[This is the third installment of a series and can be read alone but makes more sense if you read the first two in the archives.]
Just a few weeks after Jim, David, and I had explored our peculiar vice behind the woodshed at my Cousin Jims farm he invited me out to celebrate the Fourth of July. Nothing unusual in that, really, since our families often got together on holidays along with other aunts, uncles, and cousins. But I knew this Fourth my parents already had planned a picnic in the town park and expected Jims parents along with other family. I debated whether to tell them the truth and then thought better of it. So, at the last minute, I begged off the picnic in the park claiming I did not feel all that good and wanted to go off for a walk in the woods alone.
I gave my parents a ten minute head start before I jumped on my bike and started off for my Cousin Jims farm just outside of town. This was a typical Fourth of July, hot and hotter so by the time I got to the farm I was beat and ready for the big clay mug of lemonade Jim handed me.
"Thanks," I said. And then I saw one of Jims best buddies from high school squatting over by the corner of the barn.
"Thats Paul," Jim said. "That threesome we did with David got me to thinkin and Paul and I are pretty tight. He, ah, enjoys the same kinds of games we do, Tom."
"You mean a real old fashioned Fourth of July with Stars and Stripes Forever?"
"Geez, only you would come up with that one, Tom," Jim groaned.
Together we watched as Paul struck a match, stood back, reached out and lit a bottle rocket sitting in a Coke bottle. It hissed, and then screamed as it lifted rapidly into the air, reached its apogee, popped, and fell harmlessly to the ground.
"Good shot Paul!" Jim shouted across the yard.
"Whats in this lemonade?" I asked, the taste not familiar. "You spike this stuff? Am I gonna get sick from it?"
"No, idiot. Paul just dropped a little vodka into the mix is all," Jim answered. "He had a pint with him and we put about half into the jug. You wont even know the difference."
"So you say," I replied as I took a deep drink from the cold clay mug. "Actually this stuff is pretty good! So Paul is going in on the circle jerk with us?" I asked.
"Well, sort of," Jim said, a sly smile sliding across his face. "Lets just say he was more than a little interested in that razor strop hanging on the back of the bathroom door."
"Yeah? In what way?" I asked. "Another jack off contest for the three of us?"
"Maybe, maybe," Jim said. Again we watched as Paul lit another bottle rocket and sent it as high as the barn roof. "Hey, watch it, Paul! You set the barn roof on fire and well be spending our senior year in jail!"
"So what do you have in mind, Jim?" I pressed.
"Well, I was telling Paul about our little get together with David a couple weeks back and before I even finished hes got a wet spot on his pants! Must be an epidemic around here, now with four of us." Jim laughed. "Says hes had wet dreams about both getting and giving a good hard licking for years but it will never happen for him. His father left the family and his mother is never going to give it to him. So. . . . I thought . . . . Well, maybe we just ought to give him what he thinks he wants. You know?"
"Yeah, I know. And how about you do the taking from him and I do the giving to him?" I was not about to strip down for a lickin from someone I hardly knew.
"Smart ass! Shoot, I dont care. Just want get my rocks off one way or another. Had a hard on now for a week and I need some serious hot action. Paul has a nice thick rod and I think youll have the best Fourth you ever had."
"So we gonna do the woodshed and jack off all three of us?"
"Yep. Paul says he wants to have the full experience and we are going to give it to him."
By now Paul had switched to M-80s and after lighting one he ran across the yard toward us as the fuse burned down. The percussion, even outside, was powerful as it exploded.
"How do you like the lemonade?" Paul asked. "Time for me to have another mug, I think. Youre Tom, right?"
"Right. And the lemonade is fine. Is it gonna knock me on my ass if I have another?" I thought I could already feel a little buzz from draining the first pint mug.
"No, probably not. Just lower your inhibitions a little," he answered with a laugh.
"Well, Paul, I put your Woodshed Fourth of July proposition to Tom here and he agreed on the condition he is the one who gives it to you and I am the one who takes its from you."
