Backwoods Boys Series
What Goes Around
 
By: Backwoods Boy
(© 2023 by the author)

Edited by: Michael

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Saturday, August 26, 1961

Business had been brisk when Linda entered The Bungalow a week earlier, normal for a Saturday night. The smoke was so thick you could cut it with a knife. She took a stool at the bar, and while the bartender poured her a glass of Chardonnay she lit up a cigarette, further contributing to the atmosphere of the rural tavern.

A long time had passed since Linda had last hung out in a drinking establishment, even longer since she'd done it alone. Before the divorce, she and Richard went out occasionally, but since then her focus had been on her son. Now that the teenager was spending more time away from the nest, it was time for her to do the same.

The miniskirt that the blonde thirty-eight-year-old wore revealed a pair of well-preserved legs, which she kept crossed to avoid revealing a lot more. Her short halter top displayed her tight midriff to advantage and barely kept her ample breasts confined. Add to that the red shoes, and there wasn't much doubt about what she had in mind.

On the Wurlitzer jukebox, Patsy Cline was complaining that she was Falling to Pieces, at a volume that nearly precluded conversation. The raucous laughter coming from a group of loggers in one corner suggested there was more to Olympia beer than the water for which it was famous. The bartender watched the group carefully. He didn't want to, but he might have to cut them off.

In a few minutes, Linda's glass was nearly empty. The bartender was about to approach her about another when the frat boy jock sat down beside her.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

She smiled at him. "Sure. Thank you."

Without comment, the bartender brought him a Coors from the tap, and her another glass of wine, giving Linda time to assess her new companion. She doubted if he was twenty-one, but in rural bars at that time, attitude was more important than age.

And attitude was something the frat boy had in abundance. The OSU tank top he wore revealed biceps that spoke both of bodybuilding and hard work. Below his rock-hard abs, nearly-new shrink-to-fit Levi's revealed a package he was obviously proud of. He sampled his beer.

"I haven't seen you here before. Are you local?"

She took a sip of wine to calm her sudden nervousness.

"Yes, I live nearby. I don't get out much."

"That's too bad. You definitely brighten the place up."

Not a bad start for a pickup line. As she smiled at him, she wondered how experienced he was at picking up an older woman in a bar.

"Thank you." She glanced at the group in the corner. "I gather you're not a logger."

His smile was deliberately self-deprecating. "Nope, just a humble college student on a summer job with the forest service."

Humble, my ass. Full of yourself is more like it. Her hand touched his bicep lightly.

"You must work out a lot."

He smiled at her. "Nice of you to notice. Yeah, it goes with wrestling and playing football."

They sipped in silence for a few moments while the frat boy considered another pickup line. The bartender broke the tension by pushing a basket of peanuts closer to them. They occupied themselves for a while by shelling peanuts and making small talk until the college kid decided on the direct approach. He put his hand on her knee and looked into her eyes.

"It's kind of noisy in here. Maybe we should go somewhere quiet so we can talk without shouting."

She smiled and put her hand over his.

"Where did you have in mind?"

************

The sign at the Lucky Horseshoe Motel said there was a vacancy, unusual for the weekend at the no-tell motel where, if desired, rooms were available by the hour.

While the frat boy went into the office and secured a room for the night, Linda watched the horseshoe on the neon sign flash on and off with the same steady rhythm she hoped her hunk would use while screwing her. It occurred to her that she didn't even know his name. Did it matter? And he was half her age. All the better when it came to the bedroom.

In their dark room, the frat boy locked the door and closed the deadbolt. He turned to find Linda removing her blouse and skirt. Kicking off his shoes and stripping off his shirt, he pulled her into a close embrace and kissed her gently. As she unbuttoned his jeans and reached inside, she whispered words of surrender into his ear.

"Be gentle. It's been a long time."

He smiled, and his ego responded.

"I'll make it good for you."

He was true to his word. By the time the early summer dawn approached, Linda's needs had been fully satisfied. As she lay beside her young jock stroking his muscular chest, she regretted nothing.

 ************

As far as Linda was concerned, it had been a one night stand. She was trying to put her frat boy out of her mind when he called a few days later, inviting her to join him Saturday night at a local dance - a scholarship fundraiser sponsored by the Eagles. She accepted without hesitation. His younger brother, Buster, was staying with him for the week, and he knew from their previous encounter that she had a teenage son. Could Buster hang out with him for the evening?

Linda agreed without consulting her fifteen-year-old son, but when she approached him, she found she had a hard sell to make. Eric frowned.

"How old is this kid anyway?"

"He's a seventh-grader."

"So I'm supposed to baby-sit this kid while you go out and screw with your boyfriend."

His mom played the guilt card.

"I've spent years baby-sitting you, Eric. It's my turn. And where screwing is concerned, I suspect you've been getting your share."

