Oranges

He gripped the waist in front of him and hauled the younger body against his own, smelt its freshness, felt its warmth, felt its pliancy as it moulded to him. There was no shy uncertainty or hanging back, Jojo wanted contact, wanted to be held in a man's arms. Without a word passing between them he wrapped his arms about his neck and threw himself into a kiss. Marty's tongue at once probed into his mouth and the boy instantly caressed it with his own.

Tongues began swirling, wriggling and thrusting in a flurry of sexual excitement. As his hands skittered over Jojo's body and Marty marvelled at the sleek torso and chest in his embrace. It was just as lean and lithe as he had earlier imagined it to be. He pulled at the narrow waist, pressing against the yielding body to eliminate all space between them while his hands explored Jojo's youthful form and shamelessly pressed his hard thigh against his smooth flesh.

With their mouths melded together he fumbled with the front of Jojo's shirt, slowly working at the row of buttons as the kiss went on and on. Contact was finally broken as he scooped him up in his arms, and with a tiny cry of surprise at his tightened grip Jojo nuzzled his face against his neck.

Taking full advantage of his greater strength Marty reached around the back of him to squeeze his backside, and he felt it rotate in his grip, the skimpy pants the lad was wearing doing nothing to disguise the soft texture of the youthful anatomy they contained.

Hot with passion now he didn't hold back. He daubed the young man's face with saliva and left a wet trail across his fevered lips before his face dipped and he slid his mouth across the smooth, bare chest, inhaling the delicious aroma of his new little love pup. Perky alert nipples brushed his cheek when he began licking Jojo's firm pectorals, licking all around before pressing onto them, mouthing each nipple in turn, teasing and tasting them and then taking them into his mouth and sucking the small pink teats.

"Ooooohhhh!" Jojo moaned softly. "Oh yeah, suck my tits Marty, bite 'em a little bit, but don't do it hard."

The man's hands burrowed inside the young man's shirt and stroked his sides, and Jojo's dainty hands fluttered as he gripped the waistband of his pants and quickly slipped them down to expose the rest of his sleek body. Gorgeous! A pair of handsome balls lolled in the wrinkled bag of his scrotum, and above them - a beautiful, unashamed erect cock.

Marty's hands slid onto the tender skin of his inner thighs where he found the uncircumcised penis to be slightly curved, quite thick and with an impressive stand, already stiff with its foreskin rolled back to show a blushing pink tip. He held it in his hand and savoured the solid girth of its shaft before he began stroking it, watching the tip disappear and reappear as the soft fleshy foreskin melted against the shaft as he moved it up and down.

JoJo returned every move, running his hands over his man-friends ribs and torso and feeling the body heat beneath the fabric of his shirt before dropping onto the front of his corduroys. "Wow! That's some night-stick in you're carrying in your pocket, Marty. I knew you'd have something good."

Hands went straight in to unbuckle his belt and Marty heard the sharp intake of his own breath as they worked against the tight ridge of his abdomen. With a flick of his fingers and a wicked smile Jojo unhooked his trousers and unzipped them with tantalising leisure, casually brushing the back of his fingers against the hard length behind the corrugated fabric.

In complete surrender to his base desires Marty allowed him to pull the waist loose so he could slip them over his hips, but his swollen cock was a throbbing tower by then and the tip of it snagged on his briefs, so in the end he eased them down himself.

A delicious shiver ran the length of his spine as his pants went down and his fully hard cock sprang up, smooth and hard, a shaft of silky steel. Without the slightest hesitation Jojo took hold of it and began stroking, ringing it with his fingers and increasing the movements of his hand until Marty began to shake violently and felt compelled to grip the young man's hand tight around his slippery erection and hump into it.

His companion looped his arms about his neck, and Marty's fingers tangled in Jojo's hair as their mouths meshed and melted together again. Slowly they dropped to their knees and keeled over sideways in the grass, heads twisting, locked in a deep and passionate kiss, jolts of electricity sizzling between them as cock nudged against cock. Pressing forward aggressively Marty slipped his tongue between his young lovers fevered lips, tongue-fucking his mouth while JoJo sucked the tongue like it was a penis.

"Mmmm, ooooh!" Jojo's voice quivered like a fiddle-string as Marty reached out and rolled a pair of plump testicles in his hand. "Oooh, mmm!" he gasped again, legs pulled tight. He may have had the face of an angel, but his confidence and lack of hesitation gave the lie to his looks of innocence. There was clumsy fumbling. He'd done this kind of thing before, and he'd done it with men.

