Man for Man

The New Farm Hand


Casey Conrad sat at the counter in a small diner in a small town in Missouri sipping his coffee and worrying about his future. At nine in the morning he was the only customer. He rarely joined the normal breakfast crowd and only stopped in for coffee after driving twenty miles from his boyhood home on a farm. The regular crowd of patrons, having finished their customary breakfast of eggs, ham, hash browns, toast, and plenty of hot, strong coffee had departed to resume their regular daily routines. Casey's daily routine, however, had recently been disrupted. The only certainty in his life was that he would buy a week's worth of groceries and return to a very empty house.


Madge, the matronly owner/cook/waitress of the diner extended sympathy to her solitary customer at the time. "Yur daddy was a real fine man," she said. "Too bad he had to go afore his time. Sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral last week. Always liked to see him. Good tipper, too. Whatcha gonna do with the farm? If'n thar's ennythin' I can do fer ya, just say the word. More coffee? Gonna be a scorcher today; ain't it?

Madge was like that. When she wasn't rushing around to cook for and serve customers, she did a lot of talking. She spoke in disjointed thoughts that made it hard to know which of her comments to respond to.

Casey didn't feel like talking about his dad so he said, "Yeah. One more cup and I'll be on my way." His emotions were still in turmoil over his father's accident -- his tractor slid down an embankment, overturned, and crushed him. Compounding Casey's depression was worrying about the farm. He and his father had worked the farm alone for years because his mother died from complications when he was born and his much older sister had married and moved with her husband to England. Now he was alone. It was no surprise that he inherited the farm. At age twenty- four, he became the youngest farm owner in the county. But he knew he couldn't work the farm alone. There was more than enough work for two; one person just couldn't do it all.

Madge rattled on about the latest small town gossip. Casey was only half-listening. He was spared hearing further trivial news when a young man came in and took a stool not far from Casey who eyed the stranger with particular interest -- an interest that he couldn't reveal to anyone in Bible-belt Missouri. The stranger was well muscled and handled his stuffed backpack as though it didn't weigh more than a few pounds. Aside from a three- or four-day growth of beard and an exhausted expression, he was stunningly handsome.

"What'll ya have?" Madge inquired as she wiped her hands on a grease-stained apron.

The young man (Casey guessed he was about eighteen), having scanned the menu on a chalkboard above the grill opposite the counter, asked, "What can I get for two dollars?"

"Full breakfast starts at four ninety five. Coffee's fifty cents extra," she answered.

"Don't have that much," the young man said with obvious embarrassment.

"Well," mused Madge, " I s'pose I could fix ya up with toast, couple of eggs, and coffee. But no refills on the coffee!"

"Thank you, ma'am. That'll hafta do, I guess."

Madge was in business and no doubt made scant profit from her eatery but she was also a mother who took pity on the young man. He reminded her of her son who didn't come home from Viet Nam. She brought back a full breakfast with hash browns, sausage, a pancake, orange juice, and coffee.

The surprised lad said, "That's more than I can afford, ma'am."

"Gracious me!" she said with what Casey recognized as feigned embarrassment. "Guess I got confused. So -- my mistake, yur good luck. Eat up, sonny."

He did ... with obvious gusto that suggested he hadn't eaten a full meal for quite some time. When he had finished, he asked Madge, "Got any chores I can do to pay for my meal? That was mighty kind of you but fair's fair."

Madge dismissed the lad's question with, "Maybe later. Next time ya stop in. Y'all come back again, now ... ya heah? Get tired of seein' the same old faces in here. And I do mean old. Not like Casey over there. Most of my customers are ancient like me.

The young man glanced at Casey and smiled. It might have been amusement over Madge's weak joke, but Casey -- because of his admiration of the visitor -- interpreted the smile to be an expression of spontaneous friendship or at least a preliminary signal of a possible friendship. `Wishful thinking!' Casey reminded himself. `What's the chance of this handsome stranger harboring the same urges I have?'

"Don't know if I'll be back, ma'am," he said. "I'm trying to get to Reno. But it seems everybody's suspicious of hitchhikers nowadays. They just cruise on by."


"That's a long way, sonny," Madge said. "How're you gonna make it with just two dollars in yur pocket?"

"Well ... that's a problem," he admitted. "You wouldn't know somebody who would give me a job for a short time, would you?"

