"You know, Steve," Larry drawled, "those shorts of yours are hangin' so low I can see the top of your underwear."
I was a lanky twenty-two-year-old with a mop of unruly hair, and I glanced down at my shorts with amusement and annoyance. It was my first day on the job at the local farm for summer, and already I'd been ribbed half a dozen times about my fashion choices. I'd thought the heat would be the biggest challenge, but apparently, it was keeping my tighty whities concealed.
"They're comfortable, Larry," I shot back with a shrug, continuing to stack the hay bales. The farm was a sprawling expanse of land that rolled away into the horizon, a patchwork of greens and golds under the beating sun. The scent of earth and ripe produce hung heavy in the air, punctuated by the distant lowing of cattle.
Larry, the burly farmer with a weather-beaten face, chuckled good-naturedly. He had a firm handshake and a no-nonsense attitude that I'd quickly learned to respect. Despite his teasing, he was fair and patient, showing me the ropes with a gentle insistence that I get things right. "Comfort's important, but so is decency," he said with a wink. "I hope those briefs are clean today?"
I couldn't help but laugh at the old man's banter. "You're one to talk," I retorted, nodding towards his tattered dungarees that looked like they hadn't seen the inside of a washing machine in a decade. Larry's laughter boomed out across the barn, echoing off the high wooden rafters.
The days grew longer, the work harder, but the teasing over my shorts remained a constant. It became a game of sorts, with Larry finding new ways to bring it up and me coming up with increasingly creative comebacks. Despite the ribbing, we developed a friendly camaraderie that made the back-breaking labour a bit more bearable.
One scorching afternoon, Larry approached me with a serious look. "Steve, I've got a job for you that's not exactly in your job description, but it's gotta be done." He paused, wiping the sweat from his brow with a grimy handkerchief. "The duckweed in the pond's gettin' out of hand. It's choking the water, and the animals need a clean place to drink."
I followed Larry's gaze to the pond, its surface a thick carpet of green. "You want me to go in there?" The thought of the sludgy water and the creatures that might be lurking beneath made my skin crawl.
"Afraid of a little weed, are ya?" Larry's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Don't worry, it's not deep. Just get in there with a rake and clear it out. It'll be a nice cool-off after all this hay bustin'."
"Larry, I'm happy to do that, but I don't have anything suitable to wear," I told him.
He chuckled. "You'll be fine in those tighty whities of yours. Just make sure they're not gonna fall on you." His laugh was deep and hearty, as if the whole situation was the most amusing thing he'd seen all week.
I eyed him sceptically, the heat making me consider the offer. It was a scorcher, and the idea of plunging into the cool pond water was tempting. Plus, I had a feeling that Larry wouldn't ask me to do anything dangerous without a good reason. With a sigh, I nodded and started peeling off my layers of dusty work clothes.
The moment the cool water hit my bare skin, I gasped and felt a wave of relief. The pond was murky, with a green duckweed creating a film just beneath the surface, but the chill was heavenly. Larry tossed me the rake, and I took a few tentative steps in, the water rising to my thighs, just below my tighty whities. The duckweed was thick and clingy, wrapping around my legs like a wet blanket. I took a deep breath and started to rake, feeling the weed give way with every pull.
As I worked, the water grew colder, and I realised with a jolt that the pond was deeper than it looked as my feet lost touch with the bottom, and I disappeared under the water. Larry watched from the bank, his chuckles turning into full-blown laughter as he saw me disappear and then struggle to regain my footing. "You're doin' fine, Steve," he called out. "Just keep at it."
I emerged, spluttering and pushing the duckweed out of my face. When I finally managed to stand up, I looked down and couldn't help but laugh at the sight of myself. The duckweed had clung to me like a second skin, turning my tighty whities into a verdant mess that matched the rest of my body. Larry's guffaws grew louder as he took in the spectacle. "You look like the swamp creature's kid brother," he said, slapping his knee.
I waded back to the edge of the pond, rake in hand, and gave Larry a mock salute. "Thanks for the fashion advice," I said, grinning. My shorts had been discarded long ago, and now I was a human-sized duckling wading through the murky water. The sensation of the weed clinging to my body was oddly refreshing, and the coolness was a stark contrast to the oppressive heat outside the pond.
But as I turned to go back to work, I caught Larry's gaze lingering on me in a way that made my cheeks burn. His eyes were wide, and his mouth had fallen slightly open. It dawned on me that my tighty whities weren't just covered in weed; they'd gone see-through. I felt a rush of embarrassment and quickly tried to cover myself, but the weed clung to my hand like a wet towel.
"Well, I'll be," Larry said, his voice low and a bit raspy. "I had no idea you were packing that kind of equipment, Steve," as he cleared his throat and looked away, his cheeks reddening slightly.
I tried to laugh it off, splashing water in Larry's direction. "Yeah, well, I guess the pond's got its perks," I said, trying to hide the fact that I was mortified that Larry could see me and had commented.
"You just keep on keepin' on, Steve," Larry said, still chuckling but looking away now, his gaze focused elsewhere. "When you're done, I'll hose you down."
