Wanderlust- Christmas Vacation

My first few weeks at college were a blur of ceaseless activities, everyone wanted to get to know everyone else, if only to know who to avoid in the future. There were many late nights, studying at odd hours like four in the morning just before the test, and talking to friends about the meaning of life, homesickness, and careers. But nothing classified you more than the frat experience. Some pledged to fraternities out of their league, while others like myself reluctantly joined a house only after my roommate, Michael, bothered me about it. We didn't pledge the same frat. He was more enthusiastic about the prospect than I was because he was a legacy at an elite frat. I joined a bunch of fellow hay seeds.

There was very little homosexual and homoerotic activity where I pledged. There was a paddle involved and a lot of us just being in our underwear, but it felt so casual, guys walked around in less in the dorm bathrooms. I didn't ask my roommate but I heard rumors about what he had to endure. I assumed there was a lot more paddling and humiliation to it. One person told me he spied on them once, saw all the pledges in cloth diapers. Another person told me they sodomized each other. Possibly the most accurate was a pledge having to lie naked in a coffin with his fraternity brothers around while he confessed everything he had ever done wrong so they'd know his secrets. My first thought was blackmail but the person I was talking to said it was for protection. I dreamed of being a fly on the wall when my roommate was doing it.

At over six foot tall he was a head taller than me and I had seen him naked around the room, in the bathroom. He was broad shouldered, muscular, and well hung. It was difficult imagining someone paddling him but not impossible because he had this kindness to him, a sense of humor. I knew he came from money but he never lorded it over anyone. He was actually generous with his time and his money. That's how I ended up going to his family's home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

We'd been talking about our home lives one night when I mentioned I'd be staying on campus. He told me the school mostly closed but there was a traditional meal for students, faculty, and administrators who had nowhere to go. I made a sarcastic remark about a tin of beans and some canned ham which he laughed at a little but then he invited me to go to his family's home. I declined at first because I didn't want to impose but he told me to think about it. When I finally accepted he got a little excited about it, started naming things we'd do, things I'd get to see.

Thanksgiving was just a two day thing. We traveled up the day before, slept in his old room, me on the floor and him in bed, got up the next morning with everyone else. His father was a strict, intimidating man who had to win a handshake. His mother was a polite woman who I seemed to think of herself as being better than most people though she'd never say it. He had two brothers and a sister. One brother was older, the other was three years younger and his sister was the youngest, barely a teenager. They were polite to me but reserved. I kind of felt like I was getting the cold shoulder and about to think the whole thing was a disaster but Michael wouldn't let me get negative.

He took me around his hometown a little, showed me where he went to school and we got candy from a little store on Main Street but mostly it felt like we were killing time. That night everyone ate too much at dinner, we smoked and drank with the men in his father's study then went to bed. The next morning we left and traveled back to campus. We said it was to study, which we did a little but mostly it was to be on our own without people looking over our shoulders. His mother sent along supplies that lasted us a day and a half, after that we made trips into town to eat at one of the diners.

Christmas was different because for starters it wasn't at his father's home, instead it was at the family home, an old estate out in the rural, farmlands. But it wasn't a farm exactly, though they had horses and other farm animals, it was a mansion. The extended family was there so again we had to share a room but there were more servants, people who took care of things.

For once the holidays were about playing and fun, not full of chores and responsibilities. We did the things we were supposed to do, church and family time, but we also had a sense of personal time that we could do whatever we wanted. For Michael that usually meant hiking in the snow. The only good part of that is when we'd get back to the house, back to our rooms, and strip down for bed. Our room had its own fireplace but Michael wouldn't let me sleep on the floor as it was so cold outside. He insisted that we bundle together.

Everything was fairly ordinary. His parents did have an extra stocking by the chimney for me and it did have a few presents, though less than others. I had only thought to get him a gift, a pen and pencil writing set. He got me an engraved, metal bookmark. Really the gifts weren't the important parts though. The important part was not being alone, that and drinking with the other men after supper. Most of it was uneventful except the last night there.

