A Summer at the Farm - Chapter 11 (Patreon)

A SUMMER AT THE FARM

Chapter 11: Through the Wall

“The work at the farm is not too hard? With the heatwave going on? I check the weather in Utah sometimes and I think about you.”

I was on face-time with Liv.

She had just come back from work and for once, she was not going out that night so we had some time to chat.

It was 3 PM in Utah meaning that Joe was napping upstairs.

“It’s okay. You were right, I think I like it, working outside, being away from the city. I did fall from a chair like a dumbass a couple days ago but I’m already feeling better.”

She laughed.

“How did you manage to fall from a damn chair?”

“I was standing on it! I was trying to fix a lamp…”

She rolled her eyes playfully.

She was wearing a nice cleavage.

I was not a fan that she would wear such revealing clothes at her internship but I did enjoy what she was showing to the camera. I did miss sucking on those big titties.

“And how is it going with my dad? He seemed very happy with you when we talked last time.”

“It’s going great. Not gonna lie, it was weird at first when he was displaying his massive cock all the damn time. You would not believe it… When stiffed, Joe sports a twelve inches monster between his legs! I had never seen anything like it, Guinness World Records’ type of schlong! But after a couple days, I got used to it and now, to be honest, I’m totally obsessed with his meaty veiny cock.

Yes, I think about it pretty much 24/7. So much in fact that I want to put it my mouth and suck it dry… or wet. Things are getting a little steamy since we’ve started jerking-off together, but I’ll tell you what, we’re so close now that I even rimmed your father and his friends during a poker night game. Crazy, eh?”

Psych!

Obviously, I did not say any of that to Liv.

Instead, I searched for my words for so long that she became suspicious.

Olivia was a million years away from imagining anything sexual of course, but she caught that I was not telling her the full truth.

“What, Blake? Is there something wrong at the farm? He’s difficult with you, that’s it?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Your dad is very cool with me actually.”

“You’re sure? Look, I know him and how he can be… If he’s too harsh with you, too blunt or simply too rough, I can talk with him. Sometimes he does not get how to be polite or simply decent with people around him.”

I thought that “rough” was an interesting choice of words in our case.

“I cannot say that he’s very polite; I’ll grant you that. But I don’t mind it. In fact, I like it. He’s direct, there’s no bullshit. No, I promise, things are going well.”

She seemed relieved.

“Ok, then.”

For the last couple of days, our calls had gotten shorter. We were quickly running out of things to talk about.

It was strange because when we were living together and going to the same college, we always found things to discuss or argue about.

Aside from the sex, casually chatting and joking with Liv was my favourite thing to do with her. Even when we argued, the make-up sex was amazing.

Yet, when we should have had a lot to talk about in theory since we were experiencing completely different lives, we came out short.

I knew why, personally, I was not sharing much. I could not speak about most of the things (mostly big hard cocks and hairy manly asses) which were going through my mind at the time.

But why was she so closed-off? I barely knew anything about Olivia’s new friends or her life in Europe.

We hung-up the phone awkwardly, telling each other “I love you”.

I think that I meant it.

We had been separated for nearly three weeks and we had managed the distance pretty well up to that point, but now, I could feel a ledge slowly growing between us.

To be fair though, I was so preoccupied with figuring out what was going on with my libido that I did not have much brain space to think about Olivia. I had no energy to be jealous about what might happen during her trip anymore.

As the days went by, I was coming to terms with the fact that I was somehow attracted to her freaking father.

I know… Of all people on that damn planet!

Still, it felt very silly and surreal to formulate those thoughts but they were definitely there.

I went upstairs to wake Joe from his nap after the call.

He was sleeping on his stomach and I could not tell if he was hard.

I felt “too bad” that I would not be able to stare at his cock, before correcting my own thoughts: “Blake, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”.

The constant battle between attraction and shame was exhausting.

I looked at his hairy back and bum. It was a nice consolation.

I could bury my face in that ass crack. I really could. I had already done it actually, but I was drunk, not able to fully enjoy and remember the moment. I should definitely do that again.

“Joe?”

He did not react.

I walked closer to his sleeping body. He was snoring softly, his muscular back going up and down at a very slow rhythm.

I touched his shoulder. Even there, he was hairy.

“Joe? Time to wake up.”

“Hmmmf…”

He turned around. My fingers brushed through his armpits.

“Joe… It’s past 3.”

He yawned but kept his eyes shut.

I glanced at his cock. It was flaccid this time around, resting on his right thigh, maybe the beginning of a semi. It was always difficult to tell with Joe.

He was both a shower and a grower and his soft dong looked massive.

There was something else that I had already noticed before.