I nodded and turned back to the water, feeling the weight of his gaze on me as I plunged back into the task. The water was now a little less inviting, my mind racing with embarrassment. But there was work to do, and I wasn't going to let a little bit of exposed skin get in the way of a job well done. I raked furiously, the water churning around me as I cleared patch after patch of the pesky weed.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the farm, I finally managed to clear a significant area of the pond. I was exhausted, covered in weed, and my pride had taken a bit of a hit, but the water was noticeably clearer, and I could see the bottom again. Larry had been watching from a safe distance, occasionally tossing out a joke or two, but mostly just letting me work.
"Alright, that's good enough for today. You can finish tomorrow," he called out, breaking the silence. "Time to get you cleaned up."
With a sigh of relief, I made my way to the pump Larry had set up at the pond's edge. He picked up the hose, his expression a mix of amusement and something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I braced myself for the cold water, but instead of spraying me down immediately, he took a step closer, his eyes lingering on my chest again.
"You sure you can handle this?" I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
He nodded, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly. "You've done good work, Steve. Just stand still and let me get you cleaned up."
The water hit me like a wall, cold and sharp. It peeled the weed off my skin, revealing goosebumps and a few small scrapes from the raking. I tried to keep my face neutral, not wanting to betray the awkwardness I felt. Larry's eyes never left my body, and for a moment, I wondered if this was just another part of the job I hadn't anticipated. But as the water washed away the last of the weed and the tension between us began to ease, I realised that maybe, just maybe, there was more to Larry's teasing than I had first thought.
As the last of the green duckweed slid off my body, I couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. The water was cold, sure, but the way Larry was looking at me, it was like he saw me as something more than just a farmhand for summer in my wet and transparent tighty whities. And as the hose pressure lessened, and he finally turned it off, I couldn't help but feel a strange kind of kinship with the old farmer.
"Thanks, Larry," I said, trying to keep things light as I wrung out my hair.
He handed me a towel, his gaze lingering just a beat too long. "No problem, Steve," he murmured.
I nodded, wrapping the towel around my waist, the fabric feeling surprisingly comforting against my skin. "If I have to do that again tomorrow, I shall have no clean tighty whities left, you know."
"Could be worse," Larry responded. "I might make you finish the job without them," he said, chuckling louder.
I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine as I took in his words. The way he was looking at me was different, like he was seeing something new, something he hadn't quite expected. It was both flattering and unnerving. I laughed it off, trying to keep the situation from getting too serious. "I'll stick to the weed-covered look," I said, tossing the towel around my shoulders and walking back towards my room that joined the barn where I stayed.
The room was simple but clean, with a small bed, a chest of drawers, and a single window that looked out over the field of crops. There was a bathroom attached, with a shower that was nothing short of heaven after a long day's work. The water was hot and strong, washing away the sweat and grime of the day. I stepped in, letting the warmth cascade over my body, feeling the tension ease from my muscles.
Once I was clean, I dug through my bag and found a clean pair of tighty whities. They clung to my body, fresh and crisp against my skin. I pulled on my shorts, feeling the material stick to my legs in the humid air, and grabbed a t-shirt from the pile of clean laundry Larry's daughter had dropped off for me. The smell of dinner wafted in through the window, and my stomach growled in response. Larry might have had his quirks, but the one thing that couldn't be denied was that he could cook.
Dinner was a quiet affair, the only sounds the clinking of silverware against plates and the occasional mumble of gratitude for the food. Larry's wife had passed away, and so it was only us two enjoying the meal as his daughter lived a few miles away with her family.
Larry broke the silence by telling me, "Don't forget to put your dirty clothes in the laundry, as my daughter will collect them tomorrow, and that includes your underwear from today. They will need an extra wash, I suspect," Larry said.
"Already done, Larry," I said as I resumed eating the delightful meal he had cooked, as I remembered that I only had the tighty whities I was wearing until his daughter returned my washing the next day.
Afterwards, with the table cleared, we all sat on the porch, the air thick with the scent of lavender from the bushes nearby. Larry handed me a cold beer, and the condensation on the bottle was like a lifeline to normalcy.
Larry broke the silence on the porch. "Steve, you looked a picture today in the pond in your underwear, totally covered in duckweed from your impromptu swim."
"Thanks, I guess?" I replied, taking a swig of the beer, not quite sure how to react to his statement. "You didn't tell me it could get so deep when I first waded in," I told him. "If only I had known."
Larry chuckled. "Well, it's all part of the job experience, isn't it?" taking a sip from his bottle, his eyes glinting in the twilight. "But seriously, you handled yourself well out there. I know it's a dirty job, but it has to be done. On a serious note, though, let's try and finish it tomorrow, and if you wish to save your remaining underwear, I won't be offended if you carry on the task without them. It will also give me something to enjoy, if you know what I mean."
I asked myself if I had heard Larry correctly. Was he suggesting I could spend the day in the pond, nude?
The night grew still, the crickets playing a symphony in the background. Larry's gaze was unwavering, and his smile held a hint of something more than just a joke. I took another swig of my beer, trying to process his words. "You're serious?" I finally managed to ask.
"As a heart attack," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It's just skin, Steve. Besides, I've seen it all before." He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded over his broad chest. "But if you're not comfortable....."
"You haven't seen me, though," I said.
"Well, I sort of saw you today, and I liked what I saw. You are a very fit young man and should be proud of your body." Larry responded.
I felt the blush creeping up my neck again. "Okay, I'll think about it," I said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. But deep down, part of me was intrigued by the idea as we resumed drinking our beers on the porch.
