Date: Sat, 02 Oct 2004 22:38:35 +0800 From: James MacMannis Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-02 Author: James MacMannis Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-02 (adult-youth, interracial, rural) Archive; 'Aboriginal Farmboy #2'{James MacMannis}(BB, interr, rural)[] Homosexual, young male sex Adult-youth Interracial Rural setting ABORIGINAL FARMBOY - PART TWO Copyright (c) 2004 by James MacMannis This document may be downloaded for your personal pleasure; however, you may not place the document on a website or reproduce the story for distribution in any media whatsoever without my permission. Please email me at james_macmannis@hotmail.com with constructive comments or criticism. On the way home from dropping Chris off at his place, I stopped in at the local cafe and bought fish and chips for dinner. I fully expected to be up half the night wanking myself silly at the thought of the experience I had just had with Chris, but, by time I returned home and had finished eating, I was comfortably tired so I went straight to bed and slept soundly the whole night. The morning was very still, cold and clear. The sun was not yet up, but there was enough daylight to see a thick frost covered everything, turning the countryside glistening white. I slipped naked from my bed and found a coat to pull on against the chilly morning. After relieving a full bladder, I trudged to the kitchen and put the water on to boil for coffee. That done, I stoked up the fire in the sunroom so it would begin warming the house again. I do not have central heating in my house and depend entirely on the efficiency of the wood fire in the sunroom and another in my dining / lounge room. There is a lot of fallen timber in the bush around my farm, so it is not a hardship to cut wood for the fires and store it each winter. Once the water was ready I made a pot of coffee and sat by the fire in the sunroom to enjoy it and my first cigarette of the day. My thoughts soon returned to the enjoyable experience I had with Chris the previous afternoon. Spontaneously my penis sprung to attention and I was tempted to give myself some much-needed relief. I thought, however, that it would not be long before Chris would be back again and maybe we could find some way of helping each other with that, as well as other chores I had lined up for the day. Dawn was breaking by time I finished my coffee, so I returned to my bedroom to put on some warm clothing in preparation for the day's work. My housekeeping routine was pretty simple as I didn't make much mess in my living habits, so I pulled up my bed to tidy the room and went in to the kitchen to make breakfast. A couple of slices of toast is generally all I bother to have, except sometimes on the weekend when I might cook up bacon and eggs. I was about to wash my dishes when I saw Chris and his young brother come along the veranda. I opened the door to them and they came inside. "This is my little brother, Nick," said Chris as he introduced the boy in a neat school uniform shirt, trousers and jacket to me. The younger brother was barefoot as Chris was, and ice had rimed their toes. "Connie is working at the grain terminal in town during his mid-year break and he starts early. He said he would drop us off at the end of your road on his way past, so I thought it would be a good idea to come early. Nick will be going off to school soon, his school bus goes right past your place, so I hope you don't mind that I brought him over." "Not a problem at all. In fact, I think that is a great idea and you are very welcome here Nick," I said as I ushered the two boys into the sunroom. Chris handed me a carton of eggs. "I notice you don't have any chooks here, so I bought these over if they are of any use to you." I thanked him for the eggs and asked how much the price was. He said that these were a gift and that he would not accept any payment for them. The boys stood together in front of the fire, warming themselves from the kilometre walk up the iced driveway from the road. "Hope we don't make a mess of your floor with our wet feet," Chris asked. I said that even if they did it could be no worse that any mess I might make when I came in to the house. They both agreed a coffee would be a good idea, so I took the eggs to the kitchen and put the coffee pot on again. When it was ready, they were sufficiently warm and sat by the fire with me. I offered Chris my tobacco. "I still have the tobacco you gave me yesterday, James," he said. I told him that was for him to use at home and, while he was working with me, I would provide him with his food and drink as well as his tobacco, so he should put that packet away and use mine. He rolled a cigarette. "Have you had breakfast yet?" I asked the boys. Chris said that they all got up very early each day so they could do any chores that needed more than one pair of hands before the others left for their school or work. They usually ate breakfast a little before dawn, and they had indeed had breakfast that day. It was so remarkable having these two beautiful boys sitting by my fire with me. I couldn't get over how similar they looked, except for those differences due to age variation. Nick had not said much, and I did not know if it was shyness of if he felt he might be unwelcome. I really wanted him to feel at home, so I asked him what year of school he was in and what he was enjoying about his schooling. "Second year high school, Mister James, "he replied. "I like mathematics the most, especially some of the advanced logarithms