The Farm Boys of Jasper County

I remember the first time I saw Eric. It was the summer of 2015 and dad and I were pulling into Mr. Henderson’s place over in Pineville. It’s a community I had never been in before, located in the northwest corner of the county while we lived along the eastern edge to the south along the Black Water River. Like our community it was mostly farms, the big difference was our area had road improvements over the years that eliminated the old dirt roads while Pineville was still mostly dirt roads. The population was a lot smaller, much of the land in pine for one of the nearby paper mills, and in turn poorer.

Mr. Henderson and dad had gone to high school together and crossed paths at the tractor dealership, catching up on old times at the parts counter, or at the grain elevator when delivering one crop or another. I had met him only a few times, once when he had Ethan with him, his oldest son. Ethan was two years older than I and was short and stocky like his dad, the perfect build for the football team at Northview, the county school he attended. He had been wearing a jersey when we crossed paths in the general store over in Century, a 4-way stop and one general store community.

I had looked upon Ethan the same way I did all boys. Secretly judging his looks and personality, wondering how popular he was with the girls, not daring to linger on the real reason for my appraisal of them. Ethan was attractive, but not in a way that really captured my attention. He was too gruff in manner for one thing. So, over the next couple of years he was no longer a memory. The fact he had a younger brother came as a surprise.

Dad had agreed to help with some planting of soybeans for Mr. Henderson, which was why dad pulled in driving the 6430 with the planter and I in the 8130 with the disk folded up behind me. I was to disk the fields first, which is why I was in the larger tractor with its dual rear wheels. Getting down the drive at Mr. Henderson’s place had been a little unnerving, dad standing to the side motioning which way to steer to squeeze the tractor and disk through the gate.

We pulled down next to the barn, an old gray weather structure, open on two sides revealing tractors far smaller and older. Dad climbed out and met Mr. Henderson at the barn. I stayed seated where the air conditioner kept me comfortable, for it was a hot humid day and I could see gray clouds of gnats hovering around the yard. I watched the two men talk, gesture toward the fields, point toward the barn, then stand with arms folded, just talking.

I sensed motion to my side and turned to see an old Chevy truck ease along beside of me. I was too high to see the driver as they parked next to me. The driver’s door swung open and he stepped out. Tall, lanky, and obviously a son. I remember what Ethan had looked like, with black hair and a dark skin tone, for this boy had the same, just in a different build. He looked young and later I would find out he was fourteen, two years younger than I, which at that age seemed to be huge difference in age.

I watched the boy amble over to our dads. Mr. Henderson introduced him, then motioned toward the old truck then at the barn. They talked for less than a minute and the boy was coming back toward the truck. I could see him more clearly and found myself leaning on the steering wheel looking at him, studying him. ‘He’s cute’ I thought then felt embarrassed to be looking at a younger boy. He glanced up and gave me a quick wave and I saw his t-shirt ride up revealing a narrow waist, the skin as dark as that exposed. It wasn’t a tan.

He climbed into the truck and pulled down to the barn, backing up to the most enclosed side where I could not see within. I watched him till he disappeared inside the dark barn. When I looked around dad was pulling away in the other tractor.

I followed him to the field that wrapped around the barn, from one side around to the rear. It looked to be sixty acres or so and recently plowed. I knew the first thing to do was get it disked. Dad pulled off to the side, parking near a tree and waited on me to pull up. He climbed up and stood in the open door of the cab.

“Son, go ahead and get started in this field. Mr. Henderson said to start on that side” pointing to the far fence line to the north, “for that is wet ground and we need to get it done. It could rain tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll help you get the disk set up then go back and help them load the seed.”

He shut the door and climbed down and I eased into the field and watched dad remove the safety pins. Standing back clear, he watched as I lowered the outer sections of the disk, then came up and secured them in place. A hand up, motioning for me to go, and he was walking back toward the barn. I put the tractor in gear, lowered the disk to the ground and throttled up to speed, cutting along the edge of the field heading to the north side.

Dad came around about a half an hour later, time enough for me to get a section disked twice and ready for planting. Following behind him was Mr. Henderson in the old truck, seed bags stacked high in the bed. I was heading toward them so could watch as they loaded the planter then make some adjustments. Dad climbed into cab and start the process of planting.

Mr. Henderson pulled to the edge of the field under a tree and watched as we made our way across the field. We worked our way across till the sun was low in the west, just above the treetops and mom was coming toward us in dad’s truck to give us a ride home. It was time to stop for the day.

It was still dark, the sun not yet risen, and dad and I were headed back across the county to Mr. Henderson’s place. It was a forty-minute drive and the only vehicles we passed were other farmers getting an early start the same as us. I leaned back in the seat still sleepy wondering why we were doing this. We had been busting ass for weeks getting our own beans planted and now we were driving across the county to plant someone else’s crop.

“Why are we doing this?” I finally asked as dad turned on 39 heading west.

“Son, Tom has been having a hard time. His best tractor is down and his wife, Carol has to go to Birmingham for cancer treatments.”

“Oh.”

“He originally asked me to just disk his fields, that Eric could plant them.”

“Eric?”

“The youngest boy. You met him yesterday.”

“I saw him, but we didn’t speak.”

“Well, the boy isn’t as good at farming as Ethan, but he’s overseas in the Army. I told Tom we’d do both the disking and planting, and that will let Eric do some repainting inside the house while Carol is in Birmingham.”

“How long will Mr. and Mrs. Henderson be gone?”

“A week, I think. Maybe longer.”

“And Eric will stay by himself the whole time?”

“He’s fourteen and…”

“Fourteen? You wouldn’t let me stay alone when I was that age.”

“You never needed to. And he’ll prepare our lunch while we are there.”

“Peanut butter and jelly?” I asked, giving dad a mischievous grin.

He looked back at me and smile one in return, “and you’d be lucky to get it.”

For the remainder of the drive I thought about the situation with the Henderson’s and Eric having to take care of himself for at least a week. I wondered if I could do it.

The sun cleared the horizon as we pulled into the field. Within a few minutes we were fueled and back into it. For the next few hours we made our way across. I came to the south edge around eleven and pulled out of the field and walked over to meet dad about where to start next; the next field to our south or the one in back.

I stood under a tree along the edge of the field waiting on dad to make it back across when I saw Eric approaching in the old Chevy truck. He bounced along the edge slowly coming our way. Dad arrived at the end as Eric pulled up and I found myself waiting for them to approach.

“Eric?”

“Yeah, and you’re Keith?”

“Yes. I was just going to ask dad if we were to do that field over there,” the one to our south, “or go to the one in back.”

“I would do that one” Eric replied pointing to the adjacent field. Dad came up just then and I asked him.

“We’ll do that one first and head to the back last. The back field will take longer. It’s 184 acres.”

“I came out to tell you lunch would be ready in about forty-five minutes, to come on up to the house about then” said Eric.

“Thanks, we’ll be up at that time” dad replied, and Eric climbed back into the old truck and drove away. Back in the tractor, starting the other field as dad wrapped up planting in the first one, I though about Eric. Too young but then again…

On one hand, he looked young, really young, for he had a such a babyface. But something about the way he carried himself, suddenly in charge of the place, he seemed older than me in some ways. And the fact he was taller than I was, and two years younger didn’t help.

