Bobby was driving down Highway 31 on the old John Deere, the 4020 that his great grandfather had bought in the mid nineteen sixties and his grandfather still used on his farm. He was taking the bush hog to a local mechanic all the farmers used, who worked out of his barn. The bush hog was old and needed repair. Bobby's grandfather was busy with cultivating his soybeans and asked Bobby to take the bush hog for him. Bobby had left early to have time to make the thirty minute drive for Tom, the mechanic, said to be there first thing in the morning for it'd take a while to tear it down and replace the worn bearings, the u-joints of the PTO shaft and to cut out the rusted section of the body and weld in a new piece. It was warm but not hot as Bobby drove to Tom's, enjoying the feel of the early morning air against his body, the old tractor running less than 20 mph. He was dressed as he usually did when helping his grandfather on his farm. The old work boots, the light yellow faded and scuffed, stains from the red clay permanently marking the lower portion of each, the old tight jeans, worn soft and slightly frayed at the leg cuffs, the right knee ripped open and one small rip high on the inside thigh, high enough to see the white of his boxers, one of his t-shirts from some rock concert he had gone to three years ago when he first got his driver's license, the image cracked, the shirt now soft with use and each side cut out of it revealing Bobby's torso and arms, and his cap, dirty and faded from constant use, pulled down low over his eyes protecting them from the bright early morning sun that would quickly heat up the air.
Bobby arrived at Tom's and pulled around his house to the barn finding Tom already inside working on a combine. When Tom walked out Bobby watched him amble out, his tall lean frame moving gracefully, wiping his greasy hands on an old t-shirt he used as a rag. Bobby had eagerly agreed to bring the bush hog over, for there was something about Tom that made him feel weird, made his heart race in his chest and he knew it was thoughts he shouldn't have, not here in this rural place, for they were thoughts that could get you ostracized, or worse, beaten up. But Tom seemed different than the others. Bobby knew he was only five years older and had lived in the area all his life. He grew up on a farm but didn't want to farm himself, preferring to work on the equipment instead. After a few years in the community college nearby he had rented the old Harrelson place and set up shop. The local farmers knew he was good, having let him make repairs on their equipment since he was sixteen and could drive out to their fields to do them on site, so it didn't take him long to get the business he needed.
Bobby climbed down and met Tom half way, looking up, seeing his boyish features, the thin scruffy mustache and beard that only grew on his chin, the natural dark skin and dark brown hair that seemed to always need cutting, sticking out around his cap and a thick curl of it hanging down over his forehead. Tom had hazel eyes, bright cheerful friendly eyes, and Bobby struggled not to stare into them too long. Tom was wearing an old shirt unbuttoned at the top and the sleeves torn off and tight jeans, stained with grease and worn nearly through in several places the blue denim faded to white. Bobby figured Tom was six feet two or three, having seen him standing next to others he knew and he was always taller. Bobby, being only five seven, had to look up to Tom.
"Your grandfather told me to tear it down and put it back right, so I hope you're prepared to be here a while."
"Got all day."
Tom smiled and nodded, then looked over at the bush hog. He saw how the body was badly rusted through at one corner and rust covering most of its surface. He knew it had been well used.
"Bring it around to the back side and pull in behind the combine. Well leave it on the tractor for now."
"Okay" and Bobby got back on the tractor and pulled around and into the barn. The interior was dark since there was no overhead light, Tom utilizing shop lights wherever he was working. The work bench he had built along one wall was covered in tools, neatly arranged by type. On the wall hung belts, chains, and more tools and sitting on the floor was a welder, air compressor and other equipment Tom used in his work. The floor of the barn in the middle was dirt, powdery dry brown soil.
