Countrymen

By Jeffrey Fletcher

Published on Jul 25, 2001

Gay

This is the first part of a series of stories. I hope you enjoy it. If you find man to man sex distasteful then surf elsewhere. I hope you enjoy it.

I would be grateful for any comments, especially from any reader whose own experience is similar to either of the characters in the story. I can be found on jeffyrks@hotmail.com

THE COUNTRYMEN PART 1

Since I have been retired one of my main means of exercise has been walking in the country. Each week I aim to go for a reasonable length walk. Under 7 miles is a stroll, under 10 a walk, 10 - 15 miles a good walk. A really good walk is one that entails walking where I have not walked before,

even though on a particular walk only a small stretch may be completely new to me. The map is studied, the footpaths and tracks pictured in my mind, pack-up prepared, ruck sack loaded and off I go.

That particular morning I parked my car on the grass verge of the lane leading into the village of Loftend. I put on my boots, and rucksack, and with my stick I was off. The first three hundred yards was through the village. I saw very few people, and just passed a few words with a man walking his dog. Then I turned off the road on a track between a couple of buildings. The walking was pleasant, grassy, and with the sun shining, my way was very pleasant. Then I came to a right angle turn and the track became a footpath down the side of a field into a wooded dry valley. At the end of the field there was a stile and as I climbed over it I heard the noise of someone working. I turned to my right and there was a man working cutting back a very overgrown hedge.

"Hi," I said in greeting.

"Morning," came his reply. He was, I suppose, in his late thirties or early forties. He was nearly six foot tall, and obvious physically fit and well muscled from his work on the farm. His hair was still dark and profuse, unlike my own sparse greyness.

"You've got a job on cutting that lot back?" I said.

"Aye. I'm cutting it back and putting in a fence to keep the beasts in when we put them in the field. Hedges soon get out of control."

He was wearing faded but clean jeans, a shirt and pullover, and gum boots.

"How often does a hedge like this need doing?"

"Too often."

We then started talking about the land. How extremely wet it was, and how the cattle and tractors were making a quagmire of mud wherever they went. We must have talked about farming for nearly ten minutes. I turned to go, and walked a few paces. "Where are you from?" he asked after I had walked three or four paces.

I told him.

"Where are you going now?"

I told him my route.

"That's a good way. Enjoy it." I walked off.

It was a grand day for walking. The sun was shining, and though much of the ground was very wet I had planned the walk to be mainly on tracks. As a large part of it was new to me, there was quite a bit of map reading to do. But I enjoy that. One particular stretch was very muddy, or clarty, as they say around here. I stopped and ate my pack-up in a sunny spot leaning back against a wall.

This walk was unusual, in that on most days when I walk I never see another soul, let alone speak to anyone. But this day there was not only the 'good day' to the man with a dog in the village, and the conversation with the farmer repairing his hedge, but there were two men leaning on a gate as I passed, a man on a horse, a farmer from who I asked directions as to exactly where the path went through his farm, and yet another farmer who kept me talking for about a quarter of an hour, before I could get away. Oh yes, and two men dry stone walling, who asked for help in lifting some of the large rocks. I just laughed.

Each conversation short or long gave some food for thought. But I gave little further thought to the farmer cutting down his over grown hedge.

Eventually I came towards the end of my walk. Nearly fourteen miles. I was reaching that stage when a bath or shower began a very attractive prospect. So it was that I began to walk back through the village, rather slower than I had set out in the morning. Then coming out from the track down which I had set out, came the farmer I had spoken to, carrying his chain saw. He saw me twenty yards up the road, and waited for me to reach him.

"Hi, have you had a good day?" he asked.

"Yea. Great. About fourteen miles, I reckon. What about you, finish work on the hedge?"

"'Fraid not. Never get all done that I'd hoped. Such is life."

I smiled, "I guess that's true for us all." I prepared to move off towards my car.

"Like a cup of tea? I live just down the road."

Now that really was temptation. The cup of tea in my mind was still nearly an hour away, but here was an immediate offer. "That sounds a very good idea."

