“Jacob, sir, if you please. No one back home ever called me Jake.”
“Okay, got it.” (And, to give him credit, Greenley did seem to get it. He never, subsequently, addressed Jacob, or referred to him, as “Jake,” which was a nickname Jacob disliked.) “Well, men, unless any of you has any questions—you might as well get back to work. We’ll get together for other meetings like this, whenever it’s necessary.”
There weren’t any questions. All of the men seemed eager to be freed from the new manager’s scrutiny, and to get back to work.
Camilo waited until he and Jacob had left the house and were well out of earshot, before he ventured his succinct opinion.
“What an asshole,” Camilo said.
For some reason, Jacob felt an obligation to come to their new boss’s defense. “Oh, I don’t know,” he protested. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to be offensive.”
“You think not? Fuck! Then I’d hate to be around the son of a bitch when he does want to be offensive,” Camilo retorted. “Goddamn redneck,” he added, dismissively. “I’ve met his kind before. Nothing but trailer trash, that’s happened to come up in the world a little, and thinks that gives them the right to lord it over the rest of us. But I know how to handle them. Do your work, stay out of his way, and never give him any excuse to come down on hard on you. That’s what I plan on doing, and I’d advise you to do the same.”
Jacob could tell from the start that Merle and Camilo disliked each other. The two men were outwardly cordial toward each other. But they avoided each other’s company outside of work hours; Jacob didn’t think they’d ever had a casual conversation together.
Merle had bided his time. He waited for about a week before he made his move on Jacob.
He cornered the young farmhand after supper, one night.
“Don’t run off, Stoltzfus,” Merle said. “Come into my office, will you? I want to talk to you.”
“What about, sir?”
“You’ll find out. Come along.”
Jacob still hadn’t quite figured out what kind of a man the new manager was. But he already knew that Greenley liked to have things his own way, and wasn’t the type who tolerated dissent. Jacob may have been young and naïve, but he was smart enough to cover his ass. He wasn’t about to balk at such a peremptory invitation, which sounded more like a command.
The two men left the dining room and walked down a hallway together, without speaking further. Jacob hadn’t had any occasion to set foot in this part of the main house before, except for that one time when Greenley had introduced himself to all the employees, in his office.
When they were in the office, Greenley gestured toward a chair, before he seated himself behind his desk.
“Pull up a chair, Jacob,” he said.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Greenley pulled open one of the desk drawers, and produced a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
“Have a drink,” he invited Jacob. “You aren’t a teetotaler, are you?”
“No, sir.”
As he poured out the drinks and handed Jacob one, the manager gave him a searching look. “You’re a nice, polite kind of a boy,” he declared. “I’ve got to say that much for you. I like that.”
“I’m glad, Mr. Greenley.”
“Drink up,” Greenley urged.
Cautiously, Jacob sipped the whiskey.
There was a long, somewhat awkward pause, during which Greenley continued to stare at his young subordinate. Jacob sat there and waited for the man to say something.
“Don’t look so nervous,” Greenley began, quite casually. “I don’t bite.”
“I’m not nervous, sir,” Jacob lied.
“Maybe we can skip the ‘sir’ and the ‘Mr. Greenley,’ when it’s just the two of us talking, without any of the other men around,” Greenley suggested. “Call me Merle.”
“Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Merle.”
The manager smiled, thinly. “You are nervous, aren’t you?”
“A little—Merle.” Jacob caught himself before he said sir again.
“A little more of this hooch ought to cure that. Go on, suck it down,” Merle urged. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“I don’t want to get drunk. Not in front of you,” Jacob protested—although he allowed the other man to refill his glass.
“Why not? We’re both off the clock,” Merle said, with a nonchalance which took Jacob by surprise.
Jacob downed a mouthful of the whiskey.
Merle smiled at him. “Better?”
“Yes. Ah—I can’t help wondering what you want to talk to me about. Has my work been satisfactory?”
