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DISCLAIMER

The Long Hot Summer – The Awakening is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Also note that my works generally contain sexual themes, objectionable language and behavior that most people should avoid. If you are easily offended, unable to discern the difference between fiction and reality, dislike the use of profanity, are uptight, or afraid that reading this material may pose danger to your sanity, then you should immediately cease reading any further.

The author accepts no responsibility for any thoughts you may form after reading his works.

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THE LONG HOT SUMMER – The Awakening

Chapter 1

Well, as all things seem to go in life, new opportunities and experiences present themselves at unexpected times, and in unbelievable places.

My story begins when I was a few days away from my eighteenth birthday. I was a bit of a shy guy, a studious “straight A” student, a good athlete, lettering in a number of sports, and really naïve about sex. I had offers from a number of very good universities, so life was good. But, to be honest, I had my share of issues; my teenage hormones were running rampant, my body and mind was in a state of confusion, and I had a continuous “hard-on”. So much so, that I wore tight blue jeans just to contain a perpetual “boner”, which I was constantly self-conscious about whenever in the presence of my few friends and family.

The only experience I had with anything even close to sex was a girl allowing me to feel her breasts through her blouse, during hay ride one night. I really didn’t date so my opportunities to learn about sexual interaction were to say the least, very limited.

In June of that year, I had graduated, and was looking forward to working for that summer on my uncle’s ranch. My family decided to go to my Aunt’s house in the country and spend a couple of weeks on vacation since they had to take me anyway. My aunt, uncle, and cousin lived on a large ranch and raised quarter horses, and specialized in training cutting horses for the rodeo circuit. My aunt had asked Mom if I'd like to spend my summer vacation with them, since I had been going to my other uncle’s ranch for the past couple of summers. When asked, I jumped at the opportunity since I like being around horses and had become a good hand with them.

Their property was quite extensive and it could take you the good part of two days to ride across most of the pasture land and alfalfa fields. The main house was also extremely large, consisting of three stories plus an attic that had been converted into a bedroom. There were eight bedrooms, and five baths, and it had that feel of an old, well built, turn of the century farm house. It was an older wooden structure that you commonly saw throughout the Southeastern United States in rural areas. There was no such thing as central air conditioning though. In fact, most of the rooms had window fans that you rarely see today.

If you know anything about the summers in the south, it is hot and very humid. Most of the time, on farms and ranches, the builders would leave a number of very large old Oak or Pecan trees standing around the foundation so they could provide shade during the summer months; it tended to help keep the houses cooler. As you drove down the long dirt road leading to my aunt and uncle’s house, there were vast gently rolling pastures and fields as far as you could see. Off in the distance, capturing the eye like an oasis in the desert, you could see a small patch of green jutting skyward, clashing with the symmetry of the peacefully rolling hills. As you drew closer you could make out the small group of enormous ancient Oaks that encircled the ranch house, and towered over the surrounding terrain. To this day, I still marvel at the stark contrast of that small group of Oaks defying the endless fields of grass and alfalfa.

The day we arrived at my aunt and uncle’s the weather did not disappoint; it was a scorcher. The temperature was around 98 degrees with 98 percent humidity. While the fans were very nice at night, during the day, even with the fans running, you didn’t want to be in the upper floors of the house, unless absolutely necessary. This meant that the center of activity during the day was the kitchen, where we ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

When we arrived, my aunt was in the kitchen and came out the back door to greet us, with the obligatory family hugs and kisses. We were promptly assigned our rooms, and I was quite surprised when my aunt said I would be bunking with my cousin Ronnie in his room, the attic. Frankly, the prospect didn’t really thrill me since I hardly knew my cousin at the time; and two, I was really shy about sleeping in a room with someone else. I politely asked my aunt if I could have my own room; she just said that she thought the “guys” would like to room together. Ronnie didn’t have much in the way of friends at home, going to college full time and working on ranch during the summer, so she thought it would be fun for the both of us.

Her logic was somewhat flawed, by my assessment, and I felt it put me in a awkward position. As I was about to suggest another alternative, my mother gave me one of her patented “Don’t!” looks, which put an end to that! So, I was stuck for the time being, and that was that. I couldn’t really see my older cousin relishing the idea of me being in his personal space the entire summer. "Great, this is starting off with a bang!" I grumbled to myself.

