The Anniversary

By Joe Camp (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on May 21, 1999

Gay

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The Anniversary Codes (handicapped, masturbation, oral) By Joe Camp and Pete idc90@hotmail.com

Warning: The following story contains sex between two teen-age males. If male/male sex offends you, or you are under-age, find something else.

This story depicts unprotected gay sex. No one in the story can catch anything unless I, the author that made them up, want them to. That's not real life if you wish to reach old age. Be safe.

The following is a fictionalized version of a true story as told to me by Pete. All names have been changed to protect all persons and their families. E-mail to Pete will be forwarded by the author, idc90@hotmail.com. Pete is currently exploring more and more of his bi side. Ken is a very private person, and will remain in the closet.

This story is copyrighted 1999 by the author. Placing this story on a web site without the authors permission is a violation of that copyright.

***************************************************** The Anniversary By Joe Camp

The drive has been long and tiring. Maybe we should have flown, but I wanted to drive. The Lincoln is new, and we have had no trouble with it. I'm sure glad the air conditioner blew cold, coming across the deserts. Yes, I have enjoyed the drive. Peg has been a little bored, but she knew I needed to see the country side once more, even though it is a long way from our home in L.A.

I don't remember that K-Mart being there. It seems there wasn't anything between Alamogordo and the turn off. Only a few more miles, now. Just take a couple of hours.

It's sure nice of Ken and Sherry to invite us up to the ranch for our 35th anniversary. We were married just two months apart, right out of college. Sherry told me; when was it? 3 maybe 4 years ago, that Ken had told her everything about him and me, before they were married. She kissed me, and said "thank you." We had a few smiles together, and then a good long cry. I've never told Peg everything about Ken and me. She doesn't know we were teen-aged lovers. Ken was best man at my wedding, and I was his.

Fifteen years since we have been to the ranch. How time does fly. I remember when I felt deprived if we didn't get to go to the ranch every few months, and to have to spend a summer somewhere else! I'm glad we have been able to get together every year at either their place in Florida, or them coming out to L.A., but I have missed the ranch.

Yes, I remember the first time I saw that little brown haired kid in the fourth grade. Just one look, and I knew we would be best friends. We were both popular, but somehow, even with all the kids wanting our attention, we bonded. It only took two days for Ken to know we were best friends. Ken's Dad used to say, "Ken and Pete are joined at the hip." Hehehe, he didn't know how close to the truth that was, after we went through puberty.

Looks like they have been doing some work on the highway. It's a lot wider then it used to be. My, My. Four lanes in some places now. Boy. Back in the late 50's and early 60's, some of these curves could get scary. Meet a truck, and the road was so narrow, someone better be hitting the shoulder.

Ken's dad used to get upset, on this stretch of road, when he would bring our whole scout troop up. We were kids, screaming and yelling, we had to have gotten on his nerves, after he had told us to quiet down for the 50th time. I think he always dreaded this part of the drive. I wish he would be there to meet us. I was really sorry when he passed away. He was just like my 2nd Dad, and we couldn't have had a better Scout Master. Yes, the road is much better now. The speed limit has been raised. It seems like it used to be 25 and 35 MPH, way back when.

There is the tunnel. I'll switch on my lights. I see it hasn't been widened out. Just the same as always. I never can resist blowing the horn all the way through. Ken's dad always did that too. Peg is looking at me, with that "won't you ever grow up" look. I don't care.

The Lincoln National Forest starts before the tunnel, but I never feel I'm in the Sacramento Mountains, until I get through the tunnel. The water pipe isn't too far away. We always stopped for a drink of pure cold mountain spring water. It wasn't marked, but there were always cars parked there, and it was easy to find. I think half of Alamogordo came up to fill their drinking water jugs. Ken's Dad would always stop there and be the scout master, as he pointed out the different plants, and flowers. Ken's Dad was a naturalist and conservationist and taught us to love all about nature and the environment.

Well, it looks as if it's still not marked, but with three cars parked there, that has to be it. I'll just pull in behind that blue car.

