Date: Mon, 15 Oct 2001 18:56:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: KD
Subject: The Farm Boy, part 2-- A Reprise  Surprise

Though I had intended "The Farm Boy," written in 1999, to stand alone as a
short story, the response to its posting in September, 2001 has inspired me
to reconsider.  A reader suggested a three-way interlude between the
narrator, Matt, and his friend Dave, and I am attached enough to these
characters to want to see them enjoy that experience.  Here, then, is the
conclusion to "The Farm Boy."

What follows is a work of gay erotic fiction, depicting (duh!) explicit
sexual acts between males.  If it is illegal where you are to possess or
view this material, if you are not of legal age in your jurisdiction, or if
you would be offended by such descriptions, do not read it.  I am delighted
to have contributed to my readers' erections and sperm production, but
don't forget-practice safe sex.

			   THE FARM BOY, PART II

			    A Reprise Surprise

	The month I had to wait after my dream afternoon with young Matt,
before I could hope to hook up with him again, was one of the longest I've
ever spent.  It was not an idle one, though.  Not only did I work almost
feverishly, partly to keep my brain from fixating on him entirely, but in
my idle moments I sacrificed an awful lot of poor little spermatozoa with
his image before my mind.  I am not and was not in love with Matt, that was
out of the question.  But I was besotted with him, besmitten, in rut over
him.  He is so much a physical ideal for me, meeting him was almost like an
encounter with my personal idol.  And he is a very nice, touchingly open
and sincere guy.

	Matt is no kid, but youthful, just having entered the realm of full
growth and development.  Having grown up in the country, he is fresh as a
pail of this morning's milk, his skin smooth and lustrous with health and
energy.  Beneath that skin, though, there is a layer of firm, well-worked
muscle, not at all bulky, but just taut and strong.  Add to that his 6' 2"
height, his lean, rippling abs, his wide shoulders, handsome face- well, I
could bust a nut over his legs alone, but the whole package of perfection
was almost too much for me to put out of my mind.

	Suffice it to say, then, that when the appointed day arrived, I was
pretty excited, and had to keep reminding myself not to rush out to his hay
field too early, because it would do no good to arrive before he was even
out there.  My plan was to let him get at least half finished with his
mowing before I showed up, so that he would be ready for a break, on the
lookout for me, and maybe even a bit sweaty.

	I was not to be in any way disappointed.  As I pulled off onto the
shoulder of the macadam county road, I could not see him, but I could see
the half-mown field, still high in the center as he had been circling from
the outer edges.  Within two minutes, his tractor topped the crest of the
hill.  He must have been looking straight at the roadside, because
immediately, I saw his arm go up in a happy wave, before I had even had a
chance to get a good look at him.  I had slid over to the passenger side of
the car and rolled down the window, so I waved back quickly, swung open the
door, and began to climb out...

	As I strode through the weeds at the roadside and approached the
low fence at the property line, I fastened my eyes upon the driver of that
tractor.  Matt had his black cap on again, and his dark glasses.  His rich
brown hair was gathered at the back of the neck as before, and he was
shirtless.  I think his tan was several shades darker than the month
before.  I diverted my gaze for just a moment while I planted a hand on the
nearest fence post and arm-vaulted over.  When I looked back up, Matt had
moved on down the hillside towards me several yards and had begun the swing
around the crown of the hill.  I could see his long bare thigh (his shorts
must be hiked up) and upper calf now extending out of the padded, curved
tractor seat toward the pedals on the floor.  He stopped at the point
closest to me and swiveled a little in the seat.  His handsome, bronzed
face broke into a wide grin, revealing his dazzling teeth as well as his
open, friendly nature.  Closer now, I could see his slender ankle and sexy
foot at the clutch of the tractor.  Matt was barefoot.  Two strides later,
I broke into a grin even bigger than his.  Now, I could see that he was
also stark naked!

