When my Grampa died, I inherited his farm. Dad got his bank accounts, but I got the farm. I don't know what Gramp's thinking was. What was I supposed to do with a farm? My dad, who was maybe a bit peeved that he never got the farm as well as the money, was no help. All he could suggest was "sell it!"

That was easier said than done. Although Gramps had managed to eke out a living on the farm it was not a big money-maker, and needed lots of work just to make it presentable. I decided to take a couple of months off my very lucrative job as a video game programmer to get the place whipped into shape for the market.

So it was that I found myself spending my summer basically as a labourer on my own farm, doing work that I was not accustomed to.

To assist me, I had the help of Jack, the sole farm hand Gramps had employed. He was a handsome young blonde guy, about my own age - 24 or 25, I'd say - and had been with my Gramps since he was 15, just the two of them, way out there in the sticks. My Grams had died a couple of years before Gramps hired Jack.

From the very first day, I could feel that Jack resented me. I just assumed that he was so used to my Grampa as boss, that it was hard for him to accept a boss his own age, a tenderfoot to boot!

Even though I assured Jack he would have a job here on the farm until I sold it, and that I would put in a good word for him to the future owner, whoever that might be, Jack remained surly and resentful. Although we worked side by side, ate at the same table - meals Jack cooked - and slept in the same house, we never really talked much in the first few days I was there. Any attempt I made at conversation was passed off with nods and grunts and monosyllabic answers.

Jack mostly continued his routine of looking after the few milk cows, the small herd of beef cattle, the pigs, the chickens, and the ripening fields of corn, most of which went to silage. I would just follow along, helping when I could, but mostly just keeping out of his way while I tried to get some idea of what needed to be done to sell the place.

I was a cowboy "wannabe" and Jack did unbend enough to teach me how to ride Heather, the tamest one of the two saddle horses on the farm. I think he really got a secret laugh at my clumsy first attempts to swing up into the saddle. But embarrassed though I was, I didn't fail to notice him eyeing up my body when I shed my shirt when I got too sweaty.

Actually, it was later that day that he softened towards me. We found we had something in common - sex!

There were two barns on the property, one a shiny new metal-clad one; the other a rickety wooden affair on the far side of the farm, where the original farmhouse had been until Gramps built a new farmhouse for his bride - my Grams. The old barn was practically falling down, an eyesore. Jack actually suggested that we recover what we could from it, tear it down, and burn the rubble.

We used the beat-up old farm pick-up to drive across the farm to inspect it, both shirtless on this hot July day.

There was not really that much that was salvageable - a pile of broken bricks from the original farm chimney, which could be used to build an outdoor barbecue; a few bales of mouldy hay; a scythe, in case anyone ever wanted to mow hay; and other junk.

We loaded some of the bricks and the bales of hay onto the back of the old pick-up. By the time we had s finished we were both quite sweaty, and I suggested we take a break. Jack made some snide comment about "pussy city boys" but I noticed he was only too glad to retire into the shade of the barn for a rest break.

I remained outside for a few minutes, surveying my farm from this viewpoint, which I had never seen before. When I ventured in, it took a few moments for my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. I didn't notice Jack at first. When I did catch sight of him, I got quite a surprise. He was stretched out on a shelf under one of the glassless windows, his hat still perched on his head, but his jeans down below his knees.

It was obvious that he had been jerking off, for his large cock showed rigidly sticking our below his bent knees.

"What are you doing?" I said stupidly. I knew exactly what he was doing.

"What does it look like?" he sneered. "Don't you ever beat your meat? I do, often. It's about the only sex I get on this farm these days - since your grandfather died." What was implied in that last sentence was not lost on me, but I chose not to examine it too closely right then. I was more interested in the moment, and with Jack's cock, which was very inviting.

"Sure, I jerk off," I admitted. "Often."

"Why don't you join me then?" he suggested.

I didn't need my arm twisted. In a moment, I had slipped off my boots and followed them with my jeans. Like Jack, I was going commando, so I didn't have any underwear to worry about.

I sat on the remains of the pile of bricks, my cock as hard as Jack's.

"Nice dick," Jack commented, "but that can't be very comfortable. Let's go outside in the sunshine."

"What if someone sees us?" I asked.

"Who's gonna see us?" he scoffed. "We're half a mile from the main road and half a mile from our nearest neighbours." He was right, of course. I just wasn't used to being naked in the open air.

Jack hopped down off the shelf, and holding his jeans up with one hand, his huge cock sticking out through the fly, he led the way outside into the sunshine.

I just couldn't take my eyes off that cock of his. It poked out of his fly like a huge snake, its single eye hypnotizing me.

