Date: Sun, 18 Jul 2021 11:26:29 +1200 From: Ben Highlander Subject: My Brother's Keeper-Reality Sets In. Big Time Why not donate to nifty? They do so much to keep us happy. https://donate.nifty.org/ _____________________________ My Brother's Keeper 4 - Reality Sets In. Big Time "But I am not a farmer! I know nothing about farms and I have no desire to learn!" Freek looked at me across the breakfast table, his eyes kind and understanding. He opened his mouth to speak but Shawnie got in first. "Don't worry Dawie, Freek and I have it all in hand." "Be quiet and get ready for school, Farmer Brown..." Freek chuckled as he cast his eyes to the heavens. "...and, you mean Í have it all in hand, and you are just good at taking all the credit!" "I do my fair share. I was up at dawn this morning to make sure the milking happened, and I was up all night last week when that calf was born breach. Moenie voorgee dat ek lyf wegsteek nie!" (Literally-Don't pretend that I hide my body, i.e. don't do my share.) Shawnie's voice betrayed that he was feeling defensive and David was glad the focus was diverted from him. He was interested to see what would happen between the farm manager and the teenager. But he needn't have worried. "Shawnie, you do a lot on the farm. I know this place is very important to you. I saw how you tended the first few sheep that your father gave to you, and I knew then that you were born to do this," Freek said, his voice reassuring and kind. I jumped in. "You see, that's the difference between you and me, Shawnie," I said. "You feel something for this life. All I can think of when I'm here, is when I can get back to my real life. There is nothing about staying up all night with a calf that attracts me." Shawnie's eyes bored into mine, his passion obvious to me. "It doesn't attract me, David, but it needs to be done. This farm is our livelihood. It is putting me through school and is my future. This farm gave me a home when I had no home." I felt shame flood my face. Freek cleared his throat and pushed his chair back. "Well, Shawnie, you need to get down the road to the school bus, and I must get to the farm work. Those fence posts will not repair themselves. David, will you be coming along to help me? You don't have to, there are enough helpers on the farm, but it would be good to have a friendly person to talk to. You can tell me about the business you built up in Johannesburg." Shawnie grabbed his bag and went up to Freek and gave him a big hug. "I'll see you later, little man," the burly farmer said softly, and again, I wondered what kind of relationship they had. The hug lasted a good few seconds and Freek put his chin on Shawnie's head as if he would be hard-pressed to wait for him to see him again. "Bye, David," Shawnie said when he was released from the bear hug, as he came up to me to hug me as well. "Don't let this Boer (farmer) bully you into doing anything you don't want to do. All he thinks about is saving a few Rands, and he doesn't care which SLAVE LABOUR he uses to do it!" Our hug was less intense and quite brotherly. He kissed me on the cheek and giggled. "Get out of here you little shit," Freek said as he lunged at Shawnie, who screeched with laughter and flew out of the door, slamming it behind him. His raucous cackles could be heard as he ran down the driveway. "So what will it be, Dawie? Again, no pressure, I have all the help I need." The choice loomed over me. I was trapped between the antipathy for farm work that gripped every fibre of my body and the fondness (and guilt) I felt towards this wonderful friend of my family. "If you don't mind, Freek, I am going to give it a miss. Honestly, I feel tired to the bone. I need to think and, as much as I appreciate what you do here, I can't find it in me at the moment to get involved." "Completely understood. You take all the time you need. I use the farm to process my feelings. I'll see you later when we come back for morning tea." He left his bachelor's dwelling and I heard the bakkie door spam and he and the farmworkers on the back disappeared with a crunch of tyres and a trail of dust. Silence settled on me like a shroud. For the second time in two days, I felt I could cut the stillness with a knife. Just the occasional dog barking and cow's moo broke the silence. My Mind went to the events of yesterday. The funeral. And my drive with Hennie. My ass still remembered the hiding he had given me. My dick got hard again and a silent smile came to my mouth. Our kisses had started sadly, a memory of our first, tentative kisses before I ran away in the night so long ago. But slowly our passion had increased. I didn't even know why I kissed Hennie since I had never thought of another man in a sexual way. I had lots of girlfriends in Johannesburg, and I'd fucked them readily. I had never enjoyed kissing them much, I realised now. But when I had kissed Hennie, it felt like I was baring my soul, sharing my heart. The sorrow of the last week's sudden ripping departure from Johannesburg after the private detective had tracked me down in the big city; the arrival back in Gatsrand (asshole ridge) and the meeting with my adopted brother and Freek, my first victim and now our farm manager and possibly Shawnie's lover; and then the reuniting with the townspeople of Lindley, the small town where my parents had made their lives and built their dreams; the dull ache of burying my Ma and Pa; these had all culminated in the sense of homecoming when I was in Hennie's arms. That was all we had done, although both of us were hard and leaking, as we'd shared with each other when our passion abated and we started talking again. I debated silently whether to ease the aching erection in my sweatpants. It felt good to touch myself and think of what made me horny. I pictured all the girls I'd fucked in Jo'burg. There