	The tractor engine still droned rather loudly, but I could hear
Matt's baritone voice over it.  He scooted forward on the seat, revealing
even more of his tawny hip, now showing little or no tan line.  "Hop on
up!"  Still grinning, I mounted the tractor like a palfrey, swinging up
behind him on the wide tractor seat and settling my hands on his bare
hipbones for support.  A wave of heat and a sunny, grassy, manly scent
arose from Matt's tawny back, which glistened with sweat.  My mouth
involuntarily nuzzled at his neck and shoulder in affectionate greeting.
He turned his head, and I gave him a deep and appreciative kiss.  This was
great, being swept up by a gorgeous pure and innocent young knight-shining,
but without need of armor-on his silver, metallic charger.  Matt popped the
clutch, and off we rode, encircling the field in a giant arc of neatly
scythed hay.  I couldn't resist fingering his pubes a little and even
taking a few strokes on his thick meaty cock as we rolled along.  It rose
out of his crotch like an extra gearshift.  When we came to a stop on the
other side of the hill's crest near the little trail that led down to our
trysting place, my knight, now sporting a pretty impressive lance, put his
steed into park and killed the engine.

	I was a little reluctant to dismount, but I wanted to get to a more
private place.  I gave Matt one more kiss, then stepped down.  He swung his
strong, bare legs out and stood, that mouth-watering stiffie waving in my
direction, jumping carefully and gracefully onto a little spot of soft and
barren dirt beside me.  His brawny arms engulfed me, and he planted a big,
passionate kiss on me, his tongue dueling wetly with mine, and his big dick
grinding pleasantly into my groin.  My own member is not one to be timid,
and it had sprouted hardwood of its own a while back.  Now, restrained by
my thin slacks alone (I wore no underwear), it tented boldly and dug into
Matt's pelvis as his did into mine.

	Our walk down the hillside to our love nest, a tiny island in the
middle of the creek that flows at the bottom of the ravine, was slowed by
the fact that Matt was barefoot and naked.  He led the way, and I ogled his
sleek and shapely backside as we descended.  We exchanged a little news on
the way.  Not long before our previous session, his older brother had
married and moved to town, leaving Matt and his mom running the farm on
their own.  His father had died several years ago: it struck me that I had
known next to nothing about his life and circumstances.  Now Matt did all
the farm work while his mom ran the house, the little poultry operation,
and the garden.  In late summer, he would be off to the ag college not too
far away, returning on weekends to keep the fields and the reduced herds of
livestock going as best he could until he could take over for himself.
Since his mother never came around the barn or out to the fields, and since
the property was separated by woodland from all its neighbors, he had taken
to working in the altogether-- hence, the new all-over tan.

	When we got to the small open space just before the row of thicker
brush at the creekside, I stopped to shed my clothing.  Matt watched me
start to unbutton my shirt, but then moved in close.

"Wait," he said.  "I've been wanting to do that."

Very deliberately, almost reverently, he began to loosen the buttons,
pulling the shirt tail out of my trousers.  He slipped it off of my
shoulders and pulled the cuffs over my hands.  Then he grasped my belt,
unfastened it, gently unclasped and unbuttoned my pants, slid down the
zipper provocatively.  My trimmed golden brown pubes were revealed.  Matt
let go of the waistband, and the weight of my wallet and belt dragged the
slacks down to my ankles.  My erect phallus sprang free, wavering stiffly
between me and Matt.  He leaned in toward me and grasped my cock and his in
one big handful, rubbing and stroking their undersides together, smiling
down upon the two of them with a lascivious expression.  I chuckled at his
eager lust.  Stepping out of the trousers, I slipped off my shoes and
socks.  Matt backed up and pressed aside the branches with his body so that
I could pass unscratched, but he couldn't resist grabbing my ass a little,
playfully, as I passed.

	"Hold on," I protested, grinning again.  "We'll get to that."

	"I've been waiting for a month.  Can't hold much longer."

	I sighed.  "Don't I know it."

	On the other side of the brush, our little creek's water level had
dropped considerably.  Now it was no more than a couple of feet deep even
in the center, just ankle deep for several feet on each side.  The island
was twice its former size.  In addition to the flat rocky area in the
center, there was also a broad sandy edge on each side.  But what caught my
eye immediately was the large, quilt-covered inflated mattress, complete
with pillow, set up on the middle of the rock.  Beside it lay a backpack,
and next to that there was a small ice chest.  Dear Matt had planned ahead
this time, it seemed.

	"Only one pillow?"  I teased.

	"Well, I figured only one of us would actually be laying down at a
time."  Matt could be so amusingly, endearingly earnest.

	"You first."  I wanted my tongue on his wet, salty body before he
had a chance to wipe or wash that sweat off again.

	We strode together into the creek, the cool water splashing up
around our calves.  Matt was just about to dip down into the water when I
grabbed his arm firmly.

	"Whoa, dude!"

