Date: Tue, 22 Mar 2011 22:48:50 -0400
From: bigmoh@post.com
Subject: The New Farm Hand

Casey Conrad sat at the counter in a small diner in a
small town in Missouri sipping his coffee and worrying
about his future.  At nine in the morning he was the
only customer.  He rarely joined the normal breakfast
crowd and only stopped in for coffee after driving
twenty miles from his boyhood home on a farm.  The
regular crowd of patrons, having finished their
customary breakfast of eggs, ham, hash browns, toast,
and plenty of hot, strong coffee had departed to resume
their regular daily routines.  Casey's daily routine,
however, had recently been disrupted.  The only
certainty in his life was that he would buy a week's
worth of groceries and return to a very empty house.

Madge, the matronly owner/cook/waitress of the diner
extended sympathy to her solitary customer at the
time.  "Yur daddy was a real fine man," she said.  "Too
bad he had to go afore his time.  Sorry I couldn't make
it to the funeral last week.  Always liked to see him.
Good tipper, too.  Whatcha gonna do with the farm?
If'n thar's ennythin' I can do fer ya, just say the
word.  More coffee?  Gonna be a scorcher today; ain't
it?

Madge was like that.  When she wasn't rushing around to
cook for and serve customers, she did a lot of
talking.  She spoke in disjointed thoughts that made it
hard to know which of her comments to respond to.

Casey didn't feel like talking about his dad so he
said, "Yeah.  One more cup and I'll be on my way."  His
emotions were still in turmoil over his father's
accident -- his tractor slid down an embankment,
overturned, and crushed him.  Compounding Casey's
depression was worrying about the farm.  He and his
father had worked the farm alone for years because his
mother died from complications when he was born and his
much older sister had married and moved with her
husband to England.  Now he was alone.  It was no
surprise that he inherited the farm.  At age twenty-
four, he became the youngest farm owner in the county.
But he knew he couldn't work the farm alone.  There was
more than enough work for two; one person just couldn't
do it all.

Madge rattled on about the latest small town gossip.
Casey was only half-listening.  He was spared hearing
further trivial news when a young man came in and took
a stool not far from Casey who eyed the stranger with
particular interest -- an interest that he couldn't
reveal to anyone in Bible-belt Missouri.  The stranger
was well muscled and handled his stuffed backpack as
though it didn't weigh more than a few pounds.  Aside
from a three- or four-day growth of beard and an
exhausted expression, he was stunningly handsome.

"What'll ya have?" Madge inquired as she wiped her
hands on a grease-stained apron.

The young man (Casey guessed he was about eighteen),
having scanned the menu on a chalkboard above the grill
opposite the counter, asked, "What can I get for two
dollars?"

"Full breakfast starts at four ninety five.  Coffee's
fifty cents extra," she answered.

"Don't have that much," the young man said with obvious
embarrassment.

"Well," mused Madge, " I s'pose I could fix ya up with
toast, couple of eggs, and coffee.  But no refills on
the coffee!"

"Thank you, ma'am.  That'll hafta do, I guess."

Madge was in business and no doubt made scant profit
from her eatery but she was also a mother who took pity
on the young man.  He reminded her of her son who
didn't come home from Viet Nam.  She brought back a
full breakfast with hash browns, sausage, a pancake,
orange juice, and coffee.

The surprised lad said, "That's more than I can afford,
ma'am."

"Gracious me!" she said with what Casey recognized as
feigned embarrassment.  "Guess I got confused.  So -- my
mistake, yur good luck.  Eat up, sonny."

He did ... with obvious gusto that suggested he hadn't
eaten a full meal for quite some time.  When he had
finished, he asked Madge, "Got any chores I can do to
pay for my meal?  That was mighty kind of you but
fair's fair."

Madge dismissed the lad's question with, "Maybe later.
Next time ya stop in.  Y'all come back again, now ... ya
heah?  Get tired of seein' the same old faces in here.
And I do mean old.  Not like Casey over there.  Most of
my customers are ancient like me.

