Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2020 00:25:09 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bobby Perry <bobby.perry11@yahoo.com>
Subject: Our Farm Hand Provided My Education - Gay youths

This story is a work of fiction. It may include sex acts between underage
boys and girls, minor incest and a consensual sex act between a minor and
an adult. If this kind of story offends you, best hit delete now. If
however you are more liberal than that, then please proceed. Any comments,
suggestions or criticism would be greatly
appreciated. bobby.perry11@yahoo.com

If you enjoy stories like this than please consider donating to help keep
this site alive. You can do so here...

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Our farm was largely in wheat but we did have some dairy cattle and we
always had a few sheep and pigs, some of which we sold and some of which we
butchered for our own use.

My mother was Scottish and the sheep were her idea. The rest of us were not
fond of lamb but we bravely stood up to it every other month or so when she
got the urge. While I did not enjoy eating lamb, I must admit that the
animals were more fun to work with than the cows. This was not just that
they didn't require milking, an act we always had to do by hand, but they
were much more fun to be around. Perhaps, as a young child, I found them
more 'cuddly'.  Certainly their small size made them easier to handle.

We did not have the usual large farm family. Besides myself my older sister
was the only child. Carol was three years older than me and although we got
along well enough we were not 'buddies'. As a result, I was pretty much of
a loner, finding my own entertainment on the farm. While I was always busy
with chores I took whatever time I could in the evening to read. My father
called me a dreamer and I guess I was.

I was twelve that Autumn that the harvest crew came in to help get the
wheat in.  In those days there were not the big combines that are seen on
the farms today. Instead, we hitched up the large flywheel on the old
International Harvester tractor to the even older thrashing machine.

It was impossible for one man to harvest a large crop of wheat back then.
Instead, crews came in to fork the sheaves into the large hay
wagons. Horses, several teams of them, brought the sheaves to the thrashing
machine which was set up near the barn. One at a time the sheaves were fed
to the rusting, galvanized monster where they were chewed up in some
mysterious fashion that saw wheat grains issue from one spout while the
rest was blown from another to form an ever growing mountain of straw and
chafe.

Thrashing time was always exciting for me. Strange men appeared at the farm
and I found there talk fascinating and I listened keenly. My parents were
always careful with their language but these men were not so fastidious.  I
saw my mother look at me strangely at times when a particular word was used
at the large table that the family shared with the crew. While my parents
would normally not have tolerated such loose talk they had to make
allowances for these men, many of whom came from other nearby farms and who
were reciprocating help my father had provided them.

That Autumn Andy came in to work with the thrashing crew. He was not from
the district but had shown up at a nearby farm a week earlier and had
helped with the thrashing there. He was only about seventeen but he was a
hard and willing worker who had been recommended to my father who had
agreed to take him on.

Andy's hard work and quiet demeanor quite impressed my father who invited
him to stay on when the thrashing crew left. It was understood that he
would not be paid much but he would be taken in as part of the family.

Our house was a large, frame structure, built in a tee shape. There were
two bedrooms on the main floor, one occupied by my sister and the other by
my parents. The upstairs of the larger part of the house had been divided
into two large rooms at each end of the gables. The narrow stairs rose to a
small hallway in the centre and from here a door led into each of the two
rooms. A window was located in the gable end of each.

The rooms would have been larger but they were right under the roof and as
a result a wide strip on each side was divided off with a wall that ran the
length of the whole upstairs. These areas were used for storage and
contained things usually held in attics, trunks, extra clothing, and the
like.

Both of the upstairs room had a rough, square door that opened on each side
to the storage areas. As these dark corridors ran the length of the house,
you could leave one room through one door and enter the other through the
next. When Carol had been more prone to play with me we had often used
these features in our games, getting quite filthy in the process as dirt
and cobwebs were the main feature of the further recesses.

The room at the West end of the building had been mine since my earliest
recollections.  The other had been maintained as a guest room, occupied by
relatives when they made their infrequent visits.

I had always been happy with this arrangement as I could climb to my tower
and escape to the privacy that fed my fantasy world. Now, with Andy
entering the home, the other upstairs room became his. At first I resented
this intrusion. I felt that I had lost much of my privacy.

Andy seemed to be sensitive to my feelings for he did all he could to be as
unobtrusive as possible. In short order he won me over and I soon found
myself seeking him out to ask questions and to share my feelings.

