Colrain

"Sure. About what?" He slipped a bookmark, careful guy that he was, he would have a proper bookmark for his reading, into his book and set it on his side table next to a reading lamp, the only light on, which cast a scattered glow around the rest of his bedroom.

It sure looked to me like he was sporting an erection underneath the covers, but I wasn't going to say anything.

"The farm. And the future." He nodded.

"Both of ours." I added. He nodded again.

"Pops is going to want one of us to continue." I paused, knowing I was stating the obvious. "I don't think it is going to be me. Not so sure for you either. Any chance you are going to take it over?"

He shook his head. "No way."

He looked at me. "I was pretty sure you had gone and left Colrain for good. I don't think I have it in me to stay either. It's a lot of work for not much money."

"Pops is not going to be happy. With either of us."

He grunted. "Right. But I think he's known that for awhile. Not a surprise to him."

We talked about the future of the farm. We acknowledged all that Pops had done, but also that it was "his thing" not ours. We convinced ourselves that continuing the farm was important only if one of us was committed to it, or interested, or motivated. But each of our lives were going somewhere else, out of Colrain.

"So what do you propose?" He looked at me quizzically, like I might have a plan. I didn't.

"I don't know. I am not sure diary farming in New England has an amazing future, but I may be wrong. Mostly, for me, the rest of the world is calling."

We looked at each other.

"UMass going okay for you?" This wasn't a direct change of subject.

"Okay. You know Pops wanted me in ag-business of course, but I was able to wrangle a deal. I knew I wouldn't have any trouble with business math, just that it is all applied. And I am more interested in theoretical aspects."

"Or at least something more compelling than grain balance sheets? Milk price fluctuations?" I asked.

He laughed. "Right."

"So the deal was that Pops let me be a math major. I have to keep my GPA above 3.5. It is going to be tough, some of those courses in the major are brutal. If I slip below that in the first two years, then I agreed to shift to ag-business, but I'm damned if I will let that happen."

"Then what?"

"I am not sure. I want, and need, to explore the field more in order to be able to tell you. Mathematics has use in a thousand different careers. But it is a whole different world, and I think I have what it takes, although I will tell you some of the guys, and it is mostly guys, I have run across in my classes are amazing. Smart and motivated, extraordinary focus, and work hard at it all too. A little intimidating, to tell the truth."

"I am sure you will do fine." I shifted topic slightly again.

"You and Stephanie doing okay with the changes?" I knew I had asked earlier, but I wanted a fuller answer now.

He made a face I could not quite read. Not annoyed, not defensive, maybe puzzled.

"Sorta. She's in the same boat as us."

I looked at him blankly.

"Her dad wanted her to go on to vet school, to take over the practice here in town after him."

"Does she want to do that?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"The Wentworths got a pretty good empire."

He laughed. "Right. How far do the boundaries go? Not quite to Greenfield, with all those big, long, flat fields full of fat cow money. But good enough."

"But I meant more you and Stephanie together. You been together, what, almost two years now?"

He nodded.

"You guys done it yet?" I purposely took a casual tone, like I was asking about whether the lower fields needed another mowing or not.

New Englanders aren't known for registering emotional states. Not something practical to show. When you are negotiating tractor prices you don't exhibit any excitement. Last thing you want to do.

But the look he sent me told all sorts of things. Probably not a question I should have asked.

"No. She's pretty set nothing can happen until the big event." I knew he meant a wedding.

"She even interested? Say there was nothing else preventing it all?"

He looked at me oddly. "I am not sure."

"I saw your prick today."

He started, and his face turned color.

"Up by the goat shed. I was tending to a fence post by the back lot."

He looked at me evenly.

"Stephanie didn't look all that excited about seeing it."

He laughed. "No she didn't."

"She had her fingers on it anyway, that has got to be worth something."

"I wish. I'll level with you Carl, that's as far as we have ever gone."

"No shit. How 'bout that. I was sure you guys had done a little more."

"You were plenty stiff," I added.

"I had been hoping to coax her into the shed, onto a back hay pile, but she wasn't gonna be convinced. There is nowhere at her place for any privacy, and what with us being apart a month and all, I thought I might have a chance."

