Date: Wed, 25 Sep 2013 21:36:34 -0700
From: norcalcowboy89@gmail.com
Subject: Farm Friends with Benefits #2

Farm Friends With Benefits #2

DISCLAIMER: This is purely a work of fiction. Although I wish it were to
happen to me, none of this has taken place in my life. Any references to
people and places are strictly coincidental and are by no means to be taken
as anything other than that.

The content of this story may refer to sexual acts that are homosexual in
nature. If it is illegal for you to read such things, please do not
continue reading.

Because of some awesome feedback from quite a few people, I want to add in
a small section here about why I have left certain details out of these
stories. Certain things (the narrator's and character's sexual history, a
super detailed description of each person in the story, yadda yadda) I like
to leave to my reader's imaginations. Too often I'm turned off of reading
some stories because they're so specific and it leaves nothing to the
imagination. Not everyone is going to like everything I write, and I
understand that. I just simply want people to use their noggins and fill in
their own wild, sexy blanks.

Additionally, I'm a guy who prefers a cut cock, so I apologize for not
mentioning that originally, but you can just assume that all these guys are
cut. Hell if you want to add your own mental images of flaps of foreskin in
between the lines of whatever I write, go right ahead. This is America,
after all. The only uncut guy I had an encounter with was only ok with a
mutual Handy, so my experience in that area is slim. Cut guys deserve some
love too, ya know.

All that being said, I hope that you enjoy the story. Any feedback is
appreciated, although derogatory comments will be ignored because screw
you. Please send feedback to norcalcowboy89@gmail.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next couple days at work were hard on my emotional - and sexual -
stamina. I worked with Mason those two days, and even though Carlos told me
he was gay, the conspiracy theorist inside me kept nagging that maybe the
whole thing was some elaborate ruse. But FUCK was he sexy.

He hadn't taken off his shirt those two days, which made me a little
disappointed, but that let my imagination run wild. His thick muscles
bulged under his always-a-little-too-tight tee shirts. He clearly had a
well-defined six pack and an amazing chest, one with a deep valley between
his pecs. His ass was even more bubbly than Carlos's, which made it all the
harder for me to keep concentrated, since Carlos told me that THAT ass
liked to take cock deep inside it.

I fantasized for a few seconds just staring at him, a little too long,
because after a little bit I heard him give off a small cough.

"Hey, uh, earth to Austin. My eyes are up here, sport."

Shaken awake and caught red-handed, I struggled to come up with an excuse,
and landed on: "ah, sorry man, I was spacing out. Didn't get much sleep
last night." The whole thing was a lie. I had gotten amazing sleep last
night.

"Whatever dude, hand me that bag of sprinkler heads." He pointed over to
the bag sitting next to my backpack.

"Yeah, here you go," I fumbled, eventually handing him the bag. "I'm gonna
go take a breather, be right back."

With a grunt, Mason went back to his work, and I walked off toward my
truck. I wanted to squeeze one out right then and there, but we were closer
to town and I didn't want to risk anyone actually catching me. I didn't
care so much about Mason - I had a couple straight guy excuses if that
happened, still dancing around him because of his butch attitude that
didn't even let off the slightest hint that he was gay.

I got to my truck and pulled a lemonade out of the cooler. Sitting down on
the tailgate, I popped the top and guzzled it down. I had no idea how I was
going to go back to work with Mason without letting off that I had the hots
for him - or more honestly - his ass. I worked up an excuse to leave early
- I forgot that I was supposed to take my dog into the vets before the
weekend for his shots. In reality, I DID forget to do that, but remembered
to take care of it at the beginning of the week. Armed with a foolproof
excuse, I threw the can in the bed of my truck, grabbed my backpack, and
walked back to where Mason and I were working.

He was walking towards me with everything gathered up. "Don called me. He's
coming by here with some stuff to take to the wayside barn. He wants us to
go over there before we take off for the day."

Don was my uncle, and we were often put in charge of doing random errands
that he couldn't trust anyone else with. We were reliable and had more than
just money at stake in the farm. I had family and Mason had life-long
friends. We made our way back to the trucks, and I pulled out two more
lemonades from the cooler and tossed one to Mason.

