I’ve Been Up The Shack

I spent the last week up the shack, until last weekend, only coming home for mum's birthday lunch on Monday.

It was nice, peaceful, not internet, no phone. I was enjoying the solitude, on my own, nobody around, just the trees and the gentle breeze, that was until the neighbouring farm's son, Chad, came strolling down the track with what looked like a j in his hand.

Cute. Cropped dark-haired. Muscular. Tan work pants. Maroon hand-knitted jumper. Brown Kelpie.

I was chopping wood for the fire. I put the axe down.

"G'day."

"Hi ya."

"I come over here to get away from my… um… dad, sorry, I didn't realise anyone was here." He shrugged and looked around. "I hope you don't mind."

“No,” I said. Jesus! Look at you, why would I mind. I could feel a buzz in the pit of my stomach. Had I turned into a lecherous old man in my mid thirties?

"Nice car," he said as he walked up to me. "Do you like it?"

I looked over at the GTI sitting under the tree. "Yeah, it's great."

He nodded at it with his chin. "I reckon I want one."

"Yep, they are good. Great to drive."

He held his hand out to shake. "Chad."

I took his warm, fleshy hand in mine. "Josh."

"I live over yonder." He indicated with a flick of his head.

“I come up on the weekends to get away from the city.”

“I run the farm with my dad.”

"Nice to meet you." There was that lecherous tone again, I could hear in the words that tumbled out of my mouth.

He pulled his hand up as if to show me what he had between his fingers. "It's a great place to smoke a spliff." He offered it to me. He raised his shoulders and one eyebrow as if to ask if I wanted any. I took it. "The old man never thinks to look over here... hope ya don't mind."

"No," I said. "I don't mind at all." I kind of said it, as if I was saying why would I mind a hot country boy walking into my life with a joint in his hand... emphasis on the hot country boy.

He smiled a gorgeous smile, as though he understood.

He had me at g'day. I smiled at the stupid thought. Fuck he's handsome, this laid back country boy. Both his eyebrows raised up as I let my eyes drift down his body.

"So... you're the brother?"

Oh, I thought, he's obviously been talking to Daniel. "Yep, in the flesh."

"Your brother told me about you."

"Really? What did he say?"

"Oh, just that you come up here too. That the both of you have this place."

“Yeah, my brother bought it some time ago.”

“From the Johnston’s?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure, really.”

We stood looking at each other momentarily. His face was round and his skin blemish free. He had that healthy glow to him, as though he'd never breathed in anything but fresh country air. His eyes sparkled, I think they were blue.

"Come inside," I said, "I was just about to have a coffee. Want one?"

"Sure," he replied.

We both headed inside with armfuls of the wood I had just cut.

"Great place," he said looking around the shack.

I laughed, it seemed like such a cliche. “Yeah, we like it.”

I sat down and started rolling another joint.

"Ah, you smoke too, good to see."

"Yep." I couldn't help myself. "Relaxes you, gets you in the mood." I watched his face to see if he would react.

"Life would be pretty boring without a bit of weed to get you through."

“Sure is.”

“One of the world’s great herbs.”

It was funny, it felt like I was talking to myself with that comment.

I'd loaded up the open fire before I went outside and the cabin was pretty warm.

"Great fire," he said. He pulled his jumper off, to reveal muscular arms and a thick chest. What I thought were workpants were overalls, under which he had a white t-shirt.

“I love a good fire.”

“Something you don’t see so much in the city.”

“No.”

“All central heating and air-conditioning and then they wonder why their power bills are so high.”

I lit the joint.

“You smoke a lot?”

“I guess, every day, pretty much.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

“I think the whole world does really, something those in charge don’t want to talk about.”

I handed him the joint.

“Well, what’s a boy to do when he’s bored?”

“Not too many options,” I said. “There’s only a couple of things a boy can do on his own.” Was that too obvious? “You know... to relieve the boredom.”

He laughed and there was that gorgeous laugh again. “True.” He laughed again and handed me the joint. “Too true.”

I was pretty stoned by then, a joint, or two before I went outside, his joint and then this joint and I didn’t care too much about being polite. “So, what do you do... on your own...you know... to relieve the boredom?”

