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CAT | Rural
23
Young Farm Boy’s Visit to Town
0 Comments | Posted by Bath House Admin in Authoritarian, Rural
While I was living on the farm with my family, we would occasionally go into our small nearby town for supplies and auto repair. I was still in school so most of our visits in town were on the week ends. My father was having some problem with one of our farm trucks and made arrangements to leave it at the local garage while he ran some errands and got a haircut. I was to stay close to the garage and wait for his return.
“…brad’s thunderthighs was tremblin gainst m’head, his balls bruizin m’tonge, n Samson’s cock was swellin n’juicin so much it made slipslappin sounds, an then suddenly Samson’s assmuscles jus plain clenched round m’tremblin boyboner an i felt somethin cave-in deep inside, an i started gruntin n’knifin m’hips up deep in horny bursts.
‘Oh! Oh! OH! OH! OH!’ it wasn’t even m’own voice…”
The town I live in is small, cattle and horse country. Nothing much happens.
The Kelly Gang came through here once, years ago, but I was too young ta
remember it. It’s a shame. I love hearing stories `bout Ned Kelly. He was a
real something. A regular Outback hero.
I do remember when they strung `im up. I cried, until me brother Angus said
I shouldn’t. It was the first time I saw a newspaper. Couldn’t read it yet.
I was seven. Angus read it to me. I can read now. I’m eleven and Angus `s
seventeen.
Angus and me, we’re best friends. We got three sisters, and I luv `em all,
but Angus and I actually go out and do things together. The lasses just sit
at home and do the washing and the knittin’.
“I got the keys, guys, now go already,” Luke called as Stac and Buck climbed into the pickup.
Luke smiled as the two handsome young men finally pulled out. They were off for two weeks, a well deserved break from work, and a chance to travel north and do some camping and fishing in the forests along the state line.
Stac had asked Luke to house sit, to take care of the cows and the dog and generally keep an eye on the place. For Luke it was a break from life in town. He loved his cousin Stac and, over the last few months, had also come to love Stac’s partner, Buck. They were a devoted and attractive couple and, for Luke, they confirmed the notion of two men forming a life together as an exciting reality.
They’d agreed, no Christmas presents they had to buy. Make it, that was okay, find it, something you already had, okay, too. But nothing they had to pay money for, and for sure, no credit cards to come back and haunt them later.
Stac had given it a lot of thought. Then about three weeks before Christmas he had gotten up one morning knowing what he wanted to give Buck. It was something he already had, so that was okay, within the rules. It was also something which, as much as any object could, said what he wanted to say to Buck about how he felt about him. He felt good about Buck’s present and it just got the day off to a great start.
That was a Wednesday and he was looking forward to the evening when Buck should pull in about six o’clock. Yeah, he thought as he got the cows prodded out of the barn, it was the perfect present. An hour later as he finished his chores and headed back to the house, he realized he was whistling “Jingle Bells.” Maybe he was getting a little of the Christmas Spirit after all.
Buck knew the road well, at least he thought he did. He’d been driving this route for five years now, since he signed on with Steven’s the summer after he graduated from high school. But in this fog nothing looked right. The landmarks he could see seemed to be in the wrong place or in the wrong order.
The fog was closing in fast, a cold, wet fog which had come out of nowhere. He’d turned on his headlights three miles back but now they just glared back at him, bouncing off the gray wall of fog which seemed to stand like a concrete barrier just beyond the hood of the truck.
Crunnnchh! Suddenly I was jolted out of the thoughts buzzing around in my
head about sales targets, budgets and stock problems. The car came to a
grinding halt and a sickening feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. The
noise from the motor had sounded very serious, and the way the engine died
seemed to spell a permanent stop.
“Fuck!” I declared loudly to the empty land around me. This whole trip had
been a nightmare from start to finish, and now I was finally heading back to
the city, this had to happen. I popped the bonnet and looked at the engine
with the forlorn hope of someone who knew nothing about mechanics. The last
town had been a good three hours back, and according to my map, the next
outpost of civilization was at least a hundred kilometres ahead.
Told my wife, “I’m hot as hell. Gotta take a break, hon.” I’d been working that summer doing odd chores between full-time jobs — lawn mowing, tree trimming, and furniture moving. Back then, weren’t many job opportunities in Arkansas, at least not like now. “Gotta take a dip to cool off. Can’t get much done anyhow ’cause of this damned heat.”
“Okay, sweetie. But be sure to be here before the kids get back from Mom Ethel’s. Don’t want to wait up ’til supper gets cold. Got your favorite: chicken ‘n’ dumplins. Oh, and please pick up some milk on the way home, K?”
13
Old-Fashioned Negro Slave Stories
0 Comments | Posted by classic14rider in Authoritarian, Historical, Rural, Stories, interracial
The overseer came up from behind and grabbed the boy by the hips. He rubbed his hardening crotch on the backside of the slave boy’s pants.
An overseer on a Southern plantation in the 19th century realizes that black slave boys are useful for much more than manual labor. This is a work of fiction. It is not intended for minors. It includes domination and submission between a white man and a slave boy. There are acts of homosexuality and the use of racial slurs. If you are offended by this kind of fantasy, please search for something else to read.
by silicondog@earhlink.net
The following story is intended for adults over age 18 interested in male
to male sexual fantasy. If that’s not you, please read no further. All
characters in this story are fictional with no resemblance to any real
persons implied. Looking to trade other muscle stories.
At the end of my freshman year I had a [...]
