Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2017 20:09:19 +0000
From: John <bokjay123@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hay Making - 1 of 1 - Beginnings

Hay-Making by Bokjay bokjay123@hotmail.com

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Hay Making

(The annual harvesting of grass for use as winter-feed for cattle)

For many years I helped with the annual haymaking on my best friend's farm.
I shouldn't have done though seeing as how I had hay fever, which always
caught up with me later on in the night.  But my mate needed as much help
as he could get.  All the farmers in the district were doing the same
thing, so it was not always easy to find people.

My mate, Alan, had been landed with all the farm work after his father had
passed away leaving his mother and younger sister.  He loved the life, but
it wasn't for me getting up for six in the morning to milk and having a
late finish doing the same in the evening.  Then there was haymaking when
work was almost round the clock if the weather was good, trying to finish
before the rain came and spoiled the crop.  Whatever we did together, his
work around the farm came first.

Anyway this year the weather had been kind and all the fields had been cut
and everything was dried nicely.  The only cloud on the horizon was the
forecast of rain in the next two days, so the race was on to get it all in
the barn before then.  But for this weekend, it was absolutely perfect, not
a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind.

Being weekend and great weather, plenty of kids had come around as for them
it was always a fun job if nothing else.  They were about 8 of them ranging
from 10 up to 14 or so, coming and going throughout the day.  My mate's
only regular "working" hand was Martin, who helped out in the evenings and
weekends whenever he could.  His regular job was at the garage in the
village, and I would guess him to be around 19 years old by the look of
him.  He had been on the farm at haymaking time ever since I had met Alan,
which would have been five or six years, so I'd seen him around since a
schoolboy.

He was no model, but you would say he was a "looker".  Around five eight in
height, not big built, but well made and a tight slim body.  His shoulders
were strong with all the physical work, but on the other hand, his waist
must have been something like 28 inches.  For me, the most striking feature
was his jet-black straight hair and really long eyelashes.  I don't know
why but I had a thing for black hair, most people where I came from
including me, were blond/brownish types.

Although I visited the farm almost every weekend and had seen Martin as I
said, for years, I had never spoken to him except for a nod and a hello.
Now we were working together there still wasn't much to say.  He was always
"on the job" and never stood still long enough to get a sentence out, never
mind a conversation.  That applied to Alan too when he was working.

At around 9 o' clock on that evening, the field had almost been cleared of
bales.  There was just one trailer left to do which we could manage before
it got dark.  But being already late, the rest of the helpers went down
with the tractor and once unloaded, would be off to their homes.  Alan
asked if Martin and I could stay to do the last load, as between the three
of us it was not too much to manage.

Alan set off with the tractor at walking pace, careful with the loaded
trailer going down the hill. The kids played and laughed as they walked
alongside back to the barn.

Martin and I had some bales to pull together to a loading spot before we
could stop for a rest and wait for the returning tractor.  The round trip
would take about 45 minutes, so there was enough time to catch our breath.

When there was nothing left to do but wait, we both sat down and leant
against the stack of bales.  Martin lit a cigarette and I took a swig of
the homemade lemonade that was the instant thirst quencher.

He slouched against the bale staring at the sky, which had taken on a red
glow in the twilight. It was a beautiful evening, one where you wished you
could be somewhere special and not humping bales of hay, but still, it was
beautiful.

Martin wore only some very old cut-off jeans and boots. Being slouched
against the bale, you could see the waist had enticingly opened away from
his stomach.  He looked so good!

"Alan mentioned you were having problems with your girlfriend," I said,
trying to strike up a conversation.

I had seen him out with her a few weeks before in a pub, and he seemed to
be getting on fine then.  I'd heard they would be engaged soon, but Alan
had mentioned that there was trouble now.

"Yeah, every bugger heard about us now," he said a bit sorrowfully.

"I only got it from Alan that you had fallen out, nothing more," I said,
not wanting to tread on any toes.

"Oh, we've finished, for good this time."

I didn't really want to hear about his problems, but I did want to talk
with him.

"So what happened?" I asked, "I thought you two were almost married?"

"I just got fed up with everything that's all, like it wasn't her I was
getting engaged too, it was her mother.  She was the one who decided
everything.  I'd say, are we going out tonight, and she would go and ask
her bleeding mother!  Mother this and mother that.  I thought this wouldn't
be any marriage with her mother sticking her nose into everything we did.
No, invited into everything, by her. We had lots of arguments about it, but
I've had enough, quits!"

