Boccaccio's Decameron, a story of renewal and recreation in defiance of a decimating pandemic, relates how ten self-isolated Italians pass the time regaling each other with tall tales during the Black Plague. While Covid19 wasn't nearly as decimating, the opportunity for such entertainment did exist. As a takeoff on that idea, this short story might well be a modern version of one of the tales, recounting events of earlier, less stressful times.
Please keep in mind that Decameron was long banned in several countries due to its erotic content. In keeping with the tradition of eroticism, oral and anal sex occur within this tale. Incest is also briefly present. If those things bother you, it would be best to skip this, and also to avoid checking Decameron out of your local library - where it may no longer be banned.
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"Did you know that guys have sex with each other?"
Lying in his lower bunk, fourteen-year-old Derrick was educating his brother, Jeffrey, two years younger.
"How do they do that?"
The blond boy turned a page of the book he was reading.
"I haven't gotten to that yet."
His dark-haired brother looked over the edge. As usual, Derrick lay on his bed naked, slowly stroking the four-inches of which he was quite proud - and of which Jeffrey was quite envious. Derrick had shown Jeffrey how to jack off, but the younger boy wasn't quite old enough yet to shoot.
"Where'd you get the book?"
"From the library. It's called Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, by some dude named Kinsey. It was in the reference section, so I swiped it for a couple of days."
"Are there any pictures?"
"No."
The twelve-year-old rolled back onto his bunk. If there weren't any pictures, he wouldn't be interested. Reading was something Jeffrey only did at school and as little of as possible. The whole idea was too weird, anyway.
************************
Jeffrey, now fourteen, switched off the bedroom lights and climbed into the upper bunk, careful not to disturb his older brother's slumber. Peeling the tape back from the knothole next to his pillow, he looked through into the other room and smiled. His timing was perfect.
Ryder, the ranch-hand hunk, lay on his bed pleasuring himself. Jeffrey spit on his hand and grasped his own rigid member, matching Ryder's slow, sensual strokes. Based on experience, it should take Ryder about five minutes, and Jeffrey optimistically hoped for simultaneous emissions this time.
Ryder was getting close now, and so was Jeffrey. The pace of their wanking increased. Jizz exploded onto Ryder's chest. Ten seconds later, Jeffrey pasted his against the wall. Not perfect yet, but he was getting closer.
Jeffrey looked over the edge into the lower bunk, relieved to find his brother still asleep. The last thing he wanted was for Derrick to know what he was doing.
************
The brothers had shared the bunkhouse bedroom for six years, ever since they'd moved to their grandparents' ranch. Knotty-pine paneling separated their room from the one used by a succession of young, seasonal ranch hands. Most of the knots were sound, but a large one at the head of Jeffrey's top bunk, after shrinking for decades, had recently come out.
Looking through the knothole, Jeffrey discovered that it lined up with a round hole on the other side, cut for a wall light fixture which had never been installed. He covered the knothole with electrical tape, and became a Peeping Tom, or a Peeping Jeff if you prefer.
Most of the time there wasn't much to see. Watching seventeen-year-old Ryder eat, sleep, or watch TV wasn't horribly inspiring. True, his athletic torso, curly brown hair, and dark eyes held some fascination, but seeing a wet, naked Ryder after a shower - or watching him jack off - was far more interesting, and Jeffrey had quickly learned when the interesting things were likely to occur.
************
Jeffrey's best friend, Clayton, lived on the adjoining ranch. The same age as Jeffrey, they'd been friends since the brothers came to live with their grandparents. Over the years they'd regularly played games together, games which changed as they grew older. When they reached thirteen, the games began to include masturbating together, and by this time, each other.
It was during one of these wank-each-other sessions in the barn loft that Jeffrey raised the issue of gay sex, in the straightforward manner that best friends do.
"What do you know about guys having sex with other guys, I mean, more than what we do?"
Clayton ran his fingers through his pale blond hair as he considered the question.
"Not much. Only what the guys say in the locker room."
Like Clayton, Jeffrey had heard the vague, off-color, junior-high jokes about blowjobs and cornholing, which didn't contain any useful information.
"Anything else?"
Clayton poked his buddy and grinned slyly.
"Why do you wanna know?"
Jeffrey blushed. "Just curious."
"Maybe your brother knows more."
"He probably does, but if I asked him, he'd just give me shit about it. How about Michael?"
Clayton snorted. "No way my brother would tell me anything. What about Ryder?"
Jeffrey thought for a few seconds.
"I don't know him well enough yet to ask. I guess we gotta wait a while."
Clayton punched his buddy in the arm.
"What do you mean we, dude. It's you that wants to know."
Jeffrey grinned as he punched back.
"You wanna know too, asshole, and we both know it."
Down in the barn itself, Derrick smiled. The boys didn't know how well their voices carried.