Ah, best tasting water I've ever had. Peg is looking at me wondering why I'm giggling. I just remembered about Bill Linch. I wonder if that patch of poison ivy that he fell into is still over there. That must have been when we were 10 or 11, and we all had shorts on. It didn't take long for him to have a rash everywhere. I had to feel sorry for him. He even got the rash on his little dick. He couldn't wear underwear or pants. Ken's Mother cut off some old nightgowns for him to wear. The rest of us were merciless, we were awful to him, making fun of him! We called him Pansy Baboon butt! And sissy boy, and yelling "hiiiiiiii Biiiiiilll, love your drrrrrress. I guess I'll tell her about that. Hahaha, was it Terry that brought him the bouquet of flowers he picked?

Good old Bill, I haven't thought about him in years. I wonder what ever happened to him? He was always a part of our group, until they moved away when he was 15. It didn't bother us that his dad was a truck driver and his mom was a waitress in a cafe. I'm sure it embarrassed him a bit. Ken's dad was CEO of that big corporation, and my dad headed one of the biggest law firms in Dallas. It never mattered to the rest of us. Well, I guess I did fell sorry for him. The trailer his family lived in could have been parked in our dinning room, with room to spare.

Hump! Joined at the hips. We both went through puberty when we were 13. It didn't take us long to figure out how to push our skinny little hips together, and jack each other off. When we first started, Ken could have me shooting my thin boy cum, in 10 or 12 jerks. Course what he did to me before hand, always had me ready.

I'll never forget that first time. We had been in their pool out in the back yard. Hell, that was some pool. As good as the one over at the university. We had been practicing laps, as we had made it onto our junior high swim team. Oh, we did have fun on the junior high and freshman swim teams, before the accident. I wonder if Ken still has his letterman's jacket. I do! I'm sure he has his.

We had gone to Ken's bedroom, to take a shower before dinner, and he stripped off his speedo's. I always got hard looking at his hot body. I really had a problem at school when we would take our showers, just to keep from wooding out, every time I saw him.

Ken glanced over at me, and had the biggest grin on his face, as he saw my hard-on inside my speedo's. His dick went up like a hot air balloon. Hell, I wasn't bashful around Ken. We went skinny dipping all the time. If the water was deep enough to swim in, we were in it. We have been chased a few times by cotton mouths. If you've never seen speed from two bare assed boys swimming, try getting chased by a water snake. It wasn't like it was the first time he ever saw me hard. Ever since we had known each other, when we went skinny dipping, one or the other of us would bone up at least once, and it was usually both of us.

I slipped off my speedo's, and we got into the shower. Yeah, we had been taking showers together since we were 10. We were drying off, when we got to arguing about who had the most hair down there. I don't remember either of us as having more then six or seven dark hairs, but we got to arguing, and touching, and all of a sudden, Ken grabbed hold of my 4.5 inch hard-on, and started jacking me off. Well, hell, here is my best friend taking care of me, and it didn't take much before I spewed my little load. I hit him on the tummy, and watched it run down.

Of course I had to return the favor. I took Ken between my thumb and forefinger, and did him real slow. He was moaning, before he shot his load onto me. Well, we had to get back in the shower, and after playing a little more grab ass, finally got clean and dressed for dinner.

That guy that is horse back riding looks a lot like Old Slim used too. Ha, he would sure have gotten upset, if he had known we called him Old Slim. He was probably somewhere in his 30's then, but to a 12 year-old, that's old. It can't be him, though. He would have to be in his 70's or 80's now. Oh, how we did enjoy horse back riding. With the 15 to 20 hired hands Ken's folks had at the ranch, there were always plenty of horses to chose from.

Most of the hands slept nude, and Ken and I would always try to spend the late evening in the bunkhouse. That's where I learned to play poker. I wonder if the hands still sleep naked? Ken told me a few years ago, they got satellite TV. Would have been kind of nice if we had had TV at the ranch when we were kids. Yeah, the checker games were fun too. Our being there didn't stop any of the hands from stripping and taking their shower or just laying down on their bunk. We tried to be at the bunk house, as they were getting up in the mornings, just so we could see their piss hard-ons. The cocks on those 20 and 30 year-old men looked real big to us 12 year-olds.