His eyes were red and sleepy looking too. “Ha ha.” I handed him the joint. “I come... over here, pretty much and smoke a couple of j’s and then head back over home. How about you?”

“I come up here... you know... to meet the neighbours.”

He looked at me with a long gaze and I gazed back. It was a moment, still and long. He sure was cute.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”

I had coffee made on the stove and I poured him and myself a cup. He had 4 sugars.

"How'd you feel about planting a couple of plants here on your block. I could look after them."

"And... what do I get out of it?" That just came out. I was thinking about what he'd look like in his jocks and I think it came out that way.

He blushed. I hurriedly handed him the joint to change the dynamic. He took it from me.

"I guess that was a bit forward, ay?"

"I think... um... (where was I going with this?) I was too." Not quite what I meant to say. I think I was a bit dazzled by him.

He drank his coffee. I did too.

He smiled. “Um? I need to take a piss.”

“Oh, first door on the left.”

He got up and walked towards the toilet, I watched him go. “Too many coffees I suspect,” he said.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist. Nice arse. Big legs. What a strapping boy.

He came out of the bathroom shaking the water from his just washed hands. His overalls were still unbuttoned to the bottom. I could see the bottom of his white t-shirt underneath which were his vertical stripy jocks.

“So... what do you want?” he said, standing there shaking his hands.

I’ve always had a thing for vertical stripy jocks, I think it was because my school gym teacher used to wear them under his sports shorts. It always turned me on as a kid whenever I got a glimpse of them. I couldn’t help but look at them.

I raise my eyes up to his, which were staring straight at me. “Huh?”

He was smiling coyly. “Um...” He paused, shaking his hands. Had he just realised? Was he about to run from the shack? He stopped shaking his hands. He tilted his head. “For growing the dope plant? You know, if you want to.”

“Oh.” I smiled... and came back from memories of my gym teacher to the two of us there in the shed. “Yeah... I want to...” I want to alright.

He tilted his head the other way. He had understood what I meant, I could see, as he blushed ever so slightly and a sly smile spread across his face.

Again, there was a moment of silence as we looked at each other. “Half each?”

“Sure... I’d be happy with that.”

We smiled at each other.

His hands went to the bottom buttons of his overalls. My eyes followed them, I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. I watched his fingers, I was in that thick dope haze where I just didn’t care any longer about reasonable social norms.

“You got a girlfriend?” he asked.

“No. How about you?”

“Nah...” He was concentrating on the buttons on his overalls. “They just don’t do it for me.” He looked up and blushed noticeably. “I guess I mean, I haven’t met the right girl yet. Hey?” He smiled. “That the same for you?”

He walked back to the fire and stood in front of it.

“No.” What do I say? Am I going to let all my gay brothers down with my answer, I thought? “Um... not... um... really.”

“Oh.”

I started to roll another joint. “Another joint?”

“Sure,” he said.

That hazy dope filled feeling had taken me over and it was now just me and Chad existing in the world. Just he and I. Just the two of us, as my peripheral vision went hazy and we were alone in the world. He was there for me to do with as I pleased, in my dark man-cave existence reality.

I had been playing around with my camera and it was lying on the other couch.

“You into photography?” Chad asked.

I turned my head to look at it and I could feel the pot tilting my balance, even if I was sitting down. “Yes, it’s a hobby of mine.”

“What do you photograph?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t photographers have a subject they like more than others? You know, landscapes, wild life, underwater, or something?”

“Oh... um... all sorts, but I guess people are my favourite subject.”

“Do you want to take some shots of me?”

I looked up from the nearly completed joint. “Um... sure. Why not?”

I lit the joint. The lounge room had a hazy cloud floating in the day light that was shining in through the window. I took a few puffs and then handed it to Chad.

He took the joint. “The only problem...” He laughed. “This makes me as horny as hell.” He laughed again. “Does it do that to you?”

“Sure, that’s what it’s good for.”

