Midnight Farmhand

by Roland Graeme

  Jacob put both hands on Hank’s powerfully developed body, caressing him, feeling his muscles, measuring them with his fingers.

  Hank offered no protest. On the contrary, he gasped, “That’s right. Touch me. Anywhere you want to. Everywhere—!”

  Emboldened by the man’s words, Jacob fondled him even more freely. Hank began to hump his ass even harder against Merle’s sucking mouth and fucking tongue. As the wide-open, rapidly flexing circle of his sphincter muscle came slowly into view, sticking out from between the two fingertips he was using to massage it and push it against Merle’s lips, Jacob thought he was going to burst from wanting him, from needing him.

  Hank stood there, hunched over, between Merle and Jacob. He stood there brazen, naked, posed so as to raise both of the other men toward the boiling point. And yet, in a way it seemed almost as though he were unaware of our presence. Slowly, sensuously, Hank caressed his own flesh, fondling his nipples, his belly, and finally the glistening, throbbing column of his wildly agitated cock. He jerked himself, while Merle continued to eat his ass with blind devotion, and Jacob’s restless hands worshipped his physique.

  “That’s right, you dirty whore,” Hank told Merle. “Get that fucking tongue in there. Lick that hole. Clean it out!”

  Merle emitted obscene grunts of pleasure and excitement as he struggled to satisfy his friend.

  Then, without warning, Hank snapped out of his trance. He straightened himself, turned around, and stood directly in front of Merle. He pushed his jutting erection toward Merle’s open, panting lips.

  “My cock,” Hank commanded. “Suck my cock some more!”

  Merle lurched forward and pressed his lips to the corded muscles of Hank’s belly. Quickly, he kissed his way down to Hank’s cock. He kissed it as well, before he opened his mouth in a wide, lewd yawn and engulfed the fat flared head of the hard-on between his lips. Jacob heard the erotic sounds of his boss’s lips and tongue working quickly, eagerly on the throbbing cockflesh … and Jacob’s own hotly aroused prick threatened to explode in helpless response.

  He embraced Hank from behind, pulling the man’s broad, sweaty back against his chest, while Merle continued to work on Hank’s dick.

  Hank’s hard, swollen nipples pressed into the palms of Jacob’s hands as he captured the man’s big pecs and dug his fingertips into the warm, succulent flesh. Hank threw his head back onto Jacob’s shoulder and ground his naked buttocks against the front of Jacob’s quivering belly, so that the farmhand’s cockshaft rubbed back and forth in the sweaty groove between his buns.

  The last remnants of Jacob’s self-control deserted me. Whimpering with pure sexual need, he captured Hank’s mouth with his own and plunged his tongue deep inside it.

  Hank returned his kiss with equal fervor, and he reached behind himself, forcing his hand in between their bodies, gripping Jacob’s swollen cockflesh, that was pulsating with a steady, insistent beat now and making Jacob’s entire body ache with desire.

  “Come on, Jacob,” Hank invited him breathlessly, when they finally broke their kiss. “Get down there next to Merle. Let’s get this party going. Let’s fuck!”

  Merle moved over to make room for them on the bed. He finally had his eyes open, although the glazed sheen in them suggested his vision might not be too accurately focused. He was still in a drunken semi-stupor; he moved rather sluggishly, his limbs seeming uncoordinated. Interestingly, the alcohol he’d consumed didn’t seem to diminish his sex drive, or inhibit his ability to sustain an erection. He was raring to go, and he didn’t seem to be too particular about into whose orifices, or which orifices, he stuck his cock.

  Jacob pressed his face close to Merle’s crotch, so that he could inhale the musky sweat of his genitals. Then, with one big hand, Merle reached down and pushed Jacob’s head against his groin. His hard cockshaft smacked against the farmhand’s nose and chin, and Jacob tried to back away from it—although his gaze never left that huge hard thing, and his mouth was already watering from his desire to suck it.

  Merle kept one hand on the back of Jacob’s head while with the other he grasped his dick and eased the foreskin back so that the bloated head of his cock emerged in all its potent glory. A thick, glistening drop of semen already hung suspended from his piss slit. With a slight motion of his hand, he once again slapped his cockshaft against Jacob’s face.

  “Suck it,” he grunted.

  “Go on, suck him,” Hank said, echoing the other man.