Around a quarter till noon dad and I made our way up to the back door and inside the small house, coming straight into the kitchen. Eric was putting plates and silverware around the small table that sat to one side and on the stove, we saw a Dutch oven and a boiler and from the smell it was some sort of roast and beans. Eric told us to wash up and take a seat as he went to the range and pulled out a baking pan of mac and cheese, the top perfectly browned. I felt my appetite grow more intense from the smell.

In the bathroom, dad washing his hands as I stood at the door waiting, he looked over and smiled.

“Disappointed?”

“What?”

“I didn’t see any peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“Very funny” I replied as the two of us laughed. “I can’t believe he prepared all of that?”

“Tom said he could cook, did it when Carol couldn’t.”

Eric didn’t talk much, the worry about his mom evident on his face. We ate quickly with dad doing most of the talking. I didn’t know what to say and dad kept the conversation simple; the farm, how long it’d take us and what Eric was going to do when he graduated.

Across the table from Eric I tried not to stare at him, diverting my eyes whenever he looked up. He was such a cute guy I could not stop looking. I wondered if he dated. He had to with his looks. Girls had to be hitting on him constantly.  When we finally finished eating, I was relived and disappointed. I wanted to stay around him but felt scared to do so. I knew eventually I’d give myself away.

And thus, it went over the next few days. Eric and I began to talk more to each other, about video games, movies, college football and what there was do around Pineville. I wouldn’t say we became best friends over those few days, for the age difference seemed to loom over every conversation about the things we liked to do. I drove into Greenville on weekends to hang out and he rode a bike around the community during the day but never went anywhere at night. It was a difference we both felt.

When we finished the planting and went home, that was it. The end of my seeing Eric, till two years later.

June 2017

We were free. Or that is what we thought, having just graduated high school. We were free of grade school and were now adults able to make our own decisions. How naïve we were. But within our innocence and naivety we celebrated the night of graduation at Sam’s place, a big bonfire in the pasture and hanging out till the sun came up the next morning.

Over the course of the next two weeks, reality began to creep in, to erode our naïve notions. We saw four of our classmates leave for the military and three more going through the process of enlistment. There were several preparing for college in the fall, visiting the colleges and filling out the paperwork for classes and dorms. There were others out looking for work, desperately searching for something to support themselves. And there were a few of us who were staying on family farms, working the land as our fathers and grandfathers had done. Dad and I had already planned on my remaining, to become another household supported by the farm, which entailed us enlarging our acreage. It was easy enough, for there were other farms losing the next generation, farmers who pushed their children not to follow in their footsteps or those who chose on their own. There were two farms put up for sale that spring and we had purchased four fields from those two auctions.

When the next weekend arrived a few of us decided to drive to Lexington for a movie. It was nearest town of any size, located across the river to the north. With the interstate highway nearby and two factories on the outskirts of town, it had more retail, restaurants and other businesses than any of the towns close to home, such as Greenville to our south. For the five of us, Mike, Susan, Kathy, Sam and myself, the cinema was the most important thing there. A place to go even if the weather was bad, and that Saturday, it was a drizzling rain that lasted all weekend.

When the action flick ended, we came out into the lobby waiting on the girls. They had all headed to the bathroom as soon as the credits rolled onto the screen. Sam and I were sitting at a table, phones in hand texting others about the movie when I looked up and saw him.

Eric was heading out with two other boys, and I watched them cross the lobby heading toward the door. I wanted to call out to him, let him know I was there, but then felt foolish for it. It’d been a long time since we spoke and with him still a kid in school, it seemed wrong to do so. I knew that was silly, that to speak to someone wasn’t wrong, but I knew there was more to it. He looked taller and more filled out, but still lanky in build. And his hair was grown out long, messed up in a trendy way. But what stood out more was the clothes he wore. Black t-shirt and faded jeans that fit tight, accentuating his long legs. On his feet were black boots, the jeans tucked inside them revealing the way they came up to his calves, laced all the way up. And the two boys with him were dressed even more in some gothic fashion, with black pants and shirts, chains hanging from their waist.

“You looking at those freaks?” said Sam and I saw he was watching them too.

“Huh…oh yeah. I know the tall one. The one in blue jeans.”

“Really. Who is he?”

“Eric…Eric Henderson. He lives in Pineville. Our dads know each other, and we helped them a couple of years ago with planting soybeans.”

“That kid lives on a farm? Doesn’t look like it.”

“Well, what are we supposed to look like?” I asked, voice low, not really caring if Sam heard my question or not.

As the door closed behind Eric and his friends, the girls walked up ready to leave. We ambled out into the night, drizzling rain still falling. We stood under the canopy, talking about going to this all-night diner in town while looking across the parking lot at how far out we were parked.

“Keith?”

I heard my name but for a moment didn’t realize it was coming from behind me, and not from one of our group.

“Keith, how have you been?”

I turned as saw Eric standing behind me, his two friends nowhere in sight.

“Good…and you?”

“Things are good.”

“I heard your mom is in remission.”

“Yes. It was scary for a while. You graduated this year, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and you’re in eleventh grade next fall?”

“Yep, two more years of that hell.”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt Keith, but we’re going to head on to The Wooden Table” said Sam as he motioned toward the girls already heading to their cars.

“I guess we’re going for some food. You want to come along?”

“Really? I’d like that. I wasn’t ready to head home just yet.”

The way he said it, the tone he used and his body language showing his hesitation made me wonder what was up. I didn’t really know his parents, or what it was like for him. I’d heard dad talking about how Ethan had left the military and moved out west somewhere, so the farm was left in Eric hands to help his dad.

The diner was crowded, every booth along the front window taken, the counter full as well. We found ourselves at a table in back, in the corner. Eric sat between Kathy and I, with Sam on her other side. After introductions, we talked about the movie and gave the waitress our orders. I could tell the others were curious about Eric and it was Kathy who asked about him first.

“You like this goth look?”

“Not really. I like black as a color but not as any kind of statement. My friends are into the goth scene, what there is of it.”

“Can’t imagine there are many of them in Pineville” said Sam.

“Oh, they’re not from Pineville. They live here, in Lexington.”

“How do you know them?” asked Susan.

“Online…social media. We like some of the same books and music and…” and he hesitated, unsure what to say, then smiled as he continued, “we’re kind of the outcast. I guess you figured that much out.”

“Bullied at school?” asked Kathy.

“Steve and John have been, but I haven’t. I guess everyone at my school knows me enough to leave me alone” Eric replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“How do you two know each other?” asked Kathy, and I listened to Eric tell them the same thing I told Sam earlier.

With him beside me it was easier not to look at him. All I had to do was look at my plate and across the table at the others. But I looked. Cutting my eyes whenever he was talking, pretending to be really interested in what he said, when it was the opportunity to look at him that I was taking advantage.

After our late dinner, we huddled on the sidewalk, relieved the rain had finally stopped. Everything was wet, glistening in the lights around the parking lot and the wind was blowing harder.

“We’re heading home” said Kathy as Mike, Susan and her waved goodbye.

“I’ll call you later” said Sam as he walked out to his truck.