were some really hot ones, particularly one black girl, Ntombi, who had tight tits and an even tighter ass and pussy. I stuck my hand in the waistband of my track pants and cupped my balls, rolling them gently in the palm of my hand. I pulled them down, the way I knew always enhanced my orgasm when I jacked off. I needed some relief. The past few days, living with Freek and Shawnie, and with the events which brought me to Lindley had distracted me from something I usually did at least once a day, much as every man in the world, as far as I knew. I pulled my cock out of my sweats and hitched the waistband under my balls. I gripped the shaft and slid the foreskin backwards, exposing the shiny head of my pride and joy. A shimmering globule of precum peeled out of the pouting foreskin as it revealed the piss slit. I caught it on my finger and pulled it away from the glans, creating a pendulous connection between the tip of my cock and fingertip. The trail of precum snapped as I brought it to my lips and sucked the sweet liquid onto my tongue. I started to slowly jack my supple foreskin backwards and forwards over my dick, the sheath sliding smoothly along the shaft of my penis. I closed my eyes and threw my head backwards as I tried to conjure pictures of what I did with Ntombi to my mind's eye. The Images of her gleaming black body would appear but then would slip away again like mist before the sun. Each time I thought I had managed to trap a moment of passionate abandon with her, to serve as fodder for my canon, it would slide away, elusive and provocative. A frown creased my brow as I intensified my concentration, trying to build the intensity required to propel me towards cumming. I was just about to give up when I heard the distinctive squeak of a rubber sole on the highly polished floor. My eyes flew open and I stared straight into the equally startled eyes of Mpho, the black house worker. His mouth was frozen in a silent "O" and he was poised comically, one leg in front of the other, a bucket in one hand and a mop in the other. "Hau, sorrie mister Dawie!" he said, awe and embarrassment in his tone. I was likewise frozen, my still leaking dick in my hand, the head exposed and wetly throbbing. He may have been "sorrie", but his eyes were nailed to my nether nakedness. "Uh...siyabona, Mpho, unjani" (I see you, Mpho, how are you-Zulu) I ventured, acutely aware of the ridiculousness of exchanging a polite greeting with my weeping dick in my hand. "Ngiyaphila wena?" (I am well, and you?) he answered, now bound to complete the absurd ritual, to be polite. "Kulungile ngiyabonga," (I am fine, thank you) I countered. I was acutely aware of his handsomeness. His gleaming black skin covered a body that screamed masculine virility. He had high cheekbones and intelligent, expressive eyes above a voluptuous mouth that was so characteristic of his race. His head perched proudly on a neck that promised, and delivered, broad, muscle and sinew-invested shoulders that led to a chest, which, even through the crisp white uniform T-shirt he wore, showed the ledge of pecs that wouldn't be out of place in a men's sports magazine. His narrow hips led to the pouch of his soft utility shorts where something in his pants was rapidly growing. To finish, if I could rip my eyes away from his crotch, his legs were thick and muscular, his thighs trunk-like above thick, muscled calves. He looked like a black amateur wrestler. "I'm so sorry Mpho, I should have locked the door." Absurdly I was sitting at the kitchen table having a morning wank, and he most likely wouldn't have barged into the bedroom and certainly wouldn't have expected a wanker in the kitchen. "It is a beautiful white snake Mr Dawie," he said in a hushed tone. "So...pink," he enthused. "Mine is very different..." he concluded and I thought I detected a suggestion that he would be prepared to show me just for purposes of comparison, you know? "Show me, if you want," I found my mouth saying softly, and I felt the same breathless anticipation at the discovery of difference that I remembered when beholding Ntombi for the first time. He put down the bucket and mop and his squeaking rubber soles heralded his way to me. He stood in front of me in his glorious masculinity. I reached forward and undid the drawstring of his work pants. He bent down and in one move, pulled down his shorts to his knees. He straightened up and pulled his shirt up as he did so. His cock hit his ripped abdomen with a wet "thwack." It was very different from mine. Looking up at his handsome face, I reached forward. He nodded slightly. With my left hand still gripping my own member, I could barely wrap my right hand around his thick, veined black snake. It lurched in my hand as he involuntarily contracted his abs at my touch. It was warm and silky to the touch. I let go of my own dick and leaned forward to gently cup his balls. He gave a small gasp at my touch. The pouch was loose and his knackers were large and heavy. I gently fondled the weighty orbs as I slowly slid my hand up his pipe, more exploring than stimulating. "Wait," he said, stepping out of his shorts and turning towards the back door. He locked it and swiftly made his way to the front door, also locking it. He was back in a second. "Can I touch your white mamba?" he quizzed, as he approached me. I stood up and he knelt down in front of me. His beautiful black eyes looked up at me as he gently mimicked my actions before, cupping my balls and encircling my cock with his hand. "It is biiig, and beautiful." He opened his mouth and licked from my balls all the way up along my shaft to the tip. He pulled it down, peeling the foreskin back and took the resulting crystalline drop that burped out of the tip, on his tongue. "A lot like Mr Hennie's," he volunteered. "But his snake is even bigger."