I held up my hand for Bill to stop; the tape in my small recorder was full and I needed to change it. Besides, I had to take a leak as well. It was a good place to stop. I quickly changed the tape, labeled the used one while Bill and Dan stood and stretched. Lee disappeared somewhere, perhaps to fix more drinks, I thought. I could really have cared less at this point in time. I had to piss so bad the end of my dick hurt!
Dan pointed down the hall when I asked where the bathroom was located and I scooted! The door to the bathroom was partially open and before I even got inside, I had my pants unzipped and my aching cock out, gripping it tight in my right hand to stop any leakage. Once inside the door I realized I wasn’t alone; Lee was standing at the toilet, casually holding onto his own penis- pissing a steady stream!
It was too late to turn around, let go, tuck it in, or anything except advance forward toward the pot. Less saved the day, saying, “Better you piss in the toilet, Chad; the boys might get a mite upset if you piss on the floor,” and stepped to one side to give me room next to him.
Once I pointed my pecker toward the pot and let go, piss flowed out of me like water from a deluge gun on a pumper fire truck! God, it felt so good! I tried looking up, anywhere but down, as much as I wanted to take a good look at what I’d just glimpsed coming in the door. I looked up at Lee, saw he was looking at what was sticking out of my fly, so I felt turn-about was fair play and took a careful, not just a precursory look at his!
We both said, “Nice” at the same time. I think the word to describe his cock would be “perfection,” a word often overused when describing someone else’s male appendage, but to me it was! Uncut, slightly darker in color than the rest of him (that which I could see), well-formed, the veins prominent on the shaft, velvety smooth looking with no blemishes formed on its considerable length, and a nicely shaped foreskin which extended beyond the end of his cock-head by a half an inch or so, forming a perfect funnel from which a golden stream currently gushed. Flaccid, it was probably six inches or so and thick in girth. His balls were concealed from my view, but I was curious if they were comparable in size to his dick. I also wondered if he was a “show-er” or a “grow-er.” If he was a grower, I’d be willing to bet when he got a hard-on all the blood rushed from his head and he passed out! He reminded me of the brat-sized appendage I’d seen tucked down the pants leg of bicyclist I’d seen a couple of days before on my way here. I could muster six inches, hard, if I poked a finger up my butt and hollered “snake,” but that was it!
He finished first, shook it after skinning the head back, slipped the cover over the head, tucked his horse back in the barn, washed his hands, and left. I was disappointed he didn’t ask me to help, but that was okay for the time being; I didn’t want to appear wanton or eager! I had a notion he might be gay, but why take a chance? It was just as well he did leave because by the time the bathroom door shut, I was as stiff as a railroad spike, but not quite as big. Finished with my chore, I decided I didn’t want to wack it off here, so I just stepped over to the sink, ran the water until it was really cold, stood on my tiptoes, and stuck the head of my cock into the cold stream. Well, that deflated it some; next time however, if there is a next time, I’ll remember to drop my pants first!
No one said a word about the damp spot on the front of my britches when I sat down, except Lee did smile coyly at me. Damn, there’s something about him that is so familiar, especially the way he walks.
Dan, Bill, and Lee all had fresh drinks and someone had provided me with a fresh glass of ice water, which I greatly appreciated. I regretted not having it while in the bathroom, but I could drink it instead. As we settled back, tape recorder running, note pad in hand, I listened quietly as Dan took up the story.
I walked back to the truck where Gary, Samuel, and Ross waited for me. Gary, born in 1925, was just twenty-one and the only one of us that had a license to drive- not that it stopped me however. Samuel was about six months older than me and Ross about two years younger, so they couldn’t get a license either; didn’t stop them from driving a truck or a tractor either. No one ever bothered to stop us, if we were out driving around, to check if I had a license or not.
Gary had returned home from the army about ten months previously. He’d been stationed in France in some sort of rear echelon job so he wasn’t on the front lines. He learned a lot in France and it wasn’t all military stuff. What he did learn was what he liked to do best when he was at home. Gary had to keep it secret while in the service or they’d have booted his ass out or shot him, I don’t know which.
Dan stopped suddenly, looked at me, and asked, “You’re gay aren’t you?”
Although I thought I’d made it quite clear when they questioned me earlier in the day, I nodded my acknowledgement and both men laughed, uproarishly!
Lee, puzzled at the sudden outburst and question, furled his eyebrows and forehead, asking, “What’s so damned funny about being gay? That makes four of us in this room alone!”
Okay, that answered one question for me concerning Lee; I needn’t worry about ogling a straight guy’s cock and getting my headlights punched out in the process!
“Nothing at all,” said Dan reassuringly, “you’ll have to ask Chad about it someday. It’s kind of an inside joke,” and continued his story.
We all knew growing up Gary loved younger boys or guys. He never missed a chance to stick his cock up one of our butts if we let him. He wasn’t forceful or aggressive; if you told him “no” he respected your wishes. There were boys around town and in La Crosse who would drop their pants willingly if Gary wanted a fuck or two. When he was drafted and went into the army, we wondered how he’d survive without a set of pillowy boy buns to dine on or sink his shaft into!
