The following story is fiction and does not necessarily represent the sexualities of Scott Bairstow, Devon Sawa, or Jonathan Taylor Thomas. The story is derived from the copyrighted movie Wild America, copyrighted by Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement is intended by the following tale, and NO MONEY is being made from this story. It is just a product of a highly creative imagination.
In April 2002, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that texts (including fiction) portraying minors in sexual situations are LEGAL, as long as no actual minors are used in the production of the material. Therefore, this court ruling overturned earlier legislation as unconstitutional.
I
"Did you tell her to meet us here?" 17-year-old Marty said, storming into the sun-streaked barn.
Marshall drew a whiff of air, but the words froze in his mouth.
"Well?"
"Where's Mark?" the 13-year-old said.
"How the fuck would I know?"
"I . . . I thought he had agreed to meet us," Marshall said, his voice quivering.
"Well, it's not my dick that will shrivel and shrink."
Marshall inhaled slow and deep. "Aubrey can't come."
"Tell me you're joking," Marty said, standing tall in his black cowboy boots.
"Mom insisted on taking her to town. Said she had to buy Aubrey a dress and do grocery shopping."
Marty began stepping further inside. "You better not be shitting me," he said, his dark, granite eyes darting raging petulance.
"I swear! Ask mom when she returns!" Marshall said, inching back. A tall haystack slammed his back to a stop.
"Last night, it was dad paying us an unexpected visit. You know how long Mark and I had been waiting to fuck sis in the bed of my pickup?"
"I was disappointed, too!" the pint-sized lad said, sashaying away from his brother.
"You really thought you were gonna fuck me," Marty said, grinning wickedly.
"That was the deal," Marshall said, feeling the haystacks behind as he continued to move sideways. "You and Mark were to let me, you know, in the back of your pickup, and in exchange, Aubrey would allow you and him to unleash yourselves in her."
"But the deal backfired," Marty said.
"Only `til we get another chance to be alone with her."
"And when will that be?" He kept nearing him. "Another week? Another month!"
Even as Marshall dared not glance at his brother's groin area, he could feel the pent-up pressure emanating from down there.
"Answer me!" Marty barked.
"I . . . I don't know," the lad said, almost stumbling backward onto a lower-level haystack.
Seldom had he seen Marty so mad; and with nobody around for miles, fright descended on the boy. This didn't surprise him, as Marshall had always felt a certain amount of fear in the presence of his brothers. But sexual and romantic hunger always overrode all other emotions. Now, by contrast, fright was all that he felt.
"You little fairy," Marty said, the gruffness of his stubble clearly visible three feet from Marshall--in conjunction with the hunk's white, tusk-strong top incisors. "The fruit who thought he would get to fuck me." Smiling malevolently, he stopped pacing. "Think again."
Suddenly, Marty unzipped his tight blue jeans; and snatching Marshall's khaki shirt, he jolted the urchin down, landing him on his knees.
"Mark isn't here!" Marshall protested, trying to pull away from his brother's grip.
But the white briefs were already on Marshall's face, Marty shucking them off along the waistband. "Suck it, bitch."
Marshall barely having caught his breath, Marty rammed the dripping, 7-inch monster into his mouth.
At first, the lad sucked tepidly. But the cock's scallop taste, combined with the scallion smell coming from Marty's pubic hairs, forced Marshall to suck hard, fast, and deep and to hungrily knead the warm adductors and quadriceps over the crunched jeans--all in a matter of seconds.
"That's it," Marty said, pulling the rug rat's straight, light-brown hair back and forth.
The 13-year-old pulled back, then flicked his tongue under the slimy foreskin and over the pre-cum-coated head.
"Woof!" Marty said, throwing his head back.
Taking the entire dick in his mouth, Marshall unzipped below and began to caress over his smaller white briefs.
"Like your big brother's cock in your mouth?" Marty said.
Marshall bobbed his round head, his green eyes blazing at him.
"You sure you don't like Mark's better than mine?"
Marshall shook his head, although secretly, he enjoyed Mark's sausage as much. Licking his way down, he moved his hands toward Marty's rumps, which were still under the briefs.
"Hey!" Marty said, jigging Marshall's hair. "That territory is off limits."
His liquid eyes exuding hurt, Marshall took one, then both testicles in his mouth, sucking and then licking the warm delicacy.
"Oh, man!" Marty said, pulling Marshall's hair. "Fucking A!"
Suddenly, Marty pushed him away, landing the urchin on his butt.
"Bastard!" Marshall wailed.
Marty skipping as he pulled each boot off, Marshall glowered at him, wondering how his brother could be so selfish. Reluctantly, he crawled toward the secret hole beneath the hay bestrewn on the floor. The tube of KY jelly in his hand, he untied his sneakers, kicked them off, and pulled off his blue jeans.
Marty almost fell as he rushed toward him, and Marshall snickering, the 17-year-old ripped the boy's satin shirt as he tried to regain his balance.
