A Male Specimen

You know the type. That particular male specimen that makes your cock get hard just by looking at it. I’m not referring to the details of each, for regardless of hair color or exact build or even how tall, they are the type of guy you want to sink a cock into. You just want to fuck them. Might even consider marrying the bastard, but then again maybe not. 

I knew the type. Had a few over the last few years since coming to the terms with the fact I’d rather fuck a man than a woman. Remembering senior year with that second basemen still makes my cock leak. And I found my eyes no longer lingered on the female of our specifies. It lingered on the males. I want to feel a chin rub against mine that needs to shave. I want to feel a hairy leg tickle the skin of my own. I want to feel a tight ass squeeze my cock as I sink in it. 

Living on a farm out in the middle of Rural America, USA didn’t offer the opportunities living in any city would provide, but when it did…fuck it was nice. Nothing like a drawling, rough around the edges, needs a shave and a haircut, and some decent clothes that are not worn, torn and exposing places I can’t keep my eyes off, country boy. As luck would have it, I found one of these nice specimens the other day. A real rugged male specimen. But this time there was a difference from all the others over the last ten years. Want to hear about?

Buddy called me just as I came into the house, dirty and sweaty, desperate for a shower. When the phone rang, I almost let it go to voicemail. I didn’t hesitate to let a ‘fuck’ fly across the room. I figured it was some bastard trying to sell me life insurance or a home equity loan at some enormous interest rate or maybe it was an extended warranty on my truck. It’s a 1973 Ford and yes, the idiots call offering a warranty. So, imagine my surprise when it was Buddy. He owns the last dairy farm in the county and for the area it is a large one. I think he is milking a thousand head, three times a day. Those tits get a workout, let me tell ya. But why he was calling me? Well, in the last few years I have helped ole Buddy out, helping get some crop in when his guys were tied up with something on the dairy. He planted corn or sorghum for silage to feed the cows and it seemed he had over a hundred acres that needed planting in sorghum right away, with the time to plant about to end. He explained how one of his guys was on vacation visiting a daughter who just had his first grandchild, and another was in the hospital after having surgery, so he short-handed.

“Yeah, Buddy, I just finished cutting corn. You think the season will be long enough for it to head out?”

“Yes, if we can get seed in the ground in the next week.”

“Do you need me to bring a tractor over or…”

“No, no, there are three sitting here not being used, so all I need is a someone who can operate one of them. Jack can help. I put him to disking the field this afternoon.”

“Well, Buddy, I’ll be over in the morning. About seven?”

“Sounds good David. I’ll be at the barn. Just come on back and tell one of the guys to come get me.”

“Sure thing. See ya tomorrow.”

By the barn, he meant the milking barn and I knew no one, and I do mean no one, goes in it that is not authorized. It was a clean space and they made sure it stayed that way. I tossed my cell phone down on the island in the kitchen, along with my wallet, keys, knife and loose pocket change, then went to the laundry room and stripped. I did not want my filthy clothes any further in the house. I had broken down after lunch and got dirt, grease and who knows what else all over me. On the way out of the field, I took a chance by trying to cut across a place I knew better and bogged down. A real feat with a Ford Hi-boy with four-wheel drive, but I can be a real pro at being a dumbass at times. It goes without saying, I arrived on the back porch filthy from head to toe.

After a long, hot shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and went into the kitchen. I looked in the frig, then in the pantry, and nothing jumped out at me. Nothing that looked easy to prepare. I was beat and slightly disappointed in not being able to kick back and rest the next few days. But Buddy paid well, and the work was easy enough. Back in my bedroom I slipped on boxers, a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were worn soft to the touch. They fit snug too, really held my cock in place, making me feel good. Keys, wallet and phone in hand I went back out to head into Chester for a burger. The joint was in a shopping center next to the grocery store and a consignment shop and was nothing to look at, but the food was good. The full parking lot every evening was a testament to that.

