sex in four months. and I bet we won't until after the baby is here and she heals back up. It's like being 16 again. All I do is jack off. Speaking of which, I'm going to jack off right now."

He stopped talking as he started stroking his cock. He pulled the sheet down as he got close to coming, so he wouldn't get cum on it. It was dark, and I couldn't see anything. But, I could hear his hand and his breath speed up. I finally heard the familiar exhale and grunt as he came.

I played ignorant. "Did you really just jack off?"

"Yeah. Didn't you?"

"No."

"You should have," he said as he used his underwear to wipe the cum off his chest and stomach.

I played innocent. "It'd seem weird to jack off with another guy."

"Have you never been part of a circle jerk?"

"I don't even know what that is?"

"It's when you and your buddies sit in a circle and jack off together. Sometimes, you race to see who finishes first. Sometimes, you dawdle to see who finishes last."

"You've done it?"

"Yeah. Both in high school and in college."

I had not lied about that part. I had never been part of a circle jerk. If I was ever in one, we'd to have to race to see who finished first, because I'd come really fast if there were a bunch of guys jerking off around me. It'd be like live porn.

*****

John Mark and I spent the next day on the river. For the first time ever, I got high, as John Mark taught me how to smoke pot. We ended the day skinny dipping near the sand bar. When we were done, we laid on the beach to sun dry.

John Mark had a nice dick. It was about five inches soft, but thick, with folds of skin under the head. He also had nice, big balls. I wanted to touch him, but I knew better.

I flipped to my stomach to hide my growing dick. I was pretty sure John Mark had caught me gazing at his meat and knew why I had to flip over.

When we settled on the floor that night, John Mark raised his hips and removed his shorts. I didn't know if had he had removed his underwear, too. He could have not been wearing any or he could have removed them both in one swoop, taking his underwear with his shorts.

I wanted to find out. When I thought he was asleep, I reached my forefinger over, touched his side, and slowly traced down his hip bone to his thigh. There was no underwear.

"What are you doing?" he asked, startling me.

"Nothing," I lied.

"Lie," he declared. "Now answer, what are you doing?"

"I was trying to see if you still had your underwear on?"

"Why do you care if I still have my underwear on?"

"I don't."

"Another lie," he declared again. "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be trying to find out. So answer, why do you care?"

"I don't know."

"Yet another lie," he declared again. "Since you're struggling with lies, maybe I can help you with the truth. I think you wanted to know if I had any underwear on because you wanted to touch my cock. You wanted to on the beach, but you were too chicken to do it. So, you were going to wait until I'm asleep, and then do it. Like a pervert."

"No, I wasn't," I lied.

John Mark shifted, grabbed my wrist, and pressed my hand to his surprisingly hard cock. "There it is. Feel it if you want."

I yanked my hand away. "I don't want to."

"Yes, you do," he said, grabbing my wrist and returning my hand to his cock. "So, go ahead. Feel it. Squeeze it tight."

I gripped him in my hand. His cock was so thick I couldn't get my hand all the way around it. John Mark still had hold of my wrist, and he started moving my hand up and down. He wanted me to jack him. When it was clear I was not going to let go, he did, and I started jacking him on my own. I couldn't believe what was happening.

As I did, I whispered, "John Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I suck your cock?"

"I don't think so."

"Are you sure?"

There was a long pause. As each second ticked by, I felt his resistance ebbing. "I haven't had my cock sucked in a really long time."

"I'll do it. I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay," he relented. "Go ahead. No pun intended."

I slid under the sheet and between his legs. His crotch smelled like river and sweat.

"Make sure you don't use your teeth," he cautioned.

"I know what I'm doing," I said. I couldn't see his reaction, but I'm sure my confidence surprised him.

I went to work. I licked the precum off his slit and licked all around his head before taking him in my mouth. I worked down his cock as far as I could, which was not to the base. He was too big. I slowly sucked him, going a little deeper with each stroke. I cupped his balls with my left hand and stroked him with my right, using it to extend my mouth to the base of his cock. I got strong suction and a good rhythm going.

John Mark started to buck his hips to meet my rhythm. His balls started to clench and sweat.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna come, Matty, I'm gonna come," he said as he bucked his hips harder and exploded. It was too much, and cum ran out of the corners of my mouth. I sucked as much as I could back in and swallowed it all.