We walked together about twenty yards down the road. "This is where I live." He turned in by the side of a small farmhouse. He opened the gate for me to pass through, and then the way round to the back door. There was a small wooden porch, with small benches each side. We both sat down on them to take off our muddy footwear before going into the house.

"You will have to excuse the mess. I live alone. Have done so since my mother died about ten years ago."

He led the way in. It was not really in a mess. The breakfast things were soaking in the sink. There was a Cornflakes packet, and a jar of marmalade on the table. But I know I had left the same at home. "I don't call this a mess. Mine is often far worse," I said.

"You live alone?"

"Yea."

"I'd'ave put you down for a married man," he said.

"I was once. But I've been free for nearly fifteen years."

"Oh. By the way, my name is Colin." he held out his hand.

"Mine's Phil." We shook hands. He filled a kettle from the tap, and switched it on.

"Sit down. Make yourself comfy." I sat down on one of the chairs at the table in the middle of the room.

He turned to put some tea in a tea pot. Then he bent down to take a tin out of a cupboard, and I got a vision of a full shapely bum in his jeans. I had better come clean. Yes, I am gay. I like the sight of a shapely bum.

My regret was that it was some considerable time since I had seen one in the flesh, and touched the body of another man. That is part of the penalty of getting older. He stood up, and catching my expression gave a slight smile.

He opened the tin. "Its bought cake, I am afraid. Mum used to do all the baking. But somehow I've never got into that. I can cook many things, had to learn when Mum was very ill and after she had died. But not cakes and pastry."

"Did you find it hard, living alone when your Mum died?" I asked.

"In some ways I was broken into domesticity slowly. She were ill for about eighteen months, slowly getting worse. So I was having to do things increasingly all that time. But she were around to tell me what to do."

"Did you have any help?"

"Ma insisted I got someone in to do the cleaning. Over the last part we had nurses in and out."

"How did you find it when it actually came to being alone?"

"Not too bad. I actually enjoy my freedom." He grinned. "I told the cleaner I would manage; and of course, the nurses weren't needed any more."

"Do you have help on the farm?"

"Only when I need it. There are a couple of older guys who like to turn in the odd day or two of work from time to time. Otherwise I manage okay."

"Everything"

"Yes I lead a disciplined life. There is only me to clean up for. I only use three rooms, here, bedroom and bathroom. Clean them once a week. The rest get a quick flip round every few months. I'm fortunate, for most farmers the real bind is the paper work. But my parents insisted that I did a sort of business course at the local college. That was a real help. Papers, forms, tax, accounts don't hold any real terrors for me. I can do the paper work quite quickly. Some guys spend hours and hours filling in the simplest forms."

He turned and poured out a couple of mugs of tea, and handed me one. He then leant back, perching his bum on the edge of the sink. He held his mug in his hand and sipped the hot tea.

"Help yourself to a cake," he said, pointing to the tin. "How did you manage when your wife . .. er..."

"Left me. I am divorced."

"Oh. I see. How did you find it on your own?"

"For me it was the first time, as I suppose it was for you. I have two kids but they are grown up and away from home now. It was a bit bleak at first. There was a steep learning curve. But I too enjoyed my freedom."

"Did she go off with another guy?"

"No."

"Sorry, I'm being nosy."

"Not at all. I think we were just incompatible. I don't really blame her. When the kids went to college, she upped and offed."

Colin finished his tea, and putting his mug down, put his thumbs in his pockets with his hands over his groin. I wondered again what might lie between those hands under the denim.

"You never thought about marrying again?"

"No way. Making a hash of one woman's life was enough. I knew enough not to do it again. You've never married then?"

"No." He laughed.

He poured us both out another mug of tea, and then he sat opposite me at the table. He asked me about my kids, and I asked him more about the farm.

Eventually I glanced at my watch. "That the time. I must be going." I stood up, and stretched. It was the sign of advancing years, that a long walk followed by a long sit, always seemed to make it agony when I stood up. It always soon wore off, but it was painful for the moment. "I need to get to a bath before I completely stiffen up." I said with a grin.

"Why don't you have a shower here. There's plenty of hot water."