“Your work has been fine,” Merle assured him. “I’d just like to get to know you a little better, that’s all. Do you like working here?”
“Yes, I do.” Feeling somewhat emboldened, Jacob added, “Do you? After all, you’re new here, too.”
“That’s right. We’re both on probation, so to speak. That’s why it’s important that we establish a good working relationship, with the other men. And especially with each other.”
“That’s just what I want to do.”
“I can’t help noticing that you seem to be a bit of a loner, Jacob. Have you made any friends in town?”
“None to speak of. But I haven’t had a chance to spend much time in town.”
“You and that dude Camilo Bautista seem to be pretty tight.”
“We’re friends. He’s sort of looked out for me, ever since I got here.”
“Yeah, he’s a sly one, isn’t he? The kind you have to keep an eye on. A real player.” Merle didn’t elaborate, and Jacob was afraid to ask him exactly what he meant. “Has he ever put the make on you?”
“Put the make on me? I don’t know what you mean.”
“I want to know if that horny greaser has ever made a pass at you.”
“Of course not.”
“No? You look damn guilty, son, if you don’t mind my saying so. And you sound awful defensive, when you say that.”
“Do I?” Jacob said, stalling for time.
“You sure as hell do. What’s the matter? You embarrassed, by me talking about sex? I can’t imagine why. A good-looking young guy like you—you must’ve been hit on, plenty of times. Come on, you can tell me,” Merle coaxed. “We’re both men. We can talk about guy stuff. Sex stuff,” he specified. “We can share our secrets.”
“But I don’t have any secrets,” Jacob protested.
“Shit! Every man does.” Then, as though he’d been struck by a sudden thought, Merle exclaimed, “Jesus! That’s right … I forgot you’re just a little Mennonite boy, fresh off the family farm. You’re not still a frigging virgin, are you?”
Reddening, Jacob squirmed in his seat. “Please, Merle. Do we have to talk about this kind of thing?”
“You are shy, aren’t you? That’s sweet. Real sweet. I like that. I like it a lot. Come on, kid, you can tell me. Just pretend I’m your older brother, or your Daddy. Answer my question. Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“A relief? Why’s that?” Jacob asked, impulsively, without thinking.
The foreman laughed. “It makes me feel like a little less of a dirty old man, compared to you. I don’t like the thought of robbing the cradle.”
Jacob shook his head. “Sometimes, Merle, I don’t understand what you say—or what you might really mean by it.”
“Want me to put it in plain English? Just how fucking naïve are you, anyway? You must’ve guessed, by now. I’m gay, for Christ’s sake. And it hasn’t taken me long to find out that I’m not the only one around here. Not by a long shot.”
Jacob was stunned! He was a hick from the sticks, after all. He’d never heard anybody admit to him, on such short acquaintance, that he was gay. And, despite the example which had been set for him by Camilo, the idea that anybody as tough and masculine as Merle could be gay still freaked Jacob out. Even more startling was
the casualness with which the burly Texan had made the admission. He made it sound as though being gay was the most natural thing in the world.
But that was nothing compared to Jacob’s reaction when Merle got up and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his broad, hairy chest. Jacob stared at him—and Jacob could feel himself trembling.
“It’s kind of stuffy in here this evening,” Merle said.
“Is it?” Jacob responded, automatically.
“Yeah. I can feel myself sweating. Aren’t you? Aren’t you getting hot, I mean?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m okay.”
Merle smiled at him. “What’s the matter, boy? Are you still nervous?”
“No.” That had to be the biggest lie Jacob had ever uttered in his life. “What’ve I got to be nervous about?”
“Nothing, really. Like I said, I don’t bite. Not unless the other guy is into that sort of shit.” Merle shed his shirt. “That’s better,” he said, as, stripped to the waist, he resumed his seat. Sitting back, Merle picked up his glass, and gulped down the whiskey.
