By: Ryan Michaels
Based on a premise by unknown author
Based on a premise by unknown author
When my best friend John was sixteen, his dad ran off with another woman, leaving his family to fend for themselves. This resulted in John having to take over the majority of his dad's duties on the family farm. That took up a lot more of his time, with John having to get up very early most mornings and go to bed early most nights. We still hung out, but his work around the farm always came first.
The year his dad left was the first year that I helped John with the annual task of haymaking. He needed as much help as he could get, because all the farmers in the district were doing the same thing, so it was not always easy to find people.
Even though I dreaded haymaking season - I had hay fever, which always caught up with me later on in the night, and it was damn hard work - I have returned to help him every year since then for the past ten years. As John's best friend I felt it was my duty to help him out, so in that respect I didn't really mind.
John, on the other hand, loved haymaking season, despite the fact that he – or I should say we - had to work almost around the clock if the weather was good, trying to finish before it turned to rain and spoiled it all. In fact, he said haymaking season was his favorite time of year.
This year John had hired a part-time farmhand, who helped out on the weekends. His name was Mark, a nineteen year old local, whose regular job during the week was at a garage in the nearby small town. John had mentioned this and told me a bit about him before that day, and I was glad he had made the decision to hire him. The extra help with the haymaking would be nice.
The first thing I noticed about Mark was his good looks, and then his body. Dressed in a tight tank top and fairly tight knee-length shorts, it was evident he had a well-defined body. His arms and shoulders were strong from all the physical work he did, and his muscled pecs strained against the fabric of his tank top. Below the waist, his legs had a light covering of hair and were muscular and defined as well. His bulge was nothing to write home about; not really much showing, especially considering the tightness of his shorts. He had one hell of a great ass on him, though! His shorts showed off its shape perfectly.
Prior to my arrival, the weather had been kind and all the fields had been cut and everything was dried nicely. And now, with John having introduced Mark and me, it was time to get to work. The forecast had called for rain in the next few days, so the race was on to get all the hay baled and into the barn before then. But for now, the weather was absolutely perfect, not a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind.
As the three of us worked away on the huge task at hand, there was barely any chatter. I tried a few times, but neither John nor Mark seemed interested in talking. I shouldn't have been surprised. John was always 'on the job' and never stood still long enough to get a sentence out, never mind a conversation. As for Mark's lack of social engagement, according to John, he was having relationships problems, and John had warned me that Mark would probably be in a foul mood and keep to himself all weekend.
After about an hour or so, Mark stopped what he was doing, crossed his arms in front of himself, and peeled his tank top up and over his head. His chest was naturally smooth and absolutely beautiful. His stomach was taught and had what could easily become a nice six pack just peeking through the skin. I stared at his naked upper body as he tucked his tank top into the back of his shorts, and then went about applying the sun screen that John had provided. As he moved his hands all over his chest and stomach, I felt my dick starting to stir inside my own shorts, and had to force my eyes away and back to my work.
A little while later, John was taking off his shirt and applying sun screen, and then so was I. With the sun beating down on us, it was just too hot not to take them off.
Although I stole the odd glance at Mark, the work we were doing helped to keep my mind on the task at hand and off his body, and my cock.
At around nine o'clock that evening, the field had almost been cleared of bales. There was one full trailer left to haul to the barn, and one more partial load. With only room for one on the tractor, and no room on the trailer when it was full, one person had to transport and unload the hay bales. We had taken turns all day long, and it was John's turn now.
John set off with the full tractor at walking pace, careful with the loaded trailer going down the hill. The round trip would take about forty five minutes. While he was gone, Mark and I just had to pull the remaining bales to a loading spot, which wouldn't take us long to do at all. After that was done, we could take a good long break while we waited for John to return.
Once we were finished, we both sat down and leaned against the stack of bales. John had provided us with bottles of water, and we both grabbed one and took a few swigs. It was warm by that point, but still an instant thirst quencher.
Mark put his water down and slouched against the bale, staring at the sky, which had taken on a red glow in the twilight. Slouched as he was against the bale, his taught stomach sinking down a bit, the waist of his shorts had enticingly opened away from his body. I couldn't help but look, and actually found myself licking my lips as I imagined what lay nestled inside those shorts. And, once again, I felt my dick starting to awaken.
"So… John mentioned you and you're girlfriend are planning to get engaged soon," I said. John had told me that, too, and then said they'd had a fight, but I didn't just want to blurt out, "Hey John told me you and your girlfriend had a huge fight. What was it about?" The truth was, I was just trying to strike up a conversation with him, any kind of conversation, to keep my mind off his half naked body and slightly gaping shorts. Plus it was kind of awkward sitting there in the middle of a field not speaking to one another.
"Oh, it was more than just a fight, we're finished… for good this time," he replied.
"So what happened? If you don't mind me asking."
"I don't mind. It was because of her mother."
"Her mother? Oh, you mean she didn't like you or something, didn't want you marrying her daughter?"
"No, I mean it was like it wasn't just my girlfriend I was getting engaged too, it was her mother, too!"
"Her mother was the one who decided everything. I'd say, 'are we going out tonight?' and she would go and ask her fuckin' mother if it was ok! Mother this and mother that, sticking her nose into everything we did! And my girlfriend let her, encouraged her. We had lots of arguments about it, but nothing changed, and I knew it never would. Finally I just got fed up, had enough, and called it quits!" he explained.
