Man for Man

African Farm Blond Hunk


I worked in Zimbabwe during my twenties as a telephone engineer. I was an area supervisor and as newer equipment arrived at exchanges, one of my jobs was to go out and see what needed to be done to update lines to all habitable dwellings. The area I covered was a huge tract consisting mainly of farms, but with a few bustling mining towns as well. Enough to keep me busy, anyway.


I got called out to survey a large tobacco farm about twelve miles from base. It was in typical Zimbabwe countryside, wide rolling areas scattered with large kopjes (hills) with balancing granite rocks. It was a brilliant sunny morning and I was more or less hoping that the drive would go on a bit longer, but as I topped a hill, there in a valley before me was the homestead.

I was greeted by a tall broad shouldered guy with short unbrushed blonde hair, and a couple of Labradors that made a token bark at the "intruder" and then let me pet them, their tails wagging madly with dog- pleasure. He grinned and stuck out a hand, having guessed why I was there.

"Hi", he said, in a broad Zimbabwean accent, "I'm Piet. I'm the assistant here -- the old man (the farm owner) and his family are on holiday in Durban."

We made some small talk and I couldn't help noticing that he was very direct in his eye contact, as well as sneaking glances at my, uh, trouser bulge. I'm six foot and worked out enough to be proud of my body. There seemed to be a crackle of electricity between us, but I couldn't do anything overt -- you never knew if someone was just being friendly. We were both wearing shorts and apart from checking out his basket, I couldn't keep my eyes off of his legs -- he was wearing shorts -- especially his extraordinary tanned hairy calf muscles -- solid and square, and covered with a blonde fuzz.

I told him that I thought we might have to replace all the lines to the farm. This would also mean the lines out to the farm beyond his. Generally these run along roads, for ease of maintenance, but some go directly through properties, and one of them was on this farm. Piet offered to show me where the lines were. I could just have checked the plans, but thought it might be fun to hang out with him, and see if anything happened. "OK" I said, "Can you take me there..."

He gave me a boyish smile, and said "the best way is by bike, come on..." and led me around the corner to a big dirt bike that stood on a concrete paved area covered with a straw roof to protect it from the burning sun.

He straddled it, kicked it off the stand and kick started it, the engine popping into life, and beckoned for me to get on. I hopped on and tried to find something to hold onto behind my back. There was a small ridge for my fingers under the seat and I had an idea it wouldn't be enough.

I was right. Piet roared off and I almost got left behind.

"Jeez, man" I told him, sounding slightly panicked, "there's not a lot to hold onto here..."

"You'll just have on hang on to me then man. Don't be shy now Mr Telephone Engineer."

"OK," I said with hesitation -- I didn't know how to take this, so to speak, and took a grip on either side of his waist. "That alright?"

"If it gets really rough you may need to get a better grip."

'On what,' I thought, but in fact, I said it out loud too before I could stop myself.

"I'm sure you'll find something" he said, and I can't be sure, but it felt like he pushed his butt back against my crutch.

Sure enough it got rougher. I thought he was going to stay on the corrugated roads but then he suddenly turned off and started to make across the bush.

I definitely felt unsafe now, and even though I liked the way his hard muscular frame felt under my hands, I had to lean forward and clasp my hands around his waist.

He had a really muscled belly -- none of the beer gut that many of the locals developed early on. I pulled myself up against him to ensure I didn't get bucked off. My crutch was straddling his ass, and the thought of these two things, together with the bouncing of the bike set things going all by themselves. I felt my 8.5" dick start to harden. It was pointing down in my briefs, so as it lengthened it started to bulge out in front. He must have felt it too. And I definitely felt his butt push back against my growing rod.

"Is that OK?" I asked, tongue in cheek.

"Fucking great, man," he replied, steering the bike towards one of the granite hills.

"I want to show you something" he said.


"Oh yeah?" I replied.

We stopped at the base of the hill and I got off, reluctantly releasing my grip on this blonde hunk. He got off and adjusted his crutch -- it was clear that he had reacted in the same way as me.

"Come on" he said and started to walk towards a narrow cleft in the granite face. It turned out to be a pathway that lead up towards the centre of the outcrop. At places it was so narrow, you had to really hold your breath to squeeze through, and I was beginning to wonder whether it was going to be worth it. The narrow cleft suddenly opened out into a large almost circular area, with soft leaf mulch underfoot. The sunlight somehow managed to penetrate into the opening, illuminating half of the natural arena formed by the rocks -- it was about three yards across.

Piet pointed up to one of the walls. It was covered in rock paintings of a hunt, a swarm of male hunters pursuing a herd of buck. You could tell they were male hunters...each one had a huge cock painted in with a single stroke.

"Jeez," I said, "they didn't have anything to worry about in the trouser department..."

"Neither do you, if I'm correct," he said, then grabbed for my balls and ordered me to "Cough!" in a mock hernia examination. I laughed and grabbed him back

"Your turn," I said, and left my hand there. I could feel the base of his rigid cock. I thought "what the fuck," and pulled him to me, "...lets see if he's a kisser."

I first kissed his shoulder through his khaki shirt, nipping the muscle , then worked up his neck to his chin. Not only did he not pull away, he found my mouth with his, and stuck his muscular tongue into it as far as he could. Unusual I thought, but by now the time for thinking was past and lust took over. There was kind of an explosion of passion. I guess, like me, he didn't have that much opportunity to get the kind of release we both liked -- less for him than me in this fairly isolated place.