The last night there we strolled back to the room arms around each other, drunk on brandy. We fell onto the bed together, a fire having already been made for us the room wasn't very cold. Side by side we chatted a little about things until we fell asleep. An hour later I woke up to the sound of him sleeping and an erection strained against the inside of my jeans. I barely gave it a thought, at least there was no worry, as I began to rub my dick as I stared at him. I worked myself until all I wanted was to have an orgasm and that's when he woke up, looked to me and smiled. At first I thought it was just the liquor and I half expected, wanted, him to turn over but he didn't. He sat up a little on his elbows, looked to me.

"Having fun?"

I was stunned by his question for a moment before I could think of just how ashamed I should have been. I had taken our intimacy, our friendship, for granted. This was it, it's over, I thought. But he just smiled at me, then he did something I didn't expect, he reached for my dick. He had hold of it for a moment until I pulled away, pushed myself to the edge of the bed, dizziness stopped me from moving away more and getting up.

"I won't tell anyone," he said. "It's normal."

My face flushed, my fingers tightened on the denim, and I could smell the fire burning a few feet away from us. I felt the bed shift as he got to his knees behind me and moved to my back, cautiously, gently, he wrapped his arms around me. I feared for a moment that he'd attack me though he had never been violent with me before but still I felt it. Instead he pulled me into his embrace, put his head on my shoulder. Our cheeks touched. It felt electric. His fingers moved up my shirt, his hands were so certain as he unbuttoned my shirt, pulled it from my body. Next was my undershirt before he pulled me backwards, lay me at his side as he moved his body partially over mine. He unfastened my belt, my jeans and pulled them down where he hesitated for a moment with my shoes.

Once they were off my whole body relaxed despite him pulling off my jeans and socks next. He ran his fingers up my legs through my thin growth of hair until he reached my white briefs, my aching dick. He slipped a few fingers under the band at my thigh, tickled the fleshy head until he peeled back my foreskin. I gulped for breath and spit as he traced it with one finger. I reached for him with my nearest hand. I was barely able to touch him back when he ran his finger up to my bellybutton. He lay his palm on my tummy as he moved to kiss me. Our burning lips touched, there was a flick of tongue and then he pulled away.

"You can't tell anyone," he said.

"I promise."

"Good because I want this to be special."

He kissed me again as he pushed his hand back down to my underwear, put his fingers inside to my slippery cock. I rolled towards him a little, finally got a hold of him with my far hand, felt his hip, his belt and tucked in shirt. He was still completely clothed and I was almost naked, definitely the most vulnerable, so I pulled at his shirt until it came loose, unfastened his belt and slacks. I grabbed hold of his dick as it poked out of the fly of his boxers. We worked each other like that for a while as we continued to kiss. Finally I pulled away from him.

"I want you to fuck me," I said.

His head fell, his face half buried in my shoulder.

"I've never done much more than this. I've sucked a little, usually the other guy does the same. I've never, you know, done it."

I squeezed his dick until he looked me in the eye.

"I'll show you how," I said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but we should get under the sheets. It's cold."

He pulled away from me so I got to my feet as he did the same. I pulled back the covers, then watched as he stripped down completely, his dick stuck out from him and bounced as he got back into bed. I pulled off my underwear, got back in on my knees, straddled him as I pulled the blankets up over my back. I squashed his dick and mine between us as I kissed him some more, played with his nipples until they were hard points and he began to fidget at my touch.

Satisfied that I had worked him into a passionate desire, that I had his consent, I kissed my way from his neck down to his dick. In the darkness under the sheets I licked and kissed it, nibbled and spit until it felt slippery, then I spit into my own hand and rubbed it on my asshole until I thought we were both prepared. I moved back up him, over his dick then back onto it. Slowly I worked it inside of myself with the help of some more spit until I settled to the base, my balls touched his pubic hair for a moment before they retracted as I played with my own dick. I worked myself slowly as I was conscious of the way it made my asshole contract. I felt him there. He was inside of me but I was the one who really had him. He was subject to my desire, my will.