The young man glanced at Casey and smiled.  It might
have been amusement over Madge's weak joke, but Casey --
because of his admiration of the visitor -- interpreted
the smile to be an expression of spontaneous friendship
or at least a preliminary signal of a possible
friendship.  `Wishful thinking!' Casey reminded
himself.  `What's the chance of this handsome stranger
harboring the same urges I have?'

"Don't know if I'll be back, ma'am," he said.  "I'm
trying to get to Reno.  But it seems everybody's
suspicious of hitchhikers nowadays.  They just cruise
on by."

"That's a long way, sonny," Madge said.  "How're you
gonna make it with just two dollars in yur pocket?"

"Well ... that's a problem," he admitted.  "You
wouldn't know somebody who would give me a job for a
short time, would you?"

Casey's interest in the stranger abruptly shifted from
a desirable sex partner to a solution for his much more
practical problem.  Could this young man be the help he
would need on the farm?  He had said `for a short time'
and might eventually leave for Reno but it would be
nice to have help until he could make more permanent
plans.

Moving down to the stool next to the hitchhiker, Casey
said, "Pardon me, but I couldn't help overhearing that
you were looking for work.  So happens that I'm looking
for somebody.  Ever worked on a farm?"

"A little," the young man said.  "Summers.  On my
granpa's farm."

"Then you know what it's like.  By the way, I'm Casey
Conrad.  I've got a farm about twenty miles north of
here.  What do I call my new farm hand?"

"Kevin Miller.  Don't you want to know more about me
before you give me a job?"

"I know enough already.  I can see you're strong.  I
know you're responsible `cause you wanted to pay the
full price of your breakfast.  You're polite; you
always called Madge ma'am.  And you need a job.  What's
more to know?  Grab your backpack, Kevin.  My truck's
outside.  We can get to know each other better on the
drive home."

Both men were pleased with their good luck.  Casey
needed help on the farm.  Kevin needed a job.  Although
neither would dare to admit it each was especially
pleased to have met a handsome and very appealing man.
But, (heaven forbid!) neither could admit the basis of
his attraction.  They said goodbye to Madge and left.
After filling two carts in the grocery store, checking
out, and loading the sacks in the back of the pickup
truck, they headed north out of town.

On the drive, Casey summarized the work that had to be
done, explaining on the way that since his father's
death he worried that since he couldn't do it all by
himself he might lose the family farm.  Kevin revealed
that he had dropped out of high school during his
senior year because he and his father had what he
called a terrible argument.  As a result, he left home
and was making his way to Reno where he hoped to stay
with his uncle until he could find a job.  "No," he
said when asked.  "I can't go back home.  Let's just
say I'm not welcome there anymore and leave it at
that.  Okay?"

"So you expected to make it all the way to Nevada with
two dollars in your pocket?" Casey asked.

"I'm not that stupid!" Kevin said.  Before Casey could
apologize for the implication of his question, the
runaway explained, "I emptied my savings account before
I left.  I had almost two hundred dollars.  I slept in
a highway rest stop last night.  This morning, the
money was gone.  Some bastard robbed me!  At least he
didn't take the whole wallet `cause it has my driver's
license and my uncle's phone number and address."

"I'm sorry," Casey said.  "You've had a spell of really
bad luck."

"Yeah, we both have," he replied pensively.  After a
pause, he added, "But maybe my luck has turned around.
 I met this guy in a diner who was willing to give me a
job."

They both laughed.  Neither knew how much the other
wished that the good luck could become even luckier but
recognized that the probability was vanishingly small.

<><><><><>

Casey turned off the narrow county road onto a dirt
lane running between fields of corn that seemed to
stretch almost to the horizon.  A quarter mile away was
a clump of huge oak trees that obscured a farmhouse, a
massive barn, and two smaller outbuildings.  Casey's
great-grandfather had planted the trees as a young man
because he wanted the privacy they would afford.  Three
generations of Conrads appreciated the seclusion in
their miniforest.

"Welcome to the Conrad homestead," Casey said to his
passenger.  "And your home as long as you want to
stay."

"You and your wife live here?" Kevin asked.

"Just me," came the reply.  "Never found a girl I'd
want to marry."

Both men were half-hoping that the other -- if he were
so inclined -- would detect the underlying meaning.  If
either of them did, he didn't pursue the matter.

