A Summer at the Farm

Blake agrees to spend the summer at Joe's farm to lend a helping hand to his girlfriend's father and make a few bucks. That sounds like the perfect plan for his jealous girlfriend. Stuck at the farm, Blake will not cheat on her while she is away... If only she knew!

All characters featured in the story are above 18.

This story is entirely fictionnal and only meant to be read by a mature audience, and in any case, by people over the age of 18.

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A SUMMER AT THE FARM

Chapter 2: The bathrobe

I arrived at the farm around 10pm.

It was the end of June in the middle of Utah, meaning that it was hot as hell, even at this hour. It was one of the hottest summers in years.

Climate change is real, guys.

I was heavily sweating underneath my tank top.

The Peterson family had been cultivating wheat for a few generations and even though the farm had lost some of its former glory, Olivia's father had managed to keep it a flourishing business by diversifying its activities.

During summer, as I would find out, Joe would mostly work on fixing up the machines, taking care of the chickens and the goats he owned, and selling the wheat harvested during the spring. There was always something to do.

In the busiest periods of the year, he could have up to three guys working for him. But that summer, it was only me.

The place looked beautiful. An imposing, but quite old, house was surrounded by fields on all sides, extending further than the eyes could see.

Not a single neighbour in sight.

I knocked at the front door, nervous. Once. Twice.

I waited a little. I knocked for a third time.

Was he already asleep? Or passed-out drunk somewhere in the house? Joe barely used his cell-phone and Olivia was in a plane, flying off to another continent.

I was semi-regretting to have agreed to come when I finally heard some noise inside.

The door opened.

"Evening' boy, been waiting here for a long time?"

Joe Peterson was even more impressive than I remembered.

He stood tall above the step of the front door, - normally, he was only a few inches taller than me but with the damn step, he had a good fifteen inches on me -, and my eyes were at his upper-chest level.

He was wearing a loosely closed bathrobe. Everything was pretty much on display. His large pecs. His hairy nipples. Even down to his bushy treasure trail.

My eyes looked down towards his junks and I had to force myself to look back up.

"I... I just got here..."

"Was in the shower. I thought I heard someone." He patted my back. "Sorry boy, I'm still a little wet."

His short but roughly taken care of beard and his hair were wet indeed, droplets were falling on his robe... and on his furry chest.

"That's fine."

"Eh, come in! Don't stay on the porch like an idiot."

I finally walked on the step to go inside the house and we hugged awkwardly.

I think I felt his cock pressing against my own crotch. Also, his hands were way too close to my ass.

Joe was not one to care about these kinds of details.

"I did not think I would arrive this late but Liv's plane got delayed and I waited with her at the airport." I explained.

"You did good not leaving before her. I still cannot believe you let her go so far away for three months."

"I mean... It was her choice; I did not want to..."

"Yeah, yeah, of course, it's 2024, women are free."

He walked to his living room. I knew the place a bit but I had to readjust myself. The fact that Joe was barely naked was not helping me to relax.

"You know Olivia is an independent girl." I spoke.

"Sure, just like her mother."

He turned around and I got the confirmation that his dick was almost fully out of his robe.

I could see his foreskin fapping against his hairy thigh, hanging low. So low in fact that I realized his cock must have been huge! I could not see the base but there was already a huge piece of flaccid meat before my eyes.

Fuck. Why did I have to stare? I was going to look like such a freak!

Can you imagine if Joe Peterson though his future son-in-law was a homo or a pervert?

"Where should I put my stuff?" I asked.

"The guest bedroom is upstairs, right next to the bathroom and my own room."

"I left my luggage in the car, I'll get them."

"Let me come with ya."

"I just have a couple of bags, that's fine. I mean, you're..."

He sat down on a chair, grabbed a pair of black boots and spread his legs.

Ok, with the intense man-spreading, there was no doubt that he had a HUGE cock. And it was fully on display!

I was hung myself and there were a couple of black dudes in the football team we were calling "horses", but none of them measured up to Mr. Peterson's tool dangling between his legs.

I had never seen anything like it.

I swear, his flaccid cock was bigger than the majority of cocks when they are erected. And I am talking about big cocks here, like pornstars' calibre!