I rose up and sunk back down slowly, listened to the way he breathed. I grabbed at his chest, twisted his nipples some more until he moaned. He grabbed at my hips but I pushed his hands away. I wanted him, his need, to be under my control. I lowered my head for a kiss and he tried to raise his head up to meet mine but I dove in shorter to his chest, his neck. I sucked at his flesh and gave him my fingers, stuck them in his mouth. His lips were like smoldering coals that came to life with my touch. His tongue, his spit, my fingers went to the back of his throat, back and forth, in and out as I continued to ride him.

Sweat ran from my shoulders, pooled at the small of my back. He groaned and grunted to my manipulation. I bucked a few times, then slowed, a few more times as I reached back and took hold of his balls. I pulled them a little, tickled them. He tried to take hold of me again but I pushed his hands away. I slid off of him, scooted up over his arms, pinned him to the bed, stuck my dick to his lips. He sucked at it eagerly so I pushed inside until he gagged, then I pulled out to let him catch his breath. I took hold of the back of his head and told him to lick my balls which he did without complaint.

I toyed with my dick as he licked me down there, sometimes his tongue went a little deeper but not by much. He kept at until I knew I was close to a climax. I moved back down, took hold of his dick and worked it back inside of me. It didn't take much more to send me over the edge. My ejaculate shot up to the headboard, into his hair, onto his face. That was when my body gripped him the tightest and he also ejaculated inside of me. We moaned in pleasure and pain, then fell silent. I pushed myself from him, fell beside him, put my head in the crook of his arm, let one arm settle over his chest.

We smelled of sweat, but I didn't want to move as my senses came back to me, not until we had cooled off and then it was only to pull the blankets and sheets up over top of us.

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Wanderlust- Back to the Grindstone

Returning home from college for summer break I felt a sense of independence like no other time in my life. My mind had been expanded. I had learned not only of other cultures and other religions but of the opportunities any man could have with an adventure to the city, some spark of his imagination. With more of an education there was a real chance of no longer being beholden to my father and his farm. As I rode back to town on the train everything felt so much smaller. At the station I noticed details that had been so ordinary, even the wagon and horses guided by one of the farm hands felt antiquated compared to the cars I had seen. Things were slow to change there, I reasoned that I would have to escape in order to be successful, and so the closer I got to the farm the sadder I felt.

A kind of gloom fell over me, especially once we got to the property I began feel sentimental for this land, these people. I would have to one day leave them behind, one day in the not too distant future would be the last and then never again. But when the wagon finally stopped in front of the house that had been my home for so long I forced myself to smile, perked up my shoulders and went inside to greet my parents. It had been almost a whole year, since I hadn't been back on winter break and instead spent the holidays with a college friend's family. There had been many cold nights at his parents' home that gave us many good reasons to bundle up together and share the same bed. Waking up next to him, so warm and safe, still brings a smile to face, but that's a story for another time. Once I was back on the farm I had to forget those things, on the farm there was only work and swift justice.

My parents looked older than I had remembered them. My mother seemed to slouch more, my father's hair more gray. I hugged them each in turn and we had a small meal before my father said that we should get to work. There was always something to be done on the farm. Just the thought of going out to barn got me excited. I was unsure if Brad and Rocko were still working there but I had good reason to expect they were. There had been no mention of either of them leaving in my mother's letters. For a while I had worried my father might fire Rocko for spanking me and making me work in my underwear but he hadn't, not even a comment. And I was terrified Brad would say something about what we did or otherwise get caught in some compromising position, but I reasoned that he hadn't.

So when I saw Brad in the loft moving hay I was relieved and elated. I wanted to run to him, hug him, kiss him, and pull off our clothes but the best I could do was stare at him with my jaw hanging loose, give him a nod. My father mentioned something about getting hay from a different farmers field as he complained about this stuff having too many weeds but I barely paid attention. I admired Brad's form then we were off. He showed me a new tractor, pointed out repairs that had been made to the buildings before making our way to the final site. Rocko was in the ring with a new stallion when we found him. He waved hello to us and we waved back, for a moment I thought that would be it until my father signaled for him to come over to us. He handed the reigns over to one of the other hands as we got closer to the fence.