He laughed again. “I’ve jacked off a few times while I’ve been over here... before... you know, I’ve headed back to work.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Ha ha.” He handed me back to joint. He had that expectant look on his face, where he was waiting for something to happen. You know, kind of serious, thoughtful, about to say something else.

I laughed too, as though I was joking.

“So, what do you do around here for fun?”

“Oh, not much,” said Chad. “Except, going shooting with the guys.”

“What do you shoot?”

“Foxes, mostly,” he said. “But really it’s an excuse to go out with the guys.”

“Is that exciting?”

“What?”

“Going out with the guys?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I was having my own fantasy about heading out with a bunch of farm boys. That intense feeling in my stomach buzzed some more.

I handed him what was left of the joint. He took it and puffed on it. I watched his lips suck on the roach without saying anything.

“So,” he said as he exhaled a stream of smoke. He coughed. “Two...” he coughed again... “horny boys in a shack in the bush with nobody around,” he said.

I picked up my camera and took a shot. He looked adorable, bleary-eyed and unsteady on his feet.

“Hey,” he said, as though he’d been caught off guard. Then he posed, stiffly. “How about that?”

“Yeah, good. You are a bit stiff.”

“What?” His hand moved towards his crotch before he realised what I’d said. He relaxed instead. “How about that?”

He looked really stoned. His eyes were red, his face flushed.

“Yeah, good.”

“Flex.”

“What?”

“Flex you arms.”

He did.

“Show me your muscles.”

He flexed his arms like a body builder and then laughed. “Like that?”

“Yep.”

“Mr Universe.”

“Yes, you’ve got the idea. Undo your overalls?”

“What?” He sounded concerned.

“For a more casual look.”

The buttons of his overalls popped open. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop.

“Smile.”

He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite work, but it looked good, out-of-it chic.

“Move around... Yeah, good.”

He danced slowly, swivelling his hips seductively. He smiled... wantonly, I liked to think... sexily, serenely. He raised his arms above his head and waved his hands. He turned to face the fire place and wiggled his arse, cute, sexy. He swayed himself back in my direction and stepped his feet, one, two, three, four. He closed his eyes and rocked to the left and then to the right. He smiled at me, as he rolled his arms out in front of me.

The bulge of his stripy jocks poked out through the bottom V of his overall buttons, to show his impressive package. It was hot.

I slipped forward onto the floor and took more shots, as he gyrated around slowly with his hands on the back of his head. He stepped towards me and, just about, pushed his crotch into my face. I started to get hard, as my head spun.

I thought fuck it, suddenly feeling brave and reached forward and grabbed at the elastic of his jocks.

“Fuck man.” He pushed me backwards, I sat backwards on my arse. “You shouldn’t be doing that, I don’t reckon.”

Bullshit is all my stoned brain could think. “Relax man.” Man, I don’t think I have ever said man. “It’s okay, keep dancing, you look great.”

He slipped his hands up behind his head again and started to gyrate slowly again.

I took a few more shots. Then I reached for the elastic of his jocks again and pulled them down. His perfect, half-hard uncut cock fell out. He swivelled his hips. I took it between my lips, the soft foreskin, the smooth knob. I sucked it into my mouth and it was spongy and soft. It inflated quickly and filled my mouth. I slid my mouth all the way over it as it went hard.

He groaned.

I slid my mouth off it, licking the underside with my tongue. Then I slid my mouth down over it again, the hard shaft, rigid and thick. I deep throated him.

He groaned loudly.

I slid my mouth up and down the now rigid pole.

“Oh yeah,” he whispered.

I knelt in front of him like all gay boys have and sucked his beautiful cock up and down.

“Fuck that feels good” His hands took old of the back of my head and he pushed my head up and down his big dick. “Oh yeah! Oh yeah!”

I sucked him good and hard. I took the knob and sucked on it. Then I sucked down the shaft from the side. Then the other side. Then I slipped the knob in my mouth again and took the whole shaft into my mouth and down my throat. He was rock hard and thick. Soon his legs were shaking. “Fuck yeah!”

