Used to be I was a skinny little shit when I lived in town as a teenager. Dad owned a small engines repair shop in Lennville, population all of seven hundred. When I was young, I didn't know what I wanted or who I was. I wasn't supposed to want to be a farmer. Hell! Where's the future in that? But farming ends up being just where I belong. Somehow, at 27 years of age, I found myself tending animals, working fields, cutting wood, getting all sweaty and muscular and loving it. Working on a farm sure did wonders for my physique. Now I've got a strong body and thick farmer forearms covered with my own curly brown body hair.
Being a gay farmer isn't all that easy. Country folk tend to be a bit cagey about that kind of thing. But I'm telling you, if I was sweating over my work, I sure was sweating just as much after my fellow farmers. Farmers tend to help each other out so I get to meet and see quite a few and, well, there are some mighty handsome farmers around these parts. Even the 50 year old widower down the road. Hell, he showed me a thing or two about the farming life.
He dropped by one day all duded up in his suit, on his way to some sort of meeting, or so I thought. He found me in the barn stacking square bales. He's talking to me while I'm stacking, next thing I know he's right next to me, stripped down to his boxers, hauling hay bales. That's a farmer for you, always ready to lend a helping hand, no matter what. He didn't want to dirty his nice clothes, you see, so he just took them off. He's a good looking man, with them deep creases at the edges of his eyes and around his mouth from his skin tanning out in the fields year after year and from lots of laughing and smiling. Yep, he's always got a ready smile for you or a joke. He doesn't have any of that loose skin like some older men get. So I guess the wrinkles and tough skin just make him look more rugged than anything else. Heck, he doesn't look fifty at all, more like, well, at least ten years younger.
His body's something else, too! A lifetime of hard work, good food and good genes sure did him some good. I couldn't help but notice his tree-trunk legs coming out of his thin cotton shorts, or his tight, furry belly and thick smooth pecs. And, of course, those farmer arms with the thick, rough fingers. What really got me going that day when he helped with the bales, was what was moving around in his shorts as he walked back and forth, lugging bale after bale from the pile at one end of the hay loft over to the stack on the other. It looked to be a nice piece of meat swaying around in there. I had me a hard time stacking hay what with a sudden boner poking in my pants. I wear jeans and boxers on the farm because I like to feel my dick and balls moving in my pants when I'm working outside. I've got a partial erection practically all day long, usually. So this time my cock was down my pant leg and pushing up as I got harder, with this half-naked hunk of a man grunting and working his sexy muscles right next to me, his big dick flopping around under the thin cotton of his boxers.
I guess he kinda noticed, because he smiled and said "Aimin' on forkin' hay bales with that thing?"
I blushed, but I just couldn't let it go. I swear my mouth is gonna get me in more trouble than I can handle one of these days. So I up and answered, "Better be careful, I might fork me a farmer by accident."
I couldn't believe I'd said that. The man goes to church every Sunday, regular. But he just grinned and kept tossing that hay, muscles of a thirty-year-old working under his tanned skin. "T'ain't good t'get distracted when you're workin', son," he smiled.
I kept quiet after that, and we kept working until it started to get dark.
"Weren't you off somewhere in your fancy suit?" I finally asked, bats flitting in and out of the open barn door as twilight started to settle in.
"Nope," he said, lugging some of the last bales over from the other side of the barn, giving me an eyeful of his broad back muscles bunching and writhing from the weight, his thin boxers glued with sweat to his bubble butt. The cotton was so thin and wet I could see the hair on his ass through the material. "I was on my way back home from a meeting and decided to drop by and see if that bailer you borrowed from the Ashley's was working good 'cause I was thinking of trying it out next cut," he answered, grunting as he heaved the bail up onto the neatly stacked pile.
Fair enough, I thought. Happens all the time. It explained why he didn't seem in a hurry to leave.
We got the last of the bales in place, and he still stuck around. Lucky for him it was late July and the nights were warm because he didn't seem to be in a hurry to put his clothes back on which, on the one hand I didn't mind since he's such an eyeful but on the other hand was awkward because I had to keep myself from staring. I did take the time to stop and explain things to him a lot about how I did things, and he just smiled and looked right at me in the eyes, totally attentive. I mean, most of what I was saying must have been completely familiar to him; I was just finding excuses to look.
