Date: Sat, 13 Jun 2020 20:36:52 +0000 (UTC)
From: Danny Smith <danny26149@yahoo.com>
Subject: Traveling Salesman and the Farmer's Son Part one

The Traveling Salesman and the Farmer's Son

By Danny Smith


This story is fiction. It's a sequel to my earlier story "Full Service at
Dad's Motel." This isn't exactly a continuation of that story, but it
involves some of the same characters. It's meant to stand alone, so you
don't need to read the other story first, but as with all sequels, if you
read the first one, this story will make much more sense. And I hope be
more enjoyable!

Part One

My stint in the military had been a good one, but I was out now starting a
new career.

When I was working at my dad's motel in Biloxi, my chores involved keeping
rooms clean, stocking mini-bars, handling check-in duties...and servicing
men. Most of the clientele were stationed at Keesler AFB, just a couple of
miles down the road from us. We functioned as overflow when on-base housing
wasn't immediately available.

With most of the guys I serviced it was "one and done." Others became
more-or-less regulars; even after they checked out, they would still pop in
at the front desk from time to time, and if I wasn't too busy would ask me
to blow them. Occasionally they wanted a quick fuck. Both were just fine
with me!

But a couple of them became really close to me, and I still consider them
lifelong friends. One was Col. Roger Baker (Anglicized from the original
Rasheem Bashir when his parents immigrated to the U.S.) and another was
Capt. Steve Beiser. Steve was a fighter pilot who was the first man I ever
sucked. What a stud.

Col. Baker was also wonderful. He was a great person: strong but gentle,
erotic, thoughtful. Sex with him was sometimes exciting, sometimes
dreamlike, intense, romantic...just incredible. But best of all was when he
shared with me the philosophy of his ancestral tribe back in the old
country. It was a deep-seated part of their belief system that fathers must
inseminate their young sons many times before the boy could properly grow
into a man.

The sons of course already had their father's DNA, what his tribe called
the father's "essence." But to ensure that they carried a sufficient amount
of the father's essence to pass on to their own sons, they needed to either
ingest the father's sperm orally or have it injected into them anally --
preferably both.

That meant that all the males in that tribe, whether they were straight or
gay, grew up as expert cocksuckers, and also as men who could take it up
the ass easily. These are great talents to have as I have learned
throughout my life. Best of all, Col. Baker convinced my Dad that this
philosophy was a valid one, and that it would help his chances of having a
male grandchild whenever I got married.

When I told Steve and Rasheed that I'd like to join the Air Force just like
they had, they both said pretty much the same thing. They were encouraging
and discouraging at the same time. I'll paraphrase but the gist of it was,
"look if you want to join the military to serve your county, that's a great
idea and a great thing to do. But if you want to join just so you can be
around a lot of hot men, that's not a good idea. And it's not that way."

Gays can certainly join the military and serve openly, but the idea that
there could be sexual orgies in the barracks (like the one in my motel room
that night) was just wrong. It wasn't going to happen like that, and if it
did I risked getting kicked out with a less-than-honorable discharge.

So I joined, and I did it for the right reasons. Sure, I had a few sexual
adventures, but not that many, and they were all very discreet. And the Air
Force is where I met my wife, which has been truly wonderful. Our son Chuck
(named after my dad) is the best thing that ever happened to me.

But now my hitch was up, I was a civilian again, and settling into a new
job. I was a salesman for big farmer's supply company. My territory covered
a large part of the state and I had to make periodic sales trips to visit
with some of our larger farmers personally. It was a good living and I
enjoyed my work, but never more than when I happened to meet up again with
one of my old Air Force buddies.

This was one of those trips. Driving down the road to Greg's house I found
myself reminiscing about the fun we had together in the service. Going out
for drinks, getting together with our wives, and...having sex. Greg was a
truly handsome guy, muscular, with bright red hair, who was perpetually
horny and loved to let everyone know it. After a few drinks he'd start
making eyes at the waitresses, or even the waiters. The first time he and I
did it together had come after an evening like that.

As it neared closing time in the bar we were both a little tipsy. No, I was
tipsy, Greg was three sheets to the wind drunk. He kept talking about how
horny he was and how he needed "relief" so bad that he would "do it with
anyone in the bar, man, woman, or dog." I kept trying to get him to pipe
down so we wouldn't get thrown out but he kept going on about getting his
rocks off and who was going to do it for him.

Finally, to keep him quiet and keep both of us out of trouble, I said "Look
Greg, if I have to I'll blow you myself, just shut up about it!"

That didn't sober him up, of course, but it did make the room stop spinning
for him long enough to look me in the eyes and say "You're serious?"

"Hey man I'll do whatever I have to. What's a buddy for?"

Greg was ready for it, but not ready to get in his car. "I gotta take a
piss first."

"Okay, I'll come with you to make sure you don't fall in."

