Wyatt pulled to a stop in the wheat field, putting the grain truck into park. He swung open the door and climbed out, standing on the step, bracing himself on the top of the door. He watched the combine moving across the field harvesting the wheat. He expected them to be finished by the end of the day and he felt a disappointment that it was happening far too often over the last four years. Someone would be around, someone attractive, then just as quick, they would be gone. Like Jack, the son who had been operating the combine.
He didn’t know if Jack was still operating it or if there had been a switch, letting Jack’s father back in it. All he knew was Jack was four years older, now twenty-two and such an attractive guy it made him act stupid when around him. Just one more missed opportunity by his way of thinking.
Looking south across the field of wheat stubble, all the way to the far horizon, Wyatt wondered if he would have any opportunity to explore what it meant to be attracted to other guys before he left for college. Would he show up on campus a virgin, and he grimaced at the thought of it. He wanted to explore those things he saw online. The sucking of another’s cock, the licking of nuts and ass, and the penetrating of an ass and fucking it to release. He adjusted his cock as he imagined what it might be like.
Wyatt eased the semi out of the field and headed toward the grain elevator. It was dark, nearly ten o’clock, and he had to hurry to get there before they closed. He was the last truck, the one that had the last bins of wheat, and not being fully loaded, he was able to get to speed quickly, pushing the rig to move.
At the grain elevator, he pulled in behind three trucks, easing forward as each one pulled off the scales and eased around to the elevator to unload. By the time he was in line at the elevator, the first truck was unloading into the pit. He shut down and climbed out, walking to the pit. He saw Matthew Bradley; the driver of the truck being unloaded standing next to someone he didn’t know. A new person, one that hadn’t been there earlier at the elevator, and he approached while sizing him up.
The guy had a ballcap pushed up on the head revealing an attractive face and standing next to Matthew, Wyatt saw he was a little under six feet tall, probably five foot ten or so, and he looked mid-twenties, maybe a little older. And the body within the clothes seemed muscular, the sleeveless plaid shirt revealing bulging biceps and the jeans fit tight around a round ass. Damn, Wyatt thought as he drew near.
“…we’re to the north, near the state line,” said Matthew.
“How many more loads do you think you’ll have?” said the new guy.
“Ten to twelve, I think. Wyatt, how’s it going?”
“Good.”
“Hey, I’m Hank.”
“Hank, Wyatt. You just started? You weren’t here the last time I unloaded.”
“Yes. I was supposed to start tomorrow but Randall got a call his wife was going into labor, so they called me in to finish the evening.”
“Where you from?”
“Coffeyville, down near Evergreen, but I live in Commerce now.”
“What brought you here?” said Matthew.
“I…huh…had a disagreement with my boss and decided to make a change instead of getting into conflicts with him.”
“Did you work at a grain elevator in Coffeyville?”
“Yes.”
“I know the guy who manages it. A nasty cuss if you ask me.”
“And he likes to hold a grudge,” Hank uttered as he moved to shut the bottom of one hopper then the next under the trailer. “Okay Matthew, you’re good to go.”
Wyatt backed up as the next rig pulled in, one from their farm, and he nodded at Carl behind the wheel as he passed, putting the trailer over the pit. Hank slipped the handle on the front hopper and opened it, then stepped to the next one and opened it.
Wyatt watched as Hank captured some grain in a small bucket for testing, then adjusted the hopper doors. When Hank stepped back and Wyatt saw Carl wasn’t climbing out of the truck, he moved up next to him.
“Do you know how many more trucks the Baker farm will be sending today?” said Hank.
“Just one more; mine,” said Wyatt.
“You drive for the Bakers?”
“Actually, I’m the youngest son.”
“Oh, part of the empire,” joked Hank.
“Something like that, but I’m letting my older brother have it.”
“Really?”
“Yep, I’m heading to college in the fall.”
“Leaving the farm?”
“Two families living off the farm is enough. My brother is getting married this summer and knowing him, he’ll have two or three kids before the honeymoon is over.”
Hank laughed, shaking his head. “Not me.”
“You’re not married?”
“No.”
“I’m not getting married either.”
“Going to live the life of a playboy,” said Hank, looking around to Wyatt.
“Maybe,” uttered Wyatt, getting frustrated by the male specimen in front of him and all the straight talk of marriage. “Maybe I want something else,” he added, boldly, wondering how Hank would respond.
Hank looked around again, this time the eyes lingering on him, looking down then up. Then he went to the trailer, closed each hopper, and banged on the side of the trailer. “You can go,” he yelled out, and Carl pulled forward heading back to the scales.