Well, I sure had the story now.

"Sorry to hear, I really thought you were two birds in love."

He laughed.  After all this time of nothing much said between us, now he
was talking like I was a good mate.

"In fact, I heard from someone that she was already in the family way and
you had had to get married."

Martin guffawed loudly at my gossip.  He leaned really close to my face
like he was going to whisper.

"That were another thing that really got me, she didn't let me touch her,
said she had to save it for the wedding night."

I was quite surprised by this revelation.  Martin was a looker as I said,
and being 19 and having a regular girl for some time, I was amazed he
wasn't actually getting any!

"I think she'd have to ask her mom before we did it, even if we were wed,"
he joked.

I just couldn't resist, he had my attention now.

"So what have you been doing, you know, like for relief?"

He grinned at me and then looked at his crotch.  My gaze followed his.  As
if part of the answer, he grabbed his dick beneath the fabric and shook it
like scolding an animal.

"The only "relief",... he emphasised my word, "I've been getting is with my
right hand.  But nice and regular, mind!"

He chuckled and nudged me.

"That's the worst," he continued, "I'm a horny fucker and it needs lots of
attention.  The bugger stands up ten times a day, but I have to ration him
on that, can't be shooting off to the bog at work so often, can I?"

I was flabbergasted.  Here is this good-looking guy, well known around the
village as one for the girls and he was not making out at all. You would
have imagined him to be the local stud.

Speechless, I couldn't think of a suitable reply.  He just looked at me
grinning like a cheeky kid.  He broke the silence.

"Well you must do it too, everybody does it don't they?"

"Well yes, I do," I said, getting my wits back, "but nothing like ten times
a day, more like once or twice."

He laughed again, "But you're a big sod, bet yours takes some handling.
Mine, well I'm a skinny runt and my cock's the same, just always randy!"

I know I'm tall, a little over six foot, and big against Martin, but I
wasn't that big. Neither was he skinny.  I noticed his hand had gone back
to his crotch and the loose material was now stretched tight.  The idea
that he was hard just by talking of dicks and jerking off made me harden up
too, till I had to shuffle a bit to ease my underwear from nipping.

"You have a bird then?" he asked.

"Not really, just one I go out with now and again, more like good friends
than a girlfriend.  But a good enough friend to jump into bed now and
again."

"So we are birds of a feather, and our best friends are our right hands!"

"Yes, I guess you could say that," I agreed.

We both laughed.  What a weird turn of events, here laid against a hay bale
on this wondrous summer evening, and we were talking about jacking off like
a couple of furtive school boys.

When I took my eyes from the sky where I had been absorbed thinking, I
noticed Martin's hand was under the waist of his shorts, his fingers busy
kneading at his cock, but almost unconsciously on his part.

I nudged him, bringing him from his reverie.

"Is this one of the ten times or is it an eleven?"

He had slouched flat on the grass with just his head propped against the
hay bale. He looked up and grinned.  "Oh I don't quite know, can't always
count so good, but I know one thing, feels like a good `un."

He dug me in the ribs with his elbow.

"How about you, your cock as big as the rest of you or what?"

"I don't know about big, I guess I'm average," I offered.

"What do you call average then?"

"Oh about 7 to 8 inches, never had a tape measure against it," I answered
truthfully.

"Shit! Me I'm average too, about 6 inches. That must be average for me
height I reckon."

Having said that, he pulled down the top of his shorts to sport the tip of
one hard cock peeping over the top of his briefs.  He looked up at me and
saw my surprise, which made him laugh again.

"Don't tell me you never seen another guy's cock? Don't believe if you said
no either."

Before I had time to answer, he took his right hand and placed it over my
crotch making me jump.  He felt the outline and did a low whistle.

"Fucking ace!  Wish I had one as big as that."

His fingers found the length as he gripped through the denim.  I throbbed
at his touch, making me feel hot from the warmth of his hand seeping
through the material.

Then he took back his hand and undid the top button on his shorts, pulling
apart the material and sending the fly buttons loudly popping.  His cock
stretched the briefs tight.

Suddenly I thought of Alan coming back.  On my haunches, I peered over the
bales towards the farm.  I could see they were still only halfway unloaded.

"Don't worry about them, they won't be back for half an hour yet,"
realising I had panicked.