"Wow, sorry to hear that, but it sounds like you made the only choice you could. But what about…"
"What about what?"
"Nothing, it's none of my business."
"It's ok, go ahead."
"Well, I heard that she was pregnant, and that's why you were getting married."
Mark laughed at my gossip. "Fuckin' small towns!" He then leaned over to me and said, "That was another thing that really got me; she didn't let me touch her, said she had to save it for the wedding night."
I was quite surprised by this revelation. Mark was a hot looking guy with a great body, and being nineteen and having a steady girlfriend, I was amazed he wasn't actually getting any! "No way, really?" I replied.
"Yeah, seriously. I think she'd have to ask her mom before we did it, even if we were married," he joked.
"How long did you two date?"
"Five years. Started dating when we were fourteen. She was my first girlfriend, and we were together ever since then until now."
First girlfriend? Since fourteen? Only girlfriend he's ever had? She never put out for him in all that time? That must mean that this hot, young stud is a… virgin. No way! "So when you said she said she was saving herself for the wedding night, you meant doing it, right? Fucking? She must have given you blowjobs, though, right?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Hand jobs at least?"
He shook his head again. "Not even that. Fuckin' bitch!"
"Did you ever cheat on her, get some on the side?"
"No. If I'd done that, around here, where everybody knows everybody and their business, she would've found out for sure."
"At least you would have gotten some, though."
"I know, but I was in love with her, thought I was anyway, and was willing to wait. Why do you think I was going to ask her to marry me at nineteen?"
I just couldn't resist, he had my attention now. "So what have you been doing, you know… for relief?''
He grinned at me and then looked to his crotch. My gaze followed his. "The only relief I get is from my right hand. And regularly!" He chuckled and nudged me. "That's the worst," he continued. "I'm a horny fucker and it needs lots of attention. I do it like five or six times a day sometimes. Always at least four times." Then he laughed and said, "Twice, I even managed to do it ten times in a day.''
I was flabbergasted. Here was this good looking guy, a total stud, and he wasn't getting any sex, had never had sex, except with his own hand, and he was flogging his log all the time, four to six times a day! And he was telling me all of this!
Speechless, I couldn't think of a suitable reply, but he broke the silence for me and said, "So, what about you?"
"Yeah, is that how you get relief, too?"
"Well, yeah, sometimes," I said, getting my wits back. "But nothing like four to six times a day."
"Oh, so you have a girlfriend, then?'' he asked.
"No, why do you say that?"
"Because you said you get relief like that only sometimes. You must be getting laid or else you'd be doing it all the time, wouldn't you?"
"Well I don't have a girlfriend, but there is someone I go out with now and again. We're more like good friends, but good enough friends to jump into bed together from time to time. Doesn't happen often, though." It was true, I just didn't bother to mention that the friend was another guy.
"So, basically what you're saying is that your best friend is your right hand, too," he laughed.
"Yeah, basically," I agreed.
What a weird turn of events. After all this time of nothing much said between us, now here he was all of a sudden talking to me like I was a good friend of his, the two of us laid against a hay bale, discussing his girlfriend problems and talking about jacking off like a couple of school boys.
But now things had fallen silent again, and I looked up to the beautiful night sky as I absorbed all that we had just talked about. When I took my eyes from the sky, Mark had slouched flat on the ground with just his head propped against the hay bale, and I noticed his hand was tucked inside the waist of his shorts, his fingers busily playing with his cock, but almost unconsciously on his part.
I nudged him, bringing him from his reverie and said with a smile on my face, "Is this one of the four times, or is it five, or six?''
He looked up and grinned. "Being out here all day with you guys, this will only be the second time today." He then nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. "How about you, your cock as big as the rest of you or what?'' he asked, taking in my long body.
I noticed when he asked the question that his hand started to move a bit faster inside his shorts. The idea that he was hard just by talking about dicks and jerking off made me harden up too, and I had to shuffle a bit to adjust myself inside the tight briefs I wore underneath my shorts.
"I've got a good handful," I offered.
"What do you call a good handful?''
"Oh about eight inches or so I guess. Never had a tape measure against it," I answered him truthfully.
"Shit! I'd call that more than a handful! I'd call that two handfuls!" he laughed.
I was about to return his question and ask him what he considered to be a handful, in the hopes of finding out how big his cock was, too, but I didn't have a chance. Instead I got something even better, something unexpected.
"This is what I'd call a handful," he said as he popped open the button on his shorts and pushed them down, along with his underwear, to below his balls to reveal his rock hard cock. He looked at his exposed cock for a moment and then up at me and said, "You agree?"
His cock looked to be about six inches. I wasn't a size queen, but I had to admit I was a little disappointed it wasn't bigger. With his height (I'm tall and he wasn't that much shorter than me), good looks and hot body, I guess I just expected to see a large piece of meat between his legs. Still, it was nice, though, and really quite thick. "Yeah, I guess so," I said.
"Let's have a look at yours, then. Can't see much when it's hidden under there," he said pointing at my crotch.
Hell, I wasn't shy, and I didn't have any problem shucking down my shorts and showing my hard dick to this hot young guy!