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The second part of “Reunions” will go up tomorrow, and promise it will have way more redneck sexy times in it. In other news, Wesley now has a twitter account (@WesleyBracken) so if you feel like listening to be ramble on about politics, baking, short flash fictions, stuff I’m working on, my three dogs, and the ridiculous “pornographic” photos on tumblr you’re welcome to follow me. Warning: if you think my asks are too snarky, you will probably not like what I have to say on twitter. And speaking of asks! Ask me things if you’d like! Because what have you got to lose?

Reunions (Part 1)

[Top: Brent on the left, Aaron on the right. Bottom: Brent’s uncles Jed and Duke.]

***

“Sure I can give you a ride…you don’t seem that happy about it though.”

“My family’s just–well, would you want to visit them, really? If they were yours and you could be here instead?”

“Why go then?”

“I can’t just not go.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I could stay the week with you, if you want. Keep you company.”

“Thanks, but that would make me look more like a fag–I’m already ‘the boy who went to college.’ They’d probably hang us up if they thought I’d brought a boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure they’d just think that we’re friends.”

“My family isn’t that…look, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I asked, but you really shouldn’t stay. They’ll be angry.”

“Why?”

“It’s…just…”

“Complicated?”

“Yeah.”

“Complicated how? I mean, why go see a bunch of people you hate and who hate you for a week?”

“Because they’re all I’ve got, in a way. I mean, if college doesn’t work out, what then? Where would I go? If I don’t show up, then they’ll think that I don’t love them.”

“You don’t love them though. They don’t love you either, from what you’ve told me.”

“They love an idea of me.”

“That’s not enough.”

“It’s not enough, but it’s something.”

***

Aaron’s compact sedan bounced on the gravel and into the dust, pulling up next to one of the many trucks already parked at the Taylor Men’s Family Reunion. You could tell from the rust, the missing bumpers and the confederate flag stickers that any vehicles in good condition was a sign that you were too weak to keep an engine running past three hundred thousand miles.

Brent Taylor, in the passenger seat, was five foot four and weighed in at one fifty. He was the first son in his family to go to college, he had done his best to rid himself of the Appalachian accent of his youth, he was not very smart but was smart enough to know that if he didn’t get a degree he’d be living with his family for the rest of his life. His roommate at college was Aaron Dansen, the six foot three, two hundred and forty pound linebacker of the football team. He was closeted, he’d already been featured as a rising star of football in several small magazines and he was only a freshman, and he knew several professional scouts by first name. They both got along surprisingly well during their first year, even though Aaron had beaten up bigger kids for their lunch money in high school, and Brent was suspicious of anyone Aaron’s size, and their friendship was the strongest bond either of them had made that year. Brent had already blown through relationships with two girls he met and fucked when he was too drunk to pick better, and Aaron had been secretly sucking off the assistant football coach since after the first practice, and would occasionally fuck the only other closeted player on the team, who happened to be a slightly bigger bottom than he was. Brent didn’t know Aaron was gay, but he wouldn’t have cared if he had known. Being thought a fag by his family made him more sympathetic than most.

Two men were by the vehicles in the evening light, and they approached the unfamiliar vehicle. Brent climbed out, and rounded on the trunk of the car ready to get his bag out and get away before they spoke to him. The lid didn’t pop fast enough, and he was forced to greet them. “Hey Uncle Jed, Uncle Duke.”

“Hey faggot,” Jed said. Brent smelled at least three kinds of beer and bargain whisky, not a good sign, “Thought you’d skip this year for sure, after getting into faggot college. What classes are you taking? Prissy 101? Intro to cocksucking?”

Duke looked embarrassed for his step-brother, but not embarrassed enough for them both to tell Jed to shut up.

Uncomfortable, Aaron tried to redirect their attention, “Hi, I’m Aaron.”

“You the faggot’s boyfriend?”

“Roommate.”

“They still call it that? Though you faggots were supposed to be liberated now? Gettin’ up in everyone’s faces everywhere,” Jed strutted over, but found he was four inches too short to pull of menacing, and had to settle for belligerent. “Still, if you like stickin’ your cock up my nephew’s butt, at least he’s being useful for someone.”

