The pickup's headlights sliced through the farmhouse's dust-choked yard, stopping in front of the door. Ethan watched from the passenger seat as Devin hauled Steve toward the barn by his arm. Kyle shoved John forward with a proprietary hand between his shoulder blades, pushing him like a condemned man.
John moved like a man walking to the gallows, chin up, shoulders squared, but Ethan saw the way his fingers kept brushing his skin, wondering what Kyle had in mind.
Hal's grip tightened around Ethan's wrist, his calloused thumb pressing into the delicate bones like he was testing ripeness. "Dinner's waiting, but you can wait," Hal murmured, steering Ethan after John's swaying form with the casual authority of a man who knew the young man beside him, likes older men.
The bedroom door clicked shut with finality, sealing Ethan inside with Hal as Kyle's rough laughter faded down the hall. The farmhouse's antique wallpaper peeled at the seams, yellowed floral patterns curling like dead petals around the four-poster bed Hal gestured toward. "Thought you might prefer clean sheets," Hal murmured, his work-roughened fingers brushing the crisp linens with unexpected tenderness. The bed smelled faintly of lavender and lye soap, a scent that didn't belong in this house of sweat and leather.
Ethan moved closer, his bare feet silent on the wide-plank floorboards, his fingers trembling slightly as they found the first pearl button of Hal's denim shirt, the metal cool against his fingertips. The fabric parted reluctantly beneath his touch, revealing a chest mapped with silvered scars and sun-weathered skin. One particular mark caught Ethan's attention, a raised crescent just below Hal's collarbone, old enough to have faded white at the edges.
"Will you be my daddy?" Ethan asked, the words slipping out half-breathless as his palm flattened over Hal's heartbeat, the old man's pulse jumping beneath his touch, betraying the calm facade.
Hal's chuckle vibrated through Ethan's fingertips as he caught the younger man's wrist. "Careful what you ask for, boy," he warned, "I normally spank boys for being naughty."
Moonlight bled through the gauzy curtains, painting stripes across Hal's bare shoulders as he loomed over Ethan. The old man's calloused thumb traced the arch of Ethan's cheekbone, surprisingly gentle for a hand that had broken so many trespassers. "You're different," Hal mused, his gaze flicking to the bedroom door where distant thuds and muffled groans signalled Kyle's continued dominance over John. "Not just stubborn... like you want this," as his fingers tightened suddenly in Ethan's hair. "Don't you?"
"I do," Ethan responded to Hal's direct question.
Hal chuckled in response, saying, "I once enjoyed an afternoon with a young lad I caught playing in the woods. Just into his puberty without chest, leg or pubic hair, and he wore tighty whities, I remember, and he got to keep them after getting to know me better. I was still with Martha then as well."
Ethan's fingers stilled on Hal's belt buckle, his breath hitching as the old man's words curled around him like smoke. "How old was he?" Ethan asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it, his voice tight with something between curiosity and hunger.
Hal's chuckle was low, rich as the whiskey Ethan had smelled on his breath earlier. "Fourteen summers and not a hair on him," he murmured, his calloused thumb brushing the hollow of Ethan's throat. "Found him wading in the creek in his tighty whities behind the north pasture, his young cock tenting the cotton as his fingers played with it."
The bed creaked under Hal's weight as he settled onto the edge, pulling Ethan between his knees with effortless strength. "The Boy didn't even know what his cock was for, standing fucking hard as anything until I slipped them down for him," Hal continued, his fingers playing with Ethan's pubic hair "Had to show him how to stroke it proper. Had him sit on my lap as I jerked him off, talking him through it, as if it was all new to him."
Ethan shuddered when Hal's palm cupped his balls. "You remind me of him," Hal mused, his free hand tilting Ethan's chin up to meet his gaze. “I found out it was new to it when he shot his load almost up to his shoulders. So much cum came from that young cock, and I laughed when he said, " Wow, it's never done that before. He became a regular lad, happy to please me, the same way your eyes go dark when you're trying not to beg. Unlike him, though, you have too much hair. That's the thing with boys, they grow hair eventually."
"I can be like him if you want me to be, if that will please you?" Ethan asked. "Do you like boys looking young?"
Hal's fingers stilled against Ethan's throat, the rough pad of his thumb pressing just hard enough to feel the flutter of Ethan's pulse beneath. The silence stretched between them like the worn sheets beneath Hal's knees, weighted with something older than lust. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped to a rasp that made Ethan's skin prickle.