	"Just rinsing off the grass and sweat, that's all.  It gets pretty
hot on that tractor."

	"No way, man!  I've been looking forward to tasting that sweat.
Leave it to me."

	"Really?  You don't mind it?  I may kind of smell, you know."

	"Oh, I hope so.  I'm here to see a man, and it's just fine with me
if you smell like one."

	Matt looked just slightly dubious, but shrugged.  He was not an
easy one to shock.

	"Well, if you say so.  You wanna beer?"

	"Later.  You've been working.  You have one while I tidy you up."

	We had stepped across the little beach onto our rock by now.
Smiling now shyly, Matt opened the cooler and took out a Michelob,
innocently showing me his sweet little ass crack with its narrow swath of
wet, brown hairs and its puckering rosebud as he bent.  Then he swiveled
and sank down as he twisted the bottle cap, reclining on his back onto the
puffy mattress, leaning back onto the thick pillow and spreading his long
legs casually.  He laid aside his sunglasses and gazed upon me contentedly
with his warm, brown eyes as he took a big sip of the brew.  I knelt
between his legs and almost became distracted by that luscious piece of
mushroom-capped beef filet that lay across his strong thigh.  But I had
other business to attend to first.

	Reclining across his body onto my elbows, I rested my crotch on
Matt's and leaned down to get another deep, beery kiss.  Then I went to
work on a prolonged tongue massage, starting with his jaw and neck, then
shoulders, pecs, and tits.  Those last rose into sharp little points at my
touch. Next, I moved to the sides and took on his wet, hairy pits, one at a
time.  They had a light, salty flavor and a musky, honest scent-- clean,
but unapologetically male.  Matt moaned softly.

	"Oh, man.. I can't believe how great that feels.  The things you
think of.."

	I spent a good fifteen minutes just on pits.  After that came the
treasure trail, the washboard, and finally the pubes, which wanted just as
much attention as the pits.  It took some concentration to stay with it,
too, because that tantalizing cock had swung up across that region, and I
had to keep nosing it out of the way while resisting the temptation to give
it more than a passing lick down the shaft.  At last, after half an hour of
earnest tonguing, I was ready to focus my oral talents on the main
attraction.  I nibbled up and down the sides a few times while Matt
whimpered in anticipation.  Then I took the head of the cock, quite a
satisfying mouthful in itself, and swirled it wetly with my tongue.  Matt's
back arched beneath me, and he gave an almost tormented-sounding groan.  I
wanted more, though.  Slowly, like a python consuming a creature not much
smaller than itself, I rolled my sucking mouth around and around on the
stiff cock, with each rotation taking more and more of it into my mouth and
throat.  In short order, the elephant had been consumed, as one must
consume an elephant, one mouthful at a time.  I pulled off, took a deep
breath, and descended again to the depths, until my lips encircled the base
of Matt's tool within his pubes.  He looked down at his middle in
amazement.  His ten-inch dick, his pride, his identity, was gone, having
totally disappeared into my face.  My throat muscles clenched and massaged
its head gently as my lips rubbed the base, and my tongue stroked the
underside of the shaft.  This alone, if I had enough breath to hold it a
few seconds longer, would have brought Matt to nerve-shattering orgasm.  He
lay prone as if paralyzed, his head lolling back, and his mouth gaping in a
prolonged, "Ahhhhh."

	But slowly, I slipped off the wet monster, sliding up to the head,
swirling some more, sucking gently on the top half alone for a while, to
catch my breath.  Matt sighed with deep contentment.  This was what he had
dreamed of for the past month.  I was resolved to disappoint him, though,
because I was not going to let him cum in my mouth, not this time-not yet,
anyway.  I wanted his spunk at the other end.  To torment him even further,
I decided to satisfy his other end first, too.  I slid my mouth down to his
large, low-hanging, sperm makers and slobbered them up thoroughly.  Then,
nudging them aside with my nose, I smooched on the nerve-rich, wrinkly
crease between scrotum and asshole. I felt his testicles trembling against
my nose and face with the ecstasy of the stimulation.  His sweat here was
particularly strongly masculine and savory.  By now, his ass ring tingled
with anticipation.

	My tongue circled the rectum delicately, and the trembling eased as
the muscle relaxed and began to loosen its pucker.  The point of my tongue
zeroed in on the center of the ring.  It relaxed further, and the ring
expanded a bit more.  I pressed with my tongue, and the wet muscle slowly
slid past the sphincter and into the anus itself.  My face pressing hard
now against Matt's manly ass, I tongue-fucked him deeply.

