My split from Mark didn't come out of the blue. We had drifted apart for a while and he thought I lacked perspective. I couldn't really argue otherwise. I'd finished my degree almost a year ago and had taken on a call centre job as a stop gap to nothing. One drunken night things just came to a head and our heated argument would probably have made our neighbours split us up if we hadn't done it ourselves.
The irony is that the split in some ways did give me perspective. I applied for and was accepted onto a postgraduatedegree. Still, that wasn't until the end of September and it was only June. I decided to move back in with my parents until the air was cleared. Mark helped me gather the few things that belonged to me in our tiny London flat and I was on my way back home. The thing you need to know about the rural backwaters that I grew up in is that they are miles off anywhere. In the time-honoured fashion of gay men in my area (inasmuch as there were any) I had left for the big city as soon as I could. I would obviously go back to London but for now perhaps it wasn't the worst thing to get some physical as well as emotional and mental distance between myself and the city.
I left on an evening train, later than any commuters so after the first stop I was completely alone in my carriage. I was reading a novel but only half concentrating. The ghosts of the past were still with me in every sentence I read. I was wearing tight underpants and my balls that I hadn't shaved since leaving Mark were itchy from the hair growing back. Being alone, I freely reached into my pants whenever I needed to scratch. Except I wasn't quite as solitary as I thought. "Send us a postcard when you get there." the minibar man grinned as he approached my seat. I blushed. "I... I... " I stuttered but what was I going to say? "Don't mind me" he said, "sometimes a man's gotta do what man's gotta do." But I felt like I needed to apologise so I bought a beer off him.
My parents both came to the train station which was unusual. I guess they marked the occasion of me coming back for... well not for good but for more than a weekend. As usual I got a kiss from my mum and a grim hug from my dad.
I'd planned to spend the three months until I went back to London reading up on literature for my History Masters. I did that the first day, getting to work on a 500-page doorstopper about the Florentine Renaissance. In the evening my dad, the local mailman, came back from his roundand I helped him put up some trellises in the garden. My mum made my favourite -- unlimited pancakes, finishing with sweet ones with sugar and lemon -- and we watched a bit of TV. My parents didn't ask about Mark and much as I wanted them to, I also didn't really want to talk about it.
The next day my dad came back from his roundwith some news. Fred Hartley's summer help had broken his leg playing football and wouldn't be able to work for months. Wouldn't that be something for me rather than just sitting around? I was going to protest that gathering inside knowledge about the change from renaissance to enlightenment was hardly `sitting around' but I knew he wouldn't understand. The truth was, I could do with doing some non-thinking work as well. I said I'd drop by.
That afternoon I cycled round the Hartley's farm. Fred's mother opened the door. He was out in the back mending some fences. I went round and said hello. Fred and my dad have been best friends since school. He used to come round our house quite often but since his father died he had been busy with running his farm, and with me moving to London for university, the last time I saw him I must have been around 14 or 15. He looked me up and down. "Look at you all grown up!" he grinned. I couldn't help but blush. There had always been `those' rumours about Fred in the village but I'm pretty sure even my dad never got to the bottom of it. Being gay isn't the only reason a farmer might stay unmarried -- women aren't exactly queueing up to join the lifestyle.
We talked about the work that needed doing -- essentially making the best of the sunny weather forecast for the next few days to get the hay in. I told him I'd never done anything like that before but he reassured me it wasn't rocket science, just very long working days. Could I consider starting at 6am and work all day? Remembering my shifts in the call centre I said this wasn't new to me. I accepted the job and said I'd be there 6am tomorrow morning.
Well, I'd said I was used to getting up early but it was still really hard to get up at 5.30 in the morning. I had a quick cup of coffee, grabbed the sandwiches my mum had made for me the night before and set off. I was there 5 minutes early but even so, Fred was already waiting for me. We set off on his tractor, me sitting awkwardly on the side, and it was a long drive. When we got there, Fred explained some more about the raking, the gathering and the balling involved. It really wasn't that difficult but it did feel like hard work.
I was glad when he came over to where I was working and announced a coffee break. He'd brought some cake his mother had made and that he was happy to share. I've always been crap at small talk and maybe so was he because he just came right out with it: "So you're gay, huh?" We both laughed at his directness. But I could be direct too: "Yes. Are you?" He said that in all those years no-one had ever asked him outright but yes, he was gay too. "Can't be that easy out here." I said but he said there were options and he didn't mind it very much.
We'd finished the break and even though it was only 10.30 with the sun shining and the physical work, we were both getting hot. Fred took off his shirt and I did the same. This showed up the difference in our bodies. He wasn't exactly fat but definitely not as thin as me. His chest and belly were full of dark hair, whereas I'm nearly hairless, apart from thick bushes of hair under my armpits. The biggest difference, however, was that he was tanned all over from working outdoors while I looked white as a sheet compared to him. "Have you got any suncream with you?" he asked, "because you're going to need it today." I hadn't thought of that of course so he shared some of his with me. He asked me to do his back which I did and then turned round for him to do the same with me. It struck me that apart from the brief encounter on the train, this was the first time a man had touched me since I'd split from Mark. It was a nice feeling.