I sat there unable to shake the image of Larry watching me in the pond. His eyes had lingered in a way that was both exciting and unnerving. Did Larry know I was bi? Did he find me attractive? If it meant getting the job done more efficiently and keeping the farm in good condition, should I give it a shot? All these questions popped up until I decided it was time to hit the sack. "Larry, I'm feeling bushed and if you don't mind, I shall turn in for the night."
Larry looked me over as if trying to read my thoughts when he answered. "That's fine. See you in the morning and don't forget, feel proud of yourself and just think about it," was all he said as I stood, thinking yet again, he has indirectly suggested I should deal with the duckweed in the nude.
The next morning, I woke up with a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as I made my way to the kitchen, feeling the warmth of the day starting to build, wearing my only clean pair of tighty whities and a t-shirt.
"Morning, Larry, looks like a nice day ahead."
"It sure does," he said, his eyes lingering on my form for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. "You sleep well?"
"As well as I can in this heat," I said, pouring myself a glass of water. "What's the plan for today?"
"Apart from watching you in the pond dealing with the duckweed, there are no other plans out of the ordinary," Larry responded with a smile.
I took a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet. "Might as well get it over with then, right? And I'm sure you will find it as amusing as yesterday."
"I'm sure I will," Larry answered, with a smile beaming across his entire face.
Breakfast was finished, and we made our way down to the pond. The air was still cool, but the promise of heat was already in the air, a sticky anticipation that clung to my skin. I took a deep breath and, with a glance at Larry, I pulled my t-shirt off and flung it onto the grass, only to stand there in my tighty whities before deciding to go all in. "Fuck it, I thought" as I slipped them off, feeling the cool morning air kiss my skin as I stepped out of them.
The water was cooler than I expected, sending a shiver down my spine as I waded in. Larry's eyes were on me the whole time, and I couldn't tell if it was the thrill of the moment or the chilly water that had my heart racing. The duckweed felt different without the barrier of fabric, sliding against my bare skin as I started to rake. The sensation was oddly sensual, and I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under Larry's gaze.
As I worked, the sun began to warm the water, and the chill faded away, replaced by a gentle caress that seemed to awaken something within me. My strokes grew more deliberate, my muscles flexing with each movement. I felt the first stirrings of an erection, trying to ignore it, but it was like the weed had a mind of its own, wrapping around me in a way that made it impossible to hide.
Larry cleared his throat, his eyes flicking down to my groin. "You okay, Steve?" he asked, his voice a little too casual.
The water was up to my lower waist as I looked at Larry, "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, my cheeks burning as I realised my arousal was visible. The tighty whities from the day before had hidden my body's reaction, but now there was nothing between my skin and Larry's gaze.
He stared for a moment longer, his eyes darkening before he finally looked away, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "You're doing good work," he said, his voice gruff. "Keep it up, you look great."
I nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand, but it was difficult with the water sliding over my now fully erect cock, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through my body with every stroke. I was painfully aware of Larry's eyes on me, and I couldn't help but feel a thrill of exhibitionism, the idea of being watched adding to my arousal.
I felt the tension grow between us as I worked, the water now a balm against my overheated skin. Every time I turned to face him, I caught him looking, his eyes lingering a moment too long before darting away.
"Steve, why don't you take a break?" Larry suggested, his voice tight. "I can hose you down if you stand on the grass, and then we can have a break. Besides the duckweed hanging from your pubic hair, I might be able to help you with that..." He gestured towards my erection, his cheeks reddening.
I nodded, the blood rushing to my head. "Yeah, I think I could use a break." The water was now a warm embrace, my body feeling alive in a way it hadn't before. As I climbed out of the pond, the weed slithered off me like a lover's embrace, leaving me standing naked before Larry with my erection pointing skyward, with my pubic hair matted with duckweed.
He took a step closer, his gaze raking over me from head to toe. "You're a fine specimen," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Let's go get you sorted, shall we?" as he lifted the hose and started to spray the fresh water all over my body.
"Let me take care of that for you," Larry said, "Turn around so I can do your back," his voice a gentle rumble.
I did as told and turned around as he sprayed my body. Larry resorted to using his hand to wash off the more belligerent duckweed, and slowly, the battle with the duckweed started to be won as my body became clear of the green specks of the plant that I had been tasked with cleaning from the pond.
It was a strange feeling, being washed by my employer, but as his hands grew bolder, washing my body using the power of the hose, I found myself leaning into his touch, craving more. Larry washed me more, his hands grew more intimate, brushing over my ass and hips. I could feel his breath on my neck, hot and ragged. "Is this part of the job, too?" I managed to ask, my voice thick with need and sarcasm.
He chuckled, as for the first time, his hand wrapping around my cock with surprising gentleness. "Call it a bonus," he murmured, his grip tightening.
I leaned back into him, my head lolling as his experienced hand began to stroke me. The farm, the job, all of it faded away, leaving only the two of us, on the grass, in the open, by the pond, the only sound, the flowing water of the hose.
Dropping the hose, Larry's other hand found my chest, teasing my nipples into hard peaks as he worked my shaft with firm strokes. My eyes slammed shut, my breath coming in ragged gasps. It was just the two of us, skin on skin, the sound of Larry's hand moving in rhythm with the throb of my heart.
"You like that, don't you?" Larry's voice was a low growl in my ear. “It feels good, hey?”
