Finn stood under the shower fall without embarrassment. He too was nude. He was fair-skinned, arms and face rosy from the sun, freckled and with a riot of curly red hair. His body color (redder arms and neck) and tone suggested that he too was a farm worker. He was nicely endowed, long and thin, over egg-shaped balls, set in curly rose pubes, but cut–so probably Catholic and from the city. He seemed to be older, or at least more experienced than Andre. Certainly his body language suggested he was quite comfortable with nudity in the presence of another guy. He was showing off as he stroked and fluffed.
Finn immediately realized that Andre was scoping him, perhaps a little more intently focused on his crotch and concluded that Andre might be up for something more. Finn himself was not very experienced. He had never taken a woman to bed, but he and a few buds had stroked, blown, and once even rimmed a bit. Several older guys had offered him money to stroke and blow them. He had accepted–the strokes, not the blows, with strangers. That was just too much even for a poor lad. But, he knew he enjoyed it. Finn leaned back, insured his dick was free of his thighs and hanging forward and moved to his side to face Andre as though he too owned the ledge. He introduced himself and made small talk, while frequently moving his free hand to his cock or balls to reposition them. He was like a cobra, hypnotizing his prey, but holding back and not attacking.
Finn was indeed from Boston. He and his brother were in Noubois for the summer working to send a bit back home. He was a third generation Irishman, but the O’Neill family hadn’t made much progress up the social and economic ladder in those fifty or so years. He had graduated high school–on the vocational side–thanks to the largess of the Boston Democrat political machine. He was a stone mason, with several years of experience, but no one was building now. Finn held up his hands as evidence–they were huge and callused, with a few scars, but with very strong long fingers. Immediately after the demonstration of his large hands, Finn unselfconsciously reached down again and cupped his balls, causing his semi to point outward at Andre.
The seduction seemed to be having the desired effect. Andre licked his lips. His eyes were hooded, but glued. And despite his recent ejaculation, he was chubbing again. The shaft began to rise from the supporting balls, highlighted by Andre’s un-tanned midsection. Finn guessed that he might have some fun with this guy after all. He had a few more weeks before the harvest was over, and he had to return home to an uncertain future.
Andre responded with a very brief bio, claiming his Noubois pedigree, but leaving out much and denigrating the size of their farm.
Suddenly, reading the desire in Andre’s eyes, Finn reached over and gripped Andre’s cock, feeling the moisture from the residual cum from of recent ejaculation, rolling the hood back to disclose the angry purple head. Andre jolted, colored immediately, but didn’t back off. He loved the sensation as he felt the rough fist on his cock and the blood pumping into the shaft. Andre was a beauty. That cock was one of the best, almost sacred in its size and shape, Finn thought. And Andre was so fucking sensuous! And so fucking ready! He was thrusting his hips forward with each stroke, asking for more. He was a ripe peach ready to be picked and sucked. Finn reached under and cradled the balls, fondling them in his fingers. The shaft hardened even more and a droplet of precum emerged. Finn knew he had him, but decided it was time to let Andre make the next move.
But, Andre needed time to process all these events. Finn had moved too quickly, assumed too much. No boy had ever touched him before. Andre stood and dove into the cold pond. Finn watched carefully. Fuck, that ass was a bloody work of art. And that dick was a trophy! If he could tag this guy, it was the equivalent of shooting an eight or ten point stag. (He had never hunted in his life, but he liked the image. He might spend his days gathering on the Coogan farm, but his time was for hunting.)
Despite his horniness and apparent forwardness, Finn was not terribly experienced in “matters of the flesh.” As a Catholic, everything was sinful. Maybe even in the marriage bed. He had gone to high school and lived at home. At the time there were no sports for vo-tech students–so he’d seen very few locker room nude boys his age. He had no boarding school adventures and no “special friends.” But so many bros and sisters that he never found any time to be alone. He hadn’t dated–although he had “felt up” a few indentured servant lassies in the park at dusk. But, he had imagined a lot after the older guys had approached him, and paid him to do them–and he had a vivid imagination.
In fact, the risks he had taken in the last few minutes, probably revealing himself to Andre, were the first time he had made the first move. And the first time that he was actually attracted to a guy. He made up his mind on the spot that he’d be returning to the pond frequently, maybe every evening. He was a bright boy, and as he pulled his soiled work clothes back on, he realized that he hadn’t really been the seducer. Andre had seduced him! He might look the alpha, but Andre owned the title–if he wanted to claim it. Finn was going to get this guy–and Andre was going to think it was his idea! Yes, trips back to the pond were a must.
report Meanwhile Andre’s walk home had been filled with possibility and turmoil. He was definitely attracted to Finn–in a way that no man or woman had captured his imagination before. He pictured himself stroking that pole–as Finn’ enormous strong hands massaged his. He shivered a bit in fear, but guessed that a daily bath in the pond was in his future. As he approached the “allee”, he realized he was hard again. So he stepped behind one of the larger trees and jerked himself to decency before he continued on to change for dinner.
*****
Dubois family dinner was a formal affair–even in the heat of summer. Yvonne had relented and permitted her men to remove their jackets and ties, but long-sleeved linen shirts, long britches, shoes and socks were required. She and her two daughters wore smart smocks–but had been permitted to leave off the petticoats and stockings–scandalous as that would be outside the house.
Dinner was served in the old large dining room–with candles! Damn, Andre thought, why candles in this heat? They had electricity. Farm life didn’t produce much eventful news for discussion, so Raymond took over and described the condition of the crops, the market and his expectations. Yvonne was obviously perturbed and bored. Business discussion at dinner!
She finally got her chance. She reminded everyone that FC was sponsoring a “social” on Friday on the town green. She was on the committee and expected that all the members of her family would be “volunteers.” This was her major social event of the year, and she wanted to impress.