On some occasions I noticed that Andy seemed preoccupied. My efforts to
engage him in conversation or more properly pester him, I suppose, were
gently rebuffed. Instead Andy would retreat to his room, lock the door and
remain there in silence. Within an hour he would usually reappear, his
normal friendly self.

I could not understand his strange behavior. One day after Andy had closed
his door and with a soft click had thrown the bolt, I went to my own room
and lay on my bed thinking on the matter. Suddenly, driven by curiosity and
some resentment, I opened the door to one of the storage areas and, with
infinite care, crept through the dark towards his room.

As I approached the far end of the house I could see the light from Andy's
room glinting between the gaps around the ill fitting closet door.
Approaching soundlessly I peered through the top gap which was fully half
an inch wide.

My view of the room was from the head of Andy's bed which had been pushed
against the cupboard door, blocking it completely. Andy was standing at the
window that looked East towards the farm yard. He was naked. I had never
seen him undressed before.

From my angle I could see a quarter view of Andy's back. I was struck by
the lean muscular back that ended in two tight cheeks.  His long smooth
legs ended in bare feet spread wide on the floor. My breath caught in my
throat as I was struck with his beauty.

I could not imagine why he should be undressed. It was just after Supper
and it was still quite light out. I knew he would not be going to bed and
it did not look like he was just changing his clothing, something that was
very limited in any case.

I had only been at the crack for a few moments when Andy turned from the
window. I was about to jump back in the darkness of my hiding place, afraid
he would be able to see me, but his turning had revealed a sight that froze
me in my place.

At the base of Andy's belly was a blondish tuft of hair and protruding from
that was an organ the likes of which I had never seen before. I had seen
friends as they had seen me when we had stopped to urinate in the fields
while playing. I had also seen my penis get strangely hard on occasions,
something I could not quite understand, but I had never seen anything like
of this.

Pointing high in the air his penis swayed as he turned. Its long pale shaft
was topped by an enlarged, slightly darker head.  Walking towards the bed,
and me, the giant instrument rocked from side to side. I found I was
holding my breath as he turned his back to me and sat on the bed.

Laying on his back, his penis was again exposed to my view but this time he
was holding it clutched in his tight fist. His head was only a few inches
from my own and my view, from about a foot higher, was along his naked
body. While I watched in amazement, he began to draw the skin on his penis
slowly up and down, his strokes went from the down at the base of the shaft
to the reddish knob at the top.

I could not understand this behavior but it was strangely exciting. For
some reason my own small penis had grown hard and felt constricted in my
pants.

While I watched, Andy spit into his right hand and smeared his saliva over
the end of his penis. He then began to slide his wet hand slowly over the
slick head. I could hear his slightly accelerated breathing and the soft
wet sounds his hand made with each stroke.

Andy stroked and massaged his penis like this for a long time, often
re-wetting his hand with another gob of spit. I wondered at the purpose of
all this and my knees were getting quite sore from kneeling on the rough
fir planking.

I was trying to figure out how to withdraw silently enough not to reveal
myself when I noticed that Andy had begun to increase his strokes. Soon his
hand was a rapid blur as he stroked. His back arched and he groaned
softly. With a soft cry he went rigid. His hand ceased pumping but he
continued clutching his penis. At that same instant a spurt of white liquid
erupted from the end of it. While his hand squeezed his shaft spasmodically
more spurts erupted to splash onto his belly. After this several lesser
eruptions issued forth to run over his fingers and down into the hair at
his groin.

The scene before me was frozen like this for several moments and I could
hear Andy's rough breathing.  As I watched the rigid penis lost some of its
hardness and size.

Andy and I both lay silent for several minutes before he rose from the
bed. Taking a piece of rag from the floor where I had not seen it, he moped
up the thick fluid that was now running slowly under the influence of
gravity. By the time he was done cleaning himself his penis was flaccid.
Even in this shape it was the biggest I had ever seen although I must
admit, I had seen very few.

While Andy finished cleaning himself I took the opportunity to crawl
silently back to my room. Closing the closet door I made sure that my hall
door was bolted and then lay on my bed to consider what I had seen.

Shortly later I heard Andy's door open and listened as he clumped down to
the kitchen.  In the silence that followed I could visualize his long lean
back and felt strangely drawn to him.  Remembering his penis as I had first
seen it, I stood and stripped my own clothes off.