Casey's interest in the stranger abruptly shifted from a desirable sex partner to a solution for his much more practical problem. Could this young man be the help he would need on the farm? He had said `for a short time' and might eventually leave for Reno but it would be nice to have help until he could make more permanent plans.

Moving down to the stool next to the hitchhiker, Casey said, "Pardon me, but I couldn't help overhearing that you were looking for work. So happens that I'm looking for somebody. Ever worked on a farm?"

"A little," the young man said. "Summers. On my granpa's farm."

"Then you know what it's like. By the way, I'm Casey Conrad. I've got a farm about twenty miles north of here. What do I call my new farm hand?"

"Kevin Miller. Don't you want to know more about me before you give me a job?"

"I know enough already. I can see you're strong. I know you're responsible `cause you wanted to pay the full price of your breakfast. You're polite; you always called Madge ma'am. And you need a job. What's more to know? Grab your backpack, Kevin. My truck's outside. We can get to know each other better on the drive home."

Both men were pleased with their good luck. Casey needed help on the farm. Kevin needed a job. Although neither would dare to admit it each was especially pleased to have met a handsome and very appealing man. But, (heaven forbid!) neither could admit the basis of his attraction. They said goodbye to Madge and left. After filling two carts in the grocery store, checking out, and loading the sacks in the back of the pickup truck, they headed north out of town.

On the drive, Casey summarized the work that had to be done, explaining on the way that since his father's death he worried that since he couldn't do it all by himself he might lose the family farm. Kevin revealed that he had dropped out of high school during his senior year because he and his father had what he called a terrible argument. As a result, he left home and was making his way to Reno where he hoped to stay with his uncle until he could find a job. "No," he said when asked. "I can't go back home. Let's just say I'm not welcome there anymore and leave it at that. Okay?"

"So you expected to make it all the way to Nevada with two dollars in your pocket?" Casey asked.

"I'm not that stupid!" Kevin said. Before Casey could apologize for the implication of his question, the runaway explained, "I emptied my savings account before I left. I had almost two hundred dollars. I slept in a highway rest stop last night. This morning, the money was gone. Some bastard robbed me! At least he didn't take the whole wallet `cause it has my driver's license and my uncle's phone number and address."

"I'm sorry," Casey said. "You've had a spell of really bad luck."

"Yeah, we both have," he replied pensively. After a pause, he added, "But maybe my luck has turned around. I met this guy in a diner who was willing to give me a job."

They both laughed. Neither knew how much the other wished that the good luck could become even luckier but recognized that the probability was vanishingly small.


Casey turned off the narrow county road onto a dirt lane running between fields of corn that seemed to stretch almost to the horizon. A quarter mile away was a clump of huge oak trees that obscured a farmhouse, a massive barn, and two smaller outbuildings. Casey's great-grandfather had planted the trees as a young man because he wanted the privacy they would afford. Three generations of Conrads appreciated the seclusion in their miniforest.

"Welcome to the Conrad homestead," Casey said to his passenger. "And your home as long as you want to stay."

"You and your wife live here?" Kevin asked.

"Just me," came the reply. "Never found a girl I'd want to marry."

Both men were half-hoping that the other -- if he were so inclined -- would detect the underlying meaning. If either of them did, he didn't pursue the matter.


Casey parked the truck in front of the white, two-story frame house. Kevin helped his host carry in several bags of groceries and then retrieved his backpack. Casey led him upstairs to what had been his sister's bedroom but was empty now except for a bed, two chairs, and an empty chest of drawers. "If you expected a bunk-house for farm hands," Casey said, "what you'll have is a bedroom in the main house. And access to the kitchen, bathroom, or anywhere else you want."

"That's awfully kind, Casey. And trusting. We've only just met. Aren't you afraid I'll steal you blind and disappear with your truck?"

"Not at all! In fact, your asking the question only confirms my confidence in your character. Now, feel free to freshen up. Bathroom is at the end of the hall. I'll be putting away the groceries. Come on down to the kitchen when you're ready and we'll have lunch."

Kevin was overcome with gratitude for the hospitality (and friendship?) and felt like hugging the man who had saved him from days without food or shelter. But that, he knew, would be inappropriate at best. At worst, it might reveal a secret that had already cost him a happy home.