"Asshole!" Marshall yawped. "That was a $20 shirt!"
"I'll get you another one. Now, give me some of that cream."
Marty's cock pointing at him like a cannon, Marshall felt like rubbing his own against it--if only, for revenge. He swiftly weighed the consequences in his head, then pulled off his tattered shirt and lunged at his brother.
"What the hell?" Marty said, falling on his bare back.
Slapping Marty's flesh, Marshall fell on those Oscar pecs and began to thrust his 4-inch cock against his brother's 7-inch behemoth.
"Fucking foul!" Marty yelled, pushing Marshall away.
The boy kept humping in a struggle.
"Horny pig!" Marty brayed, elbowing his brother to the ground.
Panting on the hay, Marshall glared at him with blood-thirsty eyes.
"Now, you're getting no shirt," Marty said, brushing hay strands off him as he sat up.
"You better replace it, or I'm telling mother."
"You think being a blabber mouth is real cool, don't you?" Marty said.
Suddenly, he grabbed Marshall's thin, tawny legs, spun the kid, and pushed him toward the three-foot-tall haystack.
Cowered over the hay as Marty climbed behind him, Marshall froze in terror, as he couldn't even turn to search for the tube of jelly. He held his breath, helpless under his towering, steel-bodied brother.
Luckily, Marty sloshed the stuff noisily on his hot dog.
So horny was Marty that upon his first entry, he drove his ramrod to the hilt. "Uuurgh!"
Marshall grimacing between pain and ecstasy, his brother squeezed his smooth, wheat-colored back.
"Mmmm!" Marty continued, pumping long and slow. "Such a soft body." He kept feeling his brother's warm, moist skin. "Almost like our sister's."
Landing his pecs on the boy's back, he nestled his nose against Marshall's nape, then sniffed the edges of the strawberry-smelling hair. Something about the scent caused him to suddenly piston forcefully.
"Oh, man!" he grunted, grabbing the boy's legs.
"Sorry I'm late, but--"
Marty turned like a startled tiger!
II
"Where's Aubrey?" Mark said, scowling in confusion.
"She can't make it," Marty gruffed, then resumed his humping.
"Why?" the blond said disappointedly.
But Marty's ears had shut.
Marshall eyeing through the corner of his eye, he saw Mark shrug, then unzip his light-blue jeans. Still by the huge, swing-out door, the blond peeled off his yellow tank top.
"Don't bend!" Marty bawled, shoving Marshall's head.
"Asshole!" Marshall spat, but Marty kept pistoning like a wild boar.
"Get off me!" he brayed to a kneeling Mark, but the blond kept touching Marty's left butt muscle. "I said get off!"
"Make me," Mark said freshly.
"Just wait till I'm done with Marshall."
"Ooooh! I'm shaking."
"Crap! I'm cumming! Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Marty's cock flooded Marshall's guts like the Atlantic the insides of the Titanic, and still the gushing continued.
"Uurrrgghhhh!" Marty growled, almost crushing Marshall's legs with his grip. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkkkkkkk!"
He pulled out and collapsed on the hay floor.
"Looks like big brother doesn't need pussy anymore," Mark said, but Marty was too pooped to slug the blond.
His body quaking with lust and his jeans barely a third down, Mark knelt behind Marshall and pressed his aching, 6-inch cock past the scrumptious crack.
Marshall's knees hurting, he gently pushed the blond back, turned, and lay on the ground. His silky, hairless legs on Mark's square shoulders, he shook his dung along the base as the blond entered him.
"Man!" Mark said, turning to Marty. "You must have dumped three bottles of spunk in him."
"Aaah!" Marshall said breathlessly.
"You like that?" Mark said, his freckled face three inches away.
"Uh-huh!"
A tuft of hair cascaded toward Marshall's cheek.
"I can't believe this," Marty said, his brothers about to kiss. "He's really turning you into a fag, you know that?"
"Shut up, scumbag!"
Kneading the 13-year-old's luscious legs, he returned to the boy's transfixed face and, moving the last inch, kissed the lad. Marshall sucked back, and Marty made hawking sounds.
"Mummmm!" Marshall cried in high pitch, his balls' insides sizzling with bubbles.
Mark thrusted harder, deeper, and faster; Marshall slapped the blond's left butt cheek; and the two smooched again.
"I'm cumming," Mark said, and Marshall aggressively pulled the blond's butt toward him.
"Me, too!" Marshall whined, and the lads pressed their lips as tightly as they could.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!" Mark wailed under his breath.
The boy shaking his pecker at the base, his rectum started to gulp each spray of warm milk; and Marshall's arm still wrapped around his brother's waist, his schlong erupted one, two, four, eight, sixteen, eighteen times, just as Mark's cock slit continued to burst another four, eight, ten times!
Spent, Mark collapsed on Marshall.