The next rig pulled in, a driver Wyatt didn’t know, and he noticed the company name on the door realizing it was out of Montgomery, part of a harvest operation that came through the area. The driver stayed in the cab as Hank opened each hopper, took a sample, then stepped back watching the grain drop into the pit.
“How long have you been in Commerce?” said Wyatt.
“Today will make four days.”
“You renting a place?”
“Yes, an apartment on the east side of town.”
“Apartment? There are apartments in Commerce?”
“Yes, fairly nice ones.”
“I figured you would be renting a house.”
“I looked at a couple, but the apartments are a lot nicer, and I don’t have to mow the yard.”
Hank went to the trailer, adjusted the doors to each hopper and watched each closely until they the grain stopped dropping out, then he closed each hopper, banged on the side of the trailer and stepped back. The rig pulled away as Wyatt climbed back into his rig, started the motor, and pulled forward until the trailer was over the pit. He shut down, and climbed out, moving next to Hank.
They were alone, no other trucks in the line. Fans from the elevator and the sound of grain falling into the pit were all they could hear. Wyatt kept trying to work out what to say, how he could figure out if Hank was willing to mess around. He saw the look and how Hank had commented when asked about being married. It fueled his fantasies, made him imagine the possibility of Hank being gay, or at least bi-sexual. He wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, just someone to fuck around with so he wasn’t some dumb farm boy arriving on campus a virgin. But he knew the chances of Hank being willing were slim to none. There just were not that many people in their small town and the surrounding areas, including Commerce and Picher to the north. He knew the odds that there had to be a few guys that were gay, but the chances it was Hank…that seemed a bridge too far in his mind.
“You have a girlfriend?” said Hank.
It caught Wyatt off guard, and he scoffed louder than he meant to, then looked away fighting the urge to laugh, his usual reaction when he blundered.
“That’s funny?” said Hank.
“No…yes, it is,” Wyatt admitted, taking a chance to see how Hank would respond.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen as of February. How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Damn, almost jailbait,” Wyatt joked, knowing that was what Hank was thinking about him.
“Jailbait my ass,” Hank uttered as he adjusted the hoppers. “You’re almost empty.
No, I’m not, thought Wyatt. “Have you had dinner?” He knew he could play it off, just two guys having to work late, one inviting the other to grab a late dinner. “Woodrow’s is open till eleven. If we hurry, we can be there in five minutes.”
“I’m filthy with grain dust and you’re in a rig that will be difficult to park in town.”
“You’re right.”
“But if you don’t mind a real late dinner, I could go by the department store on the north side on the way home and get some steaks, if you would want to come over to my place? They have grill on the grounds and—”
“I’d like that,” interrupted Wyatt. “I can rush home, grab a shower, and get to your place as fast as possible.”
Hank smiled, as he reached into his shirt pocket taking out a small note pad and pen. He wrote out his address, tore the page out and handed it to Wyatt. “The building is on the east side of the complex, so you can turn off 34 onto Chester Street or Howard Street.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
It took fifteen minutes to drive back to the barn and park. Fifteen more minutes to rush inside, shower and put on clean clothes, a white tank top that showed off his shoulders and arms, and a worn frayed pair of jeans that fit snug around his ass. He ran out of the house, hopped into his old truck, a 2013 white Dodge that despite its age still looked good. He motored down the gravel drive, barked the rear tires once on the highway, and sped away, heading to Commerce for dinner with Hank, something he tried hard not to think of as a date.
Wyatt was soon pulling into the parking lot at the apartment complex. Once parked, he headed toward the building Hank lived in when he saw his silhouette at a grill, smoke rising from it. He angled toward him, cutting across the grass.
“You made it,” said Hank.
“Yep,” said Wyatt as he came to the picnic table next to the grill, sitting down with his back to the table. He looked at Hank, who was shirtless wearing just a pair of worn jeans. The worn areas and frays were white and seemed to glow in the dim light, but the thing that captured his eyes the most was the lean muscular upper body. He considered Hank such a temptation, wondering if going without a shirt was meant to be a tease, and if it wasn’t, then Hank was evil, just pure evil to be tempting him so.
“How do you want your steak?” said Hank.
“Medium rare.”
“Perfect. Then we are ready to remove them from the grill. Let’s get inside and eat.”