Even when he was not hard, Joe often had some droplets of precum stuck in his pubic hair or dripping from his wet cockhead, hidden behind his prominent foreskin.

The farmer was constantly leaking.

“I’m awake.” He grunted.

That made me jump. He seemed tense.

Should I propose a quick hand job to relax him before we go back to work? I wondered. I kind of wanted to and I could use the excuse of rendering the favour, that was his own reasoning.

I was about to suggest it when Joe straightened-up. He fondled with his cock a bit, scratched his balls, and coughed.

“What you’re waiting for, then? Let’s go. We have loads to do today.” He barked at me.

I came back to Earth.

Joe slid into his usual pair of tiny shorts, too small for his fat ass and too narrow to contain his large cock, and we went on with the work.

I started to consider that I may have been reading the signs all wrong.

Joe was not overthinking any of what we were doing. He was just horsing around with me, as if I were one of his mates. He was certainly not obsessing about my whereabouts like I was with him.

Probably, he did not give a single fuck about me… That thought hurt me a little.

Yet, at times, I caught him looking at me, at my bum more specifically.

And for fuck’s sake, he had been the one grabbing and stroking my cock the other day, and the one downright requesting a reciprocal hand job afterwards! I was not crazy! He was into me!

Right?

It was as if Joe was giving me enough to keep me entertained but was backing off as soon as things were about to get real serious. Just like when he had nutted right before I had a chance to swallow his cock.

He was hot and then he was cold.

As for me, I was just hot.

All the time. And it had nothing to do with the current heatwave.

At this point, I could no longer lie to myself and pretend like I did not want to taste his fat cock. Not that I considered myself gay or bisexual but I had an increasing urge to feel what it was like.

Just once, to suck a big meaty dick. You know, not to die ignorant!

I was not even sure I could fit Joe’s tool in my mouth, that bone was so girthy but I was damn certain that I wanted to try.

At night, I was trying things out with my fingers. Licking and sucking them off. Trying not to use my teeth.

I got really into blowjobs’ porn, studying the girls’ technique on the straight performers’ massive rods.

I felt ashamed afterwards, once I had nutted all over my stomach, but the guilt did not last long enough to prevent me from doing it again the following night, and then again, the night after that…

When I tried to fit a can of coke in my mouth, - the closest thing I could find to Joe’s cock -, I had a moment of self-awareness.

What the fuck was I turning into?

It did not stop me though. I sucked on my toothbrush, the back of the hammer in the barn, a bottle of massage oil, and of course, bananas.

Can you imagine what would have happened if Joe had caught me deepthroating one of his bananas in the kitchen? Maybe he would have thrown the fruit in the trash and replaced it with his engorged cock to punish me.

He would have had pounded me so hard.

The thought made my cock react…

Good Lord… I was really in deep shit.

And you know what? To my surprise, I was sort of natural at it. Sucking, I mean.

I had seen many girls struggling to fit my hard stick in their mouth, even after many attempts, while I could easily swallow a decent-sized banana without choking myself, only leaving a nice rope of saliva hanging.

But this fantasy of deepthroating Joe was simply out of the realm of the possibilities.

I would never compromise myself this way, especially not with my girlfriend’s father (I mean, what the fuck was I even thinking?!), and Joe would not let me anyway.

Jerking off, horsing around, taking bets or pledges, that was one thing, but sucking off another dude, that was just gay shit.

Unconceivable.

Everyone knew that and, this was probably the reason why when Bob had blown my own cock – twice -, this had happened in secret and not in the context of a silly party challenge.

In a way, I wished that I could have sucked Joe off without suffering any of the consequences. I wished it had been that easy.

To do it once to be done with it, exorcise the moment, and never speak about it again.

What if…

The idea that this was, in fact, possible, took time to implant itself into my brain.

I had not fully processed it until Thursday night when Joe told me that he had to go visit Bob in the afternoon the next day… On Friday!

What a coincidence…

“I’ll be gone most of the afternoon and probably on the evening. Keep yourself busy as you want, no need to work.”

Spontaneously, I had replied:

“I’ll have to leave early in the afternoon too, I have to go to get my car fixed. There’s an issue with the engine. I was postponing taking care of it.”

“Want me to have a look? Or ask Dave?”

“No, I’ve already made an appointment with a mechanic.”

The lie had come out from my mouth naturally. I had not even thought about it beforehand and at the time, I did not even fully understand the reason why I was lying.

The plan had been made up in my mind in a split second.

Well, when I say “my mind”, maybe my cock was doing most of the work here.

I would be leaving early, hide my car way behind the gas station like Bob had advised, go wait into one of the cubicles of the restrooms and hopefully, Joe’s cock would pass through the wall and I could blow him anonymously.