Just getting close to him made me weak in the knees. At a distance he was small, ordinary, but up close, right in front of me he was a force of nature with his broad shoulders, muscled arms, narrow waist. He looked down to me and gave a little smile with just the twitch of his cheek. It was as if he remembered but wasn't going to hold it over me, keep me in pain.

"My son here is back from college, he might have forgotten a few things but I expect he can get back into the swing of things. I expect you to put him back into the mix with his regular chores starting this evening and maybe he can help you here."

"Yes sir," Rocko said.

My father looked to me and I stared back unsure of just what he expected.

"Well get to it," he said.

"Yes sir," I replied before ducking and climbing through the fencing. Rocko helped me steady myself on the other side and just for a moment I wished I had fallen into his arms but I quickly stepped away from him as I hoped my father hadn't seen, hadn't suspected what I felt. We walked together to the horse as my father headed back to the house. It was almost ordinary until my father called back to us, "don't be afraid to use the whip. He could use some discipline."

My face went red with embarrassment, my ears burned. I shook my head as I looked to the ground. One foot in front of the other, I told myself. Me or the horse, I thought. My father was a man of secrets and innuendo who could hold a silence, keep a person in suspense and then make some vague comment like that, though usually it was a joke to lighten the mood sometimes it wasn't. A comment like that would normally leave me reeling for hours but somehow being outside in the ring with Rocko and something to do I dismissed it.

He took back the reigns easily and worked the horse until it was tired then he brought it in close. I moved to its front shoulder and petted it gently as he let it nuzzle against his armpit. After letting the horse catch it's breath we walked it back to the stalls where we did a little bit of tidying up. I felt like everything had returned to normal until it was time for washing up before dinner. Rocko led me to one of the empty stalls with a bucket and hose. Rocko took off his shirt. I reluctantly did the same. I felt a little ashamed at having gained a bit of weight. I sighed at my love handles. Good eating and being lazy, I thought. Rocko smirked.

"We'll burn that off of you this summer," he said.

I blushed at the comment and tried to think of a sarcastic reply when I heard a familiar voice behind me say hello. It was Brad. Just the sound of him snapped me from my friendly bond with Rocko. Just the sound brought back that day, that night. His flesh and my flesh in carnal embrace, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck, my clothes and boots felt impossibly big. He moved to my side and clapped a hand to my shoulder as he put an arm around them.

"Good to see you're back for the summer," he said.

Rocko eyed us a moment as he dried his armpits with a towel. He began to put his shirt on and I thought to say something, to push Brad away from me but it was too late. Rocko was on his way out and Brad was there to stay, bonded to me. Neither of us spoke until Rocko left the barn and we were fairly certain no one else was around.

"I missed you," he said. "It's been an extra long winter without you."

Was he getting romantic? Was he getting sentimental? It seemed so unlike him that I doubted he was being honest. I rolled my eyes but he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, a sloppy kiss that left spit where his lips had been. He gripped at me again before he moved away to the other side of the bucket. I was shocked to see him begin to strip down, not just his shirt but his jeans too and his underwear. I wiped the spit from my face with my hand as I watched him splash water on his body, with special attention to his armpits, dick, and hairy balls. We had fallen into a silence. I was content to just watch him until he spoke.

"I got a few bottles of moonshine, some bad shit that will put hairs on your chest and a few more on your balls too. What do you say?"

 I gulped at the invitation. I had done very little drinking until then, the most in one sitting was Brandywine over the holidays. I had gotten red in the face and naked, oh god naked with Michael. We lay facing each other, gently exploring each other's bodies with our fingers, and then our lips, eventually our tongues. Brad and I could do the same thing.

"I'm in for it," I said. "When?"

"Tonight, after everyone goes to sleep, just sneak out of your bedroom window and meet me out at the pavilion. I'll bring everything."

Once again I wanted Rocko but all I could get was Brad. He had been fun once, there was a promise of being fun again. I told him that I would be there then we parted ways. Dinner was an easy routine, I did my evening chores, and prepared for bed like I had always done, said goodnight to my parents and carried the lantern to my bedroom where I opened my window and changed from my night shirt back into my day clothes in preparation and waited until I could hear my parents snoring. I slipped out of my open window, walked across the farm to the pavilion.

