It was the summer between my 9th grade and 10th grade year and the summer was beginning as usual. I had gotten a job loading hay for one of the biggest hay producers in the county and was very glad to get it. For a kid going on fifteen, it was a lot of money, although the work was hard and the temperature in Texas in the summer is very hot.
Shortly before school was out, I had made friends with a guy name Bill. Now, unlike Allan, and some of the other guys I fooled around with, Bill was straight, not that I didn't gobble down some straight cock every now and then, as most of you who have read the Texas Tails stories know.
Bill was a cute guy, about five feet five inches or so, dark-skinned, and as I would find out, had a nice cock, at least as good as mine, for a guy of fifteen. For some reason, I suspect because of his attitude toward gays, I just never had the desire to make a move on him.
About a week or so, after school let out for the summer, Bill and I met up at the Baseball Park at one of the Little League games. His younger brother and mine were on opposite teams so we had gone there to watch them play.
Our conversation during the game was pretty much what you would expect kids our age to be talking about. Who was doing what for the summer, who was going out of town, the usual stuff, and he even made some comments about a couple of the girls our age at the game. Of course, I played along, although I really wasn't interested, and agreed with Bill about how hot they were. Then, as you might expect, the conversation turned to how he was so horny and boy he would love to fuck this one girl.
"Well, I guess you will just have to jerk off when you get home!" I said.
"Nah, I got something better than that going!" Bill replied.
"What?" I asked, wondering what he could possibly have going for him along that line.
"You ever had a blow job?" Bill asked me.
Now I can tell you right there my heart skipped about two beats when he asked me that question. So I paused a few seconds before I answered.
"You want one?" Bill asked.
Again, my heart skipped a beat or two.
"Could this possibly be?" I thought.
"There is no way, as straight as this guy is he is asking you if I want him to give you a blow job!" My mind reassured me.
"Uh, yeah! Sure!" I replied.
I guess he could tell my the expression on my face what I was thinking and wondering because he looked back at me for a few seconds, then hauled off and hit my arm with his fist.
"Not me asshole!" He said, immediately after hitting me.
"There is this older guy. He gives blow jobs!" He said.
"Oh!" I responded, rubbing my now sore arm.
"I have been saving up for four days and I am going to go to his place tomorrow morning. You wanna go?" He asked.
"Sure!" I quickly responded.
Now my response was more out of curiosity than anything else because I had given quite a few blow jobs and received quite a few by that time. However, I had never had an adult touch me.
"Met me at my house on your bike at nine tomorrow morning!" Bill said.
"I will be there for sure!" I responded.
Talk quickly turned to other things and the game and not much was said about the next morning, except we said we would see each other the next day as we left the park.
True to my word, at nine the next morning I was at Bill's house, it was about a fifteen-minute bike ride to his house on the other side of town, and I knocked on the front door.
Bill's mom answered and told me his was out back in his room, and I knew that meant, because I had been there before, that he was out in the little room off of the garage that he had made into his own private room.
I opened the door, and Bill was putting on his jeans.
"Hey, you ready to get sucked?" He asked as I walked in.
"Okay, a few things I gotta tell you first!" He responded.
"This old guy has been blowing guys for years. In fact, my older brother and some of his friends used to go to his place. Jason told me about it." Bill offered.
I quickly put two and two together, and since I new Jason, Bill's older brother, was in his twenties, knew that the guy probably had been giving guys blow jobs for awhile.
Following Bill's lead, we peddled our bikes east down one of the larger streets, then down a couple of side streets, and then down gravel road, where we eventually ended up outside this cute little cottage type house.
"Here we are! You can just leave your bike here!" Bill said, as he got off his bike and laid it on the ground.
I did the same and followed Bill up the small steps to the front door, my heart racing ninety miles and hour.
"Mr. B! You in there! It's Bill!" Bill hollered and knocked loudly on the door jam.
"That's all anyone calls him is Mr. B!" Bill turned to me and said.
There was no reply, but soon I heard footsteps, then the knob to the door turned, and then the door opened.
A man, I guess in his early forties or so, and with brown hair, opened the door.
He wasn't nearly as "old" as my mind had made out from what Bill had told me about him. I had visualized someone with gray hair and wrinkled skin. Today, when I look back at it, the guy was really not bad looking at all.
"Uh, I brought along a friend!" Bill said, stating the obvious.
Mr. B looked at me, then giggled.
"Well, he looks like a fine one!" He said.
"You boys come on in!" He added, and opened the door wider.
Inside, the little cottage was quite small. The living room also seemed to serve as a bedroom, and immediately past that you could see that the next room was a kitchen, and then there appeared to be a small bathroom beyond that.
"Well, which one of you boys want to go first?" Mr. B asked.
"We'll flip for it!" Bill said, and reached I his pocket and pulled out a quarter.
"Tails!" I answered, as he tossed the coin into the air.
Bill caught the quarter and put it on his wrist and removed his hand.
Bill began to remove his tee shirt, then his shorts, and in no time he was naked. Naked and quite hard already.
It was the first time I had ever seen Bill hard, and I remember I was impressed that his cock was about the same length as mine, which meant he had right at six inches. In fact, about the only difference was that he was cut and I am not.
"Now you just get out of those clothes and sit right over there until Mr. B gives you your turn!" The man said.