The sun had set and the animals had to be looked after. Well, that farmer, he just stayed and helped me. He kept looking over my animals and saying how fine they looked. He helped me check the water troughs for the cows and bring in the goats and feed the chickens and rub down old Steve, my aging stallion. Then we locked up and all that stuff. He even helped me sweep the barn when it was all done, still just in his shorts. I thought it was a bit odd - he always seemed like the proper kind - but I didn't mind because he looked so good in the buff like that.
"Can't let you go without a thanks," I said to him. "If you don't have to go take care of your own animals right away, come to the house. How 'bout some food and beer?" I asked. Well, sure enough he smiled a bit bashful-like.
"Yep, that sounds good. Tom and Amin can take care of thing," he said. Tom and Amin were two of his farm hands. His farm's much bigger than mine and he often has a couple of men working for him. He followed me with his clothes bunched in one of his big hands, still just in his shorts and shoes. At the door he brushed off some of the hay that was in the hair on his head and on his belly, chaff sticking to the sweaty skin of his smooth chest and shoulders and in the hair on his arms and legs, before coming in. I held the door open for him as he did this, giving me a comfortable moment to take in the beauty of his body, ignoring the mosquitoes making a break for the bright lights in the kitchen.
In the kitchen, he sat at the table facing me as I started pulling out some stuff to make some grub.
"You got a real nice farm," he said.
I said thanks and started whipping up some eggs for an omelet.
"'mazin', really, doin' all this stuff on your own. That's what family's for," he said.
I got a bit nervous when he started talking about family. I know I'm not a family man. I've never had a hankering to be with the ladies. Not since I was twelve and my brother taught me how to suck cock. I didn't say much after he said that, just kept mixing, maybe a bit too vigorously. But he kept talking anyway, which I thought was kinda cruel since, I thought, he didn't know how much I wanted to have him, his big beefy body sitting right behind me at my kitchen table, practically naked.
"I was married 27 years when Emmy died," he was saying. "She gave me three fine sons and two healthy daughters. Come in handy on a farm, kids do. Emmy an' me, we was the best of friends. And it ain't never got in the way of my real hankerings."
I kinda stopped whipping the eggs when he said that last bit. He kept talking, though. I had my back turned to him, and I thought I could feel his eyes burning into me.
"Yep, us farmers," he was saying, "we see it all. Animals, you know. Simple creatures, but they sure know what they want. Ever seen bull calves together? Buttin' heads one minute, then they're tryin' to hump each other the next."
I turned around to look at him then. I was going to apologize for what I'd said in the barn about forking him, thinking he was trying to get me to tell him something about myself. Nothing came out of my mouth when I laid eyes on him though. There he was, sitting in the kitchen chair, sorta leaning forward, still just in his shorts, smiling at me. He had one hand on his thigh, drumming his fingers. And coming out the leg of his shorts, just under where his fingers were drumming on his thick hairy thigh, was the sweetest looking snake of an uncut cock I ever laid eyes on.
So, now I'm really out to lunch. I just stood there and started whipping the eggs again, staring at that cock getting longer and thicker and sorta lifting up, pulling his short leg up with it. So he stood up without another word, shucked off his thin damp shorts with one quick motion which set his hardening cock bouncing and swaying and he walked right up to me.
"I know you been lookin' at me. And I like it. I like you, too." He took the bowl and the mixing fork out of my hands and put them on the counter. "You're a good farmer. I seen you out there, working in the fields with no shirt on sometimes, in the sun." He put his hands on my chest, rubbing my muscles through my shirt and it sure felt good. I could feel his cock through my jeans, poking between my legs. I could feel the heat coming from it through the denim. "You are a fine man. Hard workin', good looking, honest as the day is long," he rumbled quietly to me.
When his lips touched mine, his moustache brushing against my upper lip, a shudder ran all the way from the soles of my feet to the top of my head and back down again. Yep, I'd been hot for the man ever since I bought this farm. Then again, I've been hot for lots of these farmers since I bought the farm, and before then, too. His fingers had found my nipples through the worn fabric of the white button-down shirt I always wear when I'm haying. His tongue licked my lips open and mine met his, sucking him into my mouth, the taste of sweat still on his skin. My arms went around him, feeling the muscles in his broad back, the skin sticky with dried sweat and hay dust, his thick chest pressing into mine. I could feel his hands on my belt, my pants coming open, and he dropped to his knees in front of me.