He shoved his equally impressive large bare feet in the boots -- size 13, ouch! -- (no socks needed apparently), and still only wearing his bathrobe, he stood up.

"What?" He said, or rather, barked at me.

"I... Nothing, sorry. Ok... Let's go."

Having him walking out in his bathrobe and boots was quite something to see. But I guessed that he did not care, it was not like he had any nosy neighbour after all.

He picked up the bigger bag from the truck and let me grab the smaller one.

Already, I was feeling inferior.

Maybe he was just trying to show he was the stronger male among the two of us. Maybe even showing off his dick was premeditated to assert his dominance. In any case, he did not need to do any of that, I knew my place in the hierarchy already!

"Come on, boy, follow me up the stairs."

I obliged.

What the hell was I doing there, in the middle of nowhere?! Damn Olivia and her masterful blowjobs, I should have never agreed to this!

"So, this is your room."

It was the room where we slept with Olivia the couple of times we spent the week-end at his father's place.

Nothing too fancy but the bed was good enough and the room came with a large window and a nice view of the fields. No air conditioning though. The nights were warm.

I knew from experience you could hear Mr. Peterson snoring in his own room nearby despite the fact that it was separated by the bathroom.

The bathroom situation was the most annoying part of the living arrangement.

There were two doors to get in but none of which was situated in the main corridor. You could access it either from Mr. Peterson's, or from my own bedroom. Olivia and I were never confident enough to have sex in the super large shower because we were too scared his dad would hear us from his room, or even worse, came in.

From what I recalled, there was no lock on either door.

I mean, being two dudes in there, it was not so much of a problem now, I assumed.

"Hungry?" Mr. Peterson asked.

"I could eat."

He chuckled.

"Ok, let me have a leak and I'll get you something."

"Ok, thanks."

I was about to leave when he stopped me.

He grabbed my arm, firmly. His dick dangled and almost touched me!

"Wait, you're not going to be a princess here, right? Just serve yourself in the fridge. Just act as if you were in your own home!"

He slapped my ass to make his point and turned around to reach the bathroom's door.

"Of course." I muttered.

I was not sure if this was his way to welcome me in the friendliest way, even like family, or if he was signifying that he would not "serve" me.

Trust me, I did not intend to act like a spoiled child!

Joe started pissing with the bathroom's door wide opened. I hurried down the stairs.

The fridge was filled with mostly hot dogs, beef, some chicken, and beers. Joe Peterson was not the type of guys to follow a strict diet made of vegetables. He was eating meat, like a real man.

I treated myself with a cold beer -- I definitely needed one to calm my nerves -- and a turkey sandwich.

"The crusts on the wooden floor, boy!" Mr. Peterson barked at me as he walked into the kitchen.

My heart started racing fast.

I looked down at the floor. I had made a mess... Oh no... I did not think it was that bad.

"Sorry, Sir! I... I will clean that up right away."

He laughed it off. So hard in fact that he had to hold his stomach.

For once, I could not see his dick. Well, I could barely see it, there was always some flesh poking out.

"You should see your face; I'm just kidding, pal! This place is a bachelor's pad now, there should be dirt on the floor. And I have a maid coming in every Tuesday. Never been a fan of cleaning my own mess."

To be fair, he did put dirt all over the floor with his boots.

He opened his fridge and bit into a cold chicken leg, letting some pieces fell on his hairy chest to prove his point.

"See! No big deal."

He picked up some crust from his navel and ate it.

"You got me scared here, Mr. Peterson."

"Please call me Joe." He burped loudly. "Men are way too cautious these days. It's like every male in America is turning into a God damn woman!"

I chuckled and sipped on my beer.

I definitely did not feel like I was turning into a woman but I did not say anything. I was somewhat agreeing that our society was getting way too feminized.

Mr. Peterson, or rather Joe, was sucking off his greasy finger.

"When should I wake up tomorrow morning?" I asked.

"7. I'll show you around, teach you the basics, and we'll get to work."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Don't worry, there's not much to do. I guess, I could do it all alone but eh, I like having someone around, some stuff requires two pairs of hands and it can get lonely here."

