This is my first effort at erotic gay fiction. Since that time, I have written several others, which will be submitted very soon. I hope the work gives as much pleasure to readers as it has to its writer.
This story contains graphic depictions of sexual acts between men. If that offends you, if you are not of age, or if it is illegal in your area, do not read any further. This is a work of fantasy. If you do what is described here, you are a suicidal fool. Practice safe sex!
THE FARM BOY
Life is best lived hard--or with a hard-on at least: my motto. In my work as a traveling business rep, I have left semen samples in many a motel room, restaurant john, and roadside rest area. My district is a largely rural one, and sometimes I have skinny dipped in woodsy streams, sunbathed on open pastures not my own, and jerked off under sun or stars in isolated places. Sometimes not so isolated. One glorious and memorable day when I was not alone in my enjoyment of the body beautiful began inauspiciously enough as I drove along a county farm road on a warm and sunny early summer day. As I crossed the concrete bridge over a rocky creek and headed up the opposite slope of the hill, I could see a sizeable field in hay on my right spreading over the hillside. Just at that moment, a tractor with mower attached rounded the horizon of the hill. On that tractor was a shirtless late-teenage boy, cut-offs, athletic shoes, cap and sunglasses being his only clothing adornments. I quickly pulled over to the weedy shoulder and parked the car with a view of the whole slope rising before me. The boy approached following the edge of his previous swath, and I had an opportunity to give him a good looking over.
He would have been about eighteen years old, in the bloom of young masculine beauty, having just reached the full growth of manhood. His folded body looked tall, maybe six feet two or so. The smooth hair under his black auto parts cap was long and a deep chestnut brown, pulled back into a loose ponytail in the back that hung down past his shoulders. Beneath the dark glasses his face was bronzed by the sun, strong-jawed, and handsome. His brown and brawny shoulders were wide and well muscled, proclaiming not only a life of hard work on the farm but also some serious training in the weight room. His chest was deep and sculpted. There was a centered triangle of silky brown hair between his small, brown nipples. From there a thin, inviting trail of hair descended around the navel and downward into the waist of the low-slung jeans. His abdominal muscles rippled and flexed as the tractor jounced over the undulating ground.
The mower passed my observation point and gave me a view of the boy from the back as he traveled up the hill and over its crest on the far side of the field. Those shoulders were as muscled and beautiful from the back as from the front. The smooth, sun-browned skin of his back gripped tightly upon strong, defined musculature, narrowing sharply toward the waist. The pants line dipped tantalizing and beltless in the back, but the straight white line of white briefs cruelly disappointed my prayers for butt cleavage. Even so, I liked the way the shorts curled around that slender ass.
I was captivated. Within a few minutes, the tractor appeared again as it had before. But this time I had my binoculars out of my glove compartment and my eight and a half inch cut cock out of my pants. It stretched up its beautiful, finely sculptured head as I lifted the glasses to my eyes. I studied my young subject's face and body as he made his rounds, again and again. As I did so, I stroked my own dick, sending shivers of visual and tactile stimulation down deep into my balls. They tightened up approvingly within their shaved sack.
The boy had an inviting three-day stubble of young beard on his manly face. His mouth was wide and sensuous, lips expressive and eminently kissable. Sexual energy exuded from his very pores, along with a thin coating of shiny man-sweat. The sun shone down upon his hillside, making him glow as if with heat from within. I certainly was developing a heat from within -- from within my groin! My breathing grew quicker as my cock within my fist drooled with pre-cum and ached longingly for release.
By this time, the boy was about half finished with his task. He looked curiously in my direction a time or two as he passed nearby, but I was sure he could not see me flogging on my boner within the car. He could see the binoculars, though, and with just a little imagination, he could have guessed what I was scrutinizing from his roadside. Abruptly, he stopped the tractor in the center of the field just at the optimum position for my viewing pleasure. He stood and turned to face me. Staring straight into my binoculars, he dropped his hand to his shorts and with one motion pulled open the button and the zipper. The shorts dropped like a stone between his white Nikes, leaving him standing in his heavily front-loaded white bikini briefs. His upper thighs beyond the tan- line gleamed. The trail of hair beckoned from within. Then he placed his hands on his hips and slowly and dramatically slid the white Calvins down around his calves, exposing his middle region in all of its youthful glory. I gasped aloud with surprise and pleasure, focusing the binoculars on my favorite body part.