At five till seven the next morning, I rumbled down the drive to the barns. The main milking barn sat dead center of the operation, with two barns on the left for equipment, and two on the right, the larger one for birthing calves and keeping them in stalls for observation, and for cows needing treatment. The smaller barn was more shop than barn with a work benches, welding area, and shop and steel cranes. Two silos loomed large over the barns on the right and down below the milking barn a labyrinth of fencing to bring cows in an orderly fashion. I pulled in next to this new Dodge, knowing it was Buddy’s truck. I strolled across the dirt drive down toward the milking barn where I hoped to run into one of the guys. I was halfway there when a front-end loader came circling around the barn on my right. I stepped to the side to let it pass and waited. I expected to see Chuck, AJ or Samuel behind the wheel, three guys who have been at the dairy for years. But as I held up my hand to wave, I realized there was someone new operating it. Cap pulled low, hair curled out around it, and arms exposed by the sleeveless shirt he definitely had the look. I wondered, as he gave me a two-finger wave with the hand on the steering wheel, if he had the accent and mannerism to go with it. If so, I’d have some fantasy material the next time I jacked off. Easing on by, I watched the front-end loader cut across the area between the barns and head out a drive I knew went down to the silage pits.

“David! Buddy said to come down to the gate at the main lot” said AJ, who was walking my way.

“Thanks. How have you been?”

“Good…busy as fuck around here with two guys out.”

“I heard.”

“You here to plant the field over at the old place?”

“I guess. Is that the field he wants in sorghum?”

“Yep. I’m going to fuel up the tractor for you so come on back. It’ll be out front of the main barn.”

Buddy and Chuck were at the gate, Buddy cussing it and Chuck trying to blow torch off a hinge. It had been damaged by someone running into it.

“Hey Buddy.”

“David, glad you’re here. Jack is at granddad’s old place already. I sent AJ to get the tractor ready.”

“I saw him. What happened? One of the guys drive into it?”

“No, it was that damn bull.”

“The one you keep down in the lower lot?”

“Yeah…we brought him up to be checked out. I’ve been thinking of selling him. I got two others that have a good lineage and don’t cause me such grief.”

“So, he gave you last kick in the ass.”

“Something like that. The flat bed is at the field. You know the field so I don’t’ need to tell you anything. I assume the same hourly rate?”

“That works for me. I’ll go and get started” I replied, starting to walk away, but then my curiosity got the better of me.

“Hey, Buddy. You hire another guy?”

“Yeah, brought him on last month. A fellow from out west…Oklahoma. Paul is his name.”

“Working out for ya?”

“Yep. Been a good worker so far. You might run into him for we put him up in the old place.”

The field was ready for me to begin planting when I arrived at its gate about twenty minutes later. One of Buddy’s flat beds was parked along the fence with bags of seed stacked on back. Jack pulled up in the other tractor dragging the disc behind it. He climbed down and helped me load the planter. He had just a small section remaining, the part that ran behind the old home place and back to the woods that lined an old natural pond. Once he finished, I’d be left to get it planted. With the six-row planter I knew there was no way to finish in one day, but I would be complete early in the morning.

I started along the western fence line and made my way across the field, eyes ahead, always trying to keep the rows straight. Someone had to cultivate the crop later and there was nothing worse than rows that zig zagged across the field. I fell into that state where I heard the radio playing and saw the line in the field in which to follow. I saw cars and trucks pass on the road, a crop duster roar overhead, but it didn’t speak of the passage of time. There was no real awareness of my surroundings. Just me, the tractor and the soil I was putting seed into to grow.

It was my stomach growling that told me it was near noon. Glancing at my watch I saw it was 11:46 and I smirked at how my stomach seemed more aware of time than my brain. When I got back to the fence along road, I saw the new Dodge truck pull down into the ditch, knowing it was Buddy.

“You about ready for some lunch. Anita has it ready” said Buddy when I stuck my head out of the cab.

“Yes, sir. I’m starving.”

