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Note: I write a lot of fictional short stories, but there was a time when I seriously tried to write poetry. I was actually not bad at it, but there was one poem I could never finish. It was about my fondness for shades of green in trees and the contrasts between bright, yellow sunshine, green leaves and deep shadows. I gave up on that poem. And now I'm using it to start a story. We'll see how it goes.

 

mid-70's

I grew up in the middle of nowhere. Picture 'nowhere' in your head and then picture a place more isolated than that. I was the only child of a farmer. My dad raised cattle and wheat in a Midwestern state in the middle of the country. Mom worked for a hospital in the nearest town (twenty miles away) and Dad was always busy doing his farm stuff which didn't interest me at all. Once I learned to tide a bike, I was free to go all over the area with no supervision. I rarely even saw a person or even a vehicle on my journeys. The slow, rolling prairie hills and fields were beautiful. My dad also had pastures which had their own treasures. Early on, I used to spend all my Summer days wandering along the pasture's dry creek bed. I especially liked the weeping willow trees that grew near the edges. They were easy to climb and seemed to have personalities. I dreamed up adventures and movie ideas beneath the lazy shade of my favorite willow. I'd sing pop songs I'd heard on the radio. "Love Will Keep Us Together" was my favorite then. I thought I could be a singer back then. (I'm a terrible singer as it turns out) 

In the fourth grade, our cranky teacher would set aside a half hour a day to read to us from a book -- even though we all knew how to read already. I completely tuned out when she read "Black Beauty", but "The Chronicles of Narnia" was riveting. I don't remember much about it now -- except that some kids had found a magical world in the back of a closet. I didn't believe in Santa at that point, but I still mostly believed in magic and hidden worlds. I wanted to find my own, and what better place to look than the fascinating pasture? Books and movies back then promised kids that there was something fantastic just beyond what we saw normally. I looked and hoped and wished. Magic was hiding too well for me to find it.

Fast forward a few years....when I suddenly  knew I was not regular. I talked different and acted different than other boys. And I looked at the men's pajama pages in my mom's Sears catalog too often. There were no names or words for what I was. I stayed quiet and waited for answers to come to me. A few years later, another farm boy showed me porn magazines he'd found in his Dad's stash. I tried to be as enamored with the little cuts naked women had between their legs, but couldn't stand to look at them too long. Boobs were okay...I didn't mind breasts as much, but they didn't excite me like they did Mitch. I couldn't even begin to imagine where his dad had bought these magazines. I was about 12 years old when my neighbor buddy showed me a magazine that had a photo story called "Horny Trucker". It was about a truck driver who picks up some hot chick who was hitchhiking in a bikini. The photos showed his long, floppy penis hanging out of his jeans. A real dick! A man dick! The night after I saw that, I masturbated for the first time. I didn't have any body hair at the time, but there must have been some testosterone hidden somewhere because I had an orgasm. It surprised and scared me. My parents never told me about how babies were made, but I figured it all out. My dad had done this inside my mom to make me. That was too bizarre to even think about.

Once I got the hang of it, I masturbated constantly, thinking of that horny trucker. What if he did what I was doing  now...in my mouth? I was guessing I'd love it. Just as I became a teen, my mom got really sick. Nobody told me any details, but I gathered she had cancer in her uterus. She had some operations...one after another. The minister from our church came to the house to pray with us. And then she was gone. I was so shocked I don't think I even cried until months later. Me and Dad. All on our own. Before long, I was a senior in high school and looking at going to go to college somewhere. I loved the lonely rural life, but there was no future for me there. I had to go somewhere else to become an adult. I went to a community college a little less than hour from my father. I needed to stick close to Dad to take care of him. On breaks, I would stay with him...even though the slightly urban life I was living was an entirely new brand of fascination that the country didn't have. I still looked about twelve years old, but had decided that it was because I'd grown up around poisonous pesticides and herbicides. When you look at a really green crop field, you're looking at a lot of chemicals. It had probably killed my mom and was probably the reason. my dad had been in bad health lately. He was losing weight and not looking too rugged anymore. Chemicals had damaged all of us. 