  Merle jabbed his dick against Jacob’s mouth so that it plunged between his lips and skidded over his teeth. At the same time, Merle tightened his grip on Jacob’s head, his fingers twisting around the youth’s disheveled hair.

  His cock slammed into Jacob’s mouth like a train going into a tunnel. It was every bit as big and solid as Jacob remembered it from his previous encounters with it, and it felt just as hot as it rubbed against his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Jacob could taste the light coating of seminal fluid on the cockhead; it was sticky, like warm honey, but salty, not sweet.

  “Suck it,” Merle repeated, drunkenly, even as he made damn sure that Jacob would suck it, by thrusting himself so far into Jacob’s mouth and down into his throat that Jacob nearly gagged.

  Jacob began sucking on the cock, while Merle began to move his pelvis against him in an instinctive humping rhythm, fucking his mouth.

  “Get some tongue into it,” he growled. “A hot little cocksucker like you can do better than that.”

  Jacob gave him what he wanted. He worked his tongue back and forth along the underside of Merle’s glans, swabbing his penis flesh from every possible angle. When he heard his boss let out a deep, shuddery groan of pleasure, and he felt him relax the pressure of his hand on his head a bit, Jacob knew that I was satisfying him—and Jacob had to admit that he experienced a rush of masochistic excitement at the thought. He sucked in a quick lungful of air, and then he plunged his mouth recklessly down on the penis, as far as it could go. The cockhead struck the back wall of his throat and he could feel it throbbing as his neck muscles contracted in protest around its bulk. Merle groaned again, his cock flexing inside Jacob’s mouth, and then he tightened his grip on Jacob’s hair again and pushed Jacob’s face roughly against the sweaty tangle of his pubic hair.

  “That’s right, bitch. Deep-throat the fucker! Choke on it!” Merle ordered him.

  His boss’s abuse of him had gotten Jacob wildly excited; he had a painful hard-on, himself.

  He was so busy trying to keep Merle satisfied that he’d forgotten all about Hank. Then, without any warning, Jacob felt Hank’s hot, wet mouth surrounding his own aching prick!

  Hank sucked Jacob as violently as Jacob was sucking Merle, taking the farmhand all the way down his throat with no apparent difficulty. As he blew Jacob, Hank deftly maneuvered himself until his own erection was jabbing at Merle’s lips. Still force-feeding Jacob with his cock, Merle began sucking Hank’s while Hank blew Jacob.

  Their bodies formed a triangle on the bed, heads locked between thighs, mouths stuffed with cock … their arms and legs thrashing about … their hot, glistening flesh shivering with mutual excitement. Steadily, inexorably, they pushed one another toward the bursting point.

  Of the three of them, Jacob suspected that Hank was the one who enjoyed himself the most. Unlike Merle, Hank was comparatively sober, and the coke didn’t seem to have impaired him. Unlike Jacob, Hank was obviously very sexually experienced. He was in his element, surrounded by adoring men, both of them his willing slaves who were eager to cater to him and fulfill his every need. He choreographed their sex, urging Jacob and Merle on with gestures and muted, cock-muffled grunts, as they continued to feed upon one another.

  Locked together, still sucking away nonstop, the three of them seemed to melt down onto the mattress, groaning and gasping, reaching out blindly with their hands to touch, to fondle, to explore and caress.

  Without warning, Merle withdrew from the activities for a moment, rolling away and pantin
g, trying to catch his breath. Jacob seized the opportunity and threw himself on top of Hank, forcing Hank’s legs wide apart with his own, and rubbing his burning dick against his in such a way as to render them both helpless with desire.

  He felt Hank’s chest crushed flat beneath his own … Hank’s belly, with those enviably hard abdominal muscles, quivering with arousal … Hank’s legs lifting into the air in order to intensify the contact.

  Hank seized the box of condoms, pulled one out, and pressed it into Jacob’s hand.

  “Fuck me,” the blond bodybuilder demanded. “Get that rubber on your dick and shove it up my ass!”

  Jacob put on the rubber, and smeared some lubricant over the latex. The next thing he knew, he was kneeling on the bed, with Hank’s legs draped over his shoulders—and Jacob’s cock inserted in Hank’s hot, tight ass.

  “Fuck me!” Hank shouted, louder. “Oh, God—fuck the hell out of me, stud!”