The guilt helped, and the details of his own sex life were best avoided. He agreed, with a token show of reluctance.

"Okay, I'll do it. When do you expect to be home?"

"I don't know. Plan on making breakfast for Buster as well as yourself."

Eric suppressed a smile. Yes, his mom deserved her fun, and deep down he was happy she was getting some. Fun, that is. He gave her a quick kiss.

"I can handle that."

************

"I wish you'd wear something besides those indecent shorts and that obscene t-shirt. I don't want you to give my date the impression that you want him to screw you."

It was now Saturday evening, and his mom had pre-date jitters. Eric evaluated her closely.

"Why not? It's the impression you're going for."

"That's different."

"Not really."

She was getting further behind.

"Okay, but try not to have an erection when he gets here. It shows too well in those shorts."

He smirked. "I'm glad to hear it shows. I may have a hard time controlling it if he's as hot as I hope he is."

She stomped into the kitchen.

"Forget it."

Eric smiled. Since his dad left, his mom hadn't had a boyfriend. Now he realized how much shit he could give her, especially since they both understood he was gay. He hollered after her.

"How big is he?"

"About six feet. I suppose he weighs 180 pounds or so."

"Cool. I'm only six inches on a good day, and I never weighed mine."

She returned to the living room doorway long enough to glare at him.

"Very clever."

Eric smiled. Their relationship had undergone several changes lately, and was once again on the move. Eric was enjoying every minute of it. That was when the car, a 1956 Rambler, rolled into the driveway. The dots lined up. Eric grinned broadly.

"Did Gary show you how the seats fold flat in that model? You won't even have to get a motel."

"How did you know about that feature?"

"I read about it."

Her snort of derision suggested she didn't believe him. There was a moment of silence and then she was back in the doorway.

"How did you know his name was Gary?"

He was the picture of innocence.

"Didn't you mention it?"

She gave him a penetrating look before she replied.

"I guess I must have."

Gary and Buster got out of the car. Buster carried a small overnight bag, and he didn't seem too happy. Although about average for a seventh-grader, five feet tall and one hundred pounds looked small standing next to Gary. Wearing Levi's and an OSU tank top, the kid was a miniature version of his big brother, complete with a blond crew cut, developing biceps, and hard abs.

Eric got wood immediately. He looked down and smiled. Yes, his boner showed very well, and he made no attempt to hide it. In fact as his mom passed him on the way to the door, he rubbed it to make sure she noticed. She pretended to ignore him as she greeted their guests and made introductions.

"Eric, this is Gary, and this is Buster, of course. This is my son, Eric."

Eric smiled and shook Gary's hand.

"Hi, Gary. I'm pleased to meet you."

Gary didn't bat an eye.

"Nice to meet you too, Eric."

Eric gave Buster a high five.

"We're gonna have fun tonight. I've got some cool games we can play. And we can watch Gunsmoke since Mom won't be here to insist on The Lawrence Welk Show. Want a soda or something? Mom left some cookies on the table."

As they headed for the kitchen, Gary and Linda quickly departed.

Eric opened the refrigerator door, and Buster spoke for the first time. His voice was at that frustrating adolescent transition point where he sounded like a cross between Mickey Mouse and Johnny Bravo.

"How about a beer?"

"I'll see what I can find."

Eric didn't normally drink beer, but he'd been given no restrictions on what he could serve his guest - or consume with him. He looked in the back of the fridge and found a couple bottles of Coors. He popped the tops with the wall-mounted opener and handed one to Buster.

"Have you had dinner?"

"Yeah, Gary and I ate before we left home."

"Cool. There's leftover fried chicken in the refrigerator if you want some. Potato salad too, I think."

Buster took a swig from his bottle.

"This will be great. Thanks, Eric."

"Don't mention it."

Buster plopped down on the sofa in the living room and kicked off his shoes. He'd been looking at Eric's shirt.

"Did you really get laid at the Eros Arcade?"

Eric didn't want to get into that adventure. "No, it's just a joke."

"How did you get the shirt?"

"A friend bought it for me. Where I usually get laid is at Cock Rock."

Buster grinned. "Yeah, Gary told me about that place. He says it's got hot and cold running pussy."

The kid was clearly made from the same cloth as his brother. Eric pushed the conversation a little further.

"No lie. How about you? Ever had sex?"

Buster's eyes wandered. "Yeah, a few times."

Eric changed the subject. "Wanna watch TV? Or we've got a lot of card games and board games."

"Got a chess set?"

Eric was surprised. "Sure"

Buster turned out to be a good player, and a nice guy, demonstrating to Eric that he should avoid first impressions. Maybe Gary played chess too. When all you've done with a guy is have sex, it wasn't wise to make assumptions about other aspects of his life. Or his little brother's life.