"Boy," Hal murmured, the word deliberate, "you ain't got to pretend," as his calloused hand slid down Ethan's chest, fingers catching briefly on a nipple before continuing south. "What I like...is...well, you're older looking than a boy."
"Would you like me to be a young boy just for you... Daddy Hal," Ethan asked, caught in the emotion that he had found a willing daddy, finally at last, who... knows how to fuck, Ethan thought.
Hal's breath hitched audibly when Ethan dropped to his knees without prompting, fingers fumbling at the old man's belt with deliberate clumsiness. The leather groaned as Ethan pulled it free, letting the heavy buckle thud against the floorboards with a weight that felt like total surrender.
Hal's fingers tensed against Ethan's shoulders, pushing him back just far enough to study his face in the lamplight. The old man's breath smelled of bourbon and chewing tobacco when he rasped, "You really want me to be your daddy while you're here?" his thumbs digging into Ethan's collarbones, not quite painful, testing the give of flesh over bone like he was weighing the sincerity in Ethan's bones.
Ethan didn't blink before answering. "Not just while I'm here," he murmured, watching Hal's pupils dilate at the implication. "I want to come back from time to time. I really like you," as the bedframe groaned when Ethan shifted his weight, deliberately rocking forward until their thighs pressed together, denim against bare skin. "Unless you think you're too old to keep up with me."
The bathroom tiles were cold under Ethan's bare feet as he followed Hal, the old man's shadow stretching long across the cracked flooring. Hal moved with surprising grace for someone his size, filling the clawfoot tub with practised efficiency, one knob for scalding well water, the other for the icy spring-fed supply. Steam curled upward as he tested the temperature with a scarred elbow, adjusting until the water hit that perfect, skin-pinking heat Ethan remembered from childhood baths.
"Get in," Hal said, not unkindly, nodding toward the tub where soap bubbles already foamed along the edges. Ethan stepped over the porcelain rim and sank into the water with a sigh, the heat seeping into muscles still tense from the bike ride and whatever awaited him beyond this room. Hal's hands followed, broad palms slick with lavender-scented soap, working methodically from Ethan's shoulders down. Each stroke erased a layer of road dust, sweat, the thin film of fear that had clung to him since they'd arrived.
The straight razor gleamed when Hal lifted it from the medicine cabinet, its ivory handle yellowed with age, as he stropped the blade against leather in slow, rhythmic passes, the sound like a breath held too long. Ethan watched, transfixed, as Hal lathered his chest with badger-hair brush and shaving soap, the bristles tickling in a way that made his nipples peak.
"Keep still," Hal murmured when the razor touched skin, its first pass along Ethan's collarbone leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The blade scraped gently, whisking away dark chest hairs that spiralled downward in wet clumps. Ethan held his breath as Hal worked lower, tilting his chin up to expose the vulnerable hollow of his throat, the razor's edge hovering just above his pulse point before continuing its deliberate descent.
Hal paused when he reached Ethan's navel, one hand splayed possessively across his belly. "Lift," he commanded, and Ethan obeyed, raising his hips so Hal could swipe the razor down the trail of hair leading to his groin. The blade paused just above his cock, Hal's thumb brushing the base in silent question as Ethan nodded, exhaling sharply when cold steel glided over the tender skin, leaving him bare as the day he was born.
Hal had clearly done this before, and with skill, Ethan's testicles lost their hair and then the remaining hair between his thighs. Water sloshed over the tub's edge as Hal manoeuvred Ethan to turn around, the razor now working down the knobs of his spine.
Ethan shivered when the blade reached the small of his back, as Hal's free hand pressed him flat against the porcelain as it continued over the rise of his ass. The scrape of steel against skin sounded obscenely loud in the tiled room, each stroke leaving Ethan smoother, more exposed than before.
Hal turned the faucet with his elbow, warm water sluicing away the last clinging flecks of soap and stubble. His palm slid down Ethan's freshly shaved flank, testing the smoothness with something akin to reverence. "There now," he murmured, fingers tracing the newly sensitive skin behind Ethan's legs until even those became devoid of hair all the way to his ankles.
"Just like the boy in the creek," the comparison made Ethan's stomach tighten, not with shame, but with a strange, buoyant anticipation and acceptance.
Hal's towel was rough against Ethan's damp skin, the terrycloth catching slightly on areas still hypersensitive from the razor, as he worked methodically, starting at Ethan's shoulders and moving downward, each pass of the fabric leaving pink streaks where blood rushed to the surface. When he reached Ethan's feet, Hal surprised him by lifting one foot to his lips, pressing a kiss to the arch that sent an electric jolt up Ethan's spine.
