Westcott Family Farm
Copyright© 2021 – Nicholas Hall
“We now to peace and darkness
And earth and thee restore
Thy creature that thou madest
And wilt cast forth no more”
( A. E. Hausman)
Mrs. Boyer asked us to pick up a half-dozen boxes of quart freezer bags, half-dozen boxes of pint freezer bags, and a couple of cases of wide-mouth quart canning jars with rings and lids, and three gallon of milk after we finished our appointment with Dr. Anderson. Mattie was quite content for us to make a stop at a big-box super-store in order to make our purchases. In fact, he was sort of bouncing on his heels as we walked inside the store.
“You’re a pretty happy boy, aren’t you, Mattie?”
He just grinned up at me, nodded his head up and down, and clasping his hand in mine, swinging our arms forward and back as we pushed the cart toward the truck.
I’d failed to ask Mrs. Boyer concerning her need for all of the canning and freezing supplies. As we were unloading and putting things away, I asked her.
“I noticed,” she answered, “as I looked over your pantry and freezer, you have plenty of room for frozen and canned vegetables. Why should you pay retail prices when so much is available here on the farm? It’s going to take a fair amount to feed those growing hungry boys of your’s.”
She was absolutely correct! Andy and I just ate fresh in season and purchased frozen or canned during the off-seasons such as winter. With just of the two of us in the house, we didn’t eat that much and we ate out often. Well, times have changed and so will our buying habits and food consumption in our house. Neither Andy nor I really realized the quantities it’d take for what would be soon, eight of us.
“With so many available and willing hands to help,” Mrs. Boyer commented, “we can easily pick, process, and store all sort of varieties of fruits and vegetables and have them available all winter long or anytime we want them.”
Mattie seemed to be unconcerned about his session in town, but I’m certain the message concerning the results was conveyed to his brothers somehow, in some manner, that all went well. Andy was home so he sat in while I informed Janet what happened and the proposed therapy Mattie would have. She seemed most relieved.
“Jacob,” she smiled, “I knew I could count on you to do the best for my boys. Andy and you have been so good and kind to them and me.”
Our conversation must have taken a toll on her since she fell asleep while we sat there. Andy and I left quietly so not to disturb her.
“She’s slipping fast, isn’t she?” I asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Andy said sadly. “I’ve traded shifts with a fellow co-worker so I’ll begin working days tomorrow instead of the evening shift. I’ve also ordered a hospice nurse beginning next week. I think it may be a stressful week for all of us. I’ve increased her pain meds so she’ll be resting more and more now, with less pain.”
Mrs. Boyer was delayed in leaving, although four-thirty to five o’clock was her usual time we’d set for her work day, when Paul was later than usual from work. Robbie and he came trotting up the sidewalk, freshly showered, hair still wet, but faces glowing from more than just the shower and the end of the work day.
Robbie thought they had an excellent reason for being a bit tardy. It was only fifteen minutes or so. It’d been a hard and dirty day in the fields. The morning started with moving irrigation pipes and “travelers”, next there were lessons for Paul and him teaching them how to drive one of the small tractors used for plowing, cultivating, and disking vegetable fields. It was hot and dirty work! In the afternoon, they’d spent some time working in the cattle pastures cutting weeds with a sickle-bar mower blade attached to a tractor. They learned ridding the pasture of weeds provided better and thicker “fodder” for the critters.
“It’s not goats we’re raising,” Ted advised. “It’s cattle and their appetites are much different.”
In terms of appetites, Lee and he both thought the two teen boys would have delicious morsels to offer, if and when they thought they wanted to share. Since one was the boss’s nephews, neither wanted to face Jacob’s wrath should they ever be discovered sucking or fucking one of his nephews.
Paul and Robbie’s day finally ended cleaning one of the small warehouses and cooler, preparing the for harvest of homegrown and purchased vegetables and fruit. They were dirty, hot, and horny by the end of the day.
Robbie was smitten with Paul Boyer from day one and could barely keep his hands off of him. Common sense and restraint, garnered from experience, dictated he keep his hands and other body parts to himself when others were in close, visual proximity, although he didn’t think it’d bother Ted and Lee. He’d often heard familiar sounds in the men’s bathroom, recognizing Ted’s voice for Lee to “pack it deeper” and figured they weren’t filling garbage bags. Far from it!
