ALL SEXUAL CONTACT IS BETWEEN ADULTS.
PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SEXUAL RELATIONS BETWEEN MEN.
*****
I saw his stomach muscles tighten and I knew he was ready to shoot his load. I moved closer to him, hoping some of his semen would land on me. I couldn't hold off any longer and he stepped back as I ejaculated, my cum firing out in thick white ropes, landing on the ground between us. I'd never shot as much before, never had a more satisfying sexual experience.
Clint looked into my eyes, amused as he moaned. Then he turned his back to me and I watched his ass clench as he ejaculated. I didn't see him cum at all. After he finished he turned back to me and grinned. I wanted to hit him for depriving me of seeing him shoot his load after he'd watched me cum.
My hero was a total bastard.
*********************
I first met my cousin Clint when I was nine and he was sixteen. To him I was just his kid cousin that he played games with and entertained while I visited our grandfather. To me he became a hero and I wanted to grow up to be just like him. I wouldn't see him again for ten years when I was nineteen and he was twenty six. I was stunned when I saw him again and he became more than a hero to me.
When I was eighteen my paternal grandfather died and left his corn farm to me and to my cousin, Clint, seven years older. We were his only grandchildren, his only living family. Clint's parents had adopted him as an infant and my father never accepted him as a nephew, hating anything that was part of his older brother.
Then Clint's parents were killed in a car crash when he was three and Granddad raised him on the Nebraska farm. I was born when he was seven and I didn't even meet him until I was nine when Dad was sent to jail for twelve weeks. I stayed with Granddad while Dad was in jail, managing to fail the eighth grade as a result of it.
It was my first experience on the farm and I loved every minute of it. Granddad knew it and would have liked it for me to stay with him but when Dad got out of jail I had to go back to California. At least I got to meet Clint. He was sixteen, in high school, and everything I wanted to be; handsome, happy, filled with fun and a joy of living. And he was girl crazy.
Dad's problems stemmed from him being an alcoholic and a pothead, the exact opposite of his high achieving older brother. He always told me Clint wasn't really my cousin and that I was to stay away from him. I didn't really have much choice, I only saw him during that one three month visit to the farm.
Dad died of a drug overdose when I was eighteen and Granddad attended the funeral. Clint, then twenty-five, stayed home. My own mother had died of a drug overdose when I was six and when Dad died he was on his fifth wife, Stella, my fourth stepmother.
Dad had no money to leave us and Granddad made a deal to pay support to Stella to let me finish the last three months of my senior year. He also gave me a copy of his will, telling me he had cancer, and that he was leaving me half the farm. I wanted to quit and stay with him but he wouldn't let me. He promised he'd be at waiting at the farm for me when I graduated.
The day I graduated I called Granddad to tell him. Clint told me he'd died the night before. The next day I boxed up my few possessions and had them shipped to Nebraska. Then I put a few clothes and toiletries in a sports carry all bag and flew to Omaha. I left behind a stepmother who was only too glad to see me go. All she was going to miss was the monthly check Granddad had sent her until I graduated.
I exited the plane with my heart in my throat, nervous about meeting Clint for the first time in ten years. He was twenty-six to my nineteen. Clint was supposed to meet me at the airport, instead a buxom blonde had a sign with my name on it.
"My name's Cherie Adams, Levi. Clint sent me to pick you up because he couldn't make it. I'm so sorry about your grandfather, he was a great man."
I had no idea why Clint couldn't meet me, he could have had a good reason but I was angry. Cherie was one of those people who are cheery and full of conversation. And fake as hell. She never shut up all way to the farm in the middle of nowhere. Clint, Clint, Clint. She sang his praises for over a hundred miles and it was clear to me that he fucked her regularly.
She pulled in the long driveway, drove up to the farmhouse, and handed me a key.
"Clint said to just let yourself in and make yourself at home," she smiled. "He put all of your boxes in one of the bedrooms but he said if you don't like it you can move them all to another room. There're four more vacant bedrooms but he asked that you not move into your grandfather's room. I think you'll like the room you're in, I helped him pick it out for you."
I resented her telling me about my grandfather's house as if she was a part of it. I'd put up with four wicked stepmothers, two of them just like Cherie, and I couldn't bear the thought that she was, or might become, a member of the household. I was totally pissed that Clint hadn't met me at the airport and further insulted me by not even being at home when I arrived.
I quickly discovered that my things had been put in one of the three large bedrooms with its own bathroom. Of the other two rooms, one was Granddad's and the other was Clint's. The other bedrooms were guest rooms with a single bathroom that served them.
I began to unpack my things, putting them away in closets and drawers, pictures on the tops of the dresser and chest of drawers. I put my lockbox under the bed. The lockbox was one of the reasons I'd wanted to ship everything. It contained my dildo and couple of butt plugs along with my collection of gay porn, not the sort of things you'd want to show going through airport security.
I explored the house and was sitting in the kitchen having some lemonade when I heard a tractor in the drive. I went outside as Clint pulled up the house. I watched as he climbed down from the tractor with easy grace, the well-defined muscles of his thighs stretching in his tight jeans. His ass was a work of art and I felt my cock getting erect.
In the ten years since I'd seen Clint, he'd turned into a total stud. He was rugged, masculine, tough, a real man's man, no pun intended. He was broad shouldered and muscular, the muscles of his upper body rippling under the clinging fabric of his tee shirt. His hair was sun bleached blond and his arms had a light covering of soft hair that shone golden under the sun. I could see a tuft of chest hair escaping from the top of his tee shirt.
Clint removed his cowboy hat and gloves, putting them on the seat of the tractor, and walked toward me. My muscles tensed, not sure how to act at our first meeting in a decade. He removed his sunglasses and I looked into the stunning dark blue eyes that I remembered. He held his hand out to me.
Clint's grip was firm and strong, the hands of a working man. I was glad that I exercised regularly, lifting weights, so that I returned his handshake with equal firmness. His hand was warm and I looked at the prominent veins that ran up his arms from hard work.
I blushed, dazed by his overwhelming masculinity and confidence.
"It's good to see you, Levi," he grinned. "You've really grown up into a man. How long's it been, eight, ten years? And you're what, seventeen, eighteen?"
"Ten, and I turned nineteen last month. It's good to see you again, Clint. Sorry it has to be under these circumstances."
"Yeah, it's a real shame. You've just got here and Granddad's funeral is tomorrow. Have you got all your stuff unpacked yet?"
I nodded.
"The room's really nice. I stayed in it when I was here before."
"I remember. It's one of the biggest bedrooms in the house and it has its own bathroom. I figured an owner shouldn't stay in a guest room," he drawled.
There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Of course I realize you're a big city boy and you probably don't plan to stay on a country farm but it should hold you over for a while."
"I intend to stay, Clint," I said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere and I don't like the big city. This is the only real home I've ever known even though I was only here for six weeks when I was nine."
"Really? And here I thought I'd only see you every once in a while when you came to check on your share of the profits."
I reddened. He was being a total bastard.
"No, I'm here to stay. I've got a lot to learn but I'm here to stay."
"What? No college plans?"
"None in the foreseeable future. Maybe in a few years, I don't know."
"Well, there's plenty of work to be done here and you can bet I'll show you how to pull your weight. Starting after the funeral," he grinned sexily.