"Yes," I moaned, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure grew.
He chuckled again, the vibration of his chest against my back sending waves of pleasure through me. "Good boy," he said, the words sending a bolt of electricity down my spine.
I had never been with an older man before, never even considered it, but in that moment, I was putty in Larry's hands. His calloused fingers danced over my body, exploring every inch with a confidence that left me trembling. The hand on my cock grew faster, and I knew I was close to the edge.
"I want to see you come, Steve. You are going to come for me, aren't you?" Larry's breath was hot against my skin, his voice a whispered promise of release.
"Yeah," I managed to get out, my hips thrusting back into his hand.
"Do it when you are ready. Do it for me," he ordered, and after a few more strokes of his hand, I did. My orgasm hit me like a sledgehammer, my body arching as I came with a cry that echoed through the barn. Larry held me through it, his grip firm, his chest a wall of warmth against my back as I shot ropes of cum from my cock, landing on the grass, two or three feet away.
With the last dribbles of cum flowing from me, we stood there, my back learning against his chest, the only sound the harshness of my breathing as I came down from the high. Then Larry let go, and I turned to face him, my cheeks flushed and my eyes hazy with lust. He leaned in, his mouth finding mine in a surprisingly gentle kiss, given the intensity of the moment.
When we pulled apart, I couldn't read the expression on his face. It was a mix of satisfaction and something else, something deeper that made my heart race. "Thank you," I murmured.
"No, thank you," he said, his voice gruff. "You're welcome,"
Feeling the benefits of Larry’s attention, breaktime was over, as I stepped back into the water, feeling more alive than I had in years. The sun felt incredible on my bare skin, warming me in a way that the water never could. With my sexual arousal addressed, I took the rake, viewing the duckweed as a means to something new and enjoyable and not just a job to be done.
As I worked, Larry sat on the edge of the pond, watching me with an intensity that made me feel both exposed and desired. His eyes never left my body, and I found myself moving with an extra bit of flair, knowing he was enjoying the show. It was thrilling, knowing that I could make him hard with just a glance, a twist of my hips and the bobbing my erect cock that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Lunchtime came, and Larry hosed me down again, and this time we sat in the shade of an old oak tree, the sun casting dappled patterns on my naked body. Larry had brought out a cooler filled with sandwiches and cold beers, and we ate in companionable silence, the tension from before still humming in the air.
After we'd finished eating, Larry looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Why don't you come here and let me have another look at that cock of yours?" he said, licking his lips.
I couldn't resist the invitation, as I got up to stand in front of him as he remained seated on the grass. He took a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving my erection as it bobbed in front of him.
"You're a natural," he murmured, his hand reaching out to wrap around my shaft. "I've never seen anyone handle a rake quite like you and your cock, it’s truly beautiful. So long and well-proportioned and…. your slit," as he fingered the tip of my cock, playing with some precum.
His touch was like fire, sending sparks of pleasure through me as I stood, my eyes closed as he stroked me with one hand while his other was wrapped round my bottom cheek, his grip firm and sure. It didn't take long before I was on the edge again, the world narrowing down to the feeling of his hand on my cock as he continued to rub my shaft.
He kept rubbing until I couldn’t stop my body as I shot a fresh load of cum straight at Larry, only to land on his dungarees. "That’s my boy, cum for me," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We have to keep you happy, don’t we?" as he continued to milk the last remnants of fluid from me.
With a gentle slap on my bottom, he kissed the tip of my cock, saying, “that was lovely. I certainly enjoyed that. Did you enjoy it, Steve?”
“What do you think, Larry?” I responded.
“Oh, I think you more than enjoyed it, but sadly, lunch is over, and you have work to continue,” as he stood up, gently slapping my bottom again. “Go on, off you go, back in the water for the afternoon session, but don’t worry, Larry will look after you,” as he slapped me again on the other cheek.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of raking and glances, the occasional touch turning into a full-blown caress whenever Larry felt like it. By the time the sun was setting, the pond was clear, and I was exhausted, my body humming with the aftermath of multiple orgasms during the afternoon.
"Good job, Steve. The pond looks great, and I think you deserve a bath now," Larry declared. “Call it a reward for your efforts.”
"I think I do," I agreed, feeling the exhaustion settle into my bones as the adrenaline from the day's work and the thrilling moments of passion faded away. I climbed out of the pond, the cool evening air causing my skin to pebble. The thought of sinking into the warm water of a bath was heavenly.
Larry took my hand and led me to the barn, his eyes still filled with that same intense desire that had been there all afternoon. We entered a stall where a freshly filled washtub was waiting, filled with steaming hot water. The sight of it was almost too much to bear, but the promise of relief was too tempting to resist.
“Before you get in,” he said, “I want to do something for you,” as he positioned me over his knee, his hand coming down with a playful smack on my ass. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said with a chuckle, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the beginnings of another erection, the anticipation building.
As I lay over his knees like a child, he reached into the tub, his hand coming out wet and soapy. He began to stroke my cock again, his movements slow and deliberate. The feeling was exquisite, his firm grip bringing me back to the brink of climax with ease.
Then, as if he could read my mind, his other hand began to explore my body. He traced the curve of my ass before his fingers found my hole. I gasped as he pushed one in, using the soap for lubricant, the sensation foreign but incredibly erotic. He worked it in and out, his thumb playing with my tight ring as his other hand stroked my cock. The combination of sensations was driving me wild.