Mason took a long swig then turned to me. "Hey Ben told me to ask if you
were free tonight. We're going to head over to Buck's Saloon and shoot some
pool." Buck's Saloon was one of the only local hangouts in the area. It had
a few pool tables, a bar that was friendly to responsibly underaged college
kids, and a small stage where local bands came and played once in a while -
the kind of bands that you had to get pretty drunk to enjoy - something
that Buck's Saloon definitely profited from.

"Sure, I just gotta let Billy out of the house first." Billy was my dog's
name.

"Right on. Maybe I'll follow you over there when we're done at Wayside and
I'll catch a ride with you."

"Sure thing, man." I was a bit nervous about being so close to Mason, but I
told myself that I better get over it soon or my life was gonna be hell.

We talked about a few things - Mason's college, our dogs, and our trucks.
He had an 84 Chevy that he and his dad had worked on. They painted it a
deep blue and had white stripes running from the front to rear fenders.
Mine was a bit older, a 78 dodge, but I didn't really have any work done on
it. I had fixed all of the rust spots, but other than that it was the same
dull brown that it had come with. I had bought it when I was 14, driving my
brothers to and from school. The cops in Kansas didn't seem to mind, our
town was small enough that everyone knew who was responsible and who
wasn't. Apparently that wouldn't have flown in California.

Don pulled up a few seconds later, a cloud of dust trailing behind him. We
loaded a few boxes of herbicide in the back of my pickup and some machined
tractor parts in the back of Mason's truck.

"Alright boys, just stick the boxes in the chemical shed and the parts in
the main garage. I'll organize them later. You still have the key, right
Austin?" Uncle Don looked at me for an answer.

"Yessir," I replied.

"Alright. Well get going, the sooner you're there the sooner you're done."
And with that, Uncle Don climbed back in his pickup and drove away.

"Lead the way, chosen one," Mason playfully jeered. I was used to those
comments since I was related to the owners. We were all on the same level,
but my uncle used me being kin to dump extra work on me without feeling too
bad. Living with them lent us to talking about different stuff on the farm
too, which meant extra jobs that nobody else really knew about, in turn
leading to the assumption that I got "special work" that was somehow
easier. Most of the time it wasn't.

"Keep up, slave," I responded similarly. Slave. Now THAT sounded like fun.
Yeah, tie Mason up buck naked and make him beg for me to fuck his ass with
my throbbing-

"Dude, you gonna go or not?" I snapped back to reality and found myself
staring off into space, this time thankfully not at Mason.

"Yeah, sure."

We drove a few miles up the road until we hit a spot with a small road
blocked off by a locked white iron gate. I got out, unlocked the gate,
pulled my truck through, and waited for Mason to get through before I
closed and locked it again. Another couple miles up a small windy dirt road
got us to the Wayside shop complex. During the harvest season this place
was the hub of activity - but since it was the end of October it was
deserted. It wouldn't open up again for a few more months, when we started
to get things ready for the next year's harvest.

It was a good sized complex: a main shop (the garage) where the machinists
and mechanics worked, two smaller sheds that housed chemicals, one shop
that was for tractor and other machine parts, a tire shop, and a small
house that the supervisor lived in while the complex was operating.

I stopped my truck to open one more gate to the fence that surrounded the
complex and we both headed for our respective garages: I had the chemical
boxes and Mason had that parts for the garage. After unloading my truck, I
headed over to the garage, not realizing that Mason was locked out. He had
an impatient face on.

"Took you long enough" he gave me a look that I knew was supposed to be a
scowl, but Mason was too good of a guy to really mean anything like that.

"Shut up and back your truck up to the doors." I walked past him, opened
the lock, and rolled the doors open enough for his truck to fit. He backed
his truck into the garage bay and we unloaded the parts, piling everything
by a workbench.

"You think that they'll need help here next year?" Mason asked me as we
finished the last of the boxes.

"Probably. But that's right in the middle of your Spring term isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I'm thinking of taking a couple semesters off, trying to decide
what I want to do with my life." Mason sat down on a stack of pallets.

