The Farmers' Co-op By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
If you enjoy these stories, please consider giving a donation to Nifty.
I'm Steven White and I am the owner-manager of the Plainsville Farmers Co-op. Plainsville is just the way you would think it is, except flatter. People say it's a good place to raise kids, but I have noticed not many of the kids seem to stick around after graduation from High School.
Compared to the surrounding country side, Plainsville is sophisticated and progressive. The farms here are big, widely spaced and lonely. We have a Baptist, Methodist and a Presbyterian Church here. To give you some idea of what the town is like, the Presbyterians are considered the wild and crazy ones. Some even vote Democratic.
The town has cable TV, otherwise only the Omaha station signals can reach us on good days. Some farms have satellite dishes. Everyone in town knows everyone else's business. The beauty shops are at the core of gossip. They are squarely in the born-again school. They enforced virtue.
The Co-op includes a feed and seed and was located in town until we had a fire and almost burned down the whole community. We relocated ten miles out of town on an isolated site. Since there was no truck stop in town, we provided diesel fuel for machinery and for trucks. Our men's room provided a locker room for our employees and a shower room that could be used by the truck drivers.
Our Co-Op required our staff to wear a clean uniform every day. We had a uniform service that provided the clean uniforms, since most of our people did laundry once a week if we were lucky. They use to take a weekly bath too. That was problem in the summer.
We had a good many bachelor farmers as customers. They tended to be more tolerant of the isolation of farm life. Most the women seemed to leave and go to a big city like Omaha. The Co-Op was the social center for the Bachelor farmers. They kept to themselves and were what use to be called confirmed bachelors. That was a respectable category, like spinsters and maiden aunts. They did not hang out with whores or lose women.
Going to the Co-op was business not pleasure so they could go the co-op, talk with friends and take a break from the farm, and still pretend they were working. I had a coffee pot and a daily delivery of dough-nuts. That was gourmet food for them.
A good portion of my staff were bachelors too. Much of the work was heavy lifting and dirty too. We didn't attract delicate types. I'm a bachelor myself and I knew the types who liked working for me.
In town being a bachelor was a sin. You deprived a good woman of having a husband. Once we moved out of town I fell off the radar. Bachelor farmers were regarded as unsuitable material for marriage. The farmers weren't much into the social graces, like talking.
Years earlier Tommy Goodhue, one of the bachelors, discovered I had a taste for man sex. We were at the men's room of old co-op before it burned. The urinals didn't have any screens and he checked me out. I'm not a good looking man, but I look better with my cock pulled out and pissing. His organ was a beer can, thick and stubby. We talked a little. I zipped up and told him I had some information on a new combine at my office.
He appeared at my office ten minutes later. I closed the door and he unzipped. I gave his cock a tongue and lip massage. His cock looked like a beer can but was ultra-sensitive. He shivered and it twitched as I worked it over. As I expected, he shot off quickly. Long fuses aren't typical of bachelor farmers. I took his load and continued to tongue massage his organ until I had coaxed every drop of sperm and post orgasmic drool from his balls.
I had a friend for life. It wasn't that I had given him a blow job; he had some of those before. It was that I took his load and then sucked up the remains. He could leave the office without a wet spot on his pants. Of course that wasn't the only reason. I could tell his cock head was very sensitive after the orgasm and he was still having intensely pleasurable mini-ejaculations five minutes after the main fireworks. A little twitching and squirting was good for me too. Five or ten minutes of pleasure was way better than thirty seconds.
Tommy was a farmer who grew things. The only edible thing his body grew was incubating in his balls. Guys had spit it out when he shot off in their mouths before. He liked it when I ate his special brew. It told me it was "real nice," which was as complimentary as he ever got.
A week later, Al Wilberforce came to see me. He told me Tommy had mentioned that I had some interesting information on combines. Al was an opinionated jerk most of the time. He came to my office and I shut the door; he was nervous and not spouting off half-baked opinions like usual. I guessed what he wanted.