As he penetrated me deeper, I could feel my prostate swelling with pleasure. He found just the right spot, his fingers massaging me until I thought I would explode. The pressure built until I couldn't hold back anymore. I came with a shout, my cum spurting out and landing on Larry's dungarees again.
“That’s my boy, Steve, let it flow,” as he chuckled, the sound sending another shiver down my spine. "Looks like you've earned a proper cleaning," he said, his voice thick with lust as he pushed me from his knee. "You can sit down now in the tub while I wash you all over," his touch lingering on my sensitive skin.
As Larry washed me, his hands grew more intimate, stroking my chest and abs, his eyes lingering on my cock, which despite the recent orgasm, was already starting to harden again. He lathered me up, his hands moving in slow circles across my skin. The water was warm and soothing, the soap sliding down my body like a lover's caress.
"You know, Steve," Larry said as he washed my back, "I've been watching you all day. The way you move, the way you work... It's like poetry."
I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "Thanks, Larry," I said, leaning back into his touch. "I've kind of enjoyed the attention."
He rinsed the soap from my body, his gaze never leaving my cock. "How would you feel about giving me a little more of a show?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
My heart raced at the question. "What do you mean?"
"Well," he said, a wicked smile playing at his lips, "I've been enjoying the view, but I'd love to see you in action. Would you mind getting yourself off for me?"
The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. I'd never done anything like this before, especially not with someone so much older and in a position of power over me. But the way Larry was looking at me, the way his hand had felt on my cock earlier, I couldn't say no.
"I don't mind," I murmured, reaching for the soap.
"Good boy," he said, his eyes never leaving my face.
I nodded, my hand wrapping around my erection. The soap made my skin slick, and I began to stroke myself slowly, watching as Larry's eyes grew darker, his breath coming in short gasps. As I worked my cock, I felt a strange sense of power, the knowledge that I could make this burly farmer lose control with just my body. My strokes grew faster, the pressure building in my balls. I could feel myself getting closer, my body tightening with every pass of my hand.
"Fuck, Steve," Larry murmured, his voice a low growl. "You're so goddamn hot."
The words sent me over the edge. I came with a shout, cum arcing through the air to land in the water and Larry's hand. He caught the last few drops on his fingertips, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean.
"Now, that's what I'm talking about," he said, his voice thick with desire. "You're a natural exhibitionist."
The compliment sent a thrill through me, and I felt a strange sense of pride at his words. "Can I help you now?" I asked, my voice hopeful.
Larry's expression grew serious. "Not yet, Steve," he said, his voice firm. "This is for me, though, as he unclipped his dungarees, allowing them to drop to his ankles. He was a commando, much to my surprise, and already hard, leaking precum from the tip, which I wanted to wrap my mouth around. I nodded, though, feeling a little disappointed but also strangely turned on by the command. I watched as he stroked himself, his hand moving rapidly, his breath coming in harsh pants. It was mesmerising, watching him pleasure himself while I sat there in the tub.
Finally, with a groan, Larry came, his cum spurting out to cover my chest and stomach. He leaned back, his chest heaving with the exertion. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes closed.
"Anytime," I said, as I washed my body, feeling his cum in my fingers, hoping to taste it later.
"It's just that I've never seen anything so...beautiful," Larry continued, his eyes roving over my body as if he could devour me whole. "I can't get enough of watching you work, naked and covered in sweat, your muscles flexing with every move. Please, can you remain naked for me?"
I blushed, looking down at my dwindling erection. "What, all the time?" I asked.
"Yes, all the time and perhaps this evening I can explore your body after dinner. Would you like that?" he asked.
"I would, but what about your daughter. She might catch us when she pops round?" I asked.
"Don't worry about her," Larry said, waving a hand dismissively. "She won't be back until tomorrow. Besides, we can always hear her pickup from a mile away."
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves at the prospect of spending the evening with Larry in such an intimate way. "Okay," I agreed, my voice a little shaky as I stood in the tub, allowing Larry to dry me with a towel.
Still naked but at least dry, I walked with Larry back to the farmhouse for dinner, which was a blur of anticipation, the food tasting almost bland compared to the heady mix of desire and trepidation that filled me. We talked about the farm, the crops, and the weather, but every so often, Larry's hand would brush against my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through me. After we finished eating, Larry cleared his throat. "I've got a little something for you," he said, his voice low.
He disappeared into the house for a moment before returning with a small box. He handed it to me with a knowing smile. "Open it," he urged.
My hands trembled as I lifted the lid, revealing the gleaming prostate massager nestled in velvet. "It's got different settings," he said, his eyes glued to my face as I picked it up. "Let's see if you can handle them all."
The night was warm, the air thick with the scent of lavender and the distant sound of crickets serenading us. Larry's hand was gentle as he guided me to the edge of the porch, the wooden boards cool against my bare skin. "Lie down," he said, his voice a gentle command.
I did as told, feeling the anticipation build as he knelt beside me, the massager in his hand. He turned it on, the buzzing sound a promise of pleasure to come. He traced it along my thigh, watching as goosebumps rose on my skin.
"Just relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing over my hole. "Let me take care of you."
The first touch of the massager was like a bolt of lightning, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through me. Larry worked it in slowly, the lubricant doing its job, his eyes never leaving mine as I moaned and squirmed under his touch. He moved it in and out, exploring my body with a gentle insistence that had me begging for more.