"Sure. And I'm happy to help. I'm a quick learner."

"No doubt about that, my boys always are."

He smiled at me.

My phone vibrated. It was a text from Olivia. She had just landed in London.

"Your daughter is officially in Europe." I spoke.

"At least, you don't have to worry about competing with other guys there. Brits are the most effeminate men of the whole planet! No matter what those neo-feminists say, deep down, every woman prefers to lay with a macho man, the Europeans have no shot with Liv."

"Cheers to that." I said, raising my beer.

He cheered with me.

Maybe that would not be that bad. Sometimes, I hated the big cities' way of life. Joe Peterson had not been corrupted with the politically correct way of thinking. I had always appreciated that about him.

I went to take a shower to get rid of the sweat which was making my tank top glue to my skin.

There was definitely no lock on the door but I would not be bothered, Joe knew I was in there. I pissed in the shower too.

I would usually bust a nut in the shower but I guess I was not feeling comfortable enough. Not yet. Besides, I had fucked Olivia in the car in the airport's parking lot about ten hours prior. Twice. (We had to make our goodbye count!)

When I went downstairs, I was just wearing loose long underwear. No need to be modest, I figured.

I was usually sleeping naked back at my place but if and when I was wearing something to sleep, it was this kind of comfy shit. I assumed that Joe had already gone to bed.

It was almost midnight and I thought I could watch some TV in the living room before heading off to bed myself. I took another beer.

Just to relax a little more.

I was semi-watching a movie when Joe came in ten minutes later. I did not expect him to be up so I was a bit startled and I put my empty beer on the floor.

He did not sit though, he stood right before me and stared.

There was such a weird vibe suddenly and I could not figure why.

He kept staring at me, looking annoyed.

This lasted several seconds until I finally asked:

"What's going on?"

I was genuinely confused.

"Hmm." He cleared his throat. "That's my armchair."

Was he serious? I could not tell anymore if he was kidding or not.

I tried a joke.

"I didn't see your name on it so I thought I could sit down, Joe!"

He smiled. A devilish smile slightly hidden behind his beard. For a split second, I was legit scared. At this point, his bathrobe was barely hiding anything. He knew he was flaunting his massive balls to me and he did not care.

His balls were hairy as fuck by the way. Just like the rest of his body. Thick black hair.

"You are a funny guy, Blake."

"Am I?"

He paused for a few seconds. Then he said:

"Now. Can you move so I can sit? Or would you rather have me sitting on you? Maybe you like that, eh, a fat manly bum all over ya?"

I gulped.

"Sorry, Joe."

I stood up and attempted a friendly smile.

He remained perfectly still so I had to contort my body to avoid touching him. I was only a couple inches away from his chest until I finally managed to get around Mr. Peterson to sit on the sofa.

I almost left the room, -- I definitely wanted to at this point -, but I did not want him to think that I was running away or that I was scared.

That evening, sitting on the sofa was an act of bravery.

At least, it was the story that I was telling myself.

Joe sat down on "HIS" armchair. He changed the channel, not caring that I was watching a movie.

It was impossible to read the guy.

Was he mad at me or something? I thought he was happy that I was here. Did he care so much about that fucking armchair?!

Things got worst. He spread his arms and his legs. Wide.

Now, the robe was no longer hiding a single thing. It was fully opened. His humongous dick hung freely between his hairy thighs. He was uncut.

I guessed this was just another move to show who was the boss.

I got it, dude! You're the Alpha male around here, no need to pull out your stinky hairy armpits!

No doubt, the man was exuding more than his fair share of testosterone.

I wondered if Joe fucked around with women from the area... Women in heat must have been smelling him from miles away! I started to think about Liv's mother...

He could not have remained a bachelor for more than seven years since she had passed! Not a guy like this! Not with a cock that size!

I realized that I was, once again, staring at his massive veiny dick. Shit, I focused my attention back to the screen.

Joe was watching a reality-tv show. Really unexpected from the macho farmer.

I was now forcefully watching the trashy program too.