That trail of soft, brown hair led down to an explosion of brown pubes, now sweat-damp and coiled. Out of them there hung (and "hung" is the operative word here) a wonderfully fleshy protuberance the likes of which I have rarely seen. It was shrouded in its intact foreskin, but I could see the outline of the luscious cock-head underneath. The veined shaft was meaty and substantial even in its flaccid state, but the loose folds of skin sheathing it seemed to promise much expansion. Finally there were the balls. They were impressive banty-egg sized orbs, suspended in a tan and lightly furred scrotal sling. The right nut hung just slightly lower than the left.
Suddenly those testicles contracted in their sack, and a powerful golden stream of urine poured forth from the puckering foreskin. It was a young man's piss, abundant and authoritative, arching far out from the side of the tractor into the cut grass. I watched, enthralled, as it cascaded out, then finally subsided to a trickle. The boy's hands were back on his hips. Two or three more short spurts of piss emerged, then a drop. He did not touch himself, did not shake the cock dry. He waited, frozen like a Greek fountain ornament, until the final drop detached itself and fell.
Only a moment passed, but it could have been an hour. I was transfixed, hypnotized by that delectable piece of male meat. But my entertainment was not finished. Still he never touched his cock. He simply willed it to arise and come to life, and that is what it did. It arched its back like the living thing it was, and began to stretch upward toward the sky. As it did, it lengthened and thickened to the full proportion that I had imagined. It soared upward unsupported, as only a young man's cock can do, until it passed the youth's navel and gazed its single eye toward his breast bone. Meanwhile, the shroud of the foreskin began to slide back gracefully like a monk's hood, revealing the magnificently sculptured head of the cock. It was a cock of dreams, fully nine to ten inches long, straight and strong and thick--not the largest cock I have seen, but one of the most aesthetically pleasing. The farm boy waggled his slim, muscular hips very gently, and the whole incredible erection swung tantalizingly left to right, balls swaying along underneath.
Just then I shot a load of cum that had been building almost painfully for several minutes. The first volley spattered onto the rear view mirror and clung there until, dragged by its own wet weight, it began to slide and drip down onto the console. Other spurts headed for the windshield, the dashboard, the steering wheel and all points. It was a major cum-load and would take some cleaning up later on. But for the moment I was too busy. For my farm boy had quickly pulled up his briefs and shorts, snatched his tee shirt off of the seat, and dropped gracefully to the ground. He was now striding across the cut grass, heading up the edge of the field away from the road. But before he passed out of my view, I saw his arm swing back toward me and then sweep forward, gesturing me, I thought, to follow. I would probably have followed anyway, I was so saturated with lust. I jumped out of the car, just letting my drooling but now flagging cock slip back into my fly but not bothering to zip up.
My fear was that as I crested the hill I would have lost track of where the young hunk had gone. He was not in sight. But at the edge of the field as the slope swept back down toward the creek, I saw where he had left his tee shirt hanging on a bush beside a narrow, inconspicuous trail. I turned into the trail and followed a few yards where it entered the trees. The trail twisted and turned among trees and rocks, descending steeply. Soon I spied another sign: the cut-off jeans, hanging by a belt loop from a low tree limb, still swinging gently. A little further were the shoes, neatly placed side by side at the edge of the path. Finally I could hear the water of the creek flowing just beyond a row of bushes that overgrew the trail. On one of those bushes hung a white bikini brief, waving me on like a flag. On the other side, I heard splashing sounds.
I stopped right there and began to strip off my clothes, not as neatly or deliberately as my intended partner had done. In a flash I had a pile of clothing and shoes dumped unceremoniously upon the ground. I stepped through the soft, leafy branches of the bushes stark naked, their limbs tickling my thighs as I passed.