I crushed him to me, our cocks clashing hard through our pants as I drilled his mouth with my tongue. I stuck my hands under his untucked shirt and slid them up his tight blonde haired frame until I reached his nipples. He gasped as I tweaked them, but it was the kind of gasp that made me realise I had hit gold again. Was he ever loving this! At some point he lost his shirt and I lost mine, his wiry blonde fuzz creating electricity against my smooth muscled chest, our cocks rubbing frantically against each other through our shorts.

"Fuck," I said, "is this good or am I dreaming."

"It really doesn't matter, man," he said, and grabbed my ass to increase the rough pressure between us. He pulled one of his hands round to the front and pushed his hand up my thigh, inside my shorts until his hand was cupping my big balls. In the style of the times, I wasn't wearing any underwear, and as I found out , neither was he. With his other hand he undid my shorts, dropped to his knees and rubbed his smooth face against my totally hard thick cock, the pre-cum lube streaming from it and making slick trails on his cheeks. He pulled it towards him from its quivering upright position and took it in his mouth. My god...his hot tight mouth-cunt was sensational, as his tongue licked around my helmet, inflaming my sensitive glans.

I felt like my cock was going to explode, and didn't want to waste it too soon, so I let him take me almost to the brink then pulled my cock out of his mouth, slapping him a couple of times with its meaty length. He moaned for me to put it back in, but I had other plans because I wanted some mouth action too. I pushed him back against the rock and pulled his shorts down, his 7.5" cock springing back to vertical after being pulled down my his falling shorts. I've never seen such a beautiful cock, emerging from his white blonde bush, really thick, hard and squarish, with a big sculpted cut head that had "swallow me" written all over it.

My only complaint was that it had no pre-cum, but when I put it in my mouth I realised he must have been saving it, that salty viscous liquid oozing out into my mouth was like nectar.


I did my party trick and took him all the way to the hilt in one, then contracted my throat muscles to work some magic.

"Fuck," he gasped, "how the fuck do you do that."

I didn't answer immediately, knowing that I was driving him crazy was too much fun. I mouth fucked his dick with deep strokes, gliding my hands up over his taut gut and chest to grab his nipples for a bit of extra sensation. I could tell by his gasps that he wasn't going to last long, and let him choose the pace. He chose to let rip, and within minutes his gasps told me something was about to blow. He pulled his quivering cock out and managed to gasp, "I'm coming, man, I'm gonna shoot," and I squeezed his nipples to give him a signal to do so...

"Don't you fucking miss me..." I growled.

His cock erupted in orgasm, fountains of hot white cream geysered onto my face. I opened my mouth to taste him and more spurts hit the back of my throat, his cock twitching each time it delivered another shot of cum. Without waiting for him to finish, I stood up and pushed him down on his haunches, his back against the rock face. Using the cum from my face, I slicked up my cock, working the head with my own personal wrist action, my finger and thumb circling the thick sensitive head, my legs spread apart. He looked up worshipfully at my cock, looming over him, moaning, closing his eyes and opening his mouth for what was to come, still moaning in pleasure from his own orgasm, still working his hard cock for every last tiny bit of sensation.

I used my free hand to work my sensitive nipples, and that and the feeling of control over this fucking farm boy did it. I felt the electricity building in my groin, and my breathing turned to gasps as the cum rose in my rod. Then in a fury of sensation, my nipples tingling from my pinches, I threw my head back and roared as I shot my load all over this yokel, the thick ropes of white cum hitting his rough cut hair, his face, chest and even his cock. He was dripping in it, as I was, both of us the victims of too much cum and too little quality sex in our redneck world to take care of our needs.

I collapsed down against him and kissed his wet face, both of us completely dazed in the aftermath of sensational orgasms. I stretched him out on the soft bed of leaves, and lay on top of him, grinding my still hard dick against his, two slippery boys who didn't want it to stop. I kissed him deeply, and he returned the gesture with his own urgent tongue...and we kind of collapsed there side by side in that protected place.

We dozed for about twenty minutes, I guess. What a mess. Both of us were covered in cum, sweat, leaf mould and grass. We cleaned each other off as best we could, grinning foolishly, because sometimes sex is that good that all you can do is laugh. I asked him about the place we were in. He told me it had probably been inhabited by an indigenous family one or two hundreds of years ago, as it offered natural protection against predators, and its narrow entrance made it easy to defend against invading neighbours. He had found pottery and arrowheads on the site as well.

We went back to the farm where we showered quietly, not wishing to attract too much attention from the domestics. I couldn't take my eyes off this guy's beautiful body, having failed to fully appreciate it in the heat of our lust.

You can maybe guess the rest. We became fuck buddies, taking every chance we could to explore each other, every way we could. Perhaps this was because we never knew exactly when it would all come to an end. Life was like that in those times and that place.

I was the one who regretfully moved away, when my job took me to another part of the country. We kept in touch, and saw each other from time to time and then I heard Piet had married. That kind of ended it for me with him sexually, and I left him to his family life. Nice guy though...a really nice guy.

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In fictional stories it is fine to have sex without condoms, but in reality you should always use a rubber, regardless if you use Prep or not. Prep only protects for HIV, thats why other diaseases spread among Prep users that practice bareback sex.