The first day Robbie and Paul worked together, Robbie was in desperate need of a piss and so informed Paul of his need, hoping he’d decide to join him as well. As sure as shit stinks, Paul followed Robbie into the brush along the field they were working in. Robbie slid his fat, uncut cock out of his fly, held it loosely in such a manner so Paul had an excellent, unobstructed view, and turned slightly so Paul just couldn’t miss the sight.
Paul’s eyes popped open and became fixed on the fleshy tube, centering on the size, the color, the apparent softness, watching it increase in size as he fished his now stiff, five-inch, circumcised spike from his pants.
“Cut,” murmured Robbie appreciatively in praise of the smaller, nicely formed, almost irresistible teen-cock pointing straight out from Paul’s fly.
Paul watched expectantly, rife with anticipation, shivering slightly, his cock bobbing as Robbie reached over with a free hand carefully and ever so gently clasp the hand carefully around the object of his fascination. A low moan was elicited from Paul when Robbie’s hand slid up to just below the exposed, throbbing head. He used one finger to slowly, softly tickle the tip, bringing a shudder from Paul.
Paul looked at Robbie and with a nod from Robbie indicating his approval, moved his hand toward the now stiff, fat, long appendage, head now freed from the encumbrance of foreskin, and put his hand around it.
“Oh, my god!” he sighed, having touched another boy’s cock for the first time. “Beautiful! So soft, so hard, so big!”
His tactile and visual appreciation was interrupted by Robbie. “We better piss and get back to work before we’re missed.”
Parting was such sweet sorrow, it seemed to Paul.
The first time Robbie knelt in front of Paul, pulled out Paul’s cock, and took it in his mouth, sucking him to the root, it was fortunate Robbie held him by the waist since when he came, he almost collapsed.
Just as certain as fat puppies farting, little boys fiddling with their diddlers, horse cocks looking gargantuan, and teen boys perpetually horny and hard, Robbie decided to up the game and grab the brass ring or in this case, a small, slightly brownish color, puckered one, from an extremely willing, horny, and begging Paul.
Robbie and Paul were the last ones in the small locker room and hence the last to shower. All of this by design! Stripping their work clothes off, grabbing a wash cloth and shower gel, their stiff, erect cocks pointing the way, they headed to the shower. There, the intent was to scrub clean, rinse, and- well, see what comes up or stays up!
Surprise, surprise! What came up, stayed up, - both of them! Paul’s hard cock pointed straight up from the root toward his navel, balls in a firm, smooth sack attached beneath, while Robbie’s substantial, compared to Paul’s, prick with a gentle banana curve, thick, helmet fully exposed by the retracted foreskin, reaching almost to his nave, balls hanging pendulously in a relatively smooth, wobbly sack, twitched at the sight of Paul’s nearly hairless, smooth body, specifically the nicely formed butt, split by a delightful valley beckoning his call.
“Oh, my god!” moaned Robbie in delight and eagerness, as he leaned over Paul’s shoulder, cock rubbing between Paul’s butt cheeks, and whispered, “Ever been fucked?”
Paul pushed his butt back tighter against Robbie’s hard staff and leaned forward slightly.
“It may hurt at first,” warned Robbie as he carefully soaped up Paul’s front and back, paying particular attention to the beautiful butt before him. He smeared, massaged, and fondled Paul’s sweet butt cheeks with one hand while slowly masturbating Paul’s throbbing cock with the other. Briefly stopping his ministrations to Paul in order to lather up his own butt-breaker, he stepped forward, bent Paul over a little more, lined up the head of his cock with Paul’s small, wrinkled rear entrance, and pushed forward just a little, enough to spread the pucker open, somewhat.
“This’ll hurt,” he warned again.
“So?” Paul questioned just as Robbie poked his cock-head through the resisting portal. “YES, IT DOES!”
“Can’t say as I didn’t warn you, but it’ll ease out in a minute.”
“So, you’re the expert?” grimaced Paul as Robbie made a further intrusion.
“Not so much expert as just a little more experienced.”
“God, Robbie, you’re really, really big!” Paul squealed as he felt Robbie’s curly crotch hairs tickle his butt cheeks.