Marty's excitement took him beyond reason. Between his own legs a length of hard meat was jerking and throbbing with anticipation of unspoken promises. Jojo's eyes began to glaze and he drew back while gazing at the man-cock in his hand, admiring its size and solidness and watching in fascination as his fingers wrinkled down the foreskin to reveal the smooth, bulbous head. Marty's erection was angled slightly off centre, big, very big, standing out from a bush of black hair.

For a moment Jojo stared at the seminal ooze seeping from its tip. "Boy! Your prick's like a stick o' dynamite. I gotta do something with it before it explodes." With a burst of strength that was unexpected he rolled Marty onto his back and straggled his thighs as if he were mounting a horse, then grabbing Marty's erection with his slim fingers he tucked the tip of it between his buttocks. His eyes flickered momentarily as he pressed his body down, belly undulating, narrow hips screwing left and right as he slowly opened up and eased the head of Marty's dick through his outer sphincter.

"Umph!" He grunted and bucked as his rubbery spinster contracted and clamped tight. Every muscle in his body seemed to flex as he lifted slightly and then settled again to sink down on two additional inches. Marty was stunned by the accessibility. His dick was in no way a small item and he could only assume Jojo had done some early morning lubrication on himself to help things along later. That meant all that what was happening wasn't in the heat of the moment. It was pre-planned.

"Nnnngh!" The swooning partner sitting astride him struggled to get more and more cock into his narrow tunnel, and slowly, inch by inch Marty's cock sank right in. Jojo anal tract rippled down the length of his fat shaft - right down, until backside met balls. Pausing to let his bum get used to being stretched and occupied JoJo offered a smile. "Boy oh Boy! I didn't think I was gonna make it, yer big hunk. I didn't reckon was gonna be able to take it all."

Marty groaned too as he felt anal muscles flutter then hold him tight, then Jojo raised Marty's hands and placed them on his hips before slowly, deliberately beginning to rock back and forth, riding up and down, bouncing to savour the full extent of penetration. Every few moments he would lift up so that Marty could feel the ring of his sphincter hovering under the rim of his dick, then he'd go down again, squeezing with his insides and rippling his stomach muscles, working everything in unison to generate pleasure.

Marty made no protest. The way Jojo mixed the exuberance of youth with the delicacy and grace of a girl was beguiling. Every movement of his lithe form seemed done with canny awareness. The swing of his hips, the tilt of his head was posed, practised. Even now he still had the ability to amaze him. He was so casual about his homosexual actions. There was no hesitancy, no guilt, no self-doubt or remorse, he was utterly comfortable with the way he was. And experienced too, even skilled. Where had he acquired such knowledge and such confidence?

He was moving nicely now, all the time retaining Marty's swollen man-meat and sliding up and down its entire length, his tightly clinging anus clutching and caressing the thickness of his cock and sliding with the ease of a kid glove up and down the length of his hardness. With little spasms of delight and sensuous grinding of his buttocks Jojo was milking his dick with shameless skill, milking it with his asshole.

The man froze, muscles taut, eyes squeezed shut, and as his eyes rolled and he began to gasp. The younger man leaned forward and gasped with him. The initial discomfort had faded and his breath became shallow as he rasped in his throat.

"You like this, don't you. You enjoy young-ass moving up and down your prodder, don't you?"

He did like it. He liked the heat and the friction, and he loved shafting the sassy gay featherweight that had mounted on his dick. His rock-hard cock felt like a crowbar buried inside him, it was throbbing and tingling along its entire length, which made his balls draw up tight against his thick shaft.

"You've really got some cargo to unload, ain't you?" Jojo remarked whilst still steadily bouncing up and down. And he had. Eventually his body demanded to be allowed to empty. Eyes rolling, helpless amid his own pleasure he surrendered to the convulsions that accompanied his climax. "Ughhh! Aaaaah, ooooh!"

"Wow! Oh yeah, that's it" his partner enthused, "give it to me deep. Make me your girl."

As his prick pumped strongly upwards Marty blindly, almost without being aware, swung his hand over to waggle the stiff dick sticking out from the front of his partner. The young man's stomach heaved and an expression of surprise blossomed on his face. Then he shook like a leaf as a trace of clear fluid leaked out from the straining tip.

