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By 99PercentStraight (backinthehayloftagain@yahoo.com)


This is a true story, and happened not long ago...

I knew, as soon as I got the wedding invitation that I would end up in a 69 with Donny. It had been years and years since we'd last seen each other, though my mom and his mom filled each other in on life's progress.

Donny was a rich kid who grew up on the farm next to ours. We had horses, but they had HORSES. We had a barn, but they had A BARN. I'm OK with all that, but there are fun horsey people and there are snotty horse people, and Donny's family was certainly the latter.

When we were 18, much younger than we are now, Donny and I had the most incredible, ongoing suck fest relationship going on that you could imagine. We both seemed to be in some sort of state of undress with some combination of friends, neighbors and relatives (all roughly our age) at all times, though it was Donny and I who were at the heart of it. Our moms just had to holler towards the barns to find us, and that all seemed just fine with everyone.

Donny and I had the most comical routine when we would 69... when we got close to coming, one or the other of us would gasp or grunt some variation of "ready!' or "ready?" And then that was the signal to absolutely gulp each other's dicks like madmen until we came, and as we came, to squeeze each other really tight while 69ing, and get as much dick into our mouths as possible and have our come splash down the back of each other's throats, and sort of twitch like that for a minute or so until we stopped coming. I shit you not, it was that funny!

As we grew older, I was more the soccer type, and Donny became more the football type. He also started to become more of the conservative Republican type that he was born to be, and this would have been OK, except it carried with it all the selfish baggage that you see in mean spirited frat boys.

We grew apart as friends over time, though still sucked like kooks whenever we felt like it. I remember a last straw with Donny was seeing him harass a kid as a faggot, while he and the fellow next to him, another wise guy tough jock kid, were both guys that I had seen suck each other off any number of times, laughing while cum burbled out of each other's mouths and the whole bit!

In time, our various friends paired off with correct members of the opposite sex, and we all went our separate ways, as people naturally do. I went to the university, traveled the world quite a bit, and then ended up back in the same general area that I came from, though not too close. I became an academic. Donny went to law school and then settled onto a political path, conservative and local, to no one's surprise.

Anyway, his baby sister was getting married. There were three sisters, and I had clamped my face onto the mystery spot of two of them many a time up in that hayloft. The baby was a late surprise and was definitely NOT a part of the neighborhood sex play. She was a little darling that we all looked out for, and now I was happy to receive the invite to her wedding. The reception was to be at their farm, of course... and why not? The place was beautiful and huge.

Donny was everything I expected he would be... uninspired conservative suit, terrible shoes, though expensive, lame haircut, all things that help in the world he had chosen. As we shook hands for the first time in years, I knew full well that we would end up in the hay loft, sucking dicks again for the first time (for me, anyway) in at least 15 years.

I couldn't help feeling a little melancholy about it, as well as incredibly excited... why is our society such that I couldn't safely find a friend to 69 with while remaining in my straight world? Someone who shared my general outlook on life, my bent for a warm laugh and a real smile, a kind nature (which is NOT in Donny's soul), a devotion to music and art and the outdoors and fun?

During the reception, Donny asked the inevitable question... would I like to tour the property? "Sure," I said, though there were several old friends of both sexes at the reception that I'd messed around with that I might have asked the same question to. We walked and talked for a few minutes, making a slight zigzag to end up at the barn. "Remember all this?"

"Yes, I do," I laughed...

WE both headed right upstairs when we got inside. The 'sweat box' had been transformed into a studio apartment at some point, and there was an air conditioner on somewhere. The door actually had a lock! "C'mon, let's mess with it!" Donny said as he frantically unbuttoned his clothes. I didn't need any convincing, and the next thing you know we were on the bed with our heads at opposite ends.

I slipped his dick gently into my mouth, really tasting it and feeling its silky texture for perhaps the first time. I loved it. I really loved it, but in a fun sort of funny way, if that makes any sense to you. I play with his balls and squeezed them and rolled them and licked them. I squeezed his butt as I lifted my head up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down.

Donny was moving a little more frantically and I could tell where he was headed. "Ready!" he mumbled loudly through my dick. "NO!," I hollered, with his dick out of my mouth, a little more loudly than I had intended. "What the hell?" he asked. "I haven't done this in more that 15 years, and I'll be damned if I'm going to rush it!!!!"

We settled into a more delicious, leisurely pace, and eventually finished off just like we always had in the past. I liked the taste, it was if it was brand new to me, and we both splashed and swallowed, just like the old days.

Perhaps this story will find me a local friend in PA, NJ, DE, MD, or NY... someone cool in a relaxed way, someone like me, so I don't have to wait another 15 years to try this again!

See you all in the hayloft!