I judged by the look on his face it might be a good idea to shift the discussion, although I was having a hard time getting the image of his erection out of my mind.

"What are you reading?"

I looked at the cover of his book. Tropic of something or another.

"Henry Miller."

"Highbrow?"

"Some think so."

"Do you?"

"Not convinced."

"Isn't it considered racy? Stroke material?"

"Maybe to some."

I paused again. The sheet covering his lower body did not conceal his obviously stiff penis, clearly outlined in the thin cotton. I couldn't help myself.

I almost hesitated, but if I have learned anything in the army, it is that you don't hesitate when your instinct kicks in.

I smoothly and deliberately pulled his bedsheet off.

He slept naked I guess, not even any underwear on. His penis was right there, pointing stiffly upwards.

He looked at me, surprised and annoyed at first, but then I thought maybe he looked a little proud too. I didn't blame him, it was a fine looking tool.

I gave him a look that said "sorry for that." Didn't need to voice it, he knew.

"Talking about Stephanie get you that way?" I asked.

"No," he looked sheepish. "Pretty much a constant state. Must be for you too? Even in the army and everything?"

We had never talked about sex. This was interesting territory, for both of us.

"Yes, of course."

We both looked at each other for the longest time, not quite sure where the next words were going to take us.

"Let me tell you something," I began. "You may not want to hear it, but there are likely a lot of girls at UMass who would be tickled to do something nice to that cock of yours."

I pointed to it for effect. "Not everyone is like Stephanie."

"Yeah, I pretty much expect that is true."

"You tempted?"

He looked like he was going to shake his head, but didn't.

He looked at me closely.

"You done the deed, Carl?"

"Yeah."

"More than once?"

"Plenty." I was aware I was big brother talking.

We stared at each other.

This was the point that things got a bit dicey. Here's my kid brother, a virgin, maybe not a desperate virgin, but a frustrated one. Maybe there is no other kind? I don't know.

He ought to know that there were possibilities more intriguing than Stephanie out there. That there was wing-stretching he could do, more intimate navigations in the works than anything he had done before.

"But let me tell you something. Fucking is great," I lowered my voice. "But there are even better things."

His eyes widened.

"There are just so many fine ways for a girl to play with a prick," I continued, like I was some sort of elder statesman with vast experience. I guess in comparison to him that was true.

"Everything that you have done to yourself," I pointed at his prominent erection, "someone else can do too. And better."

"And like I said, fucking is nice, but there are even better things." I was aware of repeating myself.

"Like what?"

"Getting sucked. Probably the sweetest thing ever invented."

He swallowed hard.

"What's it like?"

"Well, okay, you can imagine what the original penis receptacle is like -- a moist, constrictive, welcoming cunt."

He shook his head sadly.

"No, wish I could."

"Well, a mouth is all of those things, and more. You got a girl's tongue, to do wonderful things all over your prick. There are her hands, which can fondle your balls, play with you when her mouth is elsewhere. It is easier to go longer, or rather, it is possible to go longer that way, if she's got you in her mouth."

"And the ending is otherworldly."

He looked up at me, searchingly.

"The spunk though? In fucking, you got the normal destination, or you got a condom on or something."

He made a face. "But sucking?"

"A talented girl will take it all in. I tell you, it is the best of all worlds."

The envy in his eyes was unmistakable.

I looked at his dick. I looked remarkably like mine. Same rounded head, same length, maybe his ballsac was a little fuller, but the guy exceeded me pretty much everywhere else too.

I took a deep breath.

"Do you want me to demonstrate?" I asked softly.

His penis looked beautiful.

His gaze to me was long and even, it looked like a million thoughts were running through his head.

"So's you'd know what it's like," I added.

He stared at me hard. We were right at the precipice of something, neither of us quite willing to look over the edge.

I hadn't come up to his room to do this, the idea only just came to me while seeing him stiff. And our talking. And my last night at home, last bit of freedom. A restless desire that defied analysis.

"You have done this, Carl?"

"Yeah, Possum. Both done and have done to me."

"Two guys together?"

It was hard to read his expression.

"More that it's two erect penises aching for relief together, actually." I looked at him.