“Come on,” Brent said grabbing his duffel bag, “He’ll be nicer when he sobers up next week.” Jed heckled them some more as they grabbed their bags and walked to the barn. The kids usually slept in the loft, and it was much more private than the pasture where everyone else pitched their tents for the week. He climbed the ladder and found two if his cousins there already, Jamie and Will, their faces red, out of breath and pulling up their pants. They all stood in uneasy silence for a moment as Aaron hefted himself up the ladder after him, and looked at what they’d stumbled on.

“Wanna see if we can shoot a hare?” Will said, “Dad bought me a .22 for Christmas.”

“S…Sure…”

They darted past the older boys and out of the barn, leaving Will’s gun behind, darting between half-erected tents in the pasture and into the woods. Aaron was hard, Brent was oblivious. He dropped his bag next to a cot and told Aaron to claim one while he had a chance. The smell of three kinds of charred meat on the wind was making them both hungry, but only Aaron admitted it.

“If you want dinner, I’d head down if I were you, before Jed tells everyone you’re my top.”

“He’s a charmer,” Aaron said, wondering whether the redneck’s gut was furred or smooth. He hoped for fur. “Are you coming, or should I bring you something back?”

“I’m gonna sleep while everyone’s out–the kids stay up all night usually. I’ll pick some of the scraps once everyone’s more drunk.”

Aaron shrugged and headed back down to the barn floor. He could see Jed’s fat ass through a broken window, and he crouched down, jacking quietly, thinking about that gut a bit more, about those two cousins, about a way of life he’d never had in suburban Atlanta, always a future sports star, always destined for the top, always watched, always warned, always desperate for someone to fuck and love and family, a muddled tumor on the wall of his heart.

Aaron licked his lips, hungry. Jed would tell Duke that he was going to teach that faggot nephew of his a lesson. Jed would storm over here into the barn, and he’d find Aaron there, dick out, hard, shaking slightly in the dry straw, licking his lips. Jed would figure that one faggot cunt is as good as any other, but once he had his thick, uncut cock buried in Aaron’s hole, fuck, he’d realize that ass is better than any cunt he’s ever been in. He’d be confused first, after cumming quick, but he would keep coming back all week, first forcefully, but Aaron would break him down, Jed would love his ass, and then he’d love him, and then Aaron wouldn’t have to go back to college, to that life, he could stay here with Daddy Jed, a hot redneck cub, a drunkard, smoking cigars, cock plugged with his daddy’s friends’ cocks all day long, and–

With a groan, muffled as best as he could, he shot his load against the wooden wall of the barn, eyes closed. He didn’t need to see Jed anymore–his idea of Jed was more important to him now anyway. Panting, waiting for the throbbing shots to subside, he zipped his fly back up, feeling the last few dribbles of cum turn cold in his briefs. He wiped the cum smooth on the side of wall, until it turned tacky, and then he slipped out of the barn towards the smell of meat, and the sounds of laughter and family.

Can you mention which ones they were and what did they say? I I think I remember the one about cowboy boots.

Linkdump:

http://wesleybracken.tumblr.com/post/65726362411/carefree-cigars-that-was-what-the-label-said (featuring Tony)

http://wesleybracken.tumblr.com/post/68306148070/just-keep-in-mind-that-everything-is-bigger-in (featuring dbear)

http://wesleybracken.tumblr.com/post/30249893069/no-officer-you-know-what-i-dont-really-think (featuring Tusker)

pompousbread:

wesleybracken:

The summer was sweltering, and Jordan was definitely thankful for having a pool out back that he could jump in at anytime he felt like. He’d wake up late, after his parents had already left for work, throw on his swim trunks and after a quick protein shake for breakfast, he’d be out back in the pool.

However, if Jordan had bothered to turn on the TV this morning, he would have found out that a chemical company had accidentally dumped an unknown, untested chemical into the river the night before, polluting the entire neighborhood’s water supply, his pool included. That said, when Jordan stepped out onto the patio, he definitely knew something was up, because the usually clear water was instead a vibrant green.