This is already going on too long, so I'll speed things up a bit. Dad died of bone cancer. He went fast, and in a comfy hospital bed. I had to quit school so I could handle everything. One of his farmer pals helped me figure out the next steps. He was buried next to my mom. On a farm, you have an auction instead of an 'estate sale'. His trucks and tractors and combines and land and house were all going to go to the highest bidders. Life is a gyp. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise. The day before the big auction, I slept in my old bed for probably the last time. I got up and went to the pasture where there used to be cattle grazing. It had been a wet Spring, and the creek was still mostly full. It was so bright and beautiful out here....so how could people be dying? I found my favorite willow and marveled at much bigger it was now. I loved trees. I loved how the greens overlapped and made dark green -- going into black. I remembered coming out here to beat off. I remember hoping to see some magic. Hoping to see the horny trucker with his dick out just for me. I laughed at my kid self who was not all that distant from my 18 year old self. The creek took a crooked turn before the end of the property. And then I saw a naked man.

No really. A naked hippie-looking man was sloshing through the water and seemed to be searching for something. What the fuck? I just stood and watched. He was tall and lean and pretty hairy. His dick was soft and not big at all. He wasn't the horny trucker, but I'm fairly certain he was for real. Had I found Narnia? He finally saw me and didn't seem the least bit embarrassed at his nakedness. 

"Oh Hi. Who are you?"

"I'm Todd. This is my dad's land."

"Sorry. I wasn't doing anything. My partner and I moved into the old Gilke house..right over there. I come over here and look for fossils...and limestone is full of them. Did you know that a million years ago, this whole state was covered with about four inches of ocean water?"

I did know that. So a naked man who knew about fossils was standing before me.  "Yeah. Find any good ones?"

"Not yet. I been trying to pull up rocks from the bottom and toss them out to look at later.So I guess I'm disturbing things. Sorry. I'll leave."

"It's fine. He just died and all of this will belong to somebody else tomorrow."

He got all the way out and came over to me, dripping and still naked. "Damn. Marvin? I liked him. He gave us a pumpkin from his garden last year. You look a little like him. I'm so sorry."

And then a damp naked hippy was hugging me in my late father's pasture. Life's not always a gyp, I guess.

"He went peacefully. It's OK. I'm OK."

"Let me find my shoes. Hold on."

He sauntered away a few feet and found his sandals. I got a chance to see his hairy ass. I'd never taken time to notice the beauty of a man's butt before -- I was too focused on their dongs. I felt my nipples get hard. Was that normal? It had never happened before. Were guys supposed to get nipple sensation? I had to be thankful I had on a fairly thick shirt. I'd only packed dressy clothes for this trip because of the funeral and the meetings with bankers and morticians. The hippy had only brought sandals. No clothing.

"That's what I love about this area...you don't gotta wear clothes when you go outside."

"Where are you from?"

"Come walk with me. Let's get out of the sun." He gently took my arm. Did I imagine it? I think his dick was getting a little fuller and thicker. Mine was completely hard -- like it always was those days.

We wandered on down to the barbed wire fence that separated Dad's property from the lush wheat field next to it. There were a bunch of mulberry trees here. I used to pick them and feed them to the box turtles I kept as pets. So long ago. His penis was getting harder as we found a shady spot under one of the trees.

"I remember these trees as being much smaller when I saw them last."

"Fucking love trees, man. You guys have some great trees around here. The cottonwoods are my favorite. They're huge. Wanna a smoke with me?" He had a joint in his hand....from where? He had no pockets. 

"Sure. Thanks." I knew kids at school had got high. I tried smoking it like a cigarette, but the hippy instructed me on how to correctly do it.

"There's a mystical quality about this land. My partner and I are originally from San Fran, but it got too hectic. We decided to drive to the Florida and find a beach somewhere. Of course the damn car broke down right up highway 50...gaskets are rings or something. We just ended up staying. Let's sit."