Wyatt pushed back from the table, looking across it at Hank. He looked at the light brown hair, how it dried with some natural curl giving Hank a tousled sexy appearance. He scanned down the attractive face, the slightly long neck, then the smooth chest. When he looked up, he saw Hank staring back, and he cut his eyes down to the table at their plates and glasses.
“Since you cooked, I’ll wash the dishes,” said Wyatt.
“You don’t have—”
“I don’t mind doing it.” Wyatt climbed to his feet and picked up Hank’s plate, stacking it on top of his, then he picked up the utensils, putting them on top. He picked up the plates, then picked up the glasses and headed to the sink. He put the drain stopper in one sink basin and once the water ran hot, he squirted detergent into it and filled it. He set the dirtied dishes into the sink and waited for the water to rise above them.
As he put his hands into the soapy water Hank came up next to him.
“I’ll rinse and dry.”
“Okay,” Wyatt replied, cutting his eyes over looking at how the jeans fit around the waist, loose and gapped, making him wonder how they stayed up. Then he tried to look into the gap despite knowing he wasn’t going to see anything.
Wyatt washed and Hank rinsed then dried. After just a few minutes the few dishes and utensils were sitting on the countertop ready to be put away. Wyatt turned the faucet on to rinse the sink, then pulled the stopper, letting the water drain. He lifted his hand out of the water seeing the suds sticking to it. He grinned, then slung the suds against Hank’s stomach.
“HEY,” Hank cried out, jumping back, then he reached out, slapping his hand through the water flowing splashing Wyatt. Then they tried to pull the other away from the sink as they reached for the suds or the water. They began to giggle while wrestling around, until Wyatt lost his balance and fell back against the countertop with Hank up against him.
Frozen in place, Wyatt looked into the brown eyes, at how they were looking at him, and he felt his heart racing. His hands were holding the waist, feeling the bare skin. He felt himself pull Hank closer, pulling until the bare chest pressed against his own. Then he leaned up and kissed him. He felt Hank’s hands come to his waist then slip around it pulling them tighter together.
“Fuck,” Hank exclaimed when he pulled back, gasping for breath. “I’m going to suck your dick.”
Hank stooped before Wyatt, roughly tugged on the jeans, pulled the zipper down, worked jeans and boxers down until mid-thigh, freeing the cock. He moved to it, head angled down capturing it in his mouth. He pushed forward until his nose was buried in the abdomen.
Wyatt gasped, clutched the countertop edge, and struggled not to work his hips as his cock stirred and hardened. He watched Hank work his cock, the mouth working it until he was erect. Then the mouth moved along its length until it was spit slick.
“Fuck…suck it…suck me,” exclaimed Wyatt.
Hands braced on his thighs as the mouth moved faster, lips tight around his cock. The sensation of the lips sliding along his cock and the tongue manipulating the head of it made him shudder. He put his hands on the head, combing his fingers through the curling hair until he could close his hands into fists, holding the head in place as he began to pump his hips. He worked his cock through the lips that Hank kept tight around it. He pushed deeper and deeper until he cut off Hank’s air. He pumped faster and faster until unable to hold back. Then with a loud gasp, he shoved forward and came.
Wyatt shivered as Hank licked the last drop of cum from the head of his cock. He watched the tongue move over the head then Hank look up smiling.
“Stand up,” Wyatt uttered breathlessly, desperate to experience Hank’s cock.
Hank stood up and Wyatt saw the jeans were undone, falling below the knees as Hank came to stand before him. The cock was hard, curved up with an arrow shaped head. It was obvious Hank had been stroking it while sucking his cock.
“Go on, Wyatt, suck me,” said Hank.
Wyatt went to his knees and holding to the legs, he moved his mouth to the cock. He let the head slip through his lips, then inch after inch of the shaft as he pushed forward until over half was in his mouth. He relished the way the cock filled his mouth. How it lay on his tongue and when it flexed, bumped into the roof of his mouth.
He moved on the cock, slide his lips along it, taking more and more until the head pushed into his throat. He sucked, tongued the head, and at times licked the nuts and tugged them tight in the sac.
When he moved on the cock again, working his lips along its length, hands rested on his head, then held him in place as the cock began to fuck his mouth. Suddenly, it flexed then shot wad after wad of cum until his mouth was full, forcing him to swallow.
Hank stepped out of his jeans and stood naked. His cock was still hard.
“We’re not done,” Hank uttered.
“No, we’re not,” Wyatt uttered as he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, slipped off his shirt, and followed Hank to his bedroom.