Thinking of old Gabby always makes me smile. I guess every cook on every ranch was called Gabby in those days. Gabby Hayes made the ranch cook famous in the old western movies, and Gabby even looked like him. He did like his drink though. He was really funny and half ripped most of the time, but a fantastic cook. When was it? The year before the accident? Yeah, it must have been when we were 15. The guys would tease him and tell him if he fucked up dinner, they would hold him down and take turns "cornholing" him. He would just giggle like a school girl, swig some whisky and say, "if you think you're big enough, come ahead." Ken and me never knew what "big enough" meant. We always assumed they were kidding, but now, I'm not so sure, who knows what went on when we weren't around?

Well, it doesn't look like Cloudcroft has changed much. That looks like a new volunteer fire station. I wonder if they still use that old World War II, Army surplus ambulance? That thing might have been old, but it could all but fly.

I think I'll drive by the old drug store. It had been closed down the last time we were here, but I would just kind of like to see it. Ken and I spent many an hour there before the accident, flirting with the girls. They did make a mean root beer float. The old theater looks as if it hasn't been used in years either. We spent many a Saturday morning there watching the latest Flash Gordon or The Three Stooges. Ken got his fist feel in that theater when we were 12.

Well, it doesn't look as if the little town has grown any. Might as well head on to the ranch. Hum, there are a few new side roads. Ok, there is the turn up ahead. Now, just 15 miles of bad dirt road. Oh! It has been paved. That's nice. I wonder how far. There is the old Miller place. Ken and I would ride some horses over and just visit once in a while. It was always a good excuse to go horse back riding. Not that we really needed an excuse. I remember when they had their grandson's birthday party there. Let's see, that would have been the summer we were 11. I wonder who owns the place now?

Yeah, we never needed an excuse to go horse back riding before the accident. We would grab a couple of horses, and ride out to the pond. Man, those were great days. Skinny dipping, and then laying in the sun as we dried, and doing a few other things. I don't think I'll ever forget that jack-off session we had that one time, when we were 15.

We had spent a couple of hours swimming and playing grab ass in the pond. It was late in the summer, and the water was clear. We could see the trout jumping, and swimming near the top of the pond. We had been practicing our dives off the big boulder we used as a diving board. Ken would look over at me, when he knew he was making a good dive, and grin. When we got tired, we would lay out on the grass under the pines, and talk.

Ken started lightly running his hand up and down the inside of my thighs. He would get almost to my nuts, then go back down. He was driving me crazy, and he knew it. He had my nuts tight up against my body, without ever touching them or my dick. He lightly brushed the back of his hand across my nuts, and I had a hard time keeping from exploding. He took my dick in his hand, and slowly started massaging it as he jacked me up and down.

Every nerve in my body, was tingling and taunt as Ken brought me to my climax. It seemed as if I could feel the sound of the birds, that were singing in the big pine trees above us. The smells were so crisp, so clean. I could smell the smell of Ken, mixed with the smell of the pine trees, and the wild flowers growing near by. Gently, he rubbed his thumb into the pre-cum leaking from my slit, and spread it around the fat head of my dick. His thumb was lightly running around the ridge of my dick-head, as I shuddered and screamed my pleasure. I became part of the puffy white clouds, drifting by above us, as I pumped my nuts dry of my cum.

Ken took me in his arms, and hugged me close to him, as I recovered from my intense orgasm. Never had it been so intense for me. The whole world looked different as I started to recover. Ken held me for the longest time, grinning and running his fingers through the cum on my chest, not saying a word, as I basked in my climax. We spent a lot of time at the pond the rest of that summer, as we tried to once again achieve that height.

There is the last turn off for the ranch. Hum, it still hasn't been paved. Oh well, just 4 miles of unpaved road now. We sure had fun when Ken's Dad took us all on a picnic to that mountain over there. That was when we were still in the scouts, and he had the whole troop up. That man knew more about nature and conservation, then anyone I have ever met. He made sure everyone in his troop learned and got their badges.

