Date: Tue, 06 Dec 2005 09:55:58 +0000
From: Other Thing <otherness1981@hotmail.com>
Subject: Simon's Farm - Chapter 1

Simon's Farm
(Part One)

I first saw Simon leaning against the gatepost as the bus pulled up in the
lane outside the farm. It was a hot day and he was wearing just a t-shirt
which clung tightly to his muscular chest. He was good looking, and my
heart leapt as I saw him. I don't know what I imagined he'd be like, but
not this. This was too good to be true.  I dragged my heavy rucksack off
the bus and the automatic doors hissed shut behind me, without even saying
hello Simon lifted the bag up effortlessly onto his shoulders and flashed
me a bright grin.
	'You're Chris, right?'
	'Yeah.' I said offering a hand for him to shake, which he seemed
not to notice.
	'Cool, thought I'd better check. Didn't want to take the wrong guy
home with me.'
	I laughed, and followed after him down a narrow dirt track that
lead away from the road. I'd answered the advert without giving it much
thought. They'd needed casual workers to help out on the farm, and I'd
needed something to fill my summer away from uni. I had no idea what was
required of me, but the advert said that no experience was necessary, and
as I had none, it just seemed ideal.
	Simon, however, was going to be an added bonus. As we progressed
along the dirt track, I hung back letting him go ahead, but also taking an
opportunity to check out his muscular legs, and tight round buttocks inside
the clinging fabric of his shorts. I wondered whether he was gay and how I
was to go about finding out this vital piece of information, but in the
summer heat I began to wildly fantasize about the possibility of wrestling
him to the ground right there and then and ripping the shorts off him in
the middle of the track.
	I began to get hard inside my jeans, so decided to catch up with
him and stop lusting after his body. He was so much bigger than me, that
the idea of wrestling him to the ground was pretty comical anyway. I
started to walk alongside him and we began to chat about the farm, and
about me, and what I was doing at university.
	'So who lives at the farm?' I finally asked.
	'Well there's me, and there's Karen, and Martin, and my brother
Dan.  Sometimes my dad's there. It used to be his place, but he gave it up
to me and my brother.'
	'Right,' I said, my heart already sinking at the mention of the
woman's name, 'who's Karen?'
	'Karen? She's my wife.'
	'Right. Cool and Martin?'
	'He's like you, just another casual. I hope you don't mind, but
you're going to have to share a room with him.'
	'No that's fine.'  My heart was already sinking as we reached the
end of the track. It was typical; the hottest guy I've seen in years and
he's not only straight, he's married. It was going to be hell living with
him, seeing his gorgeous body every day and knowing I'd never get chance to
touch it. I began to curse his wife beneath my breath.
	The path opened up onto the farmyard, and suddenly I took in quite
how isolated the place was. The road the bus had come along was itself
pretty lonely, but the farm itself could not be seen for the trees all
around it.
	'I bet no one knows this place is even here.' I said as we walked
into the house.
	'No one needs to. No neighbours for miles.'  We entered a big and
untidy kitchen. A large dog came running up to Simon, and jumped up, its
paws against his firm stomach. He put my rucksack down by the table and
called out to his wife,
	'Karen! He's here!'  After a few seconds a pretty, dark-haired
woman appeared in the doorway to the room.  She smiled and walked over to
shake my hand.
	'You must be Chris, we're very grateful for you answering the
advert.'
	'That's okay,' I said, 'I mean, you're paying me after all.'  I
could see what Simon saw in her, and the previous disappointment at
discovering her existence, faded from my mind. She was a nice person,
friendly, sweet.  Together, they made a nice couple; they were homely above
anything else. It just so happened that Simon was also incredibly hot.
	'I'll show you your room.' She said and I followed her out of the
kitchen and into a dark hallway and up a narrow flight of stairs. The whole
house seemed dark and very old. We crossed a small landing and she opened a
door to a room with two beds in it.
	'Martin's working right now, but I think you'll get along. He's a
quiet guy, keeps himself to himself, so he won't cause you any problems.
You might want to unpack your things, have a rest before dinner.'
	I turned to smile at her, and she smiled back.