************
Poker night had become a mid-week institution for Ryder and Derrick. These were friendly, low-stakes games, and rarely was either of them more than a couple of bucks richer or poorer at the end of the evening.
As a boy who'd always relished adequate room for playing pocket pool, Ryder had abandoned underwear sometime during the sixth grade. His normal indoor attire now consisted solely of a pair of loose-fitting Levi's, and he was amused when, after a couple of weeks, Derrick came over dressed the same way.
The next week, Ryder served Derrick a glass of beer instead of a soda, and the boy drank it without comment.
A couple of weeks later, Ryder left a magazine on his kitchen counter, and wasn't surprised when Derrick picked it up and checked it out.
"Wanna borrow it for a few days?"
"Yeah... Thanks."
************
Clayton lay on his bed looking at the ceiling. Earlier that day, in the barn where they messed around, he and Jeffrey had given each other a blowjob. Jeffrey's jizz tasted sort of sweet. He wondered if the other boys tasted different.
So they'd experienced that part now, thanks to a few hints provided by Michael after Clayton had built up enough courage to ask. But the cornhole stuff was still a mystery.
Unknown to the boys, Derrick had observed their activities. He'd keep it to himself - he'd once done the same thing with Michael - but it was knowledge which might come in handy.
************
"So, what do you think about the magazine?"
"It's pretty hot." Derrick laid down his hand. "Two pairs. Queens and sevens."
Ryder put down his three kings and took the pot.
"Your deal."
Derrick dealt the cards.
"Got any more like it?"
"Yeah, I got a new one yesterday."
Ryder took two cards and opened.
"Five cents."
"Raise you a quarter."
"Here's your quarter. Call."
"Four jacks."
"Beats my two pair."
Derrick raked in the pot.
"Can I borrow it?"
"Sure."
************
"If you keep jacking off, you'll go blind."
At the sound of his brother's voice, Jeffrey leaned over the edge of his upper bunk. As usual, Derrick lay on the lower bunk, stark naked, reading a book and stroking his pole. His fourteen-year-old habits were still in place two years later, though the object of his attention had grown a couple of inches.
"Look who's talking. How'd you know I was jacking off?"
"The bed always shakes."
Jeffrey blushed. "You shoulda said something."
Derrick laughed. "It's more fun lying here counting. If I jacked off as often as you do, I'd run out of jizz."
"If I jacked off as much as you do, my dick would fall off."
Jeffrey rolled back onto his bunk, embarrassed and angry. Derrick got off his bed and stood next to the upper bunk, grinning at his brother.
"It's okay, bro. I'm glad you're having fun. I just had to give you a little shit."
Jeffrey turned on his side and grinned back.
"Do you remember how much you jacked off when you were my age?"
"Uh-huh."
"What's that book you're reading?"
"It's a new one that just came out. It's called Human Sexual Response, by Masters and Johnson."
"Do you ever read about anything besides sex?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you have anything with pictures?"
"... No."
The brief hesitation had revealed more than the answer.
************
Jeffrey knew where to look. Derrick always hid things in his underwear drawer. Jeffrey rarely did more than look, although a few years back he'd taken the Super Duper Slingshot outside to test - and decided Derrick had wasted his money.
This time, he found a nine-by-twelve-inch brown envelope stamped Educational Materials on both sides. It was from someplace called Denmark, addressed to Ryder. The cover of the magazine inside was enough to tell Jeffrey he'd hit pay dirt.
The title was, Welcome to the Ranch, Dude. The cover featured two teenage boys at a stereotypical dude ranch. One was a shirtless ranch boy, otherwise dressed in Levi's, a Stetson cowboy hat, and well-worn Justin boots. The other was a city-boy guest, decked out in duds representing the latest Hollywood-cowboy image. From the lust in the city boy's eyes and the sly smirk on the country boy's face, their immediate future was pretty clear. Sure enough, the pictures within chronicled this initial encounter to the ranch boy's orgasm.
The magazine fell open to the centerfold. Apparently the focus of Derrick's attention, it became the focus of Jeffrey's attention too.
The blond, city boy lay on his back on a blanket-covered straw pile. Kneeling between his legs was the dark-haired, muscular ranch boy, a couple of years older. Their discarded clothing lay nearby. The older boy held the younger down with his left forearm, while his right hand guided his hard cock inside.
So, it was that simple. Just like his model airplane instructions: Insert Tab A into Slot B. The only differences were that you used spit instead of glue and didn't expect it to stay there permanently. He was glad he hadn't wasted any time on the books Derrick read. A picture was worth a thousand words.
During the next half hour, Jeffrey went through the magazine from cover to cover twice. Returning to the centerfold, he propped it against the foot of his bed while he satisfied his primal urges. Then he carefully returned it to the brown envelope and to its original location.
