Chapter 7

The ride to my uncle's farm was beautiful, slow, invigorating. Iowa spring air was caressing my body. My prick still hadn't cooled completely, but then, I had never experienced things like those which had happened the past two days.

Sam, the driver of the car, my uncle's hired man, was quiet. Sam didn't appear to be the talkative type. I couldn't even tell if he liked me initially or not. He was very cordial, but not very revealing about himself. The only thing revealing about him was his size. With a lank and wiry frame, he must have stood about six feet four inches tall. The color of his skin was red-bronze; he had been in the fields a lot and his face, hands and neck were wind burned and tanned. I wanted to know as much as possible about the people I was going to be living with for the next three months, so as we rolled down the highway, I studied Sam out of the corner of my eye.

Sam was leaning slightly against the door of the car, and out the open window, a cowboy hat pushed down hard on his huge head so that only long tufts of reddish-brown hair jutted out beneath the hat around his ears and back of his head. A long narrow scar ran from beneath the brim of his hat on his right forehead, ending at his high bony cheekbone. This man was all angles -- no curves. Still, he moved like quiet water. I would catch him taking long slow glances at me out of prickling blue eyes. The sun wrinkles around those crystal clear eyes would then dance in a smile. Even when he was contemplative, simply watching the road as he drove, I noticed that the entire area around his eyes was warm and eager to dance. Finally he smiled hard at me. "Your Uncle Ross sure has been waiting impatiently for you to get here, Eric. He's been a little worried."

"Well, I'm here... nothing to have worried about as you can see." Plus, I was wiser and more experienced than the last time I had seen Uncle Ross.

Sam continued. "Well, you see your uncle is one of those men who takes his responsibilities very seriously. You're his responsibility for the summer and he will worry about you like only he is capable of doing. He's a damned good man. You're lucky having an uncle like him."

"You must like him a lot, Sam."

Sam's voice purred affectionately, "Yeah, I like him a lot."

"How long have you worked for Uncle Ross, Sam?"

"Let's see... I guess it will be about ten years this summer. Your uncle gave me a whole new life when I came to work for him."

"Are you married, Sam?"

"Nope."

"Doesn't it get awfully lonesome out here in Iowa without a wife, especially during the winter?"

"Nope, not for me."

"Don't you like women, Sam?"

"Generally no, not very much." Then he looked directly into my eyes. "How about you, Eric, do you like women?"

Sam's piercing blue eyes made me very nervous and his question made me even more so. "I don't know... I don't think so, not anymore!"

We were quiet for a long time. Sam finally turned to me casually, "Did you have a good trip out here, Eric?"

"Yes, I learned a lot on this trip... I think you would probably have enjoyed it as much as me, Sam." I was teasing; still, every seriously, I had the feeling Sam would get turned on hearing about my trip. Maybe some day I would have the opportunity to tell him about it.

In a small town about a half-hour out of Des Moines, Sam pulled into a little restaurant and offered to buy me a mid-morning snack, a ritual in this part of the country. We sat down at the counter and ordered fresh homemade lemon pie and Cokes. I had to take a piss, so excused myself before our order arrived and went into the restroom.

I checked myself over in the mirror, combed my hair, then took a piss at the urinal. I was standing there with the piss stream flowing hard when Sam walked in. Momentarily, the piss stopped flowing with the shock of seeing him there, then began to flow again.

Sam strode up to the urinal, hauled out a long meaty pecker and pissed. I could hardly take my eyes away from his prick because of the huge veins running down the shaft, plus its bulky length. His piss ran hard and steady out of the fat angular head. Sam looked over at me and smiled. "We're going to get along real well this summer, Eric, just as long as you keep that pecker of yours in your pants." Then he zipped up and went back into the restaurant. I zipped up and followed him, intrigued by what he had meant by his statement. When I got back inside the restaurant Sam was casually eating his pie and never glanced at me all the time we ate.

At the farm Uncle Ross was waiting eagerly for me. He hugged me closely and commented on how much I looked like my mother. My mother had always been his favorite sister. Uncle Ross put his arm around me and walked me into the big kitchen of the white frame house. After he served me more home-made lemon pie and milk he sat down and took me all in with his brown eyes. "Eric, it's really good to have you here. I have a million things to tell you, to share with you. I want you to know all about the farm and have a good summer here. No, I'm not going to work you too hard."