Bobby sat in one of the lawn chairs Tom kept in the barn while Tom went to work. He retrieved tools and helped when Tom needed it, otherwise he just sat and watched, talking with Tom about his grandfather's farm, his classes at the community college and some of the local news, but mostly he just sat quietly, watching. He watched how Tom moved, watched how his shirt rode up when he scooted out from under the bush hog and his smooth lean stomach came into view, how when Tom raised his arms he could see the sparse thin hair that grew there, and his arms that appeared to have no hair on them, the skin smooth, stretched tight over his muscles, showing the strength Tom had in his arms, and when Tom was lying on his back working on the underside of the bush hog he saw the bulge in his jeans, the way he could tell his cock was lying to the left, the denim worn soft and faded over it. Bobby tried not to stare, but he couldn't stop himself and time and time again Tom caught him, his eyes looking, lost in his thoughts.
Tom loved to work on things, take them apart, see how they functioned, repair the damage, or reset the parts, so everything worked as it should. He had taken mechanic classes at the community college, although he seemed to know more than the instructor at times. His father encouraged him to do what he wanted, and when he said he wanted to be a mechanic his father had bought him his first tools. When he finished his courses and officially advertised his services it wasn't long before he kept his father's barn occupied with other farmer's equipment till his father said he had to get his own place and helped him with the rent for the Harrelson place where he even rented the house, allowing him to live on his own.
Tom was considered the most eligible bachelor, twenty four, tall, and good looking, having his own business, it was surprising to many he wasn't married already, but what they didn't understand, what Tom couldn't tell them, was he wasn't interested. It wasn't settling down that didn't interest him, it was the opposite sex. He had known since he was ten he was different than the other boys, and he had struggled with these feelings, these desires all through school and when he had turned sixteen, having found out some things on the internet, he had sneaked off to a rest stop out on Highway 161 and sat in a stall, the door locked and listened to other men have sex. He had sat frozen in fear, glued in place by desire, listening to the sounds of men sucking cock and to the groans and moans of men getting fucked. When he was eighteen, a couple of weeks away from graduation he drove all the way down to Mobile and hung outside a gay bar, watching the men come and go until he let one guy, not much older than himself, pick him up. The guy was slightly drunk and the sex rough and fast, leaving Tom confused and unfulfilled. After graduation he began to drive up to Montgomery on some Saturday's and he finally met one, then another young man who showed him how good sex could be, how enjoyable, and he found he also enjoyed the camaraderie, their times just hanging out together, going out to eat, seeing a movie or just hanging out in one of the small bars in town. Tom thought about moving into one of the cities, but he enjoyed his life in the countryside, couldn't think of living anywhere else, so he stayed.
Tom worked on the bush hog, talking with Bobby at times, but when he was in the middle of something tedious he tended to block out everything around him. But whenever he got up to get a tool or to shift position he saw how Bobby was looking at him, the way he kept catching him staring, a couple of times he swore Bobby was looking at his crotch and it made his cock swell some to consider it. He knew Bobby all his life and also knew Bobby was considered a loner, quiet, someone who kept to himself and Tom began to wonder if there was a reason for this image. Bobby was attractive, his body muscular, having played baseball in high school. Tom couldn't help but notice the way his cut open t-shirt revealed his body, the light tanned skin, the muscular arms with their thick under arm hair and the light dusting of hair down his forearms. When Bobby had bent over to pick up a tool he had noticed, when the shirt hung loose in front of him, the tight lean stomach and the fine line of hair around his navel that ran down into his jeans. Tom felt a sexual attraction he was afraid to consider, but it excited him like he hadn't been in a while, having been so busy with work he hadn't had time to get away to Montgomery, Birmingham or Mobile. He wondered if he was imaging it all, being so horny and all, but each time he caught the look in Bobby's eyes he had to wonder.
Tom had taken most of the mechanical components apart and had them spread out on a tarp on the ground. He was working on the body of the bush hog trying to get bracket off, struggling with one of the bolts. It was rusted and locked up. No amount of lubricate would get it loose. He looked over at Bobby and realized his was probably stronger in the upper body.