To give you a little background; my cousin Ronnie was 6 years older than me at 24, and considerably bigger, or so it seemed to me at the time. He stood 6 feet tall, 175 lbs, lean and muscular, with medium length sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Ronnie has the musculature you develop from working on a ranch, lean build, very strong, and well toned. His upper body had very dark tan from working outside without a shirt. He had just graduated from Georgia Tech with a civil engineering degree and was working his last summer on the ranch, before taking a job in Atlanta the coming fall. The first time I saw him that evening, he had definitely changed a lot from the guy I’d met four years earlier. I was certain the girls were falling all over him now. Of course I was the quintessential awkward "bookworm" teen, still developing, physically and mentally; however, unlike most male teens at that age, I was lagging behind in the physical development department. I was hoping to turn out to be bigger and bulkier as I matured, and I definitely wasn’t happy with the way I looked at the time. I was all of 130 lbs dripping wet, stood 5’4”, athletic build, lean, with brown hair and emerald green eyes. The one attribute I was proud of at the time was my manhood, which was all of 6”- 7”, approximately. I wasn’t into measuring things of that nature. Some the guys unofficially compared cocks in the locker room showers and I was told I had the biggest one by far, among my teammates. Thinking back, it’s funny what teenagers will choose to be unabashed about and what they decide is too embarrassing to discuss openly.

Anyway, in a further effort to extricate myself from the current rooming arrangements, that had been pressed upon me; after dinner I told Ronnie that I was sorry my aunt had just stuck me in his room and I knew he didn’t want me in there cramping his style, so to speak. So, I would be happy to take a room to myself and leave him his personal space. To my dismay, and surprise, he was quite fine with the arrangement and said he would enjoy me being around. He said it would be great to have another guy to talk to, we could play music, stay up late if we wanted, and it wouldn’t bother the others since their rooms were all on the second floor. Plus, the third floor killed all the sound from the loft room, so we could make all the noise we wanted. Actually, it sounded like a pretty good setup after I thought about it a bit, so I reluctantly said, “okay!”

On a ranch everyone tends to go to bed relatively early in the evening since you had to rise very early, so the rest of the family started to retire about nine o’clock. Ronnie asked me if I wanted to go with him to the barn to get the feed bins filled for the morning. I said, sure!

We went out to the main barn and started filling the bins and putting away the tack that was used that day. It was about an hour before we were done and when we came in the back door it was obvious that everyone had gone to bed, as the only noise in the house was the window fans, loudly moving air throughout the house. "Another reason you couldn’t hear anything," I thought to myself. As we made the long climb up the three flights of stairs to the loft, I was thinking that I might really enjoyed being around Ronnie this summer. We had talked about everything and nothing while doing the chores and he was genuinely friendly toward me, and it was immediately apparent he didn’t treat me like some kid, which I hated. We talked a lot, mostly small talk, as we worked, and he was interested in what I had to say, and what I wanted to do, commenting on my intelligence at one point.

“Mom said that you were very smart, and I tend to agree with her.” He said flatly. That was it, and I knew we were going to get along really well this summer.

Chapter 2

When we got back to the loft we decided to take a shower, so Ronnie got his in first and I went after him. The little fiberglass shower we used was located on the third floor, so you had to walk down a flight of stairs to the next floor and then go right down a dark hallway. They didn’t keep the lights on in the hallway so you used a flashlight to get to the bathroom. After Ronnie got back I went down with my bath stuff, undressed, and got in the shower. Back then I loved a cold shower because it was so damned hot and humid, it just refreshed you. Once you were out though, you began to immediately sweat again. So, I turned on the cold water and, as was my custom then, after I soaped up, I would immediately start stoking my best friend until he was nice and hard. I could stand for hours with my back to the water, with a bar of soap in one hand, and my other hand stroking slowly up and down the length of my penis. I would ofte fantasize about a particular girl at school that I had the “hots” for, while I vigorously worked my hard friend with my head back and eyes tightly shut. I’d alternate running the soap over my dick to make it really slick and then begin slowly stroking again, until I needed more soap. When I really got into it, and I was feeling really turned-on, I would rinse the soap off my body, and use my hair conditioner to lube my dick and balls and the crack or my ass. At the time I had a round hair brush with a large round handle on it; I would squat down and position the handle of the brush so I could work it in and out of my ass while I stoked my cock. I got on my knees, just out of the water’s reach, and work the brush in and out of my ass, working my throbbing dick with long hard strokes, until I came.

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