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Some background; While this is a fictional story there are some actual experiences. I did grow up in the fifties and sixties in a household where everyone worked. My parents both worked and from about twelve so did the kids. Many days no one was home to supervise the older or younger kids and we had fun.

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There were four of us. My older brother Gene, and two younger sisters, Betty and Mary. We lived in a small town in the Rockies and though we had neighbors they were much older and never seemed to be outside. We had the run of the neighborhood. Houses were pretty much at the front of a lot with the sides fenced and the back against an alley. Our yard had bushes on each side where it was fenced and that gave us lots of privacy. My dad had a rental unit in the back which had not been rented for years and allowed my brother and I to use it for our clubhouse. I should mention that Gene was two years older than I and, it may have been an oops but, Betty and Mary were identical twins five years younger than I. Even though no one was watching us most of the time it was the job of the older to watch the younger. Hard to do. I had a newspaper route in the morning which I shared with Gene. Mom was home while we did this and we came home to hot tasty breakfasts. Betty and Mary would be our job after mom left for work about nine. In the winter school took care of them but in the summer we all sort of wandered.

It would surprise no one that we had amply opportunity to get into trouble. The real surprise is that we didn't really do that much. Gene was a natural leader, maybe because of his responsibility to watch us little ones, and he seemed to lead a charmed life. We were in the small town, Rockies environment and spent a lot of time with guns. It was not at all unusual for the two of us to take the 22 and go shooting. The girls would be left to play or visit their friends while Gene and I (tagging along) would take the gun. It was only about a ten minute walk till we were out of town along the river and able to shoot. No birds, bottles, or stray cats were safe then. Now, I think that before we made it ten minutes someone would have the cops on us and we would be in some sort of governmental control. The morning that I'm thinking of Gene really didn't want a little brother along. He had been planning it for some time so he had done some preparation. In order to make me not want to tag along he got ahead in the willows and waited. As I came out of the bushes following him into a somewhat secluded openning he simply shot me! That does get your attention. I mentioned his early planning. If you carefully remove the bullet from the 22 shell, throw away most of the powder and cap the shell with a wad of paper it greatly weakens the effect. That is what he had done. But, he was fourteen, i was twelve we only worked by trial and error. The wad shot out was aimed at my leg to sting, not to injure. The problem was that he did not get enough powder out of the shell and was too close when he fired. I ended up with a hole in my pantleg and leg. Gene was terrified. He thought that he had killed me and what to do about my yells--blood--damaged pants so no one would find out what he had done.

It only took a minute for me to realize that I was not killed but only slightly hurt. Gene was very concerned and wanted to take care of my wound to see that I was ok. Looking back, it may have been more of a case of self protection. He didn't want this info to get out to anyone, parents especially. We were in a small open area along the river, grassy and pleasant. To get to the wound I had to take off my pants. The hole in the pants was not that unusual for an active boy and would be sewn easily enough. The blood was troubling though, mom might want to see what I had done to injure myself and the story could come out. So taking my pants Gene went to the water and washed off the bloody part. He then got to me. My pants were drying, I had a small hole in my leg and blood that had smeared around it. We had no other cloth to wash it off. He didn't want to use his or my shirt so what was left. He took my underwear. Wetting them he gently washed the hole in my leg and then went back to wash off the bloody underwear. That left two boys, one half naked, and the wet clothes that were laid out to dry in the sun.

Now, as I had said before Gene watched out for his little kids. I knew how to masterbate, but it was a sometime thing done mostly alone. This day Gene figured that since I was hurt, and it was his fault he would treat. Taking my cock in hand he started to work. With the type of morning I had already had that was not an easy job. I just didn't get hard enough fast enough. Gene played and I played with disappointing results. It was at this point that he decided to join in and see if that helped. I was happy to have the company as I didn't often get to watch him perform. It was always my goal to be like my big brother and sex was a good place to copy. He quickly took his pants off to join me and started working his cock. It seemed to work as I followed and in short order had a nice hardon and going to town. It was a beautiful day, warm, a nice grassy private spot, and we had all the time in the world. It didn't take long for both of us to cum. Of course, he was first. We then lay there for some ten to fifteen minutes still waiting for the clothes to dry enough to wear them without making anyone question what we had been up to.

Gene quickly got bored. And being mostly naked started playing with himself again. So, natually I followed. This time however, it was trade time. He reached over and started to play with me while telling me to do the same to him. It was easier this time for both of us to get hard. He next started to ask me if I knew how grownups used their cocks. I knew that what we were doing felt good but not much more. It was then that he started to tell me that girls, not having cocks, did have a hole between their legs used to hold boys cocks. I knew girls didn't have cocks, we did have two little sisters.
But the idea that they had an extra hole and that it would be used to hold a cock was new to me. He hadn't a good idea of how it worked either but did know that that was what happened. It was then that he thought of a fun experiment to try. Even though I was not a girl and did not have the right hole to use he noted that I did have a hole. I was quick to point out that so did he. Yet, he was the leader and next thing that I knew I was on my hands and knees in the grass with Gene behind me. Now, he was not that big, but we were very inexperenced. It was a fumbling mess to try to fuck my asshole. No lube and no entry. We both agreed that the idea should work and with cocks standing tall at attention we next tried wetting my nonwelcoming hole. This time with a push and a yelp from me he got it in. I don't think that I much cared for that. It hurt. Gene though, felt that he was having a great time and proceeded to pull out, push in, pull out until he had the best cum ever. I did manage at the same time to cum with my hand and by then did not really mind. It was starting to be a little better and I was maybe enjoying this. Now, it was my turn. Right. Gene proceeded to clean up and decide that the clothes were dry enough that we could dress and go home. We did just that taking the 22 and our experiences with us for more later.

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1 comments

anonymous readerReport

2011-09-29 19:07:04
kind of short. is that how boys discover sexuality? i would have thought it would hurt more, but hey, maybe at that age, not so much. please continue the story . . .

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