“I guess I need to get going too” said Eric, but he hesitated to step off the sidewalk.

“Hey, glad you could join us. It’s been a while and I’m surprised by how…”

“How I what?”

“I don’t know. Changed?”

“Maybe this is the real me. I don’t feel different.”

“I guess so” I replied, laughing with a discomfort I couldn’t name. “I’ll see you around.”

I began to move across the parking lot, heading toward my old truck when he called out.

“Keith!”

“Yeah?”

“You want to hang out sometime?”

“I…”

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m just some school kid.”

“No, it’s not like that…it’s just…the farm and…”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you around” Eric replied, then turned and headed toward the familiar old Chevy truck.

I stood in the parking lot watching him leave, unsure what I had just done. It felt all wrong, on so many levels. He was only sixteen and still in school. And I was looking for something else. For something much more serious than a friend. Someone more of an outsider than some goth kids dressed in black. As I drove away, heading home, I wondered what Eric was looking for. What he really wanted from me. Just a friend, I assumed, but the thought of something more creep into my mind. I let the image form, knowing I shouldn’t do it.

The problem was I found him attractive. Extremely attractive, with that messy mop of black hair and tall lean body, one I wouldn’t be surprised if it were revealed to be muscular, like a runner or swimmer. His black t-shirt had appeared too small, skintight in the way it fit. And those long legs. I imagined them rubbing along my own, or against my chest or…

The sordid thoughts just kept coming as I drove home. But he was too young, sixteen versus my eighteen. It seemed like such a huge difference in age, one that would diminish over time. But in time where would life take him. Probably not anywhere in Jasper County, if he didn’t stay on his family’s farm.

The next day Susan called me and the first thing she asked threw me for a loop. It was one thing to disparage him as being different. That I could handle, knowing my own secret, one that made me different in other ways. It was another for Susan to ask if Eric was dating anyone. Was he single?

I stammered at the question, unsure how to respond. Then I answered truthfully, for I really didn’t know.

“I’m not sure. We don’t see each other often and it hasn’t come up.”

“Do you have his number?”

“No…no, I don’t.”  I didn’t have it, never even asked for it. It seemed to be asking for a connection to him I couldn’t endure.

“He’s on social media, right?”

“Yeah, I’m sure he is. That is how he met his two friends from Lexington.”

“Eric Anderson?”

“No, it’s Eric Henderson.”

“Thanks”, and she hung up. Nothing else. Not how are you or are you having a good day or are you gay and feeling alone. Nothing.

And yes, I was feeling alone, more so than I had in a long time.

A hydraulic hose busted, sending oil everywhere, but mostly spraying the back of the tractor. It took me over an hour to get most of it off, going through a bottle of glass cleaner and two rolls of paper towels. I was in the field and a hose bibb wasn’t anywhere nearby. I checked the maintenance manual for the part number, hopped in my truck and headed to town to the tractor dealership.

It had been nearly two weeks since the night in Lexington and Sam had called the night before about all of us going to eat in Greenville. Someone had opened a new bar-be-cue joint on the south side of town and word spreading around it was good. I looked at my watch and realized I had just enough time to drive into town, get the part and get back to the field. That gave me half an hour to get it installed before I needed to head home to clean up.

The parking lot has the usual assortment of trucks and SUVs scattered in spaces near the front and along the side near the door to the parts department. Located in back between sales and the shop, only a single door with a window in it indicated it was inside. I swung into an empty space and headed for the door. I glanced at the trucks parked along the building wondering if I knew any of them. I saw Mr. McKinley’s new Ford right in front of the door and two down from it, a familiar old Chevy. My heart skipped a beat as I wondered if it would be Eric or his father.

Mr. Henderson was at the counter, leaned over, looking closely at the part lying there. I heard him ask it is was the right part and the guy behind the counter reply about some part number. I was disappointed for Eric was nowhere to be seen. I moved up behind Mr. Henderson waiting for my turn when I heard a can of soda being popped open. Looking down the small corridor where the vending machines sat, I saw Eric coming toward me. He smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Hey Eric.”

“Keith, you broke down too?”

“Yep. A hydraulic hose burst.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Nothing much. Just working.”

“Same here. I think I’m actually ready for school to start” Eric replied.

“Hey, did Susan get in touch with you?”

“Who?”

“Susan. She was in my class and was with us at the movies a couple of weekends ago.”

“Oh, her. Yeah, she hit me up on social media, but I declined her request. How did you know?”

“She called me wanting your number. I didn’t have it, of course, so she was going to search for you online.”

“Well, I’m not interested.”

“Eric; let’s go. Hey Keith. How’s your dad?” said Mr. Henderson after turning to us.

“He’s good.”

“Tell him hello. Come on Eric.”

“See you around” said Eric as he followed his dad out. He looked like there was something he wanted to say, but he hurried out the door behind his dad.

I wondered if I should have tried to be friendlier with him, maybe invite him over or something. Then I wondered why he turned down Susan and the reason I hoped to be true fueled my daydreaming for the rest of the day.  I didn’t realize it then, but it would be nearly two years before I saw Eric again.

Life on the farm kept me busy. We expanded the farm one more time when the Millers over on Farm Pond Road sold their place. Dad bought the ninety-acre field behind their home place. Mr. Simpson bought the hundred acres across the road and I bought their home and barn. It was my first real step toward independence.

For months I renovated the house, putting in a new (and smaller) kitchen, new windows, removed one wall opening the living room to the dining room, and repainting the exterior and interior. But most of my time was spent in one field or another, and to add to my responsibilities I bought a few head of cattle, putting them on pasture I leased from Mr. Hill just down the road. On the way to and from the fields I could stop and check on them, giving them fresh hay or feed and making sure the water was refilling the trough. And I began to search online for other men.

I hesitated for weeks in meeting anyone, the blind nature of it something I wasn’t sure about. But my loneliness grew larger and one night, it nearly midnight, I hit send on a reply agreeing to meet up.

The next Saturday night I drove to Greenville then crossed the river into Madison County, heading to Blountstown. I followed the directions Greg gave me, going into the small town, only two blocks long, and turned south, heading back out into the countryside. I came to the two-story farmhouse on the left and at the next drive saw the red barn and I slowed looking for the next one that cut along the pasture opposite the main home place. It was as described, a narrow two rut lane that cut into the woods. I eased down along the lane till I came to a small clearing where a mobile home sat. In front was parked an old Ford truck with a flat bed and to the side under one of those metal carports sat a Mustang, one about ten years old, but looking all shiny in the glare of my headlights.

As I approached the front door it swung open revealing the silhouette of a man.

“Greg?”

“Yeah, and you must be Keith. Come on in.”

Greg was a few years older, his body more filled out, stocky. He was about my height, maybe shorter, but the thing that stood out was his farm boy looks. I almost laughed how he looked so much like the trope of this image of a farm boy so many online possessed. Blonde, blue eyes, freckles across his cheeks and nose. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and nothing about him spoke to being gay. That is when I realized he was more nervous than I. He was fidgety, hands working together, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Can I get you something to drink? Coke? Beer?

“Water would be good.”