I turned and slid down onto the grass once more to find Martin had his cock
out and his briefs pushed down his thighs.

"See, what I runt I am with this?"

Far from a runt, he had a good-sized cock, and if it was "only" six inches,
then it was also thick too.

Quickly engrossed in what he was doing, I told him that he was the owner of
a good package.  But whether for effect or not, he didn't seem to want to
believe.

"Let's have a look at yours then, can't see much when it's hidden under
there."

Somewhat embarrassed, I unzipped and eased them down like he had done.  He
leaned into me, expectantly waiting while I revealed my glory.  Slowly,
thinking again whether this was a good idea or not, I peeled down my briefs
and my hard cock popped out of its restriction.

"Fucking hell, that's some cock you got there, fuck me!!!"  Martin clearly
admired what was before him.

"Can I?" He looked up at me, asking by expression if he could feel.  I just
nodded.

He put his hand gingerly upon it, making me jump at the first contact.
More bravely, he gave a squeeze, weighing it in his hand.

"Fucking hell!" he said again.  "That's no average cock or I'm a Chinaman!"

He leant closer still, his arm across my stomach and his face not more than
a foot away till I could feel his warm breath across my groin.  My cock
throbbed painfully.

Clearly, he was mesmerised.  Far from asking me if I'd not seen another's
cock before, I wondered if in fact, he had.

He sat back up and grabbed his own. "No comparison, not by a long chalk."

"You know what they say, it's not how big but how you use it that counts."
I ventured.

"You're right, but you're not telling me a little extra on the inches
doesn't help!  See, feel that!"

He grabbed my hand and put it on his cock for me to affirm what he'd
said. I took and weighed it as he had done mine.  It was a rod of steel,
much harder than how my own seemed to be, but the outer covering was smooth
and soft.  To my touch it twitched and pulsed, making me quite excited to
handle it.

In the few moments I held, he reached back to take mine, squeezing the
shaft and slowly pulling the skin up and down.  I felt that I should follow
his example.  To make it easier, he shuffled up close, our touching skin
doing nothing but heighten the electricity building between us.

"Bet you got big balls as well?" he asked.

Side by side he could not reach easily, so he kind of leaned across my
stomach once more.  In doing so I had to let go of his cock.  He realised
that I would not be able to hold him in that position so he shuffled around
so that I could reach whilst he could examine my balls and cock more
closely.

"You've got balls like a fucking bull," he said, full of admiration at this
new discovery.

I cupped his, they were small, hairless and soft, literally like two little
eggs.  Mine were a bit hairy and I liked the difference between us.

Up till this point, it was all a bit academic as far as I was concerned and
certainly, that's what I thought Martin felt too.  But there is only so
much handling of a cock, especially by someone else, that you can take
before something else takes over.  Just about now, that point came.

He was in awe, and one hand was not enough.  Leaning further, he had his
left-hand cup my balls whilst his right took hold of my cock.

"I tell ya, I wish I had equipment like this.  I reckon I'd be really
popular around here," he said almost to himself.

I'd certainly seen bigger in films so never considered my own as being
anything special, but it was really nice to get such compliments.

"Don't worry about it," I assured, "I bet you're the stud, you already said
how horny you always were.  You got enough for anybody, so there's nothing
to complain about."

"Yeah, just wish....."  he said quietly.

His right hand had got into a rhythm like a slow hand job, but enough to
set that tingling feeling going deep down inside.  Involuntarily, I hunched
against his hand and he automatically took it as a sign to give more
attention.  I tried to stifle a groan of pleasure, but it was no good.  I
liked what he was doing.

He turned to look at me and laughed when he saw the look of ecstasy on my
face.

"You're not doing such a bad job yourself either. Any hand beside your own
is great and you are doing just fine for me."

It made me a bit embarrassed to think I was jacking him off, but I didn't
want to stop, not now. He shuffled even closer and swung around so that we
were almost head to groin.  Now I could play with his balls and cock with
both hands like he was doing.

He was enjoying as much as I, for he also began to hunch into me, so I
speeded up the pace for him a little.

"Oh yes, that's good! Just how I like it".  He didn't look up though, just
spoke into my cock and I could feel the warmth of his breath wafting over
my dick.

Tingling sensations had come out of my inner depths and were now working
their way down the length of my cock.

"Martin, I'm really enjoying this, but that means I'm going to come pretty
soon."