Casey parked the truck in front of the white, two-story
frame house. Kevin helped his host carry in several
bags of groceries and then retrieved his backpack.
Casey led him upstairs to what had been his sister's
bedroom but was empty now except for a bed, two chairs,
and an empty chest of drawers.  "If you expected a
bunk-house for farm hands," Casey said, "what you'll
have is a bedroom in the main house.  And access to the
kitchen, bathroom, or anywhere else you want."

"That's awfully kind, Casey.  And trusting.  We've only
just met.  Aren't you afraid I'll steal you blind and
disappear with your truck?"

"Not at all!  In fact, your asking the question only
confirms my confidence in your character.  Now, feel
free to freshen up.  Bathroom is at the end of the
hall.  I'll be putting away the groceries.  Come on
down to the kitchen when you're ready and we'll have
lunch."

Kevin was overcome with gratitude for the hospitality
(and friendship?) and felt like hugging the man who had
saved him from days without food or shelter.  But that,
he knew, would be inappropriate at best.  At worst, it
might reveal a secret that had already cost him a happy
home.

As Casey put away the groceries he heard the shower
running.  His mind filled with images of a naked Kevin
lathering up his admirable body.  Would he wash his
cock and balls?  Of course!  Would he get hard?
Possibly.  Would he jerk off?  Who knows?  The chain of
thoughts created a stir in Casey's loins.

Kevin did, in fact, bring himself to orgasm.  Because
the hot water streaming over his body felt so good and
since he hadn't cum in three days, it was particularly
satisfying.  He shot a palmful of his sweet-and-salty
cream as his imagination created a vision of Casey's
gift into his own left hand.  As he washed away the
evidence he wondered how many times Casey had done the
same.  Most probably a lot.

Casey was just starting to prepare lunch when Kevin
came into the kitchen.  Casey nearly dropped the
skillet when he saw his new housemate.  His emerging
beard was gone.  His hair was no longer disheveled.
 The rumpled clothes had been replaced by a tee shirt
and cut-off jeans, both of which hugged his muscular
body and left little to the imagination of the
masculine physique that lay beneath the clothes.

Kevin noticed Casey's reaction.  It was just what he
had hoped to elicit.  But, of course, it was not
convincing evidence of anything beyond surprise at the
transformation in his appearance.

"What happened to the guy I met in the diner?" Casey
asked.

Kevin laughed and said, "He got cleaned up, that's
all.  By the way, I used some of your shampoo.  I hope
you don't mind."

"You're free to use ANYTHING I have," Casey replied,
wondering if his new friend would pick up on the double
meaning.  He did but was afraid to divulge what he most
wanted to "use."

After lunch, Casey retrieved some of his work clothes
to loan to his new employee.  Although Kevin was six
years younger, he was slightly taller than Casey, his
shoulders were much broader; and his solidly-muscled
chest, arms, and legs were substantial.  In spite of
that, Casey was able to find shirts, overalls, and a
pair of boots that would fit.  The afternoon was spent
with a tour of the farm and a crash course in farming.
Since Kevin had some experience on his grandfather's
farm, he was able to quickly absorb all the information
although more time was required to explain the care of
the livestock since Kevin's grandfather had none.

Immediately following a late supper Casey said, "We run
on farmer's time here.  Early to bed and early to
rise.  Up at five thirty.  A couple of hours work from
six `til eight.   Breakfast, then back to work until
lunchtime.  Depending on what has to be done, we knock
off around six to clean up and have supper.  Makes for
a long day.  I hope you don't regret taking the job."

"Not at all," Kevin replied.  "I'd rather be busy than
lounging around ... or standing at the side of the
highway for hours with my thumb out, wishing somebody
would give me a ride."

Each man lay in bed that night fantasizing about the
other but periodically reminding himself that the
fantasies were unrealistic.  Casey indulged in
comparing Kevin to the boys he knew in high school and
who were fodder for his imagination when he
masturbated.  Over time, he had accepted the fact that
he would have to live with the frustration of not
experiencing the satisfaction of man-to-man sex.
Kevin, meanwhile, was grateful for a job but was not
willing to jeopardize it by revealing that he was gay.
He hoped that when he finally got to Reno, he could
find a like-minded partner.