He went into the small kitchen at the end of the mobile home pulling down a glass and filling it from a pitcher in the refrigerator. I looked around the room. Family photos on the wall; a man and woman with two boys and girl looked back. The younger boy was Greg. The room was neat, but it didn’t feel lived in. Everything in its place, too perfect and I knew his mother had done the decorating, what little there was in the room.

“Here ya go” said Greg holding out the water.

We sat on the sofa, and for a moment I wondered what was next. Watch some television? Talk a bit to get to know one another?

Greg moved next to me and became aggressive, kissing me quickly, roughly. At first, I hesitated, held back, but the contact, this first real contact was so desperately desired, I kissed him back. We fumbled with out clothes till naked, and Greg pulled me down on top of him on the sofa.

“Fuck me. Come on, Keith, stick me” Greg pleaded, and I felt his hand take me, guide me to his opening while urging me on. It was happening fast, too fast, for I wanted it to be special. To be this moment I had envisioned so many times before. Instead, I bore into him, pushed my cock into his hole and fucked. He begged me to fuck him harder, and I grabbed his legs and folded him over as I shifted into a better position. I hammered my cock inside him, fucked to cum, no longer thinking about what was next.

I felt my need for release quickly increase. My entire body tensed with this imminent need. I jammed my cock all the way inside Greg and hammered my hips against his ass as cum surged through my cock then spurt from it. I came hard, crying out with my release.

Then I was lying on Greg and felt cum smeared between us. Greg had jacked off as I fucked him. We eased up into a sitting position and I watched Greg grab up his t-shirt and wipe the cum from his stomach. He acted like it was dirty, that he had to get it off and I realized he was acting panicky, more nervous than before.

“Hey…thanks for coming over. I’m going to get cleaned up and…you can see yourself out” Greg stammered as he grabbed up his jeans and boxers then headed down the narrow hall without looking back.

I dressed as I tried to figure out what was going on. This sudden dismal, but as I looked around the room, I realized he was still under his parent’s control and still very much in the closet, afraid to reveal himself, even in the privacy of his own home. I eased out the door, making sure it was latched and left.

Over the course of the next few months, I found more of the same. Guys who were gay, looking for sexual release, but nothing more, afraid to live as a gay man in this rural place, or in some cases, not wanting anything but the sex. The latter I could deal with, but those that were so closeted they were constantly on pins and needles I could not. I had wondered if I could do it; come out to my parents, and time and time again I thought I could if only there was someone with me. I didn’t want to be left alone and the idea my parents might not accept it was a risk I thought I could deal with if someone was there for support.

By December, two weeks prior to Christmas, I was home, feeling sorry for myself more so than usual. I knew the time of year only made it worse but knowing that and not having it affect me were two different things. I went online and widened my search parameters and almost immediately got a hit.

Roger, from Monroeville, about fifty miles away, wanted to know if I wanted to hook up. There was no pretense to what he wanted. There was no ‘let’s meet for coffee’ or suggestion of a dinner date. I typed out a reply. My finger hovered over ‘send’ for a few seconds. It really wasn’t what I had in mind, but then again, it was something. And I was horny too.

“Fuck it” I uttered aloud as I hit ‘send’ and waited.

The clock on the dash read 10:24 pm. It was late, but it was a Saturday and I was wide awake, so it didn’t matter. I followed Roger’s directions till I came into Monroeville. Checking directions several times I found myself in an older neighborhood, one of ranch style houses, most large and sprawling on large wooded lots. I eased down the street till I came to Elm Lane. Roger’s house was only three down from the corner. A large picture window at front revealed a living room with dark red walls. It looked inviting, a place well lived in. I pulled into the drive that circled around in front. I walked up to the recessed front doors and as I reached for the doorbell the door swung open.

“Keith?”

“Yes, and you’re Roger?”

“Yes, come on in.”

He offered me a whiskey, straight on the rocks, and I took it, knocking it back in two swallows. I watched him do it in one.

“Why don’t we go to the back and have some fun” said Roger as he led me down a dark hall, the only light coming from open doors at its end.

I saw the room on the front of the house was a master bedroom, a king-sized bed prominent on the far wall, but Roger led me to the room at the back of the house. I saw it was sparsely furnished. A small double bed, a table and in the far corner sat what I knew to be a sling. Roger hadn’t lied about what he wanted.

“Keith; strip.”

It wasn’t a question, just a statement. Directions that I was to follow. I hesitated only for a moment, then removed my clothes as I watched Roger do the same.

Roger’s profile said he was thirty, but I knew he was older, more like forty. The hair at his temples was graying and around the eyes, small wrinkles. But he was attractive, and I wondered why he would lie about his age. If he had been willing, I would have gone out with him. I had no problem with his age and the idea of going out with him, a real date as it were, was appealing. But as he stood naked in front of me, wearing a cock ring and his cock already half hard, I knew Roger had other ideas.

He pushed me toward the sling, and I knew it was me who would be in it, not Roger. I lay back and held to the chains that held up that side of the leather pad. He put cuffs on each ankle and secured them to the chains on that side. I was spread open, legs up. I had never been in this position before, nothing concealed, fully exposed. It scared me and excited me at the same time. He toyed with my cock till I was hard, rubbed hands over my body, manipulating my nipples till I shuddered with pain/pleasure as he pinched down on them. Then he was pushing into me. I felt his cock stretch me open and I threw my head back as I shivered from the pain of his penetration.

“Fuck” I cried out as I felt Roger sink inch after inch into my hole.

He worked into my depths and toyed with my cock, keeping me hard. When I felt his hips pushed against my ass, he leaned over and kissed me roughly, then whispered in my ear.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Then he fucked me. He held my legs and thrust into me hard. He was so physical with his sex, so verbal, it spurred me to follow suit. I urged him to fuck me, to fuck me harder, as I rocked in the sling. He jacked my cock in rhythm with his fuck, then he pulled out and slammed back inside me. I felt the penetration of each thrust. The fullness of it, the way it felt so deep within me. When he pulled out, hesitated a moment, then shoved back in I saw stars. He hit my insides in a way that made my cock flex and drool onto my stomach.

He pulled out again and took me in his mouth. He pushed his head down till his nose pressed into my abdomen. He tongued my cock, toyed with the head making me shudder with the stimulation. Then he stood and shoved his cock back inside me. Holding my legs, he fucked harder than before. His torso glistened wetly from his exertions. I held on to the chains and took him, every thrust. He wasn’t holding back this time, didn’t toy with me anymore. He just fucked. Fucked to cum. When he cried out, shoved inward and shuddered while sunk into my depths I knew he was coming.

When he pulled out, he leaned over and took me in his mouth. It didn’t take long, not with all the stimulation from his fuck. Within a short time, I filled his mouth with my load.

Roger slipped on a robe while I dressed. I felt his eyes on me, watching me. As I put my shoes on, sitting on the bed he came over and sat next to me.

“I really enjoyed hooking up with you” said Roger as I tied my shoes.

“It was fun” I replied, but I had a flatness to my voice I regretted.

“But it isn’t what you’re looking for?”

I sat up and looked at him. He was smiling softly. No anger, or fear, or disappointment. Just an acknowledgement of the fact.

“No, it’s not” I admitted.