As Casey put away the groceries he heard the shower running. His mind filled with images of a naked Kevin lathering up his admirable body. Would he wash his cock and balls? Of course! Would he get hard? Possibly. Would he jerk off? Who knows? The chain of thoughts created a stir in Casey's loins.

Kevin did, in fact, bring himself to orgasm. Because the hot water streaming over his body felt so good and since he hadn't cum in three days, it was particularly satisfying. He shot a palmful of his sweet-and-salty cream as his imagination created a vision of Casey's gift into his own left hand. As he washed away the evidence he wondered how many times Casey had done the same. Most probably a lot.

Casey was just starting to prepare lunch when Kevin came into the kitchen. Casey nearly dropped the skillet when he saw his new housemate. His emerging beard was gone. His hair was no longer disheveled. The rumpled clothes had been replaced by a tee shirt and cut-off jeans, both of which hugged his muscular body and left little to the imagination of the masculine physique that lay beneath the clothes.

Kevin noticed Casey's reaction. It was just what he had hoped to elicit. But, of course, it was not convincing evidence of anything beyond surprise at the transformation in his appearance.

"What happened to the guy I met in the diner?" Casey asked.

Kevin laughed and said, "He got cleaned up, that's all. By the way, I used some of your shampoo. I hope you don't mind."

"You're free to use ANYTHING I have," Casey replied, wondering if his new friend would pick up on the double meaning. He did but was afraid to divulge what he most wanted to "use."

After lunch, Casey retrieved some of his work clothes to loan to his new employee. Although Kevin was six years younger, he was slightly taller than Casey, his shoulders were much broader; and his solidly-muscled chest, arms, and legs were substantial. In spite of that, Casey was able to find shirts, overalls, and a pair of boots that would fit. The afternoon was spent with a tour of the farm and a crash course in farming. Since Kevin had some experience on his grandfather's farm, he was able to quickly absorb all the information although more time was required to explain the care of the livestock since Kevin's grandfather had none.

Immediately following a late supper Casey said, "We run on farmer's time here. Early to bed and early to rise. Up at five thirty. A couple of hours work from six `til eight. Breakfast, then back to work until lunchtime. Depending on what has to be done, we knock off around six to clean up and have supper. Makes for a long day. I hope you don't regret taking the job."

"Not at all," Kevin replied. "I'd rather be busy than lounging around ... or standing at the side of the highway for hours with my thumb out, wishing somebody would give me a ride."

Each man lay in bed that night fantasizing about the other but periodically reminding himself that the fantasies were unrealistic. Casey indulged in comparing Kevin to the boys he knew in high school and who were fodder for his imagination when he masturbated. Over time, he had accepted the fact that he would have to live with the frustration of not experiencing the satisfaction of man-to-man sex. Kevin, meanwhile, was grateful for a job but was not willing to jeopardize it by revealing that he was gay. He hoped that when he finally got to Reno, he could find a like-minded partner.



The following week seemed to pass quickly because of the twelve-hour workday. There was only a brief period after supper that they could relax. The strenuous work, however, made bedtime a welcome part of the day. Casey was impressed with Kevin's stamina and strength. It made working the farm noticeably easier than when he and his father did the work. Casey caught himself admiring Kevin's body from time to time but only briefly; it was at night as he lay in bed alone that his helper consumed his thoughts. Kevin had similar thoughts as he lay in bed but fondling himself, getting hard, jerking off, and cumming. He had long ago learned to eat his cum so as not to leave any telltale mess to be discovered by his parents and he continued the habit while living with Casey.

During that first week, a rapport developed between them, facilitated by similar senses of humor, empathy for the other's loss of family, and what became a good- natured competition over who could work harder. There were also a few instances in which one or the other of them would be distracted from the work to admire his new friend's (and they were rapidly becoming friends) remarkable good looks.

Casey, for example, walked around from behind the tractor to find Kevin pissing on the ground. There in plain sight was a beautiful cock. Only by self- discipline and habit was he able to resist the temptation to admire it more than a few seconds but the image would be called up as he masturbated that night in bed. On another occasion, Kevin walked down the upstairs hall past Casey's bedroom door that had carelessly been left open. A completely naked Casey, who had just showered, was rummaging through a drawer to find his pajamas. Kevin paused just long enough to check out his employer's masculinity before proceeding to the bathroom for his own shower. The memory of what he saw fueled his excitement as he jerked off under the hot shower and had some hot, tangy desert before hitting the sack.