"You don't want to do physical therapy anymore?" I was shocked. He was
going all out in his program. I thought he was excited about sports
medicine to no end.

"I'm starting to burn out. Athletes are kind of...well...hot heads. It was
cool in junior high and high school, but it's starting to get old."

"So what are you thinking?"

"Well I really like working here. Maybe Ag Science? A lot of my classes
transfer over since I haven't really started on too many of the major
classes. But I want to give it a whirl to make sure I absolutely want to
get into this field before I make a huge decision." He kicked at an old
bolt on the ground.

"Good call, man. I can ask my uncle if you want to."

"That'd be cool. This is only about 2 hours away from to coast - that would
be sick for the weekends if I could head there after work and bum it on the
beach for a couple days." His eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Yeah it would! There's even that cottage for the manager. I know we're
looking for one, maybe I could put in a good word for ya." I pointed to the
small house at one corner of the yard back behind some trees.

"Seriously? Can I go see what it looks like?"

"Yeah I have a key for it somewhere in my truck. Pull your truck out of the
garage, I'll lock it up and we can head over there.

After all the lights were off and the doors were all locked back up, I
grabbed the handful of key-rings and we headed over to the cottage.

It was a really neat little place. It was a nod to the old California West,
a weathered log cabin look behind a white picket fence. Roses, lilacs, and
daisies boarded the home and a red brick pathway led straight up to the
front door. An old screen door was barely hanging on to rusted hinges that
squeaked when opened. Out back a small creek ran through the yard, bordered
by a small patio that held a couple chairs and a charcoal barbecue.

I fumbled around with the lock for a couple minutes, trying every key until
finally the very last one worked. We stepped inside and it was much the
same feel as the outside. Everything was simple. Wood floors continued
through the whole place, and whitewashed, covered halfway up with pink and
blue flowered wallpaper tied everything together in a homey settler-style
feel. A couple pictures of our orchards in full spring bloom were on the
walls of the living area. A small couch with a side table and antique lamp
were all that sat by the small red brick fireplace. The kitchen had a rough
wooden table with a couple chairs, along with a small ice-box style fridge,
a gas stove, pantry, and a couple small counters, one with a deep basin
porcelain sink. The bathroom had the only hint of modernization, with a
beautiful walk-in shower and up-to-date plumbing fixtures. The master
bedroom had a simple queen sized bed with small nightstands on both sides
and two decent sized closets on either side of the room, a washroom
attached to the far side. The second bedroom was about the same size, the
same setup as the master bedroom, but without the washroom attached.

"I used to love coming up here when I was a kid" I said, walking back into
the kitchen. "When we would come over here from Kansas, my uncle and aunt
would bring us up here for a couple days to go camping. That was when I was
small enough to call the creek out back a "river" and my brothers and I
would make paper boats to race downstream."

"All right Nancy Nostalgia, thats a pretty cute little story." Mason was
looking back into the kitchen.

"I bet you have a couple stories of your own, dick head." I went over and
sat down on the couch in the living area.

"Not cute sappy ones like those. Hunting, fishing, sports, the rodeo,
riding horses. You know - man stuff."

I laughed. "Alright, John Wayne."

He waved a hand at me, dismissing my remark. "This would be a totally
awesome place to live in. I saw a couple ponds on the way up here too -
could make for a couple lazy Sundays of fishing and drinking."

"Sure would. But don't get your hopes up, I don't know if my uncle has
anyone already in mind."

Mason walked over to the fireplace and put his leg up on the mantle. I
didn't really get why guys did that, but what I do know is that it gave me
a really good view of his crotch. He had tight wrangler jeans on. I had
already spent a good portion of the day staring at his ass while we were
working and then unloading the boxes. But this was a whole different ball
game. Literally. He was staring out the window, probably at the pond about
a quarter mile down the hill.

Man was this guy gorgeous. He had a tight grey t shirt on that hugged all
of his muscles and barely covered the waistline of his wranglers, which
gave way to the stunning view of his ass as well as his huge johnson. I
wasn't sure if he was hard or not, but I really didn't care. It was a
beautiful site.