<><><><><>

The following week seemed to pass quickly because of
the twelve-hour workday.  There was only a brief period
after supper that they could relax.  The strenuous
work, however, made bedtime a welcome part of the day.
Casey was impressed with Kevin's stamina and strength.
It made working the farm noticeably easier than when he
and his father did the work.  Casey caught himself
admiring Kevin's body from time to time but only
briefly; it was at night as he lay in bed alone that
his helper consumed his thoughts.  Kevin had similar
thoughts as he lay in bed but fondling himself, getting
hard, jerking off, and cumming.  He had long ago
learned to eat his cum so as not to leave any telltale
mess to be discovered by his parents and he continued
the habit while living with Casey.

During that first week, a rapport developed between
them, facilitated by similar senses of humor, empathy
for the other's loss of family, and what became a good-
natured competition over who could work harder.  There
were also a few instances in which one or the other of
them would be distracted from the work to admire his
new friend's (and they were rapidly becoming friends)
remarkable good looks.

Casey, for example, walked around from behind the
tractor to find Kevin pissing on the ground.  There in
plain sight was a beautiful cock.  Only by self-
discipline and habit was he able to resist the
temptation to admire it more than a few seconds but the
image would be called up as he masturbated that night
in bed.  On another occasion, Kevin walked down the
upstairs hall past Casey's bedroom door that had
carelessly been left open.  A completely naked Casey,
who had just showered, was rummaging through a drawer
to find his pajamas.  Kevin paused just long enough to
check out his employer's masculinity before proceeding
to the bathroom for his own shower.  The memory of what
he saw fueled his excitement as he jerked off under the
hot shower and had some hot, tangy desert before
hitting the sack.

Both men restrained themselves in conversation.  Each
feared revealing his attraction to the other, which
was, in a way, quite rational.  The consequences of
being known as a queer could easily ruin everything.
For his own reasons, neither of them wanted to risk
alienating the other and having to part ways; Kevin
needed the work and the money; Casey needed help.  But
each of them wished it were different.

Over breakfast on Friday Casey asked, "Wanna go to town
with me today?  I've got to go to the grocery, the feed
store, the bank, and stop by the lawyer's office.  We
can have lunch at Madge's."

Kevin readily agreed; it would be a day off work and,
more significantly, he had grown to enjoy being with
Casey.

They stopped at the bank first and Casey gave Kevin his
first week's wages: two hundred dollars.  "We never
talked about your pay," Casey said.  "I hope this is
enough."

"More than generous," Kevin replied.  "Especially
considering that I've eaten another hundred dollars or
so at your place this week."

They walked to the town's only diner for lunch where
Madge greeted them enthusiastically.  "I hoped ya'd be
back, young fellas.  Sure glad to see ya.  Got a
special today: hot roast beef sandwich, vegetables,
rolls, and fresh apple pie.  `Course ya can have
somethin' else if you want.  Casey treatin' you well?
Not workin' you too hard is he?  Farmin's almost as
tough as runnin' this here diner.  Why, yeste'day my
coffee maker just up and died.  Ya wouldn't believe the
grief I caught from customers when I served `em instant
coffee with boiled water.  Ya'da thought I was a mean
ole hag from their complaints.  But they was just
jokin' with me.  Have a seat.  I'll bring ya some
water."  Without waiting for a reply, she turned and
walked away.

"She always like that?" Kevin asked.

"Adorable, isn't she?" Casey grinned.

Kevin insisted on paying for lunch, explaining, "It's
my small way of thanking you for all you've done for
me.  Besides, I've got to pay Madge for my breakfast
last week."


Back at the farm they unloaded the truck and Casey
suggested they take the rest of the day off, an idea
that met no resistance.  They settled into the living
room after an early supper to enjoy cold beer and a
rare period of relaxation and conversation.  After the
third beer, Kevin, who was unaccustomed to alcohol,
began to slur his words.  They had a fourth and a fifth
(in spite of Casey's reservations) and Kevin began to
profusely thank Casey for giving him a job, for his
kind hospitality, and for being his `only friend in the
world.'  Casey realized they were the words of a drunk
but were spoken with unvarnished sincerity.  He also
recognized that it was time for Kevin to go to bed and
sleep it off, so he said, "I think you'd better hit the
sack, buddy, or you'll feel rotten in the morning."