I sucked him until it was clear I had to stop. I pulled off and lowered my head to his thigh. He tousled my curly black hair, like he always did. I fell asleep between his legs.

When I woke up, the room was faintly light, I was still between John Mark's legs, and his cock was hard again. I took him in my mouth again.

"Hurry up," John Mark urged. "Before everyone wakes up."

I took him as deep as I could and sucked him as fast as I could. I got the suction right, added my hand, and went at him hard.

"'Fucking hell," he said, as he convulsed into a crunch and came in my mouth. I kept sucking, again draining as much cum from him as I could. I licked and nibbled at his glans until he sucked air between his lips, raised his legs, and forced me to pull off.

I climbed up out of the sheet and laid my head back on my pillow. John Mark stared straight up, rubbing his hands across his face and through his hair before tucking his hands behind his head. "Jesus, Matty, where'd you learn to do that?"

"Billy Jack."

"The stoner down your street?"

"Yep."

"Well, tell him I said 'thanks.' I needed that. DeeDee pretty much stopped sucking my cock when we got married. I'd rather get head than fuck."

"Have you ever gotten head from a guy before?"

"Actually, I have," he said, shocking me. "Once, at Creighton. A party went late and off the rails and 5 of us ended up drunk and in bed together, 2 chicks and 3 dudes. One of the chicks was stupid hot, and I had been working on her for weeks. I wanted to fuck her. Bad. She was on top of me. We were making out. I moved under her so I could suck her tits and then so I could eat her out. While I was eating her out, someone started sucking my cock. It was dark, but, since the other chick was lying right next to me getting fucked by the second dude, it had to be the third dude sucking my cock."

"Wow, that sounds hot."

"It was."

"Did you come in his mouth?"

"No, I wanted to fuck that chick, and I wouldn't have been able to if I let him make me come."

"Did you fuck her?"

"Yep. It wasn't worth the effort I'd put in. It was like fucking a bucket of water. I'd have enjoyed it more if I had just shot in that dude's mouth."

I am not sure John Mark knew it, but I was jacking off through my underwear to his story. I came in the waist band of my briefs. As I did, John Mark grabbed his gym shorts and slid them on.

"Do you always sleep naked?" I asked.

"Sure. I started because I wanted to be ready if DeeDee ever gives me the tap. She hardly ever wants to fuck, so I need to be ready. Now, I can't sleep any other way. I feel trapped if I try to sleep in my underwear."

"The tap?"

"Yeah, you know, the middle of the night tap tap tap on the shoulder that means 'fuck me,'" he said, tapping my shoulder as he did. "I want to be ready to roll any time she wants to fuck, because she hardly ever wants to."

"You fuck a lot when you're here."

"Yeah, it's weird. If we are anywhere else, I usually get some. But, at home, she usually tells me just to jack off."

"I want to have sex all the time."

"Me, too. So did DeeDee, until we got married. Once she got that ring, it was like she was doing me a favor. Once she got pregnant, it became a non-starter."

"Can I tell you something without you getting mad or grossed out?"

"It depends on what you tell me."

"You have to promise," I insisted.

"Fine. I promise."

"I like getting fucked," I admitted.

John Mark rolled onto his side, raised up on one elbow, and looked down at me. "You've been fucked? Like, in the ass?"

"Yep."

"Billy Jack?"

"Yep."

"Are you a fag?"

It was 1984, and the world was different than it is now. No one cared if use of the word "fag" offended an actual gay person, and it certainly wasn't going to offend anyone else. And, the world saw things in black and white. You were either gay or straight. The Kinsey scale existed, but sexual fluidity was alien.

I did not know if I was a fag. I had fucked and been fucked by Billy Jack, but I was also fucking Julia, my sister's best friend. I liked all three. Not equally, but some days, I liked each better than the other.

"No, I don't think so."

"But, you're a total liar. You told me you had never fucked anyone."

"I didn't want you to think I was a whore. I'm only 18."

"Who cares? I wish I had started fucking at your age. I didn't get laid until I was a junior in college. I feel like I'm behind and, now that I'm married, I'll never catch up."

"Do you think DeeDee will get back into it once the baby drops?"

"I hope so. But, one of my buddies has a kid, and he said his wife is now almost sexless. It's just baby baby baby. She lets him fuck her every once and again, but not often. And, not for very long. They even call it 'wham bamming' instead of 'fucking' or 'making love.'"