"Did Tommy tell you we had a good time?" I asked. Al nodded. He was shivering a little in excitement. I unzipped my pants and fished out my cock. Al almost drooled. Much to my surprise he came over to me, dropped to his knees and began to suck. A little later we switched positions. His cock was thin with a downward bend. It was very easy to deep throat and that floated Al's boat. Like Tommy, Al had a short fuse. He had balls that seemed to be too big for his cock. They were full when he shot the first volley, and empty ten minutes later. He was exceeding grateful. I found out Al was actually pleasant when sexually aroused. He seemed to stay pleasant until his balls refilled.
I soon found out that word got out that I was a cum hound. A few days after that, Raleigh Smith dropped by. He was the Agricultural agent for the area. He too was interested in the combine. Raleigh was good looking and muscular. His cock was beautiful. I would say it was on the high side of average in terms of size, but it was also perfectly formed. He had some extra skin and his knob was still covered even when he was fully erect. I had met someone like that years before, but Raleigh was better. All of his man ooze and drool were stored in the foreskin. I loved that and I liked licking his sensitive knob deep inside the wrapper. I like the cream, but I like a pretty spigot too.
I happened to move a finger in the direction of his ass hole and found he didn't object at all. When it reached the hole, I discovered it was lubricated. I found his prostate and massaged it. Raleigh was going crazy by then. I felt the little gland fill up and get hard. I pulled away from his cock, but kept the puckered tip of his foreskin firmly clamped shut. He filled the foreskin with man cream. When I let it lose, he flooded my mouth; I then deep throated him. I pulled back and concentrated on his still spewing cock head. I was a little afraid he might pass out, but he didn't.
I was a townie and wasn't a part of the farmer culture. I knew the town fags, the florist, the Methodist choir director and the City Clerk. I hadn't guesses about Raleigh or Al. Tommy seemed to be connected to all the sexually needy bachelors. Like all human beings, they found alternative sexual outlets. For them it wasn't sex, it was just fooling around, or letting off some steam. Tommy had a knack for finding men who like to fool around.
I knew I was gay and I liked gay sex. The bachelor farmers were all straight, but I discovered that when I introduced them to more intense sexual experiences, they responded well. I considered being frank and telling them that they were all gay as a goose and to get over it.
That was a step too far. I liked sex with men and it didn't matter if my partner thought he was gay or straight. In general they were nice, shy, big and burly men. I liked it when they glowed with pleasure as I sucked their cocks and then drained the entire contents of their balls.
I also thought I could ease them into more intense sexual activity. They were shy and uneasy, but not fools. Their lives were conventional and filled with repetitive, boring work. Farming is both boring and filled with anxiety. Farmers don't control the temperature or the rain and wind. You can have a late or early frost, a drought or tornado and all is gone in an instant. Sex with friends could take of the edge. They might not be adventurous, but their cocks could feel it when something was good.
Tommy continued to send pals to see me. Some were a surprise. The wild and crazy Jones twins came by. While they farmed, they were free spirits and considered hippies. The twins were thin, small men and I had to suck them together. That was a bit complicated, but successful. Sexually they were very up tight. More surprising was Trooper Willis of the State Police. He was a hard ass, straight from the book man who had a particularly needy cock and sperm filled balls. He was also horse hung.
When the Co-Op moved, the situation improved. The new men's room connected to a staff locker room and showers. We sold insecticides and chemicals and the men had to shower after possible exposure. The Co-Op's organization was strict about this due to the health problems and the possible law suits. The shower had password protected locks. The staff had the password and we also gave it to truck drivers who needed to shower. Next to the shower was another room.
The Co-Op was a U-shaped building with the retail wing flanked by a warehouse for the seed and feed on one side and a second building for machinery and machinery repair on the other. The courtyard in between was used for storage, but any cars parked there were invisible from the street. We closed five o'clock. My hourly staff changed in the locker room and were gone by five fifteen.
