Simons Farm

By Other Thing

Published on Dec 6, 2005

Gay

Simon's Farm (Part One)

I first saw Simon leaning against the gatepost as the bus pulled up in the lane outside the farm. It was a hot day and he was wearing just a t-shirt which clung tightly to his muscular chest. He was good looking, and my heart leapt as I saw him. I don't know what I imagined he'd be like, but not this. This was too good to be true. I dragged my heavy rucksack off the bus and the automatic doors hissed shut behind me, without even saying hello Simon lifted the bag up effortlessly onto his shoulders and flashed me a bright grin.

'You're Chris, right?'

'Yeah.' I said offering a hand for him to shake, which he seemed not to notice.

'Cool, thought I'd better check. Didn't want to take the wrong guy home with me.'

I laughed, and followed after him down a narrow dirt track that lead away from the road. I'd answered the advert without giving it much thought. They'd needed casual workers to help out on the farm, and I'd needed something to fill my summer away from uni. I had no idea what was required of me, but the advert said that no experience was necessary, and as I had none, it just seemed ideal.

Simon, however, was going to be an added bonus. As we progressed along the dirt track, I hung back letting him go ahead, but also taking an opportunity to check out his muscular legs, and tight round buttocks inside the clinging fabric of his shorts. I wondered whether he was gay and how I was to go about finding out this vital piece of information, but in the summer heat I began to wildly fantasize about the possibility of wrestling him to the ground right there and then and ripping the shorts off him in the middle of the track.

I began to get hard inside my jeans, so decided to catch up with him and stop lusting after his body. He was so much bigger than me, that the idea of wrestling him to the ground was pretty comical anyway. I started to walk alongside him and we began to chat about the farm, and about me, and what I was doing at university.

'So who lives at the farm?' I finally asked.

'Well there's me, and there's Karen, and Martin, and my brother Dan. Sometimes my dad's there. It used to be his place, but he gave it up to me and my brother.'

'Right,' I said, my heart already sinking at the mention of the woman's name, 'who's Karen?'

'Karen? She's my wife.'

'Right. Cool and Martin?'

'He's like you, just another casual. I hope you don't mind, but you're going to have to share a room with him.'

'No that's fine.' My heart was already sinking as we reached the end of the track. It was typical; the hottest guy I've seen in years and he's not only straight, he's married. It was going to be hell living with him, seeing his gorgeous body every day and knowing I'd never get chance to touch it. I began to curse his wife beneath my breath.

The path opened up onto the farmyard, and suddenly I took in quite how isolated the place was. The road the bus had come along was itself pretty lonely, but the farm itself could not be seen for the trees all around it.

'I bet no one knows this place is even here.' I said as we walked into the house.

'No one needs to. No neighbours for miles.' We entered a big and untidy kitchen. A large dog came running up to Simon, and jumped up, its paws against his firm stomach. He put my rucksack down by the table and called out to his wife,

'Karen! He's here!' After a few seconds a pretty, dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway to the room. She smiled and walked over to shake my hand.

'You must be Chris, we're very grateful for you answering the advert.'

'That's okay,' I said, 'I mean, you're paying me after all.' I could see what Simon saw in her, and the previous disappointment at discovering her existence, faded from my mind. She was a nice person, friendly, sweet. Together, they made a nice couple; they were homely above anything else. It just so happened that Simon was also incredibly hot.

'I'll show you your room.' She said and I followed her out of the kitchen and into a dark hallway and up a narrow flight of stairs. The whole house seemed dark and very old. We crossed a small landing and she opened a door to a room with two beds in it.

'Martin's working right now, but I think you'll get along. He's a quiet guy, keeps himself to himself, so he won't cause you any problems. You might want to unpack your things, have a rest before dinner.'

I turned to smile at her, and she smiled back.

'Yeah I'm pretty worn out from the journey.' I said.

'Well you'll get to meet everyone at dinner time.' She said and left the room closing the door behind her. I began to take in my new surroundings. The room was quite small and had only one small window at the far end of it. It was clear that someone was already living there; half the room, one of the beds and the space around it was surrounded by Martin's possessions. Discarded clothes littered the floor, a guitar leant against the wall on the other side of the bed. On the wall above the bed was a poster of a football player I'd never heard of. I'm not really into sport, and was kind of dreading having to explain that to someone who was a big enough fan to put a poster up in a room where he was only staying for a few months over the summer.

I sat down on my bed and pushed my rucksack underneath it. I'd unpack later on, for the moment I wasn't sure what exactly I was supposed to unpack my things into. Martin clearly had never found anywhere and seemed to prefer to dump his things on the floor around his bed. By my feet lay a pair of his discarded boxers. This kind of untidiness might start to piss me off in a few days. Things weren't looking good. I reached down to pick the boxers up and to throw them over onto his side of the room, but as I touched them I realised that they were wet. I let go, alarmed but in the same moment turned on. Checking that the door was shut, I cautiously got down off the bed and onto the floor to inspect them more closely without picking them up again.

I gingerly turned them over on the floor. They were drenched in cum. Not just a bit, not like the way when you're looking at porn on the internet and your cock gets hard and you leak a bit of precum into the crotch of your shorts, these were absolutely soaked in it. It was hard to believe one person could have produced so much. It hung in a big puddle inside them, still fluid, silvery-white and gooey. I was rock hard. Before I knew it I was tasting it. I had my lips in the crotch and I was sucking it out into my mouth. It seems crazy looking back, I'd not even seen the guy who'd produced it, but it was so unbelievably horny finding it there that I just had to. There was so much in there that I got a reasonable mouthful of the stuff, it was salty and delicious and I rubbed the boxers over my face, smearing it over me. I got my cock out of my jeans and began to play with it. I'm a good, solid, seven and a half inches, nice and thick with a firm round, purple head. I started giving it firm strokes, pumping away as I smelt the last traces of cum in the boxers.

Then it hit me, if this guy was capable of doing that, then surely he had other horny secrets about the place too. I slid my hand beneath his mattress, expecting to find porn magazines, there were none but I did get a good smell of his body on his sheets as I did it. I felt underneath the bed and found another pair of boxers, these weren't wet, but there were traces of them having received a heavy load at some point. I gave them a good sniff and continued to wank.

And I was in that position when the door opened, my back against Martin's bed, my jeans pulled down, beating my meat furiously with a pair of boxers pressed to my face. I just froze. It was Karen. She began to speak, and then realised what was happening,

'Chris, I just wanted to tell you... Oh... Oh God!' Her face brightened to scarlet and she turned her head away to look out into the hall. I immediately sprang to my feet, which wasn't altogether a good idea as it put my erect cock fully on view, she turned back saw it, and grew even more embarrassed.

'Karen, Karen... I'm sorry... I... err...' I stammered pulling my jeans up over my cock. She started to talk again, but continued staring out into the hallway.

'I... I just wanted to tell you that dinner would be ready in five minutes... If you'd like to... erm, join us once you're finished.'

'I'm so sorry!' I said, my cock rapidly softening inside my pants.

'No, it's my fault, I should have knocked.' She closed the door behind her and I heard her make her way down the stairs. In five minutes time I'd have to face her again, and sit politely at the table knowing I'd just shown her my erect cock; and not just her, there was also her gorgeous husband, and the guy I hadn't yet met but whose cum I had already eaten.

**** This is the first instalment guys. It gets much darker (and hornier) after this. Love to hear your comments otherness1981@hotmail.com ****

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