"I been wantin' to get forked by this for ages," he mumbled up at me, grinning. And then his mouth was on my cock. Jeezus! He pretty much gulped it all the way down in one greedy go! I almost creamed myself right there when he did that, his one hand yanking on my bull balls, the fingers of the other hand reaching up behind me to wriggle between my sweaty ass cheeks to find my rose bud. He was some cock sucker, all right. I'd never had a blow job like that. He just kept taking the whole length of me in one go, back and forth, his tongue licking the underside of my shaft every time he pulled away. And the stamina! Every time I was about to blow, he'd know, and just slow down, pull down on my balls until I calmed down, then off he'd go again. I started wondering if he practiced on his horses! He'd been going at me for at least a half hour if not 40 minutes, making me almost crest and then doing something to calm me down to keep me from cumming. It felt like my dick was shorting out from all the attention he'd already given it with his mouth. You know that feeling? The one you get when you've been horny for so long that you don't even know if you can cum at all. Then he just pulled off my cock with a popping sound, chuckled and grabbed the damp dishcloth off the counter. He leaned over in front of me, letting me watch him wipe his ass hole.
"Just makin' sure it's nice and clean for you. I want you to lick my ass and then shove that horse cock up my chute, boy." I always thought he had a nice voice, a deep and warm rumble in his broad chest. Hearing it give me that command just made my cock jump and get impossibly harder.
Anyway, I didn't need to be told twice. I kneeled down and sniffed at his ass hole like a dog in heat. What a great ass! Firm and well shaped with sparse salt-and-pepper hair on it. I gave it a smack to check. He grunted, so I smacked his ass again, harder. Then I went to town on his hole. Just the smell of him got me so excited. Like I said, I hadn't been too lucky with the local farmers in getting them in bed up until then. I was too scared to even try, to tell the truth. Farmers tend to be a conservative bunch. Not this man though, to my continued surprise and pleasure. I licked his ass hole like it was candy, then shoved my tongue into his rose bud. I nearly shot myself again just at the taste of his soft insides. I couldn't believe that I was licking this man's ass, and that he wanted me to fuck him. I smacked his ass a few times again for good measure. He sure seemed to like that. I got a finger up his hole, then another, pumping them in and out to get him ready for me. I'm no little guy. I used to be skinny, but my cock never was. I remember looking at myself in the mirror as a teenager, wondering how come I was so small everywhere else except for there. Not any more, though. I'd be about 5'11" and 195lbs of farmer muscle.
I reached for the butter on the table. I didn't want to leave and get the KY out of my night stand (got me a dildo in there) and I didn't want to leave for fear that he'd scarper. So I greased him up with butter made from the cream of my own cows, then I greased up my cock. It was so hot and hard, I didn't know if I would be able to stick it in without it going off right away.
"Just squeeze the tip a bit to get it to calm down some," he said, reading my mind. "I want me a good fuckin' boy." I did like he said, and my cock trigger eased off so I could stick it up his butt chute. I started in slow, because I know how much it hurts me when some dude just shoves it in. It just so happened that my sexy old farmer was more than ready. He just back-rams into me, taking the whole length and thickness of me in one go. I stopped, because that really almost made me shoot. He didn't move for a bit after that, but I could feel him flexing his ass muscles around my cock in there. I was running my hands over his back and ass, smacking them buns once in a while. The butter on my hand made for good slapping sounds. I just love the feel of my palm when it's hot from smacking some sexy guy's ass.
I reached under my old farmer and grabbed hold of his cock. Shit, he was hung like a bull! I don't know if it's the farmer genes or what. Oh yeah, he was a big guy, too, about 6'4 and 220 lbs. Hell, when I'm saying he had a thick chest and big legs, I'm not kidding! I felt like I was fucking John Bunyan. So there I was, pumping his ass, and he kept making these noises. He was turning out to be a perfect fuck. I can't stand guys that make no sounds. I can't even tell if they've cum without seeing the jizz shoot out of them. Not this guy. He was grunting and moaning, shoving his ass back onto my dick as I worked it into him from every which angle I could stretch his hole. He was slamming his fist on the kitchen table, fucking yelling out like a bull. I pulled out of him, spun him around and lifted all 220 hot pounds of him onto the kitchen table, spreading his legs out and pushing myself back in before you could say 'howdy-do'. His legs went over my shoulders and I was pumping into him , balls slapping against his ass. He pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around my neck to plant a wet kiss on my lips, shoving in his tongue, then he fell back onto the table (which groaned under his weight, let me tell you. In fact, it hasn't been the same since), but not without grabbing my shirt and ripping it right off my back with one quick yank. I kept plowing into him, the burning sensation from where the material of my shirt rubbed against my skin as it ripped adding to the good feelings in my body. He slapped his hands on my naked chest, grabbing at the thick dark hair I've got there, found my nipples buried in my thatch and yanked on them, twisting my brown nubs like they were the dials of a radio, then he'd slap his hand on my chest again. He nearly knocked me right out of him a couple of times, but his big legs held me firmly in place.