There's the gate. Only 3/4 mile up to the house now. It looks as if it's going to be a good year for the ranch. The grass is thick and lush. Those are some fine healthy looking steers over there.

There's the main house. I've never seen another house as big as it, built out of logs. Come to think of it, I've stayed at smaller hotels. Well, there was that ski lodge in Colorado. It was built of logs and was a lot bigger. But it still has what? Eight bedrooms? Even after Ken's Dad had two converted into a massage room and Jacuzzi after the accident. I wonder if Ken has converted the big basement game room? Talk about huge. I've seen smaller dance halls. The whole basement was nothing but a game room, and kitchen, and wine cellar. Hehehe, it sure got noisy with all the scout troop down there. Yeah, I guess they did need an hotel for all of us back then.

I guess I'll never forget that time Ken and I snuck down to the wine cellar in the basement. It was always cool, and we got ripped to the tits on some of Ken's Dad's best special wine. Boy, we had fun messing around with each others dicks that day. I thought his Dad was going to KILL us when he found out we had been in his good wine. If we hadn't been so sick with incredible hang overs for days, he just might have. He made us get up early the next morning and work with the hands. I WILL NEVER FORGET IT. Oh God, we thought that we weren't going to survive. When Ken's Dad got us out of bed, we were afraid we were going to die, by noon, we were afraid were WEREN'T going to die. The hands were merciless, they kidded us all day, offering us whiskey. When we would get sick, they called us pussies, pansies, and wimps, any awful thing they could think of. They laughed and made fun of us for YEARS!!

I regret that other time, after the accident, we I got into his dad's best real, Napoleon Brandy. The real stuff. After putting it on our cocks, we licked it off each other. That time, I almost got sent home. He was so mad, he couldn't even talk. I'm glad he never found out I had been licking it off his son's dick. I wonder how many hundreds of dollars worth we licked up that day? That and the day of the accident, were the only times I ever saw Ken's Dad close to tears.

I'll just park there to the right of the wheelchair ramp. Oh, Lord. 42 years ago, and I still see the accident as if it was yesterday. It was early in the spring of the year we were 16. We had just gotten here, and couldn't wait to get to the pond and go swimming.

We had ridden the horses out to the pond, where we had swam a million times. It was so beautiful. By mid-summer, the water would be crystal clear, and you would see the trout swimming. But, that past winter had been bad, and the water was still cloudy.

We knew that pond like the back of our hands, we knew every rock and every boulder in the bottom. Ken had been swimming there his entire life, I had been, for years. There was NOTHING of danger there. The only danger was sunburn or the occasional bear that would come down to drink, and even then there was no danger unless she had cubs. All the wild animals knew us and ignored us.

Ken climbed up on the rock that both he and I had dived off a thousand times. He did the most beautiful swan dive I had ever seen, he knew it too, because he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face, as he looked at me. He would usually came up toward the center of the pond. That time he didn't.

I looked around thinking he was playing with me. Still he hadn't come up. I remember I started getting mad, because he was scaring me. So I was yelling at him to come up. Then he floated to the surface; back up, face down.

I yelled for him to stop it, but he didn't move. I started to wade out to him, but the bottom was full of rocks and I kept falling. I got to him and pulled his head up and he had been knocked out. I was screaming and yelling, trying to make him wake up. Zed and Josh were riding near by, on their way to mend a fence. They heard my hysterical screaming, and ran their horses to us. I couldn't get Ken out of the water. I was slipping and falling on all the rocks that a storm had caused a land slide to wash down to the bottom of the pond.

I was hysterical, Zed and Josh knew something bad had happened. Zed took off for the house to get the jeep, running his horse all the way. Josh jumped in the pond, and almost broke his leg, he got cut up pretty badly, but the two of us were able to get Ken out of the water, and onto the grass.

Josh started giving Ken mouth to mouth resuscitation, and Ken started spitting and coughing. I was sobbing and screaming at him, as I asked if he was alright. He told us he hurt all over, and asked me to please straighten out his legs, as they hurt, folded up under him. I looked and his legs were straight. I pleaded to Josh, crying and sobbing, "pleaseeeeee help him, pleaseeeeee."