"You get horny in the best of times, Brad, I suspect you know that. In the service, it's all even more magnified, everything larger than usual, appetites, the desire for some release, no matter how. And you never know when it might be the last time. For release it is not uncommon to take the 'shortest exit off the highway' approach."

"Any port in a storm?" His eyebrows arched.

"That's the navy, but you have the right idea."

He laughed, and a little bit of the tension in the room dissipated.

"Are you queer, Carl?"

This was a searching look.

We stared at each other for longer than comfortable.

"No." My answer was even.

He relaxed, this was what he wanted to hear, although I would have squared with him regardless.

I pulled out my own cock, slowly, deliberately. I was hard myself. I had gotten aroused in our talking, and seeing his own handsome erection.

The reading light from his bedside table cast an eerie glow on my penis. It gleamed, the veins showing in relief, my balls all drawn up tight. There were two hard, anxious, brotherly pricks in the bedroom.

I waited, and while he looked at it, I contracted my anus and bobbed my cock a couple times, stiff like a rod. I knew that the sight of an erection often could have a remarkable effect on girls and even the straightest of guys. Knew that for many folks, seeing an intimate part of someone, not something normally out in the open -- the glimpse of a nipple past a blouse edge on a girl bent over, the flash of someone's ass cheeks poking out from their cutoffs -- that was enough to do strange and unusual things to one's thoughts, nudge them in an irresistible direction.

He stared at it and swallowed.

"So do you want to know what being sucked is like, Possum? You won't believe how good it is."

It was almost as if we were like two kids on a see-saw together, equally balanced, right at the fulcrum point. One tiny movement from either of us and the balance would shift.

I waited.

I could hear the crickets outside, through his open window.

He gave a quick look towards his bedroom door, and I had my answer, even before he croaked out an uneasy and tentative "Okay."

I turned and walked over to his door, latched it shut. Mom and Pops were down for the count, the chances of them waking up in the night, short of some disaster like a tree branch falling and clobbering the roof, were just about zero. But it would be better to secure the door anyway.

Walking back towards him I watched him stare at my erection as it waved from side to side. I stood in front of his bed and removed my clothes, shirt, pants, drawers. His eyes had an uncertain look to them, but I recognized desire. I had seen that before, in lots of folks. There were now two rock-hard penises in the room. Both looked good.

I stood there, hands on my hips, and waved my prick back and forth like a talisman. He couldn't keep his eyes off it.

His prick looked just like mine. Straight, no curve. The head rounded, taut, expectant. Even his balls looked a lot like mine, pulled up heavy in their ballsac. Maybe not as much hair.

I reached over to touch his erection.

I felt his body tense, but his eyes went to his penis, as I ran a finger along the outside of his shaft, root to piss slit.

"Stephanie has no idea what she's missing," I said, which made Brad laugh.

"Mind if I slide in next to you?"

He made room for me, scooting over, his own prick wagging stiffly.

I am not sure why, since it is extremely rare for me to say much when being intimate with anyone, I am mostly your silent-but-attentive type, but I started talking while I did stuff to him. Maybe it was mentoring or something, but it was uncharacteristic.

Despite my own excitement, which was acute for all manner of reasons, I talked Brad through the routine while I fondled him. Told him about the best penis play-times I'd had since high school. How various girls had handled me, sometimes alike, sometimes differently, but always with the same explosive, satisfying result.

"An erect prick really has no conscience," I said. I had heard that phrase more than once myself, and it occurred to me it had always been said to me by another guy, almost like an excuse, a releasing from a vow or perceived rule. And here I was using it myself, for my own purposes.

His penis felt real nice in my hands. I talked while I ran fingertips up and down his shaft, under his balls, rolling along the sides of his prick-head. He was liking it, no question, his own hands clutching onto the bedsheets to his sides, hips moving more and more as I hit good spots.

"You shouldn't be afraid to tell the girl what you like, what feels good," I said. "They won't mind, although the silent feedback they get from your body will usually be sufficient for any girl who's half-way attentive."

"And the best part is drawing it out," I said. "As long as you can. The most beautiful event in the world." I almost whispered this part.

Brad's eyes were closed, his body tense. I decided I would give him a taste, let him feel it all slowly.

