The farmer and the graveyard

Based on a true story….names have been changed. 

On a Friday night in October 1973 after a home football game I had planned to meet up with a buddy of mine out in the country to drink some Jack Daniels and smoke a joint. I pulled my pickup off the rode and hiked up a hill on the backside of the main road.

I told my buddy I had the liquor and only one joint. He said he would try to score some more weed and meet me. It was a cool autumn night but I had an old blanket that I always carry behind the seat of my Ford pickup.

I had a coke and mixed the Jack and coke waiting on my bud to arrive. This side of the hill was so peaceful. A rural county farm road in Knox county Tennessee. I fired up the joint I had and was just chilling out under the stars. About thirty minutes later I was kinda getting concerned about my buddy and at the same time the Jack and pot had me very relaxed. A few minutes later I heard footsteps. I called out in a soft voice, “Sam, is that you?” No response. Now as a country boy I knew the sound of a shot gun being cocked. A man spoke, who are you and what are you doing on my property? I was scared and decided to take off running in the dark. I got about 30 yards deep in the field when all of a sudden I fell….I mean a drop of six feet into a pit. The hole was fresh dirt. In a moment the man with the shotgun arrived. He squatted down and looked down at me. I was so scared whatever type of buzz I had going quickly disappeared. I pleaded with the guy not to shoot me. I yelled….get me out of here. The reality kicked in…..I had fallen in a freshly dug grave.

It was very common 50 years ago many rural farm communities had family cemeteries on their property. I also discovered during the buzzkill I had pissed myself and my jeans were wet and piss had run down to my socks and my boots. Fuck, what a mess I was in. The owner of the shotgun laughed at me and said…son, let’s get you out of this hole. I told him my truck was on the backroad and I had a large rope in the bed of my truck. I learned his name was Douglas and he was going to help me. Douglas walked off and in a few minutes I heard my truck start up. He drove my truck up in the field and parked it ….but kept my headlights on so he would have some light. He tied off the rope to the bumper and tossed me the rope. He suggested I loop it under my armpits and he would he would slowly pull me out. I’ve never had to climd out of a six foot grave before nor had I ever gone mountain climbing. I’ve hiked the backside of the Smokies as a teenager and grew up close to Wears Valley, Townsend and Pigeon Forge so my skill set was indeed helpful to get out of the grave.

Douglas started out at as hard ass but I so realized he was just a good ole country boy. As I got to solid ground I smelled like piss and sure didn’t want to get in my truck with jeans soaked in my piss. Douglas told me to strip down. Throw my clothes in the back of my truck. I sat in the passenger side of my truck and Douglas drove my truck a couple of miles to his place. He was a tobacco farmer and during this season he grew pumpkins. I got out of my truck. Barefoot, naked from the waist down and my flannel shirt was dirty and my feet were really dirty from climbing the dirt wall of the grave. In addition Douglas shared with me his aunt had passed away and the family had planned her service for Sunday afternoon after church. Douglas was a handsome man in person up close on the back porch where his back light was on. He had a nice beard, a ginger of a man. He walked me down the small hallway to the bathroom. He got me some fresh towels, a wash rag and a bar of Irish Spring soap.

As I took my flannel shirt off he picked it up and took my clothes to the back porch and started the washer. He returned and was naked. He grinned and said….Your piss soaked jeans got me wet. He stepped in the shower with me and said, pass the soap. As a country boy I had sucked more than a cock or two in my days….but holy hell….this red headed man had a beautiful red bush around his thick five inch soft thick cock. He was uncut which we always considered in the south as our sigh of poverty or home births…..not everyone in the 1950-1960s went to the hospital for births. Lots of women served as midwives and they knew what they were doing.

As we continued to shower Douglas whispered in my ear….I sure am glad I didn’t shoot your ass back there in the graveyard. He took my chin in his strong hand and brought his lips to my face. I welcomed his tongue. We washed and he soaked up my cock, pulled the skin back and teased my cockhead with his fingers. I ran my soapy hands through his beard and I kissed his neck and said….I’m sorry to be so much trouble. I just wanted to chill out under the stars. He smacked my ass and slide a finger in my hole and said….son, you are still going to get punished for trespassing on my land. I nibbled on his lower lip and whispered….yes sir, whatever you say sir.

We got out of the shower and dried off with the same towel. He led me down the hall to his bedroom. He told me his mom and dad fucked in this bed and that is where he was conceived. His parents had been dead for about five years. He was an only child and the farm was left to him as a young adult.

Douglas kissed me passionately and told me to bend over his knee. Damn, his furry legs and thighs felt good against my hairless chest. Playfully Douglas swatted my ass. He used a little more force. He told me to get on the bed belly down. The next thing I realized my hole was wet. I couldn’t believe his mouth, tongue was back there licking my man pussy. I had never been eaten before. I later learned rimmed is the correct term. God bless, he definitely got me all hot and bothered. He reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a small glass bottle of oil. He fingered my hole and told me to climb up on his pecker. I lowered my body slowly down on his fat dick. My cousin had fucked me but he was just as inexperienced as I was. Douglas told me to let him do the work. Looking down at him he was so handsome. He stretched my pussy and eventually I was loving having his fat cock in me.

I started touching my cock and he swatted my hands away. He growled at me saying I was not allowed to cum yet. My goodness, he was thrusting up into my ass so deep. He reached his hand up to my mouth and I sucked on his fingers. My cock was leaking, I begged him to let me grab my cock. Nothing doing. He continued thrusted up into my used pussy. He was strong and each jab of his cock was hitting my man spot. A couple of minutes later my body started shaking. Without ever touching my rock hard pecker my cock exploded and I shot my warm load all over his chest. Some of my cum landed in Douglas’ beard. He literally fucked the cum out of my cock. He grinned at me….looking up at me and said….time to give you my load. God…I felt his cum shooting in my ass like streams of constant blast forced up my man shoot.

I leaned over him and kissed him. He held me tight and told me ….let’s get another shower. In the showered he lowered himself behind me and placed his mouth over my pink used hole. He sucked his cum out of my worn and drilled ass. He stood and grabbed my face with both hands. He fed me his cum in a hot kiss. I was whipped. He washed my body…..gently rubbed my nuts and dropped in front of me and sucked me dry.

My clothes were wet and he told me he didn’t have a dryer. Country folks still used cloth lines at that time, He told me to just spend the night. I called my folks and told them I was going to sleep over at Tommy’s house. My dad appreciated me calling. I called Tommy and told him to cover for me….he asked if I was drunk, did my truck break down….I told him I got myself in a deep mess but was able to get out of the hole.

Douglas smack my ass…told me to get back in bed. It was my turn to fuck him.
That fall I worked on his pumpkin farm. We went skinny dipping on warm autumn days in the pond on his property. At Christmas we walked up the hill and placed flowers on his parents graves. He stood at his Aunt Ethel’s grave and said….yes ….this is where you fell that Friday night a couple of months ago.

I graduated high school in May 1974. Moved off to college to Tennessee Tech. To this day I still live on that small farm Douglas shared with me. Sadly, Douglas is resting peacefully on the hill beside his parents.