Date: Thu, 25 Jul 2019 19:18:45 -0400 (EDT) From: Five Hole Punch Subject: The Hayfield The Hayfield It was a hot, humid, peak of summer day. In the blinding sun, I could see the boy. The pale blue of his denim bib shorts stood out in the dry yellows and pale greens of the field. He played idly in the loose hay near one of the large bales yet to be collected, there being no hurry as rain hadn't fallen in two days and wouldn't fall for another three. I walked down the slight slope. Hired on for the season at the neighboring farm a week or so earlier, I had seen the boy roaming. He swam in the tree-lined creek at the edge of the properties. We had waved silent greetings from afar. I knew then. He didn't, couldn't, yet. I came fairly near before my presence was felt. He stood with his thumbs hooked where the straps and bib met. A farm boy. Barefoot. Tall, legs smooth. Big for his age. Twelve most likely, but thirteen not six months off. "Hey." He squinted. I could see the pale blue iris of his left eye. "Hey." "Been swimmin'?" It was a statement more than a question. I could see the boy's short, dark hair was still half wet. "Yeah." How do you know? Just do, near enough I can guess. "C'mon." I went around the high rolled hay, out of sight from the field above. The boy followed. I turned. The boy stopped. I stepped close. The air was hot and still. He looked up, brows knit. Uncertainty? A little. The sun? That too. The raised corners of the boy's half open mouth - there would've been a question, but there wasn't. I raised my left hand. The boy waited. I took my fingertip and touched the smooth collar bone. He didn't flinch. I nudged the semi-taut strap over the golden, sun-browned skin. The metal buckle went askew ever so slightly as it slowly approached the rounded peak of the boy's shoulder. I halted and looked to the boy. It was the moment. I was allowed. Pushing the strap over the acme of flesh, it lost all tension as it fell. Reaching down to fit the large silver button through the semicircular fastener, I inadvertently pressed folded, gold-hemmed denim against the soft mound of the adolescent's nipple. An exhalation. We both understood that he hadn't been touched by another before now. The triangle of fabric fell in a geometry of revelation. With unhurried immediacy, I slid the other suspender down. The boy's arm slid free. Ingenuously aware of being half unclad, the lad stood without pride or shame. The sun shone from on high. Not a breeze. I stepped back. With a pull of both hands, I unsnapped my shirt downward. The boy looked on. I reached for my belt buckle and unhooked it; the blue eyes followed, widening. As I undid each button of my Levis, the first glimmer of guilt crossed the youngster's face. But, with no disapproval in the natural world, interest returned, albeit with a tight-lipped bashfulness. With a tug, I revealed my cock, dusky and hooded. A smile of pleasure. Another tug, a yank, and I freed my scrotum; hairy, and full. The smile became one of amazement. I gave deliberate stroke; my manhood engorged. Swollen to a near erect state, I slid my foreskin back, revealing a broad, purple glans to the mesmerized boy. I halted. The boy's crotch tented, painfully so. I moved forward and, while the blue eyes watched a metronomic swinging, I made for the waist of the lad. Awkwardly, I unfastened the side buttons. With reverent care, I pulled the denim back, revealing a rigid spike. Lowering the fabric to the thighs of my companion, a long, white stalk, the tip a rosy ruffle, arose from a set of just reddening balls. After a moment of inhibition, the boy gave a wide grin at his rampant state. I was adrip and Priapus called. I gave the boy a smile and an approving chuck under the chin before directing him towards the hay stack. He waddled a few steps, his buttocks bared, before his garment fell below his knees. "Step out of them." Off came my shirt and my Levis went to my knees. "Climb up." I boosted the naked boy into my arms, smooth and hot against my hairy flesh. "Put your legs around me." We went cock to cock with gasps and groans. Copious precome smeared our entwined organs as we embraced. Ecstasy swept over us both. We orgasmed breath to breath. A timeless Arcadian tableau. An idyllic aftermath. The boy learns from the man. We lay in that in that field a couple of dozen times that summer. All rights Reserved. Copyright 2019.