"Yeah, me too.  Its only natural," he said as if I was stupid.

"Yes, but you are so near, you might get a face full if you don't watch
it," I warned.

"What's a little cum between friends?" he laughed.

He turned to me and asked, "Never tasted cum then, haven't you?"

"No, something I've never tried," I said, a bit annoyed at the distraction.

"Me, often take a taste of my own, not bad either, even if I say so myself.
Bet you get a fucking bucketful of juice out of this though."

He turned back to watching intently and thankfully resuming his strokes.

"You might be right on that one, so be warned."  I didn't want him getting
upset if I came all over his face.

"Ney lad, don't worry about me, I'm not frightened by a bit of
juice. Besides, bet yours is all cream from a cock like this."

I'd warned him and he didn't seem to be bothered so why should I.  I was
enjoying and past the point of caring now.

I grunted again and humped into his hand.

"Oh yeah, come on, let's see this baby boil," he said, and increased the
speed a notch.

I did likewise and he made an appreciative grunt himself, moving up closer
still so that the middle sections of our bodies were in full contact.

I liked the feel of his balls and stroked and gently pinched the skin as my
other hand began to jack him pretty fast.  He matched my pace and all too
soon, I began to feel a little lightheaded.  I closed my eyes and drowned
in pornographic images whilst to add another dimension, I could now smell
the close sex of Martin, filling up my senses.

"Martin, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum soon".

I was sure I could feel his breath, blowing like a furnace across my dick,
as he had got so close.  It was more than I could stand.  Intending to warn
him that I was about to blow, I grunted but words did not follow.  A tidal
wave swept from my cock up through my body and choked off any further
sound.

My climax was so intense, I knew I was bucking my hips up off the grass,
writhing as the orgasm came over me.

I heard Martin say something like "Fuck, here it comes! Wow, look at that
load," then I lost hold of the moment as Martin did something I couldn't
quite work out, but which felt like an electrical charge blast through me.
I grabbed him as if to stop myself from falling, but from what I had no
idea, just that was the feeling.  I think I must have pulled him closer by
his dick though because I know I didn't let go.

I was aware Martin had stiffened up, I could feel the tightness of his body
as he pressed heavily into mine.  Instinct told me he was going to come and
I quickly increased the speed of my hand jacking his dick.  He grunted,
spasmed and then cried out.  I felt his cock harden even further and pulse
heavily.

His body wracked violently against mine.  Suddenly my face became wet and
not realising what it was, I opened my eyes.  His cock was inches from my
face and spurting great globs of cum.  As he writhed, his groin pressed
hard against my face, letting me taste his juice as it pumped out of his
cock and across my face.  The humping slowed as his orgasm waned.
Intoxicated by the strong smell of juice running over my face and lips, I
took a taste.  It was sweet and sharp, at the same time.  The thought
flashed of a Chinese dish I'd had at a local restaurant.

I stuck out my tongue to the head of his dick and licked across.  I heard
or rather, felt a response as he gave a moan. The vibration came back
through my cock.  Martin had my cock in his mouth!  I leant an inch forward
letting the head of his slide through my lips.  He gave another groan and
pushed his hips forward, burying his still hard cock to the back of my
throat.

We stayed like that for quite some time.  I was running my tongue over his
dick, wondrous at making this new taste discovery, savouring the last drops
oozing out.  Martin was gently sucking my cock, keeping me hard, which was
most unusual after I had come.

In the far distance, I heard Alan gunning the tractor engine as he climbed
the hill out of the farmyard.

Slowly we pulled apart and sat up. Martin looked at me and grinned.

"Fucking ace man, fucking ace!"

We pulled our shorts up and then wiped off all the telltale signs of cum
from each other's faces, grinning and laughing like idiots.  He fed the
biggest globs to my lips and I did the same with what remained of my own on
his face.

Soon Alan arrived and we made haste to get the trailer loaded before
darkness came.  By headlights, Alan drove back to the farm and we sat up on
the top of the trailer.

"Fancy a pint after we get this unloaded?" Martin asked quietly.

"No," I said.

He looked at me, his face had a questioning hurt.

"I fancy two or three actually," I shot back.

He dug me in the ribs, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

That was it, our first time, but not the last by a long chalk. But for
more, it has to be another story.



The End

I hope you enjoyed this short one, any comments are welcome to John --
bokjay123@hotmail.com