Both men restrained themselves in conversation. Each feared revealing his attraction to the other, which was, in a way, quite rational. The consequences of being known as a queer could easily ruin everything. For his own reasons, neither of them wanted to risk alienating the other and having to part ways; Kevin needed the work and the money; Casey needed help. But each of them wished it were different.

Over breakfast on Friday Casey asked, "Wanna go to town with me today? I've got to go to the grocery, the feed store, the bank, and stop by the lawyer's office. We can have lunch at Madge's."

Kevin readily agreed; it would be a day off work and, more significantly, he had grown to enjoy being with Casey.

They stopped at the bank first and Casey gave Kevin his first week's wages: two hundred dollars. "We never talked about your pay," Casey said. "I hope this is enough."

"More than generous," Kevin replied. "Especially considering that I've eaten another hundred dollars or so at your place this week."

They walked to the town's only diner for lunch where Madge greeted them enthusiastically. "I hoped ya'd be back, young fellas. Sure glad to see ya. Got a special today: hot roast beef sandwich, vegetables, rolls, and fresh apple pie. `Course ya can have somethin' else if you want. Casey treatin' you well? Not workin' you too hard is he? Farmin's almost as tough as runnin' this here diner. Why, yeste'day my coffee maker just up and died. Ya wouldn't believe the grief I caught from customers when I served `em instant coffee with boiled water. Ya'da thought I was a mean ole hag from their complaints. But they was just jokin' with me. Have a seat. I'll bring ya some water." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away.

"She always like that?" Kevin asked.

"Adorable, isn't she?" Casey grinned.

Kevin insisted on paying for lunch, explaining, "It's my small way of thanking you for all you've done for me. Besides, I've got to pay Madge for my breakfast last week."

Back at the farm they unloaded the truck and Casey suggested they take the rest of the day off, an idea that met no resistance. They settled into the living room after an early supper to enjoy cold beer and a rare period of relaxation and conversation. After the third beer, Kevin, who was unaccustomed to alcohol, began to slur his words. They had a fourth and a fifth (in spite of Casey's reservations) and Kevin began to profusely thank Casey for giving him a job, for his kind hospitality, and for being his `only friend in the world.' Casey realized they were the words of a drunk but were spoken with unvarnished sincerity. He also recognized that it was time for Kevin to go to bed and sleep it off, so he said, "I think you'd better hit the sack, buddy, or you'll feel rotten in the morning."


It took a little more coaxing but Kevin agreed. He tried to stand but Casey had to help him up and steady him across the room and up the stairs. "I gotta piss. Bad!" the drunken young man said. He put his arm around Casey's shoulders for support; Casey held him around the waist and guided him into the bathroom. Kevin was so unsteady that he had to keep his arm around Casey while trying, unsuccessfully, to unzip his fly. "Guess I need some help ... good buddy," he said sheepishly.

Casey unzipped his pants, fished out his cock, and aimed it at the toilet bowl. To that point, he had been helping a virtually incapacitated friend but suddenly realized that his hand was wrapped around another man's cock ... for the first time in his life. His excitement was amplified because it belonged to the man whom he admired and whose character and body had aroused him so often. The strong stream of piss dwindled to a trickle and then stopped. Casey shook it (which was not unusual) but succumbed to temptation and fondled it for a moment (which in `normal' society was taboo). A silly grin crossed Kevin's face and he subtly thrust his hips forward. Casey could have (should have?) ignored the signals but was compelled to continue fondling -- something that he had wanted to do for a long time. His enjoyment was disrupted, however, by the sudden thought that Kevin, when he sobered up, would take offense at the inappropriate assault.

Kevin stumbled his way (with Casey's help) back to his bedroom, struggled for a while to take off his clothes. He was only dimly aware of his motives when he sat on the edge of his bed and asked, "Can't do it! Would you do it for me?"

Casey was conflicted. He could help his friend who obviously needed help. But alarm bells went off in his mind. Undressing Kevin would present a very arousing sight and may very well cause him to do things that were out of bounds. Promising himself that he would resist temptation, Casey took off Kevin's shirt. The sight of the bare, muscled chest made a dent in his resolve. Kevin fell backward onto the bed. Casey removed his shoes and socks, lifted his legs onto the bed, and with difficulty took off his trousers, taking note of the bulge in the briefs of the supine figure that lay temptingly beneath him. He was about to tuck Kevin under the sheet and quilt when he noticed the alcoholic stupor had taken its final toll; the strikingly handsome young man had passed out.