“Well, Keith, I hope you find what you’re seeking. We all deserve to have some happiness in life.”

“Thanks…and Roger. It was fun.” I couldn’t help but smile, and Roger chuckled.

“Sometimes we just need this sexual release” Roger replied motioning around his playroom.

It was nearly 1 A.M. when I was pulling out the Roger’s drive. I waited to turn on the street for a car was heading my way. It slowed, then signaled it was turning. I watched it turn into Roger’s drive. A small sports car, Nissan I think, and it pulled up to the front door. I pulled out on the street and slowly sped up. Looking over I saw Roger open the front door inviting another young guy inside. I laughed, out loud, at how Roger knew what he wanted and seemed to have guys lined up for the night that would give it to him. I also knew I was not inclined to come back. It was fun but felt like a detour from the path I wanted to take. I wanted a boyfriend. Someone who would be there, not only for the sex, and the intimacy of it, but also around for the daily routine of life. At breakfast in the morning or bringing me lunch out to whatever field I was working in or sitting on the deck just watching the sun set or the moon illuminate a nighttime sky.

Over the weeks, months, I fell into a routine. Up early, in a field or at the barn doing maintenance. I kept myself busy, running the farm with dad or doing work around my home. Whenever I was free of the farm, the renovation called me, keeping me occupied.

There were times in a field, driving the tractor across it I would think about my life. What if I tried to be straight, find a woman and create a family of one or two children? It was the expectation of everyone. The thing I was supposed to do. There continued to be the questions from mom. The inquiries that indicated I was normal, that I would give her grandchildren and life would continue, another generation to fill her home during Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I couldn’t bring the image to life. The notion wasn’t real to me.

I daydreamed of life with someone. Another guy, someone to help on the farm or have their own career, one that would let us live comfortably. Maybe travel, be able to afford a new truck without having to scrip and save. Simple things that made my house seem like home. Bouncing across a field I played out different scenarios, imaged boyfriends that became husbands. I imagined how my parents would respond to this. At times it was rejection, an unwillingness to accept such an arrangement. Then, depending on my mood at the time, I imagined them embracing me and my boyfriend, accepting in who I was and my choices in life.

I went to Sam and Kathy’s wedding at the end of January. It was small, held at the Baptist church in Century where Kathy’s family were members. I stood at the front, one of the grooms, and wondered what I was doing there. If the church only knew, I would have not been welcomed. I wondered if Sam and Kathy would have even invited me if they knew.

A couple of weeks later Sam called inviting me to dinner. It had been awkward. I had known them since kindergarten but sitting in the living room, I felt like I really didn’t know them. Not at all. I knew it wasn’t true, and the problem was I had not let them know me. Not really. I almost told them. The words on the tip of my tongue, but around nine o’clock I eased out of their home, my secret still safe. It was the night I called Roger again, arranging to meet the next night.

May 2019

I paid my bills for the month wondering how time could seem to be passing faster. Since graduation, the routine of life had made it seem like month after month just flew by. I looked out the window and watched a pulpwood truck noisily pass by, then glanced at my watch. 11:25 A.M. It was Sunday, the day my parents went to church then had a late lunch, while I took care of the domestic chores that got put off over the week, paid bills for the next month and just lounged around the house. I had washed my truck, a new one to me. It was a 2016 I bought two weeks ago, a Chevy with four-wheel drive (which I didn’t need) and a three-quarter chassis and towing package (which I did need).

I flipped open my laptop and starting checking website I followed. Those for the news, then social media, and finally, the hookup sites, seeing if I had any hits. There were three and I read through them. Over the last few months I grew less enticed by them, replied far less often. I had called Roger again. I had gone for a time without even hooking up and called him out of…what? Desperation? Loneliness?  Just a desire to fuck?  All three?

He had been more gracious as a host, knowing what I was going through. The last time the two of us went out to dinner and talked about how difficult it could be; a gay man in a rural area with few options.

Lunch in Lexington seemed like a good idea; an excuse to get out of the house. In the bathroom I looked at my reflection. This average height, lanky built guy of twenty. I was in good shape but not that of some body builder. The muscle tone was from working on the farm, not a gym. I appraised my looks as I have done for years. Brown eyes, dark brown hair (that needed a barber) and lips I thought were too full. I also thought my neck was too long and my nose too big. But then again, I knew I looked to harshly at myself, leaning in close at times looking for imperfections. If nothing else, the responses to my profile spoke to other guys being attracted to me.

I reflected on the guys I had been with over the last couple of years. Tall, short, skinny, muscled, stocky with brown hair or blonde or black or red. Some with perfect teeth and some not so perfect, each attractive in their own way. I considered Roger, at least fifteen years my elder, nearly my father’s age, and how I still found him attractive. And I thought of Eric. I thought of him often, too often, but I had made no attempt to see him. And in the last two years had not crossed paths with him. I wondered about his life. I knew he graduated last week, an announcement of Northview’s ceremony online in Greenville’s news page. I imagined him preparing for college and a boyfriend that would be left behind, hurt at his departure.

I slipped on jeans and a shirt, buttoning it up and rolling up the sleeves. I slipped on my good boots and headed out the door. I crossed the river and motored into Lexington, in line with other trucks and SUVs. Did anyone in this town drive a car? I passed the fast food joints, the chain restaurants and convenience stores. I eased along till in downtown and parked in the first empty space I came upon.

The diner wasn’t busy since it was before noon and the churches not yet let out. I took a seat at the window so I could watch people pass by. The waitress came over and took my drink order. When she returned with the drink and to take my order, I saw her look at my left hand. I’d seen it before. The survey for a ring and I slipped both hands off the table and into my lap.

The waitress took my order and headed to the kitchen. I surveyed the room to see if I knew anyone. I breathed a sign of relief for none were from back home. I eased back and stretched out my legs while watching the light traffic on Main Street pass by. It was becoming too routine, this eating alone, but I didn’t know how to break the cycle. As time passed it seemed harder to contemplate.

I saw movement on the sidewalk, a couple with a boy following them, walked past and to the front door. I would know the boy anywhere. Tall, lanky, with dark skin and black hair. This time he wore a white banded collar shirt with black jeans and black boots. They came into the diner and I felt breathless, heart racing in my chest. I had let myself forget how attractive Eric truly was. I looked at his mother, a woman I had never seen before and saw where he got the genes. She looked Native American with long dark hair. I knew she had to be my mom’s age, but she looked ten years younger. She was beautiful, and with Eric standing beside her, I saw how much they looked alike, Eric’s features just a bit more pronounced, more masculine.

As they crossed the dining room heading to a table in the middle of the room, they were in deep conversation about something and not paying attention to anything around them. I watched them get seated, Eric with his back to me and his parents to his left and right, none facing my way.

The waitress brought my hamburger and I ate slowly, looking to my left constantly. I couldn’t stop. Not a minute went by when I wasn’t giving Eric a quick glance. They got their food as I finished my burger. I ordered desert, something I normally would not do, but I had to have an excuse to linger a while longer. When the waitress brought my check, I saw the Henderson’s waitress bring their check.

I tossed a few bills on top of it and waited on my waitress who was tied up with a large group, working her way around the two tables pushed together. The Henderson’s stood and I looked over and saw Mr. Henderson looking my way, recognition on his face.