“Not near as big as I’ll be someday,” conjectured Robbie, “if my Uncle Jake is any indication.”
With that and a nod of approval from Paul, he began some eager, diligent fucking while stroking Paul’s cock in rhythm with his own back and forth motions until both found relief, Paul on Robbie’s hand and the shower room wall, and, Robbie, deep in Paul’s rectum in such quantity the overflow oozed out around his cock and dribbled to the shower room floor, to be washed away by the cascading water.
It was so nice, cuddled up with Andy after the boys were in bed, holding him, reveling in his warm embrace and inhaling his unique scent, both of well satisfied sexually – for once without the interruption of our nephews.
“I set the alarm for one and will set it again for three,” whispered Andy in my ear, bringing me to another full and complete erection. “I want to check on Janet. She was resting comfortably after the boys went to bed, but she may need more meds.”
“Maybe we need the hospice nurses before next week?” I asked, swallowing hard.
“Maybe, let’s see how the next couple of days and nights go.”
Andy needn’t have bothered setting the alarm had we paid closer attention to the weather report, showers sure, but the sharp flash of lightning, lighting up our bedroom via the windows and the loud, thundering, clap of thunder was only the precursor of the storm to roll through our area in the night, beginning around twelve-thirty.
The second, thunderous “BANG” and piercing brilliance of lightning, was followed by the slapping of bare feet on the floor as Jamie and Eddie suddenly appeared at our bedside. Before I could ask what seemed to be their problem, both boys were under the covers with us. Jamie, evidently wanting to appraise me of the situation and the seriousness of it, clasp my head between his hands, steered my face so I could clearly see his, and announced in stern voice, “We don’t like storms!” snuggling closer, satisfied I understood their presence.
Andy merely shrugged, stepping from our bed, “I’m going to check on Janet,” and slipped on some boxers and a robe.
“Coward!” I muttered to his exiting the door.
The third deep, long rumbling of the conflict in the sky brought Mattie securing into my bed as well. Nudging his way in between his brothers, spreading my legs so he could rest between, his head up under my chin, and his pecker on my lower abdomen. When I asked if liked storms, he raised his head up, eyes wide, clearly disturbed by nature’s antics, and replied, “N-N-N-N-No!” and plopped his head back down on my chest.
I sighed in resignation and understanding. I was his safe place where the warmth of my flesh up against his reassured him, gave him comfort, and protection from not only nature’s wrath, but life’s storms as well. I knew I’d always be Mattie’s “safe harbor,” his confidant, and champion, always ready to praise, protect, support, encourage, and love him. I’d be the one who’d hug him when he needed it, absorb his tears, share his laughter, suffer with him in defeat as well as celebrate his victories, listen to his most private thoughts, and guide him through life’s perils. He’d always love me and I’d always love him.
Mattie was special to me, not because he was my namesake or his uncle, but because he was Mattie, a compassionate, extremely intelligent, talented, and one hell of a nice guy! Tender hearted but resolute in spirit; loyal to those who loved him, and always there when you needed him. Whoever was fortunate to win his heart would be most blessed the rest of his or her life. Although, at this stage of his life, I would almost bet it would be a “he.”
Andy entered Janet’s room to find her relatively awake and in the company of her three oldest sons. Robbie was on one side of the bed, holding her hand, David on the other, and Scottie holding a glass of water with a straw in it, evidently just finishing offering her a sip of water.
“Hi, Janet,” Andy said in greeting, “need some meds?”
She nodded, smiled, looking at her sons, commenting lovingly, “Could a mother ask for anything more? The protection and love of her children?”
“No, not really,” Andy responded before administering some pain meds, assuring the boys, in the process, he’d be sticking around if they wanted to go back to bed. They decided not! All three had light blankets to toss around their shoulders and wore boxers. Robbie pulled up another chair and settled himself in it next to his mother’s be. David followed suit and situated himself nearby on the other side while Scottie decided to snuggle up on Andy’s lap in the easy chair.
It was still raining when I awakened about four-thirty in the morning. I crept carefully and silently from the bed, leaving my three nephews sound asleep. Andy had to be to work by seven and with it still raining, the berry patch would be closed. I could count on Ted and Lee to have the sign out announcing the closure, but I did need to make a couple of calls to radio stations so they could announce the “U-Pick” berry season was over at Wescott Family Farm.