The room was small, sparsely furnished, just a bed and a small table with a lamp on one side. The bed was unmade, the covers laying across the foot, and Hank pushed them closer to the foot, then took Wyatt by the hand and pulled him down on it.
“I want you to fuck me,” said Hank as he lay on his back holding Wyatt on top of him.
“Really,” uttered Wyatt, assuming Hank would want to fuck him. He worked his hips, pumped his cock along side of Hank’s cock. Then he raised his hips higher, and his cock slipped beneath Hank’s nuts sliding along the ass. He aligned it with the opening and pushed. He shivered with the squeeze on the head of his cock, but he didn’t stop, just kept pushing until over half of it was buried in Hank.
“Fuck, that’s nice,” said Hank.
“Yeah,” uttered Wyatt.
Wyatt tugged outward, then pushed inward, over and over, sinking deeper and deeper. He increased his pace until in a hard fast fuck. The bed rocked, squeaking as loudly as Hank’s moans and grunts. Wyatt grabbed the legs and pushed them apart as he hammered cock into him. He looked along the masculine body, the skin glistening in the dim light. He looked at the hard cock drooling on the stomach. He looked at the tight nut sac and below it, his cock moving easily in the ass. He worked his hips until muscles burned with his exertion and his own body felt feverish, sweat trickling down his face, chest, and back.
Wyatt pulled out and looked at the gapping hole and his hard cock flexing up and down, then he shoved back into the ass and fucked. He pushed the legs to one side, twisting Hank at the hips, and hammered his insides. He moved around, holding the legs down, and fucked down into the ass making Hank cry out and beg to be fucked, fucked hard. And he kept up his pace, until gasping for breath and felt his need for release. He jammed his cock into the ass and kept jamming hips against it, then exploded in it. He shuddered with every ejaculation until finally spent.
When he pulled out, he knew he wasn’t finished. He was still aroused, still hard as a rock. He moved around and took each leg behind the knee and folded Hank in half and sank his cock in the leaking ass. He shoved all the way inward and laid over the big muscular body. He wrapped it up beneath him, smothered it with his body, and slow fucked the ass, relishing the feel of it around his cock.
The shower ran warm, the water cascading down Hank’s back. Wyatt held the waist while fucking the ass. He slow fucked it, pushing inward all the way then pulling outward until his cock hovered between them. He did it over and over until the ass pushed back on his cock not letting him slip out of it. He smiled at the relentless desire, the way Hank couldn’t get enough, and he held tight to the waist and began to fuck to cum.
He hammered his cock inside Hank, slammed hips against ass while nipping the flesh along one shoulder. He shoved him against the wall, pushed the side of the face hard against it, and fucked until bellowing with another release.
The summer passed too quickly, and Wyatt wondered what it meant to Hank that he was leaving for college. He tried to broach the subject, but the two of them were stoic about such things, never talking about their relationship, whatever it was.
On the last Friday night before he was to leave for college, Wyatt lay next to Hank, the two of them sweaty from a hard rowdy fuck. He looked at the familiar body, sweaty and covered with its own load, his load pumped into the ass, and he tried to find the words to talk about his leaving.
“You don’t know how to talk about it, do you?” said Hank.
“Huh?”
“This is the last night we’ll have before you leave, and you’ve not mentioned it once. You don’t know how to talk about it, do you?”
“It’s just…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say the truth. We had a fun summer together, and now you’re moving on. It’s as simple as that.”
“You’re not—”
“What? Hurt? Believed we had a thing going on,” said Hank, chuckling. “I’m no fool. I know exactly what this is, I knew from the start. You were desperate to be with another man, and you found me attractive. Or I hope you think I’m attractive.” Hank rolled over to face Wyatt. “I have a life here, and you, your life is out there somewhere.”
“Want you get lonely?”
“You think you’re the only cock in the region.”
Wyatt was surprised, knowing the truth of what Hank was saying. “I’m not the only one you’re fucking.”
“Nope. At first, I considered him like you. Someone who wanted companionship before moving on. But…”
Wyatt laughed. “You’re falling for him.”
Hank smiled. “Maybe.”
Wyatt was going to be late. The building was one he had not been in before and its maze of corridors were confusing. Even the room numbers made no sense to him. He turned a corner, looking at the room numbers quickly realizing he was once again going the wrong way.
He wanted to scream with frustration. He looked around wondering who to stop for directions when he saw someone who had to be an instructor. The man was attractive, a real distraction, and he had to remind himself he was running late.
“Excuse me, could you tell me where I can find this class?”
