A gay story: Carter City Farms Carter Creek Farms CH 01
Two boyhood friends meet again after college
This story is original fiction in 2 chapters, both complete and posted. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. Arguably, the story involves incest–if you consider sex between two guys, one of each of whose parents married late in life. There is no biological connection. No AI was used in the creation of this story. © 2023, all rights reserved. Brunosden
My second year at State was over. I had gotten beyond all the required courses and was deep into my major: Agri-Economics. I’ve made Dean’s list every semester. Next year will be my last because of AP and Extension Credits and an extra summer semester. I guess it goes without saying that I’ve been raised on a farm–originally growing corn, winter wheat, and recently, an experiment in organic vegetables–the latter subscribed by high end groceries and restaurants in Chicago-land. I expect to follow the multi-generational pattern of my family–I will farm, presumably our half section–320 acres, give or take.
An entrepreneur had come to us (and about a dozen other medium sized family farmers) and with a different kind of proposal: they would tell us what to grow, what fertilizers and pesticides we could use, and they would guaranty to take the results–however good or bad for a set price. We signed up and were started on a new venture.
So did the family of my best friend, Tommy Manley. They lived on the next farm west. Tom had never known his mother, and his three sisters were married, and definitely not interested in farm life. I too am the only boy in the family, but I have two step-sisters, both older, married and living in Houston where they are nurses. My mother had also died when I was young, but Dad had remarried a woman he met at a church convention. She had two older daughters who came with her. We weren’t close in age or close personally.
Tommy had been my playmate and then my soul mate for my entire life. Both of us had older sisters from whom we needed refuge. Both of us lived on remote farms, so we were the only potential friends. We rode the school bus together, ate together, biked and hiked together, did chores together. In a sense we were closer than most blood brothers. We’ll celebrate our 21st birthdays this August, a few days apart.
Tom and I followed the same path (with AP Credits and Online Courses at CC during COVID). At graduation I went on to State while he had decided to take a gap year and was working on his family’s farm–ostensibly to determine whether that would be his future, but also because his Dad wasn’t in great health. Meanwhile he had used his evenings to pick up another semester at the CC online. Within a semester, he enrolled full time (with classes mostly at night) following a tech path in agricultural machinery operation, design, maintenance and repair. His formal schooling was now just about over.
To finish early, I had stayed on at State last summer and did another semester. Then, just after the fall semester started, Dad was killed in an accident involving faulty agricultural machinery during the fall harvest. The insurance claims were still pending–and, although my mother was going to be set for life with the settlement in all likelihood, she was in danger of losing the farm before it all could be worked out. I went home briefly for the funeral, but immediately felt a change in my mother and strangeness in our home. We had never been close, and Dad’s death seemed to be closing the door.
William Manley had proposed to manage our land with his, keeping our two hands, (the winter wheat crop) for a year until she could decide what to do in the spring. She accepted and the deal was struck. Then, just after winter break, she called. She had an announcement: she was going to marry Bill. They tied the knot only a few weeks later “in a private ceremony” and she moved to his farm. I didn’t make it to the marriage which was scheduled during exam period. So, Tommy and I are now step-bros. Tommy was, as I said, my best friend. But, I wasn’t wild about him as a bro–or my mother’s decision to re-marry less than a year after Dad’s death. They had already moved my room to Bill’s farmhouse. So, at this point, I had little to say about it.
So here we were at the beginning of my last summer before my last year at State and deciding on a career, at the cusp of adulthood, theoretically.
Tommy offered to drive up (about five hours each way–Kansas State was a little to the east of the center of the State; our farm was right in the southwest corner) to help me move my stuff out of the dorm for the summer. When I returned in the fall, it would be to an apartment: seniors were pushed off campus. The first crops were in the ground and there is a lull when the old-time farm hands could easily control the irrigation requirements–and Mom and my new Dad were off on a two week cruise–as a honeymoon and before the back-breaking labor of summer farm work dropped on us and when our contract labor needed close supervision.
My name is John Kelly Baker (actually III), generally known as JK or Blackie, the latter because of my full head of curly black hair, bushy dark eyebrows, dark brown, almost black’ eyes. (I also have a five o’clock shadow, some black body hair, mostly shaved., (And pubes, carefully controlled–but most people who use the name don’t know that.) I’m tall, over 6 feet, muscled from farm-work since childhood, but not athletic–there never was time. I’ve got a deep concave gut with visible abs, and slim waist and hips–which nicely show off my 71/2 cut dick. My skin is “Mediterranean”–dark and easily tanned.