As I fucked him, I ran my hands up and down his muscular, hairy legs. I love how his body hair's thick up to the top of his belly, then just stops in a little trail that reaches up between his abs and just makes it to the bottom of his chest. Not like me. I've got barely any hair on my legs and ass compared to my hole torso, from pubes to collar-bone, which is covered in thick dark hair. Anyway, after having a whale of a time fucking him for a while with his legs in the air, I pushed his legs aside and leaned over him, still pistoning my cock into him, table creaking dangerously under us. I needed to taste his tongue again. We kissed like that, him grunting and moaning into my mouth as our tongues writhed around each other. He bit my shoulder, and the pain was so blissful that it shot down to my balls and that's when I lost it.
"Shoot it on me," he was panting. "Shoot it on my chest."
So I pulled out and let fly onto his chest, hitting him under the chin. Eight good volleys until the rest dribbled out. I fell on top of him, smelling the mix of cum, crotch, sweat and hay on him. He hugged me close, stroking my back.
"Funny, ain't it, how we get all tired like this after cummin'. See, I ain't cum yet, so I'm still full of energy." He was stroking the side of my chest, and reached between us to tenderly fondle my nipple.
Yep, I could feel him under me, his cock huge and hard and steaming hot. It never went soft the whole time we fucked. He rolled out from under me, then lifted me off the table into his arms, carrying me like a baby. He obviously already knew where the bedroom was, because he beelined for it.
After putting me on the bed, he disappeared into the bathroom and I could hear the water running. I stretched on the bed, feeling on top of the world. Farming and fucking a hot farmer. What else could I possibly want? When he came out of the bathroom, all naked and his dick stiff, I knew what else I wanted. Which worked out just fine because it was obviously what he wanted, too. He'd gone into the bathroom not to wash up, because he was still covered in chaff and hay and cum that was starting to dry on his chest. He'd brought back a warm face cloth to clean my limp cock. And then he was working on me with his mouth again. It didn't take long for my cock to wake up, the way he was sucking it and licking my balls. Then the warm face cloth went down to my ass, cleaning away all the dirt and bits of hay that had gotten in there during the day. Then it was replaced by his warm tongue. I reached down and touched him on the head.
"Come up," I said when he looked at me. So, tongue still licking my ass hole, he moved his body up onto the bed until I had that long, thick cock staring me right in the face. The moan that came out of me when I tasted that purple head was about at least six months of hard work in the field with no sex. I nibbled that soft foreskin, kissed the purple, glistening head poking out, tasting that oiliness that covers it. I licked and sucked and try as I might, I just couldn't get all that fat, long cock into my mouth. I wasn't as talented as he was, but at least I had stamina to match his. I was awake again and hot for him. I was licking, sucking, nibbling every part of his crotch I could reach, even the little bit between the cock shaft and the leg, where the smell is the strongest. I think he was liking it from the noises he was making, although it might have been from eating my ass.
He kept changing what he was doing. One minute he was licking my pucker with the flat of his tongue, the next he was just tickling it with the tip. Next, his whole face was in there, licking and shoving his tongue up my hole. Then he'd be just pumping his tongue in and out. It was driving me wild. The more he licked my ass, the more energetically I sucked his big cock, and the harder I sucked, the more savage was his ass eating.
We were both growling and moaning. If I was still living in town, the neighbors would have called the cops because of the noise. I reached over and pulled the bedside table drawer right out, bringing it onto the bed, blindly feeling for the KY. I found it, pushed the drawer off the mattress with a crash, and handed the tube to him. He grinned, all those lines of experience on his face radiating like the rays of a sun. So he shoved some KY up my ass, fingering my hole really slow with his thick, rough finger.
"Gotta work it good. Got me a big piece to put in there," he mumbled, his mouth a bit slack as he stared at what he was doing to my rose bud. I bit my lip and he saw me doing that. I looked him right in the eyes then. He smiled even more, staring right back. This man was too perfect. No awkwardness. He knew what he wanted and didn't hide it. I felt another big finger go into me. He squirted some more KY. We were both quiet now. I was aware of my breathing and the feeling of his callused fingers loosening my tender hole to make room for his huge cock. My ass hole felt good and stretched. Then in came another finger. Like I said, he's a big man, and his hands and fingers are proportionate. Actually, his fingers are sorta short and fat. So I had three fingers in me. I sucked on my lower lip, holding my feet, totally open to him and whatever he wanted to do to me. I knew fisting was out for the moment.