Jacob admired his brawny torso, and he doubted that he was being very subtle as he did so. Merle had big rounded shoulders and biceps, and massive pectoral muscles, each of which was crowned by a large brown nipple. Unlike some large men, though, he wasn’t chunky around the waist. He had a nicely defined set of abdominal muscles.
“So … tell me something about yourself,” Merle coached the younger man.
“What do you want to know?”
Jacob expected Merle to ask him for further details of where he came from, his family background, his prior work history—that sort of stuff. But Merle was full of surprises that evening.
“Is this your first time?” he asked Jacob.
“My first time what? Working on a farm? No, of course not. I grew up on one. I thought you knew that.”
Merle shrugged those broad shoulders of his. “That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it. I meant, your first time being with another guy.”
Jacob may have been a comparatively unsophisticated youth, but he still knew damn well that by being with another guy Merle wasn’t referring to hanging out in another man’s private living quarters with him and shooting the breeze!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jacob lied.
“Don’t you? Bullshit! So you’re no virgin, huh? Somehow, though, I don’t think you’ve dipped your wick in a lot of pussy,” Merle said, crudely. “I got a gut feeling that you like dick. So what’s the matter—don’t you like me?”
“I don’t know you very well, yet,” Jacob pointed out. “You don’t know me, either. Of course,” he added, hastily, “I don’t dislike you. I hope we’re going to be more than just boss and employee. I hope we can also be friends.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for, too. I thought it might be nice to get to know you. I was sort of hoping you’d feel the same way, about me.” Merle paused, obviously waiting for a response. But Jacob was too flustered, too tongue-tied, to come up with one. “Do I have to draw you a picture?” Merle asked, and now there was a slight edge of impatience in his voice.
“I guess maybe you do.”
“I think you’re damn cute. I wouldn’t mind it if we played around a little. You know. In bed,” Merle specified.
Jacob got the picture!
“Oh,” he mumbled. He could feel his face turning red again, and his pulse beating faster.
“You see, I sort of have had a tradition, on every farm I’ve worked on,” Merle went on, in a deceptively casual tone of voice. “A way of welcoming a new man, and helping him to feel at home.”
“That’s nice,” Jacob said, stalling for time. “How do you do that?”
“Well, I ain’t talking about baking the dude a cake. I leave that sort of thing to the cook. No, I figure it’s my job to break a new man in. Help him to relax and get comfortable being around a lot of other men. A lot of horny men,” Merle specified. “Let’s face it, we all have our needs. And in a small town like this, in the middle of nowhere, a man who likes to play around with other men doesn’t have that many options. You follow me, so far?”
“Sure. I mean—I guess I do.”
“My way of breaking in a new man is simple. I fuck his ass.”
“Do you?” Jacob replied, automatically.
“You bet I do. And when I fuck a guy, he knows he’s been fucked, afterward.”
“And the guy … does he always let you do it to him?”
“He does, if he wants to keep his job.” Seeing Jacob’s facial expression, Merle let out a short, terse, but contemptuous-sounding laugh. “I know what you’re thinking. Well, let me tell you something, boy. This ain’t the big city. I don’t want to be bothered hearing the words ‘sexual harassment’ coming out of your mouth. I’m the boss here, now. I’m in charge. I do the hiring and the firing. What I say, goes. If you want to work here, then you’d better learn to play along, and stay on my good side.”
Jacob was a realist—and, in all probability, somewhat of a pessimist and a cynic, as well. He’d been around enough to know better than to expect to receive something for nothing.
Perhaps if Merle Greenley had been repulsive to him, Jacob might’ve resented the position in which the foreman was putting him, and the far-from-subtle pressure the man was applying. But Merle was a virile, ruggedly handsome man. Jacob was attracted to him—sexually attracted to him. The young farmhand was being “coerced” into doing something he was in fact only too willing to give a try.
Merle seemed to interpret Jacob’s silence as acquiescence, or at least as a lack of overt resistance.
“So tell me,” the foreman asked. “What have you done, up to now? I mean, sexually,” he added, not giving Jacob a chance to play dumb.