It took a little more coaxing but Kevin agreed.  He
tried to stand but Casey had to help him up and steady
him across the room and up the stairs.  "I gotta piss.
Bad!" the drunken young man said.  He put his arm
around Casey's shoulders for support; Casey held him
around the waist and guided him into the bathroom.
Kevin was so unsteady that he had to keep his arm
around Casey while trying, unsuccessfully, to unzip his
fly.  "Guess I need some help ... good buddy," he said
sheepishly.

Casey unzipped his pants, fished out his cock, and
aimed it at the toilet bowl.  To that point, he had
been helping a virtually incapacitated friend but
suddenly realized that his hand was wrapped around
another man's cock ... for the first time in his life.
His excitement was amplified because it belonged to the
man whom he admired and whose character and body had
aroused him so often.  The strong stream of piss
dwindled to a trickle and then stopped.  Casey shook it
(which was not unusual) but succumbed to temptation and
fondled it for a moment (which in `normal' society was
taboo).  A silly grin crossed Kevin's face and he
subtly thrust his hips forward.  Casey could have
(should have?) ignored the signals but was compelled to
continue fondling -- something that he had wanted to do
for a long time.  His enjoyment was disrupted, however,
by the sudden thought that Kevin, when he sobered up,
would take offense at the inappropriate assault.

Kevin stumbled his way (with Casey's help) back to his
bedroom, struggled for a while to take off his
clothes.  He was only dimly aware of his motives when
he sat on the edge of his bed and asked, "Can't do it!
Would you do it for me?"

Casey was conflicted.  He could help his friend who
obviously needed help.  But alarm bells went off in his
mind.  Undressing Kevin would present a very arousing
sight and may very well cause him to do things that
were out of bounds.  Promising himself that he would
resist temptation, Casey took off Kevin's shirt.  The
sight of the bare, muscled chest made a dent in his
resolve.  Kevin fell backward onto the bed.  Casey
removed his shoes and socks, lifted his legs onto the
bed, and with difficulty took off his trousers, taking
note of the bulge in the briefs of the supine figure
that lay temptingly beneath him.  He was about to tuck
Kevin under the sheet and quilt when he noticed the
alcoholic stupor had taken its final toll; the
strikingly handsome young man had passed out.

Casey grew weak in the knees at the sight.  More
significantly, his good sense weakened.  He removed the
briefs that covered the one part of the magnificent
body he most wanted to see.  He reached down and
tentatively took the cock into his hand.  He fondled it
for a moment as his lust mounted.  He massaged the
pendulous balls full of the sperm that he wanted to
taste.  Kevin stirred, which brought Casey to his
senses.  Disgusted with himself for taking advantage,
he covered Kevin up and left for his own bedroom.  He
undressed and got into bed but he didn't fall asleep
for a long time.  He thought about his longing for
intimate relations with a man that had haunted him
since puberty.  He thought he had his yeaning under
control ... until he saw Kevin come into the diner ...
until he got to know him and quickly grew to like him
... until he saw him naked on the bed.  Oh, how he
wished it were possible to make love to him!

<><><><><>

In spite of a fitful sleep, Casey awoke early the next
morning, arose, slipped on a robe, and went downstairs
to make a pot of coffee.  An hour passed and he heard
the toilet flush upstairs.  Kevin came into the kitchen
a short time later, dressed for work.  "I'm sorry," he
said.  "I made an ass of myself last night.  I shoulda
known better.  I promise I won't do it again."

"Think nothing of it," Casey replied.  "You didn't do
anything wrong.  It's okay to get drunk once in a
while.  Think of it as recreation.  You sure don't get
much of that working dawn to dusk around here all
week."

Kevin poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the
kitchen table across from Casey.  "Getting a buzz is
one thing," he said.  "Fall-down drunk is another.  I'm
sorry."

"Stop it, Kevin!  No more apologies!  No harm, no
foul.  Okay?"