Looking down at myself I could see a vague resemblance to Andy in the
appearance of my body. My penis was slightly hard, pointing away from my
body. I knew I suffered from comparison with the young man. My thin,
undeveloped legs grew from a hairless groin. Above that a pale white trunk
showed little muscle. My arms, scrawny by comparison, hung at my sides, the
elbows large and knobby.

With a sigh, I turned my attention to my penis.  Grasping that organ in my
fist as I had seen Andy do, I began rubbing it slowly up and down. At first
I could feel nothing but the effect on my penis was noticeable as it was
soon getting harder. Continuing in a like way I began to experience a
strange feeling. There was a tingling in my groin that grew as I rubbed my
hard penis.

Suddenly, a bit frightened by the strange feeling, I let go of my penis. It
remained high and erect in front to me, harder than I had ever seen it
before. The strange feeling slowly abated and with it my fear.

Laying down on the bed as Andy had done I again started to stroke my penis
which poked high into the air. The strange sensation came quickly back.
Remembering what I had seen Andy do, I spit on my hand and rubbed the
saliva over the head and shaft. The slick sensation that resulted
heightened the tickling pleasure I was experiencing. I continued to play
thus, occasionally re-wetting my hand with spit.

The pleasurable sensations that were engulfing me continued to grow. I had
no idea where they were leading but by now I was determined to pursue them
to the end. My stroking became more frantic and I felt that I was losing
control of myself. With a suddenness that startled me, I reached my
climax. An involuntary cry escaped me. I could feel my groin and penis
pulse with each jolt of pleasure. I looked down, expecting to see white
spurts erupting from my glistening penis but there was nothing flowing onto
my belly.

"What a miracle," I thought, when my senses returned. My penis was now soft
again but I looked at it with new interest. Here was a real treasure. A
free one. With great curiosity, I again stroked myself and again the flesh
hardened under my fingers. With more control this time I experimented with
my strokes. My mouth was nearly dry from spitting into my hand but I kept
at my labours until once again the feeling I was seeking rose up from my
belly like a flock of fluttering birds to spread pleasure through my body.

Laying gasping on the bed I was again overcome with the miracle of it. Why
had no one told me of this before? All those years of ignorance flashed in
front of me. A terrible waste.

In wonder and curiosity I tried for a third time to find the pleasure I had
experienced but to my amazement could not reach the magic plateau. I was
suddenly afraid that I had done myself some harm. Afraid I had killed the
magic in my belly and would no longer experience the wonderful feeling that
had been revealed to me. When I finally gave up in frustration my small
penis was quite sore from the beating it had taken.

It was several days later, and after I had ample opportunity to discover
that I had not killed the beast of pleasure on that first greedy day, that
I decided that I had to talk to someone about this marvelous act. I knew
that I could not talk to my parents or my sister. That left only Andy but I
could not think how to break the subject to him. I certainly didn't want
him to know that I had spied on him.

My first tentative effort to broach the subject came up when we were in the
hay loft tossing feed down to the cows. We were both naked to the waist and
sweat glistened on our backs as the pitch forks flashed.

"Andy," I said, when he paused to wipe sweat from his forehead.

He looked at me, waiting for me to go on. The sun was shinning in bright
beams through the cracks in the wall. Below, the soft sounds of the feeding
cattle continued.

"I did something the other day," I said, flushing in embarrassment but
determined to continue.

"Yeah," Andy encouraged, sitting on an unopened bale of hay. I suppose he
could see my embarrassment because he smiled that wonderful smile of his
for encouragement.

"I rubbed myself," I blurted, "And a strange feeling came over me."

For a second I thought Andy was going to laugh, but instead he just nodded
his head understandingly. Picking up a loose piece of hay and putting it
into his mouth he began to chew distractedly on it. "Where did you rub
yourself?" he asked.

Without saying anything I pointed to my groin. He nodded, casually, pulling
the wet piece of hay from his mouth and examining it carefully. "What did
it feel like?" he asked, still not looking at me.

"It felt good," I admitted.

"Like what?"

"Like nothing else," I said trying to think of a comparison. "At first I
thought I had hurt something, but I guess not."

"Did you try it again?" he asked.

I nodded,yes.

"A few times?" He looked at me seriously.

I nodded again.

"Feels good all the time does it?" he looked at the soggy piece of grass
critically.

"Yes," I said.

"Shouldn't hurt you," he said finally,"But I wouldn't tell your dad about
it if I were you."

"No,"I said, slightly alarmed at the suggestion. He laughed at my quick
rejection of this idea.