Now I am myself no slouch in the physique department. I am older than my young friend, but at twenty eight I am in my prime. I am six feet tall and honey blond, with my hair cut in a medium businessman trim. My blue eyes and Roman nose distinguish a long and lean face, finished off with a light, neat mustache. Words like "hot," "hung," and "handsome" have been spoken in describing me, and recently. Below the chin my body is long, slender, muscular, tanned, and trimmed: My body hair is light, but what there is is sculpted by razor and hair remover into an artful presentation. (Remember, I have a lot of time on my hands in those motel rooms.) My deep golden pubes, tamed and shaped into a reminder of my mustache, invite the gaze toward my impressive dick, the aforementioned eight-plus incher, straight and thick and perfectly proportioned. Just now it was swinging confidently and enticingly as I stepped out onto the narrow creek bank and into the water.
What greeted my eyes as I emerged into the open was, first of all a five-yard expanse of clear creek water, graveled bottom sloping quickly to a depth of about three feet. Then a large flat rock rising in the center of the creek, a tadpole of an island with soil and vegetation on the pointed upper end. Then the boy, sprawled on his back on the rock in the dappled sunlight, completely naked as I expected, his legs parted provocatively and one knee pulled upward, one hand behind his head, the other caressing his curly brown pubes. He watched my nude emergence with interest followed by a broad grin.
"I thought I had you hooked," he said, his voice deep and husky.
"Of course I had to follow," I responded. "But how did you know you wanted me to?"
"I couldn't see your face because of those damned binoculars," he said, "but I could see the head of that cock you were stroking up above the rim of the steering wheel. I wanted some of that even if I had to put my underwear over your head in order to enjoy it." He laughed.
Oops. I wonder how many others have watched me jerk off in the company car when I thought they couldn't see me.
"So what do you think? Shall I stick my head in your underwear?" The idea had a certain appeal to me.
"Naw," he said, "I like the way you look. I like it a lot."
Enough chitchat. Time to get down to some serious sex play. After all, it had been nearly ten minutes since I shot a load, pretty long for me to go, at least in the presence of such a stimulus. I waded into the creek. Since this side of the island was the main channel, it deepened quickly. The water felt great on my legs, but my balls drew back in shock when the cold water enfolded them. I took the opportunity to swish my cock in the water to remove the crust of cum. But two or three steps and I was rising up onto the flat rock. Now I took my eyes off of the cock in front of me (which incidentally was hanging languidly between his open legs, its head resting on the smooth rock) long enough to notice other things. My new friend had taken the time to immerse himself in the creek to cool off as he crossed. He dripped with water from head to foot. Shit, I thought, I wanted to lick that sweat off myself. Now I'll have to settle for tongue-drying the creek water from him. My lustful expression must have amused him. He laughed softly and stretched out both legs, feet extending into the water. His legs were gorgeous things, long, shapely and muscular as a dancer's, sprinkled with wet brown hair, and ending in beautiful, slim but manly feet. Those toes may need sucking later, too, I thought. But for now...
I knelt before him, just at the edge of the water, my feet and lower legs still in the creek. Then I began to crawl upward between his legs toward his inviting crotch. His rod began to arise again as it had before, without a touch. I stared at it in awe and longing. From my new vantage point of a few inches, it was even more impressive than in the binoculars. The shaft was substantial, more than five inches around. The skin was smooth and velvety. The foreskin lay in folds at the base of the head, baring that luscious mushroom cap to my gaze and to my tongue. I bent to taste the pre-cum that now began to glisten on the tip. Then gently I took the head of that cock into my mouth, savoring the size and feel and tangy flavor of it. The farm boy sighed deeply, and a little shiver ran through his entire body. I felt joy in the prospect of pleasuring him. I began to suck him in more deeply, rhythmically rocking my head down lower and lower on his penis with each stroke. The fingers of my left hand began to explore his crotch, massaging the pubic area, fondling his big balls, tickling the under-crotch down toward his asshole. With my right hand I grasped the base of his cock, stroking the lower shaft in unison with the movements of my mouth. Now he groaned with bliss. I pulled him deep into my throat now, relaxing the muscles and extending my lips and tongue to encompass the entirety of his stiff manhood. The taste of him was delectable, and the size of his pole tested the capacity of my mouth and throat.