Kevin felt chastised on top of his guilt and fell
silent.  But not for long.  "I woke up this morning in
bed," he began hesitantly.  "But I don't remember
anything after going to the bathroom.  Did you put me
to bed?"

"Yeah," Casey replied.  "You really don't remember?
You must have been more drunk than I thought."

Kevin wanted to know more.  He wanted to know why he
woke up completely naked.  He wanted to know what
happened while he was naked.  But he was afraid to
ask.  What could he say?  `Did we have sex?'  That
would most certainly offend his employer and his
friend.

Casey decided to diplomatically change the subject.
"Not much has to be done today.  How about we take care
of the morning chores.  After lunch we can drive over
to Jefferson City.  There's a bowling alley on the
outskirts of town.  They've got billiard tables, too.
It'll be good to get away for a little while.  Sound
interesting?"

"Sure," Kevin exclaimed, the brightening of his spirits
obvious.

They had more fun than eight-year-olds at Disneyland.
They joked, laughed, and only occasionally looked
lustfully at the other's fluid movements bowling or
shooting pool.  On the drive back, they decided to stop
at Madge's diner for supper.

"Well, now!" Madge shrieked when they walked through
the door.  "What a treat it is to see you two this time
of day.  Have a seat.  Be with you in a minute."

They finished their meal with a piece of Madge's famous
custard pie and called her over to compliment her on
the meal.  She looked around at the half-dozen
customers, saw that nothing had to be done right away,
and sat down.  "Shucks," she blushed at the praise for
the food.  "Just good ole home cookin' is all.  Ya
oughta know that, Casey.  You and yur dad got used to
man-cookin'.  That ain't nearly so good.  Just t'other
day, I was saying the same thing to Jeff Stone.  His
wife's visiting her kin down in Al-bama.  Comes in here
most nights for real food.  Real nice fella, that
Jeff.  So how's it goin' on the farm?  Has he worked
your butt off, Kevin?  Don't let him do that!  Still
plannin' on goin' to Reno?  I don't think you should."

"Why's that, ma'am?" Kevin asked.

"First off, sonny, cut out that ma'am stuff.  Name's
Madge.  Why's that?  I'll tell ya.  You two would make
a mighty fine couple.  That's why."

Both Casey and Kevin were stunned at the implications
of what she said.  Each of them panicked that his
attraction to the other -- and his carefully guarded
secret -- had been noticed.  Casey regressed to the
defensiveness he had to employ in high school and said
emphatically, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Plain as the nose on yur face," Madge retorted.  "Ya
never had no girlfriends, did ya, Casey.  What does
that mean?  Didn't know `bout Kevin here `til tonight.
These old eyes  don't miss much.  Gotta be that way
runnin' this place.  Ya gotta know yur customers to
stay in this kind of bus'ness.  I seen the way ya look
at each other.  The sparkle in yur eyes.  The glow on
yur faces.  Both of ya!  There's a connection between
ya sure as God made little green apples.  Most folks
don't notice that.  I do.  I knew Steve and JoAnn Hayes
would get married afore they knew it.  They got five
kids now.  That little girl of theirs is a sweet thing
ain't she?  `Course you two won't have kids but ya
belong to each other.  So here's my advice.  Like it or
not I'm givin' it to ya.  Don't go to Reno, sonny.
Stick here with Casey.  Trust me.  Ya won't be sorry."

All the two men could do was to stare at each other in
disbelief that their friend might have secret
yearnings.  It strained credibility..

"There ya go again," Madge said with a tone of
triumph.  "Yur talkin' to each other with yur eyes.
 Yur both scared that yur secret's out.  Don't worry
none, young fellas.  I ain't gonna tell a soul.  All
I'm gonna do is wish ya all the happiness ya deserve.
And don't worry none about what t'other busybodies
think.  It's yur life.  Enjoy it!  Gotta go now.  Ole
man Stevens don't like to wait too long fer his apple
pie.  Good man, that fella, but wants his apple pie
soon's he finishes his supper."

Madge got back to work, leaving two astonished and
confused young men to absorb what she had said.