"Seems bleak."

"Agreed."

"I don't know why anyone wouldn't have sex if they could."

"Agreed. But, I don't think women like getting fucked as much as we like fucking them."

I enjoyed our talk. And, I had used it to lay the groundwork for what I wanted that night.

*****

John Mark and I spent the day on the river again. After breakfast, we fished for bluegill. Fishing was better before the heat of the day.

After lunch, we cruised the banks, hunting for snakes sunning themselves on branches or logs. We killed about a half dozen, for no reason other than because we could. Looking back, it was barbaric.

As we had the day before, we ended up back at the sand bar, skinny dipping and smoking pot. John Mark was in about knee deep, his back to me, his arms spread wide. He was soaking up the sun, which was silhouetting him. He had no body fat. His back was lean and muscular. From soccer, he still had a round ass and thick legs. At 6'4", he was 6 inches taller than me.

Almost on cue, he turned around. With his arms spread, every muscle in his chest and stomach showed. The area between his pecs was covered with the same sandy blonde hair that hung almost to his shoulders. It gathered in a trail that led down his stomach and to his crotch. This was long before trimming became a thing, and John Mark's bush was long and thick, like his cock, which was hard. Just as I got a good look at it, John Mark back flopped into the river and started backstroking across it. As he did, he yelled "periscope down" and, laughing at himself, lowered his hips and cock into the water.

We stayed at the sand bar until it was time for supper. We both sat in the back of the boat as we headed back up the river. John Mark opened the motor, the bow raised, and we skimmed as fast as we could into the current. My grandfather would have killed us if he knew, as we were leaving a tremendous wake and, if we hit a log, would certainly go flying out of the boat.

But, we didn't. We just skimmed along, yelling "woo hoo" as we did. As we slowed and pulled to the dock, John Mark tousled my hair. "Great day, Matty," he said.

He was right. It had been a great day. I was hoping for a better night.

*****

As soon as we were settled on the floor that night, I reached over and "tap tap tapped" John Mark's shoulder.

"What's up, Matty?" John Mark asked.

My mouth was dry with anxiety, but I choked out, "I thought that was the signal for 'fuck me.' I want you to fuck me."

John Mark raised up on his arm. Incredulous, he asked "You want me to fuck you?" hitting both the "me" and the "you" for emphasis.

"I do."

"I don't fuck guys."

"Just because you haven't doesn't mean you don't," I observed, smartly. "And, I'm not 'a guy.' I'm Matty."

He pulled me into him. "Still, I can't fuck you, Matty."

Playing off the Life cereal commercial, I suggested he wouldn't know if he liked it if he never tried it.

"I'm not going to try it with you, Matty."

I was disappointed, but I was also headstrong. "Can I suck your cock instead, then?"

"Well, that seems like a pretty fair compromise to me," he said, laughing and opening his legs to me. I scrambled between his legs and started working his cock. Every time I felt his balls clench, I pulled off and let his orgasm retreat. Finally, he said, "Matty, you gotta let me come."

"I will," I said, "but only if you let me ride you."

"Come on, Matty, just finish me off."

"Can I ride you?"

He didn't respond. Again, I felt his resistance ebbing with every silent second.

"Can I ride you?" I asked again.

"I didn't say 'no'," he responded. Which meant yes.

I spit in my hand, smeared the spit all over my ass, and hovered over his dick. I had been fucked before, but getting John Mark's cock inside me was going to take a fair bit of effort. I slowly lowered myself onto him, pausing and adjusting when I felt like I couldn't take any more. When I was down as far as I could go, I started clenching my ass muscles around his cock and slowly riding it.

"Oh, fuck," was all he said as he quickly filled my ass with his load. I climbed off, and we fell asleep without talking about what had just happened.

When I woke up about three hours later, I tried the tap tap tap maneuver again. This time, there was no resistance. John Mark rolled into me, I spit in my hand and lathered my ass, he spit in his and lathered his cock, and he fucked me missionary style.

"Hook your arms under my knees," I insisted. When he did, it raised my ass off the floor, and he slid all the way in. "Wow," was all he said as he bottomed out and started delivering all he had.

I felt deliciously full, and John Mark's accelerating rhythm took me over the edge. I came without touching myself. John Mark come as soon as I did. He fucked me until he was soft and then he collapsed onto me.