The start of that summer was no different than summer's past, same old, same old. Every day pumping gas, every night driving around the southern Illinois night, drinking beer and occasionally visiting the make-out grounds at the old mill.
When we heard that my brother Billy was killed in Nam, everything changed. My home became a house of sorrow, filled with the dirge-like cries of my mother.
And when I couldn’t take it anymore, I headed out onto the Interstate and stuck out my thumb. There I was just another sixteen-year-old with my long hair blowing in the wind with my destiny on the line.
My first ride was comedic. A Volkswagen slowed to a stop and once I saw the driver, a pipe-smoking fancy, Yankee dandy with a mustache, my immediate sense was that he was going to try to pull the wool over my country boy eyes. I got into the car anyways when he told me that he was driving to the West Coast.
Right away he directs me to look through the stack of magazines that were lying between me and him. The top one was Life magazine. The cover had a picture of Vietnam.
When he saw me recoil he probably thought I was a pacifist. He said something like don’t worry the good ones are underneath. He was sure right about that. There were a bunch of porn magazines filled with big tits and killer beaver.
I was sporting six hard inches, when suddenly he reached over to feel it. I remember his exact words.
“Want me to take care of that for you. There must be some corn fields around here we can go to.”
I hated to lose the ride but I just said, “No way, mister,” and got out in the middle of nowhere.
The rest of the day I did a lot of walking and a lot of thinking. I was fantasizing about what it would have been like to go to a cornfield with that dude, and getting jerked off or sucked off with a cob of corn up my ass.
I had to admit that the unknown and the novelty had an attraction all of its own. However, I just couldn’t see that guy as the person I would want to be with in that way.
It was dusk when a motorcycle pulled over. It was an Indian brand and the driver had a black leather jacket, black boots and an earring in his left ear. He was middle-aged and when he took off his helmet I could see some grey hair.
“Where you headed, son?”
“West Coast.”
“Well, I’ll be, just where I’m going tomorrow. Tell you what, if you like, you can stay at my cabin tonight. It’s about a hundred miles from here. Then you can come with me tomorrow, first thing. What you say to that?’
Truthfully, I was kind of nervous and suspicious but I told myself I couldn’t afford to pass up another ride going right to where I was going, so I said yes.
He gave me a helmet to put on and we were off. I was sitting right behind him with my arms around his waist. The engine vibrated me the whole time and after a while, I had an erection. Occasionally, when Jim applied the brakes I would be jammed up against his butt. He seemed to apply the brakes a little too often for my taste.
Eventually, he pulled off the main highway onto a tree-lined, dirt road. The moon and stars gave light to the long and winding route. Finally, we came around the bend and I saw the cabin on the lake. It was picturesque. We walked across the screened-in porch and Jim opened the door to the dwelling. It was somewhat small, but it did have a kitchen sink, bed, sofa and fireplace.
Jim could see the where the hell am I going to sleep look that was featured on my face. He nonchalantly mentioned that we could sleep back to back. We had some bread and sardines and went right to bed because it was late. I was thinking how it would be if we spooned front to back instead of back to back but Jim was true to his word and my fantasy didn’t happen.
When I woke up I heard the water spray of an outdoor shower. I went over to the kitchen window to take a look. There he was, soaking up the sunshine with the water running off his broad-shouldered, muscular body. Jim had a thick waist which his beefy backside supported fully. His thighs, in turn, were as sturdy as fence posts.
In the midst of my contemplation, he dropped the soap and I saw his package, balls and all, hang down between the V-shape of his legs. I caught my breath. His dick was as big and wide as a truncheon. In this exact moment, he caught me peeking and he motioned to me to come outside.
“Care to share a shower, hombre?”
I stripped down, entirely too embarrassed at having been discovered, not to have done so. I could tell Jim liked what he saw. He was kind of staring at my dog when he told me I could be a model as soon as I got to the Coast. I blushed. Jim began to use the soap on my body, saying it would help loosen the road dust from the day before. He stopped just short of soaping up my dick and ass-crack. I kept thinking about what I would do if he had not.