At the end of the day he drove us back to his farm. Fred lifted me up to `my' seat without asking and I was half amused and half turned on when he absent-mindedly licked my sweat off his hand. I was itchy all over and so was Fred. He said that we should have a shower as soon as possible to get off the dust-like grass parts. It's not so much the blades of grass that make you itch, it's the tiny particles you can't even see.
Fred had built a shower in an outhouse so you didn't have to walk through the house when you were dirty. He immediately started stripping off. I've always been awkward naked in the presence of strangers but it didn't matter. He wasn't really a stranger anyway. He said I could go first and I gladly accepted. He told me to use the sponge glove thing in the corner as the grass powder wouldn't just rinse off. Like earlier with the sun cream, he eventually came over and helped me with my back. It was such a relief to get rid of the itchy feeling. He'd done my back from top to bottom and -- as if it was the most normal thing in the world -- continued down my ass crack. I could have protested but it actually felt good. So good that my cock was responding. Fred fondled my hole for a while and then just suddenly stopped. "My turn in the shower now" he said. I was disappointed but understood that he was still itchy too. As I turned round there was no way I could have hidden my boner but I didn't need to as he was semi-erect himself. "Well," he said, "you are a big boy now!" He had his shower and I did his back the same way he did mine -- including the bit at the end. His hole felt tight and hungry at the same time. He, too, was now fully hard and started groaning. I kept massaging his hole and, standing behind him, used my left hand to slowly jerk him off.
The fact was though, we'd had a really long day in the hot sun and we would have the same again tomorrow so neither of wanted to go further. "I don't have time for more but I really need to cum today." he said and quickly squirted his man cream against the shower door. I felt exactly the same so I threw off the sponge glove and brought myself off, shooting all over Fred's back. As he asked for his sweat-soaked underpants to clean the glass, I couldn't resist having a sniff. He wiped off the cum and handed me them back: "Do you want to swap?" I sure did...
The next day we didn't wait that long. We started work as before but when it was time to put on suncream, Fred did my back and went straight for my hole. I did the same to him and he said: "Come over here!", pointing towards the little woods to the left. I followed him and he took my hand. As soon as we got there he started to suck me off. I came in no time and he swallowed it all and then licked my cock clean. I wanted to return the favour but he said we had more work to get on with and he was right. "Saturday night" he promised and got back to work.
The next couple of days there was a silent understanding that we would `save' ourselves for Saturday. We still played with our asses and cocks in the shower but didn't let each other cum. At night I lay in my old bed and tried to get my head round it. The man was literally old enough to be my father. He'd gone to school with my actual father. He was bald, a bit overweight, far more hairy than I would normally find attractive and yet, the way that hair rose from his pants all over his belly, his inviting hole and the smell of his armpits... I always ended up smelling his sweat and cum soaked underpants and jerking off again.
Saturday came round. Fred's mother had gone out for a meal with a friend. "Yes, we do have restaurants in the country!" he answered the puzzled look on my face. He offered me a beer and asked me to sit down. Instead I went straight in for the kill. I'd waited long enough. I walked up to him and softly began to kiss him. He responded with a tenderness that surprised me. We kissed for several minutes, really exploring each other's tongues and then he slowly began to undress me. "Bedroom", he whispered.
I followed him upstairs. He was clearly well prepared for tonight. Next to the bed there was a big bottle of lube and two poppers bottles. We were now completely naked and he told me to lie on the bed. Fred licked his index finger and gently started to run it round my hole, not unlike he did in the shower. The sensation was great but I knew even better things were coming. He offered me a sniff of the poppers and just as they hit me, he replaced his finger with his tongue. Feeling that warm, wet organ opening my ring up was indescribable. A moan escaped my lips. He gave me the full rimming treatment, only coming up for air once and saying: "Man, you taste good!". Any questions I may had about how experienced he might be out here in the country were answered. He had obviously done this many times before.
His tongue eating my crack and my hole felt so good but I needed more. "I want you to fuck me" I whispered. " `I want' never gets" he teased, "what's the magic word?" - "Please fuck me!" I said, surprising myself how urgent and almost desperate I sounded. He lubed me up and then greased up his cock. His cock was smaller than mine but thicker and extremely straight. Once again, he stuck a finger up my ass, adding another one and then a third one. He told me to have some more poppers and then gently pushed his cock in. After the initial sweet pain, I was in heaven. He staid still for a couple of seconds and then slowly started to move. With every push I wanted more. I wanted to jerk myself off but was afraid I'd cum within seconds. Fred just kept fucking me on and on and I never wanted him to stop. "Yes! Yes!" I groaned more than once. Eventually he could hold back no longer and shot his warm juice violently into me. Now I allowed myself to cum as well and just as I thought it only took a couple of strokes and I jizzed all over Fred's duvet.
At that moment we heard Fred's mother come home and not wanting to be the talk of the town, I kept quiet. "She'll go straight to bed" Fred whispered. I lay in his arms, every so often getting a whiff of his armpits, and then rolled over and kissed him for a long time. I hadn't had time yet to explore his body so I traced his spine with my finger down to his hairy crack and then his legs. I didn't care about gossip. Right now, lying in bed with this man was all I wanted and I didn't care what anyone else thought.