"Wait," he cried huskily, with effort. "I want some of that, too." He began to swivel around parallel to the water. His cock popped from my mouth and his left leg swung over my head as he turned onto his hip, his face heading toward my groin. I responded, swinging myself around on my side as well, opposite him. Again I sought his stiff dick with my mouth, and I felt his hand take hold of mine as well and direct it toward his face. My cock was engulfed in warm, slick wetness. I felt a tongue swishing around it lasciviously. Then it dove deeper into the wetness. I felt strong throat muscles gripping its head, then heard faint gagging sounds. Oh well, I thought, the guy is young. He just needs practice. And who am I to deny him?
The boy practiced and practiced, to my great joy. Meanwhile, he began to pump my face, tightening and flexing his hips as he drove his cock into and out of my throat. This won't take long, thought I, poised to receive a scalding load of young cum. I concentrated on holding my mouth and tongue for maximum stimulation pleasure for him as he thrust. Sure enough, within a few moments he abruptly drove deep into my throat and shuddered, at the same time making an "auagh" sound around my dick as he plunged upon it. Then the load hit the back of my throat, almost choking me as I struggled to swallow with that big fire hose still deep in my mouth. Another gush immediately followed, and by the third spurt the semen began to flow toward my open mouth and out and down the side of my face and onto the shaft from which it had come. I lapped up and devoured as much as I could salvage, licking and cleaning the glans and the folds of the foreskin.
Now I rolled more onto my back, and he rolled atop me, supported by elbows and knees, his wet cock waving in front of my nose and his pendulous balls brushing my eyebrows. What a view! For the first time, I could now see something of his muscular, lean butt, and the thin stripe of brown hair that connected his ball-sling to his puckered asshole. He continued to impale his face upon my grateful prick, so I stretched upward to lick and fondle his balls. Occasionally another drop of juice would emerge from the end of his penis, and I would lick it off. I reached up to finger his anus, and felt him shiver again with anticipation.
I gave the guy a pretty good practice session before unloading my second shipment of jizz. But he held in there with me, obviously enjoying the workout as I was. After a while, though, I felt the tingling in my balls that presages an ejaculation. I began to spew. He was pumping so strongly on the full length of me that when I came, the cream shot not only into his mouth, but onto his nose and face as well. He let it drip and kept on sucking until my pleasure was completed. Then he at last pulled back, pushed off of me, and swiveled around to lie beside me, breathing pretty hard, but smiling. There was a glob of my cum on the edge of his sexy mouth, so I leaned over and kissed him, sucking it back to myself.
"So, what's your name?" I asked.
"Matt," he replied, my man of few words.
"Kevin," I answered. Who needs words when you are in love?
"Now that we have that out of the way, what do you really like to do?"
He hesitated just a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to do. I think about it all the time. I think I would like it, but I don't really know." Pause. "I'm kind of a virgin."
"I won't tell anybody. Besides, we can fix it. You mean you've never had it up the ass?"
"I've sucked around some, you know, with friends. But they won't do anything anal. They say it's dirty, and when they take one look at my dick, they're afraid I'll kill them with it or something."
"Not an unrealistic fear, judging from their inexperience and your equipment. But not to worry. I'll take care of you from both sides. I'm very adaptable."
This might not be easy, I thought, his first time and without extra lubricant. I decided to juice things up a bit with a little lovemaking. Besides, I'm a romantic at heart. A very horny romantic. I bent toward him and planted a kiss full on his mouth. He looked slightly surprised, but he responded. We began a heavy session of making out, legs entwined, hands searching and caressing. I tongued deep into his mouth, tasting my own cum appreciatively, and he returned my tonguing with passion. "Man, this is so weird--making out with a guy!" mumbled Matt. But he tongued me even deeper. Then I began to work my way down his neck and chest, teasing at the sexy chest hairs and lingering long over his erect, small nipples. Down the trail of hair I went into and around the neat indentation of navel, back to the crotch. I gave the cock a few passing slurps and was heartened by its enthusiastic response. But I was not to be distracted. I proceeded to the balls and then down the perineum. My partner really liked that. He began groaning again.
When I reached his asshole, Matt was in ecstasy, as well he might be, never having experienced such a thing. The groaning became louder but also somehow reverential. I was slobbering and lathering as best I could with my cum-slimy mouth to prepare for the friction to come. My tongue entered the outer chamber of his rectum. It was firm and tight, a true virgin delight. "Roll over and be a doggy," I commanded. Matt obeyed eagerly.
