Life on the Farm (James' Story Part 5)

The usual cautions, precautions, copyright information, and other such things, such as this story contains sexual situations between consenting adolescent boys, it is copyrighted meaning please do not republish this story in any form without express written consent from, and attribution to the author, © 2011 Joe Writer Man.

If reading such material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then notice is given that you are reading at your own risk, and that © 2011 Joe Writer Man is held forever and completely harmless should any legal action be taken against you.

This is solely a work of fiction. Any semblance to any real live person is purely incidental and incidental, and is a figment of the authors’ imagination.

*-* Friday (continued) *-*

A car drove into the driveway, much, much faster than would be expected if someone were just coming to our house to visit, or when the 'rents arrived home from their fun and games 'at the office' they so fondly said. I began violently shaking again, I got cold... I couldn't tell shivers from shaking at that point, I didn't care. I looked to the kitchen door. Adam's face peered inside, and that was when I heard the door handle rattle. It opened.

He looked all around then his eyes settled on my form sitting in the hallway, next to the phone stand, huddled up, shivering uncontrollably. His eyes opened widely. Without delaying, he immediately walked to me, sat down, put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side. He rubbed my back in little circles, assured me all was okay now and some other things but I didn't hear them because without a second thought, I crawled into his lap with my face facing his and buried it into his neck and held on for dear life, and cried.

He didn't say anything because he knew, from his inner depths as an adult, that I just needed to decompress. He just held me in his arms letting me blubber and blabber to relieve my fear. I was saying something, what I don't recall, but he'd just let me say whatever it was, saying all along to just let it flow, to not try to stop it, and to not hold back, that I just needed to release those demons residing inside my head, perhaps even with my soul.

At some point in time, unbeknownst to me, I wore out from my exertions and fell asleep. I didn't even care that I had no clothes on, even underwear, not even socks.

When I awoke, Adam was sitting in dad's chair with me hugged closely to his chest and neck areas. He was continuously and constantly rubbing my back from the nape of my neck to the top of my crack, but not inside that dark place. I realized I was wearing a pair of underwear briefs and socks, but nothing else.

Then those hard earned feelings of acting like some fucking baby took over. Despite his assurances that all was well, I knew they weren't so I wrenched my way off his lap, stood up woozily then looked at him... wanting to be in that safe cocoon yet not wanting to be there at the same time.

I guess he saw the confusion running through my brain, stood up, took me into his arms and held on despite my feeble attempts to move away. No he didn't force me into his arms; rather he held on and didn't give up. Nobody had ever done that to or for me before, that I could remember, and I would have remembered something like that. You remember things when they are huge, or when they are so totally out of the ordinary that they have no chance of ever leaving, as if they were indelibly etched into the gray matter of one's brain.

With the debate going through my head, I fell back into familiar territory saying, “I'm sorry for blowing it. I'll never do it again. Please don't hate me.”

With that said, I took off for the bathroom where I slammed the door shut, locked it, got pissed, and screamed every cuss word I'd ever learned, and then some more that I just made up. I stomped my feet to the hard tile floor until the balls of my feet hurt, all the while tears began flowing freely again or still, I couldn't tell which, all amidst Adam telling me to open the door else he was going to knock it down.

As it were, I neither opened the door and he didn't bust it down. From the shadows of his feet just outside the doorway I saw that he didn't leave or go away.

I stripped off my underwear and socks, turned on the shower and got the water to temperature. After stepping in, I quickly washed my hair and body, paying no particular mind to my hard cock jutting from its rooting place beneath the spattering of pubic hairs growing from the skin.

By the time I was finished bathing, I'd calmed down considerably but was left with a foreboding and uncertainty I'd never before experienced, really.

After drying off, I stood at the bathroom door with my hand on the door knob not knowing what to expect. I noticed that the shadows of his feet were still present, that they hadn't changed positions, and that he was waiting for me to exit. Aside from his physical presence, which was obvious, somewhere deep down inside I felt that he'd be there regardless.

With that last thought deeply imbedded in my head, and in my heart perhaps, I slowly turned the door knob and opened the door. He was standing in the doorway. I looked into his eyes and saw something that I never recalled seeing. Was it concern? Was it caring? Was it longing? Was it wanting? Was it needing?

I didn't know. And he wouldn't say. We just looked at each other. I kind of halfway expected him to reach out his arms to take me into them, but he didn't. And I didn't go into them. We just stood there waiting for the other to make the first move.

I made the first move: I walked past him into my room where I retrieved a pair of underwear and quickly put them on realizing I was naked and that he'd seen my cock straining into the air, reaching for the stars.

I sat on the bed to put on my socks and was immediately met with a sopping wet comforter and set of sheets strewn all about the place where I'd laid my head at night. Immediately, I got up but it was too late.

“Fucking, goddamned storms.” I screamed, pissed that I was so fucking goddamned stupid that I'd sit on something I knew, or should have known, was wet.

Angrily, I tore the thin fabric from my body and threw them across the room, landing in a heap next to the chest of drawers. I grabbed another pair, put them on, and retrieved another pair of socks replacing the ones I'd laid on the bed before realizing or caring it was wet. I put on a pair of jeans retrieved from the closet. I looked up. Adam hadn't left; instead he was looking at me with what I gathered to be pain in his eyes.

I turned away and headed into my closet where I retrieved a yellow Nike pull-over shit and put it on, tucking it into my jeans which I then pulled up and fastened.

Very softly, even caringly, Adam spoke, “The rain is supposed to end by noon-time. The sun will come out, which means it's going to get hot and sticky. Grab up some clothes, our camping trip is on.”

With that he turned and went into the kitchen. I heard him opening and closing cabinet doors and the refrigerator multiple times.

My day was rapidly improving as I recalled his purchases of provisions a few days ago. I found an old Nike clothes bag which I filled to overflowing with underwear, socks, 2 pair of jeans, 3 or 4 shirts, and a pair of tennis shoes I'd never worn, that had sat on the closet floor because I hated them. I hated them. Mom had bitched me out for wearing out the old ones, and because I was growing so fast she couldn't and didn't want to keep up.

The smell of frying bacon rapidly and completely awoke my senses and my stomach because it started grumbling its protests at being empty, and because I was hungry in a big way.

I grabbed the big bag with the Speedos and underwear Adam had purchased and tossed in the overflowing items then went to the bathroom and retrieved my toothbrush and tooth paste and plunked them inside.

My hair was sticking up and out and everywhere so I blow dried it and brushed it out and then spiked it with goo, making sure it was perfect.

I went into the kitchen to help out but what I found was a large platter of crispy fried bacon which I stuck my hand into, retrieving 4 slices and sticking them into my mouth, all in one fell swoop. Adam didn't say a word. He did look at me and smiled mischievously. With that same look of defiance he grabbed 3 slices and put them into his mouth and chewed happily. I giggled then grabbed two more slices before sitting down to put my shoes on.

We sat at the table and devoured the food in front of us, leaving not a single morsel behind. We were, all the while, talking about the camping trip, and hoping against all hope that the weather people were correct with their predictions of sunny skies.

Adam excused himself after asking if he could use the restroom. I found that odd – that he would ask permission since he was the adult in the house. At the same time, though, I felt that he somehow respected my place enough to ask. My idea of cleaning up the kitchen consisted of piling them into the sink, and then walking away.

Adam had a different idea though. He washed and I dried, put them into their rightful places, and then wiped down the counters and table, sat the chairs under it like we'd found them. He even removed the sack for trash and sat it by the outside kitchen door so we could properly discard it on our way out.

Soon we were ready. I found it odd that I'd packed so much stuff when, in the past, I'd only packed up a change or two called it good enough. Somehow, I thought 'this time' would be different, but I didn't know how different it would be. I had no clue as what tomorrow would bring, only that we were going to have loads of fun and excitement and exploration of new frontiers.

*-*

At Adam's house we gathered up the belongings he'd need for at least 3 days away from home. Once the clothing and stuff was put into the '350', as we'd call it, we went back into the house and loaded up his camera and computer equipment. The '350' had plenty of room to spare once everything was stowed.

Before we got on the road I hit the bathroom and exploded a mess of methane gas and other semi-solid materials into the sewer system. I didn't think the end would ever arrive. I got seriously concerned because the last of it was profuse diarrhea. I'd been known to have a quick stomach while riding on the few trips the 'rents had so graciously taken me on.

But, I felt empty. After cleaning up, which required soap and water in addition to toilet paper I pulled my underwear out to make sure nothing had escaped in my hurry to the restroom. All was well. I folded up a bunch of Kleenex and inserted them into the back my underwear, a trick I'd learned on my own to protect things from at least the first accident.

We arrived at his cabin about 4 hours later, stopping 6 times, twice on the road while hunkered between the expansive doors on his truck. Luckily, I was able to wait just long enough until he could pull into an open spot or into a convenience store. At the fourth place he purchased some anti-diarrhea over the counter medicine which would hopefully slow things down. He never once got pissed for having to stop saying we'd just enjoy the scenery better with each stop. He told me that each and every time. The last time he talked through the truck, saying the same thing, tears sprang from my eyes while my back was hunched over the grass expelling the nasty stuff.

When we got back into the truck he looked over the console at me and asked, “Are you okay, James? We've got all day. We're in no hurry, and even if we were in a hurry there are still priorities greater than wherever we're going. We'll get there eventually.”

I had to put my head down and look straight ahead at the tips of my tennis shoes, hoping against hope that I'd not become a fucking cry baby. I was able to maintain but I didn't trust my voice so I just nodded and gave the 'onward ho' signal using my hands and arms. Maybe it was the smile and glimmer of hope that shown through rather than any physical sign or verbal cues that did it, which got us on the road again.

*-*

His cabin was huge. It had 4 large and spacious bedrooms, a large galley sized kitchen, a formal dining room, a TV room with all the latest gadgets including surround sound and a speaker system that scattered the tuner throughout the entire house, and outside the house, too.

The place was secluded to the hilt affording maximum privacy, as quiet as we chose to have it though we were talking incessantly about this, that and everything. Trees were everywhere. The water, quite high from the recent storms, surrounded the home. One got from one place to the other – the driveway to the house, the house to the boat ramp, all of it was accessible only by planks, though the boat dock was accessible from the driveway, of course. It would be hard to carry such a big fucking boat... impossible.

We'd been unloading the '350' into the kitchen. Seeing how much shit we'd packed was surprising – to both of us. I made the off-handed comment that it looked as though we were moving in, not spending only 3 days.

Adam took me through all 4 bedrooms, telling me all the while to pick out whichever one I wanted to sleep in. All had full baths, complete with Jacuzzi's and fully stocked cabinets with towels, sun screen, sunburn lotions (Aloe Vera based), candles and incense.

Speaking of jasmine, Adam went throughout the house and lit up burners for incense. Pretty soon the house smelled clean, crisp and inviting, replacing the slightly musty odor that had first permeated my nostrils.

I chose a smaller bedroom richly decorated in lavender and white pastels, a king-sized bed, and a fire place, not that I'd need the latter because as predicted the temperature had rose into the middle 90's and it was humid as all hell, yet the house was cool, but not from air conditioning, rather a breeze blew inside through the spacious windows. It was cool, also, because large trees covered most of the roof.

Adam said I'd made a good selection and helped me get my things inside and put away into their appropriate places. He then took the bag and sacks and put them away in a closet. He said that he hated the 'living out of a suitcase' effect.

The master bedroom was located just across the hall from 'mine'. I went into his bedroom. It was richly decorated in soft pastel blues and whites. Likewise, we got his stuff put away. At no time did either of our rooms appear to have the 'out of a suitcase' look.

We then took off for the '350', and with my 'help' he backed it down the ramp and expertly and precisely unloaded it into the water. After parking the truck and trailer up by the house he put his arm around my shoulder and led us to the boat where we got on-board and walked up to the “crow's nest” where the controls and whatnot were located. He urged me onto his lap, put his arms around my shoulders, and with a catch in his voice said, “This is something I've always wanted to do.”

With that, he reached into his pocket, retrieved a set of keys, picked out one and then handed the key ring to me, and said, “Aye aye, Captain. Take us to the fuel reserve. I'll co-pilot. James, this is our maiden voyage, be easy with her as we only have 5 gallons of diesel fuel to get us three coves up on the right.”

I looked amongst all the dials and displays and found what appeared to be a keyhole. I inserted the key and turned it a little ways just to make sure the key was the correct one – it was.

“Ahoy matey! Let's get underway! We've got people to see, places to go, things to do, new adventures to experience, new frontiers to discover, and a little boy and a thirty-something year old who are ready to rock and roll.” He laughed all the way through, as did I.

I turned the key and watched the displays come to life, as they lit up like a Christmas tree, and then I turned it against the resistance causing the engines to roar their happiness, which met my own as I sat there in total awe, unable to move.

Adam pushed a button which started us backing up and out of the cove. We didn't have to steer since the exit to the cove was straight behind us. When we broke the tree line, he pushed another button which started us forward. With only minimal assistance I steered the watercraft on a straightaway course. He showed me the throttle and told me to push forward to increase speed and to pull back for slowing down. He cautioned me to not push all the way forward because of our low fuel status. About 20 minutes later, he provided considerable assistance to get docked at a fuel pump. An attendant filled us up. Adam gave him a credit card... I'd noticed the pump going 90 to nothing and saw that it had ended at about $237.00, and some change.

With minimal assistance I backed her out of the slip, negotiated two other boats and out into open water. And then we took off. Adam told me where to go and without any assistance we went in that direction. I was on top of the world, having the blast of a lifetime. Adam then took control. He pushed the throttle all the way forward... the speed registered 65 knots. We were flying quietly down the lake out in the open water. I asked, “How fast are we going?!!”

“The conversion from MPH to knots is roughly point eight six. If the speedometer shows 65 knots, how fast would we be going in MPH?”

“You mean we're going 75 miles per hour?!!!!!”

“You're good, James. Yup, we're doing 75. Shit, there's the water patrol. Okay buddy, we're going to stop... we broke the speed limit. Why don't you sit in the navigator's chair while I take care of business?”

Quickly, I got off his lap and sat down in the seat next to him, marked navigator on the back cushion.

The water patrol stopped on the side of our boat. Adam got up, opened the gate for the officer and greeted him warmly.

The officer came onboard, greeted me warmly then looked at Adam and said, “This is a nice boat. It looks brand new. Are you testing it out, sir?”

“Yes sir, the boy, and me too <chuckling> wanted to see what she was made of.”

The officer smiled and then they took care of their business, such as insurance, ownership papers, etc.

The office looked around in the cabinets, 'down below', the engine compartment, under the seats, in the console, under the dashboard, and the hold area, and the live well. He then patted Adam down, looking for weapons and whatnot like they do on TV. The officer looked at me then I got up and allowed him to do what he needed to do. I was surprised that he felt up my male compartment and my butt crack. Adam seeing what the officer was doing quickly said respectfully, “Leave the boy alone, sir.”

When Adam said that I backed off and away and allowed Adam to pull me into his chest where he put his arms around me protectively.

The officer was clearly not pleased by the turn of events but I'm glad Adam said what he'd said. That fuckin officer gave me a hard by touching my most private of places, places where I'd not let anyone touch me before, ever. He regarded us carefully then ended the confrontation with, “You guys need to be more careful. This is just a warning: the maximum speed is 50 knots, I clocked you at 62. Take care.”

With that he got off the boat with no assistance. After Adam closed the gate and secured the chains holding it closed he returned and urged me to sit in the navigator's chair. He headed us back to his place, docked it and showed me how to tie it up.

When all was said and done, we went to the cabin and sat in chairs on the deck. The view overlooked our end of the lake. He said, “I'm sorry that had to happen to you. There was no call for him to frisk you; you're a kid for Christ sake. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. He probably got what he was after.” I chuckled, grinning like a Cheshire cat would do.

Adam chuckled nervously, “He still had no right to do that to you.”

I felt my stomach churning again. Quickly, I got up, went into my bathroom and just got my jeans down when another bout of diarrhea hit like a lead balloon, causing me to bend over with the cramps.

Adam, seeing my situation, entered the bathroom, sat down on the floor next to me and then rubbed my back, until the cramps subsided after a massive explosion of methane gas and pure liquids, ended.

My butthole, being massively sore, rebelled at being touched with the soft toilet paper. Adam left the room with instructions to take a shower, and added that he had some cream somewhere in the house to help with the soreness.

The house had soft water so I just let the water run over my back side while I showered. At the end, I ran the bar of soap up and down my hole and its surrounding areas. After rinsing, I got out and dried off. On the vanity was a tube of cortisone cream. I applied it liberally to that which was sore and wiped off the excess into the toilet paper.

With all the attention to my butthole, despite it being sore, I had a massive bone and knew it needed to be taken care of so I closed the door to my room, plopped down on the bed and then took matters into my hands and rubbed off a good one.

Adam knocked on my door, breaking my post orgasmic state of affairs into awareness. Quickly, I retrieved a clean pair of underwear; the bikini with the strings attached, put them on and then opened the door. While my dick was somewhat pudged, it wasn't hard, so I wasn't concerned about what I'd be showing him, besides that he'd seen me naked during my meltdown earlier in the day.

“Are you okay? Did you get cleaned up good? And did you put the cream on your bottom?” Adam asked concernedly.

I smiled because I was indeed feeling much better, “Yes, yes and yes.”

“Good. The next order of business is to fix up something to eat for dinner. Do you feel hungry?”

“Hella hungry.” I replied readily since I did indeed feel hungry.

He replied, “I'll fix you something bland. It's time for a dose of the medicine.” With that he put his arm around my shoulder and led me to the kitchen area.

I asked, “Shouldn't I put some clothes on?”

He answered by taking off his shirt and jeans, socks and shoes. He had on a pair of bikini underwear, just like I had on. His pouch was filled to capacity, his pubes clearly overflowing it, yet his dick was, while clearly evident, at parade rest. I found the sight of his lean and trim body fascinating.

He saw me looking. I felt self-conscious but he patted my back and invited me to help him with dinner preparations. He walked out to the deck and started up the grill. We had lightly seasoned steaks and a baked potato each. Instead of a raw salad and fruit, he pulled a banana from the basket and tossed it my way. I caught it, peeled it and then ate heartily. He said that bananas were good for diarrhea.

After dinner, he gave me 4 pills saying that I'd feel better once the runs stopped. Over the evening, I had no further need for the toilet, other than to pee.

At about 10:00pm, Adam shooed me off to bed saying we had a busy day planned. He wouldn’t tell me what would keep us so bust. The only thing he would say to answer my question was that we’d be out on the boat shooting pictures.

I went to bed but did not immediately fall asleep. After tossing and turning for a while, I got up, went into the bathroom and peed, then went to the built in TV with cabinets underneath it. I started opening drawers. In one of the bottom I found several magazines, but because of the poor lighting in that part of the room, I took them to the bed I was using, turned on the overhead light… and shock cannot describe how I felt… the front cover was that of a boy about my age who was parading around totally naked on THIS property. Quickly, I rifled through the entire publication. Throughout it, several shoots had been done for other boys about my age, in various states of dress, usually with thongs or very revealing bikini underwear… some had stories some did not.

All of the magazines were “Boy’s World, International.”

In a very real way, I found those magazines intriguing. I wondered how much they got paid… it had to have been a lot in order to get those guys naked in front of a camera. I make a pact to be sure to ask Adam the following morning.

Until then, I decided to have a little fun. I stripped down naked, got under the covers, and while thumbing through the magazines jacked off to a very, very successful conclusion.

*-* Saturday *-*

The clock on the bed read 10:07am. I looked at it again not believing the time. I never slept that late, ever.

And I never slept on my stomach, ever.

Putting all that aside, more important matters demanded my attention. I made a beeline to the restroom feeling a need to evacuate that which expels nasty, stinky stuff. I sat on the toilet and one of those long rolling farts escaped the hatch while at the same time pissed a steady stream to be proud of, for sure.

Upon exiting the bathroom, I heard a boom blaster off in the distance. I went to the window and looked out. Adam was hanging off the side of the boat – wearing only a Speedo brief.

Adam looked up from his work, smiled and waived for me to come outside.

I retrieved a pair of bright blue Speedos from the drawer, put them on and found them to be a bit large but not too much. I tied the string to snug them up low, very low on my hips.

Outside, Adam was waxing the boats' surface.

“Hey Adam.” I said happily.

“Hey yourself. It's about time you got up; the day's half over. There's cereal in the pantry on the bottom shelf to the left. Help yourself.”

“Can I help? I need to earn my keep, remember?”

He looked at me pensively, thinking.

“Tell you what, I have only 1 harness and its adult sized. There's a can of cleaner in a pink can just inside the door to the boat...”

We broke for a late breakfast, early lunch.

After the meal was devoured and the kitchen cleaned up we returned to our jobs. The work was completed mid-afternoon which left us the rest of the day to goof off since we weren't going to do a shoot until Sunday, the following day.

“Can you swim, do you know how?” Adam asked.

“Yup.”

The first time in the water, Adam jumped in from the doc ahead of me so that I could prove myself. The water was deep; it was even above his head so, much to my chagrin he insisted that we wear flotation devices. I protested but those protests fell on deaf ears. The only other alternative was to not get in the water, period. He didn't get pissed or anything, instead he talked to me matter of fact.

After swimming for a couple of hours, we took showers, got dressed in t-shirts and pairs of Speedos and tennis shoes then took the boat to a restaurant, accessible only by water, where we had a wonderful dinner consisting of a all you can eat shrimp, crab legs, sea bass, catfish and lobster bar. We both ate until I thought I was gonna bust a seam. There's always room for banana cream pie though.

By the time we were finished eating the sun was low on the horizon and directly in our vision. Adam carefully guided the boat back to our cove, though he taught me, again, how to properly dock. He didn't yell or scream at, tear me down or make fun of me at my expense for bumping the dock hard on my first attempt. I was paying rapt attention to his instructions.

Much to my surprise he backed the boat out of the slip and took us out into open waters then had me take her in once the wake had passed. I had it down. First time.

“Aye aye, Captain.” He said while patting me on the back.

Later, Adam put the move Shogun into the DVR, cranked up and made several adjustments to the sound... the rich audio and large screen made me feel like I was actually on the movie set. He said that a movie set is rather drab in that most all animation is computer generated, the sound is mixed and remastered, and the entire movie is put altogether, edited and perfected.

*-* Sunday *-*

I was awoken by voices. They were close by though I couldn't understand what they were saying. Curious, I reached to the floor and retrieved my underwear and sleep shorts and put them on. I looked outside from the bedroom window and was surprise to see many men milling about on the boat dock...

After peeing, I took off for Adam's room not expecting to see him. He was lying awake, reading a book.

“What are those men doing down by the boat?” I asked curiously.

Adam's eyes went big like they were China saucers. In one fluid motion the book fell to the bed, he got out of bed, quickly put on his underwear and a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt.

I took him to my bedroom window. He looked out and immediately said, “James, listen to me very carefully.” I nodded. He continued, “Get dressed. I'll be in the studio. Meet me there. Hurry.”

Five minutes later, I was sitting in a chair opposite him. He said, “Put this in the sole of your shoe. Call this payday. There's $500.00 cash and a debit card for another $1,500.00. Go on, do it now. Don't ask any questions. When we go to see what they're doing, don't ask any questions or say anything, unless I say you can.”

“But, who are they?” I asked seriously.

“Shall we find out? Let's do.” Adam said lightheartedly, yet I picked up in his voice a high level of anxiety.

After putting on a shirt and tucking it in, I put the card and cash inside my sock. Adam then handed me a business card and said, “If shit happens, call Tony, he's a good guy and will take care of you as much as you'll let him. We've worked together a number of times. He'll have things for you to do, because like you he doesn't do handouts and charity.”

With that said he put on my shoes and cinched them up tight. Something we hadn't ever really done before except at the house when I spun out was to hug each other. He hugged me tight. I returned it.

*** To be continued

If you have comments about my story, please write me at Joe Writer Man. All of my stories are located on my parent website Joe Writer Man Stories.