"It won't hurt you," he repeated, "Everyone does it."

"Everyone?" I said, in obvious awe at the thought. I had not considered
this possibility. I had an instant picture of my father laying on his bed
clutching his penis.  I suppose I had assumed that Andy and I had a secret
we alone where aware of. One he had unintentionally and unknowingly let me
in on.

This time Andy did laugh lightly. "Well not everyone, I suppose. Mostly
young guys that don't have wifes or girlfriends to help them out." He
looked at me strangely. "It's just sex kid," he said. "When you meet a girl
or get married you have sex and it feels like that."

I was dumfounded. I had seen all kinds of sex on the farm. We were
constantly having the cows and other animals bred. I had witnessed all of
these acts. I knew they were required if the animals were to have young but
I had no idea there was such pleasure involved in the act. Suddenly I was
aware of the eagerness with which the coupling always occurred. What a fool
I was. Of course!

Suddenly, I thought of something else. "Do you do it?" I asked.

Andy looked at me strangely. "Why?" he asked.

"Well, you arn't married," I pointed out.

With a sigh Andy threw away the chewed bit of grass. "Yes," he said
finally, not enlarging on the topic.

"How do you do it?" I asked him, bolder now.

He looked at me with a small smile. "How do you do it?" he countered.

I was a bit embarrassed now."I just rub it up and down," I said making a
motion in front of my groin.

Andy nodded, clinically. "Show me," he said, seemingly interested.

I was blushing furiously now and could feel the heat in my face, but all of
this talk about it had left me quite excited. I unbuttoned my pants and
withdrew my erect penis. I watched him carefully when I did this, afraid he
would laugh at it, but he seemed quite fascinated. I put my hand around the
shaft and stroked it a few times, displaying my technique.

"No," Andy said. "If you want to do it right you have to strip right
down. Let me show you." Slipping of his boots he unbuckled his belt and
pulled his jeans down, throwing them on a nearby bale. I could see his
penis was hard. His underwear bulged out at an odd angle but he quickly and
smoothly pulled these down too, tossing them on top of his jeans. His freed
penis jutted high in the air. My breath caught in my throat. I thought I
wouldn't be able to catch my breath and a small gasp escaped me.

"You too,"he said, smiling slightly. He stood close to me, his penis
proudly extended in the bright sunlight that shone in the hay door. I
quickly repeated his actions and was soon standing embarrassed and excited
in front of him.

My penis shamed me. Standing there with him, naked in the loft, I compared
myself to Andy and found myself wanting in every way. Despite this he
looked at me appraisingly and nodded in satisfaction.

"You're going to fill out into a real man he said," after his scrutiny. His
words pleased me immensely.

"Touch it," Andy said, indicating his rigid penis. I wanted to, desperately
but something held me back.  "Go ahead," he said, clutching it himself and
extending it.

Tentatively, I extended my hand and touched the end of it.

"Wrap your hand around it," he said.

Cautiously, I grabbed the shaft just back of the head and clutched it
lightly.

"Here," he said, "Let's see if you can do it right.  Stand here beside me."
He turned so that I was on his right side and slightly behind him, his warm
buttocks against my waist. The touch was thrilling.

"Give me your hand he said." I extended my right hand and he put it to his
penis. "Grab it there," he said. I encircled the shaft with my
hand. Placing his hand over mine he began to move it up and down. I could
feel the skin slide back and forth. Could feel the large knob under the
skin with each upward stroke. I noted that despite his casual, teacher's
attitude Andy was breathing hard. My own heart was racing with excitement.

"O.K.," Andy said after a few moments."Let's see how you do it."

Reluctantly, I released his penis. This time he stood to my right and for
the first time placed his hand around my penis. The touch was exquisite. He
stroked my shaft as I had stroked his.

"How does that feel," he asked after a few moments. I couldn't trust myself
to speak. I could feel his erect penis rubbing against my buttock as he
slowly stroked me. Instinctively, I pressed harder against him. He seemed
to accept this and, in fact, began to make slow, thrusting motions against
me.

I felt the feeling begin to boil in my gut from his stroking but, sensing
this, he withdrew his hand from my penis. I almost cried out in
disappointment.

"You feel fine," he whispered in my ear. He ran his hands from my thighs up
to my chest, caressing me. He was standing directly behind me and his penis
was rubbing up and down along my spine just over my crack. I leaned back,
hard against him and he sighed in pleasure. I desperately wanted him to
take my penis again and rub it but I couldn't bring myself to ask.