Within moments his solid organ throbbed tangibly and the man heard Jojo breathing quickly as it pulsated. Then he heard the him squawk, "Ooh, oooh, OOOOHH!" and he watched as with each exclamation a heavy shot of warm cream hosed from the bloated tip and slopped over his hand.

Jojo remained motionless for a moment afterwards, just flashed his big brown eyes and smiling with contentment as his sated gland slowly retracted into its soft sheath. Afterwards they lay side by side on the horse blankets for a while, content in a warm, sunny never-land bordered by severely regimented acres of orange orchards on one side and the unrevealed mysteries of a mangrove swamp on the other.

It was a world apart from the hustle of Chicago Marty had endured for so many years and he was enjoying a sweet way of life unknown to him. It was beautiful. The meandering little stream nearby was too fast running to harbour mosquitoes that would spoil things, and red-winged cardinals and flocks of ibis were flashing overhead.

What could be more ideal? he thought languidly as he observed the contrast between Jojo's naked form and the more rugged hairiness of his own thighs. He was in a paradise where a delicious looking young man, like some houri in a drug-induced dream, was eager to satisfy his every gratuitous urge. "Do you seduce every fella' you take to the groves? Marty asked him.

Jojo grinned. "Only the one's worth the trouble. It's unusual for a hunk like you not to be married, and it got me to thinking you preferred being with guys. I reckoned you to be gay, and I was right, wasn't I?" Marty declined to answer, but Jojo remained smiling. "It's okay. I'm glad. Things can get pretty dull around here. Gran'ma don't let me go into town alone, an' things can get pretty stale sometimes for a fella like me."

"You seem pretty experienced."

"I went to college in Tallahassee for a while. There were other frats like me there, all wantin' to try stuff. It got pretty wild some nights."

"Listen, it's going to poison your gran'ma against me if she hears about what we've just done."

"Don't worry Marty, I don't tell her about everything I do."

"Speakin' of poison, I'm feelin' vulnerable wearing so few clothes. This place is pretty, but its wild too. There's probably snakes around."

Jojo nodded. "Yep, there's plenty of coral's an' rattler's creepin' in the grass around here I guess, but I come here all the time an' I ain't been bothered by any yet." He served a wry glance at Marty's penis lolling between his legs, itself looking like a fat, olive-skinned viper. "The biggest risk to fella's around these parts comes from the spittin' cobra's guys carry in their breeches."

They both chuckled, it was all too weird. What had he got into by coming to Florida? What kind of a family did he belong to?

***

On his return to Pitterpeetee Marty found himself squarely cursing his own stupidity. How could he be such a numbskull? His aunt had brought him to there to make a judgement on him and discover if he was worthy of some inheritance - and within twenty-four hours of arriving he'd poked her beloved grandson in the ass.

Alone in his room he took a couple of slugs of whisky. He carried a bottle in his luggage. A day out in the sun seemed to have produced grains of grit between his eyeballs and the surrounding sockets. He would have liked to flop out on his bed, but he knew he must wash himself. Down the hall he turned the knob of the shower to hot, dumped his clothes and manoeuvred himself into the jet of water, massaging shampoo into his scalp then turning slowly like a kebab to rinse himself. When he was dry he inserted his body into clean clothes, not the crazy cowboy outfit.

Simple and uncomplicated, that had always been his motto. Then along comes Jojo and the world falls to pieces. Jojo was anything but uncomplicated. He was impulsive, carefree and as reliable as a new Swiss watch, but the ultimate temptation of him was putting at risk the best chance of getting rich quick the man from Chicago was ever likely to have.

On the way back that day they had been careless to the point of lunacy, pausing in the groves to lustfully suck each others mouths whilst still on horseback. They'd indulged in hot, buttery tongue-kisses out in the open. It had been irresponsible, and just luck that no one had been around to see them. He had to stop allowing that kind of thing. He was pretty certain Jojo wouldn't mouth-off about what had happened earlier, but he couldn't be absolutely certain. He'd arrived back from their day out together glowing with the kind of over-all bloom people associate with a freshly fucked girls, and people in such moods can get careless about the things they say.