After he came home, one night after pumping Sam full of little wigglers, he told us while he was overseas in France there were boys all over willing to do almost anything for a chocolate bar, canned food, or the American script the soldiers used for money. He said on one weekend furlough in Paris, he fucked two pre-teen boys each three times a night for two nights. I never did really believe him. I figured his dick would wilt after a while and it would be like stirring soup with a wet noodle. I also figured he’d better dick Sam while he could, because Sam was starting to take an interest in girls and would soon leave his older brother high and dry. I hoped Ross was up to taking that big sausage up his chute.
The cab of the pickup was crowded with four of us in it so Ross sat on my lap. As we bounced along the road on the way home, his butt cheeks would rub my crotch and I was as hard as a fence post thinking about Billy Iverson! I just couldn’t get him off of my mind! I so much wanted to hold him, kiss him, and have him love me in return, but I just wasn’t certain how to go about it.
As I squirmed, trying to keep from firing bullets in my bibbies, Gary figured out what the problem was. “Cute as hell, isn’t he?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” I answered without thinking, “cutest damned boy I’ve ever seen!”
“Well,” offered Gary, sadly I thought, “take your time and make him happy.”
“Yeah,” chimed in Ross, still wiggling and jiggling on my lap, “don’t fuck him on the first date.”
The three of them roared with laughter as we bounced up the lane to the house. I didn’t think it was near as funny as they did, but I smiled anyway. I knew there was no way I was going to do anything with Billy he didn’t want to do or be forced into doing.
I was really distracted doing chores, but I managed to get my share done, and during supper, my distraction continued. Aunt Agnes noticed it, but said nothing until supper was done and we were cleaning up. It was my turn to help with dishes; I always washed when it was since I hated drying and putting everything away. Aunt Agnes sat on a stool near the sink and supervised the operation. With as many people as we feed, it takes a bunch of food every meal and one hell of a lot of dirty dishes, pots, and pans. Sometimes she has help from Carl’s and David’s wives, but they have little ones to feed also. Carl and David and their family shared the “hired man’s” house just across the farm yard from our big house and sometimes have meals with us. Their house is only four bedrooms but plenty enough room for them.
When I finished the last of the pots and pans and drained the water, she asked me to stay in the kitchen after the other’s left. I was more than a little curious why, since I couldn’t think of anything I’d done to get me in trouble.
We sat together, each on a stool, and she smiled at me, asking, “Did you meet someone special today?”
I didn’t think when you’re lovesick it showed, but I guess it did and she recognized it. Man, it was like the flood gates opened on the lock and dam at Genoa and I just unloaded! I told her I’d met the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen and I so much wanted him to like me, but I didn’t know how to go about it. What if he didn’t like me back? What if he would end up like Samuel, liking girls someday? How could I ever survive without him? I had all the questions, but none of the answers and I was scared almost shitless!
“Who is this ‘most gorgeous boy in the whole world’?” she asked softly, trying to comfort and reassure me.
“Billy Iverson,” I responded, my eyes shining and my face bright with a smile. “He lives with his mom and Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson.”
Aunt Agnes was quiet, almost pensive, as she considered who I’d met and how I felt about him.
“He’s younger than you, isn’t he?”
I nodded slowly, but said with eyes wide open, “But that didn’t make any difference for you and Uncle Henry, did it?”
“No, Danny, it didn’t,” she said carefully, “but we were a man and a woman who fell in love. It’s a little more difficult and sometimes dangerous when it’s two boys who fall in love. Do you think he likes you?”
I shrugged my shoulders in doubt and could feel tears forming in my eyes, and answered, my voice breaking, “I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t!”
Aunt Agnes stood, put her arms around me, and hugged me to her breast. “Just be yourself, Danny and if he likes what he sees, all will be well. If you’re not the one for him, he’ll let you know straight-away – don’t you think?”
I nodded in agreement but silently, deeply inside me, I was hoping against hope, so to speak. Billy Iverson just had to like what he saw because I sure as hell did when I looked at him! I just wanted to touch him, hold him, and love him!
The next morning, after chores, I asked Aunt Agnes if I could go to town and see if Billy couldn’t come out and spend the day. She raised her eyebrows and said it was fine with her, but it was up to his mother whether or not he could come out.
“George Sorenson, Billy’s grandfather, doesn’t have a very high opinion of the Randal’s, I’m afraid, so don’t be surprised if the answer is no,” she cautioned.
I begged Gary to drive me to town to the Sorenson house. For once he didn’t want anything in return, like a blow job or something. My legs were shaking as I walked up to the front door of Billy’s house and my stomach was as jittery as a lone mouse in a room full of hungry cats. I was so nervous I damned near pissed my pants when George Sorenson answered my knock on the door.
When I asked for Billy, he looked me up and down very carefully, like I was a used car or livestock he was going to buy. Evidently I passed inspection because he cleared his throat with a “harrumph,” turned slowly, and said loudly into the house, “Billy, it’s that Fielding Boy at the door for you!”