<><><><><>

The drive back to the farm was largely silent.  At
first, both men tried to make small talk but soon gave
up.  Each of them was lost in his  own thoughts -- about
what Madge had said, about their suppressed desires,
about the prospect of living together as a couple.  Was
it really so unlikely?  Could Madge really have sensed
the nature of his affection for the other?  More
importantly, was the affection she saw reciprocal?
Could she be trusted to keep a secret?  How many other
people would become suspicious?  The imponderable
questions demanded answers that were not obvious.

Upon entering the house Casey said, "Let's go into the
living room.  We need to talk."  When they had settled
into separate easy chairs, he continued.  "About what
Madge said.  I think we have to be honest with each
other.  I've known Madge since I was a little boy.
She's outspoken, sometimes brash.  She doesn't have a
lot of schooling, but she's possibly the wisest person
I know.  She noticed something in us ... both of us ...
something between us.  She's at least half-right.  That
bit about my never having a girlfriend.  The reason is
that I'm gay, Kevin.  Yeah.  Queer.  What's more, I
think you're very attractive ... in character,
responsibility, initiative, and -- to be honest, you
have a very desirable body.  I want to know if she's
more than half-right.  Are you gay?"

Kevin fidgeted before answering.  "Yes.  That's why dad
threw me out of the house.  I was in the back yard with
my friend, Jason.  We were playfully wrestling on the
grass.  I pinned him.  He looked at me with a grin and
rubbed his crotch against mine.  That was all the
confirmation I needed for my suspicions.  He was gay
like me.  I kissed him.  A long kiss.  Right on the
lips.  It was the first time I'd done anything with a
guy and it felt wonderful.  I didn't know my dad had
come home and saw us through the back window.  Next
thing I knew, he was pulling me to my feet.  He yelled
at Jason to get the fuck outta there and not come
back.  Ever!  He ran off but Dad started screaming at
me never to try anything like that again.  I wasn't
thinking and yelled back at him that I was gay and
there wasn't anything he could do about it.  Then the
beating began.  Between punches, he called me all kinds
of filthy names.  Finally, he ordered me to go to my
room and not come out until I was ready to apologize
and promise not to sin any more.  I missed super that
night but around midnight I packed some stuff in my
backpack and left.  I couldn't live a lie any longer.
But I couldn't be what I knew I was ... at least not
around my dad.  I slept in the park that night.  In the
morning, I closed my savings account at the bank and
took off for Reno.  I got as far as Missouri.  You know
the rest of the story."

Casey was appalled at the cruelty of a father toward a
son but suspected it was not the only arguments they
had.  "I'm sorry, Kevin.  I knew you'd argued with your
father but I didn't realize how insensitive and cruel
he was."

"That's history," Kevin said.  "More important is that
I met a guy in a diner in the middle of Missouri.  The
two weeks since then have been nothing but happy."

"So is Madge right or only half right?  Do you feel
toward me the same way I feel toward you?"

"Absolutely!  But I was afraid to say or do anything
for fear you'd kick me out.  With two weeks pay in my
pocket, I could make it to Reno but I want to stay here
with you.  I was pretty sure you were straight and we
could only be friends but I like it here.  I like you."

"Well isn't that a fine kettle of fish!" Casey
laughed.  "Here we were -- wanting each other all this
time but both of us were afraid to say so.  God bless
Madge for making us see the truth!"

Casey stood, walked over to Kevin, and lifted him out
of the chair.  The two new lovers embraced and kissed
each other with a passion that had been building for a
very long time.  They ground their crotches together
and were aroused further by the feel of the other's
hardening cock.  Casey took Kevin's hand and led him up
the stairs into his father's bedroom, the only bedroom
with a double bed.

Alternately kissing and removing articles of clothing,
they progressed toward what they craved.  Their arousal
climbed toward the pinnacle of sensual delight.  Soon,
they were lying on the bed, and pressing their naked
bodies hungrily together, driven by the dual forces of
emergent love and carnal lust.

Each of them, unknown to the other, grew apprehensive.
Neither of them had any experience with gay sex and had
only vague notions of how to go beyond kissing and
embracing.  Kevin was the first to voice his concerns.
"Be patient with me," he pleaded softly.  "I've never
done this and I'm not sure what to do ... doing it the
right way, I mean."

"Neither have I," Casey replied.  "We'll learn
together."