I went into Janet’s room to wake Andy so he could go to work. Scott was sound asleep on his lap and as much as I hated to wake him, it just had to be. Andy sort of moved the half-awake Scott to the side, slipped out from under him, recovered the lad, and made his way to the kitchen where I had coffee ready.
“I think I’ll have hospice start tomorrow, Jake,” he announced softly. “Janet is starting to slip faster than I expected. Once she goes into a coma, the end could come fast.”
I nodded my head. “So, the boys better speak to her while they can, right?”
“I think they know that, if the three older ones are any indication. After last night,” he said sadly, “I’m going to apply for family leave and use my PTO (paid time off) to help care for her in her final days. I have over seven hundred hours accrued so there is no better reason, I think. The hospice nurse can relieve me with an eight-hour shift. We can work that out. Jake, I don’t think Janet will make it much beyond the weekend!”
Andy’s pronouncement of the near, impending death of my twin, unnerved me, bringing a restriction in my chest, and was more than just a little difficult for me to hear. Not in terms of the volume of his voice, but that deeper soul-wrenching, wail of despair one sometimes feel rising up from within, seeking release from confinement, but contained by the tenaciousness of your emotional strength, knowing beyond normal grief. Should you display hysterics, it’d only create more havoc and sadness in six young boys’ lives. They were to lose their mother, one who bore them forth from her womb and I, a twin, one who shared the womb with me.
Losing her after such a long absence from each other and so little time in reunion felt like some sort of life’s betrayal, more like the Ying and Yang of life. The rainstorms of life can be followed by the sunshine of hope! The sunshine, for me, had to be the knowing the brief time we had together, will leave me with a legacy of memories and the delight in six distinct rainbows, each brilliant in colors, each different unto themselves, carrying the mix of hues peculiar to different fathers, the sparkling brightness of their mother, and anchored in life as Westcott’s hopefully finding the pot of gold while at Wescott Family Farm.
Rainy days are busy days, contrary to some opinions, on a farm. Paul and Robbie were off to work shortly after Mrs. Boyer arrived. Andy was long gone to the hospital, the rest of the boys were awake, dressed, and heading either for the bathroom or their mother’s beside to greet her. She was pretty drowsy, but each boy gave her a kiss and she smiled in return.
Counting heads at the breakfast table, I came up one short, four instead of five. Mattie wasn’t there yet. Wondering what might have delayed him, since I knew he generally spent some time brushing his mother’s hair once he came to her room in the morning. He always hummed some tune to her he’d heard and memorized as he brushed. I think his voice was comfort to her and to him as well.
I stopped outside the bedroom door and heard a relatively unfamiliar, but becoming familiar voice.
“I-I-I-I L-L-Love Y-Y-Y-You M-M-M-M-Momma!”
“I know you do, Mattie, and I love you,” Janet responded softly.
“I d-d-d-don’t w-w-want y-y-y-you to l-l-l-leave!”
His voice was laced with sadness, his seldom used voice catching in soft hiccoughing sobs.
“I know you don’t but I have no choice, do I? Besides, Honey, you and your brothers have Uncle Jake and Uncle Andy. They love you so much!”
“B-b-b-but it w-w-won’t be the s-s-s-same!”
“No, it won’t be, but it’ll be close, if you let it happen. Now, go eat your breakfast. I’ll be fine for now. But remember, you can do great things, play great songs someday, and find the boy you’ll fall in love with as well.”
I heard a soft sob. “Okay!”
I scooted back to the kitchen before Mattie left the bedroom, somewhat ashamed I’d eavesdropped on his very personal and heartfelt conversation and goodbye to his mother. I now knew, he and his brothers were well aware of what was happening. Once he came to breakfast, I went to Janet’s room to check on her. She was resting comfortably, sound asleep!
I needed to get to the office as soon after breakfast as I could. Since I’d closed down the berry patch a day earlier than I expected because of the rain, there was all kinds of paper work, including a final payroll for the temporary workers. Their bonus would come once we calculated the gross and net profit from the U-pick part of the farm business. I was always generous, but not to a fault, if you know what I mean! I didn’t share all of the profits. After my salary, thirty percent of the gross profits were reserved for the company and I paid bonuses based on the net profit, making journal entries to readjust for end of year and taxes.