The setting changed, the vibrations growing more intense. My body responded, arching off the porch as Larry hit that perfect spot, the one that had me seeing stars. "Fuck," I gasped, my eyes squeezed shut.
He chuckled, his breath warm on my skin. "You're doing so well," he said, his voice a soothing balm to the fire that was building inside me. "Let's try another one."
The next setting was even more intense, the massager pulsing in time with my heartbeat. As he worked the toy inside me, I could feel my orgasm building, a crescendo that seemed to go on forever. When it finally crashed over me, I screamed his name, my body shaking with the force of it.
Larry leaned back, his chest heaving. "You're incredible," he murmured, his hand still resting on my hip.
I looked up at him as he smiled with enjoyment. "I'm going to start again, and this time I'm going to leave it on as you lie there because I'm going to watch as it massages your prostate non-stop for the next hour. You will experience multiple orgasms, and I want to see if it's true what they say in the marketing material I read," Larry explained.
“Multiple orgasms?” I exclaimed, my breath already shallow. “How many are you talking about?”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Larry suggested as he inserted it into me again, turning it on.
Larry sat back in his chair, his eyes glued to my body as I lay there, exposed and vulnerable, with a raging erection waiting to explode. The first orgasm hit me like a wave, my back arching off the porch as pleasure consumed me. It didn't stop, the vibrations unrelenting, and soon I was riding another peak, my muscles tensing and releasing in a symphony of ecstasy.
"Keep going," Larry said as I panted, my body already on the edge of overstimulation as I moaned and groaned to the sensation I was experiencing. Orgasm after orgasm crashed over me, each one more powerful than the last, until I was nothing but a quivering mess, cum plastered all over my chest and stomach. Some cum had reached to my head and hair. Cum dribbling down onto my lips, forcing me to taste my cum which was pleasant and warm.
"Larry, please," I begged, my voice hoarse. "I can't take anymore. Please stop it."
He chuckled, his hand finally stilling. "Look at you," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "You're beautiful and covered in cum."
I lay there, panting, my body a mess of sensations. Larry removed the massager, and I felt the cool evening air kiss my skin where it had been. "How was that?" he asked, his eyes searching my face for a reaction.
"A-amazing," I managed to croak out. "I've never felt anything like that before."
He nodded, a proud smile playing at his lips. "Good," he said, patting my bottom. "Now, let's get you into the barn because I want you. I desire you and I want to fuck you."
I smiled in anticipation as we walked towards the barn, my legs feeling like jelly, and my heart racing with the promise of what the night might hold. As we entered the dimly lit space, Larry turned to me, his eyes dark with desire. "You're mine tonight, Steve," he said, his voice low and rough. "And I plan on making you scream, so you see those hay bales, bend over them."
Larry unclipped his dungarees and pulled off his t-shirt to stand naked and ready as I bent over the hay bale and waited for him.
He lubricated his cock with a generous amount of lube, his hand stroking himself with confidence. "Ready, Steve?" His voice was a gentle rumble behind me, the anticipation in his tone unmistakable.
I nodded, my body already trembling with need. "Yes, Larry," I murmured.
He stepped closer, his cock pressing against my still sensitive hole. He pushed in gently, taking his time as he breached my body. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that had me gripping the hay in front of me.
As he filled me, I felt my muscles relax, my body accepting him without protest. His movements grew stronger, his hips slapping against my ass as he found a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me. Each thrust was met with a whimper that grew into a moan, the pleasure building in waves that crashed over me, one after the other.
Larry's hand found my cock, his grip firm and sure. He stroked in time with his thrusts, the dual sensation sending me spiralling. My legs trembled, threatening to give out, but Larry held me firmly in place, his hand on my hip, his other hand working my cock with a skill that left me breathless.
I could feel him getting closer, his breath hot on my neck as he grunted with effort. The smell of sex and sweat filled the air, the sound of our bodies coming together a symphony of desire.
With a final, deep push, Larry let out a roar, his cum filling me as I experienced a dry orgasm. With a few more thrusts, he finished releasing his seed into me, and we remained like that for a moment, both of us panting and shaking, our bodies joined in a way that felt more intimate than anything I had ever experienced.
As he pulled out, I collapsed onto the floor, my legs giving out beneath me. Larry chuckled, his hand reaching out to help me up. "You're a natural," he murmured, his eyes shining with pride.
I couldn't help but smile, the pleasure still pulsing through me. "Thank you," I said, my voice a little shaky.
He tugged me into a standing position, his arms wrapping around me from behind. "No, thank you, Steve," he whispered into my ear. "You're a beautiful young man who has made me very happy, and I want to take you to bed."
The night grew late, the moon casting a soft glow over the farm. We lay in Larry's bed, our naked bodies tangled together, the scent of our lovemaking still lingering. His chest rose and fell against my back, his arm heavy around my waist. I felt safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by the passion that had unfurled between us.
As sleep began to claim me, Larry's voice broke the silence. "You know, I've never felt like this before," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You make me feel alive again."
I rolled over to face him, my hand tracing the line of his jaw. "Neither have I," I admitted. "But I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed me softly, his eyes searching mine. "Good," he murmured. "Because I want you every day, every night."
