Somerset Farm 

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze


 Chapter 6

I'm sorry to be so tardy with Chapter 6, this miserable machine and I
rarely agree on how things should be done. As always, comments and
constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for the compliments to date
as well. Jamie


Jamie Haze

After Doug and Marc finished drying themselves, they collected Doug's
things from the bedroom and left the house. Marc hung Doug's camera around
Doug's own neck and told him, "If you want to take some great pictures you
always have to be ready, like I wasn't when you stretched," he giggled,
"but then of course, there were extenuating circumstances. Mine's in the
bunkhouse and I'll be ready from now on. I've got some really fast film
for tonight. I'll give you some. It works great in low light, like candles
and the light from the fireplace. No one likes being blinded while they're
fucking, so a flash is no good. I tried using a tripod and a timer, and
even a remote to shoot Paul and I, but it's all too distracting, so I gave
up. Tonight, you can shoot Paul and I, and I'll get you two. Between us,
we should get some great shots."

The boys were careful not to touch each other as they walked down to the
bunk house, by mutual agreement because they both knew they would no longer
be content to just hold hands, or cop a casual feel. If they did, they'd
have to stop and have a serious sex break in the middle of the lawn. Doug
saw Paul swimming strongly to a float a hundred yards out from the front of
the bunkhouse. He raised the camera and clicked a couple of frames,
hopefully including a portion of the building. Doug giggled as he looked
around the beautiful setting. "Paul called your lake a big pond and your
home a little farm. He had me fooled until I saw his fucking truck. "Do
you go to public school?" He asked.

"Are you fucking kidding? No way. Dad worked his way through college and
law school, and now that he's making big bucks, nothing's too good for his
sons. We go; or rather I still go to Branson Prep. We started going there
because they have a great gymnastics coach; hence a top team on the private
school circuit. Now that Paul graduated, I don't have any reason to
continue except to get an education. Do you go to the new regional high?"

"Nope, the Oaks Academy. Our fathers should get along great. Mine worked
his way through college too, and now that his company is so successful,
he's got the world by the balls, just like your dad."

"What's your dad do?"

"He's a Civil Engineer. The company is Henderson Constructors. It's a
design/build operation."

"Holy shit. Even I've heard of them. They just finished the new
interchange on the Interstate," Marc giggled, "and I might add fucked up
traffic for a year. My father started taking the train to New York just
after they started that. He's called your father every name in the book,
and then some whenever he had to drive to the airport to fly out to his
office in L.A. every other week."

"An office in Los Angeles? Really?"

"Yup. Haven't you ever heard of John Wilcott, Attorney at Law, and
defender of the rich and famous, or anyone else with a million bucks for
the retainer?"

"Sure. That's your father?" Doug was impressed. "Damn, too bad he lost
that case with that drug lord guy."

"He didn't. It was a plea bargain. That fucker was guilty as sin. He
could have gotten life without parole. He was happy as a clam to get
twenty years," Marc giggled again, "and he's already paid up front for his
parole hearing." Marc suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Hey, do you
board there?" Doug looked at him quizzically. "I mean at Oaks? Do you
board at Oaks?"

Doug shook his head, "It's too close, someone drives me. Why?"

"I was just thinking, if I transferred to Oaks, and if we both boarded, it
sure would be convenient if we roomed together." Marc's huge grin told the
rest of the story.

Doug started to giggle, "Goddamn, that's brilliant! We could fuck each
other's brains out until we graduated!" Then he looked depressed. "But I'd
have to do some fancy talking to get my father to agree." He snapped his
fingers, "But if our fathers got to be friends, they probably could
convince themselves that boarding would be best for both of us. Would that

"Shit, it's worth a preppie try at least." Marc slapped Doug on the back as
they rounded the side of what the brothers insisted on calling the

It resembled nothing like any bunkhouses Doug remembered seeing on old TV
westerns from the side facing the lake, or the actual front of the
building. He looked questioningly at Marc, just as Paul started to climb
submerged steps in the lake to the terrace. He remembered his camera,
raised it and started shooting each time Paul's beautiful body got one step
higher and closer. Paul saw Doug, and raised his eyes heavenward and
implored God to give him strength to tolerate another eager shutter bug.
He decided to end the candid shoot by posing dramatically, because his
brother preferred only candid photos mostly.

"Goddamn it Paul, you know Doug's just learning. All you had to do was
walk your ass in and start fucking dinner, ignoring Doug by just looking
the other way."

Doug didn't give a flying fuck about candid. He just wanted to get the
maximum number of shots of Paul's fantastic body. When he saw that Marc's
attention was diverted to shout at his brother, he turned the camera and
started to photograph him, that is, until his camera started to rewind. He
ended Doug's anger by looking at his camera cross-eyed. "Shit Marc, who
buys twenty-four exposure film anyway? He asked with a giggle. He shrugged
and looked around.

They were standing on a large flagstone terrace, which jutted out into the
lake forming a half circle. A fieldstone-sitting wall at water's edge,
protected users from falling in, except for an eight foot wide opening in
the middle which opened on the steps into the lake. Tables, chairs and
lounges mitigated the extent of the area. Marc and Paul watched him look
about in puzzlement. "What is this place? It sure isn't any bunkhouse,"
he concluded with a frown.

Marc turned effeminate, and took Doug's arm, walking him toward the
building. "This dear boy," he said, waving his arm with a limp wrist at
the open French doors, "is our lakeside pavilion, which we use on occasion
for large parties." He dropped his act and put his arm around Doug's
shoulders and continued in a normal voice, "At least that's what Mom calls
it. They built it to have parties in to keep drunks out of the house, but
after the first party, they discovered that it was too far from the
house. Paul and I sort of took it over as a playhouse first, then when we
started bunking out here in the summer; we started calling it the
bunkhouse. Pretty neat isn't it?" He asked when they stood in the doorway.

Doug stared open mouthed, not at the contemporary décor, but at the
ten-foot high windowless back wall which was built in the slope. The wall
was covered with photographs in assorted sizes, but all oversized. None
was less than poster size, and most of them were of Paul. Doug walked
spell bound to the largest one in the center of the group. It was a black
and white of Paul hanging suspended from the rings, in an iron cross. He
was naked and lighted by an intense light from directly above. The
background was totally black. His arms were perpendicular to his rigidly
held body. His legs were perfectly straight and together, with his toes
pointed down at the unseen floor. While every muscle was clearly defined,
Paul didn't appear to be straining, and looked like he could hold the
position for hours. This was reinforced by his facial expression, which
was serene, even beatific. If his figure had wings attached, he could have
been an angel descending to earth.

Marc nudged Doug to break his trance. "This one's my all time favorite.
It took me hours of trying to get it. I don't always do candids, and he
normally always wears at least a jock when he's in the gym. He was one big
tired puppy by the time we were finished, but it was worth it. Even he
likes it, but won't admit it. He wouldn't let me get near him with a
camera for a week afterward."

"It's really beautiful," Doug mumbled. He started to walk the length of
the wall studying each photo he really liked. "Have your parents ever seen
these? He asked. The concept of going naked around his parents was beyond
him, although the little speed suits he wore all the time around the pool
left little to the imagination.

"Sure, they come down here a lot to look at them because I keep changing
them whenever I get one I like better. I've run out of wall space as you
can see. Dad wants to hang some in the field house, but Paul claims
looking at himself would be distracting when he was trying to concentrate
on his routines, so we haven't hung any in there, YET!"

"Never mind yet!" Paul hollered from the kitchen area. "Just don't. I
don't want all Dad's friends ogling me naked when they go in there to play

"Okay! I heard you. Shut up and cook, we're starving." Marc shouted back.
He looked at Doug with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"What?" He asked suspiciously.

"Oh nothing, except don't be surprised if you find a few of your own long
swimmer's ass up there the next time you come visiting"

Doug laughed. "Yeah, right. I'm sure your parents would be impressed with
you being able to talk a stranger into going buck naked, so you could take
my fucking picture. No thanks I pass on the wall. You can take all you
want, just keep them out of sight."

Marc developed a pouty look. "Okay, if you insist, I won't hang any of you
on this wall."

"That's bullshit Douggie, don't trust him! You won't be through the gate
before he has the negatives he likes FedEx'd to wherever he gets the big
ones printed."

Marc tried to look indignant, but he couldn't quite hide his grin. "I
promised I wouldn't hang them on this wall and I won't." He burst out
laughing. "But I've been thinking of the empty stone wall around the
fireplace. It needs a few Marc Wilcott originals, and I don't remember
promising anything about not hanging Doug there."

Doug gave up, shook his head and laughed. "Can I at least get to see them
before your parents?"

Marc cheered Doug's graceful capitulation, slapped him on the butt and
pushed him toward the bar, where Paul had dishes and silver waiting to set
a table on the terrace. Dinner started out in silence, while the initial
hunger pangs were satisfied. Then Doug looked at the brothers and grinned.

"Okay gentlemen, I think now, with both of you sitting here together, would
be a good time to finish telling me how you two first got together." Doug
said just before he put a rare piece of steak in his mouth and started
chewing slowly.

Marc coughed and cleared his throat. "I did sort of promise I'd tell you
the rest. Where'd I stop? Oh, I remember. The first night I saw him beat
off and that nasty fucking tissue. After I shot the second blank and felt
strong enough to get back in bed, I thought I should be tired, but I
wasn't. I just lay there thinking up ways that I could get some of his cum
directly from his cock, and not have to chew on another tissue, which by
the way, I still had stuffed in my cheek like a wad of chewing tobacco what
was left of it anyway. I must have already eaten half of it without
knowing it. It was there when I fell asleep, but in the morning, it was
gone, so I guess I swallowed it."