  With savage, selfish thrusts Jacob pounded himself against him, crying out with the pleasure of it, lost within the whirlpool of blissful sensation. Hank took everything that Jacob had to give him, squeezing Jacob’s plunging cockshaft not only with his sphincter, but with his rapidly flexing internal anal muscles.

  And then, just as he was thinking that no greater excitement could be possible, Jacob discovered he was wrong. Silently, Merle had moved up behind him, crawling across the bed on his hands and knees.

  Jacob felt Merle’s tongue flutter out and touch him on his back, between his shoulder blades. Then, slowly, maddeningly, Merle’s mouth moved downward, blazing a moist trail over the length of Jacob’s spine, around his hips, then over his buttocks … and further down, to his hot, smoldering balls. Merle lapped at Jacob’s testicles—and then he moved his face higher up, pressing his lips against Jacob’s anal pucker and licking his ass.

  Hank and Jacob cried out simultaneously as Merle’s tongue probed in and out of Jacob’s anus, the rimming inspiring Jacob to fuck Hank even more forcefully. For Jacob, in his stoned state, which seemed to make everything take place in slow motion, it was like several experiences rolled into one … the intensity, the sheer obscenity of having Hank beneath him with his asshole stretched around his cock, and Merle behind him, tongue-fucking him—!

  Time lost all significance as the three men thrashed about on the mattress, alternating positions, inventing new ones as the mood struck them. Roles reversed themselves, changed back, and then seemed to disappear altogether, as they yielded themselves willingly, totally, to the pursuit of pleasure.

  The two men took turns fucking Jacob—first Hank, then Merle.

  Jacob was on his hands and knees on the bed, once again sucking Merle’s dick, when he felt Hank’s hands on the cheeks of his ass, spreading them apart. As aroused as all three men were, they at least retained enough sense to use rubbers. Hank put a condom on his prick and applied a little lubricant. When Jacob first felt the pressure of his cockhead against his sphincter, he groaned in discomfort; but the sound was muffled by Merle’s cock plunging in and out of his mouth.

  Hank kept his cock positioned between the farmhand’s buttocks and tried to force the head of it through his anal opening; but he didn’t have it centered properly, so when he began to push forward, it hurt like hell! Jacob didn’t know if he was resisting—wriggling to get away from the onslaught; or cooperating—helping to fit that fat cockhead against his pucker. But he finally did manage to twist his butt in such a way that he succeeded in corkscrewing his ass down around Hank’s impaling shaft. The gym owner sank into him until his groin was pressed flush against Jacob’s buttocks, and Hank’s cock was fully embedded deep inside him. Then, when he pulled it back a little in preparation of making his first thrust, there was such a searing friction that it felt as though Jacob’s anus was being pulled inside out.

  “Fuck!” Jacob yelled.

  “How does that big old ‘mushroom cock’ of mine feel in you, buddy?” Hank asked.

  “That thing is fucking huge!”

  “Think you can take it?”

  “Only one way to find out. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

  “Let me know if it starts hurting you.”

  “I don’t give a damn if it hurts. I want to get fucked!”

  But once Hank began to fuck him in earnest, Jacob’s discomfort quickly vanished, to be replaced by a shameless, whorish desire to be fucked. He liked what Merle and Hank were doing to him. Merle’s big erection rammed into his throat and seemed to expend to even greater proportions with each thrust. Hank humped away in and out of his ass like a dog, his hands holding Jacob by his shoulders.

  Jacob came. His asshole seemed to contract even more fiercely than usual around Hank’s prickshaft, and he could feel himself spurting, helplessly.

  A moment later, Hank began to grunt more loudly as he ground himself against Jacob’s buttocks.

  “Fuck! I’m coming,” he panted. “I’m going to fill this hot little cocksucker’s ass with my goddamn jizz!”

  Jacob could feel the muscle man’s dick throbbing and jerking deep inside him, and he knew Hank was indeed ejaculating inside him. The load was contained by the condom, but in his heated imagination Jacob could see and feel it bursting free, like so much hot white lava, rinsing out his rectum. As Hank came, his hands gripped Jacob’s shoulders so hard that his fingers hurt him. Hank kept grunting, like an animal, and he really pounded his cock back and forth inside the tight clasp of Jacob’s ass.