First, I'd never been fisted. Second, I could tell this was one of those wild fucks where all he wanted was his dick in me, and he was barely keeping himself in check already. He bit and tongued my calf muscle as he worked his fingers in my hole. With his other hand, he squeezed more KY on that monster cock of his. I'd never taken one that big before, but the dildo that had fallen out of my bedside table drawer and was probably lying on the floor somewhere, well, it's big as that. So I was really hot to get me a live cock that size up my ass. It didn't take long that I felt the blunt head of his cock pushing against my hole.
He stared right in my eyes, his face still a little slack as he concentrated on getting his cock in me. I'm not as experienced as he is, so my ass needed a little coaxing to take all of him. He sorta moved in and out of me, pushing in a little more every time. I was already grabbing at the bed clothes, feeling that rush of heat from my ass hole shooting up into all the rest of my body as he pierced my relaxed sphincter. In and out a little at a time, I could feel the length of him reaching deeper and deeper into me. When he was all the way in, he fell on top of me, covering my mouth with his.
"Yeah, oh, son," he kept groaning between deep kisses. "Shit, you feel so good. So damn hot."
I had my feet in my hands, pulling my legs as far apart as possible so that every inch of his monster cock was lodged right inside me with every shove of his hips. Fuck, I'm getting horny just thinking about it. 'Cause then he got up on his knees, grabbed my cock at the base and leaned over, taking half of it in his mouth as he started fucking me. His other big hand was under my ass, lifting it up in the air. I'd never had that happen to me, getting sucked by the guy who's fucking me. I started yelling "I'm comin', I'm comin!" he just groaned, sucking and fucking harder, and I shot into his mouth, him sucking all the juice out of me as I pumped it down his gullet, making appreciative sounds as he swallowed my cream, making me squirm as he kept sucking my sensitive cock head.
And he kept on fucking. I was a rag, still hot for his cock up my ass but drained by the second totally explosive unloading of my balls that night. He pushed me onto my side and went to town on my ass, his balls slapping against me, his hands pinching my nipples, combing my chest hairs, fondling my cock, feeling my ass. I could smell him, his sweat and the cum I'd shot on his chest. He was fucking me so hard now I could feel my own cock start to swell again with that pleasurable achiness when you've used it too much in a short period of time. It was like I could feel his cock inside mine every time he hit my prostate. He was totally concentrated on his fucking now. He pushed me onto my stomach and was leaning his hands on my shoulders. My ass was rising to meet his hard thrusting. He was making little grunting noises every time he slammed into me and I was squeezing, squeezing my ass to make his cock feel good. The most amazing feeling is the rush when you feel the other guy's cock swell up even bigger inside you just before he comes.
"Fill 'er up, man," I was yelling. "Cream my insides, c'mon."
He was making such a racket as he was getting closer to coming, breathing hard and yelling and cussing and thrusting so fast his balls were barely off my ass before he slammed into me again. And then, with a groan and a yell that seemed to come all the way from his very balls, he thrust one last hard time and stayed there, the heat of his hot cum rushing into my hole. He started fucking me slower as he kept squirting, sorta twitching when he was pushing in at the sensitivity of his cockhead after he'd come. I started jacking my aching cock. I couldn't keep my hands off it. And bam! For the third time, I shot. Not much, mind you, but intense, with his cock moving slow in me, his panting and hot breath on me as he milked the last of his orgasm from his dick in my ass, my ass spasming around his cock as my third orgasm rose and receded.
He was right. Family's a good thing to have on a farm. Since then we joined our farming businesses and work together. That was four years ago. We keep the two houses because his kids don't know, but he sleeps over lots. I've never done the marathon cuming I did on that first night, though. The set up isn't perfect because I love the crotchety old bugger and want to have an open life with him, but, well, it's not such a big deal, I guess. And, well, he knows of other farmers, and they come over sometimes and sometimes there's a whole bunch of us in my bedroom or in my barn, forking each other. I tell you, there's nothing like being a farmer.
**** (Author's note: Hope you enjoyed this. I'd like to get your comments and constructive criticism about this piece. I'm relatively new at showing my work and at writing erotic fiction, so feedback is always welcome. Please e-mail me at ulrich1_ca@yahoo.com )