************
For the next poker game, Ryder left the top button of his Levi's unfastened. It took Derrick only a few seconds to notice and emulate - and reveal a hint of hard treasure at the end of the soft, blond trail.
Ryder dealt the cards. Derrick looked at his hand.
"That ranch boy is hot... He looks a lot like you."
Ryder took two cards.
"I'll open with three cents."
"Fold."
Derrick shuffled the cards and dealt them.
"I liked it when the city boy got nailed."
He glanced at Derrick as he picked up his cards.
"I bet it felt good."
Ryder looked at his cards.
"Open with a dollar."
Derrick looked up at Ryder's poker face.
"You're bluffing. You never bid that much."
"Only one way to find out."
"Find out what?"
"What cards I'm holding."
"Oh... I thought... Never mind... Fold."
Ryder took the pot and shuffled the cards.
"You wanna try it, don't you?"
Derrick swallowed hard.
"Yeah."
************
Jeffrey lay on his upper bunk reflecting on what he'd learned from the magazine. He'd look at it again except Derrick was next door playing poker and might come back any time.
Jeffrey looked at the clock. Nine-thirty. They usually finished by nine, and it had been quiet over there for a long time. He turned off the lights and uncovered the knothole.
Two pairs of Levi's lay abandoned on the floor. His brother lay on the bed with Ryder on top of him. Between Derrick's raised legs, Ryder's hips moved forward and back at a steady, moderate pace. Derrick's hands roamed over the older boy's muscular back, and his feet, the toes curled, hung loosely above Ryder's braced legs.
It was reasonably clear to Jeffrey that Tab A was in Slot B. The real-time, three-dimensional evidence was worth more than all the still images in Derrick's magazine.
Ryder's pace increased, and then suddenly he pushed forward hard. Derrick's hands grasped Ryder's shoulders and his toes curled even more tightly as he let out a sharp cry of excitement - and Jeffrey knew that something more than a smile had passed between them.
As Derrick followed Ryder off the bed, his own jizz glistened on his chest and ran down his abs. They talked quietly for a few moments before Derrick picked up his Levi's and a borrowed towel, and headed for the shower room.
Jeffrey covered the knothole. When Derrick slipped into the bedroom, he pretended to be asleep, but in fact he spent quite a while looking at the ceiling, trying to reconcile what he'd seen with the brother he knew. In the end, it wasn't difficult. Derrick had shown interest for years. That he'd done it was hardly surprising.
Derrick was also awake, excited about what he'd done. Nothing had ever felt so good as Ryder's hard body against his own and the steel shaft moving inside him. And when Ryder blew his load, Derrick knew he'd passed through a turnstile into uncharted territory.
Derrick was hard again. He quickly took care of that problem.
************
Derrick looked in his underwear drawer and smiled. The envelope was two inches further to the left than when he put it there. He'd known for some time that Jeffrey knew about his hiding place. The important stuff he hid elsewhere. The stuff he wanted Jeffrey to find went here.
Now that he'd done it one way, Derrick wanted to do it the other way too. Jeffrey would have been his first choice, but even though he knew his brother was curious, probably interested, and certainly informed, there was this taboo about screwing your brother.
He considered who else might be a candidate. Ryder? Not bloody likely, as his grandfather would say. Then he smiled as the obvious choice came to mind. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?
************
It had been a good evening for Derrick. He gathered his winnings and put them in his designated coffee can. Ryder's was next to his. The levels of each can rose and fell over time, but Ryder ensured that neither ever became empty. Ryder stood up and stretched sensually.
"Do I get a consolation prize?"
Derrick grinned broadly.
"What would you have said if you'd won?"
"I'd have wanted a reward for winning."
Derrick laughed out loud.
"So, either way, you're gonna screw me."
Ryder unbuttoned his Levi's, and pulled out his pole.
"We both know you want it."
The hunger in Derrick's eyes told Ryder he was correct. Derrick pulled off his Levi's and sat on the edge of the bed, still looking at Ryder's boner.
"By the way, Jeff's staying with Clayton tonight."
"Yeah, you mentioned that earlier."
"Did I? I must have forgot."
Lying back, Derrick put his hands behind his head.
"Are you gonna be here this weekend?"
"Nope. I'm off to the big city. Why?"
"Can I borrow your room?"
"Got something going?"
"Yeah... I'll wash the sheets when we're done."
Kneeling between Derrick's raised knees, Ryder grinned down at his buddy.
"In the morning or this weekend?"
Derrick grinned back.
"Both, if I get to stay all night."
Ryder chuckled as he lowered himself down over the blond sixteen-year-old.
"It's a deal. Sure, you can use my room, but you gotta tell me about it."
"Cool! Thanks, Ryder."
Ryder braced his knees and pushed forward. Derrick inhaled sharply, and his hands clutched at the bedding.
"Oh, yeah... "
************