We had used the men's room and my office at the old Co-Op as a playroom before. The new facilities were much larger and the shower was a big plus. The private parking in the rear was good too. I talked with Tommy about the potential.
"I was wondering if you and your pals might like to kick it up a notch," I asked him.
"We might be," Tommy relied. He was always a bit cagy and rarely gave a direct answer. "What we do is good, but some might like to try some new things."
"As far as I can tell, you all like sex?"
"I don't think of it as sex. We're just guys having a good time," he said. "It's lonely on the farm and it's nice to have some relief."
"A lot of relief is better than some relief," I said. "I've done some things that curl your toes."
Tommy smiled. "Well, I admit, that has some appeal. I'll talk to the guys," he said. "Some may be into it more. They like the way you drain their balls. Anything that reduces the pressure down there is welcome." He paused. "One of two told me they might like to fuck a guy," he added, almost in a whisper.
"I don't think that would be a problem at all," I said. "Why don't you come by next Monday and we could try out the new facilities."
"Could I bring a buddy or two along with me?" he asked. I said sure. I had a grand plan. I had been treating sex as a random and rare event. I never knew when someone might drop in and visit my office. Most of the time we would hem and haw for a while until one of us suggested we might relax a little. All those conversations about possibly buying some farm equipment cut into the time we could use for sex. I wanted sex to be a regular part of my life, not an extra added attraction. I want to provide a safe place you could go to and dependably had some fun.
This was a little tricky. Tommy and most of his friends pretended the sex was just an incidental part of their lives. It might have been incidental, but it was the high point of the day if not the month. I assume if there was a place, the farmers would come.
On Tuesday, Tommy, Trooper Willis and Raleigh stayed late. Once the staff had gone and the building was locked up, I said I was going to the shower and asked if they would like to inspect the new facilities. They were interested so we went to the showers. Fred, our regular truck driver who made two or three deliveries a week for the main warehouse in Little Rock, was showering. Fred was a pal of mine and he was always ready for fun. Fred had complete control of his cock and could be hard, half-hard or soft depending on the situation. Funny and cheerful, his cock was a spark plug.
They liked seeing a naked guy showering. I talked Tommy and his pals into trying out the shower. Fred saw us and said the water was nice. Fred wasn't shy at all, he got hard as we joined him. Erections are contagious. He complimented Willis and the Raleigh on their display. Fred was full service and was prone to drop the soap. This both got his head down to cock sucking level and exposed his asshole to view. I had a good idea of what would happen.
While the men were shy, God gave them sex organs that were always ready to boogie. Fred went for Tommy's cock. I handled the Raleigh. Willis saw the potential in Fred's ass. A half hour later we all knew each other pretty well. It wasn't wild or crazy, but it was fun for all. I didn't push anyone out of his comfort zone. Willis fucked Fred as Tommy sucked him. Tommy took a mouthful of Fred's special sauce without complaint. I slipped my cock into Raleigh's behind and he was nothing but smiles. Over the next month or two, most of Tommy's friends visited and had a good time after hours. The group formed an informal club with slightly odd admission standards.
I was brought up in town. Dad was a banker and Mom had been a school teacher. We lived a conventional life. Farmer's kids had a conventional life too, but they knew a lot more about sex than I did. Animals did it all the time and they saw it. Of course they were interested and many had tried it.
Fred was a revelation to them. Fred was a man's man. He was big, brawny, hairy and muscular. He liked it in the ass. He loved the bottom. If truth be told, he like the bottom, top, the sideways and if there was a way to like sex inside out, he would have liked it too. It wasn't just that he liked the bottom; he was unapologetic about it. He liked it and he didn't care who knew.
That was new to them. If Fred liked it, they were free to like it too. He also made being a bottom acceptable. Everyone likes to top, but quite a few liked to take a cock, and some had an itch in the ass they guessed a buddy's cock would scratch just right. I assumed if you thought you were a straight cock sucker, being a strait fucker wasn't that much of a jump.