I was confident Ted and Lee already had the signs out indicating the berry patch was closed and I knew Mrs. Jenkins already called the radio stations from home before leaving for work. She was so dependable! I don’t know what we’d do without her, although, at her age, I expected a retirement notice from her at any time.
Mrs. Boyer would help keep an eye on Janet and Scottie would be a great help in that. David wanted to go to the office with me, leaving Mattie, Eddie, and Jamie to help around the house and in the kitchen. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Williams, who now came twice a week due to the increased work load and summer laundry, would receive help from the boys in cleaning and doing laundry. In the Fall, I’d have to rethink her hours since the work load would change to include school clothes for the laundry and winter garb as well.
David was a big help to Mrs. Jenkins just in answering the phone for her. He was pleasant, efficient, and spot-on what calls should come through and which ones could be delayed with messages or funneled to Mrs. Jenkins. It relieved her so we could work on the books and payroll for the berry season. Ted and Lee already had our regular summer crew cleaning up and putting things in storage for the next season. The two of them would also being making the wholesale run on Thursday to pick up the various fruits and veggies I’d order from the on-line display Wednesday evening.
When the soil dried, there’d be pumpkins to weed and sweet corn, field corn, and potatoes to cultivate. Usually, after a hard rain, it’d take a couple of days to do this type of field work even with the sandy composition of our soil.
Mattie wandered down to the office around eleven, gave me a big hug, and settled down alongside of me by pulling up a chair, and busied himself sorting invoices by date received with those needing immediate payment on a separate stack for me to peruse. He hummed pleasantly to himself as he worked. Again, it was a big help to Mrs. Jenkins, the sorting- I doubted she could hear the humming since she was in the outer office by the time he arrived.
Andy called just as we finished lunch. He was on his way home. He’d talked to HR (Human Resources) and was granted immediate family leave, insisting he leave before his shift ended. I was relieved to hear he’d be home now for the duration of her illness. Andy was such a compassionate and highly skilled practioner and caregiver. I wouldn’t have to be alone when the end for my sister drew upon us. Granted, I had the boys, but they weren’t my Andy!
Andy was just coming to bed Thursday morning from tending Janet through the night. I roused the boys early so they could be fed and out to the berry patch to help glean the field. The church groups and the Salvation Army crew would be here at seven-thirty to pick and I wanted the boys to not only help them but to pick berries for us. We still had one field bearing, but those would go to our farm markets and the one in town. Once that field was done, probably two weeks at the most, the berry season would truly be over.
The three groups began arriving at the appointed hour. If I hadn’t seen Pastor Rodriquez and his group arrive, there’d been no doubt the way Mattie reacted. He sort of jumped up and down with a laugh and a wave of his hand, he bolted from my side and headed toward an older mini-van unloading passengers in the parking lot. Mattie and another boy, Luis I discovered, embraced each other with giggles and laughter, so pleased to see each other again.
Ted and Lee began organizing the pickers, while I walked to the van where Mattie and Luis stood. From what I could ascertain, the lovely young Latina lady and four other young people (three boys and one girl), was the mother of all five.
Introducing myself as Jacob Wescott, adding, “the uncle to Mattie, the exuberant young man who seems to have attached himself to one of your’s.”
“Ah, yes,” she responded with a pleasant smile, “Luis is my shy one. I’m surprised and happy he’s found a friend.”
I thought he’s no more shy than Mattie. Perhaps that is why they get along so well. Probably able to communicate by saying very little.
“I’m Belynda Alverez,” and pointing to her children, “Vincente, age fifteen, Carisa age thirteen, Luis, you know, Inocencia, age eight, and finally, my youngest, Pablo, age seven.”
“About the same age as my nephews,” I returned. I also happened to notice Carisa smile shyly, give a very slight wave of her hand, and look quickly down at her feet, evidently either embarrassed by something or becoming quite shy. I wondered why until I caught, from the corner of my eye, David standing all agog just to my right, holding a berry flat. Carisa was petite, slim, small-waisted, lightly brown, with a finely featured face, beauty with dark eyes, which, at the moment, seemed to sparkle like diamonds as she looked up again and saw David staring at her. She definitely was a stunner!