“Keith; how are you?”

At the mention of my name, Eric turned around and smiled.

“I’m okay. I trust you are well.”

“We’re good. How’s Tom and your mother?”

I replied to Mr. Henderson as I watched Eric lean over their table writing something down. I noticed Mrs. Henderson gave me a look I couldn’t read. It was like she knew me, really knew me. She smiled as we said goodbye and they headed toward the door. Eric once again followed them and, on the way out, he swung by my table setting a folded napkin down in front of me. For a moment, I did not dare pick it up. I waited. Waited till the Henderson’s were out the door and my waitress was gone to get my change. My hands were shaking as I unfolded it. The words were in a neat script, straight, each letter perfectly formed.

Will you call me now that I’m not jailbait?

Eric’s number was underneath. I laughed out loud, causing some of the other patrons to look my way. I didn’t care.

I pulled up to the Henderson’s on Wednesday evening right at six o’clock. I had called Eric that afternoon after getting his note. We talked for an hour, but never really getting personal or discussing how both of us were gay. It was just a given. The ironic thing about the call was Eric wanted us to go on a date. A traditional date, with dinner and a movie. He said it was to make up for not being able to in high school when everyone else was going out. It seemed like an odd request at first but the more I thought about it the more I agreed. It was something I had felt too. An outsider within my own class. Someone different, who couldn’t do the same things the others were doing.

I felt foolish going up to the front door. I was wearing a new white dress shirt that I had starched and ironed, something I did not normally do. And I had a new pair of jeans, their dark blue not faded one bit. The doorbell rang inside the house and within seconds the door swung in revealing Mr. Henderson.

“Hey…Mr. Henderson?”

“Keith, come on in.”

I followed him into the living room where Mrs. Henderson sat waiting. It was awkward, the stiffness that everyone seemed to have, not knowing what to say at first.

“Mrs. Henderson, it is a lovely home” I uttered in a nervous voice.

Mr. Henderson looked at me, then burst into laughter, followed by Mrs. Henderson.

“Relax Keith. I have to admit I was taken aback when Eric said it was you coming to pick him up. I mean, Tom’s kid was…like Eric. I’d never would have guessed.”

“Don’t tell…”

“Keith; that is for you tell them. We won’t say anything. But you will have to tell them sooner rather than later. Eric isn’t good at hiding who he is” Mrs. Henderson added.

“How long have you known? When did Eric tell you?”

Mrs. Henderson looked at her husband then back to me, “Since he was fifteen. If I’m honest I knew before, for when he was fourteen there was a change. I thought it was my having been in the hospital but later, I realized it was something else.”

“He went from being a happy go-lucky kid to this quiet, emotional teenager” Mr. Henderson added.

“Fourteen?”

“Yes, right after that week Tom and you planted our crops” said Mr. Henderson.

I put it together, that week we were here every day and Eric cooking lunch for us and…

I must have shown this realization on my face for I saw them nod at me.

“We eventually figured it out too.  But he wouldn’t tell us anything, not at the time. Right after his fifteenth birthday, one he was supposed to invite friends over for a party, and no one showed up, I really knew something wasn’t right. I went to his room one afternoon and asked him what was wrong. He sat up and with such defiance, told me he liked boys, not girls” Mrs. Henderson continued, shaking her head at the memory of that day.

“He thought we…I would throw him out when he told us. He even had a gym bag packed” said Mr. Henderson, and I could see this was something that still shook him up.

“So, everything is good?”

“Yes, Keith, everything is good. There are things we don’t pretend to understand, but…”

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Eric as he came into the room. I felt breathless as he moved into the room. He had on a steel gray dress shirt, black jeans and those black boots, and it all fit him perfectly, with his tall lean build. His hair was cut, short on the sides, and it made him look older, no longer this kid I knew over the last four years.

“Nothing” Mr. Henderson replied.

“Huh-uh. They didn’t grill you with a bunch of questions, did they?” Eric asked me as I stood.

“No.”

“Well, let’s go. I’ll be back around eleven or so. The movie lets out at 10:30.”

“Okay, son. You have a good time and be careful” Mrs. Henderson replied as they followed us to the door.

We climbed into my truck and drove to Lexington for our first date. Dinner at the nicest restaurant in town, then over to the cinema to see a movie. I asked about what his parents told me, and he confessed that was his first real awakening to being gay. This led to a serious conversation about what it had been like for both of us, but after a few minutes, the joy of being on a date, and there being a possibility of a future one, made us transition into happier topics.

At 10:56 P.M., I pulled up to his house, kissed him awkwardly, worrying that his parents would be watching out the window, and told him I’d call him the next day.

He made me wait till Friday before agreeing to go out again. Said he had something to do on Thursday and I had to show him I could wait. This time I wanted us to have more privacy, to have time together without prying eyes, for Wednesday night in the restaurant there had been a lot of eyes looking our way. Eric was going to come over to my place and I would grill some steaks. I had told him to dress casually, that we would hang out at my place and watch a movie.

I had slipped on a clean t-shirt and my favorite pair of jeans. They were faded and frayed but fit snug around the ass. And the worn fabric was so soft against my skin. Right at six the doorbell rang out and I found Eric on the back porch and he was dressed even more casually. A white tank top that showed off his arms and shoulders, and khaki shorts with frayed legs and a torn pocket revealing the red boxers underneath. I wanted to put my fingers through the hole and feel what I knew had to be a firm ass cheek.

“Come on in, and please don’t say anything about the mess in the living and dining rooms.” I had both rooms stripped of the ugly wallpaper and the drywall partially sanded. The rooms looked rough and we would not be going into them tonight.

“You’re renovating?”

“Yeah, slowly. When I have time.”

He leaned against the kitchen counter as I prepared the steaks, adding salt and pepper, rubbing it in. I felt his eyes watching me, my every move and I would look over and find him smiling.

“You need some help?” Eric asked.

“No, I got it. The salad is made and in the frig, the potatoes are in the oven and the grill is lit, getting hot. The only thing you need to do is tell me what you want to drink.”

Two glasses of tea poured, and we clinked them together with a silly ‘cheers’. I laid the steaks on a platter and open a drawer to get out the tongs. Eric leaned over me, his taller height much more evident, five or six inches taller, and reached around for the platter.

“I’ll take this out to the grill, and you can bring everything else.”

I felt his presence like no one before. The closeness of his body to my own. The cologne he wore, the scent of laundry detergent on his clothes, the shampoo used in his hair and beneath it all, the underlining scent of his body. I drew in a deep breath, capturing all of it and nearly fell. He caught me and held me steady.

“Hey, you okay?”

I smiled up at him, nodding my head.

Outside, the steaks sizzling on the grill, I turned to look at him, leaning against the deck rail, his long legs angled out slightly, arms stretched out either side of him, hands on top of the rail.

Have you ever looked at another guy? Really looked at him.  A guy you found attractive and every aspect of their physical being became something you wanted to capture with your eyes. Much like you wanted to capture the sound of their voice with your ears, and when more intimate, your mouth against their flesh or pressed against their mouth, so you could capture that essence too.