"Like that, eh?" he asked, almost unnecessarily. It was obvious that I was transfixed. I'd always suspected I was gay. I'd had fantasies of sex with a man; I'd had crushes on some of my buddies; I'd bought gay mags and jerked off looking at the naked men and their cocks; but I'd never been in a situation like this before, with a live, horny man urging me on. For the first time I had to admit it: I was gay - I am gay - and I wanted to have sex with Jack!

Jack, meantime, was shedding his pants, boots and socks. Soon he was naked like me, standing out there in the sunshine, by the old pick-up, pushing his hips forward, thrusting his huge reptilian cock which was snaking down his leg, beckoning me.

"Yes," I admitted softly, breathlessly.

"You want to suck it?" he asked.

"I dunno," I told him. "I've never sucked a cock. What's it taste like?" I asked.

"Delicious! Like nothing you've ever tasted before," Jack assured me.

"I'm afraid to," I confessed.

"That's just what your grandfather said - the first time. After that he couldn't get enough!" Jack told me.

"My grandfather?" I queried. "You mean you and he … ?" I stopped.

Jack finished for me. "… were lovers? Yes, from almost the first day I came to work for him. We slept in the same bed for the last ten years. I miss him so much. And you are so much like him." he finished, sadly.

"If I'm so much like him, why do you dislike me so much?" I asked, intrigued.

"I don't dislike you. I just resent you. You got the farm. Your grandfather had promised to leave it to me in his will. I guess he just never got round to writing a new will. I wasn't even mentioned."

That was true. The will that went to probate was written soon after my grandmother's death. No other will was found. Jack wasn't mentioned and had no claim to anything. I had kept Jack on as an employee at the request of my Grandfather's lawyer, who probably knew about their relationship, but had said nothing other than "Jack deserves to be looked after, in one way or another."

"But that's water under the bridge," Jack went on. "Now are you going to suck this or not?"

I grinned. "If it was good enough for Gramps, it's good enough for me!"

I dropped to my knees in the dirt in front of Jack, and for the first time in my life I sucked man cock. It was the first time too that I sucked Jack's lovely cock - but not the last!

As Jack had said, it was like nothing I had ever tasted before - and it was delicious! But that first time, I was still leery of everything.

"Promise you won't piss in my mouth," I begged, when that thought came to my mind while I was forcing his cock down my throat, and amazingly not gagging.

"I promise!" he agreed.

"Or cum in my mouth?" I added.

"That's what you say now," he laughed. "I bet you'll be begging guys to cum in your mouth before long!"

As much as I enjoyed the novelty and the thrill of sucking Jack's cock, I was still afraid that he would break his promise and piss in my mouth or cum in it. I soon stopped and stood, looking at Jack in a new light. Both our cocks stood hard and ready. Jack's eyes appraised my rod with lustful eyes.

"Nice dick!' he commented. "Want to fuck me with it?"

Again, I was hesitant. "I dunno," I told him. "I've never fucked anyone before." That was a hard admission for a 25-year-old, good-looking guy to make, but it was true. I'd fended off the advances of several girls with all sorts of flimsy excuses, and no guy had every hit on me like that - or not that I had realized.

"You'll love it," he assured me. "It's even better than cock-sucking! C'mon," he begged. "Do me!" He had grasped my manhood with his hand and squeezed it imploringly. That was enough to convince me.

"OK, but not out here in the open," I agreed.

"Fine," said Jack, and led me by the cock just inside the open doors of the barn. In a pool of sunlight from a hole in the roof, he knelt on all fours in the dirt of the barn floor. "Fuck me," he ordered.

Somehow I didn't need any instruction to know what to do next. I even used a few gollops of spit to lube up my cock before entering him. Still standing, I straddled him and lowered my stiff weapon to the bullseye of his beckoning asshole. I pushed my knob against the puckered circle and thrust gently. To my amazement, his hole seemed to open to welcome my rod, and it slipped smoothly into his welcoming depths. I had never felt anything like it before. It was ten times better than even my best masturbations. The warm, moist interior enveloped my dick and massaged it as Jack clenched his butt-muscles around it.

But the pressures of the situation and the excitement were too much for me. After only a few thrusts, I could feel the need for release building up in my groin.

"I've got to pull out," I told him. "I'm going to cum. I can't help it!"

"No!" Jack ordered. "Cum inside me. It'll be like having some of your grandfather inside me again."

So, kinky as it may sound, that's what I did, spurting again and again deep into Jack's bowels until I was spent and flopped down on his back to catch my breath, before rising up off him and pulling my cock out of his hole.

To my amazement, my dick came out of him shiny but clean, not covered in shit as I thought it might be. I rubbed my fingers over the knob and sniffed them. They didn't smell of shit, either.

Jack saw me doing this and chuckled.