For a moment I thought he hadn't made it until he stepped out of the shadows. He handed me a bottle that I took without reservation, put it to my lips and tried to casually drink from it. It burned from my lips to my asshole, settled in my stomach. He laughed a little as I handed it back to him. He took a drink then passed it back to me. I drank again more prepared than I was the first time but still unable to hold back a cry of excitement and a shiver of the body. He took the bottle from me, had a second drink then put the quirk back in it before he set it on the ground. I felt slightly dizzy yet excited and nervous. What had I gotten myself into?

He moved to me, put his hand to my neck, stroked my jaw before he pulled me into a kiss. Our tongues slipped against each other, tickled at each other's lips and teeth as he wrapped his arms around me. His hands went to my ass which he gripped tight enough to make me stand on the tips of my boots. I grabbed back at him, untucked his shirt and he went for my buttons. He worked his fingers down from my collar, each one came undone. He untucked my shirt, unfastened my belt, undid the button and zipper of my jeans. My shirt fell from my shoulders, down my arms to the ground as he pulled my jeans to my ankles. He grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and pulled my cloth covered dick to his lips. He kissed and licked as I looked up to the ceiling and moaned in pleasure as my hard dick drooled against the white fabric.

He peeled down my underwear, my hard dick stuck out from me into the cool air for a moment before his lips went to that area between my dick and scrotum. He moved his wet lips along the shaft, back and forth until I thought I couldn't take anymore. That's when he stuck my dick in his mouth, the flared, bulbous head right into his throat as he sucked and groaned until I could feel the spit run from his lips and down over my balls.

I grabbed at his head, took hold of his curly hair, pulled him as tight as I could before releasing him. He pulled off me and gasped, his hand went to my dick and stroked the shaft as he caught his breath and wiped away spit with his other hand. My legs ached from standing there so I shifted on my feet. He continued to stroke me as I reached for my nipples, worked them into hard points. I was desperate for him to keep sucking. I was disappointed when he stood up until he kissed me on the lips before leading me further into some tall grass where he guided me to the ground and onto all fours.

He moved behind me and I expected him to start rubbing against me but instead I felt something else, his hands pushed my cheeks apart, his fingers pressed into my flesh, something slick, his tongue, went to my hole. It tickled at first and I thought he was just preparing me until he got his tongue into me. Just a little bit of opening and the pleasure ran through me, right to my nipples and the spot between my shoulder blades. I moaned, grunted, and pleaded for him to keep doing it as my hard dick leaked to the ground. I supported myself with one elbow and took hold of my dick as I felt his fingers begin to also work my hole.

In moments I was relaxed for him until I felt his hands move up my body. He took hold of my shoulders as I felt his dick at my hole. He pressed into my slowly, back and forth with small attempts to go deeper until I relaxed to him. His balls hit against mine and I knew it had been done once again. He pulled me into a kiss. It was blissful torture to have him inside me, to be kissing me. I felt him simultaneously. His fingers scraped down my back sending tingles through me. My asshole tightened, my lips felt red hot. He ran his fingers to my hips where he took hold of me before he started to pull out, then push his way back inside. He worked me like a piston, occasionally our lips touched, his fingers roamed, and I got to tickle my own dick until I felt him work until he was almost out of breath.

Sweat rolled down my back, chilled parts of my skin while others burned, my knees and thighs ached, my stomach was tight. His dick felt like it would split me in half, tear me to shreds. He pushed my shoulders into the ground, my nipples rubbed the blades of grass until he worked to one final thrust then collapsed onto me for a moment before he pulled from me and fell to the ground. I rolled onto my side, my hard, leaking dick between my thighs. I rolled to my back took hold of it, the hardest it had ever been, slick with spit. I stroked it with excited abandonment until it exploded up onto me, showered me with my  own ejaculate. Hit my chin and landed on my face, in my hair and on my lips. Splotches cooled on my chest, my stomach, and in my pubic hair. He moved close to me, kissed at my shoulder, my neck, so I rolled to him and kissed him back before turning away to let him move to my backside. His soiled dick pressed against my butt, his chest against my back. We fell asleep.