Now I tongued his wet ass from the other direction as he waggled it into my face. It did not taste like chicken. But I liked it.
"Do you think some hand lotion would help?" asked Matt innocently.
"Anything slimy would help, but my stuff is 'way back at the car. This is what I get for showing up naked and empty-handed."
"Well, I left some hand cream here last week," he said. "Let me get it."
He crawled forward on hands and knees, ass smiling at me, balls swinging. "I'm liking you more and more, Matt," I commented, admiring his bare hindquarters as he crawled. "But your perfect planning is starting to scare me a little."
"Well, the thing is, I was here a week ago with my friend Dave, thinking I was maybe going to get some of his ass. Or give him a piece of mine. But he wimped out on me," said Matt, now creeping backwards toward me. "But anyway, I left the lubes here just in case." And he handed back a tube of fish-oil cream. Hey, it's better than spit.
While this was going on, I of course was getting an eyeful of Matt's firm, primo butt from an optimum perspective. It consisted of fair-skinned, muscularly rounded buttocks with just that trace of hair within the crack from anus to balls. His butthole was magnet; my cock was steel.
I slathered him up with the cream and moistened it with creek water, inserting one, then two fingers to the second knuckle and twisting them around. I gave his young prostate a little massage, and smiled as I saw his dangling cock suddenly flex and drip a big glob. "Ahhh!" Matt responded. Next I lubed up my stiff rod. Then I knee-walked forward and grasped his cheeks, pulling them gently apart. What a cute, puckering, tight little asshole he had! "Just push down a little on your ass as if you were going to fart," I instructed. But don't actually fart, I hoped to myself. Matt did just as instructed with eagerness. As he did, I grabbed the edges of his cheeks beside that provocative hollow of the hip bone, and pressed the bulbous round head of my cock into his open orfice. It popped through the sphincter ring pleasingly. "Uh," grunted Matt. "How're you doing?" I asked.
"I think you just ripped me a new butt hole," he replied slightly shakily, "but I can take it. I want more."
"This can be arranged," I said, and I began to pump gently, on each thrust sliding just a little deeper into that inviting gut. His tight young rectum clenched itself onto my big sirloin, but the inside was soft and welcoming. Soon my neat light pubes were caressing his buttocks, and the entire shaft of my favorite spelunker was probing his cavernous depths. I clasped him tight now, reaching around his slim waist to fondle his crotch from the other side, playing quarterback to his center, and mashed my crotch into his hungry butt.
I started hunching in earnest now. Matt grunted a couple more times, and then his grunts turned into groans. Then moans. His back produced a new layer of sweat, and he started to sway slightly in time with my thrusting. But he was swaying into my thrusts, as if to drive me deeper into his body. That set his balls to swinging, as mine already were. Now they collided into one another agreeably on every stroke, adding another layer of sensuality. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard," he whimpered, along with other endearments having to do with big hard cocks and hot loads of cum. I ground myself into him hard now, fucking away with abandon, savoring the intensity of the sensation throughout my throbbing fuck-pole, driven by reasonless lust. I thought Matt would surely cave in under the onslaught and leave me to finish him off flat on the rock, but he did not. He took everything I had to give him like a man The sensation of impending volcanic eruption began within me. I continued to fuck away deeply and forcefully. Then the cum-juice began to spew forth deep within Matt's bowels. I drove it in as deep as I could reach, sighing and groaning with satisfaction. Our two male voices now united in a duet of absolute pleasure. We both collapsed on the rock side by side, breathing and sweating hard. My dick emerged slimed with shit, semen, and Neutrogena, but it hummed with happiness.
"I have to cool off," Matt panted, and he rolled down into the stream. He sat on the creek bottom and cooled his hot asshole. "That was better than I ever dreamed possible," he murmured wonderingly. I scooted down next to him, the cool water washing up under my armpits and across my firm tits. We sat for a moment, side by side, just enjoying the sensation of the flowing water over our warm bodies. Before long, though, Matt leaned over and began to nibble on my ear. My, he catches on quickly, I thought. He said, "One good turn deserves another, don't you think?" "You can turn me any way you like," I answered. His response was to increase the intensity of his kissing, on my neck and face and eager mouth. His hands began to feel me up underneath the water. They were gentle but authoritative. I could imagine that his family might keep dairy cows as well.