Of all the weird and sus things I had taken part in thus far, this one was clearly taking the cake.

If I wanted to go through with the plan, - which I was still not sure of -, and actually suck Joe’s humongous dripping cock, this would be very risky.

There were high chances for me to get caught, even if everything went right.

What if Bob or Dave was already there and saw me, would they kiss and tell?

What if there was a larger group of people present and I could not hide in a cubicle?

What if Joe would see my mouth wide opened near the hole and immediately recognized me?

What if he simply did not show up?

Yet, when I was imagining myself waiting on my knees in the damn cubicle, it was not fear or anxiety I was feeling the most, - although, the angsty emotions were definitely there -, I was mainly excited and eager to get down with it.

What if I could properly hide and feast on Joe’s cock without him even knowing about it?!

I jerked off and came twice that night, just picturing the scene. I nutted fat loads at that!

Fuck my life, I really wanted to blow the farmer’s throbbing dick.

I must have had put my brain on “off” when I hopped into my car right after lunch the next day. Otherwise, why the hell would have I done something so insane?

I said bye to Joe, he told me that he would certainly not be there when I would get back (you bet!) and I left.

My hands were trembling on the wheel, realizing what I was about to do.

Was I really going through with this?!

To make it less suspicious, I made sure to leave way before the time indicated by Bob (which was around 4 PM) and I found myself without nothing to do but wait for a couple of hours.

I went to the closest city (passed by the gas station on my way – seemed empty), ran a few errands, checked on MILFs who were equally eying me out, and I went back to the pub where I had promised myself never to return on my initial visit.

I drank a beer to relax. I was not sure this would be enough though.

I could not allow myself to drink anymore, or take any sort of drug, because I absolutely needed to have my mind sain and centred to execute the plan smoothly.

At 2:45 PM, I drove the other way to go back to the gas station where I parked in an isolated and hidden spot, further away. It was a bit ridiculous since I had to walk for nearly ten minutes to get to the station but better be safe than sorry.

There, only a truck was parked.

Phew!

It meant that neither Bob nor Joe was there.

I could abandon this crazy idea and go back to the farm at any given moment.

I did not though. I walked into the restrooms, and immediately recognized the distinct smell of cum and piss mixed together.

I did not have to wonder for long if the only trucker there was cruising. When I got inside, he was jerking off near the sink, in plain sight.

He was a big guy, older than Joe, probably in his fifties. His fat belly (probably due to the beer he must have been consuming everyday) was sticking out from his singlet. His top was dirty as hell. The sweat, some dirt, other suspicious stains.

He had a ring pierced on his cockhead. Ouch. I had always been weirded out by that.

I could hardly believe that I did not get that this place was a cruising spot right away when I went there the first time. Now, it appeared so clearly that this was a sleazy meeting place.

The man did not say “hi”.

He did not do anything actually. He simply glanced at me and kept stroking his cock.

I was not sure what I was supposed to do. I considered turning away and leaving for a second but my feet would not move.

I mean, I had chosen to be there.

I knew exactly what to expect but I had designed a plan to get here anyway.

Did the idea of kneeling down and sucking that cock instead of Joe’s crossed my mind? Yes. Crazy enough. It did.

But I had come to this restroom with a goal in mind and, I guess, this is my competitive spirit, I would not leave until the mission would be completed.

In any event, I would not have had the opportunity to suck that pervert. He came on the floor less than 30 seconds after I had walked on him.

Creamy and very thick loads.

Surely, that was what he had been waiting for all along, for someone to catch him.

He was lucky, a horny straight jock in his early 20s had decided to go cruising! I bet he rarely had such encounters.

Straight…

Was I still straight? The rest of the afternoon would certainly beg the question.

Once the trucker had left, - we had not exchanged a single word -, I paced around the restrooms.

I did take a leak, I had drunk a beer after all, and then, I simply waited to hear a car park nearby.

It took some time before anything else happened.

We were in the middle of the desert after all.

Another trucker came in about twenty-five minutes later.

I hid myself in the cubicle before he walked in. All I could hear was this stranger taking a massive shit in the stall next to mine. No dick, no stroking, no sucking, nothing. Only loud farts and awful smells…

Gross!

Since we were past 3:30 PM and we were approaching the time where Bob and Joe could potentially arrive, I remained in my cubicle. I needed to be discreet if they were to come.

I was very horny and I had to refrain myself from wanking off.

I preferred keeping my sexual energy if and when Joe would get there. I was watching hot girls on Insta without touching my cock. Okay, I was barely touching it, I stroked it a little.

What can I say? I am a horny man.

