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"Todd?"
I'd made it back to the house in time to clean myself up and leap into bed. In fact, by the time I heard Poppa Steve open my door and call out my name, I was just about asleep.
His voice, though, stirred me--its deep, supportive tone telling me everything was going to be okay.
"Yeah? -- that you, Steve?" I saw his hugeness silhouetted against the hall light as he entered.
Not switching on the lamp, he instead sat on my bed, the available light casting shadows on his square-jawed ruggedness. "You've had a big day, boy."
I scooted up against my pillow, nodding, examining what I could see of his eyes.
"Poppa Steve?"
"Yes?..... You can tell me anything, Todd. And I mean, ANYTHING now...."
I let out a deep, shuddering sigh.
"What is it, Todd? C'mon, boy..."
"I had me a big night, too, Poppa!"
His gigantic shoulders and chest tensed under his lumberjack shirt, his face turning to stare directly into my eyes. "You were out there, weren't you? I thought I heard...."
"....me and Tom and Jeb...."
He ran his large hands up his face and through his black, wavy hair. "...oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph..."
"....I stayed here in my room like you told me, but then it got so lonely! I didn't know if you were even...."
"....th' toothpaste's sure out of the tube now, huh, Steven?" he said to himself, looking straight up at the ceiling, shaking his head.
"We had to find out--you know--learn about being a man...."
"....I want you to know I'm not a queer, Todd..." his voice was so low and still, I barely heard him.
"...Shit! WE ain't either!!!" My eyes blazed, my vehemence catching us both by surprise.
Suddenly we caught each other's eye and smiled, then began laughing. It was a good, soul-cleansing moment, realizing, knowing that in all honesty we probably were queer... AF!
His big hand came over to ruffle my dark-brown hair. "It was hot, huh? -- being with Juan?"
We both grinned knowingly, then laughed for what seemed like whole minutes, laughed till tears came.
"Look, Poppa Steve--I heard what you said...you know, to Juan..."
He gazed at me, not speaking, waiting for me to finish.
"....and Tom n' Jeb ain't gonna breathe a word--not one word--to ANYONE!"
He searched my face, his dark, dark eyes fixed on mine.
"I know them real good! And when they swear silence--hell, Poppa--they MEAN it!...."
He nodded a bit. "Ok--so tell me this then..."
"What?"
"I know Juan--or at least I think I do." He paused. "But I gotta ask this..."
"Shoot."
"Did he force any'a you -- you know -- get you to do stuff you didn't want...."
I shook my head. ".... heck no! Me n' Jeb n' Tom pretty much MADE him! He kept saying he had to get back to his chores!"
"...swear to God?"
I solemnly raised my right hand. "And hell, Poppa-- we needed to know! We were in a bad way--so scared of our own bodies and not knowing what to do about it...."
".... well, you sure know NOW, huh?" His big hand grabbed my knee through the covers. "You've learned more in one day than I did over whole years."
"Poppa?" I smiled nervously.
"What?"
"You want to join our 'Horny Club'?" I could barely ask the question, my voice all breathy.
He dug his hand into his shirt and rubbed his muscular, yet pliable, hair-forested pecs. His face looked serious and stern, making me instantly wish I hadn't asked--making me want to take it back.
"That depends." A slow smile spread over his wide lips. "....who's the President?"
"Tom, I think!" I started to giggle in relief. "It was his idea!"
Poppa leaned over and kissed my forehead, then pulled the covers to my chin and stood up. "I'd rather be in on things and know what's going on, than say 'no'. You're not my flesh-in-the-blood real son, but you've come to be like one to me, and I don't want you coming to any harm."
"Super!" I smiled.
"Thank th' lord we live on a farm," he walked to the door, his 6' 2", broad-shouldered body silhouetted by the light. "And thank god your momma made me plant that cedar hedge around it before she took off an' left us. I think we're gonna need all the privacy we can get!"
"Goodnight, Poppa."
"Goodnight, Todd. You're a good boy. So are your buddies."
"So's Juan, Poppa."
"Yep. So's Juan. He must have helped you discover things you were bound to find out anyway. And stuff like this can turn out a whole lot worse...."
".... Billy Jacobs got Sally Rundle pregnant! They're dropping out'ta school come fall....."