Casey grew weak in the knees at the sight. More significantly, his good sense weakened. He removed the briefs that covered the one part of the magnificent body he most wanted to see. He reached down and tentatively took the cock into his hand. He fondled it for a moment as his lust mounted. He massaged the pendulous balls full of the sperm that he wanted to taste. Kevin stirred, which brought Casey to his senses. Disgusted with himself for taking advantage, he covered Kevin up and left for his own bedroom. He undressed and got into bed but he didn't fall asleep for a long time. He thought about his longing for intimate relations with a man that had haunted him since puberty. He thought he had his yeaning under control ... until he saw Kevin come into the diner ... until he got to know him and quickly grew to like him ... until he saw him naked on the bed. Oh, how he wished it were possible to make love to him!


In spite of a fitful sleep, Casey awoke early the next morning, arose, slipped on a robe, and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. An hour passed and he heard the toilet flush upstairs. Kevin came into the kitchen a short time later, dressed for work. "I'm sorry," he said. "I made an ass of myself last night. I shoulda known better. I promise I won't do it again."

"Think nothing of it," Casey replied. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's okay to get drunk once in a while. Think of it as recreation. You sure don't get much of that working dawn to dusk around here all week."

Kevin poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table across from Casey. "Getting a buzz is one thing," he said. "Fall-down drunk is another. I'm sorry."


"Stop it, Kevin! No more apologies! No harm, no foul. Okay?"

Kevin felt chastised on top of his guilt and fell silent. But not for long. "I woke up this morning in bed," he began hesitantly. "But I don't remember anything after going to the bathroom. Did you put me to bed?"

"Yeah," Casey replied. "You really don't remember? You must have been more drunk than I thought."

Kevin wanted to know more. He wanted to know why he woke up completely naked. He wanted to know what happened while he was naked. But he was afraid to ask. What could he say? `Did we have sex?' That would most certainly offend his employer and his friend.

Casey decided to diplomatically change the subject. "Not much has to be done today. How about we take care of the morning chores. After lunch we can drive over to Jefferson City. There's a bowling alley on the outskirts of town. They've got billiard tables, too. It'll be good to get away for a little while. Sound interesting?"

"Sure," Kevin exclaimed, the brightening of his spirits obvious.

They had more fun than eight-year-olds at Disneyland. They joked, laughed, and only occasionally looked lustfully at the other's fluid movements bowling or shooting pool. On the drive back, they decided to stop at Madge's diner for supper.

"Well, now!" Madge shrieked when they walked through the door. "What a treat it is to see you two this time of day. Have a seat. Be with you in a minute."

They finished their meal with a piece of Madge's famous custard pie and called her over to compliment her on the meal. She looked around at the half-dozen customers, saw that nothing had to be done right away, and sat down. "Shucks," she blushed at the praise for the food. "Just good ole home cookin' is all. Ya oughta know that, Casey. You and yur dad got used to man-cookin'. That ain't nearly so good. Just t'other day, I was saying the same thing to Jeff Stone. His wife's visiting her kin down in Al-bama. Comes in here most nights for real food. Real nice fella, that Jeff. So how's it goin' on the farm? Has he worked your butt off, Kevin? Don't let him do that! Still plannin' on goin' to Reno? I don't think you should."

"Why's that, ma'am?" Kevin asked.

"First off, sonny, cut out that ma'am stuff. Name's Madge. Why's that? I'll tell ya. You two would make a mighty fine couple. That's why."

Both Casey and Kevin were stunned at the implications of what she said. Each of them panicked that his attraction to the other -- and his carefully guarded secret -- had been noticed. Casey regressed to the defensiveness he had to employ in high school and said emphatically, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Plain as the nose on yur face," Madge retorted. "Ya never had no girlfriends, did ya, Casey. What does that mean? Didn't know `bout Kevin here `til tonight. These old eyes don't miss much. Gotta be that way runnin' this place. Ya gotta know yur customers to stay in this kind of bus'ness. I seen the way ya look at each other. The sparkle in yur eyes. The glow on yur faces. Both of ya! There's a connection between ya sure as God made little green apples. Most folks don't notice that. I do. I knew Steve and JoAnn Hayes would get married afore they knew it. They got five kids now. That little girl of theirs is a sweet thing ain't she? `Course you two won't have kids but ya belong to each other. So here's my advice. Like it or not I'm givin' it to ya. Don't go to Reno, sonny. Stick here with Casey. Trust me. Ya won't be sorry."