I laughed and stuffed my face with the good pie. Uncle Ross was even more handsome than I had remembered. His soft brown eyes sparkled constantly, proclaiming his love for life. I had forgotten how husky and brawny he was. His blue cotton shirt was open, revealing a soft mat of silky brown chest hair. The jeans he wore sat on solid hips without a belt to hold them up. When he turned and walked to the refrigerator for more milk for me I noticed how full and brawny his tight ass was. I got off watching his buns move up and down as he crossed the kitchen. I knew I could get a hard-on just watching my uncle's sexy body.

"Then you had a good trip, eh Eric?"

"The best trip I could ever have wished for, Uncle Ross." My horny eyes were feasting on his full crotch as he walked toward me with the milk and I wondered what his prick and balls were like. I must have looked very quizzically at him because he frowned as he asked me, "Is anything wrong, Eric?"

I looked up and smiled, "On the contrary, Uncle Ross; everything is perfect."

"Good boy. There are several people you have to meet who work here on the farm, besides Sam, that is. However, they'n all out helping a neighbor today. Frank raises chickens and his new brood arrived today and my men are giving him a hand. I'll tell you what we can do; I'll show you where you'll be bunking. When you've put all your things away, come down to the main barn where I'll be working this afternoon and I'll show you around this place."

I went back to the front porch for my pack; Uncle Ross led me to the upstairs of the white farm house. My bedroom was opposite his. Sam slept down at the end of the hall with an entrance from an outside stairway, plus, there were several other empty bedrooms.

Uncle Ross deposited me in my room and left me to get settled. I put things away in the dresser, then stripped of my sweaty traveling clothes and pulled out a pair of clean cut-offs to wear. There was a long full mirror on the closet door and I looked over my body as I put on the cut-offs. I decided to take off my jockey shorts and not wear any underwear. My cock showed dramatically against my leg through the material of my cut-offs. If my cock got hard, however, I knew I would have trouble not letting the cock-head peek out under the left leg of the shorts. The cut-offs had buttons on the fly and I noticed that one button had popped off. That was good, because it allowed some of my crotch hair to show. I put on a tank top that was cut so low the nipples on my pecs were exposed. I felt very sexy.

When I arrived at the barn, Uncle Ross was busy cleaning and polishing a saddle. He looked up at me when I entered and I saw his face go a little pale. "Wow, Eric, your body has really filled out a lot since I last saw you. You're a very handsome man now." He was obviously impressed by my body. "You must have been working out in a gym to be so well-developed at your age?"

I pushed my hand deep into the pockets of my cut-offs which pushed my cock and balls forward and made them more obvious. "No, but I've been on the gymnastic team the past two years and that's helped with my development. Sometime I'd like to show you what I can do on the parallel bars."

"Well, Eric, I would like to see that very much. I suspect you're very committed to gymnastics to have developed your body this much already."

"I love it, Uncle Ross. I have a very good coach who thinks I have the makings perhaps of an Olympic contender. Next year he's going to let me try out for some international games."

"Well, you're pretty good then. This coach must be very proud of you." Uncle Ross' eyes were taking in every inch of my body and I noticed that the interesting bulge in the front of his jeans was growing larger. I sat down on a stool opposite him and watched him rub saddle soap into the leather. "Do I get to ride homes when I'm here, Uncle Ross?"

"You sure do, Eric. This saddle is for you for the summer. Why don't you help me with the polishing?"

I grabbed a cloth and began to work the leather preservative into the saddle. Uncle Ross continued to work beside me and told me that Sam was driving to another farm in the morning to pick up the home that he had just purchased for me. If I wanted, I could go with Sam and pick her up.

"Eric, why don't you climb into this saddle and see how it fits you. I hadn't expected such a grown-up man as you this summer, this saddle may be a little small for you."

I climbed into the saddle and it fit perfectly. I was excited by the feel of the leather through the material of my cut-offs and on my bare legs. The good leather smell was pungent and sexy in my nostrils. I sat there, my mind drifting away on the good times I would have riding horseback, when Uncle Ross' voice brought me back to earth. "You sit that saddle very nicely, Eric. However, I would suggest that when you get your horse tomorrow and begin to ride that you wear jeans or something that will keep your prick from hanging out like it is."

I glanced down to see the head of my dick peeking out from under the material of the cut-offs. The moment Uncle Ross made mention of my cock the damned thing began to get hard. I put my hand down to cover it up, but it was no use -- it was bulging for the world to see.

"Let's go up to the house, Eric. I have something I want to give you that you can wear. If you go around the farm sporting a hard-on like you are now, you're going to have everyone pretty upset around here, including me. It's not that I mind, it's just that it's pretty hard to concentrate on work; you know what I meant?"