“Well, come on, let’s go eat.”

Anita was one of those women that never held a paying job, but damn if she didn’t work harder than most men I know. She helped with the books, drove trucks to the supply place or the vet, helped in the milking barn when needed, assisted the vet when he was on the premises and on top of all of that, she kept up their home and cooked three meals a day. If I found a woman like that I might go straight, but then again if I found a woman like that, she’d be doing the farm work and make me keep the house. Yeah, I was a bit scared of her, no matter how nice she was to me, for she could give Buddy hell, and set him on the right path like no one else. And you know what, I think that is what Buddy wants. I always laugh later (never in front of them) about their relationship.

Anita met us at the back door, telling us to take our shoes off, she had just moped. Once around the table my stomach growled loudly at the smell of fried chicken and two side dishes with it. I could see why Buddy struggled to keep his weight down eating like this. When we finished, Buddy carried me back to the field, telling me to just bring in the flat bed when I was ready to stop for the day.

I was back at it by one, easing across the field. Slowly, almost unaware of it, my shadow stretched out toward the east. A few rounds and I’d notice it was longer. It was getting toward the end of the day, around six thirty, when I was moving along the side of the old place. It had not changed much since I was a kid, barely able to reach the pedals. The same white paint on the siding, the same black painted trim and even though the windows were new, they were white as those before. In back, there was a small barn with an open bay in the middle. I saw a car inside it, just the body colored bumper visible when I first noticed it. The next round I looked in time to see the front, and realized it was an old Pontiac. An early seventies GTO or might have been LeMans or Grand Prix. I wasn’t sure, but assumed it belonged to Buddy’s new guy, Paul.

A couple more rounds and I was behind the house site. When I cleared the back of the barn and was able to see across the rear yard again, I saw one of Buddy’s farm trucks pull up to the back of the house. It was the next round that things got interesting. I was coming up on the house and realized off the back porch to one side, an area tucked up against the house out of sight of the road, was an outdoor shower. Now you ask, how could I know this from the distance I was away from it. Well, that Paul fellow was standing at it, back to me, holding out a hand testing the water that was spraying out the shower head mounted on the wall. And he was buck naked. Not a stitch of clothing on. Buddy is going to wonder why the rows are a bit crooked behind the old place, for let me tell you, it was some fine eye candy standing there.

I could see that round ass and tapered torso and long legs and…

You know I had to do it. There was no other way. I stopped that tractor, shut it down and climbed down. He acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Simply stepped under the shower and began to bath. I walked past the barn, taking my time letting him bathe. I watched the shampoo foam up in his hair then get rinsed from it. I passed the barn and started across the wide rear yard and watched his soapy hands rub over every inch of his body, including down between those round ass cheeks. As I passed a pecan tree with an old tire swing slowly spinning in place, I watched him rinse clean, and finally, after making me wait for far too long, turn around facing me. I couldn’t see his eyes but I knew they were on me by the way he held his head, how he stood so boldly in front of me and how his cock seemed to be getting bigger as I closed the distance between us. It hung over its sac heavily, framed by the pubic hair fanning out above it. I wanted him, wanted in a way I couldn’t focus on, my mind a jumble of things two men could do to each other. I wanted to do it all.

About forty feet away, fingers working frantically, I got my shirt unbuttoned and tossed it on the ground. I undid my jeans then realized my shoes had to come off first. Staggering as I tried to keep making forward progress, I got one shoe off, then the other. Socks lay in the dirt drive shortly after them. I worked my jeans down, stumbling as I got one leg free, then the other. I still felt confined; another garment still on that felt too much. I slipped my boxers down, stepped out of them with the left foot and kicked them across the grass yard with the right. I was finally naked, cock free to move, to elongate, showing Paul my own aroused state as I watched him slowly stroke his own cock till it stood up, sticking straight out toward me.