In an effort to disperse his negative thoughts he went down for dinner much earlier than he needed. On the wall of an alcove in the hall hung a dusty old print of red Indians fighting with soldiers in a forest, the legend under it stated, 'Seminole Ambush on the Withlacoochee River, 1836.' There were no newspapers or magazines in the house and the only books he could find were a collection of ancient self-help manuals tucked on a shelf under the stairs.

Jesus Christ! That cranky old bitch of a distant aunt hadn't brought a new book into the house for the past fifty years. He found himself reading through dull accounts on geology, obscure items about diseases in cattle, and the importance of sanitation in the homestead, dated 1910. There was also a copy of James Brown's treatise on the planting and management of trees, which long ago had been heavily annotated in pencil along the margins of every page.

He stuffed it back onto the shelf. He was hot. He wanted to take his jacket off, but the old woman wouldn't approve of that during dinner. Hot though he was, there was a heavy cold weight in his stomach. He couldn't breathe properly. Something dark and chill had slithered down from his brain into his belly and stuck there, a cold, horror-laden lump. It felt like he'd swallowed a toad.

Once again black ideas swirled through his mind like a flock of startled crows. Was being gay still an offence in this part of the country? He didn't know, but he'd heard that some of these southern States still hung on to strange old fashioned ideas. Now he not only had to contend with losing Aunt Matilda's goodwill, he had to worry about being dragged off to jail by some hard-nosed sheriff or whatever else stood for law enforcement in this part of the country. With a shiver he wondered if convicts still formed chain-gangs in Florida.

Jojo appeared, dressed ready for dinner. Alpaca jacket and boot-lace tie, face scrubbed and smelling good with a great tumble of teased blond locks. He had all it took to be a man's best friend. Wishing for some reassurance Marty pushed his hands into his pockets. "Look, there's a problem about what we did earlier in the trees. I don't want you to mention anything about it while we're eating. Don't even smile at me across the table. I don't want what we did to be the cause of any unpleasantness with your gran'ma. Okay?"

Jojo listened with unconcealed curiosity, then smiled and shrugged. "Sure, Marty. I don't want to make trouble for anyone."

There, it was settled. Marty felt he could rest easier, put the event behind him and get back on track. But standing so close to Jojo he couldn't help his reactions. Another hot spot blossomed, tight pressure - one that quickly spread south. On an irrational impulse he slid a hand down to Jojo's crotch and felt the cock-shape in his trousers. His own cock stiffened. He pushed him against the wall, popped open some buttons and got in as far as the young man's shorts. "I want to fuck your face."

At that moment Abraham's dulcet tones crooned from the end of the narrow hall. "Um, 'scuse me, but the food is ready, gennelmen."

Matilda may not have been told of what had happened earlier, but dinner when it came was a stilted affair, made worse by the fact that he found it hard to look anyone in the eye. They started with crayfish and shrimps drenched with some kind of sauce, then moved on to a chicken and mushroom dish, but it could have been pizza or hamburger or a pot of chilli for all the taste he got out of it. His aunt seemed to eat quicker than she'd done the previous evening, and the reason for that came soon after the dessert had been cleared.

"You may leave the table, Joseph. Go upstairs, I want to talk to yur Uncle Mart'n alone," said Aunt Matilda. Her eyes swung over to Abraham who was standing by the sideboard. "You go too. I want some privacy here."

Marty's heart thumped. What was coming? he pondered as the others departed. What was so personal between himself and Aunt Matilda that she wanted the room cleared? He had a bad feeling about it, like he knew he was about to get the proverbial boot out the door.

His aunt dipped a spoon into her coffee-cup and stirred slowly, an unnecessary action since she took coffee black and unsweetened. "You were a long time in the groves today. I hope you figured it worthwhile. Not everyone enjoys the company of my grandson."

Marty smiled awkwardly. "Perhaps I shouldn't say this to you, it's not my business anyhow. I'm a guest here, and a stranger, but - I like Joseph." He tried to make his words light but there was a tiny catch in his voice that he couldn't disguise.

"I'm glad you like Joseph, he rewards all the care I expend on him." the woman replied. Then she gave him a deeper look. "Just why did you come here, Mart'n?"

"Why Aunt Matilda, I came because you invited me of course."

The old woman's mouth curved cynically, and when she looked at him he felt she was taking sight down the barrel of a gun. "You didn't come outta politeness. You came because you saw a chance of gettin' a piece of an old lady's estate when she passed on. Ain't that more the truth?"