The old house had been unoccupied for as long as I can remember. I don’t know when the widow died but I was twelve the first time I rode my bicycle down Briar Creek Road and explored the abandoned house and barns. By then all the furnishings had been taken, both the house and the barn emptied out. Looking out the window, I wondered who had mowed the weeds, grass, and small trees coming up in the yard. I looked around the living room, the floor filthy with dust, grime, and mouse droppings, surprised the real estate agent didn’t have the place cleaned up. She was representing a niece down in Pensacola on a quick sell. But I knew making it more presentable probably didn’t matter. Anyone looking at the place knew the story, how it had sat for years as the brother and sister refused to sell.
“What do you think?” said Bobby.
“Are you seriously considering buying the place? It’s going to take a lot of work to make it livable.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I’m not saying that. It’s a nice old farmhouse. Hell, I’d live in it if it were fixed up. But are you ready to tackle this project for yourself?”
“I want it for the two of us.”
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. I looked around at Bobby, the stoic farm boy who I loved more than I could put into words. Scared to death to do so, for I didn’t know if Bobby felt the same.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, silly. I want us to have our own place. A place we can be together. Cook together, eat together, sleep together. Have sex when we want to have sex.”
“You’re not concerned what people will say?”
“Fuck ‘em. Seriously, do you think they will really care? We live our lives, and they live their lives, and we leave each other the fuck alone.”
“Your parents won’t be freaked out?”
“Your parents aren’t freaked out, and your dad caught us on the back porch.”
Bobby was right. Just a couple of weeks ago we were on the screen porch, both of us naked, me bent over and Bobby fucking the hell out of me. And suddenly dad drove around the house and didn’t slow until at the barn. I know he saw us, but he never said a word, not to me or Bobby. I guess he figured there was nothing he could say.
But to move in with Bobby, make our relationship official, could that be ignored or accepted?
“How many acres are with the house?”
“Forty.”
“And you think that niece will take two twenty-five for it?”
“The land is worth five thousand an acre since most of it is in hardwoods. I figure I can have the smaller stuff cut out, thin the woods for the larger trees to spread out and get enough to do the kitchen and bathroom, maybe even the whole renovation. The real estate agent said they priced the house at forty-five thousand and no one has made an offer in the last six months. I think she’ll take twenty-five for the house, then 5K an acre for the land.”
“Can we afford it?”
“Dad and I are looking to lease the McCullough place and might check on the Hanks place too.”
“That farm over in Byrneville?”
“Yes.”
“That is a big farm, isn’t it?”
“There’s two hundred fifty acres behind the old place, where the grandmother still lives, and another three hundred acres across the road, winding back down all the way to the creek.”
“I could help you farm it once I help dad get laid by.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Yes.”
You should have seen Bobby jump and kick, saying hot damn this and fuck that. I’d never seen him so excited. I wanted to fuck him right there in that filthy house. But he took me by the hand and led me outside to the back porch, across the rear yard, and into the old barn. There was a hole in the roof letting a shaft of light cut through down to the dirt floor. It illuminated the interior enough for us to see.
“The roof will have to be fixed,” said Bobby pulling me further into the barn until at a ladder leading up to a platform along one side. I climbed, Bobby right behind me. On the platform, I saw the bastard had prepared the space to celebrate. A cooler of iced down beer. A couple of camp chairs sitting by a large blanket on the swept floor.
“You’ve prepared.”
“Yes,” said Bobby as he came up behind me slipping arms around my waist. Holding me tight, a kiss to the neck, a push against my ass, and I moaned. I pushed back with my ass.
My shirt was unbuttoned and pulled off the shoulders. His hands moved over my chest and stomach and back up to the chest manipulating one nipple then the other. I shivered and felt my cock stir. The hands undid my jeans, worked then down my legs. My boxers followed freeing my cock. A hand took me and stroked until fully erect.
I turned in Bobby’s arms and went to my knees. I buried my face into the crotch of his jeans, mouthing the cock until he was pushing against it. I undid his jeans and pulled everything down letting his cock slip free in my face. I rubbed my face on it, then licked it, dragged my tongue along the thickening shaft, then slipped the head between my lips and buried my nose in his public hair.
Hands grabbed me by the hair and worked my mouth on his cock. It aroused me to be used by Bobby. To have him use my mouth to pleasure his cock. I kept my lips tight around that thick cock as it moved through them. When Bobby slowed, not ready to cum, I opened my mouth wide and let him slow pump his cock over my tongue.
“Fuck…Rory.”
He pushed his cock slowly over my tongue until he shuddered, then he pumped it faster. Shoved it into my throat until a thick wad of cum hit the back of it. I swallowed and kept swallowing as wad after wad erupted from his cock.
Just as the last wad landed in my belly I was maneuvered to my back and thighs pressed to my chest. I felt the full weight of him, how he pushed down my legs angling my ass up for his cock. It raked across my ass, slid along the perineum, over my hole making me moan, and banged into my tightening nut sac making me shudder.
“Bobby. Fuck me.”
That fat cock pressed against my tightness, then it stretched me open. I shivered and moaned as my hole stretched to take that cock. Inch after fat inch sank into me as my own cock drooled on my stomach.