Zed was back with the jeep and Ken's Mother and Dad came in the pickup, along with half the hands. Ken's Dad knew he was in big trouble. So five of them picked him up. There were two on each side of Ken, and one holding his head. While they were putting Ken in the pickup, I was still hysterical and coming apart. Ken's Mother came over to me, held me and said, "Pete, what ever happens, it will be all right, Ken is alive, we are very lucky", then she smiled and said, "you better put some cloths on if you're going to town with us". Ken and I had been skinny dipping, and we had been naked that whole time, but I didn't care.

Ken's Dad was afraid to dress him, as he didn't want to mess with Ken's legs or back. When they put Ken in the pickup, someone took a couple of blankets off the horses. They put him on a blanket and covered him with the other. I hopped in the pickup bed with Ken, and several of the hands, so we could cushion him and keep him stable over the rough road to the house. They slowly drove back to the house.

Zed drove the jeep at break-neck speed, to get to the phone at the house. Thankfully, one of the hands had already called for the ambulance at Cloudcroft. Even though it was only 15 miles, it would take 45 minutes to an hour for the volunteer crew to get here over the rough dirt roads. Ken's Dad decided to transfer Ken to the Scout, and start to town to meet the ambulance half-way down the canyon's rocky dirt road.

We met the ambulance about 20 minutes later. You could hear the loud siren bouncing off the canyon walls for miles. They carefully transferred Ken to the ambulance, and the doctor from Cloudcroft was with them. The doctor was a close friend of Ken's Dad, and he told him Ken was in bad shape, although he wouldn't know how bad until they got him to the hospital in Alamogordo, for x-rays and tests. He told him to get Ken's Mother prepared for bad news.

Once we got to the pavement, the driver started pouring on the speed. We flew through Cloudcroft doing at least 55 miles an hour. I'm sure he hit 60 MPH at some places. I had never gone down the mountain that fast. With that extra loud siren on the old surplus Army ambulance, screaming to clear the way, we made Alamogordo in record time.

We got to the emergency room, and everything was ready. People were waiting for Ken to arrive, so they could do their jobs. They got him into the x-ray room, and started taking their pictures. The doctors saw some fractured and compressed vertebra, but not much more. Thank God, his neck was not broken. He had feeling, but couldn't move his legs.

The doctors there, said they couldn't do anything for him at that hospital. Ken would have to go home to a specialist. Right then, Ken's Dad got on the phone and chartered a plane. In less then an hour, we took off for Dallas.

Over the next couple of years, Ken must have had a dozen operations. Finally, everyone gave up, and decided to wait until technology and techniques improved. So far, they never have.

Ken still preferred to be in water, even after the accident. He said that was when he felt normal. The male nurse he had for the first six months after he got back home, taught me how to give him his massages and help take care of him. I would give him his bath, then a massage. We had been taking baths together most of our lives, so I didn't see any reason to stop then. The massage would often give Ken a hard-on, so I just took care of jacking him off at the same time. Sometimes, he would do me, as I stood beside the massage table. Sometimes, we would wait until we could lay hip to hip on his bed.

When we went back to school that fall, all of our friends treated Ken like they were glad to see him, but it was different. We didn't get invited to their parties and activities anymore. There were a few of the old crowd that stuck with us, but not many. When a new kid would meet Ken, it seemed they thought he had a mental disability too. That hurt Ken a lot.

We went back to our old activities. We would go camping on week-ends, or run out to a swimming pond for a few hours. A few of our fiends would still join us once in a while. We still had great sex together, and were best friends in everything. We just had to learn how to cope with the wheelchair.

It was one night while we were soaking in the Jacuzzi, that we gave each other our first blow jobs. I guess we were about 17 then. We had already taken our bath, and Ken had been given his massage. We were both relaxed and playful. We had been playing a little grab ass, and wrestling around. Ken grabbed my dick and gave it a couple of jerks. Before I knew what he was doing, he ducked his head under the water and took my hard dick in his mouth. He started sucking, and as you might suspect, I was soon pumping my cum into his hot sucking mouth.