	'Yeah I'm pretty worn out from the journey.' I said.
	'Well you'll get to meet everyone at dinner time.' She said and
left the room closing the door behind her. I began to take in my new
surroundings. The room was quite small and had only one small window at the
far end of it. It was clear that someone was already living there; half the
room, one of the beds and the space around it was surrounded by Martin's
possessions. Discarded clothes littered the floor, a guitar leant against
the wall on the other side of the bed. On the wall above the bed was a
poster of a football player I'd never heard of. I'm not really into sport,
and was kind of dreading having to explain that to someone who was a big
enough fan to put a poster up in a room where he was only staying for a few
months over the summer.
	I sat down on my bed and pushed my rucksack underneath it. I'd
unpack later on, for the moment I wasn't sure what exactly I was supposed
to unpack my things into.  Martin clearly had never found anywhere and
seemed to prefer to dump his things on the floor around his bed. By my feet
lay a pair of his discarded boxers. This kind of untidiness might start to
piss me off in a few days. Things weren't looking good. I reached down to
pick the boxers up and to throw them over onto his side of the room, but as
I touched them I realised that they were wet. I let go, alarmed but in the
same moment turned on. Checking that the door was shut, I cautiously got
down off the bed and onto the floor to inspect them more closely without
picking them up again.
	I gingerly turned them over on the floor. They were drenched in
cum. Not just a bit, not like the way when you're looking at porn on the
internet and your cock gets hard and you leak a bit of precum into the
crotch of your shorts, these were absolutely soaked in it. It was hard to
believe one person could have produced so much. It hung in a big puddle
inside them, still fluid, silvery-white and gooey. I was rock hard.  Before
I knew it I was tasting it. I had my lips in the crotch and I was sucking
it out into my mouth. It seems crazy looking back, I'd not even seen the
guy who'd produced it, but it was so unbelievably horny finding it there
that I just had to. There was so much in there that I got a reasonable
mouthful of the stuff, it was salty and delicious and I rubbed the boxers
over my face, smearing it over me. I got my cock out of my jeans and began
to play with it. I'm a good, solid, seven and a half inches, nice and thick
with a firm round, purple head. I started giving it firm strokes, pumping
away as I smelt the last traces of cum in the boxers.
	Then it hit me, if this guy was capable of doing that, then surely
he had other horny secrets about the place too. I slid my hand beneath his
mattress, expecting to find porn magazines, there were none but I did get a
good smell of his body on his sheets as I did it. I felt underneath the bed
and found another pair of boxers, these weren't wet, but there were traces
of them having received a heavy load at some point. I gave them a good
sniff and continued to wank.
	And I was in that position when the door opened, my back against
Martin's bed, my jeans pulled down, beating my meat furiously with a pair
of boxers pressed to my face. I just froze. It was Karen. She began to
speak, and then realised what was happening,
	'Chris, I just wanted to tell you... Oh... Oh God!'  Her face
brightened to scarlet and she turned her head away to look out into the
hall. I immediately sprang to my feet, which wasn't altogether a good idea
as it put my erect cock fully on view, she turned back saw it, and grew
even more embarrassed.
	'Karen, Karen... I'm sorry... I... err...' I stammered pulling my
jeans up over my cock. She started to talk again, but continued staring out
into the hallway.
	'I... I just wanted to tell you that dinner would be ready in five
minutes... If you'd like to... erm, join us once you're finished.'
	'I'm so sorry!' I said, my cock rapidly softening inside my pants.
	'No, it's my fault, I should have knocked.' She closed the door
behind her and I heard her make her way down the stairs. In five minutes
time I'd have to face her again, and sit politely at the table knowing I'd
just shown her my erect cock; and not just her, there was also her gorgeous
husband, and the guy I hadn't yet met but whose cum I had already eaten.

****
This is the first instalment guys. It gets much darker (and hornier) after
this. Love to hear your comments otherness1981@hotmail.com
****