The mirror fogged with steam as Hal turned Ethan toward it, his hands heavy on Ethan's shoulders. "Look," he commanded, and Ethan did, at the smooth-chested stranger in the glass, at the way Hal's work-roughened fingers stood out against his newly hairless skin. The transformation was startling, not just the absence of hair, but how it made him look younger, more vulnerable in ways that had nothing to do with age.
Hal's belt jingled as he unbuckled it, the leather slithering free like a snake shedding its skin, as he wrapped it around Ethan's waist, pulling him close enough to feel the heat radiating off the old man's body. "Now you're ready," Hal murmured against the shell of Ethan's ear, his breath warm and whiskey-scented, tickling Ethan like he would a child.
Ethan giggled like a child in response to being tickled as Hal shoved him onto the bed.
Ethan watched with rapt attention as Hal undressed. Ethan caught his breath, looking at Hal's chest, providing a topographic map of hard living, the thicket of grey hair between his pecs giving way to a stomach that still held the ghost of muscle beneath its softness.
He toed off his boots without bending, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pushing both down in one motion that left him gloriously naked. Moonlight limned the curve of his ass, the dense thatch of pubic hair, the heavy sway of his cock as he turned toward the nightstand, already half-hard just from watching Ethan's transfixed expression.
The lube tube gleamed in Hal's palm when he held it up, the plastic catching the lamplight. "Fancy standing over daddy's lap?" he asked, his voice rougher than the sheets. Ethan nodded before the question fully landed, his tongue darting out to wet suddenly dry lips. Hal sat on the mattress, his arms pulling Ethan's body towards him as he stood over Hal, his legs between Hal as the old man held his hands on Ethan's buttocks.
"First things first. I'm thirsty," Hal said, the admission hanging between them for three heartbeats before Hal's mouth found the base of Ethan's cock, his lips sealing around the shaft with a heat that made Ethan's knees buckle.
Hal's chuckle vibrated through Ethan's skin as he steadied him with his hands on his hips. "Don't want you shooting all over the clean sheets, do we?" he mused before swallowing Ethan to the root in one smooth motion. Ethan's gasp tangled with the sound of the headboard thumping against the wall as he swayed, Hal's nose pressing into his freshly shaved pubic bone while his throat worked rhythmically on his cock.
Ethan's fingers twisted in Hal's hair, using his head for balance, each swallow a wet, deliberate pulse that dragged a ragged moan from Ethan's chest. The old man's calloused palms anchored Ethan's hips, his thumbs pressing into the freshly shaved hollows of his pelvic bones with just enough pressure to leave tomorrow's bruises blooming purple.
Hal pulled off with an obscene pop, his bottom lip glistening where it caught on Ethan's swollen head. "Tastes like youth," he rasped before diving back down, his tongue swirling beneath the frenulum in a way that made Ethan's vision spark white at the edges. The bedframe groaned as Ethan arched violently, while Hal worked him toward the edge with the precision of a man who'd spent decades learning exactly how to ruin boys.
The second time Hal released him, Ethan whimpered at the loss, a high, broken sound that would've embarrassed him hours ago. Now it just made Hal chuckle darkly, his teeth scraping the underside of Ethan's cock. "Now to finish you off, young man."
Hal's grip tightened on Ethan's hips as he swallowed him whole one final time, his throat working in slow, deliberate pulses that dragged a strangled cry from Ethan's lungs. The old man's nose pressed flush against Ethan's freshly shaved skin, inhaling deeply as if memorising the scent of his surrender as cum repeatedly shot from his cock, Hal taking it all after each spurt of creamy liquid. Hal continued to milk Ethan until the point his knees buckled, allowing Hal to catch him effortlessly, guiding his trembling body down until Ethan straddled his lap, their sweat-slicked chests pressed together.
"Easy now," Hal murmured against Ethan's collarbone, his beard rasping over sensitive skin as he reached between them. The lube cap popped with a sound like a gunshot in the charged silence, and Ethan shuddered when cold liquid dribbled down his cleft. Hal's fingers followed, circling his entrance with a teasing pressure that made Ethan squirm. "You want daddy to take you all the way?" Hal breathed into the hollow of Ethan's throat, his free hand carding through Ethan's hair with unexpected gentleness.
Ethan could only nod, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Hal's fingertip breached him, the stretch burning in the best way, as he arched into it, chasing the fullness, until Hal chuckled darkly and added a second finger, scissoring him open with ruthless efficiency. The stretch bordered on painful, but Ethan found himself pushing down onto Hal's hand, his body betraying him with its eager compliance.