Walking back to the house, Uncle Ross put his arm around my shoulders and I knew I would never be able to get my hard-on to go away. His arm was heavy and warm and I could feel his strength all the way down my back and into my prick. I consciously put my arm around his waist. The feel of his body swaying with each stride was like music, like sounds from my flute. I could feel his hard muscles undulating beneath my fingers. I squeezed ever so gently and he responded by squeezing my shoulders and smiling.

In the house he took me to my room and excused himself for a moment. When he returned he was carrying a jockstrap. "This isn't exactly clean, as you can smell; I wore it last Sunday when I played softball. But it should do the trick for today. Here, Eric, put this on."

I put the jockstrap to my nose and inhaled the sweaty maleness of my uncle, which made me very excited. I must have looked uncomfortable because my uncle finally excused himself so I could be alone to change into the jockstrap and he went across the hall to his own room.

I pulled off my cut-offs and slid the jockstrap over my balls and hard dick. The strap held everything in place and I wouldn't have any more trouble with my cock showing, not that I really cared. In fact, it turned me on a lot letting it show.

When I was dressed and going out my door I noticed that Uncle Ross had left the door of his bedroom open just a trifle. Quietly I peeked inside to find him standing completely naked in the bathroom at the opposite end of his bedroom. His buns were perfect -- round and hard, jutting out with male strength. His long hard thighs were covered with silky brown hair. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror in his bathroom, running his hands over his balls and cock. Soon he was pulling on a good-sized hard pecker, his eyes closed, working up his cum. I couldn't believe this scene. My uncle had gotten turned on by me, but was afraid to make any advances. So here he was jacking off in front of a mirror. I wafted desperately to run in there and fall on my knees in front of him and slide my hungry mouth over his urgent meat. I wanted to suck on his big hot balls, to run my tongue over those rigid mounds of ass flesh and into his asshole. I wanted to bury my face in his sweaty armpits. I wanted to kiss him and run my tongue deep inside his mouth.

But, I did not do any of these things. Instead I stood there and watched in awe as his body swayed in front of the mirror. He would suck in his belly and get hard. His pecs firmed up and his full thighs thick with tension. His whole body flowed together in one undulating dance of male lustiness. His cock was heavy, but standing up robustly, aching to explode, to discharge, to have rest again.

I pulled at my jockstrap, feeling my anxious dick, droplets of cum oozing out onto my belly while watching my uncle jack off his load.

Pull on it, Uncle Ross... wiggle your beautiful ass... Shove that cock into your fist, man... Work it up... Let it come... Oh baby, let it come... Lusty juice, sticky creamy juice, shoot your fuckin' juice, flow up, flow out... Shoot... Shoot... Oh shit man, shooooooooottttttttt. Yes... it's coming... It's coming... My God, it's coming all over the fuckin' place. Cum, you fuckin' sweet juice... All over the mirror you good sweet juices... ya... ya... ya... ya... ya... It's so goooooood.

My body was trembling witnessing the gobs of cum torpedoing out of his beautiful pecker and onto the mirror. Hurriedly I walked back downstairs and ran out to the barn. Picking up the polishing cloth, I continued to work on the saddle, my mind shooting off onto pictures of my uncle's beautiful body in the middle of that bathroom shooting off his gusty load. I really had trouble with my prick now... it would not go down... it would not forget the scene of jacking off... it would not let me concentrate on polishing the saddle. I had to have some release.

Tearing off my pants and shirt, I climbed into the saddle, still wearing my jockstrap. The leather shot sexy sparks up though my legs and ass. I pulled the jockstrap down under my balls and began to move in the saddle like I was riding horseback, at the same time fucking my fist. The smell of leather and the smell of the jockstrap was driving me crazy with lust. I swayed in the saddle, shoving my blazing pecker into my tight fist and then, POW, my load shot out five feet through the air into the hay! Cum splattered over my hand and over the saddle. The smell of cum on the leather was intoxicating. I leaned over and let my tongue lap up the pungent cum from the smooth leather saddle, gobbling tacky cum juice. The taste of the leather and cum caressed my throat, sliding its way into my belly. I lay down in the hay to regain my composure, then hurriedly dressed in case my uncle returned.

When Uncle Ross walked back into the barn we finished work on the saddle together. He glanced at me and asked if the jockstrap fit. I replied that it was exactly the right size. Just knowing that the jock had cupped my uncle's warm genitals and now was cupping mine made me feel good all over.

Later that afternoon he and I drove the pick-up into a small town about five miles away and did the grocery shopping. Ordinarily Uncle Ross didn't have to do the shopping but the fellow who did the cooking was away on family business and would not be back for several days more.