Chess morphed into checkers, and then they took time out to watch TV. At some point, both boys had pulled off their shirts, and now they sat on the floor side by side with their backs against the couch and their shoulders touching, watching Gunsmoke. Eric put his arm around Buster's shoulders and pulled him closer.

"I'm glad you came over tonight. You're a fun guy to be around."

Buster smiled. "I'm glad too. When Gary suggested it, I wasn't excited."

Eric chuckled. "When Mom mentioned it, I wasn't excited either."

Eric left his arm where it was, and Buster didn't object. If anything, he snuggled a little closer.

The show was over, the cookies were gone, and during the course of the evening, they'd cleaned up the leftover fried chicken and consumed two beers each. Eric decided the beer had been a good idea. The concept of social lubricant wasn't in his knowledge base, but that had been the effect. Eric smiled and squeezed Buster's neck.

"Ready for bed?"

"When are they supposed to be back from the dance?"

"Mom thinks we'll be having breakfast without them."

"I bet Gary's gonna take her to the no-tell motel. That's what he usually does."

Eric laughed. "I bet you're right." He stood and reached down to help Buster up. "Grab your bag. I'll show you my room."

Once in his bedroom, Eric turned on the desk lamp. Buster tossed his bag onto the floor and looked around. His eyes focused on a three-by-four-foot poster on the wall at the foot of the bed, another of Eric's mail-order purchases. This one he'd found in the magazine that Barry's brother gave him at the Eros Arcade.

Captioned Aloha, Haole Boy, the parody of a travel poster featured two naked adolescents on a deserted Hawaiian beach. The haole boy, a blonde, tanned wannabe-surfer, lay on his back on a beach towel. Kneeling between his raised knees was a dark-haired, muscular native boy a couple of years older.

The native boy's Hawaiian-print board shorts lay discarded on the sand nearby. An open bottle of coconut oil lay on the towel beside him. His surfboard leaned against a palm tree, and from its nose hung his confiscated trophy - a red, sand-covered Speedo matching the younger boy's tan lines.

Looking down at his conquest, the older boy's eyes were dark with lust, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a self-satisfied smirk. He held the haole boy down with his left forearm, while his right hand guided his steel-hard shaft inside.

Buster stared at the poster for a long time before speaking.

"What does haole mean?"

"It's the Hawaiian word for a white foreigner. Like gringo is in Mexico."

"What's the bottle of coconut oil for?"

"To grease his cock."

"Why does he need to do that?"

"If you're gonna screw a guy, you need something to help get it in. Coconut oil is good for that. K-Y jelly works okay, and spit or cum work too. Maybe someday they'll invent something better."

The boy looked again for a few moments.

"It's pretty hot. I'm surprised your mom let you put it up."

Eric dropped down on his back onto his new queen-size bed, happy he'd outgrown his bunk bed. This one worked better for sleepovers. He put his hands behind his head.

"She wasn't too happy about it, but we have an agreement that I can put what I want on my bedroom walls."

Buster looked down at Eric, surveying his body as if looking at it for the first time.

"I like your shorts. Do you sleep in them too?"

Eric removed his shorts and tossed them onto a chair revealing that, by the standards he'd mentioned to his mom, it was a good day.

"No, I sleep naked."

The pajamas in Buster's bag would remain there.

"So do I."

On Eric's desk lay the magazine he'd acquired at the arcade. Buster picked it up and turned to the centerfold, and then looked at the other pictures. All were of the same two boys as the poster, but the magazine covered their complete encounter. Eric smiled as Buster adjusted the front of his Levi's.

Buster pulled off his jeans, revealing that, like his older brother, he disdained underwear. He dropped down beside Eric on his back, mirroring his companion's hands-behind-the-head posture, unconcerned about his rigid cock.

Eric rolled onto his side and ran a hand over Buster's chest and abs, touching the tip of his pole as he went by.

"You've got a nice hard body for a seventh-grader. How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"Let me guess. You got held back once."

"Yeah, in the first grade."

Eric smiled. "Welcome to the club. I kind of like it now though. It gives me a year's edge on my classmates, which can be useful."

Buster smiled too. "I know what you mean."

He rolled onto his side and traced a line down the center of Eric's chest.

"You're a fun guy. I don't know why, but I thought you'd be boring."

Eric grinned. "Nobody's accused me of that yet." He paused. "Now that I know you better, wanna hear about the Eros Arcade and how I got the shirt?"

Buster grinned back. "Sure!"

They rolled onto their backs again and looked at the poster as Eric told about his arcade experience. He omitted the hitchhiking part. His experience with Gary would be a secret unless Gary wanted to reveal it. When he finished, Buster was stroking his pole, as horny as a two-peckered billy goat. He smiled at Eric.

"Got any more good stories?"