I bent over and gave the slightest little lick to the tip of his penis. His whole body tightened, and I felt his prick bob with a twitch. Although the preliminary fluid had already been oozing, this little tongue touch coaxed forth more, and the taste, as always, was intoxicating.

I raised my head and Brad opened his eyes. We looked at each other.

"All that fluid? Good stuff. It will be real handy the first time you get up a girl," I said.

"But now, it just adds to the wetness." I looked down at his cock, stiff, the bedside light casting a lovely glow over it, highlighting some parts, casting intriguing shadows over others. It looked just like mine. It would be like sucking myself.

I leaned over and ran my tongue over his tip again.

Then I let my lips glide over the side of his cock-head, until that, and only that, was inside my mouth. He squirmed in pleasure.

I let it stay inside, barely moving, just the smallest little lip sucklings along the edge of his engorged head.

But he was ready, far too ready. If I had wanted to, I could have gotten him off in half a minute of sucking, but I didn't want it to end that quickly.

I detached from his prick-head and used my tongue to lick him, teasing, up and down his shaft, each side, avoiding the head completely, did this for a couple minutes, then raised my head again. His eyes were shining as he looked at me.

"One more thing, which the girls won't know 'til much later with you, unless you tell them or they have some experience, is your balls. Testicle attention. You can draw things out a bit by having them attend to you there. Let me show you."

I settled between his legs, which he spread for my better access. I proceeded to lick his balls, damn they were just like mine, maybe a little bigger, maybe a little less furry, but awful close. Licked his scrotum, took each egg into my mouth for a gentle tonguing. Some guys don't like this part much, but I reckoned he would be the same as me in this department, and judging by his hip movements, that much was true.

The smell and feel of a full set of balls in your mouth, your nose pressed into a crotch, is splendid, and I tongued and suckled him good. This would allow his prick to stay hard for another stretch and prolong his pleasure.

But finally I had to come back up, both for air, and to pull one of his groin hairs out of my mouth. I examined it carefully, the same curly kink to it and color as my own.

"You ready for the best ever climax of your life?" I asked.

He nodded and closed his eyes.

It took very little effort, as I knew he was close. I took his cock-head into my mouth, went up and down a few times, rummaging his balls at the same time with my hands while he pressed his hips into me, and lingered at his head for a good go-around. Back down and up, faster now, felt the head get just a bit tauter and larger in my mouth, wet and sucking all the time, and he went off.

First spurt was good, second and third even more, good strong pulses of sperm into my mouth. I held his balls, swallowed and kept sucking, until his movements died down, and I felt the tension resolve. I suckled for another minute or so, until I sensed the contact had become uncomfortable, and left off.

We both looked at his prick, visibly softening, all wet and spent.

We looked at each other, his chest was still going in and out, deeper breaths but not as frequent.

He didn't have the guilty, ashamed look that sometimes guys get the first time, mostly just that warm ecstatic expression that comes with a good, thorough discharge of semen.

I sat next to him on the bed, our backs up against the headboard, and we compared our pricks. One rapidly losing its tension, my own hard -- it had gotten harder as I had worked Brad, my own excitement growing as his did.

But except for the difference in engorgement, they looked just alike. Our hips had the same bone structure, same body hair color, we were in pretty much the same positions on the bed.

"You've gotten wet too," he said finally, pointing to the little drop of precum at the tip of my prick.

"Yeah. Unless you have just come yourself, it is pretty hard not to get excited when you are giving someone else pleasure," I said. "Doesn't matter whether it is a girl or a guy, something about someone else's arousal that makes you excited too."

He watched my penis, pointing straight up, and reached over to feel it.

I was my turn to inhale deeply. Brad's fingers on my own penis. An unimaginable thought even a few hours ago.

He began to toy with it, maybe how he played with his own, slowly and gently at first, then with more familiarity, fingers running softly up and down my shaft, along the edge of my cock's head.

"Should I suck you?" He looked over at me, eyes questioning.

"That's up to you," I said. "Whatever you want. I'd like it though. I will tell you this. It wasn't 'til I had sucked another man's dick that I learned a pile of things. If nothing else, it will let you know how to guide someone else doing you. I learned how to give another guy pleasure, but it also let me know the best ways to do that, and that was handy too."