At 3:58 PM exactly (yes, I was checking the time every thirty seconds), someone else came in.

My heart started beating fast in my chest. I was sure that it was Joe.

The man got in the available cubicle next to me.

I got on my knees, feeling tingles everywhere. I could spy on the stranger through the hole, hoping he was not such a stranger…

The guy got his jeans down to his ankles.

Jeans?

That did not sound like Joe.

He was jerking off and seemed to have a fat cock as well but I did not know the guy. I moved around in my cubicle to look at my phone and the dude noticed that there was someone kneeling down on the other side of the glory hole.

“Yeah…” He groaned.

A second later, a brown cock passed through the wall and found itself right before my eyes.

Shit!

I was not expecting this. Well, not like this.

The dude thrusted his hips, the cock poked against my face. It smeared my cheeks with precum. I was like paralyzed.

“Gonna suck it or what?” A deep voice told me.

The schlong was throbbing heavily. I had rarely seen that, that dick looked like she had a mind of her own.

Precum fell on my thighs and knees. I was, as usual, only wearing some shorts and a tank top.

Once again, I had an opportunity to blow a cock. Right there.

Once again, I did not take it.

The Latino trucker was mad at me.

“Bullshit.” He grunted.

He got his hard cock out of the glory hole and mumbled some stuff that I could not understand in Spanish to express his frustration.

I felt bad.

I was so close to do it, to put that leaking sausage in my mouth, but in the end, something prevented me from doing so.

It was not that it would have made me “gay”… I could give many explanations to my hesitation, but to put it simply, that man was not Joe.

He stroked himself furiously on the other side of the wall and I heard him fapping for a good five minutes.

I was jerking off as well. By this point, I figured that Joe would not come anyway and maybe it was better this way.

Right before nutting, maybe ten minutes after he had attempted to have me blowing his dick, the Latino shoved his brown cock through the hole again, and then… The bastard exploded all over me!

“Hey!” I howled while I was being drenched with his male juice.

“Fuck you, man! You should learn not to tease horny truckers like that!”

He was still creaming me, volleys after volleys, I was getting a full shower!

“Asshole!” I insulted him.

He banged his fist against the wall. This was violent and I was afraid the whole thing would get shattered.

Believe me, those walls were neither thick nor solid.

“What’s your problem, cock-sucker who cannot even suck a dick?!”

What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

My immediate impulse was to stand up, get out from the cubicle and punch him in the face but I could not blow my cover. Also, I was covered in jizz.

I clenched my fist, looked at the cum dripping on my tank top and my calves, and I let the wanker go.

Shit. I should have gone shirtless! Now, how would I explain these stains?

I corrected this and I took my top off. I was sweating a lot anyway and it was way too hot in those restrooms to have anything on.

At 4:20 PM, I was done with this bullshit. I was no longer afraid or anxious, only the frustration remained.

Most of all, I was feeling stupid for kneeling all this time in a disgusting stinky restroom, and for what? Not to dare sucking a single cock!

Maybe the Latino dude was right… What was I doing there if I was not willing to blow him?

This was pathetic.

I was pathetic.

I was about to get up and leave when the door banged on the other side. I had not even heard the car come in but someone entered. Multiple people in fact.

Two guys were there. They were chatting together and… Fuck… I knew their voices!

My heart dropped in my chest.

That was them. Oh My God, that was really happening!

I heard them talk through the thin walls. Barely though, I was losing my mind. I had lost all my focus. I was stinking cum!

“Nobody was parked outside, seems to be a slow day.” Joe spoke.

My mind was spinning and my dick was at full mast.

“Someone might come… Otherwise… We’ll need to take care of each other… Don’t make that face!” Bob replied.

They both chuckled.

One of them tried to open the door of my stall. The handle moved.

I gasped. I was fully shaking.

“Wait, looks like there’s someone in there.” Joe banged against the door with his usual bluntness.

I could not move.

“Don’t scare him away!” Bob scolded him.

Did Bob know that this was me? Did he remember what he had told me about this place and the right time to meet?

I had missed the first rendezvous so maybe he had forgotten about it.

Either way, he let his spot to Joe.

“Get in there, I’ll just wait here, see if someone else comes around.”

Someone entered the stall next to mine.

This time I fully recognized his muscular hairy legs through the hole. I backed off a little to make sure he could not see me, even if he were to kneel down to have a look through the wall.

He did not kneel down though.

Why would he?

He had another goal in mind.

As I had dreamt about, Joe’s hard cock suddenly passed through the wall. It could barely fit through the hole; it was so damn massive.

And now, it was less than an inch from my lips…

“Come on, bitch, take a lick at your lollipop. I bet you’ve never seen one that big!”