Eric told him about getting drilled by Randy at the retreat. As he told the story, Buster spit on his hand and continued to wank. When the story ended, Eric looked over at the younger boy. Jizz was splashed all over his chest and abs. He grinned at Eric.

"You're a good storyteller."

Eric laughed. "Your turn now."

Buster paused, embarrassed. "I don't have any stories to tell."

Eric rolled over and wrote his initials in Buster's spunk with his finger.

"Maybe this is the start of your first story. Did you ever taste your own cum?"

"No."

Eric moved closer to Buster and licked some of the jizz off his chest. Buster was shocked.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Eric grinned. "Making a story for you to tell."

Getting up on his hands and knees, he straddled Buster's upper body and then leaned down and kissed him firmly on the lips. Breaking off the kiss, he grinned as the surprised boy licked his lips.

"That's what your cum tastes like."

Slowly, Buster started to smile. "You're crazy."

"Uh-huh. But not boring."

Buster laughed. "I wanna be crazy like you."

Pushing Buster's legs apart, Eric knelt between them. Dropping down on top of the boy he kissed him again. This time Buster grabbed his head and kissed him back. The younger boy was already hard again. Eric rubbed their poles together and smiled to himself as Buster began to grind against him as well. He broke off the kiss and grinned down at the boy.

"Are you gonna remember all this for your story?"

"Oh, yeah!"

With a strength and speed that caught Eric by surprise, Buster rolled him over and reversed their positions. He grinned down at Eric.

"And I'm gonna make part of it myself."

Now it was Buster grinding his boner against Eric's abs. Eric smiled to himself. This was what he'd hoped would happen. Like his big brother, the boy had the makings of an assertive top, Eric's favorite kind.

Buster had learned enough from Eric and the magazine to know what to do. With a huge grin on his face, he lubricated his boner with spit and boy juice. Then, imitating the poster, he held Eric down with his forearm while he pushed his pole inside with his other hand.

"Yes!"

Eric laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?"

Eric grinned at him.

"You are. You're as impulsive as I am."

"What does that mean?"

"That you do stuff without thinking."

Suddenly aware that he'd pretty much raped his new friend, Buster became slightly subdued.

"Yeah, that gets me into trouble sometimes. Am I in trouble?"

Eric's grin broadened. "Not at all. You might be if you did that to someone like my friend Benji, but I'm loving it. You're as crazy as I am."

Buster slid his pole part way out and pushed it back in, smiling happily at the compliment.

"Thanks, buddy."

Eric ruffled the boy's hair.

"Now, are you gonna finish what you started?"

Buster spent the next fifteen minutes experimenting. Eric lay back and watched the changing expressions on the boy's face, and the happy grin every time he paused.

"How am I doing?"

Eric smiled encouragingly. "You're doing great."

"Is it fun for you too?"

"You bet it is. Mostly I'm enjoying how much fun you're having."

"Does it feel as good to you as it does to me?"

"After you're done, we'll do it the other way. Then you'll know the answer to that."

"Cool!"

Buster went back to his experiments. Eric wondered how long the kid would last. For his first time, he was demonstrating a lot of endurance.

Then Buster pushed himself over the edge. Driving in hard, he paused.

"Oh, shit!"

Eric thought the kid was having a seizure. The hard thrusts and moans went on for a good ten seconds before the boy collapsed on top of him.

"Oh, fuck!"

Eric rubbed his back gently. "Was that fun?"

"As my brother says, I haven't had so much fun since the school burned down."

Eric laughed. "Awesome. Now, do you wanna try it the other way?"

Buster pulled out and sat back on his heels with a smile.

"Sure! And then can I do it to you again?"

"Does Smokey the Bear shit in the woods?"

Buster laughed. "My brother says that all the time."

Eric smiled. "You can do it to me as many times as you want to."

 ************

It was late Sunday morning. Gary and Buster had left, and Eric was having a second breakfast with his mom. He'd never seen her so relaxed and happy. She brought herself back to the present.

"Did you have a good time with Buster?"

He smiled reminiscently. "We had a great time. He's a good chess player. How about you?"

She looked out the window and sighed.

"Gary is a lot of fun, but he's too young for me."

Eric's response was immediate and firm.

"Bullshit. If you're having fun, go for it."

She looked at him closely. It was her son's opinion that concerned her the most.

"You mean that, don't you?"

"You bet I do. Besides, it's a simple matter of mathematics."

"What do you mean?"

He raised a finger as if giving a lecture.

"Thirty-eight goes into thirty-eight once, but nineteen goes into thirty-eight twice. What you oughta do is go out with Buster. Since he's only thirteen, you'd get it three times... No, Mom... Don't hit me... I was just kidding about Buster."

He quickly left before she could do him bodily harm.

Posted: 03/10/2023