"Im in," Paul said. "Lets get down and dirty, boys!" He poured himself another mug of the spiked lemonade, then poured a second for me. "In the barn?"
"Yeah, in the barn would be fine," Jim said.
Jim and Paul started slowly across the yard and I trailed along checking Paul out from behind. He looked like a pretty good stud to me and I knew he was a starter on the football team. With nothing on except a tee and shorts it was easy to see the hardness of his muscles, the slim waist, and the well defined buttocks under his shorts. We entered the barn through a side door and it was a little darker and somewhat cooler inside. Dead center in the middle of the main open floor I saw the bales stacked two high and two wide with a saddle blanket over the top. The three of us stood there, silent and anticipating, until Paul started whistling the opening bars of the "Stars and Stripes Forever." Jim laughed and then walked over to a large timber where the thick leather strap hung waiting. He took it from the peg and walked over to the bales.
"You first or me?" he asked Paul.
"I think you first," Paul said.
All three of us had tented our shorts by this time. Jim stripped his shirt off, then his shorts, then peeled his briefs down so his hard rod jutted out proudly. He handed the strap to Paul and bent across the bales, his backside high. Paul took the strap and slowly pulled it through his hand, seeming to savor the moment. His own erection had pushed his shorts out a good four inches. Jim spread his feet shoulder width apart for good balance and his balls hung low like a bulls in the heat. I moved around to the other side of the bales at Jims head and faced Paul. Paul laid the strap down on the top of the bales and stripped his shirt off, then picked it up, and stepped back and to the side a bit.
Pauls tanned and well muscled torso gleamed with sweat, the wisps of curly hair on his chest matted and his darker nipples looked hardened to me. His biceps flexed as he took the strap back, measured the distance and then whacked it rather hesitantly across Jims bared ass. No one spoke. Paul laid on a second lick a bit harder and the crack reverberated through the empty barn. He waited, seeming to enjoy the tension, and then whipped the strap down a third time, still harder. A fourth. Paul hit a slow rhythm and each stroke licked in a little harder than the last. Jim, for his part, had not yet moved or even reacted. After a dozen Paul took a break and gently felt of Jims hot buttocks, then slipped his hand under and between Jims legs to stroked his hard on.
"Ooooooh, yeah," Jim responded. "Jack me, Paul. Jack me off. I am so HOT!"
Paul continued to stroke for a minute or two but then stopped and went back to strapping Jims backside. Paul slowly laid on two dozen more stripes and by now had gotten into it, cracking the strap down hard. Jim bucked with each lick but remained bent over without any help from me. After forty licks Paul again set the strap on the bales and reached in and under to jack Jim from behind. It did not take long before I heard the guttural release rumbling from Jims throat.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagghhhhhhhhhhhh!" Jim gurgled as his hips bucked up and Paul pumped Jims nuts dry. Then Jim sagged back down with a groan and Paul stood up, looked at me with a grin, and just shook his head.
"Waited all my life for that!" he said. "Never, never thought it would happen. And it was as hot as I thought it would be. Almost shot my own load into my shorts!"
"But not as hot as it is going to be," I replied with my own grin. "I believe its your turn to go over the bales next, Paul? And before you do, I think you ought to give Jim a little kindness for all he had to take for your pleasure. You can clean him up a bit before I take the strap to you, boy," I said, getting into my role.
Jim straightened up and turned back toward Paul, his spent _c_o_c_k_ still at half staff. Paul dropped to his knees on the barn floor, took Jims balls and _c_o_c_k_ in hand, and licked the tip clean. Still standing on the far side of the bales the wide dark stripes Paul had painted across my cousins butt were impressive, to say the least. I dont think he saw stars and the stripes would not last forever but this had been a whipping with the strap I would not have wanted to experience.
"We should have plenty of time since the whole gang is staying on in town until after the fireworks," Jim said. "So lets take a break and have another one of those special lemonades! Give you a little time to think about your own trip out to the barn for your first lesson with the strap, Paul."