"Scoot back up on the rock," he ordered, and I instantly obeyed, lying back and drawing up both my knees. I spread my legs wide to welcome him as Matt crawled up between my feet. Now he took pity on my overstimulated cock and went straight for my smooth, hairless balls with his mouth, licking and sucking them, taking each by turn all the way into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it like a jawbreaker. Then down the perineum he went, that heavenly highway from bliss to bliss. He kissed my anus wetly, and I felt my rectum yielding to his probing tongue. Without breaking his love connection, he located the hand cream and brought it around under my leg. After satisfying his need to nurse on my love hole, he creamed it thoroughly with the fish cream, anointed his fucking tool liberally, and started to lean in toward my butt. I pulled my knees up and out, my feet rising above Matt's shoulders, which he inserted under my knees. His back now bent as his slim, washboard waist curled in toward me, led by that long cylinder of swollen, darkened meat. The luscious head of his cock touched my hole, and I welcomed it. Matt guided and pushed, and in it slid. He did not stand very much upon ceremony. He just bore down on me and started fucking.
Now I have been fucked before, and fucked by experts, but I will always regard my time spent under the weight of Matt's grinding body as one of my moments of greatest fulfillment. Partly it was the perfect beauty of his marvelous cock and balls and physique, partly his lusty innocence, and partly my own amorous attraction to him. I have retained a nice, tight asshole despite its receptiveness to big dicks and even bigger dildoes over the years, and I could feel every caress of his cock's shapely crown as it passed over my tingling prostate. Matt's arms wrapped around me and his head rested next to mine over my shoulder, satisfying my need to be held by a sexy man as he satisfied my asshole's craving for hot dick. His hair had come out of its band, and it spread across his neck and across my face. His chest, sweating again with his effort and ticklish with hair, plastered itself with pleasing weight against mine. His belly arched and contracted over mine, with my own swelling cock and jouncing testicles in between. I wrapped my legs around his flexing hips. Matt drove as hard and as deep and as rhythmically as his breathless body would allow. He began to make a low "hmmmph" sound at the bottom of each deep thrust. I encouraged him with my own moaning vocalizations, encouraging him to give me that meat, fuck me, deeper, harder, go for it, shoot it in me.
My asshole was humming with warm pleasure when I felt just a little hot twinge deep inside. Then Matt's rhythm changed, his thrusts continuing deep, but beginning to decelerate. He lingered a little longer on each thrust as more of his hot seed sprayed my gut with each clenching of his butt muscles. He sighed a great, deep contented sigh. And gradually, the thrusting ceased altogether, followed by a period of pleasurable grinding motions of his pubic area on my butt while his cock slowly deflated. But He stayed inside me as long as he could, until my rectum involuntarily contracted and slid his cock of perfection out like a useless piece of shit. How ironic.
We lay together for several minutes holding each other tightly, face to face. Then Matt broke the spell. "I still have a field to mow."
"Yeah. I have calls to make."
He disentangled his long, strong body, and waded into the creek, knelt down and rinsed himself. "I wish I could see you again," he said simply, as he stood and shook some of the water from his hair and torso, his sweet sausage and eggs flopping carelessly. I could use a breakfast like that on a regular basis myself. "I'll be driving through here again one month from today," I suggested.
"What a coincidence." Matt grinned. "I'll be needing to mow the field again that very day!"
Then he turned and stepped out of the water on the far bank of the stream. He glanced back just once at me sprawling naked and sated on our rock, and he gave me his winning smile. "Thanks," he said. I smiled in return. Then he pushed through the brush, the branches closing upon that luscious, muscular butt, and I was alone. Were there unique species of birds in these woods, or was Matt actually whistling as he made his way up the trail, adding clothing as he went?
I waded across the creek, disentangled my own clothing, and dressed myself. When I got to my car, I saw Matt's tractor just rounding the horizon toward me, completing his first circle. He waved. "Until next month." I said quietly, as I pulled into the roadway and sped away to my work and my rootless life. "Until next month."