"Come here," he said coarsely, stepping back and looking at me for a second
before turning to the nearby bale where he had thrown his clothes. Sitting
on his jeans he pulled me towards him.

I stood in front of him, my aching penis jutting out. He smiled up at me,
then reached over to stroke it gently. Suddenly, he bent his head and took
me in his mouth. The sensation was dizzying. I groaned out loud. I could
feel his tongue flick softly over the end. Could feel his lips tighten
about the shaft and draw me in and out. His hands cupped my cheeks and he
began pulling and then relaxing, pulling and relaxing. I took the hint and
began to thrust slowly in and out of his mouth. I was in heaven.

Again, as I was building to a climax, he stopped. I thrust several times
into the empty air but he seemed not to notice my frustration.

"Lay down here," he said in a strange tight voice, indicating the bale he
was sitting on. Willingly, I lay on the bale on my back expecting him to
finish what he was doing in that position. Instead he lay down beside me. I
could feel his large penis rub against me as he stroked my back. He ran his
fingers along my spine and over my buttocks. His fingers probed between my
legs from the back and he spread my cheeks. I could feel his gentle touch
at my anus.

Taking my hand he placed it between his own legs. I fondled his testicles
and then grabbed his penis, He sighed contentedly, again thrusting lightly
into my hands and against me. I tried to thrust too but in that position
met little but air.

Sensing my frustration he placed his penis between my legs and rolled onto
his back, pulling me on top of him. I could feel his hardness between my
thighs and up between my cheeks. In that position my own penis was pressed
hard against his belly and I began to squirm and rub.

Leaning to the side, Andy spit in his hand.  Reaching around he smeared his
spittle over the head of his penis and between my legs. With this
lubrication his penis slid smoothly between my thighs. I gripped him as
tightly as I could. With his moist hand he continued to caress himself and
to hold his penis down so that it was caught between my two cheeks and his
hand. Gently his fingers probed at my anus and he slowly inserted his
finger and withdrew it. This startled me but, as with everything else he
was doing, it sent shivers down my spine.

I was thrusting hungrily against Andy's hard belly and again started
towards a climax when he again released me and pushed me over on my side. I
almost cried out in frustration but he quickly spun around so that his head
was once more against my groin and he again took me in his mouth. I pushed
hungrily into the moist opening he offered.

In the position we were in his own penis was hard against my face. His slow
thrusting motions left no doubt as to what he wanted me to do. I took him
in my hands. His penis was still slightly damp from his saliva. Again I
stroked him, using both hands. The sight of the large, red head inches from
my face and the musky smell of him left me dizzy. Instinctively, I extended
my tongue and tentatively caressed him with it. He thrust again at me, the
head touching my lips. Knowing his desire, I opened my mouth and took the
head in.

My action sent a shudder through him but, surprisingly, he ceased his
thrusting. I wanted to take the entire shaft in my mouth but there was no
way I could accommodate it. Instead, I stroked softly with my hands while
my lips and tongue worked hungrily at the knob and I tried to lubricate the
shaft.

As for myself, my hips kept smashing greedily against his face as I tried
to drive my penis as far into his mouth as possible. His face was buried
against my groin, his hands clutched my buttocks and crushed me to him. I
was aware, only vaguely, that he had again inserted a wet finger in my
anus.

When Andy once more released me and pushed me away I tried to hang on. I
pushed my groin towards his face hungrily but he refused to accept
me. Instead, he sat up with a small smile at my frustration.

"You have to learn to take things easy when you do this," he said
softly. He reached over and touched my aching, wet cock lightly with his
fingers.

"Suck it," I pleaded. I could never have believed that I would ever want
anything as much as I wanted him to do that.

"Try this," he said, and surprisingly, lay on his stomach over his
clothes. In that position his beautiful penis was hidden from my view. I
was perplexed. What did he want me to try. "Lay on me," he said, sensing my
confusion.

Willingly, I stretched out along his back, my face against the long hair at
his neck. I could feel his strong back against my belly; his buttocks
pressed against my groin. I rubbed my penis against him.

"Spit on it," he said. I quickly obliged him, smearing spittle in my penis
and over his butt. Again I lay prone along his body. My penis slid smoothly
over his wet flesh and I shuddered again. I realized that he was arching
his back to match my thrusts and suddenly understood that he was trying to
bring my penis into contact with his anus. Once I realized this I
deliberately probed at the opening with my hard cock.