"Yep!" he sighed. "This sure as shit could've been a whole lot worse!"
"None'a us can get pregnant, Poppa!"
"G'night, Todd."
"Thanks, Poppa. I love you...."
He paused. ".... love you too, boy. An' that's sure no lie...." he closed the door.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *​
I smelled bacon and coffee, heard the birds from my window, then felt my morning hardon pushing up against the sheets.
Pure joy grabbed my heart--every single memory of the day before suddenly tingling over my satiny-smooth and horny cockhead--making me throw back the covers and admire my huge-knobbed seven-incher. It throbbed from its dark blonde wheatfield of bush, pulsing against my sun-browned stomach, begging me to play with it.
"Uh-uh, buddy!" I whispered down at the beautiful thing. "There's probly gonna be bigger fish for you to fry...."
I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Was it the radio? Then I remembered it was Sunday.
Juan always came over from the bunkhouse for our big breakfast on Sundays! And I tore off naked for the bathroom, my mushroom-headed bad boy spanking my flat belly, my over-sized boyballs bouncing lustily and smacking my blonde-furred thighs.
I actually took one of my cold showers, wanting to calm down my hormone-horny hardon, till it could really have some satisfaction. Then, donning my usual T-shirt and gym shorts, I tromped down the hall.
The first thing I saw from the hallway was Poppa Steve's naked, solid and furry asscheeks, and his V-wedged, muscular back as he poked at some bacon cooking on the stove. My eyes then darted to the table, seeing Juan's nude, huge-shouldered, deep-grooved spine and flared lats as he sat, back to me, facing Poppa. My eyes travelled from the nape of his brown bullneck to his nude bubble-butt hugging into the back of the kitchen chair.
"We'll have to take off that second cut before it rains," Steve was saying. "But the mower needs sharpening..."
"Ahem," I cleared my throat rather dramatically.
"Hey, Tiger," Juan turned in his chair, his overalls and jockeys neatly folded on the floor.
Not actually nude as I'd thought, Poppa wore a small triangular loin cloth, the corners tied by plain kitchen string that fit along the grooves of his muscular Adonis belt--that sexy saddle where his hips meet his 30" waist--and went around his back. It looked homemade--like he'd used an old wifebeater to create a skimpy pouch to sling his big cock and balls into. And being homemade, it sagged under the weight of his heavy bundle of sex, exposing the crest of his black, fluffy, freshly-showered cockbush.
"W-wow!...." my eyes ran riot over his huge, hairy pecs, muscular biceps, meaty forearms and thighs, then latched onto that erotically-obscene pouch. My mouth instantly watered up.
"You better get that 'Horny Club' President over here real quick, before I start the pancakes!" he gave me a toothy grin, then winked at Juan. "--Jeb, too, if he's hungry!"
I nodded, then tore off into the living room, hearing them chuckle and laugh.
"Good thing he slept in, or we wouldn't have finished makin' 'em, huh, Steve?"
My fingers trembled as I dialed Tom's number.
"I owe you a couple'a wifebeaters, man!"
Tom said he'd be over in a flash after I stammered out what was happening. Jeb, however, must have gone off with his folks to church. 'What a shame,' I thought with a grin, turning toward the kitchen, '--Tom and I are gonna be worshipping something a whole lot more exciting!'
I re-entered to see Juan at the counter, reading the back of a pancake mix box. He, too, wore the same, homemade covering--his kinky-haired bush puffing out the gaping top--his fat salami and fat balls slung inside that obscenely-bulged, threadbare pouch.
Suddenly it was ME who was nervous. Yesterday, I was doing everything possible to make Juan show off his body--coaxing him to be more daring. But now that both he and Poppa knew we'd watched them having sex together, they'd gone whole hog being completely out there!
And so, yeah, I was almost trembling--our modest, country kitchen had become a muscleman's, loincloth cookoff! A piece of kitchen string was all that split my Poppa's furry, volleyball butt--disappearing in his tight, male crack to emerge above the erotic Y above his hard, round cheeks--the little string knotted to the string serving as his waist support for the crammed, wifebeater pouch.
I sat down quickly to hide my big-headed erection tenting the front of my shorts. "Um, Jeb's not home, and Tom's on his way," I tried to sound casual.