"I gave myself a douche this morning - just in case," he told me. "But most times your dick will come out clean, anyway." I wasn't quite sure what he was talking about, but I left it at that.

"Mmmm, that felt so good," Jack sighed as we wandered back out into the sunlight, still stark naked. "I love being fucked just as much as I love fucking."

"Doesn't it hurt?" I asked.

"The first time quite a lot at first - then it starts to feel so good. After that it just gets better and better until you can't get enough of it. Your grandfather had a big cock, even bigger than mine, and I loved every inch of it."

"I want you to fuck me now," I said hesitantly. "I want to try it, to feel what it's like."

"You sure?" he questioned.

"I'm sure," I told him.

"OK, let's go back into the barn!"

"No," I stopped him. "Let's do it out here in the sunshine!" I was getting very brave.

The ground outside the barn was very rough, so Jack suggested "Climb up here," as he hopped up into the box of the old pick-up. I climbed up beside him. He pulled the tailgate closed.

"Hold onto the tailgate and bend over," he instructed me. I did as he suggested. I could hear him behind me, spitting on his hand and lubricating his cock. Then I could feel his cockhead at my hole. I clenched it, involuntarily.

"Relax." Jack told me, soothingly. I did as he suggested once more, letting out my breath and feeling my arse muscles relax too.

Then he was pushing into me. As Jack had said, it hurt! I had never felt such pain. I wanted to cry out to him to stop, but I didn't. Jack must have sensed how much it hurt me, because he paused, allowing my sphincter to become accustomed to this strange object's invasion. And gradually the pain subsided.

"OK," I whispered, and Jack pressed forward once more. The pain was still there, but not as intense as previously. Then something happened. Jack's cock burst through some barrier inside me, and the pain was gone. All I could feel was the wonder and thrill of having his mancock inside me, sliding further and further into me, making him one with me. It was a sense of fulfillment, of completion, of something I had been searching for.

For a moment I was jealous of my own grandfather, who must have felt this way many times in the ten years he and Jack had been together.

I don't know how long Jack fucked me for, but it seemed like forever, and every moment of it was better than the moment before. I didn't want it to stop - ever!

But nothing lasts forever, and soon Jack whispered in my ear, "I'm going to cum inside you." I nodded my head "ok" unable to speak, so engrossed with being fucked was I. Moments later I felt him tense, and I imagined I could feel his juices flowing into me - or maybe I could feel them. I know I wanted to.

When he pulled out of me, and we stood together there in the sunshine in the back of the pickup with the bales of hay and stack of bricks, I felt wonderful, but also had a sense that something was missing. At that point I wasn't sure what it was, I just sensed it.

When we went back into the barn to collect my clothes, Jack pointed something out: "You're hard again!"

And I was, too!

"Let me suck you off," he suggested. Yes, I wanted to feel his mouth over my dick, to have him tasting me as I had tasted him.

He dropped to his knees as I had done, and his mouth opened and he swallowed my knob. I felt suddenly weak at the knees and had to grasp the remains of the wooden door to save myself from falling. I could feel his tongue and teeth working my knob, rubbing the sensitive underside. I could feel the suction and the warmth and the wetness.

While Jack's mouth worked on the head of my cock, his hand was busy with the shaft, pumping me. It did not take me long to respond. Jack knew it was coming and removed his head from my crotch to watch. My cum poured out of me, all over Jack's hand, a virtual flood. But he didn't let any go to waste. He lifted his cummy hand to his mouth and sucked it in. He bent his head to my cock once more and sucked out the rest of my juice.

Then he brought his face to mine. I knew right away what he wanted. I knew that his mouth was full of my cum. I opened my mouth to meet his, to receive what it carried. And we kissed for the first time, and he shared the bounty of my man-juice between us. I had swallowed my own cum before, so I was not appalled. I relished it. I relished, too, our first kiss, and grasped him and held him to me, as we kissed again and again, passionately, hungrily.

And then I realized what had been missing from our sexual adventures till now - intimacy.

Now I felt the first swellings of love for the young man; I began to feel as my Gramps must have felt toward him.

We dressed and drove back to the farmhouse. We did not sleep in separate rooms that night. We shared the bed he had once shared with my Gramps.

And I did not sell the farm as planned. Jack assured me he could make it profitable enough to support him comfortably and bring me in a reasonable profit by getting out of the beef cattle and switching to vealers. There is a big market for veal these days. I made him a partner, and part of any profits he produces will go to buying out my share of the farm.

I go to the farm almost every weekend, and sometimes Jack comes into the city. I don't know where it will go from here, but I know we have developed a love for each other to rival - but not replace - the love for Gramps Jack had. — On second thoughts, make that "Jack has" - and will always have!

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