The two neophyte virgins, trusting their instincts,
navigated the path toward erotic ecstasy.  Casey, being
slightly older and more self-confident initially blazed
the trail.  He explored his new lover's body first with
his hands.  He relished the opportunity to feel the
hard muscles and the sprinkling of hair that had begun
to grow across the chest and below the navel.  When the
nipples responded by becoming firm and nudging outward,
his primordial instinct expressed itself and he began
to suckle them.  Kevin moaned with delight and surprise
at the erotic sensation.

Casey, encouraged by his partner's expressions of
pleasure, began to use his lips and tongue to continue
the exploration of the wonderful terrain that lay
between the nipples and the treasure below.  He soon
reached the bushy thicket of pubic hair that lay under
a pulsating pole.  He paused to inhale the masculine
scent, which stoked the raging fires of lust in him.
Clear precum oozed from the tip of Kevin's rod, fell
slowly to his stomach, and left a thread as though an
invisible spider had begun to spin its web.  Casey
licked it up eagerly from bottom to top, which
positioned his tongue on the tip of a very erect and
very hard penis.  It required no conscious thought for
Casey to lick the inflamed helmet, eliciting gasping
moans from his bedmate.  Nor was it anything but
subconscious behavior when he drew Kevin's cock into
his mouth.

It would be impossible to say which of the two men
derived more pleasure.  The best that can be said is
that each was experiencing separate but distinct joy in
equal measure.  There is sensual elation in both giving
and receiving.

Casey sucked and stroked for only a short time before
Kevin began instinctively to buck his hips and, in
effect, face-fuck his friend, his new lover, his
potential life-partner.  Kevin had learned how to delay
ejaculation when masturbating but the sensations that
now engulfed him surpassed, by far, anything he had
felt when he stimulated himself.  He was at the
pinnacle of arousal that triggered an orgasm with no
warning.  He involuntarily screamed and erupted into
Casey's mouth with several volleys of cum.

Casey was taken unaware by the flood of cream that
blasted into his mouth.  He would not have refused it
had he been warned but some of the precious nectar
slipped out of his mouth to coat the throbbing cock and
nestle into the pubic hair below.  He savored the taste
for a while (sweeter than his own!) but was forced to
swallow to make room for the stream that still came in
bursts against the back of his throat.

He held Kevin's cock in his mouth until the last drops
of cum oozed out ... and continued to hold it to
prolong his pleasure.  Inevitably, however, the steely
cock softened and he moved up to give his lover a
passionate kiss and an embrace.  He became concerned
when Kevin opened his tear-filled eyes.  "What's
wrong?" he asked anxiously.

Kevin pulled his lover into an even tighter embrace and
sobbed, "Nothing!  I'm just so damn happy.  It was
wonderful!  Beyond my wildest hopes!"

When he had recovered from the debilitating orgasm and
the powerful, emotional surge of appreciation and
affection, Kevin lavished attention on his new lover,
experiencing the joy of giving.  Casey, like his
partner, had the most satisfying orgasm of his life.
He wondered: Could it...  Would it... get any better as
they grew closer and became even more familiar with
each other's preferences?  Only time would tell.  But
how the hell could it get any better than this?

They were, with that symbolic union, no longer farm
owner and farm hand; they would share the work and the
profits as equals, as lovers, as committed partners.
Over the next several weeks they would discover the
rich variety of bestowing and receiving sensual
delight.  They would incrementally strengthen their
emotional bond and achieve a level of love and devotion
that enriched their lives.  In time, their joint
proprietorship of the farm would be formalized in the
county courthouse by signing a new deed as `joint
tenants in common.'

As time passed, tongues wagged in the community.
Curiosity became conjecture.  Speculation became
theory.  Assumptions became scandalous gossip.  None of
which was based on the two lovers' behavior in public.
They remembered Madge's perceptiveness and confined
their intimacy and mutual devotion to the privacy of
their home, shielded from view by a stand of stately
oaks.  They also remembered Madge as the catalyst that
shattered their shyness and opened their lives to
blissful joy.

The end

Acknowledgment:  Sincere thanks to Iatia for his
helpful suggestions, for his meticulous editing, and
his continuing encouragement.