Richard's rugged hands jerked a few times at a deeply rooted weed to loosen the soil before gripping the plant by its thick base. His impressively toned arms tense as he pulls hard, wrenching the weed from the ground within moments. By light, his work out in the searing heat over the unyielding soil strained his body, and by dark, his diligent studying over what books he could borrow to try for a profession in law drained his mind. While Richard works exceedingly hard and often comes home tired and famished, he remains his wife's loving and faithful husband, and even when in town during his rare moments of off-time, he maintains his discipline and responsibilities. His wife, Jane, for her part, finds any work she can in town, and always makes sure to take care of the house and keep her husband well-fed and healthy.
A mysterious figure from deep within the woods surrounding Richard's farm watches him toil over his plants, marveling at the rippling muscles and gleaming sweat all over his body. The being knows something that even Richard's wife doesn't know: he's been struggling with his needs, specifically ones of the most deviant nature. Richard had fallen in love with Jane when he was young, too young to familiarize himself with the nature of his lust and just how far it deviated from the fairer sex. Though he loved Jane's company, Richard just couldn't help pausing occasionally during his work, especially when it reached the scorching hours of noontime and he found himself so very close to those woods. The dense cover of the leaves offered him a convenient place to hide from the harsh sunlight, and the thick columns of tree trunks provided him with some privacy.
On days like this one, the bulky farmer would walk a fair way into the forest, his mind gradually building in tension between the desire to indulge himself for a time and his tortured guilt for what he knew he was about to do. Today, however, was different. The thoughts plaguing Richard's brain proved far more perverse than usual. The guilt-ridden man found himself plunging deeper into the forest than he had ever gone before, his desires and disgust having both been aggravated. Needless to say, he wanted to be as well hidden as he could possibly be, for he knows that what he is about to do will bring him shame greater than anything he had dared to indulge in before.
Making his way behind the base of an especially fat tree trunk, Richard stripped off his sturdy overalls and his underwear, laying the garments down on the ground so that he could take a break and dry off all that moisture that had accumulated under all his garments. Little did he know that the entity, who stood in the shadows not a few meters away, was currently basking in the potent musk of his body, as well as appreciating the hints of arousal building in his cock as it began to rise in response to the now deafening need that was scratching at Richard's mind.
As usual, the anguished farmer finally relented, letting all his walls down as he reached for his dick, allowing that lust to overwhelm his senses and reason. His hand gripped the soft, moist skin of his penis as he began to pump the appendage up and down, up and down, until a few drops of clear liquid emerged from the slit on the cock's head. Richard could hear himself groaning blissfully, though at this point, his mind was more focused on the subject of his fantasy than on his physical body.
The image of a young man with pearly white skin, autumn red hair, and a slender build that indicated a life far more delicately led than the one he's used to. Clarence, his dear friend, dressed in his typical clerical robe, gazed up into his eyes adoringly. Richard had met him during one of his rare trips into town. While Clair, as he was known to his friends, was not but a year younger than Richard, who was himself in his mid-twenties, he already seemed to have the wisdom and compassion of someone far older, traits that made him quite excellent at his occupation as a pastor. He had even gained some local fame recently when he had managed to save a poor young lady who had nearly drowned down by the nearby river. For a few days, the townspeople were practically swarming around Clair's humble little church, lavishing him with praise and recognition for his good deed. Richard and Jane had been so relieved for the victim, and so happy for their friend, who would spend hours tirelessly spreading the good word to all the people that had come to listen.
It was days later, when the fervor had begun to die down, that Richard had taken his friend out to dinner. It was such a special occasion after all, and if there was ever a time to splurge a little, why not then?
And yet, after they had finished their filling meal of steak and potatoes, Clair began to weep, his sobs drawing his friend to his side. Between tears, the pastor cried to his companion that he didn't deserve such lavish rewards, so intolerably selfish was his motive for his good deeds. He further confessed that during his college days, the death of a poor friend due to an accident at the slaughterhouse he worked had alerted him to the plights of those less privileged than him. Agonizing over how he had chosen to remain ignorant until the problems of the world came knocking on his door, he had abandoned his education to pursue what he hoped would help compensate for his inaction, something that would help relieve this burning void that he had been left with since that tragedy.
"I can't begin to know what you feel," Richard had told his friend as he affectionately patted him on the back, "But you, of all people, should feel confident in yourself. You cared so deeply and felt so compelled to act that you gave up your life as you knew it to do good for the world."