“Fuck,” I uttered, dragging out the sound of each letter.
The hands tightened on my legs, pushed down again making it hard to breathe, and Bobby began to fuck. A slow deep push, a long slow tug out, slowly building up his pace until in a slow fuck. I felt every inch, every fat inch working through my opening. Our fuck seemed to last forever. My only awareness being Bobby and his cock working deep inside me. He pumped that cock with a hard fast fuck, then a slow one, pushing me to the point of release, and as if Bobby knew it, he began to fuck with a renewed hard fast pace, smacking against my ass with such force that I soon pumped out a load across my chest and stomach.
“FUCK!” exclaimed Bobby as he hammered my ass. I knew every shove into my depths was one more ejaculation, and when he slowed, savoring the pleasure of another release.
It took longer than anticipated. The renovation ran into problems with finding a suitable contractor, then getting the materials. Inspections were agonizingly slow, mornings and afternoons spent waiting. But the day came when the house was finished and we were putting furniture in place, hanging photographs on the walls, and all those small things that made a house a home. Despite the air conditioning keeping the house cool, our exertions and constant going out in the heat of the day caused us to sweat and feel dirty.
“Fuck, Bobby, let’s take a break,” I said coming into the small kitchen.
He turned from putting dishes in the cabinet and smiled. He knew what I meant, and it was no relaxing break I sought, but one to exert ourselves in a different way. I tugged off my T-shirt, dropping it on the floor. I pushed down the flimsy shorts and boxers, stepping out of them as I approached him. He undid his jeans and spread the front open revealing no underwear, just pubes and the base of that fat cock. I went to my knees and buried my face in those pubes as I kissed the base of the cock. I tugged down the jeans, slowly, revealing inch after inch of that cock, kissing and licking until the head slipped free and I could capture it in my mouth.
I sucked greedily on it. I tongued the head. Buried it in my mouth to the point I could breathe. I worked my lips along its length. I slow-stroked the spit slick thing while sucking one nut then the other in my mouth. I tugged one until Bobby shuddered.
Then I sucked for him to cum. I wanted that load, my own cock hard from my desire for it. I felt his hands on my head, how the fingers combed through my hair then balled into fists, holding my head. Bobby fucked my mouth, pumped that fat cock through my lips and over my tongue. It banged the roof of my mouth, cut off my air, and drooled its sweet slick. Then it filled my mouth with cum, pumped a couple wads down my throat, and I took every drop, not letting one slip through my lips.
Then Bobby was manhandling me, pulling me to my feet, spinning me around, and pushing me backwards until my ass bumped the dining table. He roughly lifted me on it, grabbed my legs, flipping me to my back as he raised them up. His cock raked across my ass, then pushed against my tightness. I gripped the edge of the table and looked into his eyes.
“Do it. Do it, Bobby. Put it in me. Fuck my ass.”
“Fuck…yeah,” Bobby uttered.
I shivered as I stretched to take him. There was no pain, for I took him all the time now. In the mornings, or at noon, or in the evenings, and some days all three times. We fucked on the porch while it rained. In the barn, both filthy and sweaty, until exhausted. We fucked in the yard after hosing off or at the back of the property where Harold Gibson was building our fishpond. And we fucked in every room in the house, as we were doing now in the kitchen.
Bobby was riled up. Horny and ready. He buried that cock in my ass, tightened his hold on each leg, and fucked. Fucked hard, rocking me on the table. I heard it screech across the floor when he hammered my ass, the sound of it echoing in the room.
I was empty. Bobby stepped back, cock sticking straight out, hard and dripping. I knew what he wanted, and climbed off the table, turned around, and lay my chest on it. He pulled my cock back and kicked my legs apart. My cock was aimed at the floor pressed tight to the edge of the table. Bobby’s cock penetrated me again, sank halfway into my hole, then piston at a furious pace. My moans reverberated with the screech of the table moving across the floor. But the smack of flesh against flesh was louder, a rhythm of fucking that made me more excited, my arousal increased until I wanted to cum.
“Fuck Rory…take me…take…”
Bobby’s voice drifted off as he slammed hard into my ass and kept jamming hips against it as he pumped out a second load deep into my ass.
I was pulled to my feet, and I turned and rested my ass on the edge of table as Bobby went to his knees. He took my drooling cock, sucked it until his nose pressed into my abdomen. I clutched the edge of the table as Bobby sucked and cum trickled down one thigh. His head moved back and forth, and I closed my eyes focusing on the feel of it.
Then I came.
I came into the house stripping off my filthy clothes. I had been helping Mr. Gibson with finishing up the pond, planting shade trees on the hillside that had been cleared for the new work and planting grass over the dam to keep it from eroding. I had worked on the pier that would extend out twenty feet until my hands were calloused and aching. Now, I wanted a shower. I dropped my clothes in the hamper in the mudroom and padded naked to our bathroom. Bobby was due back any minute from going to Mobile for some special ordered part, and I wanted to be showered before he got home.
I showered quickly, efficiently, shampoo, soap, then rinsing all the suds away. I dried off and hung the towel to dry. Then I went into the bedroom, through the door, heading to the living room where I would sit naked, waiting for Bobby. I was horny and he would take care of it as soon as he got home.