and algebra stuff we do." We talked a little about how that sort of stuff was useful in the computing industry and in other scientific applications. "Well, tell me, how do you go to high school in bare feet. I thought that all the high schools had a footwear policy these days," I asked. "Oh, I wear shoes a lot of the time when I am at school. I have no choice because they wont let you attend if you don't. My shoes are in my school bag and I put them on just before we go in to class. They come off again during my lunch break and before I get on the bus to come home. I hate having to wear shoes, but that is how it is. Except Fridays, of course, because that is sports day. I don't have to wear shoes on Friday." Nick spoke very efficiently, using his words clearly and precisely. He had a musical voice that had already matured through the puberty change. "I don't play sports, but I do like long distance running. We have a great long distance team at school and I am fairly good at the marathon events. Some of us always run barefoot, and we are usually the winning group." We chatted till it was time for Nick to leave for his school bus. The outside temperature had climbed to just on freezing point as he walked back down the drive to where the bus would collect him. I had suggested to Nick that he get off the bus at the nearest stop to my home after school, because Chris would still be here and it would make it easier for Connie to collect both of them at once. Chris and I watched Nick leave a trail of footprints in the ice as he walked towards the bus stop, then we went back into the warm room. Chris turned and gave me a hug. "Thank you, James, for being so welcoming of me and my family." I didn't really know what to say in reply, so just hugged him back. I could feel Chris's hard penis pressing against me, and my own responded. How could this beautiful boy in such close proximity to me not arouse me? Chris felt my own stiffness and reached his hand down to grasp me through the material of my trousers. We continued hugging as he began to massage my aching tool. Today, Chris must have felt confident to take the matter into his own hands, and very soon he had opened the fly of my trousers and taken out my desperate organ. He continued undressing me, and then took his own clothes off. Lying on the rug near the fireplace, Chris pulled me down on top of him, our rigid penises making their own introductions as they met for the first time. We hugged and kissed deeply as our dicks began the ancient practice of mashing together, as if they had a mind to become one united organ. My own sensory system was in overload, having this beautiful boy engage in primal sex with me in this way. The movement of our thrusting tools picked up a faster tempo. Chris's youth and agility transferred itself to my own much older body, and I found I was as virile as a teenager again. We both were now caught up in a frantic race towards an inevitable explosion, an overpowering need to satisfy and be satisfied at the one time. I could feel my balls tightening as the juices prepared for their release, and I could see in Chris's face that he was also in the imperative stages of his sexual act. "Chris, I am ready to come. Are you going to come too?" I whispered to him. "Yes," he panted, "I can't hold on much longer, but I want us to do it together." I deliberately slowed my pace, and Chris picked up the cue and did likewise. Our thrusting became long and purposeful as our two organs ground together in perfect harmony. Suddenly Chris arched his back, pushing his hips up unto my groin and his penis firmly into my own as his orgasm hit him. My response was equally quick, and I prodded him with the full strength of my tool. The feeling of his live throbbing and thrusting penis as it shot load after load of his sticky semen into my groin was fully matched by mine as I shot into him. We both held each other tightly, him still arched into my groin and I still pushing down into his, until an eternity passed and our orgasm subsided. I collapsed on top of Chris. "Oh, James," Chris wheezed. "I can't understand what is happening with me. I have never known the feelings that I seem to be able to reach when I am with you. I love this thing we are discovering together. I love you, James." I continued to hold him as I rolled him to the side with me. We were now laying side by side, our wet penises still joined, still hard, and still gently thrusting. "I can only say that I felt a kind of love for you the very moment I saw you last week. It is something special for us, and it does not happen often in a lifetime, but somehow we have been brought together to love each other. I feel most honoured to be in this bond with you, Chris." His eyes damp with unspent emotion, Chris held me tightly. Already I could feel his penis strongly thrusting into my now slippery groin, the lubrication of our combined semen making the movement easy. Semen was leaking from the significant load we had discharged just moments ago, and I could feel it collecting under our hips as we lay together on the carpet. To my surprise, I felt my own penis pick up the urgency of Chris's and we began again the tango of love. The feeling was different this time. We both were thrusting at a much slower pace, enjoying the feeling of being together, of the remarkable sensations that emanated from that stiff appendage so full of nerve endings. Chris, freer now that he was lying by my side, plunged sometimes on the left and sometimes on the right of my penis. I enjoyed the feeling he