A bunch of people were locked-up in a beautiful house with their exes and their new partners, and they needed to compete in various challenges to decide, in the end, if they would go back with their ex, or remain with their current girlfriend or boyfriend.

A perfect pile of bullshit featuring wanna-be Z-list celebs.

The episode that night mainly focused on a threesome between one girl, her ex and her current boyfriend. It had created drama among the contestants.

Joe seemed fascinated.

It was like he had forgotten that I was there. He was scratching his heavy balls, seemingly actually caring about that crap on the screen.

The man had no sense of decency at all.

Sure, Joe had always been upfront and I did not count him as a modest guy, but when Olivia was here, let's just say he was less blatant about it!

At this point, he could as well as been totally naked and fondling with his XXL dick.

A full half-hour passed and I thought it was finally time to go to sleep without me leaving looking too weird. Joe had another idea in mind though...

As I was about to stand up, he wanted to talk.

During yet another flashback to the threesome scene that occurred in the episode -, we could barely see anything as most of the action was happening under the covers -, Joe suddenly asked me:

"Have you ever done that?"

People were fucking under a blanket on the television screen.

"Sex?" I looked at him, puzzled.

He chuckled.

"No, idiot, a threesome!" He paused and then added. "With one girl and another guy! A Devil's threesome as they say in the show."

"No." I replied honestly.

He wanted to make me uncomfortable. I was trying very hard not to be. I did have sex with multiple girls at the same time but I had never involved a bro in the mix.

"Have you?" I dared asking back.

"Yeah..." He spoke. "I had a bit of fun when I was younger. Eh, not only when I was younger."

We kept on watching the show, the girl was now crying in front of the camera, she could not choose between the two guys she had fucked the night before and wanted to date both of them.

One had a great cock that she loved to take deep in her ass, but the other one was apparently great at eating her pussy.

Then, Joe spoke again.

"Blake. You do have sex with Olivia though, right?"

I started blushing.

What kind of sick question was that?!

My silence made Joe laugh at my expense, once again.

"Oh boy..." He spoke. "Relax, son. Sex is natural. There was a time when men could share those types of stories... Not everything was so sensitive!"

He smiled at me and shut his legs.

He had made his point, I guess, he was the real man in the house.

"Men can still do that. I mean, I'm part of the football team. You bet sex is pretty much all we talk about with my mates in the locker-rooms." I spoke.

I had found a way to answer the man without actually talking about sex with Olivia. Pretty smart of me, eh?

"You, naughty boys." He mumbled with a smirk.

I did not add anything.

Joe sighed when the episode ended. In the next one, two exes would hook-up together.

"I guess it's time for bed. This, my mate, is a real crappy show." He stated.

I smiled at him. We could agree on that.

"Those girls who go in these types of shows, they're the worst." I confirmed.

He stood up and came sit beside me on the sofa. What about his sacred armchair? I thought. He put his (large) hand on my thigh.

"I can call you "my mate", right? We are mates? Buddies?"

I could no longer pretend that I was comfortable.

"Of course, we're mates, Joe." I blurted out.

"Nice."

He patted my hair.

"Now, that means us two are exactly like your friends in the football team, we can tell each other anything. No need to be shy or hold back."

"Sure..."

"We're going to have a great time here at the farm."

I nodded my head yes.

Maybe I was too drunk already. Or maybe Olivia's father was really acting weird.

He let go off his grip on my thigh and he stopped patting my hair.

"Time to go to bed, we have a long day ahead tomorrow."

"You're right. Good night, Joe. Again, thanks... Thanks for everything."

"You got it."

We walked up the stairs together and the last thing I saw was his frame going into his bedroom, removing his bathrobe even before he had gone through the door.

Fat hairy ass, as expected.

Weirdly, I guessed it was the trashy girls on TV, I was in the mood when I lied onto my new bed sheets.

I played with my cock a little, it got hard rather quickly and I nutted on my chest a few minutes later. I was used to cum two, three, sometimes four times a day. I produced some heavy creamy loads, I always did.

How was it still so hot in the middle of the night in Utah?

I opened my window.

Damn, 1:30 AM, I would be tired the next day... And something was telling me that Joe Peterson would not let me rest easy.