Cupcake Ranch Chapter 7
Farm Boy at Home
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Sam, the farm boy I'd met in a bar in Chicago, lived on a classic midwestern prosperous dairy farm. Flat fields, some with hay, some with cows, a 19th Century farmhouse, white, with two big red barns, and a number of small outbuildings, including a long shed with machinery and vehicles parked side by side. I got there at about 5 pm, Sam was just finishing up the evening milking, the cows were going back out to the pasture.
As noted in a previous story, Sam was gay, nobody knew it but him, and his education in all things gay was from the internet, at least until his cousin introduced us and we had spent most of a night together, two nights before.
"You are staying in the house, but not in my room," he said, "but I have a place out on the northwest 40 and another in the hay barn where we can be alone together if you want to play again."
"Of course, I want to play," I said. "When can we begin?"
"Bring your gear in, meet my folks, I will show you around the homestead, then supper at 6, then we will ride out on the farm on the ATV and I can show you the sights, including this one," he said, rubbing his crotch.
Sam could have been my brother, looks wise, but bulkier, his muscle having resulted from growing up on a dairy farm which involves, as I observed, a lot of lifting heavy things -- hay bales, calves, machinery, containers of milk -- and hauling heavy things, fencing, heavily laden carts full of farm stuff -- and pitching stuff up, like hay, manure, and whatever was on the ground and had to be picked up and put somewhere else.
"My deal with my parents is that I work most of the summer so that the hands can have two weeks of vacation while I fill in for each of them in turn. And, I get some time off, and get to go to college the rest of the year -- but I do spell them on all my vacations so they get some time off then," he explained.
Supper began with the family, Sam, his parents, his two younger sisters, and I, holding hands around the table and saying Grace. His father at the head, mother at the kitchen end, sisters on one side, Sam and I on the other. Sam stroked my palm with his finger, which turned me on. Off and on, over the course of the meal, he put his hand on my leg, or my crotch. The food was great. Sam was excused from after dinner chores so he could show me around.
We took off in the ATV/quad type vehicle. It had all wheel drive, seats for two, and a small dump on the back.
"You got the supplies?" he asked. He had a couple of towels and an old blanket in the dump.
"Sure thing."
We rode all around the place in the twilight, which in Wisconsin, in June, seems to last forever.
"This is the real bull pen," he explained, "we have three bulls, and use what we call natural cover' to what we call freshen' the cows, so they will become pregnant, produce a calf, and then we can milk them for close to a year before they dry up, and we do it all over again. We let a bull freshen 3 cows a day. See that big brown and white guy with his dick almost dragging on the ground? He has been the prime bull for us for about 8 years but he is getting old, less interested, and his sperm has begun to not work, so he is headed for the dog food factory. And that lean one, that is mostly brown, is just old enough and is always horny and always trying to mount the other two bulls. The old guy puts up with it, the middle ones do not."
"And, here we are." We were at a stream, about 30 feet wide where we stopped, but narrower above and below, with a smaller stream feeding into it from the other side, at a right angle. "The two streams coming together have dug out a deeper hole, which is just right to wash up and cool off, and swim a few strokes. Let's go."
We stripped, cocks getting hard, and walked in -- not deep enough to dive -- and began to wrestle and try to dunk each other, which progressed to cock grabbing, and ass grabbing, and that progressed to stopping the wrestling and coming up body to body, a hand on the other's cock, and we began to kiss, standing, the water waist deep. Although his body looked like it might have fat on it, it did not. It was all muscle and, when he flexed, it was hard as a rock. As was his cock. I slipped my cock under his balls, and between his legs, he had his pressed up against my pubes and belly. I sucked on one of his nips, he groaned. "Shit, that feels good, nobody has ever done that for me before." I pinched the other one. He moaned. "I see guys do nip play on the net but I never really thought it was something I would like, but now I will do it when I jerk off. If I can't get someone else to do it for me, that is."
We went up on the bank and laid down on the blanket. "I want to be fucked", he said.
"OK," I replied, "I've got the goodies right here. But let's take it slow, if it is your first rodeo it can either turn you on so much that you end up craving it, like cocaine, or, you won't ever want to try it again. Now, some guys like to rim, most guys like to be rimmed, and I only want to rim a guy if he is really clean. You ever douche?"
"No, but I have seen it done on the net."
"Well, I just so happen to have a little bulb douche kit in my supplies, you fill it up, lube the tip, stick it up your ass, and squeeze the bulb. Let it sit a minute and shit it out. Maybe two or three times, until what comes out is just clear water. You can do it yourself, but it might be more of a turn on to do it to each other. It comes with two tips, one for anal, either sex, one for cunts, which is much bigger, and that is the one that feels the best in my ass."
So, we helped each other clean out, and then went back in the stream to wash up. We then got back up on the blanket and rimmed each other in 69 position. His ass crack was clean as a whistle, and covered with fine short blonde hair. Mine was shaved, since although I am blonde, my ass and pubic hair and eyebrows, for that matter, are a light brown.
"Fuck, that feels so good," he said, as he came up for air.
"Likewise, you are a natural born ass licker," I replied.
"Fuck me," he said, "I think I am ready. I am certainly willing. I have wanted this ever since I saw it being done on the net."
"Sure," I said. "On all fours to start, it might be easier to work my big cock in that way." And, we did, he got on all fours on the blanket, I put on a condom and lubed myself up, and then lubed my fingers and put them in, one at a time, easy, he moaned, until I had 3 in, up to the 2nd knuckle.
"What you got in there?" he asked.
"Three fingers, is it OK? I am ready to fuck you if you are."
"Ready."
I put it in, slowly, and, as I have noted, since my cockhead is bigger around than the shaft, once that passed the second ring, the rest just slipped in.
"OH," he said. "Just hold it there."
I reached around, his cock was hard and dripping pre-cum. I held it there, and then started to move slowly.
"Give it to me," he said, "harder, I can take it harder, I want it so much, fill me up, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, jerk my cock for me if you can."
I did, and he came all over my hand and the blanket. My turn, I said, turn over, and let me fuck you that way. He did, I did, and seeing his cum, and his still hard dick, I came in the condom, pulled out, and emptied the condom on his cock, and he used it to lube himself, began to jerk off, and said, "Put some fingers in my ass, I think I can cum again if you do."
I did, and he did. We went back in the stream, cleaned up, and then to bed. In the morning I watched him help with the milking, quite an operation if you had never seen 300 cows get milked in an hour's time, but that is for another story.
A big farm breakfast, hands around the table again, Grace, a little finger wiggling on my palm, and it was off to South Dakota.
"Will you stop here on your way back East?" asked Sam.
"I hope so," I replied. And off I went.