"Come see if you can break this bolt loose. I can't get the damn thing to break."
Bobby hopped up and took the large wrench and positioned it on the bolt and got in a position he could throw his weight to hit and began to pull against it. It didn't turn.
"Damn, I knew it was rusted bad, but this is ridiculous. Can you cut it off?"
"If I have to, but I'd rather not risk damaging anything else. Let's try together. Put the wrench on it" and Tom came up behind Bobby, leaned his tall frame over him and took a hold of a section of the wrench next to Bobby's hands. As they prepared to pull Tom couldn't help it, couldn't help but lean down close and smell the masculine scent, his clean hair around his cap, and he breathed in deeply, leaned down till he was against Bobby's back, feeling Bobby's body against his own and he told himself it so he could get better purchase on the wrench. They pulled together and Tom could feel the muscular body beneath him, the way it shifted, struggled against the bolt, pressed back against him, making his heart beat faster and his skin tingle with the contact.
Bobby felt Tom against him and he struggled to stay focused on the task at hand, to pull against the wrench. He felt how Tom's tall frame seemed to envelope his body, to hug up against him, he felt the way Tom's crotch was pressed up against his ass and he just knew he could feel Tom's cock. Tom's arms rubbed against his own, the smooth skin, smeared with grease and dirt pressed hotly against him. Tom's breath came in short hot blast against his neck warming his skin and Bobby wanted Tom to do more, to lean down and press his lips against his skin, he wanted his arms to wrap around him, the hands on the wrench to let go and take him, to touch him, and he pushed back against Tom tighter, moved against him as much as he dare, feeling his heart race, his temperature soar.
Bobby was so lost to his thoughts he didn't feel the bolt turn, a little at first, just barely move, then suddenly it broke free and Tom and he fell back, Bobby on top of Tom, knocking the breath out of him and he instinctively grabbed Bobby by the waist to lift him up. Bobby felt the hands, firmly grasp his sides, dig into the flesh and he rolled off Tom.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just caught me by surprise and got the wind knocked out of me" Tom replied, then he smiled and looked at Bobby lying on the ground, his shirt rode up to reveal his stomach, pulled over to reveal one nipple, his skin covered in dirt, his sides smeared with grease where Tom lifted him up.
"I guess we got it loose" Tom stated as he diverted his eyes back to the bush hog.
Tom worked tirelessly the rest of the morning, cutting out the rusted section and welding in a new piece, then began the process of putting it all back together. By lunch they stopped and Tom went up to his house and prepared them sandwiches brining it out to his screen porch where the two of them, all dirty and smeared with grease, sat and ate. Tom would glance over at Bobby, looking at him in the face, his bright blue eyes, the dark brown stubble showing around his chin, the long sideburns, and he noticed Bobby's hands, his fingers thick, his hands large and masculine, unlike his own that had long thin fingers, ideal for some of his work. He looked at the bare skin of Bobby's knee, the fine dark hair covering it where it was exposed through the hole, and he looked over at the dirty white fabric of the boxers exposed up near his Bobby's crotch through the small hole located there. He wanted to reach out and touch him there.
After lunch they returned to the barn and Bobby found it was getting hot inside, even though the interior was dark and shaded, for the hot humid air blew in with the slight breeze of the afternoon pushing out the cooler air. Tom went back to work and got Bobby to help him with more of the reassembly, getting him to spray primer on the body and then repaint it using a construction yellow in lieu of the original green color. They worked quietly, the heat seeming to sap their strength, sweat beginning to cover them. It didn't take Tom long to reassembly the bush hog and when he was finished Bobby was ready to do the final painting. As Bobby painted Tom put away his tools and cleaned up. Tom was at his work bench when Bobby came up behind him and held out the paint he hadn't used. Tom took it and set it back on the lower shelf and when he reached for the eye goggles one his fingers touched Bobby's and he looked up at Bobby, saw his look, his eyes looking at him questioningly, imploring him to do something and Tom took the goggles with one hand and held Bobby's hand in his other one.