Hal's hands spanned Ethan's waist like a carpenter measuring timber, broad thumbs meeting at the small of his back as he lifted him effortlessly. For one suspended moment, Ethan hovered above Hal's cock, his freshly shaved thighs trembling with anticipation, the head brushing his entrance in a tease that made them both groan. Then gravity and Hal's guiding hands conspired as Ethan sank in one fluid motion, the stretch stealing his breath as Hal's thickness seated him irrevocably.
Ethan's spine arched like a bowstring when Hal bottomed out, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as the old man's pubic bone ground against his sensitised skin. Hal didn't move, letting Ethan adjust to the fullness, to the way his body clenched around the invading heat as if trying to memorise its shape. The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked three measured beats before Hal finally spoke, his voice gravelled with restraint. "Ride me like you mean it, boy."
And Ethan did. His hips rolled with the desperate grace of a mustang breaking free, riding Hal's cock with a rhythm that started frantic but soon found its natural cadence. The bedsprings sang beneath them as Ethan rose nearly to the tip before plunging back down, his sweat-slicked chest heaving with the effort. Hal's hands slid up to palm Ethan's nipples, rolling the tight buds between calloused fingers until Ethan's movements turned jagged with overstimulation.
"Look at you," Hal rasped, his grip tightening on Ethan's hips to still his frantic pace. "Taking daddy's cock like you were made for it," as he punctuated the words with a sharp upward thrust that punched a sob from Ethan's throat. The angle shifted just enough to brush that sweet spot inside him, making Ethan's thighs quake as his cock leaked against Hal's stomach.
Hal took over then, his hands guiding Ethan's body like a marionette's as he set a brutal pace. Each downward plunge coincided with Hal driving up, the force of it rattling the headboard against the wall in time with Ethan's punched-out moans. The old man's beard scraped against Ethan's chest as he leaned forward to bite at a nipple, the dual sensation of sharp teeth and deep thrusts short-circuiting Ethan's ability to think.
Ethan's body bowed like a willow in a storm when Hal's fingers dug into his hips, forcing him down onto that last brutal thrust just as the old man's cock pulsed deep inside him. The pressure was unbearable, Hal's thick length grinding against his prostate with unrelenting precision while his own cock throbbed untouched between them, leaking onto Hal's sweat-slicked abdomen in helpless spurts.
"Come for daddy. I know you can," Hal growled against Ethan's throat, the vibration of his voice travelling straight to Ethan's oversensitive nerves. It wasn't a request. Ethan's vision whited out as his body obeyed without consent, his ass clenching rhythmically around Hal's cock while a dry orgasm wracked him. No semen left to spill after earlier, just prostate fluid jerking from his tip, wave after wave of torturous pleasure that left him gasping like a landed fish.
Hal chuckled darkly at Ethan's ruined expression, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself in thick, hot pulses that flooded Ethan's insides. Ethan could feel each distinct spurt, the first one making his toes curl, the second coaxing a broken whimper from his throat, the third and fourth blending together as Hal held him flush against his pelvis, ensuring not a drop escaped.
"Good boy," Hal murmured when Ethan slumped forward, his forehead resting against the old man's shoulder while his body trembled with aftershocks. Hal's calloused palm smoothed down Ethan's spine, the gesture almost tender if not for the way his other hand remained possessively cupped around Ethan's ass, keeping him impaled as his cock softened inside him.
Moonlight striped their tangled bodies through the gauzy curtains, illuminating the sweat drying on Ethan's hairless chest, the way Hal's cum already glistened at his stretched rim when he finally lifted Ethan off his lap. The bedsprings groaned in protest as Hal manoeuvred them sideways, his arms surprisingly strong for a man his age, tucking Ethan against his chest like a favoured doll, feeling his own cum, dribbling from Ethan as he carried him towards the door.
Ethan's bare feet padded softly across the worn floor as he moved between cabinets, counting forks with the same careful attention to numbers, while the chilli pot bubbled softly on the stove, its rich aroma mingling with the scent of woodsmoke hanging in the air as Hal adjusted the flame.
Ethan looked at Hal’s nudity, finding it attractive from behind as he stood by the stove, stirring the chilli. "Six plates, I guess?" Ethan asked, his voice deliberately light as he stacked bowls that smelled faintly of cedar and lye soap.
Hal's spoon stilled mid-stir, not turning away from his duty, but Ethan saw the way his shoulders tensed as he answered, "Six," the word rougher than the wood grain of the kitchen surface.