I took myself in hand stroked a couple of times as I closed the distance between us. He reached back and shut the shower off and stepped toward me. I didn’t say anything when I got to him, didn’t ask what he preferred, was he sure about this or what his fucking sign was. I dropped to my knees and took that bastard in my mouth. I toyed with the head while jacking the shaft, I tongued it till I got a moan and a shudder from him, then I pushed forward and let every inch slip through my lips. I buried my face in his abdomen, pubic hair tickling my nose and cock cutting off my air.

It was heaven.

Then I moved along that long thick cock. Let every inch drag through my lips. Slowly, letting me feel every curve and bump of vein, the shape of it as it moved through my lips. Yes, I was toying with him, seeing how far I could push him. A hand rested on my head, then fingers combed through my hair as I moved forward and back. Those fingers curled into a fist and he began to move my head forcibly on his cock. Back and forth, faster and faster. He fucked my mouth on it till spit dripped from it and my chin.

Then my mouth was empty and I panting for breath. He lifted me up, pushed me toward the porch. It was a little over two feet above the ground and he bent me over it till I was resting on my hands. He kicked my legs apart and dug his fingers into my ass. They toyed with me, rubbed at my tightness, then one, two, three fingers bore into my hole, stretching me open. He wasn’t fooling around or trying to make this last a long time. He wanted to fuck, and I was bent over ready to take it.

“Do it…stick me…fuck me, you bastard…fuck me” I commanded, my words coming out like some barked order in the military. He obeyed.

A hand held me by the shoulder, and I knew the other was guiding cock to my hole. I felt it rub along the crevice between my cheeks, center in on my opening and push through the tightness so fast I sucked in air like it was my last fucking breath. Then I leaned on my hands more and braced myself, knowing what was coming. He held my waist and fucked. He didn’t go slow or hold back any. Not one inch was left out. He shoved all the way in me, then pulled back till the head was free. And he shoved back in, over and over and over. He tore me open, plowed into my depths till I wondered if I could take it, till he came. He growled like a wild animal and I grunted and moaned like a bitch in heat.

Suddenly he lifted me up, wrapped an arm around my neck and hugged so tightly I struggled to breathe. Cock pummeled my hole, rocking my hips so hard my own cock smacked my stomach at times. It was physical. Brutal. And I wanted to cum.

Paul pulled out, spun me around and pushed me down on the grass. He hooked his arms behind my legs, lifting them. Hands slid down my calves and grabbed each ankle and I was suddenly folded in half, ass raised perfectly for his cock. He pressed it against my hole and slammed through pushing into my depths. I shuddered with the penetration as he held himself up on hands and feet and banged my ass with every thrust inward. He hammered cock into my depths, hit my insides in ways that made me see stars. I grabbed at the grass, fingers digging into the ground while I wondered how deep he was getting inside me. It felt like he was trying to puncture a lung or something. I heaved for breath, then cried out.

“Fuck me…fuck me harder…”

He bounced off my ass then jammed into my depths. His body shook as he reared up, eyes closed and teeth clinched tight, filling me with his load. He kept jamming inward till he was totally spent then finally pulled out. He stood, cock half hard and dripping, and looked down on my prone body.

“You can leave now” he uttered, then sauntered into the house, letting the screen door slam close.

I was so aroused I could barely stand. My cock ached for release and the wet head was still drooling. I picked up my clothes as I staggered back toward the tractor. I couldn’t get into my clothes, not yet, nor could I climb up in that tractor. I stepped around the barn and fell down against the back wall. With my back pressed against the rough siding and legs sticking straight out, I began to jack off. I was desperate for relief. My hand was wet as soon as I started and it didn’t take long. Cum spewed thickly from my cock, spattering me in the face, then chest. I kept stroking till my cock flexed empty and I fell still thinking of Paul and how he had used me.

I dressed and called it a day. I drove the flat bed back to the dairy and parked it in one of the barns. I didn’t look for Buddy or stop to talk with any of his guys. I knew I smelled of cum and probably had some mark on my forehead that said, ‘Paul fucked me’. I staggered to my truck and got my ass home.