She wasn’t the only one of the Alverez family. Each of the boys carried the slim build, light-colored brown skin, dark hair and eyes, small, narrow hips and slim waists. Since I could compare with my boys, I ventured to say they were about the same size and build. Vincente was a real looker; again, slim waist, lithe frame, light-colored skin, built like a distance runner, with almost coltish legs. He carried himself with confidence, unconcerned about his exceedingly good looks. If I was in high school, I’d be buried balls deep in him breeding him every chance I got, or, vice-versa. I was certain each of the boys would grow into handsome teens and men as well. Some families are just blest, I guess.
Mattie and Luis were already heading toward Ted and Lee where Scottie, Eddie, and Jamie were waiting for them.
“Better get busy,” I announced and before I could explain what the procedure would be, David quickly asked Carisa, “Want to pick berries with me?”
A nod of approval from her mother was all it took and the two of them left us, not without a scowl from Vincente who decided he was the protector of his sister’s virginity and trotted off right behind them. There was no doubt he saw David as the interloper and I thought he might be right in being concerned. David was a Westcott and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was definitely smitten with the sweet young thing and probably had a bone in his pants that’d split timbers. He discreetly kept the berry flat in front of his crotch to conceal his fat, long tumescence.
“You certainly have some handsome young nephews,” Belle mentioned. “They seem to get their looks from their uncle.”
“Mostly from their mother,” I commented, hoping to set the stage to dash any hopes she might have toward me. What they got from me was the size of their cocks, the exception being Mattie who seemed to inherit genes from both sides of his family considering his cock was almost pony-sized already. The attention he was paying to Luis, I fear at some point, if he skewered the young man, there might be a “splitting of the buns” so to speak. “My husband, Andy, is at the house, hopefully catching some sleep. He spent most of the night at my sister’s bedside. These are her sons, minus the oldest, Robbie, who is at work somewhere on the farm.”
Belle noted she’d heard my sister was ill and offered her sympathy, adding, “Well, I better get busy if I’m going to be any help picking.”
“Let the young ones do it. They’ll pick more and faster. Besides, it’ll give us a chance to visit.” Nodding toward Mattie and Luis, now joined by Inocencia and Pablo, and now David and Carisa, with Vinnie just a row over carefully watching and chaperoning their activities. “I think my nephews are making new friends and it behooves me to become acquainted with the Alverez Family.”
As we visited, I discovered she was the daughter of migrant workers, now both deceased, was born in Wisconsin, worked the migrant crops with her parents, took advantage of the two-year college programs the state offered, picked up a two-year degree in accounting and bookkeeping, married an undocumented young man, had the five children, and lost her husband in the previous fall. ICE raided his place of employment, rounded up a number of undocumented, her husband included, sent him back across the southern border where he was murdered two weeks later.
“I had no place to go or immediate family to seek support or shelter from. The only family I had was Ernesto, Pastor Rodriquez, my second cousin on my father’s side. He welcomed us up here, helped us settle in, and found me a job. It’s working at a motel; not the highest pay, but it helps.”
So typical, I thought, of Pastor Rodriquez. He ran what he called a “faith mission.” Asking him one time what that was, he replied, “I wake up every morning having faith the Lord will provide and we will receive enough donations or gifts of some sort to keep us going longer.”
I know he struggled, without complaint, at times, so I’d help as best I could with vegetables and fruit, mostly outdated but good yet, some beef or pork when we butchered in the fall, and an occasional cash gift. Those contributions would help him keep his kitchen open to provide meals to those in need. I did much the same for the Salvation Army and one other community pantry and kitchen.
Scottie now had Inocencia, Pablo, and Eddie working with him. I scanned the patch and saw Jamie chatting with Vincente, picking in a row alongside of him. Rather clever, I thought at the time, for Jamie to distract Vincente while David pursued her, seeking private time with her in the midst of a crowd. Mattie and Luis were almost the end of their row, both berry flats full. Mattie was so happy I could hear him giggle even from where I stood. He found someone to have as a friend who accepted him as he was, no more no less, and apparently, from the way Luis looked at him, was loved as more than just as a friend. Either way, it was great for him and from listening to Belle, really wonderful for Luis.
We finished picking about eleven o’clock, helped our guests load their berries, and hauled ours to the house. Mrs. Boyer was thrilled with the amount of berries picked!
