WWOOF

I bought a home in a small wayward village one hundred miles away from a large city where I was employed. With modern technology, I was able to work from home, and only had to spend two or three days a month in the city. Fortunately, I had a good friend who accommodated me during my visits, and I always reciprocated his kindness by taking him out to dinner during my visits. An additional bonus of this was that I visited gay bars and saunas during my stay.

Six months after I bought my home, I met Jan and Sue. Thereafter, Jan and Sue always told all and sundry, that I had influenced them to buy their property in the area. Jan was of Dutch origin and had the unusual surname of Vingerhoets. As I was to learn, a ‘vingerhoets’ is a foxglove in Dutch, and they named their smallholding Foxglove Farm. They were organic fanatics and completely fixated on the natural and sustainable way of life. They never fully integrated into the local community, most of who found them rather odd. This never bothered them, and they went about their business unfazed by the local sentiments toward them.

I was one of the few people who interacted with them. Sadly, fussy Sue was a pain in the arse when it came to food, and apart from the odd bit of chicken, was almost entirely vegetarian. When entertaining them, I always made sure that I made a vegetarian stew as the main dish. To Jan’s joy, I also made the odd bit of red meat, usually a steak, which he scoffed with relish. Dinners at their home, however, would be a taciturn topic. Although there was no absence of spice and seasoning, many of the dishes in sustaining the planet, were an ordeal for me.

Before I get too carried away, let me get on with the purpose of my story. Because of Jan and Sue, I became aware of Wwoofers. The acronym stood for; World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms, or Willing Workers on Organic Farms. In short, these were individuals that travelled the globe and worked on farms like Jan and Sue’s, for free lodging and food. In this way, they traversed the globe on a shoestring.

Because I lived in a home close to the only store in the village, Jan and Sue always suggested that their Wwoofer’s pop and say hi to me when passing by. I did not mind this because I knew that Jan and Sue were rather miserly, I made sure that the hardworking ‘slaves’ were given a treat of steak, booze, and proper coffee during their visits.

The people I met were mostly individuals, but fairly often they were couples. The most endearing couple I recall came from Holland. He was Irish and gorgeous, and she was Dutch. Sadly, nothing happened during their visit, to my dismay. Much as I would’ve loved a bisexual encounter, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

One of the individuals that worked for them was a German guy. Herman was a skanky man, and quickly made it known that he liked to fool around. Herman’s greatest redeeming feature was that he had an extremely large cock which I often sucked at the expense of copious amounts of beer. The sex with him, however, was infinitely forgettable. Herman simply loved having his dick sucked and offered no reciprocal affection. Talented as he was, physically, he was fuckin’ boring.

Before I continue with my story, I need to relate the following information:

Living in this rural village, I became a regular at our local pub, and at least twice a week enjoyed their supper ‘specials,’ which offered the most unbelievable value for money. I also became friendly with the local people at the pub, and once they began to relax about the fact that I was gay, got on famously with the majority of them. As one would expect, one or two men always remained wary of me, but I did not allow this to irritate me. The funniest aspect of my interactions was that after a few drinks most of the men chilled and became touchy-feely. One man even began to refer to me as his pet queer as he jokingly fondled me.

Sadly, none of these mock sexual deviations ever progressed any further, but the point of my message is; that I began to develop a taste for ripe manly odour, as I regularly mingled with these agrarian hunks after they had worked hard all day.

I had never had an olfactory aversion to musky men in the past, but in this new environment, my parameters had developed to muskier levels. In bed, later that night, severe penis abuse resulted, as I wanked vigorously to the reminiscent smells of pungent manliness.  

My odourous predilections were finally realized, when two new Wwoofer’s, named Gabriel and Leo commenced working for Jan and Sue.

They were both French and would be working for Jan and Sue for six weeks.

I met Gabriel and Leo a couple of days after they commenced their stint with Jan and Sue. Sue and I always communicated when either one of us was about to visit the small town twenty miles away from our village, where we did our grocery shopping. This gesture was a courteous convenience that we extended to one another, for odds and sods we were running out of and saved us an unscheduled trip into town.

When Sue phoned to ask if I would be going to town, it so happened that I was planning a trip later that day. I always liked to shop later in the afternoon, when business at the supermarket was tailing off. She explained that the two Wwoofer’s, Gabriel and Leo, needed to buy a few things and would appreciate it if I would allow them to tag along with me.

When Gabriel and Leo arrived at my home at three that afternoon, my eyes almost spun in my head. They were gorgeous! Both men were around five-foot-ten-inches-tall, and lithe. Slim as they were, one could clearly see they were tough, and slightly on the rough side. They looked a little ragged and skanky, but given the work of Jan and Sue’s farm, this was hardly surprising.