A few of the patrons watched us both head for the men's room, but it didn't
raise any eyebrows. I was just helping my friend, who they probably figured
was going to be sick. I smiled and thought to myself, "no he's going to get
blown."

We made it to men's room, Greg a little unsteady on his feet. I made sure
the door was locked and braced him up against the wall. I squatted down and
started fumbling with his belt and zipper. As I pulled down his shorts that
old heart-pumping, mind-racing feeling came back to me, just like the very
first time I ever did it.

His flaccid cock was beautiful -- long, soft, meaty, thick, and surrounded
by a thick bush of his bright fire bush. I was in love with his cock and
gratefully opened my mouth to begin what I am now so good at. But after a
few preliminaries, and just as he started to become erect, he said "wait, I
gotta piss first."

I moved slightly out of his way (I was between him and the toilet), but
didn't get up from my stance. I love to watch a guy piss, especially if
he's got a big one, and Greg definitely qualified for that. I stared
fascinated at the warm yellow stream just inches from my face. I love
drinking piss but a lot of guys don't go for it. I didn't know how he would
react, but I figured this would be my only chance so I might was well go
for it. Besides he was so drunk he likely wouldn't remember, and I could
just deny it happened.

I grabbed his dick and pointed it toward me, putting the head directly into
my mouth. Ahh, the sensation of drinking warm piss right from the tap is
one I've never gotten tired of. He still had quite a bladderful, and it
tasted faintly of beer, but that suits me fine. He probably pissed another
minute or so and I was there to chug every delicious drop.

When I looked up at his face -- without taking his cock out of my mouth, of
course -- he wasn't even looking down and not sure he even knew what had
just happened. His eyes were closed, he was swaying slightly, and he just
had that "oh what a relief" look that guys get when they're taking a leak.

"All done?" I asked. Without waiting for a response I braced him up against
the wall again (didn't want him toppling over in mid-blowjob) and started
to work in earnest. He was just as horny as he'd been saying he was and his
cock was almost instantly fully erect. I didn't want to take too much time
in the men's room and risk someone banging on the door. I had planned to
say something like "Later. My friend is a little sick," but I never had to.

Working as quickly and expertly as I could, I began jacking him and sucking
him off at the same time. No time for finesse, or stretching things
out. Instead I need him to get his rocks off in my mouth as quickly as I
could and get us both out of there. And it didn't take long. After just a
moment or two he did without thinking what I love guys to do to me, and
that's put one hand behind my head and pull me in toward his body. I always
feel both loved and used at the same time when that happens, and it's an
amazing feeling, plus it helps me deep throat if I'm working a big one.

Within seconds he was there. No real warning (not that I needed one) other
than a couple of muffled grunts and groans. I think part of him realized we
needed to keep the noise down. Then my mouth was flooded as it had been so
many times before by warm man juice. He squirted again and again, with me
swallowing as fast as I could to keep up. Ahh, the taste of a married
stud's baby batter is fantastic.

I lost count after the first five spasms, but they eventually quieted down
and his dick started to soften. I had done my work and gotten my
reward. Job well done and well worth the effort. We both started cleaning
ourselves up getting ready to exit when he said "what did you do with it?"

"With what?"

"My load?"

"Swallowed it."

"You're shitting me! My wife won't do that at all, ever. She spits it out."

"Her loss," I chuckled. "Any time you need the real thing get a man to do
it."

"You bet!" was his laughing response.

That was the first time of many with Greg. He left the service before I did
and moved back to his family farm, which he had inherited. Now I was
driving down the highway heading out to see him...and his son.

Greg was a family man all throughout the service, but he and his wife split
up soon after he got out. He got custody of their son. She had walked out
on him, ran off with another man, and didn't contest it. Just as well. My
wife and I never really liked her that much. We both loved Greg and his
young son, Alec, but just didn't care for her.

I turned down the dirt road that led to his house and admired the
spread. He owned a small farm, maybe a couple of hundred acres. This would
be the first time I'd seen him in a few years and I was looking forward to
it.

When I got there, Greg was sitting on the porch with his chair leaned back
on two legs resting against the house. What a sight for sore eyes! He'd
grown a short beard which suited his face perfectly. In fact it made him
look more masculine than ever. When I got there he immediately jumped up to
hug me. We embraced for a minute and I was surprised that both of us felt
so emotional so quickly.

"Danny it's so fucking good to see you."

"You too, stud, you too! You look better than ever! Country life must
really agree with you."

"Oh it does. This is the life. man." He paused for a second, then added,
"there's just one thing wrong."

"What's that?"

	"Well, you may remember I do get a little horny every now and
then."

"Remember!? How could I forget? Or anyone else on base for that matter."