With that, he excused himself as he walked around me, down the sidewalk, and headed for the Post Office. Billy came running to the door, dressed in shorts and a tee-shirt again. I giggled and grinned at the sight of him.
“Hi!” I said softly in greeting.
He grinned and answered a shy “Hi” back at me.
I took a deep breath and asked, “Can you come out to the farm for all day? You’ll be home for supper if your mom asks.”
His eyes widened in excitement, invited me in, and answered, “I’ll go ask!” and scurried away. I waited patiently in the front entryway of the house and looked things over best I could. It was smaller house than ours and gave the appearance the Sorenson’s had a lot more money than we did. Everything was neat and tidy; not like our house. Of course there were only four of them and a hell of a lot more of us, but we were happy! I could hear him talking to his mother in some other room and finally heard say she wanted to talk to me before she said it was okay.
She came out into the entryway and introduced herself. I could see where Billy got his good looks. If I was into girls or older women, she would have caught my attention, but it was her son I was more than interested in. She wanted to know if Aunt Agnes was home and approved. I was polite and quiet like when I answered she was and really thought it would be nice if Billy came out for the day, if his mom approved. She thought about it a minute and nodded her head approvingly, but cautioned me to be careful he didn’t get into mischief or get hurt.
“Mrs. Iverson,” I said sincerely, “the last thing in the world I’d do would be to hurt Billy or let anyone else hurt him either!”
She folded her arms, smiled pleasantly at me, and nodded, saying, “You know, Danny Fielding, I believe you and I think everyone else would believe you as well. It’ll be nice knowing someone will be around that can help him make new friends and act as a big brother to him. But please have him home by supper.”
I wanted to be more than a big brother to him, but I didn’t tell her that!
She turned to Billy, saying, “You need to put on some shoes and a cap before you leave. I won’t have you running around a farm with no shoes on.”
Billy nodded, gave his mom a big hug and told her thanks and then motioned for me to follow him to his bedroom. It was in the back corner of the house, with windows on two sides for summer breezes to blow through. It was smaller than our room at home, but there was only one of him. Gary, Samuel, Ross, and I all shared one room with two beds. Billy’s room had one double bed in it, a dresser and a chair. He quickly put on a pair of black lace-up tennis shoes, scrunched a baseball cap on his head, grabbed my hand, and announced happily, “Let’s go!”
He sat in the middle of the truck seat and didn’t object when I put my arm around him. In fact, he just scooted closer to me. He felt so warm snuggled up against me; so great a feeling, having him so close, I popped a boner! It was pretty obvious and he noticed it right off. He raised up in the seat so he could whisper in my ear.
“You got a stiffy, Danny!”
Embarrassed, my face red, I just nodded.
“Me too,” he confessed and giggled.
Dan stopped and looked at his watch, commenting, “It’s late and us old timers need our rest. Now, tomorrow, we’re going to be pretty busy so we won’t be able to see you, but Sunday we’re having a big reception at the ‘Scupper’ and Bill and I want you to be our guest.”
Bill stood, walked over to a desk in a corner of the room, picked up a white envelope, returned and gave it to me.
“This is an invitation,” he said, just show it at the door.
Lee smiled at me as I gathered up my note pads, tape recorder and other material and stuffed them in my briefcase.
“I’ll see him out,” he mentioned casually and walked me to the door.
As I prepared to leave, he took my hand, shook it, and held it.
“I hope you make the party on Sunday, it’ll be nice to visit with you some more. I enjoyed your company this evening.”
“Me too!” I stuttered and almost floated out to my truck.
Lee Fielding was definitely interested in me, I thought, and I was interested in him. He was one good looking stud and I wanted to get to know him better, not so much for sex, which I’d never experienced except with my own hand, but for a relationship built on friendship first and then seeing where it would go. The question would be, would he really be interested or only in a “quickie” leaving me empty, wanted, and deeply injured? Like the characters in my novels, I just couldn’t take that kind of disappointment. However, also like the characters in my novels, something about him brought a quickness to the beating of my heart, a stirring desire in my loins and in my special place, a longing for him!
No matter how my cock reacted to him, my brain (and good old common sense) cautioned me; I had much to think about and consider before I entered a relationship with Lee Fielding, if he wished to pursue one. There were too many doubts and too much hesitancy on my part to cast caution aside, abandon my common sense, and yield to my emotional desires – I thought! On the other hand, he was a good looking man who appealed to me in every way. Would I appeal to him since I wasn’t very tall or athletic, not very handsome I thought, smaller-cocked (although he did comment how nice it looked in the bathroom), romance writer, and a charlatan at that, disguising my real vocation through the use of a pseudonym?
Thank you for reading “Fielding Boy” – Chapter Six-“The pleasure of love is in loving. We are happier in the passion we feel than in that we arouse.” – (Francois, Duc de La Rochefoucauld)
If you enjoy my stories and the many others found on this free site, please consider a donation to. It is your donations which make all of our stories free and available for you to read and enjoy.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental or used in a fictional content.
The Literary works of Nicholas Hall are protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America and are the property of the author.
Positive comments are welcome and appreciated at: firstname.lastname@example.org.