Gabriel was the more handsome of the two and had a mop of curly brown, shoulder-length hair. Leo’s hair was short and darkish-blond. Leo had a sexy coarseness about him and was the quieter of the two. Both men spoke good English, with heavy French accents. It soon became clear that Gabriel was the spokesperson, and that Leo was the ‘muscleman’ of the duo. 

Once we got into my vehicle and commenced our twenty-minute journey, there was a very potent masculine smell in my car. Gabriel immediately apologized, explaining they had not been about to shower for two days because of Jan’s plumbing problem.

I instantly said that it did not bother me at all. In truth, I found it rather sexy.

When I asked about Sue’s cooking, I heard Leo, who was sitting in the back, let out a chortle.

“Well, guys, if you like, I’ll make us steak for dinner,” I offered, as I had done for many Woofers before.

A resounding murmur of consent then erupted in my vehicle.

I knew that Leo and Gabriel were aware that I was gay. As we, all know, with straight people, one’s homosexuality is always a precursor to any mention of or discussion about you.

Upon our arrival at the supermarket, I quickly phoned Sue to tell her of my plans. As always, she was very happy to get an evening off from her nightly feeding routine.

I made sure that I bought three large rump steaks, a packet of oven fries, and salad ingredients, among my other purchases. As was always the case with Woofer’s, they bought decent coffee, biscuits, and tinned meat.

On our way back, I decided to test the water with the two men. It had become clear to me that their camaraderie seemed to have an element of affection. Of course, I did realize that perhaps lust was compromising my gaydar.

“Most of your accommodation, I would imagine, is rather rustic. How do you cope when it’s very cold?” I asked.

“Well… We combine our sleeping bags into one, and rely on each other’s body warmth,” Gabriel nonchalantly replied.

“Sounds like fun,” I cheekily retorted.

With a mischievous giggle, Gabriel responded, “It works for us.”

Once home, I made sure the booze flowed as I went about my work.

“We don’t want to be any trouble, but would you mind if we shower before we leave?” Gabriel asked.

With horniness swamping my brain, I presumptively played my lust card by replying, “Why don’t you shower in the morning before you leave?”

For once, Leo now spoke up. “Yeah… Then maybe Gabriel and I can show you how we keep warm in winter.”

‘Bingo, slam-dunk, fuuuck yeah,’ my brain simmered, as my knees almost gave way under me. I was sure that we were all on the same page by now, and that I was in for a fantastic evening.

As we sat down to a delicious supper, our flirting eyes were becoming even more active than our mouths. By now, Leo had taken command with his demeanour, and Gabriel was demurely acquiescent.

With every glass of red wine, Leo’s eyes began taking on an ever-increasing salaciousness.

By the time, dinner was over and we had cleared the table, Leo was groping me and grinding his crotch into me. Luckily, Gabriel also began participating.

As the melee of lust commenced, I found myself being steered toward my bedroom. Once there, clothing began flying off our bodies in a manic tumult.

After we were all naked, Leo jumped onto the bed and said, “Come, Cochon, you wouldn’t let us shower earlier, now you must use your tongue to clean us.”

I then watched as Gabriel lay next to Leo.

“We are ready for you, Cochon, start with our feet,” Leo commanded.

Every bit of suppressed torture I had endured in this enclave of masculinity kicked in as I steadily moved from foot to foot, and licked like a piggy in heaven. As I constantly glanced upward, I saw the two men snogging one another rapaciously.

‘Jesus, his is even hotter than I imagined,’ I thought. Above all, the two impressive uncut cocks I beheld, inspired me to do my very best.

After licking all four of their feet, Leo issued his following command. “Armpits next.”

Neither man had smelly feet, but their armpits comprehensively made up for that. The pong in my vehicle, earlier that afternoon, took my taste buds beyond anything I had ever savored before. The sickly sweet tanginess was off-putting initially, but amazingly, I soon began to take to it, like a reluctant person who had inexplicably and suddenly, developed a taste for salty olives.

When I finally made my way downward, I decided to attack Gabriel’s dick, the slightly smaller of the two, first. Although there was a mild smell of blue cheese, it was not that bad. In any case, I liked blue cheese.

When I, however, moved on to Leo, I thought I smelled a ripe Limburger cheese. It was hectic. Luckily, by now, I was so horny that I did not care.

After all my licking duties had ceased, my night of bliss got underway.

These two French fuckers were sex maniacs. One after the other they fucked me repeatedly. In between, when I was getting spit-roasted, the two horny bastards fucked one another as one or the other had his cock in my arse.

When they left early the following morning, after a shower where even more action took place, I took the entire day to recover.  

Sue phoned me the following day to complain that Gabriel and Leo had been useless that day, and advised that if I did invite them again, it should be on a Saturday night because they did no work on Sundays. With a giggle, she then asked if I still had any red wine left after their visit.

Happily, their Saturday night visits became routine after that, until they finally left.