Returning to the farm we began to get some supper together, since the other men would be in soon. As the chops were cooking, a pick-up truck pulled into the farm yard and three men got out and came toward the house.

Barney was an older man of about fifty, all weather-beaten and full of jokes and laughter. Uncle Ross introduced him as the hired hand who had worked for his father and had lived practically his entire life on this very farm.

Tinker was a short blond fellow in his middle twenties, whose eyes sparkled with mischief. He reminded me very much of my golden-haired college friend in overalls that I had met, intimately, at the bus station in Des Moines just that morning. However, Tinker's body was a little huskier and his hair shorter. He too, was a hired hand and had been working on the farm for about four years.

The third fellow's name was Frank. He was a short, plump man of about forty-five, with graying hair. He owned the chicken farm next to Uncle Ross' farm, and had driven Tinker and Barney home. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits. I looked for Sam but he didn't appear. The swell of good cooking and the sound of happy voices filling the kitchen flowed joyfully through my body. Everyone sat down, ate heartily, and then courteously excused themselves. Frank drove home; Barney and Tinker headed for a small bunkhouse just behind the main house. Uncle Ross and I did the dishes together, watched a little television, then turned in for the night.

Lying in my bed, caressing my smooth body, I thought back on the many events of that day. Seeing my uncle jack off had been a real shocker, but a very pleasant one nonetheless. What remained in my mind clearly was the good spirit of the farm, the simple joy of the men who gathered around the table for meals. I felt already that this was a good place to be and that I would be comfortable here.

I stretched out on my bed and threw the blanket off my body, letting the air flow though the open window to caress me to sleep. However, it didn't help me go to sleep at all. Rather, my blood started to boil. I ran my hands gently over my body, especially over my clean-cut pecs and tight belly. Remembered how much I liked the look of Uncle Ross' body this afternoon. I got out of bed and fumbled for a candle that I had brought with me. I didn't want the electric light, but rather the soft mellow light from a candle to illuminate my body reflected in a long mirror. The candle lit, I spread my legs and stood on tiptoe, watching my muscles swell. I pulled in my hard belly as far as it would go, which allowed me practically to span my waist with my hands. I kneaded the belly muscles, but it was impossible to grasp onto anything because there was absolutely no fat. I tightened my chest and flexed my arms. Work on the parallel bars had given my entire upper torso extremely good definition and I felt proud of the fact as I viewed myself.

Remembering that I had brought along some musk oil, I got it from the dresser drawer and began a deliberate, slow massaging of my body with the oil, until my skin glowed. In the candlelight the skin tone gleamed light brown. My hips were moving in a leisurely circle and I got off watching the mellow light play over my lithe muscles.

Turning my back to the mirror I again stood on tiptoes, flexing the muscles of my buns. I studied carefully their contours and I decided that the shape of my buns was one of my best features. They were small and round, not bulging. And they were hard. There was a definite depression, like a large dimple, on the side of each bun, which flowed into the curves of my narrow hips. A light down of glistening blond hair began at the curvature of my spine, flowed very gently between my buns and became more apparent as each hair gained darker tone on my thighs and calves. When I bent over, my buns separated and I could see the mysterious hole, still virgin to a cock. I spread my cheeks to watch the contracting spasms of my asshole. I wanted to push a finger inside there and tickle the hole; instead, I got off watching the puckering hole.

I could also see my balls hanging below my asshole. The strong ass cord flowed down from my ass crack to tie my balls together. My fingers caressing that tight sac made my balls contract more as blood flowed into my rising pecker. I loved the sound of the word pecker and whispered it out loud several times: pecker... pecker... pecker... pecker... pecker!

Imagine my shock just then when the door opened suddenly and there stood Sam looking at me; my body bent over in front of the mirror, buns spread, my cock hard as steel.

I stood up in fright. Sam looked shocked for only a moment. He was wearing only his jeans, his smooth muscular upper torso and chiseled head towering over me. In the candlelight he looked immense and virile. Slowly he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his legs lazily and folding his arms. I could just barely make out the features of his face in the dim light. "I came in to tell you I'm leaving at seven o'clock in the morning to pick up your home. Your uncle said you might want to go with me?"

I heard myself stammer. "Y... y... yes."

Squinting in the candlelight, I saw his features move slightly. "Yes, you are going with me?"

I was barely audible. "Yes, I will go with you... yes."

He continued standing, unmoving, for what seemed a very long time. I didn't move either. My cock didn't even go down. Then I heard him say, "Good night, Eric."

He opened the door quietly and as he was leaving I replied, "Good night, Sam."