I was just about to look out the window to make it look like I wasn't
checking him out when Mason turned and caught me. I instinctively turned my
head away, which further sealed my guilt.

"Like the view, there buddy?"

I was always ready with a solid defense. "Well when a guy puts his crotch 5
feet away from my face, right in my line of vision while I'm spacing out,
its hard not to make it look weird."

"While I would believe that coming from someone else, I just can't believe
it from you, Austin." Mason looked at my with a knowing smile.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you sucking Carlos's cock in the middle of a walnut
orchard last week."

He got me. I remembered Carlos telling me that Mason (of all guys) enjoyed
getting fucked. I still didn't know if this was true, probably because it
was hard for me to believe such a manly guy like Mason would let a guy get
anywhere near his asshole. He was built strong. He obviously works out
constantly. He plays football for his college. His short blonde hair and
deep blue eyes are outlined by a muscular jawline. Even though he's from
California, he has a deep country drawl when he talks. Nothing about this
man says "I want to take a cock up my ass" and that's why I had always been
defensive around him.

I didn't really know what to say. I just sat there, mouth open, searching
for something to form in my mind, but nothing did. All I managed to get out
was "uhhhh...."

"Dude, don't flip out, I'm not going to say anything." Mason took my
silence as absolute fear that people would find out. I wasn't really
afraid, but I didn't really want my family to find out either. They were
cool with me being gay, but that still didn't cover sucking co-worker's
dicks in the middle of their fields while I was supposed to be working.

Apparently I eased up a bit, but my mind was still reeling as to how to
come back without sounding like an idiot. I'm glad that my mouth moves much
slower than my brain, but silence is usually the best policy in situations
like these. However, if you sit perfectly still with the same expression on
your face long enough it looks like you're having a stroke. So I decided
that I better say something fast.

"Well, Mason, I guess you caught me."

He sat down on the couch next to me. I have no idea why, but I leaned away
from him, probably still leery of offending him somehow.

"Dude, I'm not going to rape you, chill out." Mason put a hand on my
shoulder. Normally when you have two guys sitting on a couch after
discovering each other is gay, and one of them puts his hand on the other
one, that says "take off your clothes now." But with Mason his touch was
different. It was careful but firm, and I got a feeling of reassurance from
him that he really didn't want to scare me.

"I know, I just react out of instinct to stuff sometimes." I let my
shoulders fall down, realizing that if they got any higher I would be
halfway to looking like a vampire from a 1950s cartoon.

"I just gotta know," Mason asked, "how was it?"

"What??"

"How was it, you know, sucking him off out in the middle of the field?"

I was confused. Carlos told me about Mason like they had been together
before. But the way that Mason just asked me that question made it sound
like they still hadn't hooked up. Oh well, I wasn't one for drama. I'll
just let this play out and see where it went. "Hot. In both uses of the
word." I gave him a small grin.

"Man, I would love to do that."

Deciding I wanted to have a little fun, I casually said "What, you haven't
sucked a guy off in the middle of a walnut field before?"

"No, dude. But it sounds like you're no stranger to it."

"Maybe, maybe not." Carlos was the only one I had ever done that with, but
I enjoyed letting people use their imaginations. Besides, who's to say what
went on when I was living back in Kansas? I could drum up a bunch of
stories and make it sound like I was some sort of sex god.

"How did it happen?" He was really interested in either stories about sex
or Carlos. The way that Carlos drove me crazy before I found out he was
gay, I assumed it was the latter. There was something about that guy that
was intoxicating.

"Well we were working and he told me he had to leave early. He had me hard
almost all day just by looking at him, so when I saw he turned the corner
to go home, I knew that I had to jack off or I wasn't going to be able to
concentrate on anything else the rest of the day. I had my cock out and was
working away when I felt him grab me from behind. He still had his shirt
off and everything, obviously ready to get it on. And without giving you a
play by play, we ended up sucking each other off."

Mason clearly clung to every word I said. "Wow dude, I don't know if I
would have the balls to do it out in the open like that."