Nothing really changed, when we went back up to the ranch. Oh, we had to make adjustments for his wheelchair and such. Ken couldn't ride a horse anymore and we both missed that. We took Old Rusty, the jeep, everywhere. We still went out to the pond for swimming, and sex, but we never trusted it again. I would always go in first, to find if any rocks or boulders had shifted around. Only then, would I let Ken swim.

Oh, man! That last trip up to the pond before we started college! I'll never be able to forget that time. With Ken swimming and diving between my legs, and making sure he had a lot of contact with my rock hard dick, as he rubbed against me, I thought for sure he was going to make me blow my load. I was so horny by the time we got out, and laying on the sun warmed grass, that I couldn't stand it any more. I had to go down on him.

I gently opened his skinny legs. I started licking at that very tender spot, just under his ball sac. Oh, that always drove him mad. I knew every hot button on his body, and I pushed them all. I slid up his body, and sucked and nipped at his nipples, until they couldn't get any harder, or more peaked. They were like hard nobs under my tongue before I moved on. I nibbled at his collar bone. He sure liked for me to do that. Kisses down those hard abs. Then back to those big full balls. I licked and sucked on each of those until they were fast against his body.

Ken was groaning and squirming his upper body, begging for me to finish the job. I wasn't ready. I wanted more of his hot young body. He was pulling at my head, trying to get my mouth over his throbbing cock. I took my time. I lapped at the pulsing shaft of his dick. I could feel every beat of his racing heart, through his dick, as my tongue worked towards his fat dick-head.

At last, my tongue was just below the swollen purple head of his cock. Ken was sobbing, cussing me because my mouth wasn't over his glans. He would have been humping hard, if he could have. I licked my lips, and let him force my head down. The clean taste of his young manhood greeted me. I started bobbing up and down on that throbbing piece of meat, as I first sucked gently, then harder as Ken moaned a loud long sigh.

Ken was screaming, and his head was flopping from side to side, as he pumped his hot cum into my waiting mouth. He just kept shooting, over and over. Seven maybe as much as eight squirts of his teen boy juice left his throbbing cock, to be deposited in my mouth. Finally he relaxed, as I sucked a few more dribbles of cum, from his softening dick. He took care of my needs, as soon as he had recovered, but I think that may have been the hardest cum Ken ever had. I'm glad I was able to give it to him. I had better stop thinking about it, before Peg notices I'm getting hard.

The night before we were to leave for college, was the last time we ever had sex together. I would be heading to California, as Ken went back East. We spent most of the night jacking each other off, and giving each other blow-jobs. Ken drained me that night. I couldn't have gotten hard again that night if my life depended on it. Whenever I heard the term pussy-whipped after that, I knew from experience, what they meant.

There is Ken and Sherry coming out to meet us. They look good. Peg is hugging Sherry, as I bend down to hug Ken, my old buddy. I had to ask if the jeep at the side of the house was the same Old Rusty. Ken laughed as he gave me a wink, and said yes.

We caught up on how all of our kids were doing, before Peg and I went to our bedroom to unpack and change for dinner. I couldn't help but smile when I saw that big bath tub. On one of our trips up after the accident, Ken and I were in the tub in his bathroom, jacking each other off. His dad accidentally walked in on us. He only said, "oops, sorry", left and closed the door. After we saw how his dad had reacted, we cracked up, and quickly finished each other off. His dad never said a word about it, nor ever mentioned it later. But we know he saw everything. Maybe, he just thought we needed each other and it was ok. He never changed his attitude toward us, always included me and considered me as another son. I came up here many more times after that, and then, after we were married, came back with my wife.

The dinner table is beautiful, and as Ken raised his glass, he toasted us and said he hoped we had been as happy the last 35 years, as he and Sherry have been. I just raised my glass, as I smiled my silent toast to my sexy, best friend.

The End

Comments: idc90@hotmail.com Flames Happily Ignored :) I answer all e-mails. Mail to Pete will be forwarded.

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