"You have the most masculine hands I've ever seen" he whispered as he looked at Bobby's hand, running his finger over it, feeling the callused palm and the lines that crisscrossed it. When he looked up Bobby was looking at him intently, not moving.
"You don't need to be back to your grandfather's right away, do you?"
"No" Bobby whispered, "I've got all day."
Tom leaned over, his face moving toward Bobby's till he was a couple of inches away and he hesitated, just for a moment and Bobby closed the distance, pressing his lips to Tom's, knocking their caps off. The tension, the circling of each other most of day, all came crashing down as they held their bodies tight against each other, arms wrapped tight around the other. Tom pushed Bobby back and grabbed at his t-shirt, tugged it over his head and tossed it on the ground. He pulled his own off, not bothering with the buttons, just pulling it over his head and when he hugged Bobby to him they could feel the heat of their bodies come together, the sweat, the dirt, even the smear of grease rubbed on each other's skin as they kissed, as Tom pulled back and ran his lips over Bobby's rough stubble covered chin, around to his ear tonguing it, giving it a tug with his teeth. Tom ran his hands down and with one he held Bobby's ass as the other slide down the front of his jeans, underneath the boxer's waistband and down to his cock, feeling it get erect, harden up. Tom unfastened Bobby's jeans and as he dropped to his knees he tugged them down with his boxers, stripping him, revealing the hard muscular body. Tom grabbed Bobby's growing erection, held it up and soon had it buried in his mouth, sucking, licking, moving his lips up and down the shaft. Bobby stood in the open barn, the warm breeze hitting his exposed body and he rocked his hips back and forth, pumping his cock in Tom's mouth. His feet were still hobbled by his jeans and boxers and he held his balance by holding Tom firmly on the shoulders. Tom's mouth on his cock was hot, his sensitive cock head sliding over the slick tongue and pushing into Tom's throat made him get harder, his cock rigid, like stone. Tom ran his hands up Bobby's thighs and over his high round ass leaving a trail of dirt and grease. He probed between Bobby's cheeks, his fingers searching, teasingly moving along the place no one had ever touched before, not like this, and Bobby leaned over Tom's head, opened himself up as much as he could, giving himself to Tom. Tom found his target, rubbed his fingers over it, felt how tense, how very tight it was to his probing finger, but he pressed harder, feeling Bobby tense up above him then he felt his greasy finger slide in, penetrate Bobby, feel the inner heat of him, the soft velvety insides just past the hard tight ring of his hole. He worked one finger, then two and finally three into Bobby as he kept his mouth on Bobby's cock. He worked Bobby up, had him moaning, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing down on his fingers as he pulled his cock back, then sliding off his fingers as he drove his cock into Tom's mouth. Tom knew he had Bobby worked up, could feel his heat, hear the way he grunted and moaned, and he could see how his body was tensed up, tight, so he pulled free and stood up, looking at the glazed over look in Bobby's face.
"Do me now, Bobby" he asked in a low soft voice. Bobby looked at him and immediately eased down on his knees. He fumbled and tugged on Tom's jeans, working them open and down Tom's legs. Tom raised one foot, then the other, letting Bobby get his jeans and boxers completely off, wanting to be completely naked, wanted to expose his tall lean body to Bobby. Bobby held his cock up, half hard with excitement and took a tentative swipe at it with his tongue, then he opened his mouth and eased down on Tom's cock, taking it as far as he could, letting it fill his mouth. Tom knew it wouldn't take much, not like this, watching Bobby take his cock, his hair tickling his stomach every time Bobby took his cock. It was so hot both of them had a sheen of sweat covering them. Bobby fucked his mouth on Tom's cock, worked it back and forth through his lips, felt each inch move through his mouth. Tom held Bobby's head and worked his hips slowly, pushed his cock into Bobby till he had all of it, till it plugged his throat, cut off his air and Tom moved back only to repeat the move down into Bobby's throat, Bobby taking it each time, holding Tom's thighs for balance.