The promise in his voice was like a warm blanket, wrapping me in a cocoon of desire and comfort. As we drifted off into the night, the future stretching out before us like a warm, inviting horizon, I knew that this summer on the farm was going to be unlike any other I had ever experienced.
But the next morning, the idyllic scene was shattered when I woke up early, my body still humming with the aftermath of our passion. Larry was still snoring softly, one arm thrown over his eyes. I slipped out of bed, eager to start the day and prepare breakfast for both of us. I was in the kitchen, my morning wood standing at attention, dried cum evident on my chest and stomach, when I heard the sound of footsteps on the porch.
The kitchen door swung open, and in walked a woman in her thirties carrying a pile of folded laundry. She took one look at me and screamed, "What the fuck?" Her eyes were wide with shock as they raked over my naked form. "Who the fuck are you?" she demanded, her voice shrill with outrage.
I stumbled backwards, my hand flying to cover myself, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"I-I'm Steve," I stammered. "I'm just, uh, making breakfast."
"Why the fuck are you naked?" she shouted, as she held the pile of clothes. "What's going on here? Are you sleeping with my father?"
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn't speak. Then I realised the absurdity of the situation and the potential for misunderstanding. "No, no," I blurted out. "It's not what you think. Larry and I have been working on the pond, and we just got a bit...carried away with the heat and...I guess you must be Loretta"
Loretta's expression didn't soften, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You'd better not be messing with him," she said, her voice low and menacing. "He's been through enough."
I felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that she was referring to her mother's death. "I'm not," I assured her. "We've just become close."
Larry stumbled naked into the room before I could answer her, his eyes bleary with sleep. He took in the scene, his face flushing a deep red as he realised what Loretta had just walked in on. "Good morning, Loretta, and it's okay," he said, his voice gruff. "Steve's just been helping me out around here."
Loretta looked between us, her gaze lingering on the position of my hands, trying hard to cover myself, and then looking at her father’s naked form. "So, you two are an item, I take it," she snarled before putting the pile of laundry on the table.
Larry sighed, running a hand through his greying hair. "Yeah, sort of, Loretta," he said. "I didn't expect you so early, otherwise we would have been prepared."
“You mean dressed, I take it, Dad,” Loretta said.
“Probably, yes,” he responded.
“Well, since I’m here now, I think an introduction is in order,” Loretta said, looking at me. "I assume you are the Fruit of the Loom wearer since Dad wears Hanes briefs."
I couldn't help the nervous chuckle that bubbled out of me. "Nice to meet you," I said, extending a hand. She glared at it before tossing me a pair of tighty whities she had taken from the pile of laundry. "Thanks," I mumbled, slipping them on with a sense of urgency.
"Alright," she said, her voice tight. "But you two are going to have to explain yourselves," as she tossed a pair of Hanes briefs to her father.
Larry cleared his throat, looking at me with a mix of apology and amusement. "Loretta, this is Steve," he said, his tone gentle. "He's been working with me on the farm this summer, and yesterday he was clearing the duckweed from the pond and as he was short of underwear, I suggested he work naked in the water and...one thing led to another, and we discovered our mutual attraction for each other."
Loretta's eyes flicked from her father to me and back again, her expression a storm of emotions. "Jesus, Dad," she said, her voice tight. "Could you have picked someone a little less...wet behind the ears? Don't get me wrong, Steve, you have a bloody wonderful body, but, seriously, how old are you?"
I swallowed hard, the tension in the room thick as molasses. "Twenty-two," I admitted, feeling more exposed than ever.
Loretta's eyes widened. "You're joking," she said, her voice incredulous. "You're half my age, let alone his age."
Larry's gaze was firm as he met her eyes. "I'm not," he said. "And age doesn't matter when it comes to love and....I think I might be in love."
Loretta's expression shifted from shock to something softer, though still tinged with concern. "Dad," she began, her voice gentler. "You know I just want you to be happy, but are you sure this isn't just...I don't know, a rebound or something?"
Larry stepped closer to me, his hand resting on my shoulder. "I've never felt like this before, Loretta," he said, his voice firm. "Steve's not just some kid; he's a hard worker and a good man. And yes, maybe it's fast, but I have developed feelings for him, I guess."
"Well, Dad, I tell you what, let's have a cup of coffee and I shall tidy up the house and... put your laundry away, but where shall I put yours, Steve? In dad's room or your cabin?"
I blushed deeply. "I guess, uh, my cabin?"
Loretta nodded. "Alright, I'll get it sorted," she said, her tone softer now. "You two sit down and talk."
With that, she shooed us out of the kitchen like a couple of schoolboys caught smoking in the bathroom. Larry and I exchanged a look, a mix of amusement and awkwardness playing across his features. We sat on the porch, the early morning sun casting long shadows over the farm as Loretta became a domestic goddess, swinging into action tidying up, making the beds and putting our laundry away.
"I guess we should talk," Larry said, his hand resting on my thigh.
"Yeah," I murmured, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry she had to find out like that."
Larry's hand squeezed my thigh reassuringly. "It's not your fault," he said. "I should've told her sooner."
"Did you mean what you said about developing feelings for me?" I asked Larry.
"Yes," Larry responded, his voice steady and sure. "I know it's fast, but I can't help how I feel. You've brought a light to this old farm that's been missing for a long time, and the sex is fantastic, I have to confess."