	"Oh-h-h, man-I can't believe the way you do that!"  moaned my
enraptured friend.  In a few minutes, though, he handed down the lubricant
gel.  "But I want something bigger.  And harder.  Please!  Fuck me, man,
now!"

	Well, my partner must be ready, I thought.  I lubed up a couple of
fingers and went to work enlarging the opening a bit.  Matt made it clear
that he liked that, a lot.  I added a finger from the other hand, too, and
then a second.  Now four fingers, gently, slowly pulling open the anal
muscle.  It looked like I could park my car in there by now.  I leaned in
and French kissed the gaping hole as my fingers held it open.  Then I
removed a hand to work in a large glob of the gel, massaging it in
thoroughly so that the passage assumed a perfectly slippery, viscous
surface.  I didn't bother to slick up my dick-there was plenty in the ass
now to provide a gentle and painless entry.

	Was I hard?  Don't be ridiculous!  My throbber had been like a
marble Priapus for almost an hour by now.  I raised up and pointed the
shapely head of my eight-and-a-half incher at Matt's slimy hole.  It slid
in with ease.  Had Matt not been panting, he would have looked comatose,
mouth gaping. Pulling back out to spread the lubes a bit, I slowly pushed
inward again.  Then out.  Then in deeper, rest a few seconds. Then out.
Then, slowly, all the way in up to the hilt.  I paused and waited, lying
prone across Matt's still sweating body, as he acclimated to having such a
large alien presence deep within his gut.

	"Do it!"  he urged, now almost desperate.

	So I did.  I fucked him missionary style, his legs spread wide and
his cock and balls pressed by my own pubic area.  Then he wrapped his long,
brown-haired legs around my waist, and I hunched him that way for a while,
taking some of the weight off of his crotch.  Then I flipped his right leg
across over my head and rolled him, bending the right leg at the knee and
fucking diagonally. Then I lay behind his back and slid my rod in and out
of his backside sideways for several minutes.  All of this time, I felt the
most exquisite sensation of pleasure as his ass gripped my phallus and
milked at it.  Matt panted and groaned in a similar kind of exquisite
pleasure.  Finally, he struggled to his knees, prompting me to rise also,
draping myself across his hips and hunching him doggie style.  At this
point, we had struggled around a hundred and eighty degrees, so that we
were facing the wider part of the stream and the trail we had come from,
our asses the other way, our heads down and absorbed by our passion.  I was
not far from cumming by this time, and my thrusts were rising to a
crescendo. We were totally concentrated on our pleasures with, I'm sure,
matching grimaces of bliss on our faces.

	Suddenly, I felt Matt go rigid beneath me.  His ass lost its
pliability in a heartbeat.  "Oh, shit," he stated dismally.  I looked up in
bewilderment, struggling to get my vision back into focus.

	At the edge of the far side of the creek, just on our side of the
screen of shrubs at creekside, stood another young man, Matt's age, frozen
in shock and confusion.  In that split second of time, I took in the scene
in its entirety, as if it were a moment of eternal comprehension.  The guy
was six feet tall, shirtless, wearing low-slung shorts with boxer waistband
showing, white socks, and tan boots.  His hair was bright, Highlander red,
cropped short, his eyebrows burnished gold.  His body was huskier than
Matt's elegant form-this one had a broad, deep, smooth chest, with muscular
pecs like a pillow-tufted mattress, though, I realized, the extra-firm
model.  He had been in the sun, too, but it had reddened and freckled him
more than tanning.  His abdomen was thicker than Matt's or mine, very
strong, but equally free of fat.  Abs like beer cans lined up. Likewise,
the hips-thicker and meatier, but all muscle. A thin treasure trail
slithered from his navel into the band of his boxers.  Those biceps!  Just
standing there, they formed mounds of muscle.  His hands were big and
strong, and from one of them dangled a half-gallon insulated jug.  His legs
were trunks, not chunky, just very powerful.  He was magnificent.  The
Viking god Balder appeared before my lust-glazed eyes in full vigor of
life.