I didn’t date much in high school or play sports. In fact, I think I matured rather late. The first two years of college weren’t much different–although I did go out for track and made the JV team and my “big city” (Wichita) roommate embarrassed me into dating and cured me of my excessive modesty. Being an athlete, he was very casual about nudity in the dorm. I’m coming back to Carter Creek a changed boy: more confident, more worldly (if that’s even possible in mid-Kansas), more conscious of my physical appeal, but still at heart a farm boy. Except for a few days at holidays and the funeral, I’ve seen very little of Carter Creek for since summer almost two years ago.
Tommy should be here within the hour, around 2. He texted me on his last pee stop. I’m packed and ready to go.
I know you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Drum roll, please. In the last year, thanks to my roommate, I’ve discovered that I’m bi, maybe gay. We’re not an item, but we have jacked together and tasted each other’s cum. But when I jack alone, it’s to Tommy’s image. We’re going to be living and working together this summer. He plans to come back with me to State next fall to pick up a few necessary AG courses, mainly to satisfy the banks that he’s a real farmer and creditworthy when he takes over his Dad’s farm. And he’s now my bro!
I heard the horn, read the text, and started down with the first two boxes. Tommy was standing by his truck, actually leaning on it, browsing his cell. The sun highlighted his short straw blonde hair and wide toothy dimpled smile. He was poured into jeans that he’d probably been wearing for several years. The knees were threadbare; his basket threatened to burst out; and, his ass cheeks were stretching the limits. It was hot and he had taken off his tee to wipe the perspiration from his brow. Tanned pecs, big dark nibs, and cut abs glistened with moisture and a nice curly trail led to his treasure. I was so taken that I nearly tripped and dropped the boxes. He rushed up and took them from me. He swung them into the truck bed, turned and pulled me into a bro-hug. Suddenly, he stepped back, realizing he had used my own tee to absorb his sweat.
“Sorry about that, bro. I guess we’re gonna smell the same now. JK, bro–that’s the first time I get to use that–it’s good to see you. You definitely look much more intelligent than when I saw you last. State has done good by you. Sorry, that we missed at Christmas. Dad had decided I needed that family reunion before what turned out to be the wedding.”
I hadn’t seen him in months. But, he was everything I had remembered–a 6-2, muscled blond guy that looked like a California surfer. If anything, he was more masculine, more assured than when we had last talked. “I’ve got a few suitcases and two more boxes. You look good too….bro…..You’ve put on a little weight in the right places. Would you like something to eat? A shower? Anything else (including me, I thought) before we start the homeward drive?”
“Maybe some cold water and a clean tee if you’ve got one handy. I’m gonna sleep in the cab for the first hour or so. You’ll be driving. I think you’ve put on some pounds too. Must be that great college food! And you definitely need a haircut–can you even see well enough to drive?”
“Dad didn’t want me to drive both ways in one day and made me promise we’d do a motel–but he didn’t insist where. But, he’s paying–including a nice dinner. Let’s see how far we get this afternoon. I’m already up for a nice cool swim before dinner.”
Soon we were on the Interstate, headed west, me at the wheel, Tommy snoring lightly on the reclined seat. And my thoughts flipped back and forth: do I ignore my feelings and fake the whole summer? Can I? Or do I make a play, or perhaps even confess and risk everything? More than an hour later, my arguments with myself were no closer to resolution. I had periodically, glanced over at his sleeping form. Now, more than ever, I wanted him. But, he had never given me a sign that he’d be receptive to anything more than friendship. Tommy’s eyes popped open. He was ready to talk.
“So how’s life with a woman in the house?”
“Well, she’s changed all the furniture. They painted the homestead. She’s moved their bedroom to the guest room on the first floor and had it remodeled. And they go to church a lot. Dad seems really happy, but I think I’m like a third wheel. Fortunately with night classes and farm chores, I’m not around very much.”
“Didn’t you see the marriage coming?”
“Not at all. You knew the same day that I did. They were really quiet about it–and I was out most nights–the CC classes I was taking were held Monday to Thursday from 6 to 9, and it’s almost an hour’s drive from our place. So I was rarely home, except when in the barn or the fields.”
“Your mom’s been boring us to death with all your academic accomplishments–Dean’s List, scholarship for next year, perfect major for a future farmer, making the track team. Curiously, it was all statistics and accomplishments. Not a lot about you. What I really want to know is how was the scene? Do you have a girl? What does she look like? Are you getting any? Are you still a virgin?”
“You go first.”
“Not much to tell. You know the Carter Creek scene: quiet, quiet, quiet; and our county: dry, dry, dry. I think every desirable girl in our high school graduating class is off to school or already married. There are no women in my classes at CC-Tech. So there’s been no “young lady” to keep me company or warm at night. My right hand has calluses on calluses, and my truck knows the way to the package store on the other side of the state border better than any homing pigeon. The owner doesn’t even ask for my fake card anymore.”
I laughed. “You’re the one who decided to stay home, boy.”
“Well, I’m just saving myself for the right person. So I’m ready for some really juicy stories. Spill’m, bro.”
“I’m warning you. This is x-rated stuff–and not to be repeated at home. I’m skipping the first year. It was a nothing burger. But after that year, my new roommate dragged me to a mixer the first weekend of the fall semester. He introduced me to one of his castoffs–one of the upperclass hot ones. The following weekend, she invited me back to her sorority where the world’s biggest orgy was in progress. She had nice firm tits, a terrific ass, long legs, nice hair, better lips. We grabbed some spiked punch and headed for her room. She was all over me as soon as we closed the door. I got to suck on her titties and finger her clit. She was moaning into me big time. I could tell I had a hot one. She unzipped me, grabbed my 9 inch rock hard dick, purred and pulled it into her mouth. Then she handed me a condom and stripped. I rolled it on, lubed it, and rolled on top of her. I pumped. She wasn’t that tight, but tight enough. But she was warm and anxious. She moaned. And then she took my cherry. She told me later that I had a really talented dick. She wanted more of me and it. We’ve been bed-buddies ever since. Several times, she’s even invited sisters to join us. I’m a damn good lover and already have a rep as a hung, talented cocksman.”
Throughout this brief tale, I was glancing over at Tommy. He was about to burst out of his jeans. But, Tommy was also studying my face. Then his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Bullshit. You’re still a virgin, bro. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Well, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Nine inches my ass. That’s what gave it away. I’ve seen you bro. Maybe on a good day you might make 7 1/2.”
I decided to keep up the banter. I could tell he was still hard. “Actually, I’ve continued to grow at State. And I have had a few dates, none of which amounted to much. I’ve gotten on base several times. I know what a breast feels like and how it feels to suck. I’ve gotten my fingers dirty and fragrant–I didn’t wash that hand for two days. I’ve creamed my jeans more than once during a make-out session. No score though.”
“Hell, that’s not much more than we got in high school. I’m not sure I made the wrong decision about State if that’s all there is.”
I took a breath. Here goes: “But my roommate–the new one–iss a real player. He’s an athlete–basketball. I’m sure he’s headed for varsity. He’s tall with light muscles. Good looking light-skinned black guy with a long thin dick–probably more than six when hanging limp. He’s a chick magnet and pretty glib. I think he could talk his way into someone’s pants in a few seconds. He seems to have a different girl every week, and he likes to brag. I’ve heard all the details of his conquests–when, where, how, how she felt, how tight she was, how she moaned, how she begged him for it. His story telling was real good and I got hard every time. I think he liked to tease me, and a lot of what he claimed was probably his imagination.”
“After a few months, he admitted he was bi and that he’d also gotten it on with some guys. He claimed they had seen him in the locker or shower and come on to him because of his size. He wasn’t one to turn down a good blow or an open hole. Sometimes a threesome with a coed, but even one-on-one male sex. I’ve gotten a real education from him. He’s better than most porn. He never leaves the dorm without a handful of wrappers and tubes of lube. A real boy scout.”
“Now I think maybe you’re telling the truth. Did he ever try to put the make on you?”
“Maybe. Not sure. Not even sure what that means. We beat off together a few times. We’ve played speed-jack and long-jack. He’s really hung. He surprised me once and blew me, but I didn’t recip. And he did invite me to a threesome–but I wasn’t up for that.” (Not all of this was exactly true–I had gone much farther with Brent, but I wasn’t pushing it with Tommy yet. Maybe I’d give him the details later.)
“Wow. My bro is really a player.”
“Nah. Not really. Just at the beginning of my sexual life, trying to decide who I am and what I like.”
“I can see you’ve got a stiff one just talking about this. I guess you’ve got a pretty good imagination.”
“I think you could say that. You need it at State–they block just about all porn from the wi-fi. So all we’ve got is what we download when we go to town to Starbucks.”
“Bummer. Isn’t that unconstitutional? We’ll have to collect a major library for you this summer.”
“YOU? So I guess you’re not enrolling next September?”
“No, I’m not. I’ve decided the AA is all I need for what I have in mind. Dad is talking about turning over most of the farm management to me after this summer’s crop. I really don’t need more book-learnin’. Besides, you’ll be around, with the head and a library.”
So he was already assuming I’d be back in Carter Creek after next year, probably taking over my family’s place. We’d be neighbors, trading equipment, advice, and maybe some financial expertise.
By then, I had been driving for almost three hours. It was late afternoon and the sun was blinding me as it began to set in the west. We reached the last Interstate exit in Kansas going west and turned off to head south on the slower county roads. There were several motels–all with pools at the exit. We also saw a Ponderosa where we could get some inexpensive steaks.
“I vote that we stop here for the night.”
Soon we had registered at the Holiday Inn and pulled around to the back to park in front of our room on the first floor. We wondered about security–my stuff was all in the open bed, but decided we were close enough that moving it all to the cab was not necessary. We each carried a small travel duffel into the room–which was blasting cold air. We both eyed the single king, covered in a gaudy spread–the cheapest room available. Neither of us commented. “Let’s try that pool.”
I opened the duffel, pulled out my square cut and threw it on the bed. Then, I stripped and walked around the bed, naked, to use the toilet. His eyes didn’t leave my body. “Track has been good to you. You’ve got nice legs and a nicer ass.”
“Bro, are you perving on my ass?” I teased with a wiggle.
He reddened, but went silent. When I got back to the bed, he too had stripped, but his back was to me as he pulled up his board shorts. He had a nice bubble ass, covered in a soft peach fuzz. I threw him one of the towels and moved to the door. He was right behind me, clearly scoping out my butt under the tight spandex suit.
We jumped in and started horsing around. It felt cold, but wonderful. We started playing dunk. We were alone in the pool and all over it. Grabbing and throwing each other up and into the water. Once or twice he dunked me–and I let him because he had gripped my chest and pulled me into him to do so. He was probably stronger than I, but not by much. He was clearly using more hands and arms than strictly required to accomplish the dunking. More than once, his hand slipped and he grabbed my equipment to hoist me up and throw me into the water. He was definitely grabbing my ass. I was definitely chubbed and it was quite obvious. And when he pulled me into him to leverage one dunk, I could feel his hardness. Interesting.
We got back to the room and quickly re-dressed for dinner. The steaks were just okay. The conversation was mostly about nothing–reminiscing about the “good ole days”, but dinner at Ponderosa doesn’t take much time–and the restaurant was in a dry county. But, I could tell he was looking at me in a very different way. As we walked back over the parking lot to the room, his arm was draped loosely (“bro-like”) over my shoulder. I decided it was time to break the ice.
“Something’s troubling you, Tommy. Is it the story I told you in the truck earlier?”
“You got it, bro. Not sure I want to talk about it. You’re my bro. I’ve known you forever. And we’re going to be around each other a lot this summer. Up until a few months ago, I assumed we’d be roommates next fall at State. Now you just told me you’re gay and you’re playing around with another guy–a big tall, endowed basketball giant. And you’re gonna leave me alone in Carter Creek in September. Are you even planning to come back home?”
“Tommy, I didn’t say I was gay. And, I’m not playing around with Brent. I told you I’d been doing some experimenting. I like you, bro. I always have. I’d be crazy if I weren’t attracted to you. You’re a hunk, a good looking, muscled, hung hunk. Don’t sell yourself short. There, I’ve said it. If you want me to sleep in the truck, I’ll leave now. And I’ll find an excuse not to be at the farms this summer.”
“But we’re bros. I love you bro.”
“We’re not bros–we’re late-in-life step relations. We have different moms and dads. Your dad’s wife is not even my mother. She’s my step-mother. We are not blood, boy. Although that wouldn’t bother me. I think I’ve been attracted to you for years–before I even knew what that meant. I’ve even daydreamed about us being together and taking over the farms when we graduate. We both know your Dad and my step-mother are anxious to get out.”
“We’ve known each other forever. We’re more bros that most blood brothers.”
“Well, I’ve got a few things to say also. I’ve always been into you. You’ve been my best bud forever. I feel more like I can be myself with you–anytime. I like your hair, your eyes, your bod–and of course your long cock–especially that big uncut plum on the end. I’ve always been envious of how casual you are about being naked. And the way you attract girls. But, I never dared to put words to those feelings–not even to myself before tonight. I’m just not sure. But, I’m pretty sure I’m not gay. Can’t you just like a guy as a best friend?”
“Okay, you’re not gay. And I’m not gay. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun. I think it’s time to take this to the next level, bro. Thee’s only one bed. And I sleep nude these days. Is that going to weird you out? Or are you ready to try a little fun? Let’s see where our bodies want to go. Let’s holster the brains for a few hours. We can decide how we want to handle tomorrow then. Right now, I’m just about ready to blast off. And I’d like you on my rocketship. Two guys can get it off together; it doesn’t make them gay.”
Tommy paused for a few minutes and headed for the bathroom When he came out, he was nude. I guess I had my answer. I stripped and jumped into the king. Tommy’s words were not echoed by his actions. He jumped in too and we were soon wrestling like the old days. Within seconds we were in a tight embrace. I probed his lips with mine and at first he he backed off. I tried again and he locked. I opened and pushed my tongue into him. In less than a minute, our tongues were battling. We backed off again, and I took his hand and placed it on my dick. It hardened, and his hand tightened. “I guess there’s a first time for everything. You feel pretty good bro. It’s long and hot and hard–and you’re already leaking. I guess your little guy likes my hand.”
“As you admitted before, your hand has had a lot of experience. You know what to do. Go ahead. Stroke it.”
I reached over and cupped his balls. They were smooth, hot and moist. I rolled them around and squeezed lightly. Then I moved up and wrapped my fingers around his girth. The tips didn’t reach. He was a fat one! My fingers reached up to the hood and slipped it down. “I wish I had one of these. It makes you so mysterious and sexy. I have to strip you before it’s ready.” But, we were both too excited for this to last. “I’m comin’ Tommy. Fist the head so I don’t soak the sheets. We need to sleep in this bed.”
“Yes, sir. But, I am too. So take the head.”
I decided to “take” him literally. I bent down, used my lips to push down the hood, and sucked his knob into my mouth. He gasped when I took him inside as my fingers stroked his balls. “Bro, no. That’s just too gay.” But, he was absolutely cocked and ready. And he didn’t pull back. Barely was it inside than he started to pump, squirm, then spasm, then explode. His cream was thick and tasted like salted honey. My farm boy bro was producing good stuff. As he climaxed, his hand froze on my dick. Then he started stroking me, fast and hard. A few more and I filled his fist. “I’m not gonna taste this,” he whispered.
“We’ll see.” I quickly rolled on top and captured his stroking hand with mine. Slowly, I pulled it too his lips. Even more slowly, his tongue reached out at got a quick taste.
I saw the sour face. “Yuuck! Why’d you make me do that, JK? I guess it’s an acquired taste. I guess it proves I’m not gay.” He went silent for a few minutes. He was re-thinking the whole scene. “But, fuck, JK, that was the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I think I like having some help. And I sure like the guy who was helping.”
I moved up on the bed and we kissed again–obviously exchanging our essence. He groaned into my lips and moved in tight. He joked immediately, bringing down the seriousness, “Our cums blend well. I’m gonna send the recipe to the Church ladies for next year’s cookbook. When they discover the ingredients to our ‘nog’, they’ll probably burn the books–and maybe us as well.”
We necked more, never really letting go of each others’ cocks unless we were hugging and fingers were trailing over ass cheeks, straying occasionally into the crevices. Tommy was alive with multiple erogenous zones. I think I found many of them. We jacked again–slower and with the bedside light on. We were after-all experimenting and who experiments in the dark? At first he tensed when we were lit by the dim light, but soon he regained that elfin smile that I so cherished. After the last blast, I could tell that Tommy, who had done most of the driving, was about to sleep. “There’s one more thing that I’ve learned I love. Turn around. I’m gonna help you sleep and dream of me.”
“You’re not getting in my ass, JK. Forget it. Enough for one day.”
(One day? Interesting phrase.)
“Quiet. I wouldn’t dream of taking your anal virginity–or giving you mine on the first date.”
I pulled him hard into my gut, threw a leg over his and lodged my dick in his crack. “This is the best way to sleep in the world. We’ll take turns, I promise.” Soon I too was asleep, but not before wondering about his feelings of remorse in the morning. Hopefully, his dreams would overcome any of them. If not, I would always have his morning wood to try to convince him otherwise.
********
I woke when a stray ray of sunshine broke through an opening in the blackout drapes. I started to move, but realized I was immobile. Sometime during the night Tommy had reversed the spoon. His lips were on the nape of my neck, as he sucked lightly. One arm had snaked under the pillow and was holding hard on my right pec, the thumb flicking the nipple lazily–sending electric sensations through me. Another arm had crawled over my waist and his big callused hand was holding my balls firmly with fingers circling my rigid morning cock. And his dick (which turned out to be quite a bit more than the short fireplug I had initially thought, maybe 8?) was wedged between my thighs, stroking my taint, even touching my rim occasionally, one of his powerful legs over mine. He was stiff and pumping his “pillow”, getting ready to plant his proverbial seed–all apparently in his dreamland. We were almost exactly the reverse of where we had started the night. Not quite what I expected after last night, but not unpleasant, not unpleasant at all. Here I had been worried about his second-thoughts, but here he was already showing his “top” tendencies.
I pushed my ass back into his gut and squeezed my thighs together. We were hot and moist. He pumped harder and faster, still asleep. I raised one hand to my mouth, spit on my thumb and reached down to push down his hood and pet his swollen glans. He jerked hard with the sensitivity, but remained asleep. But, he continued to pump slowly. I felt his gut draw in and seconds later, he shot his cream, a full morning dose, into the sheets. He groaned and slurred, “On, Blackie, you feel so good.”
I released the thigh pressure on his shrinking dick, and he rolled back, releasing my dick and balls, smiling but with his eyes still shut. He even snored a few breaths. Minutes later, his eyes popped open. He stretched like a fully satisfied cat. The wet sheets and whispered words were testament to the fact that I need not worry about first time remorse. He was into this, no me, subconsciously–and probably in real life.
“Good morning, JK. I feel really great. Terrific night’s sleep. Wonderful dreams. I’m going to get a quick shower. Then a coffee and we’re out of here. Care to join me?” With those words, he leered and rolled into me, planting his semi in my crack. “Shit, did you wet the bed?”
“Does it smell like urine? You, boy, have just jerked all over me. So I will take the shower with you. You can clean me. And you owe me one.”
“JK, I guess I’m gonna be okay with last night. Should make the summer and next year very interesting. I’ll take care of that wood in the shower.” With that he quickly sat up, turned and swatted my ass several times. Then he grabbed it. “Really nice ass, bro.”
The shower was small–a tub with a curtain, so there wasn’t much room to play. We soaped each other, but almost immediately one arm circled my waist and pulled me into his gut, as his other hand squeezed my balls. I could feel his cock between my legs. He was hard again. Then he slowly stroked me to ejaculation. He was definitely taking the initiative. Maybe he was also taking charge. In less than 24 hours, he had gone from my good friend and innocent boy to a sex fiend–a take charge guy and probable top. He still claimed he was hetero, but he sure liked my dick and my ass. I had trapped a tiger–a very good looking “white tiger”. Now I had to turn him into my pussycat before he devoured me. I desperately wanted my dick in his peach-fuzz covered ass. And I wanted him to offer it to me. And moan in pleasure when I plunged into him and filled him with my spunk. Somehow in my dreams, I had never thought of myself as his bottom. The next few days would be very challenging. But, my fear was gone: I’d have him. The only question was when. BD