  No more than a few seconds passed before Merle, too, was coming, his sperm thick and foamy and very hot as the first jet of it shot into Jacob’s throat. Then Jacob’s mouth just seemed to fill up with his boss’s cum. It brimmed over his lips and dripped down his chin, even though Jacob was swallowing it all the while. He couldn’t believe that a guy could have so much cum stored up inside him! It just kept on gushing out of Merle’s cock—not in spurts, but in a continuous, thick flow. And his prick seemed to grow hotter and harder with each pulsation it made inside Jacob’s mouth. Jacob just went on desperately sucking and swallowing, hoping that the flood tide of semen would never end. But, of course, eventually it did slow to a dribble, and Merle’s cock started to go soft in his mouth. At the same time, Hank pulled his spent dick out of Jacob’s ass.

  And then, at just about the same moment, they reached the limits of their endurance—!

  Hank’s throaty cry of delight seemed to announce that the time had come for release. Eagerly, Merle and Jacob worked themselves even more frenziedly, driving themselves and each other over the edge, leaping into the delightful, exhausting madness of completion.

  It seemed to go on forever: spasms and spasms of tumultuous sensation, that made them shiver and writhe about in coiled, serpentine patterns on the bed. And then, finally, when it was over and the universe seemed quiet again, they succumbed to the irresistible temptation of deep, dreamless sleep.

  Jacob knew that, in the morning, he’d no doubt be hung over. He would also be a day older—and considerably wiser. He’d pushed his body past all reasonable limits. But he knew, too, that his night of sexual excess with Merle and Hank was only the beginning of a life-long commitment to gay sex. He could no longer pretend to himself that, up to now, he’d only been “experimenting.” There could be no turning back for him now.

  Chapter Six: The Strong Arm of the Law

  After supper on Wednesday evening, Jacob was surprised and delighted to receive a call on his cell phone from Duane.

  “How was your Sunday?” the cop wanted to know. “Were you okay?”

  “I woke up with a hangover,” Jacob confessed. “But it was nothing that couldn’t be cured by hauling my ass out of bed, sucking down a couple of cups of strong coffee, and getting busy doing my work.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t suffer any lasting ill effects from that bender you went on.”

  “As I recall, I sweated a lot of that alcohol out of my system before I fell asleep,” Jacob retorted. “With a little help from a certain police officer.
He was my Good Samaritan. He rescued me, took me home, and tucked me into my bed. Although, come to think of it, I don’t remember that the Good Samaritan actually slept with the guy he rescued.”

  Duane laughed. “Trust me—as Mae West once said, ‘goodness had nothing to do with it.’ Anyway, the reason I called you is … what’ve you got planned for Friday night?”

  “Nothing in particular.”

  “You’re not going to hit the local bar scene again?”

  “Not for a while. Its appeal is kind of limited, and I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Why don’t you come to my place for dinner? Nothing fancy, but I think I can promise you it’ll be filling.”

  “I’d really like that, Duane.”

  “Good. It’s a date, then. And plan on spending the night, if you want to. I know you probably have to work on Saturday morning, but I can set the alarm so you’ll have plenty of time to get back to the farm.”

  “Spending the night with you—that sounds even better than the meal.”

  “I’ll make a point of trying to satisfy all of your appetites.”

  “What, all of them in one night? Impossible.”

  Jacob was delighted to hear Duane laugh, in response to this witticism. Jacob was beginning to get the hang of bantering with another male. Of course, it was easier over the phone, than face to face.

  “I’ll still give it a try. Want to come over around six?” Duane suggested. “That way, I can put you to bed early.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Hey, do you have something to write with? I’d better give you directions to my place. My house is on one of the side streets, on the edge of town.”

  Thursday and Friday seemed interminable to Jacob, but at last it was quitting time on Friday afternoon. Jacob warned the other men not to expect him for supper. No one seemed to think was odd or worthy of comment—except for Camilo, who frowned slightly and pursed his lips, but said nothing.

  Jacob showered and changed clothes, then drove into town. With the help of the directions Duane had given him, he found the short side street without difficulty. The house Duane rented was a modest two-story affair, with wood siding painted pale blue, with yellow trim. Overgrown rose bushes, which might have benefited from pruning, sagged under the weight of their red and white blooms in the small front yard.