I laughed and said, "if you're horny enough, none of that matters. He had
been driving me crazy for weeks. Plus it was all the way at Northside."
Northside was a field of walnuts in the middle of absolutely nowhere. It
looked strange because there was desert all over the place and then this
random 140 acres of walnuts, 20 minutes from the main road. The only other
traffic that would possibly be at the field were hunters during dove
season, and they didn't even go out there much at all.

"Yeah, that makes sense. Still - damn - what a fuckin' hot thing to have
happen to you."

"Seriously. Probably one of the best blow-jobs ever...so far" I said that
both to test the water to see if Mason was interested and to be absolutely
truthful. It WAS one of the hottest times I've ever had.

Mason got up from the couch. I was a little disappointed in myself for not
making a move faster to see if something would happen, but I didn't want to
push him either. Who knows, maybe he had a boyfriend.

"This would sure be a cool place to live" Mason repeated his thought from
earlier.

Maybe he was nervous? Was he waiting for me to make a move? Carlos DID tell
me he liked to get fucked, but was he a dominant bottom? There are so many
different combinations that a guy could be. I wish it were simple like with
straight people - the guy makes the move, the girl says yes or no. Two
simple steps. With gay guys, you have to do an incredibly crazy dance
around the whole subject, even more so with guys who you work with.

Mason looked out the window again, this time his back was to me. I stood up
and decided that I needed to grow a pair and go for it. I stepped behind
him, slightly to the side and put my hand around his shoulder - not in a
creepy awkward way, but like one guy would do to another one of his good
friends.

Mason moved a little, but didn't tense up. "Sure is pretty out here. This
is the kind of California that I wish everyone could experience."

"Sure is, a little piece of paradise, hidden away from the rest of the
world." Lingering on a guys shoulder (anyones from that matter) too long
would start to get awkward, so I patted him a couple times on his shoulder
with my hand, then dropped my arm. I had made my move. I turned away and
headed towards the door.

"Well we better get going," I said. The sun's about to go down and -"

"Austin." Mason interrupted.

"What?" I turned around to face Mason.

"Can I..." He stopped and looked at the ground. He was struggling for
something to come out. "Can I..." He stuttered again.

"Can you kiss me?" The words were out of my mouth before I even knew I said
them. Dammit, I thought I had control over what I thought.

He looked up at me with his deep blue eyes. "Yeah."

I walked the short distance of the living room over to the window and put
my hands on his chest, gazing into his eyes. I moved them around under his
arms to his back and drew him in close to me, but held my head back, never
once losing contact. I held him there for a few more seconds, and then
moved in to his lips.

Holy SHIT they were so soft. Just looking at his face, I wouldn't have
known, he was so strong looking. I gave him one soft on his lips, then
pulled away slightly. I came in for another one, repeating the same thing
only held it longer this time. After backing away for the second time, I
opened my eyes and saw his were still closed. He grinned, exhaled shortly,
and put his head down. Perfect. I loved being romantic, and this was my
chance.

I took my hand and put it on his chin, bringing his head back up to mine.
He opened his eyes and we stared at each other for a long time, then
finally went in for one long, passionate, intense kiss. Our tongues went
wild exploring each other's mouths. At one point I realized that I was so
caught up in everything that I forgot to breathe. This guy literally made
me breathless.

I pulled away and gasped for air. He looked at me with questioning eyes,
and after explaining to him the biological function that he stole away from
me, he smiled and I couldn't help but go in for another long, wet,
passionate kiss.

We were on that couch for a good half hour just making out and feeling each
other's bodies. I was just about to pull him up and make a move for the
bedroom when I heard a truck door close. Mason heard it too, because we
both pushed away from each other.

I bolted up and ran for the kitchen, he stayed in the living room and
grabbed a magazine off of the side table. I started to wash my hands
(because that's the most believable thing to do in a kitchen, right?). It
was like we had rehearsed everything. Nobody would be the wiser.

The door opened and we heard a familiar voice: "What's up, faggots?"

Only one person belonged to that voice, and what he was doing here neither
of us would have any idea why. But just like he surprised me last week in
the middle of a walnut field, Carlos surprised me again when he walked
through the front door. This time, though, he was buck naked and hard as a
rock.