Tentatively at first, and then more confidently as the area became
lubricated with spit, I pushed at the mark. I could feel my self start to
enter him. With a groan of pleasure he pushed back hard against me and I
was completely inside.

For a few seconds I lay perfectly still, amazed by this new wonder. I could
feel the muscles of his anus squeezing and pulling at me. In a few seconds
I was driving myself at him furiously. I knew he would not deny me this
time and I was right. With less than a dozen strokes a feeling rose from my
groin that made me think of boiling lava. The sensation was
indescribable. How pale my earlier manipulations had been by comparison. I
could not move as wave after wave of pleasure engulfed me. While I remained
frozen he continued to move slowly, his anal muscles gripping me tightly,
stoking me.

After what seemed an interminable time, my senses began to return to
normal. I could feel myself soften in him but he continued to caress me
with his internal muscles. I felt strangely comforted and held him tightly,
putting small, wet kisses on the back of his neck.

"Are you done," he finally whispered, gently.

"Unh hunh," I mumbled sleepily. I felt like I could lay right there on his
back and sleep for a week. Reluctantly, I pushed myself off him. My penis,
now limp, pulled out of him softly.

Sitting up, he turned to face me. Reaching out he caressed my now very
shrunken penis. "How did that feel," he asked, smiling.

"O.K.," I said suddenly and strangely embarrassed now that my passion was
spent. He laughed at this. Standing in front of me I could see his own
penis was still as engorged as ever. He pulled me gently towards him and I
could feel its hard head pressed against my belly.

"I'm glad it felt good," he said, gently stroking my back. His actions
pushed way my embarrassment. I knew he was still unsatisfied. I started to
drop to my knees to put my mouth to him.

"No," he said, holding me up. Turning me gently he placed his penis against
my back, rubbing me with it. I was instantly frightened that he would try
to do to me what I had just been doing to him. I knew that while he had
easily taken me there was no way that I could accommodate his much larger
instrument. I was about to protest when he spit on his hand, wetting his
penis with it. He stroked it a few times with his hand then sat again on
the bale. Pulling me towards him again he pulled me down in his lap. I held
my breath when he hitched me up but instead of trying to enter me he slid
his penis between my legs. I was a fascinating site, seeing that hardened,
red tool thrusting up from between my legs. It was easy to imagine that it
was mine.

Reaching around, Andy again lathered the area with spit. My own penis was
in tight contact with his own which he was once more thrusting gently
against me.

Surprisingly, I found myself once more getting hard and excited. Feeling me
harden, Andy caressed me along with his own knob and shaft. With a sigh, he
lay flat on his back, pulling me down on top of him. I spit on my own hands
and placed them at the point where we joined.

Looking down I could see the head of his shaft erupt from between my legs
with each of his upward thrusts and my wet fingers caressed it each time it
revealed itself. Andy's breath became heavy and spastic. His thrusting
became accelerated and slightly uncoordinated. I gripped him as tightly as
I could with both my hands and thighs. With a final shudder Andy froze and
uttered a low groan. His red knob, tight in my grasp, spurted his thick
white fluid high onto my chest. Again and again the shudders and white
eruptions came, splashing against my chest and belly. I continued to
squeeze and caress him with my slippery hands. Eventually the eruptions
diminished and then ceased. I could feel him begin to shrink in my
grasp. Sadly, I watched his hardness go. The shaft became rubbery and then
soft. My caresses did nothing to revive it.

"Oh, my God," Andy breathed into my ear as he softly ran his fingers
through my hair. His breathing gradually became easier. " We had better get
dressed," he said eventually, giving me one final squeeze. "Your folks
should be back from town any time now."

The thought of my father standing over us and seeing the picture we were
presenting was instantly sobering. I arose from my warm rest on Andy and
watched the thick fluids on my belly and chest begin to dribble down under
the pull of gravity. I didn't know what to do about it.

"Here," Andy said pulling up some loose hay and beginning to wipe me
off. He seemed amazed at the amount of damage he had done that way. At this
point he laughed. I looked at his face and saw that he was looking at my
groin. I looked down to see myself surprisingly hard and erect once
more. Andy reached out and touched it gently.

"We can't do much about that right now," he said softly, "but leave your
door open tonight if you still feel that way when you go to bed." I knew
then that the rest of my Summer was going to be very interesting.