A story about Jeff Cable, who was a young man growing up on a farm outside of Malone, New York back in the late 60's and early 70's, and how his curious nature educated him in many ways.
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It was just a blurb in the local paper hidden on the bottom of the obituaries page, and since the man who had passed away in Florida had retired many years ago with his wife after selling his little farm, it was doubtful that all that many people knew him.
I did though. I knew Earl Barker very well and even though it had been over two decades since I had seen him and several Christmases had passed after my cards got returned stamped "not at this address", I still got choked up when I read of his death.
Earl Barker, Easy Earl to those who knew him, was a rarity in our parts. He was a black man for one thing and owned his own farm, and although it was only a tiny patch of land compared to our family farm he worked it hard and provided for himself and his wife.
Since Earl's land area was limited, he needed to supplement the income he got from his crops so at some point when I was too young to know about the real world he started to work for my father. Several hours a day when his own work at home was done he would come up and work with my Dad, and after I was done with school we would all work together.
Black folks weren't all that popular in some of those parts but Earl and his wife seemed to be accepted, although I heard there were some in town that didn't think much of my father getting chummy with one of "them".
As for me, I liked Earl just fine even though he was in his late 30's when I was 19 and we didn't have much in common at first, but he had a cassette player - a newfangled contraption at the time - and I got an education in Motown music as well as learning to take people as they were instead of what they looked like.
Earl was very friendly with my entire family. Mom liked him as much as my father did, and my older sister Becka also was quite chummy. Exactly how chummy was something I learned one day when my parents had driven into town with the pick-up loaded with some early corn.
I had been working with Earl way back in the field and this one afternoon Earl said he was taking a break for lunch and would be back after he checked on things at home. It was a muggy day and after working alone for a while I started to get thirsty. Having finished the water jug I decided to go up to the house and fill the jug and take a break myself.
When I passed the barn I heard a noise, and since we had no animals since our horse died the year before I went over to check to see what was up. It wasn't like we had much to steal but when there's a noise where there shouldn't be one a nosy guy like me had to investigate.
There was this part of the back wall where a couple of boards had warped to create an easy viewing spot, one that I had used when Becka used to bring this guy Steve Ford to make out. Steve in time became my big sister's fiancee so they didn't have to neck in the barn by then.
As I got closer the noises got louder. The noises were grunts and gasps, and the first thing I saw was my sister's work uniform on a bale of hay, the drab beige thing they made her wear behind the lunch counter of the Woolworth's in a heap along with her panties and a padded bra she barely needed.
I didn't see her face, just the dirty bottoms of her feet that were kicking in the air, and I didn't see the face of the guy who was standing up and fucking her like a wild man but I knew who it was and it sure wasn't Steve
It was Earl, with shirt off and his jeans and boxers crumpled around his ankles, thrusting to and fro and grunting with each slam of his body into Becka's. His dark black skin was shiny, his lean yet muscular body glistening with sweat, and I could see so well I could tell his ass had dimples.
I backtracked and hurried back to my work while trying to figure out what I had just seen. Becka was 20 at the time so she was no kid and could do what she wanted although she was going to get married, and Earl himself was married too.
As that image of Earl humping my sister kept going through my mind the disgust I had briefly felt evaporated, so much so that I knew I couldn't go on working so I went further back in the field so I was sheltered by a tree and out of sight.
I'm not ashamed to admit that I jerked off, which was my main form of entertainment since neighbors were scattered and girls were scarce. That was my excuse for not dating much when the subject came up, and while it was true to an extent, the real reason was that I wasn't sure about who the hell I was.
You see, when I jacked off thinking about Earl screwing my sister, I was thinking about him. I wished that I could have gotten a better look because by then I had already gotten a little obsessed with Earl's cock and was dying to wonder what it looked like hard.
I had seen it countless times already because there aren't any bathrooms out in the middle of a corn field, so you just went off to the side, whipped it out and let her rip. Unlike my modest self Earl made no effort to hide himself and I remember after seeing his cock for the first time I couldn't wait to tell my best friend.
Adam was a guy I got jerked off by and returned the favor before we then got a little more familiar with each other as time went on until he enlisted in the Air Force, so when I told him about seeing Earl's cock and described the anaconda-like organ he acted like it was no big deal.
He told me all black guys had huge cocks, but I knew differently because I had been in gym class with Ulysses Ashburn and except for the pigmentation his dick didn't look much different than mine, and trust me that's not big.
Anyway I didn't argue but always made a point to casually glance Earl's way whenever he pissed just to make sure my eyes hadn't been playing tricks on me.
"Poor Becka," I muttered before I came, the thought of my skinny sister getting impaled by what had to be over a foot and a half of Earl's big black cock both frightening and exciting me.
The foot and a half was only my guess since my own three limp inches grew to six when hard, and my buddy Adam's had also doubled in length. Therefore, after computing under my guesstimate that Earl's long black snake was an easy 8 or 9 inches limp, his would double as well.