What They Don't Know

The geezer drove Josh to the World War II war memorial in Bedford and left him there for his next and last hookup, which was with Gavin Greeley, another farmer, middle aged, fat as a pig, and big and strong as an ox. En route on the twenty-seven-mile drive from Bedford into the center of Roanoke in a double cab Ford 250 truck, Greeley pulled off the highway at a small manufacturing building that was deserted and for sale, drove beyond that, and stopped at a small grove of trees by a pond. He took Josh into the backseat of the truck. He too wanted to strip and fondle Josh and have Josh suck his cock. And then he lay back along the seat and Josh rode his cock in a cowboy position, leaning back and supporting himself on his hands gripping the fat man's knees. In this position, Greeley's belly didn't get in the way and he achieved maximum penetration.

The cock wasn't taxing, and the man didn't last long before coming. He was good enough to get Josh off too, gently pushing the young man's torso back after he'd come himself so that Josh was lying between the man's legs, his own legs still bent back, and Josh handed his cock. Greeley wrapped his hand over Josh's, and, together, they slowly jacked the young man off.

Naked, they walked down to the edge of the pond and skipped some rocks along the surface as Greeley talked to Josh how he'd come to go with men, in the army, when he was serving in Germany—and reminiscent about a German youth, looking quite a bit like Josh, who he had found in a male brothel and visited often.

The talk—and Josh's familiarity with a youth Greeley fondly remembered—helped the man build up steam again and then it was up to the shadows of the trees, where Josh stood, bending over and grasping his ankles with his hands, in a position Greeley said he took the German youth in frequently, as Greeley saddled up behind him, used Josh's lower back for a shelf for his belly, grasped Josh's hips between his hands, thrust up inside the nineteen-year-old and fucked him a second time, rocking Josh's buttocks back and forth on his cock. His cock was the nicest aspect of him.

Although Josh wondered if he'd come across with the agreed fee, Greeley doled out $200 in tens, fives, and ones before driving him into Roanoke and saying, in parting, "Any time you have a hankering to come this way, just let me know. You're a real honey. I hope I didn't call you Gerhart any time while I was screwing you. I felt like doing so. You brought a lot of old memories out of me."

"Uncle" Paul picked Josh up at the Roanoke Greyhound Bus station, drove him to his farm in Vinton, and, first thing, took him upstairs. As the fifth man of the day, Paul fucked the hell out of Josh, bouncing him up and down on the squeaky coils of his old brass-headed bed. Josh and Paul were a good pair in bed. God knows they got enough practice. Josh had stripped and laid on the bed while Paul was checking to make sure he'd put another towel in the bathroom. He laughed when he came back in the room to find the teenager naked on the bed. He sat on the side of the bed and, enticed by the smooth, unblemished skin of the young man's legs, ran a hand between Josh's closed thighs. He laughed as Josh opened his thighs to the hand, dug his heels into the mattress, and elevated his pelvis. Paul came up onto the bed, between the young man's parted thighs. Josh grimaced, turned his head to the side, and emitted a low moan as Paul slid inside him. Then, neither one of them were laughing for a long while.

Paul didn't pay Josh a damn thing for the fucking, but he did take the money Josh had earned hitchhiking from Farmville and order the Xbox One console for Josh that he wanted. In exchange for a couple of fucks a day, which Josh enjoyed as much as Paul did, Paul drove him all the way back to Farmville two weeks later and helped him get the Xbox up into the treehouse without Josh's parents being any wiser it was there while they both were at work. Josh worked hard on Paul's farm when they weren't fucking and he returned to Farmville muscled up a lot better than when he'd left.

The guys in Mason Young's men-on-guys group marveled at how quickly Josh was developing the physique of a man the Saturday night after he came back to Farmville, as, one after the other, they screwed him on the pool table in a basement recreation room. But, if truth be known, they all would have preferred that he'd kept his sleek, willowy little body.

His parents thought he was at an orientation program for the incoming freshman class at Longwood University. What they didn't know . . .