Trooper Willis loved it too. He was used to quick pokes into the rear of a nervous guy. I knew from my own experience that Fred possessed a fully functioning sex organ in his ass. Not only did he love it, his ass could clench, wiggle and undulate; his ass was a sperm milking machine. Willis realized his own ass might have that potential.
The farmers were also more partial to group play than I had guessed. I had learned to swim at the town beach with Mr. Brown, the Scout master. Many of the farm kids learned in the old swimming hole, skinny dipping. As they got older most stopped that, but some still had fond memories. Splashing around in the water and fondling a pal's cock under the water had been exciting and fun. My shower room was more fun.
I assumed the men were lived alone and had few sex buds. After a few months, men brought their pals to visit. I knew the pals were actually lovers, but I never said anything about that. As long as they were playful, they were fine with me. Eventually most of the gay men in the area came by to play.
We also had some straight men who just liked some cock play. Milton White was a prosperous farmer who had five kids. He liked to drain his balls without worrying about a sixth child. He was sexually driven, but faithful to his wife. In his mind, man sex didn't count.
He was intensely masculine, friendly and good looking man. Milton liked to be sucked and he liked to fuck. Since most men wanted to please him, I noticed that men who normally were tops were willing to bend over for him sometimes. Milton was pretty open minded about sex and almost casual.
Milton was sexually generous and he didn't mind sucking a cock and taking a load once and a while as an expression of gratitude. He told me that was basically out of a sense of fair play. "Once you've rear loaded a guys a few times it's just common courtesy to taste his special sauce," he said. I think it was more than that.
Milton was nice in other ways too. He didn't play favorites. There were a few tubby men and several skinny scare crows in the group. Milton was an equal opportunity fucker. If you were willing to take it, he was willing to shove it up your ass. While he always ended up deep in an ass, he took his time. He seemed to get off on his playmate's pleasure and he worked you over good. He told me he liked the tight confines of an ass, so he took his time.
I noticed Milton tended to shoot off when his playmate was moaning and squirming. He loved it when the guy was begging him to go deeper. Milton had huge ejaculations and he figured shooting his sperm a few inches further up a guy's love tunnel counted as deeper. His playmates liked it too.
Elbert Dodson was a short, fat nurse who was used to being treated like shit. Milton said he had an incredibly tight hole. Apparently a number of men had forced their way in; Elbert accepted that; any sex was better than no sex at all. Milton did a job on him. He eased his cock into the nurse's ass and then took his time working Elbert into a frenzy. I don't think Elbert knew sex could be that good.
Another time Milton gave the same treatment to Henry. Henry was a hired hand with a cleft pallet and with borderline intelligence. Milton treated him as a man and not as the town retard. He slow fucked him to a hands free orgasm. Henry loved it. Milton also liked Henry's special sauce, he said it was thicker and creamier than the normal cock brew. Milton was a dairy farmer and thick cream was a good thing. Milton's recommendation was enough for most men; Henry liked being used as a sperm cow.
Curiously, while everyone liked Milton, he seems to have had a friendly cock but not a cock that made promises. Sex was sex with no strings attached. He was a friend with benefits and not lover. I was worried that Elbert and Henry might form an attachment, but they were all just buddies.
I usually had a little get together on Saturday nights. We closed at 3:00 Saturday afternoons. None of my farmer friends had any plans and it was a good night for most. Fred usually couldn't be there, but Trooper Willis was almost always in attendance. He was on duty from 8:00 at night to 4:00 in the morning on Saturdays. He called it the drunk shift. He wanted some relaxation before the night's activities. Sometimes he brought a guy named Southard to the showers. He was the police chief of Hillsville, a town 40 miles away. No one else knew who he was. The Hillsville hill was 50 feet tall, so it wasn't quite up to post card standard.
Southard was a bit over weight and furry, but he possessed and intensely needy ass. It seemed to take three or four loads deep in his ass to make him happy. Al Wilberforce was a regular. It seemed that regular sex diminished his tendency to be an asshole. From time to time he was a nice guy.