In the shower with images of Paul hovering over me pumping cock into my depths, I was hard again. I leaned against the tile wall and masturbated. I stroked my cock till I thought the skin would peel away and the head couldn’t take much more before finally painting the tile with my load. After a quick dinner, I piled up on the sofa and flipped through channels, not watching anything for long. After a couple of hours, I said, “fuck it” and went to bed where I lay horny and anxious for half the night.

The sun had just cleared the horizon when I pulled into diary, parking next to a line of trucks. I knew some of the guys had been on the night shift doing the third milking then using the hour of down time to clean and prep for today’s milking. I went to the barn where the flat bed was parked and climbed in. The keys dangling in the ignition where I left them made me laugh. Buddy hadn’t changed. Once back in the field I pulled in at the old home place and drove to the back where the tractor was parked. Paul’s truck was gone. I knew he probably was at the dairy, but still, I had hoped to at least see him in passing.

Bins filled, I set out to finish the field, working around the house site and across the other side, which was another thirty acres by the look of it. I made good time, cutting back and forth across the field. Each time I was heading toward the road I’d look over at the house with images of getting fucked in the backyard vivid in my mind. My cock stirred in my jeans, grew hard time and time again till it hurt in its confinement. I had been tempted more than once to just take it out and jack off. Just stop in the field and shoot a load, thinking it would help. But I didn’t for some part of me liked the way I stayed horny, constantly getting aroused by the images of Paul before me as I sucked his cock or bent over taking it in the ass, or laying on the ground, legs pushed against my chest as I got pummeled.

I was around eleven when I finally made it across the field. I made a round across the back side to finish it up to the edge, cut down the fence line along the side for the last time then made a round across the front completing the planting. I pulled the tractor into the backyard near the barn and shut down. I was going around the planter checking to see how much seed remained in the bins when the sound of an approaching vehicle drew my attention. Looking up I saw Paul pull in around the house and park. He got out, glanced my way, then headed into the house. There had been no wave or acknowledgment, and it kind of pissed me off.

“Arrogant bastard” I muttered as I walked over to the flat bed. There were five or six bags left and I climbed up to stack them neatly near the cab. One was leaking seed, the seam at the top broken open. I sat it upright near the edge of the bed and climbed down. Placing it in the footwell of the passenger side, I leaned it against the seat to prevent more spillage. Standing upright, I saw Paul on the back porch, shirtless, wearing jeans that could not hang any lower on his hips. I swore pubic hair had to be visible above the waistband. He looked in my direction, adjusted his cock then went back inside. The screen door slammed shut but beyond it, through the screen the back door stayed open.

“Fucking tease” I uttered as I headed toward the house.

As I walked across the yard, it came to me, how Paul reminded me of Nat, my first. Dad had hired him to renovate one of the hog barns and rework the fence around it. It was my senior year of high school and I was this confused eighteen-year old virgin who watched him with a longing I understood but was scared as shit to act upon. But Nat understood it. He had been in his early thirties, with a muscular stocky body and a cock to match. One afternoon, when mom and dad had gone up to Montgomery, I found myself on my knees worshiping it. I put my tongue against dirty flesh, I kissed the leaking head and took it in my mouth. Then leaning against the side of that barn, forearms digging into the rough wood, I took it in my ass. He fucked me roughly, telling my what a nice tight ass I had. And he stroked my cock till I painted the side of the barn with my load as he filled me with his.