“After lunch,” she commented, “I could use some help cleaning and freezing these berries.”
The was no problem with that.
While the rest of the boys were busy helping Mrs. Boyer cleanup and preparing to freeze the strawberries, Paul and Robbie were having a late lunch, at least Robbie was!
His back up against a tree, legs splayed wide, Paul looked, in anticipation, down at his crotch where Robbie was unzipping his pants, and fishing around inside maneuvering Paul’s stiff throbbing cock to open air and accessibility. Robbie’s wiggling of his hand as he fished around until his hand gripped the smooth, hot, stiffness, almost brought Paul off. Once out in the open, Robbie leaned forward and with his tongue tickle-licked the weeping head, oozing clear pre-cum from the slit at the end.
“God, I love your cock!” he whispered to his lover. “It’s so smooth, just the right size, and I love the taste,” and slowly sucked the entire length into his oral cavity. He pulled back, smacked his lips and commented happily, “Just the way I like it. Could I ask for anything better?”
Robbie pulled back until just the swollen head of Paul’s penis was in his mouth, began lapping his tongue around the top of the surface, slipping his tongue under the spongy ridge, and tickling the valley between the split in the crown, before poking the tip of his tongue into the piss slit and probing lightly.
Paul eased out a satisfied sigh. “Won’t take much more!” encouraging Robbie to bob his head up and down the twitching cock, sucking, massaging with his tongue, until Paul groaned out, “Here it comes!” and fired several strong spurts of teen-boy-juice into Robbie’s mouth. Robbie sucked and swallowed, not wanting to waste a drop of Paul’s essence.
Paul shivered his final release, giggling, “You’re so good at this, Robbie.”
“Not all I’m good at!” Robbie laughed in return. “But, that’ll have to wait until shower time.”
Paul knew only too well what Robbie was good at, in fact, rather an expert at satisfying Paul in the process. Paul loved to have Robbie buried balls deep in his ass and then wiggle his hips to and froe, using Robbie’s embedded cock to tickle and massage his insides, forcing it deeper, while still stimulating his prostate with every wiggle. He loved it when Robbie’s cock began swelling and then pulsed out strong spurts of cum, deluging his lower bowels.
Oh, yeah, he knew only too well what Robbie could do and wanted it as often as possible.
Janet spent a restless night and Andy cautioned me to be prepared for the end, at any time! Evidently her sons sensed it as well. Robbie asked if he could stay home from work and I consented. The hospice nurse was hesitant about letting his brothers and him take up stations in the bedroom but a nod of my head sent her the message to allow it. The boys were going to stand vigil and make certain their mother spent her last hours and minutes in the presence and comfort of her sons.
Around six in the evening, Andy quietly asked me to make certain the boys were either in her bedroom or in close proximity for the next couple of hours.
“That close?” I asked, already certain of the answer.
He just nodded his head.
The boys sat near or stood at her bedside and around eight that gorgeous, early summer evening, my twin sister, their mother, softly sighed her last breath.
Robbie, bless his heart, announced sadly, “Momma just died!”
Soft sobs of anguish and loss invaded our silence as first, the hospice nurse and the Andy verified Janet’s demise
When the funeral home arrived to transport her body, the boys followed the gurney with her covered body on it to the hearse. They stood silent sentinels, tears flowing down their young faces, as the vehicle drove away.
Pastor Rodriquez conducted the services at his church. Employees, male and female of the Farm, were her pallbearers. The six were chosen from all of the volunteers consisting of summer part-time, fall and spring part-timers, and the small crew we had working all the seasons except the winter.
All dressed in new black suits, her sons followed the casket as it left the church and laid flowers on it at the gravesite at the cemetery next to the small church, not five miles from the farm, our family attended over the years. Our parents and grandparents were buried there and someday I would be as well as Andy. It’d be up to the boys to decide where they wished to rest in death, but I made it a point that day to purchase two more eight-site plots, just in case.
The Duluth television station which carried the story concerning Jamie’s encounter with the ladies at the berry patch and in their news piece concerning Janet’s death and funeral services, concluded it with the portion they’d left out, namely when Jamie addressed the television crew, blinked back tears, and asked, apologetically, “Can we end this, please? We’re all feeling kind of sad right now.”
To be continued: