A gay story: A Summer at the Farm Ch. 10
Blake agrees to spend the summer at Joe’s farm to lend a helping hand to his girlfriend’s father and make a few bucks. That sounds like the perfect plan for his jealous girlfriend. Stuck at the farm, Blake will not cheat on her while she is away… If only she knew!
All characters featured in the story are above 18.
This story is entirely fictional and only meant to be read by a mature audience, and in any case, by people over the age of 18.
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A SUMMER AT THE FARM
Chapter 10: Returning the Favour
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I had to get it together.
For the life of me, I had to stop glancing at Joe’s body every time he would decide to walk around the farm naked, – which was basically all the damn time at this point -, his massive flaccid dick flopping around.
The degree of nudity around the house had escalated quickly.
On the first night, Joe was wearing a poorly wrapped bathrobe. I thought this was inappropriate at the time but there was (sort of) an attempt at covering up.
The following days, he was not wearing much to work outside, shorts and boots at most, – which was understandable given the heat -, and I noticed that he was sleeping in his birthday suit.
I could catch him naked before and after bed time, or when he was about to take a shower.
Then, he started to take his breakfast in the nude. The coffee sometimes dripping on his bushy pubic hair.
And now, about ten days in, he was wearing an even smaller pair of shorts when we were outside (going commando, of course), but he was taking it right off to get stark naked as soon as we would step foot inside.
Coincidentally or not, my obsession for Joe’s genitals seemed to be growing as he was wearing less and less clothes around me.
Not even mentioning the events of the poker game and the night which had followed…
As I said, I had to take back control over my libido!
I promised to myself that I would never let anything sus happen with Joe again, (I mean, nothing more suspicious than what we had already done), and I tried my best not to think about Bob’s mysterious comment on their activities at the cruising place on the Friday afternoons.
I vaguely remembered that on my first Friday at the farm, Joe had gone for an errand which had lasted for longer than usual, but I could have gotten my days wrong.
In any event, this was not my business.
Joe could do whatever he saw fit with his farm buddies, throat-fuck them until they pass out if he wanted to, but I was certainly not going to take part in any of it.
Olivia and I were attempting to maintain our relationship despite the distance by finding slots to take some calls together.
We never had enough intimacy to do cam sex or anything of this nature though, maybe that would have helped me cope with my urges.
At the very least, I could tell that she was missing me.
It meant a lot to Liv that I was staying at her dad’s and consequently, that I was, for sure, remaining faithful to her.
Outside of the weird gay thoughts which were popping in my brain, I would say that things were starting to settle down at the farm.
Joe and I were now used to be living together. I had learnt to cope with his bluntness and carelessness (and his obscene nudity), while he was more respectful of my space and seemed to be happy with the job I was doing.
He was praising me to Olivia which was a great way to score points with my girlfriend.
All and all, even the poker night had helped me gain some more respect with Joe. I was part of the farmers’ crew, horsing around with his buddies!
Of course, Joe had no idea that Bob had sucked me off in the gas station’s restrooms, and again in his own bathroom, but what he did not know could not hurt him (nor it could hurt myself).
I firmly believed that if Joe were to find out that I had cheated on his daughter with one of his mates, he would downright kill me.
I had vivid nightmares where he was doing so using only his bare hands.
There was no murder to notify at the farm though.
The following couple of days went by without any noticeable incident.
I was waking Joe up every day after his nap, and yes, I was glancing (or rather staring for long minutes) at his huge cock rising up to full length in his sleep, but it did not go any further than that.
No jerking-off together, no massage, no rimming, no nipples sucking…
Only Joe’s nakedness and his explicit lessons on “how to be a real man”, were making our relationship slightly different from any other of the same nature.
On Friday, I could not help but thinking back about Bob’s comment as, indeed, at 3:30 PM, Joe casually told me he had to run an errand.
This was not unusual but the timing was quite telling. I also noted his cheeky smile as he hopped in his van.
Even more telling was the fact that he came back at 6 PM with barely nothing in his trunk.
I did not complain though, or ask any question, I had used this alone time to jerk off in peace.
It pains me to admit it, but I may have had been thinking about what was surely happening at the glory-hole while I was stroking my nine-inches dripping cock.
I forced myself to watch some good old straight porn, but even then, I ended up on a gangbang scene, twelve guys combining their efforts to wreck one poor girl.
As you can imagine, there were way more XXL dongs and musky manly asses on the film than pussies to cum to.
I did nut when the girl started rimming each of the guy one by one, while some of the other male performers were giving her facials.
The fact that she was eating asses while her face was covered in spunk was particularly nasty and this was the frame that got me to explode.
Anyway, the next shift in Joe and I’s relationship happened on the following Saturday.
It should have been a casual day and for once, the weather was a bit chiller.
It was still summer in Utah but nothing compared to the past couple of weeks. It even rained for a couple of hours around noon.
We worked on some minor handiwork inside the house.
That was when I had a silly accident.
Joe asked me to fix a lamp in the living room, I used a chair to be tall enough to reach the ceiling but realized too late that it could not hold my weight.
Like a moron, I broke the damn chair in half and I fell.
“Kiddo! Are you alright?” Joe hurried next to me.
Maybe because the temperature was not that high, for once, Joe was not fully naked. He was wearing a pair of skimpy, too small for him, grey boxer briefs. They were sliding in his ass-crack on the back.
I was in my shorts and tank top.
“I’m fine.” I lied, struggling to get back up.
He saw right through me.
“You don’t look fine, Blakey. Should I bring you to a doctor or something? Fuck!”
“No… I…” I tried to assess how I was feeling. “I may have hurt my back a little but I will be fine… Sorry for the chair.”
He grabbed one of the wooden legs and threw it away.
“Who cares about that damn chair? You could have broken your skull, idiot.”
It was the first time that I was feeling like Joe actually cared about me, well, about my physical well-being at least.
There was no joke, no teasing, no grunting… Sure, he called me idiot but his tone was affectionate.