I looked at Eric, my eyes wandering over his long lean body, then focusing on aspect after aspect. He had long eye lashes, and high prominent cheeks. But his face wasn’t as wide as his mothers, it was more like his fathers, heart shaped with a strong chin and full lips. When he smiled dimples framed his mouth. And there was a mole on his neck, just below the right ear.

I made note of so many aspects I lost track, all of it merging into the whole before me. He stood and took the two steps toward me, moved up close till I was looking up to face him.

“I’m glad we made it to a second date” and I felt his lips touch mine. When he pulled away, he nodded toward the grill. “I think you need to turn them over.”

I flipped the steaks and leaned against the rail beside him.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“I’m gay. That note in the restaurant, you…”

“Are you kidding? I saw how you looked at me, especially the last time we were together. Before that I just imagined it to be true, but that last time…I knew. Without a doubt. I saw the look on your face and recognized it. It was one I understood.”

We sat beside each other at the small table in the kitchen. With knees and elbows bumping, it was comical, the way we had to sit so close. But it was nice too. We became playful, our conversation revolving around nothing of importance. When we finished, Eric insisted on helping, telling me not to leave the dishes in the sink. I didn’t have the dishwasher hooked up, so we stood at the sink, me washing and Eric drying and putting everything away. When we finished, he looked around the room with an expression of puzzlement.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Where’s your television?”

I smiled, knowing how chaotic my house was with the renovation. “It’s in the bedroom.”

It was Eric’s turn to smile. “Let’s go” he replied, taking me by the hand and leading me toward the hall. “Which room is it?”

“Go left. The door at the end of the hall.”

He led me into the room, swung me around and playfully pushed me onto the bed. Before I knew it, he was sitting on top of me holding my arms down. He leaned down close looking me in the eye.

“I’ve gotcha now.”

“So, what are you going to do now that you have me?” I replied. Both of us were laughing in our playful mood.

“What I’ve been wanting to do for a long time” he replied. Then he kissed me.

When he sat up, he tugged my t-shirt up and I sat up to let him remove it. He undid my jeans and worked the zipper down. I leaned up on elbows and watched his fingers work furiously to open them up. My blue boxers came into view and I inhaled deeply as I watched his fingers dig into the fabric, till he was toying with me.

“Fuck” I whispered as he scooted down between my legs and worked my jeans and boxers down. I helped him get them off and lay back, naked, open to whatever he wanted to do. He looked at me with pure mischief in his eyes as he undid his shorts while knee walking back over me. He sat on my chest and pulled out his cock. It was long and growing longer before my eyes. He wiped it across my lips and when I tongued it, he shuddered and moaned. He put it to my lips, and I parted them, taking the head, then inch after inch he pushed through them.

“Oh, Keith…take me” he uttered as he began to work his hips back and forth. I stroked my own cock while his piston in my mouth.

He pulled his tank top off, tossing it across the room, then he sat back and to my side, working his shorts and boxers down his legs. I rubbed his back then along one thigh feeling the tight smooth skin. He moved on top of me, pressed his cock against mine. His stomach undulated with his breathing against mine. He leaned down and kissed me again.

I wanted him, wanted to feel the heat of his body against my own. I wanted to feel him inside me. I parted my legs and wrapped them around his waist while his cock rubbed over my abdomen. He shifted down and I felt it slip below my nuts and rake along my ass. I moaned while pushing up against him.

“You want me to fuck you?”

It was a sincere question, not made in jest. Opening my eyes, I saw he was serious.

“Yes…please, do me” I whispered.

I reached between us an took him in hand. I guided him to my hole as I kissed him, then told him to put it in me. I felt the push against my tightness, and I threw my head back while pushing my ass against him. I shuddered as I felt him breach my tightness, felt the stretch of my hole as he penetrated me. He moaned in my ear while working his cock into me. Inch after inch squeezed through till I felt him press tightly against my ass.

I felt him begin to fuck, to work his cock inside me till I loosened to its penetration. His pace slowly increased till he was hammering against my ass. I felt my own aroused state with every penetrating thrust. He banged my insides till I saw stars and begged him to fuck me harder.

I opened my eyes to watch him. His long, lean torso undulating with his movements. Skin stretched tight over bulging muscles and after a time it glistened wetly in the light. He worked my legs around to his chest and held them tightly as he thrust his cock into my depths. I felt the wet heat of his chest against my legs. When he moved back over me, it folded me in half. My ass rose above the bed, angled upward perfect for his fuck. He hammered my hole, rocking the bed till it squeaked and banged against the wall. The sound of it in rhythm with our fuck.

He slowed, pushed in so slowly I could feel every inch drag through the tight ring of my opening. He ground his hips against my ass as he drilled his cock into my depths. His hot breath on my neck, his hands taking mine, holding them down, as his cock piston in my hole. I shuddered and cried out, begged him to fuck me. He teased me some more, slowly working his cock inward then out, over and over till I felt my own cock slid wetly between us.

When he lifted himself up on his hands, he began to fuck with urgency once again. He slammed into my depths, abdomen smacking against my ass. The bed squeaked in protest once again.

“PLEASE…Eric…” I cried out as he pulled out and slammed back into me.

“Not yet” he uttered as he pulled out, leaving me feeling empty. He got me to roll over and up on my knees, He pushed my head down and shoved back into my depths. I clung to the bed, knuckles white with my tight grip as I took every thrust. He bounced off my ass and rocked me across the bed. Then he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me upright, bearhugging us together. His arm was tight around my neck as he thrust upward. My own cock flopped up and down, smacking wetly against my thigh and stomach.

He nipped my ear, kissed my neck and shoved into me all the way.

“I’m…coming” he uttered breathlessly. He pushed in all the way and filled me with his load.

I went to my hands and knees, breathing hard as I felt him ease his still hard cock from my hole. His hands rubbed up and down my back and I realized I was as sweaty as he was. One hand circled my waist and grasp me, stroking my wet cock till I wanted to fuck through its fist.

“Keith…roll over,” I heard him whisper and I eased over on my back, cock angled up, bobbing up and down and leaking.  He moved over me again, only this time he ground his ass down on my cock, worked his hips back and forth till I wanted to it again, only this time I wanted to fuck him. I sat up, bearhugged our bodies together and rolled him to his back. I sat up between his spread legs and raked my cock up and down his ass, smearing precum over it till it was wet.

“Keith…do it…fuck me” he uttered, and I pushed against his tightness till the head of my cock breached him and squeezed through. I kept pushing, slowly, letting him feel every inch as I sank into his depths. His body shivered and beads of sweat pooled on his skin.

I held still for a moment, savoring the feel of my cock buried inside him. The tight grip around the base of my shaft and the soft heat enveloping the rest of it. His hands touched my thighs, rubbed upward over my stomach making me inhale heavily. I leaned over him and pulled outward, slowly, aware of every inch sliding through his tightness. His hands moved to my chest and rubbed my nipples, then pinched down on them. I shoved back inward, all the way.