"There's berries on the ground." I felt stupid for saying that....he wasn't wearing any clothes. I had on black dress pants, but I guess I had no more funerals to go to -- so fuck it. I plopped down. I was nearly eye level with his engorged dick. Damn! 

He settled his bare ass down right on the dirt, kicked off his sandals and took a deep toke. Hippies. He looked down at his growing penis like it was the new topic of conversation. He didn't say anything. We just blew our clouds into the wind. For some reason, I wanted the wind to stop so our smoke would go into the bare blue sky and make puffy clouds. I guess this what was "stoned" felt like. Nice. It was Narnia.

"How old are you?"

"I'll turn 19 in a few months."

"Wow. I'm fifteen years older than you. I've seen and done too much. I had some good times. You don't mind if I jerk off do you? Weed always makes me horny,"

Shit! "No. Go ahead. There's something about this land. I used to beat it here all the time."

His dick was suddenly all the way stiff...and getting more red. "Well, stay back a little. My cum is lethal as hell. Don't get it near your eyes."

"I bet it's fine."

He started jerking faster. "Yeah? You think you'd like it? Maybe you're just stoned."

I was fascinated by his masturbation. I wanted to kiss the head of his tool.

"Maybe you don't even know about AIDS. Maybe you're just a stoned hick. Stay back from this."

I stood up and undressed, threw all my dress clothes into the weeds. And then I knelt between his legs and took his hard dick in my mouth. He didn't protest in the slightest. He let me work my tongue up and down his veiny shaft. I swear I could feel his heartbeat against my lips. This was all new, but it's what I wanted to do. I tasted him...this pasture hippy. I took off my socks and was as naked as he was.  

"I'm a hick alright! Proudly so. And you're just a hairy bum from California...who trespasses." I said all that and lied down on the ground next to him. He'd stopped stroking, but his wiener was still stiff. So was mine.

"OK. Keep sucking me."

I did my best, but he was moving around and adjusting our positions. Suddenly I was on my back and looking up at the mulberry tree over us. I never had a word for what I loved about looking up at the leaves of a tree. Green over darker green over even darker green. And then black..black with traces of green. Was there a single word I could use? I thought about it until the hippy's cock hit me in the face as he was kneeling over me. I sucked it eagerly. I knew about AIDS. The thing that scared me the most was my family finding out I had it. Didn't have to worry about that anymore.

"Get it good and wet. It's going in your ass next. Yeah, Slobber a little more, kiddo."

My ass? His dick? I didn't think it was even possible. Then he lowered himself on top of me. He wasn't so damp any more. And his skin was burning hot. 

"Relax a little. That was hash we smoked...it's a bit intense. Don't freak out while we do this. I'm here for you."

Hash? Like hash browns? I didn't quite.... ahh. He was kissing my neck and my ears. His long tongue was all over me. I felt like the dirt below was sucking me down into it. I was below the soil as he spread my legs and plunged deeply in one thrust. I felt it as pain, serious pain -- but I was down in the ground with the roots and earthworms. That pain was only a tiny part of me. The prairie absorbed me now...I was pure earth and he was planting a seed. I looked into his hairy face as he bucked violently. My butt was entirely full of him, but there was no pain any more. Just the purest pleasure ever. I never wanted this to end. 

But it ended with him cumming inside of me. Fast, fast, then....the furious chaos of his shot inside of me. Seed had been planted. I wanted to stay here forever. 

"Shit...you're bleeding like crazy down there. Let as much as you can here. It's good for the grass. I can take you back to my place if you want."

I declined. I felt instant guilt and shame. And the ground kept pulling me down. I got dressed and walked in a zigzag pattern towards the only home I'd ever known. I could shower there and sleep there. For one more night. 

I finally went back to school the next year.I got a few inches taller, my voice got deeper and body hair appeared. And I was HIV+. I was finally an adult. Finally a man.

 

 

 

 

 

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