I thought for a moment. "I must say that sounds a nice idea. But surely it is putting you to trouble."

"Not at all. There will only be a dirty towel, and that is soon seen to, it will go straight in the tub."

"Well, if it is okay with you. Yes, I'd like that."

"I'll join you and have one with you," Colin said.

"You'll what?" I said in shocked and embarrassed reply.

"I said, I'll have a shower with you. You're gay aren't you?"

"Er yes, why? ...... How did you know?..... Are you?"

He grinned. "You know the old saying, 'It takes one to know one,' don't you?"

"Yea,. You are too?"

"Yea, I am too."

"But how did you know, was it just intuition?"

"Not entirely. There was the way you looked at me. Several times your eyes on my crotch. Your marriage, wife just left, and not for another guy. You've not married again, or are out walking with a woman. Put two and two together and made the right answer," he said with a laugh. "Would you like a shower?"

I looked at him directly, and into his eyes. "Yes, I think I would."

"Follow me then."

Colin led the way out the kitchen and into the hall. Then he went up stairs two at a time. I followed one step at a time. He showed the way into the bathroom.

"I had this done up when Mum died. Put in a proper shower. It used to be one of those feeble trickles over the bath. Hold on I'll get you a towel."

He popped out of the room but was soon back with the towel. "Make yourself at home. You get in first, and I'll join you." He showed me the shower controls and then left me to it.

I undressed. I must admit I had to sit down to pull off my two pairs of socks. I must confess I left my clothes in a heap on the floor. I tested the water before getting into the shower. Colin had been right. It was a large shower cubicle, the water jet was adjustable and on strong. My skin began to feel water blasted. After a minute or so I turned down the jet, and began to soap myself. Then I felt a cold blast down my back. The door was open and in stepped Colin. Though I knew he was going to join me, I was suddenly enbarrassed. I was immediately conscious of my age, and his younger more perfect physique. And also it was a number of years since I had had sex with another guy. I kept my back to him, as I knew that my equipment was in danger of beginning to take preparatory action.

I must have expressed some surprise, because Colin said, "Come on. Give me the soap, and I'll do your back."

He grabbed the soap, and began to lather my back. His hands seemed huge. What did amaze me was both how gentle he was, and how firm and expert his fingers seemed as they kneaded my back. It felt great, but it was doing things to me. I covered my equipment with my hands.

"That's great," I said. "You can keep on doing that."

"I thought you'd like it."

His hands began to reach round and he soon found my nipples. He played with them for a while. Then as he continued to lather me, his hands began to move down my chest and over my stomach. One hand forced itself under my hands and reached my cock.

"I thought you'd enjoy it. Come on, relax and enjoy it. Turn round and let me have a proper look at you."

I turned and not only did he get a look at my very rampant cock, I also got a proper look at him. He was a fully mature man. There was a very slight thickening round the waist. His chest was covered in thick dark hair. It was a definite thick area of hair, it did not thin out as it stretched up to his neck and shoulders, as it does with so many men. It just stopped. Then there was a thick trail of hair and inch or perhaps two broad stretching over his stomach; then spreading out again into a thick jungle of hair in his crotch. From this his semi-rampant cock protruded. It hung half erect, still with a distinct curve to it. It was uncut, and the head was just beginning to take a peep at the interesting world.

And what would he have seen. A man an inch or two shorter. Fairly covered with hair, no so thick but more widespread. My cock was standing fully erect, possibly when his was fully charged mine was slightly shorter than his.

He looked me in the eye. "That's better."

He put his hands on the sides of my face and pulled me to him. We kissed, with increasingly passion. I put my hands round his back and pulled him to me, and then down on his buttocks, so our cocks were together. We stood there for some time, each enjoying the warm and embrace of the other. When we eventually broke I put my fingers to his chest and explored in the thatch until I found his nipples. These soon hardened to my touch. His hands were reaching down to my cock and balls. I ran my hands down to his, and held his cock. We looked into each others eyes and grinned.

"This was really why you wife left you?" he asked.