"I decided my best course of action would be to crawl in his room from the
hall since the door was open again the next night, but his door to our
bathroom was closed. That's what I did. I figured that if I waited until
the last second when he started to cum, I could just stand up and get my
mouth on his cock before he knew what was happening, and wasn't able to do
much about it anyway. It didn't exactly look like coming was something
anyone could stop once it started and I was right. I sat my ass down at
the foot of his bed just like a patient little Indian. I could see his
feet moving while he jerked himself, shit, the whole fucking bed was
moving. Gradually it started shaking faster and I could hear him puffing,
breathing real hard. Then he spread his legs and his toes started pointing
down at the foot of the bed. I got ready, up on my knees. I risked
looking over the bed up between his legs. Man, his hand was a blur. I
heard him suck in a lung full of air and his ass lifted off the bed. It
was then, or never, so I kind of slithered up between his legs as fast as I
could go. He was holding his cock up with his fingers right down at the
root, near his balls, so the coast was clear for me to at least get my
mouth on him."

Marc paused to look at his brother and grin at Paul's red faced
embarrassment. "What's wrong with you big brother?"

"It's just that this is the first time anyone's heard this story. Shit,
it's the first time that I've heard this first part. I remember the rest.
Go ahead and finish."

"He didn't know I was there, until he felt me laying on his upper legs with
my mouth locked on him. First, he tried to push my head away with his
hands, but I clamped down on him with my teeth, not really hard, just
enough to let him know that pushing me off was unwise. He stopped pushing,
then his hands just kind of fluttered around my head, like there was an
invisible barrier, and he couldn't touch me. Then he started bucking, I
thought he was trying to throw me off using his body, so I wrapped one
skinny arm around each thigh, right up at his crotch and just held on for
dear life. He was always good at gymnastics and he was already strong, but
he couldn't use too much of his power without risking getting his cock
chewed off. I felt like one of those suckerfish that attach themselves to
sharks. I just went along for the ride. All the time he was trying to
shake me, he was pumping cum, and I didn't miss a drop."

"Then gradually, the bucking changed somehow. He stopped trying to throw
me off and was just kind of thrusting his hips up to get his big old jamoke
into my mouth further. Then he'd pull back by forcing his ass down into the
mattress, then up again to make his cock slide in and out of my mouth. I
realized he was using my mouth like a hand to jerk himself off without
touching himself. I thought that was kind of a neat idea, so I started
using my head to help. He put his hands on my head again, but he wasn't
trying to push me off, he was steering me, up and down, up and down."

Paul interrupted with a shrug. "He knew he had me. He'd already swallowed
an entire load, a whole day's worth, and I was so horny then, I didn't even
think about resting or wilting. I just started over. I think part of it
was the thought of having my little brother service me, want to give me
head and pretty obviously enjoy the shit out of having my cock in his
mouth, and swallowing my cum."

Doug nodded. He knew what it was like for both Paul and Marc, because
after getting his own cock into his mouth the first time, that there was no
stopping either his head, his brain, from wanting it. Or, his cock, with a
mind of it's own from constantly wanting to bury itself in its owner's

"You know when you're a little kid, you keep hearing older guys talking
about getting sucked off, and blow jobs?" Marc asked. Doug nodded again,
he knew the question was rhetorical. "Well, right then and there, I
thought about experimenting with both. I sucked for awhile, then switched
and blew him until my cheeks hurt. Old Paul here started moaning, and I
knew I was doing something right. I knew when he was going to come the
second time, and I was ready. By then I was bending over him on my knees,
kneeling between his legs. I was comfortable, and I could have stayed
there all night. After he finished the second load, I tried for a third,
but he pulled me off, and up his body so I was laying on top of him, with
his cock between my legs. I tried to kiss him, but he wouldn't let me.
His big excuse was that I had his cum in my mouth and none of it was
getting into his. I didn't push him about that because the next time I
tried, I'd be sure he didn't have that as an excuse."

"Of course by then, I was more than ready to pound on myself for an hour or
two, so I rolled off him to my back and started jacking off. Big brother
here was laying along side me, on his side, with his head propped up on his
arm to watch me. Then his hand came over and started rubbing my chest at
first, then just kept getting lower and lower, until I finally grabbed it
and wrapped it around my cock. When I let go, he kept it there and
finished me off. It was another blank, but he knew something happened.
After, the prick told me to go to bed. I just told him, that I was already
in bed. I was ready for a fight, but he just kind of pulled me back up
against his body and wrapped his arms around me, stuck his nose in the back
of my head and, that's the way we fell asleep."

"In the morning when we woke up, we were both hard of course, but we both
had to piss. After, in the shower, I nailed him again, and after I
finished him, he stood me up and turned me around, then hugged me up close
with his cock between my legs. He reached around me and jerked me off
while he humped my crotch. A couple of times he got carried away and his
cock popped out, and up between us. It seemed logical that since feeling
it sliding along my crack was so great, I thought getting it into my ass
would be fantastic, but that took another week before I could convince
Mr. Bashful to try it" Marc grinned and yawned dramatically, looking first
at Doug, then his brother.

"All this bullshit has made me kind of sleepy, or at least ready for bed.
Is anyone else ready?"




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