He used me constantly after that, in the barn, down at the motel he was staying at the edge Chester and once down on Blackwater Creek, standing in water up to my calves with his cock buried in my ass. A week later he was gone. I admit it. I cried. Like a heartbroken little boy. It was three weeks later something came over me. This fierceness to put the memory of Nat aside and create new memories. To find my own way. And one Saturday night cruising around town I found Henry, our second baseman, at the park sitting on the tailgate of his truck. We got friendly, more than usual, helped by the bourbon he had stolen from his parent’s bar. We talked about girls he pretended to like, joked around about sex, then with a mischievous lie, I got him out on a fire lane in the woods south of town. We played touch games with each other till I had him naked expecting a blow job. What he got was much more. I fucked him and continued to fuck him for the next few weeks till he freaked out about it. Then I pursued others, and over the last ten years I found guys who would bottom for me. I didn’t let anyone else fuck me, not until the day before when Paul had torn my ass up.  My cock throbbed with the memory of it.

 I didn’t say ‘hello’ or knock on the door. I simply went inside. I stood in the kitchen and stripped, tossing my clothes over the small dining table. I knew it was what he wanted for his jeans lay in the floor pointing toward the short hall that led to the bedrooms. I stepped across them, wiping my feel on the soft denim and went to the master bedroom that sat at the front of the house. From the hall I could see his feet on the bed and drawing closer, more and more of his leg till I was at the door and could see his naked body propped up on the bed. His cock was half hard and I knew it would soon be like granite.

Nothing was said. He looked at me like I was trash, something that needed discarding. I looked at him as stoically as I could, concealing my excitement. He turned and looked out the window, ignoring me. Bastard. But I knew how to get his attention. I knew what guys like him wanted. I got down on my hands and knees and submissively crawled to him. I climbed up on the foot of the bed and leaned down kissing his foot. I tongued it, then sucked on the big toe. I dragged my tongue up his hairy calf, the sides of mouth tickled by the hairs as my tongue left a matted down trail. I kissed his knee, then up the thigh to a scare that was five inches long and I winced at the thought of how he could have gotten it. I trailed my tongue along its length then up the thigh till I was at his crotch. I leaned down and dragged my tongue over the loose sac, worked his nuts around before taking one in my mouth. I sucked on it hard and watched his hands ball up into fists. I had his attention now.

I took the other nut and tugged till he shuddered. Then I dragged my tongue over the tightening sac and along the rock-hard cock. My tongue glided wetly over the smooth skin till I had the spongy head in my mouth. I sucked on it, tongued it till rewarded with the sweetness of precum. Holding the rock-hard shaft, I bore my tongue into the slit wanting more and he shivered beneath me. Then I took every inch.

Hands took my head and used my mouth as a fuck toy. I choked and drooled around that cock till my eyes watered. He let me go, clasped hands behind his head and looked at me, waiting for me to pleasure him some more. I moved up over his waist and held his wet cock up. I moved down to it, felt it touch my opening, and let my weight carry me down, feeling the stretch of my opening and the filling of my hole. I rode him roughly, quickly getting into a fast pace. The bed squeaked and rocked, eventually banging into the wall. It was loud, but not as loud as my cries of ‘fuck’. He let me stroke myself as I rode him. Up and down my body moved as my hand went back and forth twice as fast.

I kept my eyes open, staring at him as he stared back. I looked at his chest, with the hair between the pecs, and a scare near the collarbone. He looked like someone who had a rough life.

It seemed like a long time, but it wasn’t. I was too wound up. Too aroused. I slammed down on his cock and came. It erupted out of me and hit Paul in the face then roped down his chest and stomach. I shook with my release, ground my ass down on Paul’s cock and jerked with each ejaculation. His hands grabbed each thigh and held me down as I felt him pushing upward. He jammed his hips against my ass and shook and I knew he was filling my hole.

Sitting on his spent cock I was panting for breath. I ran a hand up my chest where it glided slickly over wet skin. I was burning up. But we were not done. Not by a fucking long shot.

Paul sat up, grabbed me by the hair and dragged me over and down on my stomach. He was on me fast, cock buried in my ass as his sweaty body lay on mine. He wrapped an arm around my neck holding me like his bitch. A tight squeeze and I struggled for breath as he started to fuck. He thrust into my depths hard and fast. He fucked for a long time, boring into my depths. I grunted and moaned and took every thrust.