"Ha, yeah, those were some good times. But no, seriously, we're kind of out
here a long ways from town, and the town's not that big. Sometimes I get so
horny I feel like I could fuck one of the cows, but I don't want to get
charged with cruelty to animals." We both laughed at his little joke, but I
took it as more of an opening. Did he want to pick up where we left off in
the service?

Why not give it a try? "You know Greg, back on base I was always willing to
be there for you. And my company says I should always try to give the
customer good service...so...is there anything I can do for you?" I started
rubbing my crotch just to emphasize the point.

"Oh shit man, that sure sounds good. Let me just ask you straight up, can I
fuck you?"

"Ha, did you think you'd have to ask? I'd love to feel that tool of yours
up my ass. Let's do this thing!"

"You want to come inside?"

"Anywhere you want, but you know I've always had this thing about wanting
to do it in the open air. And you know the stories about a traveling
salesman taking someone out behind the barn. What do you say?"

"Hell man, you always have the best ideas. Let's go!"

And with that he started us walking toward the barn about 50 yards or so
from the house. We walked out behind it to make sure we weren't seen, and I
dropped my pants. He had me turned around and bent over in seconds, with my
ass spread and his tongue deep inside me. "Sweet Jesus, Greg, you sure know
how get what you want."

"That I do Danny boy, that I do." And with that he stood up dropped his own
pants; he gave his meat a few preliminary jacks, then said, "how `bout you
helping me stiffen this baby up."

Of course I knew exactly what he wanted and went down him on him in
flash. "Yeah that's it Dan, get it nice and wet. I want to slide it in
you."

After it was good and hard, which didn't take long, I turned back around
and helped him guide it into my waiting asshole. I hadn't been fucked in a
while but it's like riding a bike, you never forget how. What I had
forgotten though was just how big Greg's piece of meat was. I let out a
couple of yelps at first, but he kept sliding it further in, and as he did
it got better and better.

My ass has accommodated a lot of cocks over the years and I've never not
enjoyed it. This was one of the best, partly because Greg was an expert
fucker, I really felt close to him personally, and I knew how badly he
wanted it.

Soon he was fucking me steady and hard. I was loving it and figured that
with no one else around I could let loose too. I'm normally a pretty verbal
bottom but that's something that has to be stifled in so many cases -- like
when I'm getting fucked in a guy's den downstairs and the guy's wife is in
the bedroom one floor away.

But now there was no holding back so Greg and I both vented our feelings,
loud and proud. Not a lot of words other than "yeah fuck me, fuck me," and
"take it, take that big cock," but lots of moaning and groaning. It was an
intense session that I knew would be coming to an end soon.

I really wish I could have seen Greg's face as he neared his climax and
finally shot. I love to watch a man's face when he's having an orgasm, but
I had to just picture in my mind.

"I'm close man...I'm gonna shoot...unh...unh...here it comes...unh...UNH."
He gave it one last hard thrust and held it while his big cock twitched and
spasmed inside my body. I knew his seed was flooding into me and reveled in
the sensation.

Eventually, slowly but inevitably, his lust subsided, his cock softened,
and he withdrew. I was basking in the afterglow when he surprised me. As I
was standing back up he turned me around, put his arms around me, drew me
close, and kissed me. It was no peck on the cheek either. A long passionate
wet, deep kiss. I had no idea he had that much pent up emotion.

When we broke our embrace I saw that he had tears in his eyes. "God, Danny,
thank you. That was so good. It's been so long. So long."

"Greg I should be thanking you. I needed that and I've never known a man
who could fuck like you do. I'm just happy you enjoyed it."

He came back to earth than and grinned, "Yeah I guess you could say that."
Then, "let's go get a beer and talk about old times."

We headed back to his house and he looked at his watch. "Man I didn't
realize how the time flies. It's almost time for my son to come home. He
has a part-time job down at the Tastee Freeze in town."

"Can't wait to see him again. Is someone dropping him off?"

"No, he's driving our pickup."

"What! Greg he can't be more than 11 or 12."

"Dan, the time got away from you. He's 16 and has a license."

We talked for quite some time, drinking beers and reminiscing. We shared
stories about people we'd served with, why we got into the military, and
life. He said he really looked forward to having grandkids someday. His son
Alec had lots of girlfriends so he assumed he'd eventually get his wish. He
said he'd be happy with anything, boy or girl, but he really hoped for a
boy to carry on the family name.

	I decided to tell me about me and Dad. "Did I ever tell about
working at my Dad's motel?"

	"Yeah, you said it was a good way to learn work ethics and
stuff. And that's why you joined up wasn't it, from talking to a lot of
flyboys from the base"

	"Let me tell you about some advice I got about kids and grandsons
and the importance of the family name. You remember me mentioning
Col. Baker?"

	"Roger Baker? Yeah, good guy."

	"Yeah. Actually his parents changed his name to fit in. His real
name is Rasheed Bakir...."


To be continued