I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all I saw was a raw, unfiltered hunger. "Okay," I said, my heart racing. "But what happens when the summer ends? What if people in town find out?"
"Let's not worry about that now," Larry said, his hand moving up to cup my cheek. "Let's just enjoy what we have while we can. Besides, I've got a feeling that people around here might be more understanding than you think."
At that point, Loretta joined us with a tray of coffee. "How's it going, Dad. Worked out if it's a summer fling or something more?"
Larry took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. "We're still figuring that out," he said, his voice firm. "But I do know that I care for Steve, and I want to see where this goes."
Loretta nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders visibly easing. "Okay," she said. "But just remember, Dad, that I'm here for you, no matter what happens and also remember that Mum always knew about you and your tastes, and she shared it with me, so you don't have to hide things either. It was a shock arriving today, but I'm cool now."
"I appreciate that, Loretta," Larry said, his eyes warm with gratitude. "And I promise we'll be careful and respectful."
Loretta nodded, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Good," she said. "Because I can't have people thinking my Dad is a man-whore." winking at me while taking a sip of coffee.
As we talked, I couldn't help but feel the heat rising in my cheeks as Larry's hand remained on my thigh. The warmth from his touch seemed to spread through me, pooling in my groin. The scent of the brewing coffee filled the air, mixing with the lingering scent of our passion from the night before. For some unknown reason, I started to feel aroused. Was it the caffeine rushing through my veins or the electricity of Larry's touch? It didn't matter; my cock began to swell in the confines of my tighty whities.
Loretta's gaze flicked downward, and she couldn't help but notice my growing erection tenting the fabric. Her eyes widened for a brief moment before she took a sip of her coffee. Clearing her throat afterwards, she set her coffee aside and stood up. "Well, I've got some chores to do," she said, her voice a little too bright. "I shall see you later," as she walked towards her pickup to drive home.
As her taillights disappeared over the hill, Larry turned to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I believe I made a promise," he murmured, his hand sliding up my thigh to the elastic of the thigh band of my tighty whities.
I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips as he began to stroke my cock through the thin barrier of fabric. My body was already primed from the events of the night, and his touch sent me spiralling. "Larry," I whispered, my voice thick with need.
"Shh," he soothed, his voice low and intimate. "Let's not keep our little secret hidden any longer." With a swift motion, he turned me around and pulled down my tighty whities, exposing my hard cock to the cool morning air. He knelt in front of me, his eyes locked with mine as he took me in his mouth.
The sensation was exquisite, his mouth hot and wet around me as he worked me with a skill that left me trembling. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging in as he took me deeper, his erection pressing against his Hanes briefs. The sounds of his sucking mingled with the chirping of the birds and the distant low of cattle, creating a symphony of passion that seemed to resonate through the very air of the farm.
Larry stood up and pulled me to the porch railing. "Bend over," he instructed, his voice gruff with desire. I complied, the wood rough against my bare skin as pushed down his Hanes briefs and grabbing from lube, Larry smeared it on his cock.
He stepped up behind me, his cock pressing against my ass, and without preamble, he pushed in. I gasped, the sensation of him filling me again sending shivers down my spine. His hands were firm on my hips, his breath hot against my neck as he began to move, his thrusts strong and steady.
The world outside the porch faded away, and all that remained was the sound of our bodies coming together, the scent of sex in the air, and the feeling of Larry's cock moving inside me. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure, a moment where all my fears and worries were replaced with the overwhelming need for more.
As he moved within me, Larry leaned in, his teeth grazing my earlobe. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice filled with possession. "All mine."
The words sent me over the edge, my orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave. I felt him tense, his climax following closely behind, and with a groan, he emptied himself inside me as I continued to shoot my seed onto the grass below the porch.
Although it was a quickie, we remained there, panting and spent, as the reality of our situation sank in. The farm was ours, the future was uncertain, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection between us. Larry's hand reached around, gently stroking my cock, milking the last drops of cum from me.
As we pulled apart, we shared a knowing smile. This was just the beginning of our journey, and we were ready to face whatever came our way, together.
"What shall we do today, Steve?" Larry asked, his voice teasing as we stood on the porch, Larry's arms wrapped around me as my back leaned into his chest, looking at the dust settling from Loretta's hasty drive down the track.
"I don't know Larry. Sex, sex and sex would be nice, but..."
"Steve, I'm not just about sex," he chuckled, slapping my ass lightly. "But I do have an idea."
Larry's grip tightened around my waist as he leaned in to whisper into my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "How about we go for a ride?" he suggested. "I've got some land on the other side of the farm that's perfect for a little...exploration."
I nodded eagerly, my heart racing with excitement. It felt like we had been given the green light to indulge in our desires without fear of judgment. We both knew that we had a limited amount of time together, and we were determined to make the most of it.
After I had cleaned up and dressed, Larry led me to the stables where two horses were waiting, saddled and ready to go. He tossed me the reins to a beautiful chestnut mare, her eyes bright with curiosity as she snuffled my hand. "This is Bessie," he said. "She's a good girl."
We rode out into the early morning light, the air still cool and fresh with dew. The farm was a patchwork quilt of greens and golds, the crops waving in the gentle breeze. As we rode, Larry pointed out different areas of the farm, explaining his plans and dreams for the land. It was clear that he loved this place with every fibre of his being, and I found myself falling a little more in love with him with every word he spoke.