A floorboard creaked under Ethan's weight as he stepped closer, close enough to see the scar snaking up Hal's forearm where a barbed wire fence had caught him decades ago, as he reached past Hal for the drawer, deliberately brushing against him, letting their hips bump in the cramped space between stove and counter.
Hal ran his hand over Ethan's bottom. "How's my cute little boy after his time with daddy?"
Ethan's breath caught as Hal's rough palm slid down his bare flank, fingers tracing the sensitive skin where his waist dipped inward, freshly shaved, still tingling from the razor's kiss. “I’m good, and I had a lovely time, daddy,” Ethan responded, his cock twitching against Hal's thigh, hardening in an instant as if pulled taut by invisible strings.
The old man chuckled, low and knowing, his thumb brushing the crest of Ethan's hipbone just hard enough to leave a ghost of pressure behind. "I'll have to deal with you later, me thinks, from the look of you."
“I can’t wait,” Ethan declared with a smile.
Hal straightened abruptly, his knees popping as he crossed to the farmhouse door, slipping his boots on, walking outside. A couple of minutes later, with a smile on his face, Hal returned. “Paid a visit to Devin and Steve in the barn. It appears they’re getting on very well,” Hal told Ethan. “Told them dinner was on, but they were rather distracted, so I left them to it.”
“I’m pleased,” Ethan responded, feeling happy with his own domestic arrangements.
Ten minutes later, Hal went to the door again, the food almost ready to serve. The screen door screeched when he shoved it open, his voice booming across the yard... "Kyle! Dinner's on. Tell Devin and Steve in the barn"... before turning back to find Ethan still standing by the stove, his erection bobbing shamelessly as he stirred the chilli.
Moonlight caught the curve of Ethan's smile, the way his lashes dipped when he met Hal's gaze without shame or hesitation. Something unfamiliar tightened in Hal's chest, not the predatory hunger he knew well, but something warmer, quieter. He had found a young man who liked his attention and fucked him wonderfully well, and as he watched the lad carrying on with his domestic activities, he felt a sadness rise inside at the thought that tomorrow this lad would leave and the fun would all be over.
The screen door slammed again as Kyle dragged John inside by his collar, Devin and I trailing behind with the loose-limbed exhaustion of men who’d shared each other fantastically well.
Ethan stared at John with shock at how his friend looked and what he was wearing, the change in John quite clear. John moved stiffly, his welted thighs whispering together with every step, but his chin stayed lifted, his defiance tempered by something softer now as Kyle's fingers flexed on the lead strap, his gaze flicking between Hal and Ethan with unreadable intensity.
I collapsed onto a kitchen chair with a groan, my forehead thunking against the tabletop. "Christ, I'm starving," I mumbled into the wood grain, my voice muffled as I looked at my mate, John, and then Ethan, who looked extremely happy in his surroundings. Then I noticed, “fuck”, I mumbled, he’s been shaved.
My eyes refused to look away at that moment in time as I surveyed Ethan’s new look, trying to decide if I liked the way he… looked so young. Christ, I thought, he looks like a teenager, as Devin snorted, ruffling my hair like an indulgent older brother before reaching past Ethan for the chilli pot, his forearm brushing Ethan's bare hip.
Hal looked at Kyle and then John, who was now eating the chilli with urgency. "I see you had to break him in, Kyle?"
Kyle's fingers tightened around John's lead strap, the leather creaking under his grip as he glanced down at the welted man slurping chilli with trembling hands. "Broke him proper, grandpa," he said, voice rough with satisfaction. "Took twenty strokes and a good fuck to get there, but he's kneeling sweet now," as John's spoon stilled mid-air at the words, his bruised throat working as he swallowed hard, whether from the spice or the memory, no one could say.
Hal's gaze slid to Devin, who was leaning against the chair I occupied, with my head resting against his thigh. "And you?" Hal's voice was deceptively light as he stirred his chilli, but everyone heard the weight behind it. "I assume you connected with your boy, Devin?"
Devin's fingers stilled in my hair, as he didn't answer right away, studying the way my shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly at the question. "Yeah, grandpa," Devin finally said, quieter than usual. "Different from Kyle's way, but... yeah," as his thumb brushed the shell of my ear, a gesture too tender for the barn's earlier tenderness filled with sex. I exhaled sharply through my nose, my spoon clattering against the bowl as my fingers twitched, with the desire to reach for Devin, but I thought twice about doing so.
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