Kenny's Back. Victor J. Banis

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ being the little kid that kept me hopping, the little brother I’d never had, and become something else, something crazy and undreamed of? I remember all, every day, every minute we spent together, but I don’t remember when it changed.

      When the work was light, I’d many times go off with him, hiking and fishing. We found a cave, that was our place to escape from the world of work and responsibilities, and we spent hours there. Or we’d go swimming in the creek behind the pasture. I must have seen that bare ass of his a hundred times and never thought about anything more than walloping it when he made me mad, and he’d seen me raw as many times.

      “Big Swede,” he called me, and he’d never admit it, but the one thing that really got him was that I was bigger down below than he was. Never mind that I was older. He couldn’t stand being second best in anything. I’d see him look down at himself and then at me, and frown.

      “Look how big it’s getting,” he said over and over again. “I’ll bet I’m bigger than you before the year’s out.” He never quite made it, even though he swore he had.

      Somehow it changed. The horseplay wasn’t just horseplay, and the wrestling tired us out more, so that we would lay for long times wrapped together and panting while we caught our breath—which got harder and harder to catch each time. I should have stopped it, I guess, being the older, but even though I was old in some ways, I was still a kid in my body.

      I suppose a lot of it was just kid stuff. If you took any two young boys and put them on a farm, and sent them out wrestling and swimming naked together and let them become the closest of friends, the same thing would most likely happen. For Kenny, that’s probably all it ever was. But I can’t kid myself. Even from the first time anything happened, I knew I felt about him in a way that I had always expected I would feel about a woman someday. Afterward, after Kenny, I never felt that way about anyone else, man or woman. I was convinced that I never would—that I never could.

      It started with the arguments about size. Not satisfied with seeing them soft, Kenny had to compare them hard, and even though I got a little shy about it, nothing would do but what he had to get his way. Two boys, all by themselves in a cave in the woods, cocks hard—somehow they had to be gotten soft again.

      I was scared after the first time, and a little guilty too, I guess, but not Kenny. That devil had found a new game that he liked best of all, and to be honest he had less and less trouble each time persuading me to play.

      All we did at first was play with one another, and sometimes it really was more of a game than anything else. We still argued about size and such, and I doubt if Kenny was ever happier than the day he found out he could shoot further than I could.

      It went on like that for a while and then it kind of died down. We both outgrew it a little, I suppose, although occasionally we still played around like that. I was twenty-one by this time, and even though I still enjoyed and looked forward to those games of ours, I kept telling myself I was past the age when guys should be playing around with other guys.

      As for Kenny, he had discovered girls and, for a year or so, that made a big difference. Of course, he had no more trouble persuading his new partners to play games with him than he had with me, and I guess he tried out that sport to his satisfaction, and to the dismay of a number of girls, who sent him notes and called at the house and otherwise pursued him. Thankfully none of them came up with any more evidence of their foolishness than broken hearts.

      I thought that our fooling around was over—and in a sense it was. There was one girl Kenny had worked on for longer than the others, six months in all. He was seventeen then, going on eighteen, and as handsome a Romeo I swear as ever prowled the Ohio farmland. During those six months, we’d had none of our playing around, and I had pretty well gotten used to the idea that it was sadly over.

      Then one night he came home from a dance he had been to with this girl—I don’t even remember her name now—and he came slipping down the hall to my room to wake me up and have a cigarette. Before, that would have been a sign that he wanted to play, but now I wasn’t sure, so I made no move in that direction, and for a while he didn’t either, but just lay there on the bed and smoked his cigarette and talked about a lot of little things.

      “How’d you do with your girl?” I asked him finally, knowing by now that something was bothering him, but not knowing what.

      “I made out,” he answered with his usual frankness.

      “Great,” I said, without much enthusiasm.

      “It’s funny, Mar,” he said, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at me in the moonlight that spilled through the window. “It’s not the same with a girl as it is with you.”

      I laughed aloud at that. “I hope not,” I said finally.

      Kenny remained serious though, and even that was a little bit unusual. “No, I mean it,” he insisted and then, after a pause, “Mar, do you want to? Now, I mean?”

      I think I guessed that this time it was different, but saying no to Kenny was never easy, and downright impossible when I was in the mood myself, which I was just then.

      “Sure, Ken.” I rolled over and took hold of him. He was higher on the bed than I was, so his belly was right in front of my face. I could smell the sweet, musty smell of his thighs, mingled with the scent of soap. He’d showered, I decided, before coming to my room.

      “Put your mouth on it,” he said after a moment—not demanding, just asking in a quiet voice.

      It gave me pause. We’d never done anything like that before, and I don’t think I’d ever thought about it, favorably or otherwise. But Kenny had asked. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t thought of it either before then, or he’d have mentioned it. Kenny wasn’t shy about what he wanted.

      I had never thought about a cock being beautiful before, or even especially desirable in itself. It was something to have fun with and take pleasure with. But now I was staring at Kenny’s in a different way—and all of a sudden, it was beautiful. I stared at the head of it, mysteriously dark in the pale light, at the length of it, silky smooth and pale, with the faint color of veins running raggedly along it, like the marble on the dresser in Olsen’s room that had fascinated me so much when I was little. The hair at the base was already thick and glossy black. I could see his belly heaving up and down the way it did when he was excited.

      I did what he’d asked, putting my lips lightly on the end of it. He let out his breath in a rush and moved slightly toward me.

      “I like that,” he said in a whisper. He put his hands on my head, mussing my hair with his fingers, and coaxed me gently downward. “That’s nice.”

      I didn’t know whether I liked it or not. It was strange tasting and kind of uncomfortable when it went into my throat. I choked on it and had to stop for a moment while he waited without moving, but I started in again and it got easier than it had been to begin with.

      Of course Kenny was not about to be left out of anything new. “Let me try,” he said after a bit. And as usual he couldn’t go at it slowly and test the water. He had to swallow it all down like a starving man—and almost choked himself to death.

      “Whew,” he said, gasping for breath and coughing. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”

      “I want to fuck you,” I said on an impulse. That was the first time that idea had ever occurred to me, but now that the thought had come into my mind, I knew that I had wanted it that way for a long time.

      “In СКАЧАТЬ