created in my own dick, and in reasonably short time we reached out climax, both shooting our second load of male juice at each other. I was amazed on two counts: firstly that I had been able to reach two orgasms in so short a period of time; secondly that I did not feel in the least drained by the intense experience. My senses were on full overload, every part of me alive and full of renewed energy that seemed to course from the tips of my toes to my admittedly receding hairline. I felt I could run up Mount Everest! Chris looked deeply into my eyes and I could feel the moment when he, too, sensed that something remarkable had happened between us. Not a mere physical act, not a simple animal release, but a binding of the heart, a fusion of the soul, a great and mighty act of love had been forged in the heat of our bodies and tempered with the quench of our joined sperm. We both seemed somehow aware that the wrong word, the wrong gesture, maybe even the wrong thought or breath, could shatter this fragile and beautiful thing that had formed about us. It was as though our hearts stopped beating and our lungs their panting. It was as though the whole world stood still in silent reverence of this occurrence. Slowly, ever so slowly, we began to move our smeared bodies apart. Our lower parts were joined in a sticky mess, Chris's dark erect penis adhered to my lighter deflating one, and it would have seemed somewhat comical for a bystander to watch our clumsiness in trying to regain some order. Without a word, I took Chris by the hand and led him in to my bathroom. I ran the hot water till it was comfortable and gently pulled him in with me. Together we embraced as the water cascaded over our flushed nakedness. I took shampoo and massaged it into Chris's long hair, thrilling at the joy of this simple ablution. Soaping my hands I washed his face, rubbing the skin gently as I traced the outline of his forehead, eyes and nose, the sculpture of his ears and the firmness of his neck. When I had finished, he let the water rinse the soap off and then opened his eyes. His lips found mine and we held on to each other in absolute awe of each other and the glow of love that was tangible between us. Chris washed my hair and face as I had done his, then extended the region of our ablution by washing my arms and chest. He mapped out every muscle and sinew as his long fingers trawled through my covering of chest hairs and began an irresistible journey that would end near my nipples. As a boy, I had somehow aggravated my nipples, causing them to be very sensitive. Living near the beach, I spent many hours on a surfboard, often lying full length on the plastic surface. This somehow caused an irritation, leading to a condition where I have never been able to bear anyone touching me on my breast and nipple region. I feared that I would have to brush Chris's hands away, but somehow he sensed my apprehension. Maybe I flinched, but I don't recall doing so. Instead of touching them with his hands, he softly kissed me on each nipple and returned his hands to my back to embrace me in a tight hug. His still hard penis rested against my thigh. Washing Chris's arms and chest did not present a problem to him. I began at his breast, and felt the hardness of his nipples as I soaped him, trailing the washing process out and down his arms. Taking each hand I washed them, with the hot water tumbling over us, I raised his hands to my mouth and gently sucked his long fingers one by one. I could smell the burnt tobacco on his index and second fingers where he usually held his cigarette. Leaving his hands, I knelt down to wash his feet. At eye level was that glorious penis, standing determinedly out from his body. I leant forward and kissed him on the head of that staff, feeling him twitch at the brief contact. When I knelt I had placed one foot behind me while the other foot was on the shower base, so that I had myself resting on one knee and the other elevated. I lifted Chris's right foot, feeling the toughness in his leathery sole, and placed it on my knee. His foot was so beautifully proportioned, broad and long. I washed his foot carefully, revelling in the feel of the durable skin and smooth heels. Changing feet, I repeated the process then worked my way up his legs till I reached that remarkable zenith of his body. Still ignoring his rampant tool, I soaped up again and reached behind him to wash the globes of his buttocks and into the deep crevasse leading to his anal canal. By this time his penis was directly in front of my face and I could not ignore it any longer. My tongue found the opening of his foreskin and I pressed it inside so that I could move about between his foreskin and the glans. Chris writhed uncontrollably as I tongued the frenulum, sending myriads of sensory signals to his brain and throughout his body. Chris had placed his hands on my shoulders and now was gently pulling me towards him as his sexual need grew once again. I could taste the watery pre-cum on my tongue and knew it would not be long before Chris would give me of his manly nectar. I craved to taste it and began working his tool, clasping it with my lips as I began to suck him deeply into my mouth. In truth I wanted him to go deeper into my throat, but it had been many years since the last time I enjoyed the entry of a lovers penis, so I knew I would have to practice the art of deep-throating again before I could give Chris, and myself, that pleasure. Urgently, Chris said, "James, I am going to come again very soon. Maybe I had better not stay in your mouth." I wanted him so much, to feel the pulsing of his spurting penis on my tongue, to drink his juices into my own body. Instead of answering him, I simply kept my hands where they had been, on his bottom, and gently pulled him tighter into my mouth. I had been feeling the contractions of his muscles as the effects of my ministrations took over his organ, and now, with me clasping him more fully, the clenching of his buttocks took on a new strength. Chris did not force himself into me at all, allowing me to do the work and to adjust to his bulk. I enjoyed every second of the task before me, revelling in the strength of this man, desiring every moment of his presence, loving his very being with every part of me. Slowly I was able to adapt to more of the length of Chris's penis until I had about three quarters of him inside me. The head was nudging my throat and, in one neat movement, I pulled him out far enough to ease the foreskin back from his head with my lips, then I pulled him fully back into the waiting deepness of my mouth. Immediately I felt him swell inside my mouth and I thought I would not be able to keep him there, but at that same instant he exploded in a marvellous climax. The first two ejaculations were strong, sending a respectable amount of his semen directly into my aching throat. He pushed a little, sending two or three smaller streams into my mouth. I could now taste his juices as they overflowed into my mouth. My tongue revelled in the rich taste, the saltiness was mild, the milkiness fine and the overall sensation so remarkably fulfilling to me. I buried him deeply into my throat as he pumped a few more diminishing loads. Chris collapsed from the impact of his orgasm, his rod pulling all too quickly from my mouth. I grabbed him as he buckled so that he would not be hurt by the fall, not an easy thing to do when you are on your knee! Somehow I did control his fall and he came to rest beside me as I, too, sat on the shower floor. I sorted out his arms and legs so he would be more comfortable, and reached down and pulled his foreskin back over the exposed head of his penis. He nuzzled close to me. We lay together in the shower for a while. It seemed like hours, but in reality it was only minutes. Slowly Chris regained his full composure and lifted his head to kiss me. Softly his tongue found mine and toyed with it as we made our final passionate fusion. I helped Chris to his feet as I stood and we pressed together, his now deflating penis still firm against my own. I shut the water off and we dried each other before moving out to the still warm sunroom. Throwing some logs on to the fire I asked Chris to make a pot of coffee. We sat naked together, still in fragile silence as we drank our coffee and smoked our cigarettes. "Chris," I began hesitantly, "Something very special has happened to me this morning. I am afraid to put it in to words because I do not know how you will accept them. Nor do I really know just how deeply this experience has touched you. But I do have to say that in my heart is a feeling that has not been there before, a new kind of emotion that I do not know how to describe. All I can do is use some familiar words to describe something that is so profound. Chris, with all my heart I know that I love you. Not your body, although I obviously love that very much, but the you that is you." I nervously ran out of words to continue this outpouring of my heart. Not quite knowing what to do, I stood and walked to the windows overlooking the valley and my farm. His feet were quiet on the polished timber floor, so I had not heard him come up to me. "James," Chris said as he slipped his arms around me from behind, "I don't know how to say things as cleverly as you can. I am not a highly educated person, so I have to use simple sorts of words. I do very much understand what you just said to me. I do even more understand what you mean about this special thing that is between us. I don't know what it is or what to call it, but I have to use that word 'love' also. When I came here yesterday and you touched me for the first time I let you do it because I already was deeply in love with you. What we did today was something much more, it was like a waterfall for me - I don't know how else to say it - just like something that had to pour out into our hearts. James, I love you too." I held his hands as they embraced my chest and it was then I could feel that Chris was sobbing. I turned to him and lifted his face to mine. "James, I do love you," Chris managed to stammer. "I loved my father very much, and I love both my brothers. Yet the love I feel for you is something new and wonderful for me. I don't love them any less, but I seem to have discovered a new kind of joy and happiness in my heart. I just do not know how I can say it or express it. Maybe you think that it is some sexual thing, but I want you to know that I have never had any kind of experience like this before. I will tell you more about my sex life some other time, but I just want you to know that the things we have done are something new and very, very important to me." We went back to our chairs by the fire and I poured another coffee. I said "Perhaps we should be careful about this new aspect of our lives. I do not want to abuse my love for you and confuse it with lust. I want this to be something we treasure, something precious and valuable, something of honour and respect and dignity between us." Chris nodded sagely as he lit a fresh cigarette. "When we have finished our coffees I suggest we had better get some work done. I note that the forecast is for more storms tonight, and the sky is already getting blacker. There are a few things we need to get sorted out before the bad weather comes in. Okay with you?" "Sure, boss," Chris said cheekily. It was a cold, wet day. When we were ready to go out we put on raincoats to keep some of the dampness off our clothes. Chris rolled his trouser legs up a few turns so they would not get as wet. We were both barefoot and the ice crackled under our feet as we made our way towards a large dam on the creek that runs through my property. It was important to check the pumps were not getting flooded, because my irrigation system depended on the pumps in the summer months. Everything seemed to be fine when we did our check, so I took a few minutes to explain how the irrigation system worked. Chris was quite interested in it and asked a lot of questions; obviously he could see uses for an irrigation process in his vegetable farm. I asked, "How do you water your plants in the dry season?" Chris told me that they had a large tank on a stand that gave them a certain amount of water for their vegetables. When it ran dry they purchased water to fill it again. It was not usually enough for a full season, particularly since it seemed the summers were longer and the winters dryer than in the past. "Lots of people are saying we could be in for a real change in the climate if this cycle keeps going on," Chris expounded. It was ironical that we should be discussing the dry summer when we were in the middle of the wettest part of winter, but the subject was brought on from an inspection of my own irrigation system. I wondered if it might not be possible to do something for the boys. Maybe there was a suitable place to build a dam on their farm and to equip it with pumping and piping? I would have to make time to go and see in the next month or so. We continued on with work out in the fields. Fallen branches or other debris is forever blocking drainage ditches, so we worked our way along several of the ditches to clear them out. One thing that is very detrimental to fruit and olive trees is collected water, so it is important to keep the rainwater flowing on from the trees. Of course, there is the additional advantage of collecting rainwater when it is plentiful, because it is recycled to the trees later in the year when there is no rainfall. By about 1 o'clock it was getting so difficult to work outside because of the constant heavy rain that I decided we could do with a lunch break while I reconsidered the afternoon work. Leaving out dripping outer coats on hooks outside, we went in to the house. Coffee was the first priority and then I made some sandwiches for our meal. We sat together in the sunroom where it was warmest. I had put the radio on when we came in so we could hear the weather forecast. Eventually the announcer gave us the news that an extensive frontal system was sweeping in from the Antarctic Ocean and would be bringing severe weather to our part of the country for the next 24 hours or more. They announced that schools would be closing early and that parents could expect their children home before the regular time. Roads were likely to be flooded late in the afternoon and people were advised to stay at home unless they really had to travel. "Well, that puts paid to the work for today," I explained. "We will have to tie some loose stuff up near the top shed, but that is about all we can do. All the machinery is away and we have done the best we can on the drainage. I guess Nick will be coming home fairly soon, so we might wait for him and then go out to do the last few jobs together." Chris and I ate our sandwiches in companionable silence, the steady rain being an incessant backdrop noise. The food eaten, Chris came across and sat beside me. "Would you like some more coffee, James?" he asked. I agreed, so he went to put the water on. Shortly he returned with a steaming pot and poured out drinks for us. Sitting down beside me again, Chris rolled a cigarette and lit it, then put it to my lips so I could draw on it, letting me smoke while he kept hold of the cigarette between his fingers. He also smoked from the cigarette, and in this alternate fashion we enjoyed the freshly rolled tobacco. I found the situation particularly enjoyable, because it was another thing we could share and enjoy together. Having Chris feed me the cigarette was a remarkable pleasure and I was feeling very turned on by his actions. I glanced down at his lap and saw that his trousers were definitely tented out where his erection was pushing at the cloth. Chris took the last draw on the cigarette before butting it out and, before he exhaled the smoke, he leant over and kissed me. Opening my lips to accept his tongue, he gently blew the smoke into my mouth. I inhaled his spent smoke as we continued to kiss deeply. The effect was so heady that I felt like I was on some drug or another, almost like that unworldly feeling of anaesthetic when you are going to have an operation. A sudden rap on the door broke the spell of the moment and I went to see who was there. A wet and miserable looking Nick stood at the door, his clothes and bag saturated from the pouring rain he had run through in the distance from the bus stop to the house. I quickly hustled him inside so he could warm up by the fire. Chris got up from the chair we had been sitting in and helped his brother, unaware, or perhaps uncaring that his hard penis was quite visible. "Nick, I have some dry clothes you can put on. My nephew occasionally stays here in his school holidays and has left some clothing in one of the rooms. Let me see what I can find." I went off to get clothing after asking Chris to pick up a towel from the linen cupboard. When I returned to the room I found that Nick was already peeling off his wet shirt, his jacket already on a drying rack near the fire. Chris took his shirt and told him to get his trousers off also. Nick hesitated, glancing in my direction, and Chris said, "James is okay. He will not mind you with no clothes on. Just hurry up and get on with it before you get yourself a dose of the flu." Nick undid his belt and trousers then stepped out of them. Like Chris, he did not wear underpants. He was well equipped for a young boy, his body much more conditioned than Chris - probably because of his running training - and his penis almost identically the same in shape, size and colour as his brother. I had not intended to take all this in, I am not interested in young boys, but this lad was so unconcerned by his nakedness and certainly had much to be proud of. Besides, he was a well-developed young boy, well past his puberty years, so I did not consider him to be in the category of a child. Nick towelled himself dry, taking what seemed an extra long time to dry his hair and giving me a much longer than expected time to examine further the beautiful sheathed penis and ball sac that hung between his legs. I handed Nick the clothes I had collected and he pulled on a warm shirt and faded jeans. My nephew did not wear underpants either, so I had none to offer Nick. It was just as well he did not use them. Like his brother, Nick rolled up the legs of his jeans a few turns so that they would not get wet in the rain. I asked if he had eaten and Nick assured me he had. He agreed to a coffee; so once more the coffee pot was put on to make a fresh brew. My coffee bill was going to be astronomical with these boys around! We sat in the sunroom as the rain increased its deluge, sipping at our coffee. Chris and I rolled cigarettes and I must have shown my surprise when Chris offered the pack to Nick, who also rolled a cigarette. "Dad sort of encouraged us to smoke from when we were very young," Chris told me. "Well, he didn't really make us smoke, but he never stopped us either. The three of us smoke, but when we have a bad year like this one, of course we don't smoke so much. You have no idea just how great it was for us to be able to have a couple of cigarettes last night from the tobacco you gave me yesterday. We were all hanging out for a smoke." Coffee and cigarettes finished, I explained to Nick that we had a few little jobs to do up at the top shed and would like his help. "Sure thing, Mister James. I like working outside and I really want to help you out because you have been so good to us boys, especially to Chris." "Hey," I said, "Just call me James. I know that I am old enough to be you father, but I hope you can think of me more as a friend than anything else. Please call me James." Nick, being forever the academic, thought for a moment before replying. "No, sir, I don't think I could do that. I am sorry, but I respect you too much and my Dad always told me to show due respect for good people, especially when they are older than you are. I am sorry, but I will have to call you Mister James or Mister MacMannis until I am older. Please understand that I do respect you very highly and, because Chris trusts you, so do I. You are my friend, but you are much more than that." It was my turn to feel emotional now. I had never had a person express thoughts like this to me before. That is one lonely thing about being a single person who has never had his own children. My nephew and I are very close and we have great times together, but he has never uttered a single sentiment on a par with that which Nick had just expressed. I felt deeply moved. "Thank you, Nick. I hope that I can live up to your ideal and expectation of me." I offered him my hand and we shook solemnly. "Come on, you two." Chris was at the door, keen to get the last jobs done before the worst of the weather came in. We went out, pulling on our raincoats, including Nick who grabbed a spare that was on a hook. The temperature had dropped considerably outside and I shivered in the chilly wind. It was not far to the top shed, so named because it was further uphill than the house, and our muddy feet soon encountered the concrete floor of the shed and we shook off the worst of the rain. There were some drums and a bit of equipment that I wanted to secure against high winds. Also, a tank was empty and I wanted to put some water in it so it would not blow away if a gale came up during the night. I ran the transfer pump up as the boys put other bits and pieces out of the weather. The water reached the level I wanted in the tank and I closed down the pump. By this time the two brothers had done everything else. They were quite wet, and I could see that I would have to find some more clothing when we got back to the house. The very last job was to put some hay out for the horses, so we each gathered up a bundle of hay and threw it into the horse paddock where they were waiting. From there was a downhill trek to the house over rough rocky ground. I proudly took note that Nick was obviously as strong footed as Chris, because he walked over the sharp ground without noticing it at all. When we got back to the house we went straight inside. I was immediately drawn to the phone, which had just started ringing.