As my cock was starting to stiffen, Jim suggested a swim. We raced down to the lake and out to the raft which was anchored down. We climbed up out of the water and I truly got stiff watching Jim’s magnificent body mount the pontoon. Jim rotated back towards me while halfway up the ladder, revealing some tumescence of his own while taking note of my increasing admiration. Jim asked me if I would like to spend an extra day hanging out. The awkward unsaid part was that that meant I would be spending another night as well. I was scared yet excited by his proposition, so I said sure, whatever.
Then Jim suggested we wrestle to determine who would be king of the raft. I felt Jim’s strength as he wrapped his muscular arms around me. We were face to face as he did so, causing our dicks to mash together. For Jim, I think this wasn’t meant to be sexual, but for me, afterwards, I just couldn’t get the euphoric feeling out of my mind.
Jim threw me off the raft and yelled something like let’s swim the lake. Follow me. I stayed very close behind Jim as he led the way across. The lake was clear and I could see up Jim’s hairy crack. At times, I was so close that I could almost kiss it. Midway, Jim suddenly stopped swimming, causing me to bump my nose into his ass. Jim spun around and we shared a good laugh and a hug.
It took quite a long time to swim to the distant shore and back. On our return, we napped on the raft. I was completely tuckered out and it was quite pleasing to lie together (especially with Jim naked) in the afternoon sun, absorbing the rays. Jim’s body was on display. His limbs were splayed about and his penis seemed less threatening as it lay soft and relaxed. It occurred to me that it might be quite lovely to suck if I was into that sort of thing.
At a certain point, as the sun’s light started to wane, Jim stood up and dove into the lake and swam to shore. Again he waited for me to follow, and then he got out of the water and sauntered back to the cabin. I could only admire the sway of his behind as he did so.
Before going into Jim’s place, I decided to take a brief detour in order to gather myself from what up to this juncture had been an extremely pleasant yet demanding, and in some ways, overwhelming and difficult day. Specifically, I felt I was being pulled by Jim’s sexual magnetism in a powerful, strange way and I wasn’t sure I should allow it. It was all quite confusing.
By the time I opened the cabin door, it felt like an eternity had passed. Jim had started a fire in the stone fireplace and lit some candles as well. He sat on a white bearskin rug that covered the floor in front of the burning branches. There he was in all his naked glory. His eyes shone with the reflected light of the burning candles. He welcomed me into the room and beckoned for me to lie down.
Once I was lying down, he murmured in my ear that it was now important to receive a massage so that I wouldn’t be sore on the motorcycle the next day and not to worry because he wouldn’t do anything that I didn’t want him to. So I guess he was trying to make it clear that it was my decision on what would be happening next. Yet it certainly didn’t feel that I had that sort of power.
Jim rubbed my back gently, and then harder and harder, and then deeper and deeper. Then he knuckled the tissue in my butt until the muscles felt like taffy and I thought I was going to cum.
“As good a place to stop as any,” he said. “Let’s watch some film.”
Jim set the projector up and used an unrolled sheet for a screen. We moved to the sofa in front of the fireplace and Jim started the film. We were still naked when Jim put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
The film was an old-time porno in which James fucked Sally from behind, while she licked Daisy’s cunt, while Daisy sucked Wilbur’s cock, while he sucked Joe’s cock, while Joe licked Sinbad’s ass, while Sinbad fucked Nick’s ass, while Nick licked Lucy’s cunt, or something like that. It was called Daisy’s Chain.
Jim had the sound on very loud. In that cacophony, I spurted a little geyser. I had never seen or heard anything like that film before. That night Jim and I slept in his bed again. He spooned me and I felt his hard mushroom up against my private eye much of the evening. Even though he used restraint, it was an overwhelmingly intimate experience. I found myself very much craving the embrace, yet at the very same time, secretly trying to avoid it.