	But his divine visage was clouded, a study of complex emotions.
Anger was certainly there in large measure, crowding out the initial
astonishment and hurt.  There was some horror, and some disgust.  A little
twitch of fear, an alien presence in this heavenly being.  But I also saw a
flash of humor, a little thrill of excitement, and a deep well of sexual
passion.  I cannot imagine any man being so exclusively straight that he
would not immediately sprout hardwood at the sight of two straining,
lustful stud animals rutting as we were.  Sure enough, a thick bulge ran
down the left inseam of the fellow's shorts. In my moment of eternal
awareness, I even saw the ridge of the corona of a very substantial piece
of malemeat.  The dude had been there for some seconds before Matt detected
his presence.  Already, his cycle of emotions was beginning to subside.  He
was beginning to settle down into humor and superiority, with a pretty good
dose of curiosity and longing as well.  But there was something else, too,
jealousy, maybe.

	"Shit, Matt.  Get a room, man."

	He turned and began to walk back up the little trail from which he
had obviously come.  Then he swung back around and dropped the thermos.
"Your mom thought you might be getting thirsty.  But then, I guess she
thought you were in the field workin'."

	Poor Matt had a gamut of emotions to run through himself.  I felt
them all, as if transmitted through my slimy dick which still connected us
like box cars.  Surprise, fear, shame, anger, defiance, all ran through
him.  But there was more.  I felt a kind of relief rush through him,
compassion, concern. and love.  I'll be damned, I thought.  Even as I knelt
there with eight inches of erect cock shoved up young, beautiful Matt's
fine ass, I knew.  This must be Dave, and Matt was in love with him.

	As Dave turned away a second time, Matt slid quickly off of my pole
and stood.  He looked at me questioningly, clearly torn.  His love beckoned
him away, but he was so damned polite even under such duress.  He was
concerned for me!  "Can I. can you hold on a minute?"

	"Go on.  Get it straight now.  I'll wait.  If you can't come back,
I understand."

	Matt gave me a grateful half-smile.  In two splashy leaps, he
crossed the other side of the stream, brushing through the branches, and
his long legs made short work of the slope on the other side.  I couldn't
help but admire his strong, lean, graceful form even as he ran from me.  I
sat back on my heels, still kneeling with dick straight out as I had been
through all this scene.  Through gaps among the leaves, I caught glimpses
of Matt catching up to the striding Dave, saw him grasp the other man
behind the elbow, spin him around.  I saw Dave's fist waving jerkily, his
bicep bulging.  I saw Dave's strong jaw, clenching.

	Voices were jousting back and forth, but I couldn't discern the
words.  Anger from Dave, complaint, accusation.  From Matt, consolation,
explanation, soothing, invitation, encouragement.  Some hurt from Dave.
There was some grabbing and pushing back and forth.  Then silence.  Dave
seemed to have left.

	In a moment, Matt came back, dragging like a whipped pup.  His dick
was actually soft for one of the few times I ever saw it that way.  He
waded across to me, long in the face, dejected posture all over.  He sighed
and sank onto the mattress; I swiveled and settled down next to him.  His
forearms on his knees, his brown head drooped.  Another sigh.

	"It's just as well.  Now is as good a time as any for him to know
about me.  He'll probably blab it all over the county, but I don't have to
go back to school here anymore, and I can get along without these hicks.  I
was just wishing. I had hoped, you know.."

	"Yeah, I do know.  I'm really sorry."  I laid my arm across Matt's
shoulder, so strong and manly, yet now so vulnerable and so young.  It was
not a sexual gesture, but solidarity.  I hoped he wouldn't cry, but if he
did, I was prepared to comfort him.  We sat in silence for several minutes
while Matt sorted through the scene that had played out.

	"I'm not giving up all hope yet," he continued after thinking it
over.  "He's mad and shocked, all right.  Maybe even grossed out.  But
we've talked about this before, and he already knew I wanted to do it.
Maybe when he thinks it over, he'll get some sense."

	"Could he be partly jealous, that it was me in you and not him?"

	Matt mulled that over.  Finally, he confessed, "I wish.  But I
don't know.  We've been best friends a long, long time, all our lives
almost.  It's been more than that with me for a couple of years now, but he
acted like he couldn't tell.  If it is more with him, too, well, I can't
tell, either."

	We sat quietly a few more minutes, facing the field side of the
stream.  Then we heard a slight rustling behind us.  We both turned at the
same time.  It was Dave again, back at the other sandy edge of the creek.
He was naked.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK, that's enough for now, guys.  Look for Part III, "Matt and Dave," to be
posted next week, I hope.