Tom wanted more and he pulled Bobby up and led him to the front of the tractor, Bobby hobbling with his jeans and boxers around his ankles, and Tom pushed him over the front tire. It was perfect the way Bobby's body curved over it, his ass turned up, open, and Tom moved up behind him, his legs straddling Bobby's and he pushed his hard wet cock against Bobby's hole, pressed against it, rubbed his cock up and down, stroking it, teasing it.
"Do it...come on Tom...do it" Bobby whispered as he looked around at Tom, his eyes lost to his desire, and Tom pressed forward, let his body weight bare down on Bobby and he watched his cock sink into Bobby's hole, stretch it open. The tight ring of Bobby's opening milked his cock as he pushed it all the way in, not stopping till his hips pressed up against Bobby's ass. Bobby moaned and rose up slightly as Tom bottomed out in his ass.
Tom began to move his hips, slowly at first, dragging his cock back and forth through Bobby's tight hole, till he felt Bobby loosen up, his tight hole open up for him and he began to fuck, to throw his hips into thrusting his cock into Bobby, burying his cock in Bobby's hole and then jerking it back, only to shove it back in, over and over and over, till he was hammering his cock into Bobby, his hips slapping against Bobby's ass, fucking him, hard, making Bobby grunt and moan as Tom took him.
Tom pulled out, stepped on Bobby's jeans and boxers and told him to step out of them. He pulled Bobby to him, felt the boy's hard cock press against him as he kissed him. He pulled Bobby over to the large rear wheel, pushed Bobby back against it. Tom leaned down, slid his arms around Bobby's thighs and lifted, bringing his legs up, spreading them, as he leaned his weight against Bobby, his back and shoulders propped against the large wheel as his ass came up, moved into position for Tom to slide his cock back in, to plunge it into Bobby and he began to fuck him again, hard and fast, holding Bobby between him and the tire. He leaned over and kissed Bobby as he fucked him, slamming his hips forward, feeling Bobby's hard cock rub against his stomach. Sweat ran in rivulets down his body as he exerted himself, worked his hips fast, pumping his cock into Bobby till he felt his muscles get tight, his body tense up and soon he felt his cock swell up, become rigid and he shoved in, slamming his body against Bobby, holding his folded up body tight as he pumped his load into him, wad after wad ejaculating deep into Bobby.
Tom worked his cock back and forth feeling the last of his load pump out, then he eased out and let Bobby's legs back down as he eased down in front of Bobby, down on his knees, his breathing labored, and he took Bobby's hard flexing cock and licked the pre-cum from the head, sucked the slick wet head, then he sucked Bobby into his mouth. He worked slowly, easing his mouth along the shaft knowing Bobby was close. He held Bobby's cock at the base, squeezed it, watch it flare up and he put the head back in his mouth and sucked, licked and tongued it till Bobby suddenly seemed to come alive and began to pump his hips, short jerky motions and soon he pumped his cum into Tom, hot thick wads filled Tom's mouth before he swallowed it, letting it slide down his throat warming his insides.
When Bobby was spent and pushed Tom's mouth off his sensitive cock Tom fell back on the ground and Bobby followed him down, lying on top of him, both still breathing hard, their bodies sweaty, covered in dirt, smeared with grease. They lay there, eyes closed, for a long time, until suddenly they felt the wind pick up, the temperature drop and there was a rumble of thunder off in the distance. Bobby rolled off Tom and they sat up looking at the back of the barn and saw the afternoon shower of rain move across the open field till it was on top of them.
"Come on" Tom said, getting up and holding his hand down for Bobby. Soon the two of them were out in the rain, letting the cool rain wash the dirt and sweat off. They rub hands over each other, kissed, and soon were horsing around, rolling on the wet ground.