"I think so. She never knew I really liked men; but the fact that I did, meant there was something lacking in our relationship together. We are still in touch. Even have the odd meal out together. Sort of friends."

We hugged and kissed each other again, and ground our cocks together.

He whispered in my ear. "Do you know what I want to do? I want to fuck you!"

"Oh!" I said. "It has been some time since I have had that. When you get older the opportunities decrease."

"Shame. But that's what I want." His fingers were beginning to explore where he wanted his cock to go. "Can I?"

"If you are careful."

"Oh. I'll be careful, as gentle as I can be. How long is it since you were last fucked?"

I thought for a moment. "About five years."

"That long. So it will almost be for a second first time"

I laughed.

"Hold on a moment, while I get the necessary." He slipped out of the shower, and returned with a condom and some lube. He then turn off the shower. Don't want the water filling the condom before I get it on."

I laughed and took the small black container from him. I tore open the packet, and took out the condom, and began to put it on his cock. When it was fully on, I stroked his balls, delighting in the soft hairs with which they were covered. We kissed and hugged again. Then he began to put the lube on his cock. I turned and leant forward putting my head into the corner of the shower, and sticking my bum out for him. He then began to put the lube on and into me. I felt his hands on my buttocks and the tip of his cock pressed at my sensitive entrance. With minutest of movements, he began to press into me. For a while nothing seemed to happen, then the pain began to mount, I was just about to ask him to hang on a moment, when I felt the head go in. He stopped immediately. "Stage one, accomplished," he said. "I hope that was not too painful."

"Nearly, but not quite. Hold on for a moment." His hands began to move all over me. He leant forward and kissed my neck, and nibbled my ear lobe.

I didn't dare move as I did not want his cock to slip out and we have to start all over again. I felt myself relax.

Then with more of those small movements, he moved into me. It felt wonderful as his love stick filled me. I felt the wiry hairs of his crotch against my bum, and his balls almost trying to follow his cock. He held it there, he turned the shower back on, and we both relaxed.

"Was it too bad after five years?" he asked.

"Worth all of it for what it is now." I replied. He hugged me, and I straightened and turned my head so that we could kiss. We just stood there,

enjoying each point of bodily contact. I remember consciously thinking, I like the feel of his hairy chest on my back, and the feel of our hairy legs together. Yes, and the feel of his balls, full now, but soon to empty inside me.

"How have you managed without it for so long?"

"With difficulty. My hand is kept busy at times."

"What a waste. If you've enjoyed it you must come again."

"That would be nice. But what about you. Out here in the wilds, where do you go for action?"

"There are four of us who live near here who like this sort of thing. We have a pact together, and meet about once a month for a drink and then come back here. I have a room where we have a foursome."

"Are they all about your age?"

"No, one is a young guy bout twenty. He is insatiable. Making for a lot of fun and action. Then there is a guy in his forties, and the other must be about your age."

"Is that why you were not put off by my being older than you?"

"Age is no problem with me. He was the first guy I ever had sex with, so that's probably the reason why. No, you've got a good body. You're fit, you've not got a great beer gut. There is an interesting story with us all."

"Lucky you, you seem to see a lot of action."

"Yes, and finding you today is another, extra, bit of luck."

"For me, as well." We kissed again.

I don't know how long we stood there, but at a while he began to move. He thrust into me, and I pushed back. We both started making appreciative sounds, and words. We both began to tense at the same time. The same time I felt his cock pulsate in me, I shot a load in great squirts on to the wall of the shower.

"It is a long while since I shot so much, so hard."

"Good, that was great for me."

"And for me too."

I began to feel his cock soften within me. He pulled it out, and whipped off the condom, and dropped it on the floor of the shower. I turned towards him, and we held each other gently for a few minutes. Then as if by common agreement, we parted. We got out of the shower, and dried each other. Then we dressed. We had little to say to each other. We went down stairs. He came with me into the porch where I put on my boots.

"Thank you, for that unexpected pleasure."

"Give me a ring and come again. What about next week sometime?"

"I'll have to look at my diary. But I will ring you."

We stood in his porch and kissed, and then I took myself off home.

Next: Chapter 2


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate