Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2015 07:12:05 +0000 (UTC)
From: Max Iman <max.iman@rocketmail.com>
Subject: New Zealand mature farmer and the farm help

Author: Maxwell Beazley
Email: max.iman@rocketmail.com
Category: Gay Male Rural

  The following is a true story of events that occurred during the
adolescent years of the writer and his employer which progressed into a
sexual relationship. The names of the characters have been changed to
protect the identity of the parties and their families. It is the
property of the writer and is not to be altered, copied or plagiarized in
any form.

CHAPTER 6

We lay silent. Allan on his back eyes closed, both hands gently clasped
onto the arm that held him. My head nested into the nape of his neck as I
watched his chest rise and fall with each soft breath, blanket of silver
grey hairs glimmered in the light that bathed the room in the aftermath
of our union. The words ?We were one? repeating over and over in my head.
Allan?s eyes flickered open turning toward me he drew me closer our bodies
moulding. His cheek against mine, each lost in their own thoughts just
the sound of beating hearts no words were spoken. I wanted the moment to
last forever. Emotions stirred that were new to me. Almost in the way I
felt toward my parents and family yet this was different. My mother spoke
often of her love for my brother and me and to my young mind, love, meant
feelings of warmth and tenderness that I felt for her and my dad most of
the time, my younger brother whilst he was a pain in the ass, and
extended members of my family. It was the same feeling I had for Allan
except for the times he entered my thoughts or when he was near, I would
get a raging hard-on. If this was love, then love it must be of a
different kind. The thought disturbed me. Would this fuck me over for the
rest of my life.
Allan was the first to stir ?Hungry yet, cause I am?
'Not really?
?How about a cold lamb chop and salad??
?Sounds good?
We untangled, rolling off the bed amidst the mess of entwined sheets and
blankets that mostly hung off the  bed onto the floor. ?Better change these?
Allan quipped.
?You do that and I?ll wash up and get the food ready?
Washing my hands and cock with a soaped face cloth I headed for the
kitchen. I found the left over lamb chops in the refrigerator. Also a
container of left over vegetables from a previous meal that I thought to
reheat to a method that mum had taught me. All I needed was a frypan, a
dollop of butter, diced onion and a wooden paddle. Graham Kerr the star
of a popular television cooking show would have been proud of me. The
hashed vegetables were soon sizzling in the pan. With a final stir
placing the cold chops on top of the hash and then the lid on the pan, I
then set the table. Allan made his entrance, he had washed and even had
the foresight to dress for dinner in a pair of shorts but otherwise
naked. ?I?dbetter get some shorts on? I remarked feeling under dressed.
?Wouldn?t bother. No one for miles and you can?t see in here from the road?. It
was true. The drive way to the house lead off a bend from the public
gravel road and besides, you could hear the rumbling of gravel stones
being thrown up under the vehicle as it approached from a mile away the
sound growing in intensity and then fading into the distance after it had
passed. I donned on a pair of boxes anyway.
We ate heartily. Allan was suitably impressed with my cooking skills
albeit a reheated hash. With the dishes and table cleared we retired for
bed. It was late, way past a dairy farmer?s usual bedtime. The bed was
neatly made up with fresh sheets. It felt good. I was asleep within
seconds. Not for long however.
I was awoken by a sensation to my cock being fondled. Allan was nestled
against me his hand gently tugging at my resting tool. He felt me stir. ?Im
horny? he whispered.
?What?s the time? I croaked.
'Fucking time?
He was over me mouth searching for mine. The kiss urgent. I reached down,
my hand finding his glorious enraged tool. We stroked in unison my fully
erect cock oozing as his. He broke the kiss turning his back to me he lay
on his side, reaching back for my cock coaxing me toward the prize of his
offering guiding the cockhead to his entrance. I pushed forward and met
resistance. I found his slime covered cock, robbing it of its dribbling
juices I slicked pre-cum covered fingers over the entrance to his
channel. I pushed forward his entrance gradually opening allowing for my
invasion. I was in.
Allan tensed. I felt his body jerk suddenly.
?Alright honey?? I purred.
'Yeah. Give me a minute?
I lay still. Allan?s breathing grew steady. Soon his hips began a gentle
rocking motion. More and more of my pre-cum slicked cock slid into his
heated love channel as the tempo to his rocking increased. I held onto my
wonderful man caressing his chest and torso lightly brushing my fingers
over the enflamed man nipples as his body danced to a tune only he could
hear. I heard guttural moans rise up from within me. Allan uttered
moaning?s to a language I did not know. He was fucking himself at a pace of
his choosing and to sensations to his initial virgin loss. I reached for
his drooling cock. I stroked up and down its full length. No thrashing or
thumping of the bedhead against the wall, just the faint squeak of the
bed springs and the ticking of the clock. Allan?s breath grew ragged, his
cock thickened in my stroking hand. His whimpering?s grew louder. His
rocking slowed to gentle stabbing, my cock now fully embedded in his hot
slicked love-hole I sensed he had found the joy spot. The fiery furnace
clutched my jabbing cock like a vice. Short stabs back and forth at Allan?s
control. He was fucking me, he was the master leading the way. His cries
grew louder as he rode me. His cock swelled feeling like solid steel in
my stroking hand. His hips suddenly thrashed against me, he roared with
the call of the wild, his cock pulsed, muscles clamped around my cock,
hips jerking, thrashing, Allan?s head rolling side to side, he came and
came and came. I could hear the squish to each jettison of molten spunk
as his cock pulsed in my stroking hand. It pulsed and pulsed. The faint
thud on the bed sheet at the landing of each cum spray. I felt the heat
of it on my bare skin as it splattered my shoulder and cheek. Allan
grabbed my hand to still my stroking. His hips jerking with lesser
ferocity to the subsidence of his orgasm. He slowly settled with the
occasional body twitch, his breathing shallower and even paced. I hadn?t
cum but the beast still embedded in Allan wanted release and I was happy
to oblige. I gently thrust, the slickened silky fuck-chute sucking on my
sliding rod with each stroke. I rolled Alan forward onto his stomach and
mounted him. Now I was in the commander?s chair and this was the first
order of the day?.
?Im gonna fill you with cum? my desire evident.
'You cum in me honey. Fill me?.
The familiar sound of bed thumping against the wall resumed. The slap,
slap of my hips on Allan?s cheeks drove my passion higher. Allan was
responding. Rising up to meet my downward thrusts he was soon humping the
bed with the same gusto to me riding him. Our gasps and grunts of
pleasure blended in unison with each upward and downward thrust. I rode
on, the sound of Allan?s whimpering soon filled the room. I pounded into
him driven by the pleasure and sensations to my pumping cock, riding,
riding sweat beads forming, fucking, and fucking, glorious fucking. The
bed slamming against the wall, the clinking of wall ornaments a new
addition to the orchestra of sounds, I rode on. Mind dominated by a
single thought, fucking, fucking and more fucking. I rode Allan like
there was no tomorrow. The last root before capture and thrown into
isolation never to fuck again. I rode on. Allan bucked beneath me. The
muscles to his love-chute clasped my fuck rod. I was nearing. Close, deep
tingling in the valley of wonder. Tingling growing, fuck on, fuck on.
Sweat coated my brow dripping onto Allan?s naked skin. Allan slammed back
at me. I pulled him by his hips onto all fours slamming back into his
hole while half standing as I drove my cock in to the hilt stroking. ?Oh
fuck? Allan moaned ?Oh honey fuck me. Fuck me?.
I was huffing, breathing ragged. My heart pounded in my chest. My hips
found new momentum. Pumping in and out, Allan?s slicked hole drawing me in
like a vacuum. I was near. The tense build-up of pressure prior to
orgasm. Allan moved forward placing a hand against the wall half leaning
while with his free hand he pumped his cock with the slap, slap, slap of
a pre-cum well lubricated hand. I could feel my balls recoil, tingling
creeping up the shaft of my cock my cockhead swelling. Lights dancing,
toes curled, body jerking, I blasted into Allan as the muscles to his
fuck-chute clamped down on my cock. We roared in unison as we came
together. I pulled Allan by his hips hard against me. There was no
escape. I was filling him, my cock pumping cum into his bowels. I fell
upon Allan drained of energy, exhausted. Allan lay down on the bed with
me atop of him still mounted and joined together. We had fucked our
brains out in the darkness of the night. Allan one load up on me. Arms
embracing one another, we drifted off into a deep sleep.
We awoke to the clanging of the alarm clock. Neither Allan nor I
displayed the enthusiasm levels to previous mornings. The world moved
slower this morning. The dawning daylight revealing the evidence to the
sexual prowess and activities of the previous evening. Darkish stains
blemished the bed sheet where Allan lay with random blotches here and
there including the bedhead and wallpaper. I knew Allan was a shooter and
here was the proof. He did this.
?Hope the weather clears. Be running out of sheets if the rain keeps up?
Allan must of read my thoughts.
Starting the day with a hot cuppa seemed to have revived our energy
levels. The morning milk went like clockwork. Breakfast consisted of hot
porridge, topped with brown sugar and cream with loads of toast.
We set off on the day?s tasks with a break for lunch for an hour, before
continuing on with the never-ending demands of farming.
The day progressed smoothly. Even the rain held off. Making good time
Allan and I laboured on driven with renewed purpose to complete as many
tasks as possible in the time available before the golden hour of 4pm.
Allan was thrilled to the outcomes. ?Two sets of hands are certainly better
than one? his face glowed.
?Have you had anyone help out with this side of the farm before?? I was
genuinely interested.
?Only contractors, heavy machinery operators once or twice, tradesmen
Electricians and the like but not to help out with the general stuff. Dad
did it all himself so I always have?.
?Could be a help short-term from time to time? I suggested.
?Isee your point?. Allan nodded.
From paperwork that Allan maintained it appeared that were making better
time to complete the milking of the herd. We were either working more
efficiently as a team, or the cows were not giving as much milk as
before. Allan confirmed that the latter was not the case. I had found my
groove perhaps and was finally getting the hang of it.
Shortly after our arrival back at the house I asked Allan if I could use
the telephone to call my mum to check how things were going. ?Go for it? he
said waving a hand in the direction of the phone.
I called mum and after a lengthy conversation hung up the phone in search
of Allan who I found doing the laundry, feeding a wet sheet into the spin
tub of the washer.
?Dads home and sober. He didn?t go out?. I was still in shock. ?So is my brother.
My uncle Bill (Mum?s older brother who gifted me the Humber 80) and Aunt
Kath were over today and have just gone home. Mum said everything?s been
done. They?re just sitting around watching tele. I be back in the morning
to help with the milk and the afternoon as well?.
?You still going home then?
'I?d better. Mum?s expecting me. Christmas Eve ?.? my voice trailing.
'Of course? Allan didnt sound convincing.
'Ill get some dinner together and head off after that?. I left Allan
battling with the wash tub.
Dinner was a simple affair. Steamed veg and pan fried steak. It was
delicious if I say so myself.
Allan washed up the dishes and I dried.
I set off to collect my dirty laundry to do at home. Allan busied himself
in the kitchen.
?Don?t worry about helping out with milking tomorrow. I can handle it. Just
been spoiled having you around. Enjoy the day with your family? his voice
sincere.
'Okay. You do the morning and I?ll be back for the afternoon?.
?You sure?.
?Im sure?.
'Okay. See you then?. I head for my car.
?Behave now?. Allan called after me.
'Always?.

Pulling into the driveway of my home I could see the flicker of the black
and white television through the glass of the front doors to the lounge
room. I found mum and dad with younger brother Dan watching tele with a
Christmas theme. I recognised the female songstress singing ?Oh, Holy night?.
She was good.
?Had dinner? Mum asked.
?Yeah. At Allans?.
?Hows it going? Dads unmistakeable voice coming from somewhere in the
darkened room.
?Great. Hard work though. Going to do my washing? I made an exit for the
laundry.
A gleaming Hoover twin tub washer sat where the agitator washer used to
be.
?You bought a new washer mum? I called from the laundry room.
?AChristmas present from Uncle Bill and Aunt Kath? Dan called back.
Thatll be right I thought to myself. Dad wouldn?t think to buy mum a new
washer. The agitator washer we had borne with markings of repairs that
dad had done over the years. Whilst it still worked, of sorts, it clunked
and clanged with the occasional chink, chink to the sound of metal
grinding on metal. Well, that explains the reason for the visit today by
my favourite Uncle and Aunt. Aunt Kath had called by for a visit several
weeks ago as she would do from time to time. She and mum would chat while
mum continued on with her usual routine to maintaining house. The
clunking and clanging, chink, chink of the agitator washer could easily
be heard from the far reaches of the house to the daily wash of dirty
laundry. It was a sure bet that Aunt Kath had planned this from her visit
that day. She and my uncle were indeed, very special people
Washing my soiled clothes in the new twin tub soon turned into a journey
of discovery. Much easier and quicker compared to its predecessor. The
spinner tub however sounded like a Fokker Friendship winding up for
take-off. I waited for lift-off. Apart from a slight vibration and high
pitch hum, the tub remained seated on the tarmac in its assigned parking
bay. I could see dad pulling it to bits before too long just to see how
it worked.
My washing hung out to dry under a covered area at the back of the house
I joined my family in the lounge room. On Christmas Eve Mum always
prepared a Christmassy snack of home baked goodies. We sat with jaws
munching like cows chewing on their cud with sipping hot tea. Dan as
usual, had stuffed his mouth to capacity looking more like a bloated
Vacuum cleaner dust bag. Something?s never change. This was mum?s special
moment for her family on Christmas Eve usually however, with Dad absent.
Maybe things would be different from now on. I was hopeful.
Christmas Day arrived with the promise of clear skies lifting the mood
and excitement to the events to come as the day unfolded. Dad whistled a
happy tune as he set off armed with buckets, one filled with food scraps
and the other a mixture of grains and slushy mashed oats to feed the
assortment of poultry and animals we kept. A ritual to each new day
repeated again in the afternoon before night set in. Christmas Day was no
different. Dan emerged from the bathroom dressed in colours resembling
the cover of Jimi Hendrix?s latest album. I daren?t spoil his day with some
smart-ass comment that lay at the ready behind pursed lips. I?d leave that
privilege to our cousins who were bound to pile shit on him. I showered
and dressed. Mum was next in the only bathroom to the house. Dad would be
the last. Cars packed with the goodies mum had prepared we set off for
Cousin Frankie?s house where the family were to gather for Christmas lunch.
It would be a huge affair as usual.Going by past years, I estimated fifty
to sixty plus would show. This included children, grandchildren possibly
even great grandchildren and the odd dog or two. Cousin Frankie was the
middle son of three children to Uncle Bill and Aunt Kath?s marriage.
Frankie and wife Bella, had five children all boys, the older two boys
closer to my Brother Dan?s age. The younger siblings weren?t too far off
approaching their teen years. This being a simple example to my mum?s side
of my family. Dad?s side however, required a competent orator to a recital
of his family?s genealogy to the who?s who in the Zoo. Dad was the youngest
sibling of five boys and three girls. An older sister and brother
had passed away many years past with each leaving large families of their
own. Dad was the baby of his surviving siblings. The local town hall
would not have had the capacity to accommodate them should they ever
decide on a family reunion.
We arrived at Cousin Frankie?s to find an array of vehicles lined along
both sides of the roadway. The front lawn barely visible neath? the cars
that covered it. Clearly we had been pipped at the post whilst we were
still very early. A large marquee tent stood proud in the backyard.
People were everywhere, some rushing about while others sat in
conversation. I lost myself in the crowd in search of Cousin Mike my
quest delayed by greetings of merry Christmas, kiss and cuddles from my
many relatives. I loved Christmas time. I found Mike hiding in a corner
fiddling with a camera that Santa had left him under the Christmas tree.
He had finally worked out how to load the film cassette into the cavity
right way up, and to feeding the film strip onto the spindle. He was
armed and ready to go.
'What?d you get? he asked.
'Clothes from mum and dad. Abbey Road album from Dan. A portable cassette
player from Uncle Bill and Aunt Kath?.
'Fuck, you get good stuff from your uncle and aunt. I got a fishing rod
from mum and dad. The cameras from Ben?.
I handed him a small wrapped package retrieved from my jacket pocket.
Mike unwrapping it to reveal a carved greenstone (Jade) pendant in the
shape of a fish hook on a black leather cord.
?Thanks Cuz?. He gushed.
?Igot you something but I left it at home. Nothing like this though? Mike
said with an air of disappointed.
?Im working brother?. Hoping that would assure him to the reason I choose the
gift. ?Otherwise it would have been a tee-shirt or a pair of socks?.
Mike laughed.
Lunch was a sumptuous affair. A feast the envy of Kings. Four long rows
to tables draped in white cotton cloth covers and adorned with crockery
and serving dishes to an assortment of delicacies of a special occasion.
Tables surrounded by the faces of relatives I knew so well, shaded in the
confines of the marquee tent from a sun that blazed down from a cloudless
sky. Having eaten to our fill, people sat relaxed each adding to the hum
of conversation. This is what family is all about. Who would want for
more.
Everybody chipped in to help clear the tables. Makeshift dish washing
facilities had been setup in the garage. People busied themselves
wrapping left over food in protective film or into plastic containers.
Only the nibbles and sweets remained on the table along the outer edge of
the marquee. Bottles of beer and Spirits with mixers, appeared from the
car shed and randomly placed along the tables for anyone wishing to
partake, with exception of the children however, who had their own table.
I moved to sit next to my uncle Bill who had already poured himself a
generous whiskey on the rocks. It was his alcohol of choice. He was the
only person I knew who would slowly revert into a childlike state as the
effects of alcohol took hold. Usually quiet by nature, you could rarely
get a word out of him but with a little alcohol under his belt, he?d be
giggling like a child, no one able to get a word in edgewise. Many a time
I had witnessed Aunt Kath admonish him. You knew who wore the pants in
their household. He was my hero though.
I helped myself to a small whiskey and lots of dry and ice. Followed by
another. I quite liked the taste. I heard mum?s raised voice from somewhere
in the crowd. I couldn?t see her but her beady eyes could see me. 'That?s
enough don?t you think?
'Leave the boy alone? Uncle Bill?s commanding voice coming to my rescue.
Aunt Kath chimed in with her two cents worth in defence of mum. ?Just worry
about yourself. Nothing to do with you?.
Silence.
I flashed a glance to Cousin Frankie who sat opposite me. Chuckling
uncontrollably and with a huge grin on his face his knowing look
suggesting a familiarity with past experiences to his mum and dad in
similar situations. With his mother always coming out on top. It was
nearing milking time anyway and I would have to be on my way soon.
Saying my good-byes to my relatives to hugs and kisses and shaking of
hands to men of the family, I ventured off in search of my car. Cousin
Mike followed me to the gate ?Come back later?. It was almost a plea.
I had given mum a heads-up that I would call by our home to feed the
animals on the way to Allan?s. Dad appeared sober and wasn?t his usual
brain-pissed self by this time, as with previous family gatherings. He
was engrossed in deep conversation with one of his brothers and barely
noticed my passing.
On arriving at Allan?s house with barely a minute to spare before milking I
was surprised to find no Land Rover in the driveway or outside the
cowshed that could be seen from the house. The house stood silent. No
sign of Allan anywhere just the mooing of milk laden cow?s in the distance
udders bursting for relief. The house was locked. Unable to retrieve a
change of clothing with exception to my mud splattered gumboots from the
back veranda, I set off for the cowshed. Firing up the machinery and with
radio blaring, I opened the gate to the holding yard where the herd had
patiently assembled.
The Cows stood eyeballing me with their big brown eyes as though
suspicious of my intentions and purpose. Not one moved.
'Oh, come on? I cried out, at a loss to what I would do next.
It worked. I must have looked strange to them dressed as I was, more like
an office clerk masquerading as farmer Brown in gumboots. Perhaps they
recognised my voice or scent laced with overtones of Old Spice
aftershave. Slowly, and with a last suspicious glance in my direction,
the cows filed through the open gate with those ahead of the line, taking
a place in a vacant stall. The herd were unsettled still, but with a
little coaxing, one by one they were relieved of their burden and
released to amble their merry way back to pasture. I was part way through
the milking when suddenly Allan followed by two others, appeared into the
yard.
'I?m sorry I?m late. Time got away. Sorry ?.? said Allan trying his best to
redeem himself. He looked unsteady on his feet as he leaned heavily on a
railing. His two accompanying youthful bodyguards looked on in silence.
'These are Mals and Gracies boys. ?This is Henry? Pointing to one of the
lads. ?And this is Elvis?. Bloody hell, Elvis had entered the building
catching me unawares and with my hand on the teat of a practical
stranger!
?They bought me home?.
I could read between the lines. One drove Allan home in the Land Rover
while the other followed in the rescue car. Their escape plan for home.
?Great to meet you guy?s? I called while I retrieved the suction cups from the
udder of yet another satisfied customer.
Both Henry and Elvis waved their acknowledgement with a half-hearted ?Good
to meet you too. We?ll be off now?. With the shaking of Allan?s hand, they were
gone.
?Good lunch? I called to Allan.
?The best? he said wavering slightly on his feet. ?Amazing family. Had the best
time?. It was obvious. He was pissed.
?Ill come down?. Allan called back from the railing.
?Im fine. You just fill me in on your day. Im nearly done here?. And I was.
Only a few occupied stalls remained.
With the last cow through the yard, I was done. Allan set about with the
usual routine check of the milk holding Vats and machinery while I
attended to the washing of the suction cups and hosing down of the yard.
Job done, we set off for the house.
We stood at the back door while Allan fumbled with a bunch of keys. Time
ticked by, waiting, waiting. Finally, the door was open. We had barely
gotten through the door, when Allan was on me. Lips crushing upon mine. ?Im
fucking horny. Wanna fuck. Fucking horny all day?.
The prominent log extending down his trouser leg lay witness to that.

Oh yeah baby, He was horny!!!