All the two men could do was to stare at each other in disbelief that their friend might have secret yearnings. It strained credibility..

"There ya go again," Madge said with a tone of triumph. "Yur talkin' to each other with yur eyes. Yur both scared that yur secret's out. Don't worry none, young fellas. I ain't gonna tell a soul. All I'm gonna do is wish ya all the happiness ya deserve. And don't worry none about what t'other busybodies think. It's yur life. Enjoy it! Gotta go now. Ole man Stevens don't like to wait too long fer his apple pie. Good man, that fella, but wants his apple pie soon's he finishes his supper."


Madge got back to work, leaving two astonished and confused young men to absorb what she had said.
The drive back to the farm was largely silent. At first, both men tried to make small talk but soon gave up. Each of them was lost in his own thoughts -- about what Madge had said, about their suppressed desires, about the prospect of living together as a couple. Was it really so unlikely? Could Madge really have sensed the nature of his affection for the other? More importantly, was the affection she saw reciprocal? Could she be trusted to keep a secret? How many other people would become suspicious? The imponderable questions demanded answers that were not obvious.

Upon entering the house Casey said, "Let's go into the living room. We need to talk." When they had settled into separate easy chairs, he continued. "About what Madge said. I think we have to be honest with each other. I've known Madge since I was a little boy. She's outspoken, sometimes brash. She doesn't have a lot of schooling, but she's possibly the wisest person I know. She noticed something in us ... both of us ... something between us. She's at least half-right. That bit about my never having a girlfriend. The reason is that I'm gay, Kevin. Yeah. Queer. What's more, I think you're very attractive ... in character, responsibility, initiative, and -- to be honest, you have a very desirable body. I want to know if she's more than half-right. Are you gay?"

Kevin fidgeted before answering. "Yes. That's why dad threw me out of the house. I was in the back yard with my friend, Jason. We were playfully wrestling on the grass. I pinned him. He looked at me with a grin and rubbed his crotch against mine. That was all the confirmation I needed for my suspicions. He was gay like me. I kissed him. A long kiss. Right on the lips. It was the first time I'd done anything with a guy and it felt wonderful. I didn't know my dad had come home and saw us through the back window. Next thing I knew, he was pulling me to my feet. He yelled at Jason to get the fuck outta there and not come back. Ever! He ran off but Dad started screaming at me never to try anything like that again. I wasn't thinking and yelled back at him that I was gay and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Then the beating began. Between punches, he called me all kinds of filthy names. Finally, he ordered me to go to my room and not come out until I was ready to apologize and promise not to sin any more. I missed super that night but around midnight I packed some stuff in my backpack and left. I couldn't live a lie any longer. But I couldn't be what I knew I was ... at least not around my dad. I slept in the park that night. In the morning, I closed my savings account at the bank and took off for Reno. I got as far as Missouri. You know the rest of the story."

Casey was appalled at the cruelty of a father toward a son but suspected it was not the only arguments they had. "I'm sorry, Kevin. I knew you'd argued with your father but I didn't realize how insensitive and cruel he was."

"That's history," Kevin said. "More important is that I met a guy in a diner in the middle of Missouri. The two weeks since then have been nothing but happy."

"So is Madge right or only half right? Do you feel toward me the same way I feel toward you?"

"Absolutely! But I was afraid to say or do anything for fear you'd kick me out. With two weeks pay in my pocket, I could make it to Reno but I want to stay here with you. I was pretty sure you were straight and we could only be friends but I like it here. I like you."

"Well isn't that a fine kettle of fish!" Casey laughed. "Here we were -- wanting each other all this time but both of us were afraid to say so. God bless Madge for making us see the truth!"

Casey stood, walked over to Kevin, and lifted him out of the chair. The two new lovers embraced and kissed each other with a passion that had been building for a very long time. They ground their crotches together and were aroused further by the feel of the other's hardening cock. Casey took Kevin's hand and led him up the stairs into his father's bedroom, the only bedroom with a double bed.