While Bill got up on the bed, I began to strip, not noticing at first, that Mr. B was watching me.
"My my! He has a nice one!" Mr. B commented, as I pulled off my jockeys and my dick popped up and whacked my tummy.
I remember I blushed, and then moved over toward the stuffed chair and sat down.
Bill, by this time, was lying on the bed with his legs spread-eagled.
I watched, as Mr. B got up on to the bed, leaned over, took Bill's cock in his hand, and began to suck. It couldn't have been more than fifteen or twenty seconds, and the small room was filled with the sounds of Bill's groans.
I sat in the chair and watched, as Mr. B turned Bill's cock into a glistening shaft with his sucking and spit. For me, it too much. I reached down and began to play with myself as I watched Bill getting sucked.
"I wanna do it now!" Bill said.
I watched, wondering what that meant.
As Bill raised up in the bed, Mr. B rolled over on his back. Then, Bill moved over him, aimed his cock at his mouth, and began to face fuck him.
I played with my cock and watched, as Bill's tight butt flexed and un-flexed with the piston-like thrusts of his cock into the man's mouth.
"God! I wish it was me he was doing that to him!" I remember thinking.
Bill didn't last long. I what couldn't have been more than a few minutes or so it was obvious he was going to cum.
"Oh man! Here I go! Eat my cum!" He shrieked, then plunged as far as he could into Mr. B's mouth.
Bill continued to make fucking strokes, until he finally rolled off the man and onto his back with the guy following him down all the way.
Bill just lay there and moaned, while Mr. B continued to suck his cock dry.
Finally, Bill had enough, and he rose up and got off, the bed, and walked toward me, with his now half hard cock, swinging as he walked.
"He's all yours!" He said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
I climbed up on the bed and lay back. I guess, because I was trembling a little, Mr. B could tell that I was nervous.
"Hey relax Justin. Mr. B is going to take care of you just fine!" He said, as he reached his hand out and took hold of my cock and lowered his head.
"Oh I just love boys that are uncut!" He said, and I felt him pull my foreskin as far back as he could as he said it.
I gasped out loud, when he began to run his tongue all around and underneath the head. It wasn't long, before the room was filled with my groans and moans as they had been with Bill's. I turned my head toward the chair, and Bill, who was already hard again, was stroking his cock while watching us. Mr. B continued to suck and then began to move his hand up and down my cock as he sucked. My groans got even louder.
"You wanna go like your buddy or you this?" He asked.
"This is fine!" I replied.
At that, he began to work on my cock in earnest. It wasn't long before I could feel the cum boiling in my balls and starting its rise to get up and out of me.
"I am gonna cum!" I proclaimed.
And at that, Mr. B took my cock down to the pubes and began to work on me with the muscles of his throat, which at the age I was; I had never had anyone do to me before, not even Allan.
That was all it took. I squealed, and then panted as I shot six or seven times in his mouth.
As I was going over the top I could hear Bill moaning in the chair behind me and knew he had gotten himself off while watching us.
'You like that?" Mr. B asked, after he had milked every last drop he could get out of my cock.
Mr. B chuckled, then got up and walked over toward the chair where Bill was sitting.
"Looks like you need to be cleaned up!" He said, and I watched as he licked Bills pubes, groin, and stomach of all signs of any cum.
"Well, you boys are going to have to come back and see Mr. B again!" The man said, as we started to put all our clothes back on.
"Now you wait before you go! Mr. B has something for you!" He said, and headed back toward the kitchen. I looked at Bill, but before he could say anything, Mr. B re-entered the room carrying to brown paper sacks with the tops rolled shut.
"Now you take these along and come back and see me real soon!" He said, as he handed us the sacks. We left the cottage, the door shut behind us, and then we got on our bikes and rode back towards Bill's house.
"What's in the sacks?" I asked Bill, not having bothered to look.
"Probably some tomatoes and squash!" He replied.
"He always does that! Did the same with my brother and his friends too. He always gives you vegetables from his garden or home-made jelly to take home when you leave!" Bill stated.
"That's kinda nice!" I replied sincerely.
"Yeah, I guess so, for a queer!" Bill stated.
Today, of course, if someone made a comment like that, even a friend, I would call him or her on it. Back then, though, I kept my mouth shut. When you are not quite fifteen and gay in East Texas, you keep your mouth such about such things.
The rest of that summer, Bill and I visited Mr. B at least once or twice a week. And after each time, we took home some kind of vegetables from his garden when we left. But, after the summer was over, Bill moved out of town, and I never went back to Mr. B's.
The little cottage is not there anymore, as a matter of fact, a Super Wal-Mart and shopping center occupies the spot where it once stood. Yet, over the years I have thought off and on about that episode in my life and have wondered, at times, whether I should have felt sorry for Mr. B and whether or not I was taking advantage of him.
For some reason, I don't think that I was. For I do know, without a doubt, that for many more years he got to suck all the horny and hard teen cock anyone could ever want to suck. In fact, I even overheard my younger brother and one of his friends, almost ten years later, talking about Mr. B. and knew immediately what was going on when my brother began to bring home vegetables that summer.
As for me, well I got paid for sex the only time in my life, and to this day, when I am shopping in the produce section of the supermarket, I cannot help but smile and remember back to the summer that I was "doing it" for veggies.
I wonder if Mr. B realized he has provided me with so many happy memor ies
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