“Fuck me, Keith” I heard him whisper as his hands moved to my sides holding me gently. I began to fuck, to work my cock inside him faster and faster. I lay on top of him while working my hips. I pushed into his depths over and over as his hands moved along my back. We kissed and I ground my cock into his hole as deeply as I could. Undulating with our fuck, bare flesh against bare flesh, I grew hot, breathing heavily with my exertions. I felt the slickness between us, this heat that loosened our bodies. Our movements became intertwined. Arms and legs rubbing together and my chest sliding over his chest. Slick, hot, and wet. I pushed into him feeling the stimulation on my cock till I was working my hips faster, rougher, urgent for release.

He clung to me and the room echoed with his moans and cries. It drove me to the edge. My entire body tightened with the surge of release. I pushed into him as far as I could and felt every ejaculation. Every flex of my cock as I filled him with my load.

I stood in the shower up against the wall and watched him rub soap over his skin. Just watched, aroused by his beauty. The white suds stood out in stark relief as they slid downward. He turned to me, smiled, one of innocence and joy, then leaned toward me. We kissed. His soapy hands moved over my chest. He pulled me from the wall and bathed me. Hands were everywhere, no part of me left untouched. I turned and braced myself on the wall and felt his body press up against mine. Lips on my neck. Chest against my back. His cock pressed against my ass.

“Do it…fuck me” I uttered breathlessly and felt him penetrate me. Inch after inch slide into my hole till his hips pressed against my ass. “OH, yeah…fuck me.”

He moved slowly, gently, pushing into my depths and pulling out. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of it. His body against me with this connection, male on male, cock penetrating deeply. I pushed back wanting more.

He kissed my neck, tongued my ear then whispered, “I’ve wanted this for so long”.

He took me in hand and stroked in rhythm to his fuck. His pace increased till I was crying out, the sound echoing in the shower as his hips smacked against my ass. I was too aroused, my desire for him too great and I shuddered with release. I came hard and felt my hole spasm around his cock as it piston inside me. I kept coming till spent and too sensitive for his manipulation.

He bit my shoulder and moaned loudly as he hammered his cock in my hole and I knew he was coming once again.

August 2019

The dining and living area were finally finished and tonight they would finally be used to entertain guests. I brought plates and silverware to the table; its newness shiny under the dim light of candles Eric was lighting. I moved around the table arranging each place setting till I had six set out. Eric stood back and looked it over, the arrangement of the table with its small boutique of flowers in the middle surrounded by four candles.

“Is it too much?” Eric asked.

“Maybe, but it’s our night, so…”

I didn’t finish what I was going to say. I was too nervous. Eric’s parents have known he was gay but mine didn’t know. But tonight, they would find out. It was past time to tell them. I couldn’t go on like I had been doing. The little white lies of why Eric was here all the time. I wondered if they knew he had moved in at the first of the month.

The plan was simple. Dinner with everyone. Eric’s parents here for moral support and if the worst-case scenario happened, hopefully help diffuse the situation. Eric had been acting all stoic, as if there was nothing to worry about, but I knew he was nervous too. Repeating himself constantly, checking and double-checking dinner, looking out the window whenever a vehicle passed, or forgetting what he had been saying mid-sentence. I made no pretense about being a nervous wreck.

A car pulled around the house and Eric was at the window to see who it had arrived first.

“It’s mom and dad.”

“Good, I had hoped they would arrive first.”

Eric brought them into the house, through the kitchen and into the living room to wait on my parents. We didn’t have a chance to really talk when I heard dad’s truck pull around the house. I heard it running for a long time, just sitting in back before it shut off.

“What are they doing?” Eric asked.

“Looking at the tractor I would imagine.”

“You didn’t tell them you bought a tractor?”

“Not yet. It’ll give us something to talk about…before…”

The back door swung open and mom and dad came in, mom carrying a cake. She was never one to show up empty handed.

“Come on in and we can take our places around the table” I said as I took the cake from mom. Eric went into the kitchen to pull the roast out of the Dutch oven, along with the potatoes and carrots. He placed everything on a platter and brought it to the table where everything else was ready.

“Wow, this is…” Mom stammered.

“What’s the big occasion?” dad interrupted.

“Oh, nothing really. I got this room done this past week with Eric’s help and wanted to use it.”

I saw the look Eric’s parents gave me and knew they were as nervous as the rest of us.

We took our seats and began to pass the food around and soon fell into casual conversation. I wondered how long it take dad to ask about the tractor and it didn’t take long.

“Whose tractor is that out back?”

“It’s mine. I bought it last week from a farmer over in Monroeville, who was selling out.”

“How old is it?”

“Five years and by the hours on it, he didn’t use it much.”

“Why didn’t you…”

“Ask you about it? Tell you first? I don’t know. I went to the auction looking for a bush hog and when they drove it out and I saw the price was lower than it should be I just bought it. I know you have two tractors, but this one is larger than the 6430 and…let’s eat first and I’ll tell you the plan.”

Dad looked at me with a questioning glare. One I knew well. He knew something was up, that I was not telling him everything. Eric’s dad spoke up, asking dad how his crops looked. It steered the conversation away from me and I felt like I could breathe again.

After dinner, mom’s cake missing a good portion and everyone sated, pushed back from the table and relaxed, I knew it was time.

“Mom…dad…there is something I wanted to discuss with you tonight. Something I’ve been putting off far too long. It’s about Eric and I. You see…”

“We know” dad interrupted, head cocked to one side, one eyebrow raised. Mom was nodding her head in agreement.

“You know? You know what?”

It was tense around the table, everyone but mom and dad looking nervous.

“We know you are…gay. We know you and Eric have been seeing each other for some time now, and if I’m not mistaken, he is living here now. Is that what you wanted to tell us?” replied dad and I saw mom smile.

“How? How did you find out?”

“Son, we’re not blind,” said mom. “Eric and you are together all the time. Girls ask me why you won’t return phone calls, refuse even to go out with them. And three weeks ago, that Sunday it rained all day. You remember that day?”

“Yeah, it stormed during the night and drizzled rain all day on Sunday. What about it?”

“We went into Lexington for lunch. We just wanted out of the house and decided we’d drive over. We got there a little after noon and parked right in front of the diner. Through the window, we saw Eric and you having lunch. Just the two of you. You were talking in such an animated way. Both of you gesturing with your hands, laughing at one thing or another, and once, Eric reached over and touched your hand on the table. It was so obvious you were not just two friends having lunch, that it was much more than that. And you never noticed us sitting in the car right in front of you.”

“I…huh…I didn’t know. And I never saw you come in.”

“No, we went some where else. It was a bit of shock, you see. But over the last three weeks your father and I have talked about it. And…look Keith, we don’t pretend to understand everything, but…we see you happier than you’ve been in a long time.”

She stopped talking, having said what she wanted. Dad nodded in agreement and the rest of us sat in silence, not sure what to say. Dad poured more tea into his glass, took a swallow then looked over at Eric, then me.

“So, what’s the deal with the new tractor?”

The mood lightened, everyone relaxed as Eric and I explained the plan. He would help dad and I get our crops in, and I would help him, and Mr. Henderson get their crops in. The new tractor was for Eric to use. With the two of us working together, we figured we could get the work done on both farms quicker.

It was our plan. To live together in this house, we’re making into a home. And to farm with our fathers, in this place, this land that was the only place we really felt a connection.