Alternately kissing and removing articles of clothing, they progressed toward what they craved. Their arousal climbed toward the pinnacle of sensual delight. Soon, they were lying on the bed, and pressing their naked bodies hungrily together, driven by the dual forces of emergent love and carnal lust.

Each of them, unknown to the other, grew apprehensive. Neither of them had any experience with gay sex and had only vague notions of how to go beyond kissing and embracing. Kevin was the first to voice his concerns. "Be patient with me," he pleaded softly. "I've never done this and I'm not sure what to do ... doing it the right way, I mean."

"Neither have I," Casey replied. "We'll learn together."

The two neophyte virgins, trusting their instincts, navigated the path toward erotic ecstasy. Casey, being slightly older and more self-confident initially blazed the trail. He explored his new lover's body first with his hands. He relished the opportunity to feel the hard muscles and the sprinkling of hair that had begun to grow across the chest and below the navel. When the nipples responded by becoming firm and nudging outward, his primordial instinct expressed itself and he began to suckle them. Kevin moaned with delight and surprise at the erotic sensation.

Casey, encouraged by his partner's expressions of pleasure, began to use his lips and tongue to continue the exploration of the wonderful terrain that lay between the nipples and the treasure below. He soon reached the bushy thicket of pubic hair that lay under a pulsating pole. He paused to inhale the masculine scent, which stoked the raging fires of lust in him. Clear precum oozed from the tip of Kevin's rod, fell slowly to his stomach, and left a thread as though an invisible spider had begun to spin its web. Casey licked it up eagerly from bottom to top, which positioned his tongue on the tip of a very erect and very hard penis. It required no conscious thought for Casey to lick the inflamed helmet, eliciting gasping moans from his bedmate. Nor was it anything but subconscious behavior when he drew Kevin's cock into his mouth.

It would be impossible to say which of the two men derived more pleasure. The best that can be said is that each was experiencing separate but distinct joy in equal measure. There is sensual elation in both giving and receiving.

Casey sucked and stroked for only a short time before Kevin began instinctively to buck his hips and, in effect, face-fuck his friend, his new lover, his potential life-partner. Kevin had learned how to delay ejaculation when masturbating but the sensations that now engulfed him surpassed, by far, anything he had felt when he stimulated himself. He was at the pinnacle of arousal that triggered an orgasm with no warning. He involuntarily screamed and erupted into Casey's mouth with several volleys of cum.

Casey was taken unaware by the flood of cream that blasted into his mouth. He would not have refused it had he been warned but some of the precious nectar slipped out of his mouth to coat the throbbing cock and nestle into the pubic hair below. He savored the taste for a while (sweeter than his own!) but was forced to swallow to make room for the stream that still came in bursts against the back of his throat.

He held Kevin's cock in his mouth until the last drops of cum oozed out ... and continued to hold it to prolong his pleasure. Inevitably, however, the steely cock softened and he moved up to give his lover a passionate kiss and an embrace. He became concerned when Kevin opened his tear-filled eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

Kevin pulled his lover into an even tighter embrace and sobbed, "Nothing! I'm just so damn happy. It was wonderful! Beyond my wildest hopes!"

When he had recovered from the debilitating orgasm and the powerful, emotional surge of appreciation and affection, Kevin lavished attention on his new lover, experiencing the joy of giving. Casey, like his partner, had the most satisfying orgasm of his life. He wondered: Could it... Would it... get any better as they grew closer and became even more familiar with each other's preferences? Only time would tell. But how the hell could it get any better than this?

They were, with that symbolic union, no longer farm owner and farm hand; they would share the work and the profits as equals, as lovers, as committed partners. Over the next several weeks they would discover the rich variety of bestowing and receiving sensual delight. They would incrementally strengthen their emotional bond and achieve a level of love and devotion that enriched their lives. In time, their joint proprietorship of the farm would be formalized in the county courthouse by signing a new deed as `joint tenants in common.'

As time passed, tongues wagged in the community. Curiosity became conjecture. Speculation became theory. Assumptions became scandalous gossip. None of which was based on the two lovers' behavior in public. They remembered Madge's perceptiveness and confined their intimacy and mutual devotion to the privacy of their home, shielded from view by a stand of stately oaks. They also remembered Madge as the catalyst that shattered their shyness and opened their lives to blissful joy.

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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.