“I don’t know.” Jacob made a nervous shrug. “Jacked off, of course.”
“Have you ever done it with a buddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about it,” Merle insisted.
“There’s not much to tell,” Jacob said. Searching his memory, he came up with a few details: “It was back home, on the farm. My cousin Luke and I—we jerked off together in the barn. At first, we just did it to ourselves, in front of each other—you know, watching each other. Then he put his hand on my cock, and I used mine on his.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“We both came.”
“What else?”
“I’ve had my dick sucked.”
“By who? This same guy, Luke?”
Jacob shrugged again. “Luke, yeah. And other guys my own age, who worked on the farms. We’d hang out together, and sometimes, when we got bored and horny, we’d start to experiment with each other. And then there’d be Englishmen—that is, outsiders—guys who picked me up. You know, I’d be walking along the road, minding my own business, and some man in a car would stop and offer me a ride. And then he’d pull over somewhere, and park, and we’d … do it. They were older than me, mostly. They’d blow me. They got off on it. They swallowed my stuff.”
“I bet you got off on it, too. Shooting your load down some horny cocksucker’s throat. Fuck! I bet a young stud like you can really come a lot,” Merle said, salaciously. “I bet you can choke a cocksucker with your load! Do you return the favor? Have you ever sucked a cock and swallowed a man’s cum?”
“Hell, no!” This was a barefaced lie, but Jacob was now desperate to say anything that might discourage the other man. If Merle thought he was woefully inexperienced, he might lose interest.
Merle laughed. “You sound awfully defensive about it. I’ve got news for you, my friend. Real men do suck cock. And you’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Wondered what it’d feel like to go down on a big, fat hard-on … slurp away on it … feel it sliding in and out of your mouth. And then shooting off, giving you a mouthful of another guy’s hot cum. Yeah, you’ve beat off in your bed at night, haven’t you, trying to imagine what a dick would feel like in your
mouth? Maybe, since I’ve come here and taken over, you’ve even jerked off thinking about me?”
“No,” Jacob protested, although his voice didn’t sound very convincing, even to his own ears. “No, I haven’t thought about any such thing!”
“Have it your own way.” Merle looked and sounded amused. “But tonight’s your lucky night. I’m going to give you a chance to do everything you’ve ever wanted to do with another man—and maybe a few things you haven’t thought about ever doing, too! And believe me, kid—you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. They all do. They always come back to me for more. Begging me for more!”
Jacob risked a final flash of defiance. “I won’t beg.”
“No? We’ll see. I think that’s enough talk, for now. So,” Merle pressed, “it’s time for you to make up your mind. Do you want to fuck around, or don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Jacob blurted out, stalling for time. “It’s not like you’re giving me much of a choice, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” Merle said, bluntly. “And I bet a smart guy like you is willing to do whatever he has to do, to get along in this world. I bet you’re willing to compromise. To put out. You’d better be,” Merle added; and he made the statement sound like a thinly veiled threat. “If you know what’s good for you. Do you?”
Jacob decided to attempt to negotiate. “You can blow me, if you want to. But I’m not going to blow you. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you stick your cock up my ass. I don’t do that. I don’t get fucked.” This was another brazen lie, but Jacob wasn’t going to show his hand until he had to. Not as long as there was still a chance he could bluff!
“Jesus! You ain’t been bullshitting me, have you? Are you sure this isn’t going to be your very first time? You sure you ain’t still a virgin? Oral and anal?”
“No,” Jacob admitted, with a faltering voice. “But I’m not really all that experienced,” he lied, hoping that the other man might go easier on him if he pretended to be comparatively innocent. “I can’t help that. And everybody’s a virgin before his first time—isn’t he?”
The foreman grinned. He had a very seductive grin, when he chose to display it. “I suppose you’ve got a point, there. I can remember my first time. Years ago! I was nervous, too. But I sure got over it fast! So, how about it? Do you want to start getting on my good side, son?”
Midnight Farmhand Page 5