I grabbed his arse to steady me and made a feast of his rock hard dick. Up and down, up and down. My saliva was all over him, wet and dripping. His knob rammed into the back of my throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you are going to make me cum. I’m going to cum!” His legs shook violently, as if they weren’t going to hold him up.He grabbed the top of my head. He shoved his pole into the back of my throat and groaned out loudly. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” I felt the spurts of his cum in the back of my throat, warm and wet, that amazing taste. He was shaking wildly. I hung onto him and took every last drop of his cum in my mouth.

His overalls were around his ankles and his jocks around his thighs as he slid his softening cock out of my mouth and sat backwards on the couch. He let his head fall back onto the head rest of the couch.

He looked the picture of masculinity, his thick thighs, his big balls and his softening slug of a cock laying against his leg. His t-shirt had slid up to expose his flat, hairy stomach, it was tight across his muscular pecs. Sweat glistened on his neck and face as the sun hit him through the window.

I picked up my camera and took more photos of him... spent country boy just cum with his soft cock still hanging out, with thin strands of cum still attached to his knob.

He looked amazingly beautiful lying there like that... man just cum. A still life caught in the crisp country sun shine.

He lay quietly, not moving for the longest time. Still, spent. I wondered if he’d fall asleep.

I sat back on the floor in front of the fire and smoked the other joint I had rolled. It was silent and still. The day hummed quietly, some birds walked across the tin roof.

Chad looked beautiful lying there, seemingly without a care, exposed. He had one of the prettiest cocks, now with its foreskin hugging his peaking out knob beautifully. Shiny cum etched around the rim like a daiquiri glass, small drops glistening on his hairy thigh.

His pubic hair ran in a thin line up his stomach to his belly button.

I watched his chest expand and deflate as I puffed on the joint.

My head spinning gently, my senses awash with desire for the still, masculine form.

He moved slowly. His face looked up and over at me with one eye open.

“Are you going to share that joint? Huh?”

“Sure.” I leaned forward and placed the joint in his hand. He puffed on it a few times and then offered it back to me.

“I’ve never been blown like that,” his croaky voice said, as the stream of smoke escaped from his lips. “That was...” he shook his head... “great man.”

He sat up and looked at me wonky-eyed. I handed him back the joint. “I guess I know why you haven’t got a girlfriend.”

“Or you,” I said without really thinking about it.

He laughed. “Yes.” He laughed again. “I guess... that could, um, be true, hey?” He looked over at me widening his eyes. “Shit hey?”

He stood up and stepped out of his overalls and jocks and headed to the toilet scratching his head. Nice sexy masculine arse, hairy crack, thin waist, not a gram of fat on him. Good legs.

“You know something,” he said as he exited the room.

“What?” I replied.

“I needed that,” he said, as I heard his stream of piss hit the toilet water, he mustn’t have closed the door this time. He laughed. “Nineteen years old and practically a virgin.”

What? What was that suppose to mean, exactly?

He pissed like a horse, there was a loud splash in the toilet, gradually the stream faded away.

He came and stood in front of the fire and warmed his naked arse, dressed just in his t-shirt; tight across his chest, hanging down to just above his pubic hair, which spread neatly across his lower abdomen to his cock and balls.

“Are you saying you are a virgin?” I asked.

“Ah.” He smiled. “No, not really, not technically. I’ve fooled around with girls, had sex with them, fucked them alright. But, not many, not a lot.”

“A good looking boy like you?”

He shrugged. “I think a lot of girls have wanted to... I think, but I’m not sure that... oh, it sounds stupid now that I say it out loud.” He shrugged again. “that I got it.” He smiled the smile of those who are useless and have just realised.

“I thought that’s what country kids did... you know, without a lot of other things to do?”

“I guess, I’ve always been busy on the farm. I never really saw the point of hanging out in the pub getting rotten drunk... like they all do.” He smiled again. “I always preferred a smoke, I never really liked alcohol, it kind of makes me feel sick, if anything.”

He stood there in just his t-shirt, his sexy legs and uncut cock hanging over his big balls quite happily, comfortable being naked, so it would seem. He looked good.

“You know, you’ve got a really pretty dick, farm boy.”

He blushed.

“And you’re cum tastes sweet, you know.”

“Stop it.” He smiled.