Paul rose up on his knees and made me get on mine. Head pushed down into a pillow, ass up, I took him again. Hips smacked against my ass and the bed banged into the wall. Every sound was in rhythm to his fuck. I felt his hand slide up my wet back right along the spine. Fingers combed into the hair at the back of my head. Then I was roughly pulled up till arched back. My chest curved out and sweat trickled down it. My cock flopped back and forth between my thighs. And he kept fucking. He banged my insides till I wanted to cum again.

Paul thrust up inside me then jammed his hips against my ass. He shuddered and jerked against my back. Hot exhales hit my neck with soft stifled grunts. His cock flex in my hole releasing its load.

Paul pulled out and I rolled over on my back, hard wet cock in hand, desperate to get off again. The only sound was my hand stroking cock like a desperate virgin. He watched me while still on his knees between my legs. He just stared as I drew closer and closer. Then he shocked the shit out of me.

Knocking my hand away Paul went down between my legs and took me in his mouth. He slipped every inch through his lips and buried his nose in my abdomen. I shuddered with the feel of his tongue toying with me. I clawed at the bed and shook with need. His head went up and down, then his mouth held the head, sucking on it while his fist stroked my shaft. I shuddered with the manipulation then filled his mouth.

Then it was over, and he was getting dressed.

“I have to go back to work. Get dressed and get out.”

I dressed and eased out the back door, feeling dismissed in a way I didn’t like. Crossing the backyard going to the tractor to take it back to the dairy, I looked back when I heard the screen door swing open. Paul came out, shut the back door and let the screen door slam closed. He descended the steps and headed to his truck.

“I love you too…asshole” I muttered as I climbed into the truck.

Four Weeks Later

For the last few weeks I berated myself. Told myself to get things back to the way they were before Paul showed up. To just let it go. But I rushed home at six-thirty, cleaned up quickly, throwing on some gym shorts and a tank top (and nothing else) and started dinner. I set the table, putting out two place settings feeling my cock begin to flex with anticipation. At seven thirty I heard the truck pull around and park behind my truck. I heard the door slam shut then footsteps across the screen porch. There was no knock, just the back door swinging open. Paul came in wearing a clean t-shirt and jeans. Casual, not a care in the world.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Baked chicken, beans, and mac and cheese. You want tea or a beer?”

“Tea is fine.”

Yep, Paul could actually talk. He could even hold a conversation. Over the last couple of weeks, he told of growing up in Oklahoma, of prowling the bars in Oklahoma City and going to Dallas or Denver. He told of moving east, to the south to get away from what had become a pointless routine. He made vague references to the men that had been in his life, a few that seemed to mean something to him.

We ate and talked about the farms and the dairy. What Buddy had been up to and even Paul laughed when telling of some situation between Anita and Buddy. I asked again about the scares, the one on the right thigh and at the collarbone and he looked away telling me to forget it.

We retired to the living area and watched a baseball game. I looked at the players, especially the pitcher of the home team, reminded of Henry and I confessed how Henry had been my second person to have sex with and the first that I was on top. Paul listened, then rubbed his crotch, looking over.

“Does it make you horny to think of it?”

“Yes” I replied as I watched him grope himself. He looked at me with his stern expression and I knew it was time.

I stood and pulled the tank top off, dropped the gym shorts to my ankles and stepped out of them. Down on my hands and knees I crawled to Paul, slipped up between his legs and worked his jeans open. He pulled the t-shirt off and raised his ass, letting me slip the jeans down. I worked them off each foot tossing them to the side. I lay each arm along his thighs just for the sensation of touch. To feel the warmth of his body. I scooted up closer, let his legs brush up against my sides, the hairy calves ticklish against my skin. He wiped his cock across my face, rubbed my lips till wet, teasing me, making me want it more. He hammered it against my face till I said it.

“Please?”

Holding it up before my face, I opened my mouth and took him once again.