Still, Jordan wasn’t about to let something like that deter him from his daily pool, and the day was heating up quick. It didn’t smell bad after all, and it even tasted normal. With a shrug, he dove in, swam a couple of laps before his skin started to tingle and he was starting to struggle in the water for some reason. Figuring he should probably get out, he maneuvered over to a side ladder and tried, unsuccessfully, to heft himself up out of the pool.

He just felt so weak all of a sudden, and like his body weighed a whole lot more than it should have. He gave it another try, eyes shut in concentration, and managed to heft himself up the ladder and onto the side of the pool, huffing hard, when he looked down at himself in disbelief. What in the hell had the water done to him? He’d packed on close to a hundred pounds, and his body was covered with hair. His swim trunks were nowhere to be seen; he must have burst out of them in the water without even noticing. Still coated in the water, he rushed inside to get a better look at himself in a mirror, but by the time he’d gotten to the one in the hall, he saw that the changes had progressed even further. The hair on his head was entirely gone, and the beard which had sprouted across his face was now not only several inches long, but nearly entirely white. His gut was now hanging even lower, and the rest of his body was filling out, making it hard for him to walk, and the hair on his skin was so dense he could barely see his skin.

Realizing that he was still coated in the strange water, he waddled back out and dried himself off with a towel, but the damage was done. Weighing in at over 600 pounds, inch long hairs coating his entire body, aged to look nearly seventy years old, Jordan discovered one last side effect of the water—his balls. They had swelled up to nearly four times the size, eclipsing the cock he could no longer reach imbedded in his fat, and unable to help himself, he spent the rest of the day fucking his fat pad, shooting load after load of cum, sobbing and unable to control himself, until his parents got home from work and took him to the hospital.

Needless to say, Jordan received a sizeable settlement from the chemical company, but the changes were irreversible. One silver lining was that, even though Jordan looked to be seventy, he was still as healthy as he’d been in his late teens, and the fat he’d gained appeared to have no health dangers—though he never managed to lose a pound of it. Instead, he resigned himself to a life as a rich, obese old pervert, jacking off nearly constantly—but he never went into a pool again.

What the fuck did I just read

A story, dumbass. What did you think it was?

Source: wesleybracken

How do you deal with the fact that people whose photos were used in your captions might read them?

I try not to think about it, lol.

That said, while I have had people in photos contact me, I haven’t had anyone unhappy with their stories. In a few cases, I have used photos by people I know in stories that I knew they would like. That said, I’m sure one day I’ll get a message from someone less than happy, and I’ll probably remove the photo or replace it with a similar one.

That said, don’t put your photos up on the internet if you want any semblance of control over them. I consider these stories fair use, myself.

Would you mind explaining what exactly is so appealing about transforming young men into old men?

Well, it can be appealing in one of two ways, depending on whether you’re interested in age progression from a destructive or constructive viewpoint. (For more on what I mean by constructive and destructive, go read this article by me at the NCMC). Like many fetishes, AP can be used both as a reward and as a punishment, and so it’s appeal can differ depending on who you ask.

Some people simply are attracted to older men (myself included). For these readers, the simple act of growing older gives them an erotic thrill, and they consider AP a constructive transformation, moving them closer to their personal ideal. In my mind, the authors at the furthest end of this spectrum would be Mark Gordon and Rik. The appeal lies the appreciation of the maturity and respect growing older tends to engender. There is a desire in these works for a simpler, more comfortable life that growing older tends to give someone. That said, constructive age progression tales are vastly outnumbered by destructive age progression tales.

Much more often, the act of aging is treated negatively, often in revenge stories, where the act of aging is instead treated as a destruction of a young man’s potential life. It is still possible to have AP presented destructively and still have an appreciation for the older erotic, but this is generally tempered by a certain amount of fear and regret as the subject’s assumed time of death leaps forward by decades. In these stories, the erotic transforms into a sadistic/masochistic force, depending on the perspective of the story. 

All of that said, the tone of your initial question implied a certain skepticism towards AP at all, which is fine too. Some people don’t find older men attractive–fair enough, but this is a basic summary of the motivations I perceive behind the fetish.