Somerset Farm 

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze


Chapter 01

It was summer at last, school, the Oaks Academy, closed for summer
break, and Doug Henderson was free to do as he pleased for ten glorious
weeks. Except he wasn't free, he planned to work the entire summer as a
gardener on a neighbor's estate. Doug defined 'estate' as being a larger
property than his family's fourteen or so room house, set in the middle of
only one hundred acres. Mrs. Gibbs, the neighbor and his employer's home
boasted over thirty rooms with over four hundred-fifty acres of farm and
woodlands. The estate, Somerset Farm, included amenities like a stable with
twenty box stalls, a greenhouse, a dairy, a kennel, which was closed after
Mr. Gibbs passed on, and a herd of registered Black Angus cattle. The big
house, as opposed to the half dozen cottages on the property for workers, was
staffed with a butler, a cook, two maids and a houseman. The houseman,
Patrick, a first generation Irishman, did all of the really heavy cleaning,
moving furniture and other shit work inside that the other servants thought
themselves above doing. Patrick also took care of all the gardening around
the big house.
Mrs. Gibbs considered her four full-time gardeners to be generally
incompetent and banished them from caring for the lawn and gardens
surrounding her home and assigned Patrick the job of caring for that area.
Mrs. Gibbs was way too nice in Doug's opinion, she should have fired or
pensioned the lazy pricks off after Mr. Gibbs died, and they discovered how
much they could get away with under her supervision. Patrick needed help in
the summer, so Mrs. Gibbs, Mrs. G., Doug called her, attached Doug to help
Patrick. Doug and Patrick got along great, and Doug discovered he actually
liked gardening and particularly taking care of the swimming pool.
Doug loved Mrs. G's. pool for two reasons: He loved to swim and was
a rising star on his school's swim team, and Patrick just laughed his ass off
whenever he caught Doug doing laps after he finished vacuuming, put the
equipment away, then 'accidentally' fell in. The other reason he enjoyed
Mrs. G's. pool was that it was completely walled with eight feet of bricks,
so it was totally private and he could enjoy the pool and it's large terrace
in the nude. Of course he couldn't go naked or swim when Mrs. G. was home,
but she went to Europe every summer, and didn't return until Labor Day, and
Patrick indulged Doug after she was safely gone, in not wearing his shorts or
even his skimpy tank suit while he worked in the pool area, because Doug
claimed if he should fall in, then he would have to work the rest of the day
in wet clothing. Patrick also enjoyed watching the fourteen year old work in
his birthday suit, and Doug enjoyed having an audience.
Doug could swim as long as he could remember, and was also always on
his school's swim team. He always enjoyed looking at teammate's bodies
around the pool, and as he got older and reached puberty, in the locker room
and showers particularly. At first he thought this was normal since everyone
looked openly with glances and covertly whenever someone developed an
erection unexpectedly. When he started jacking off however, he never
fantasized about girls, it was always guys, juniors and seniors, and he came
to the realization that he was gay. With recognition, came acceptance, and
with that, he started to look for some other guy who thought like he did, so
they could get together and do something about Doug's embarrassing virginity.
One day, at the end of June, Patrick appeared at Doug's side while
he was pulling weeds in a flower bed. "Douglas me lad, I've decided that I'm
takin' a long holiday this summer. I'm off to home, and I'll not be back
until just before Herself comes home. You're a good worker and you can
handle this up here as well as meself, so I've no worries there. The
assholes in the house are long gone on their holidays as well, so you've got
the place to yourself for the summer." Patrick paused and ran a hand lightly
over Doug's bare back, then said in a lower voice, "I wish I was forty or
more years younger, if I was, I'd be introducin' you to the mysteries, but
since that can't be, I've come to think of you as the grandson that I'll
never have, so I've kept me hands to me self, but I want to thank ye for
givin' me the pleasure of lookin' me fill anyways. I'm off on the early
train tomorrow, so I'll be takin' my leave of ye now.
"Gee thanks Pat for trusting me to take care of things." Doug
blushed as he stood up to shake hands. "I, I sort of have one question
before you go." Patrick waited with a smile and a raised bushy eyebrow.
"Well, I was wondering, that is, how did you know? Ah, that I'm well, gay?"
he asked, as color rose into his curly red hair and down his neck through a
cosmos of freckles.
Patrick burst into rich deep laughter. "Ah lad, gay is it they
call us these days? I think it just takes one to know one. How is it you
knew that I am?" Doug started to say he didn't, but Pat shut him off and
answered his own question. "Deep down, you knew, admit it or no, but you
knew. Its somewhat easier for me, I've more experience in the lookin'.
Don't hasten things by offerin' yourself to the first old man as comes along,
or any other old timer for that matter. Bide your time, you'll meet Mr.
Right, and everything will be perfect. Somemore unasked for advise: Try not
to let that monster thing you're sportin' rule your head, else you'll start
confusin' great sport with a thing called love. That may happen in time,
when it does you'll know the difference." Patrick smiled at the boy, reached
up and stroked Doug's cheek lightly, then allowed his fingers to drift
downward over the long neck, developing shoulders and chest, then further,
over the lightly rippled stomach, to pause briefly and outline Doug's seven
inch hard young manhood showing boldly through his very old and too tight
nylon shorts. "Glory be." Patrick managed before he turned and hurried
across the lawn.
That first touch by a hand other than his own, a man's hand set Doug
in motion. He left his weeding and rushed toward the solid wooden locked
gate in the wall surrounding the pool. He fumbled the key from it's not so
secret hiding place, and opened the gate. On the inside, he pulled it closed
so hard the sound echoed around the high walls. He kept the key as there was
only one that he knew of, so he wouldn't be disturbed suddenly. He knew what
his cock demanded he do, even though it was only ten o'clock in the morning,
and he was outside in broad daylight. He frantically pushed down his shorts
until they fell around his ankles and he could kick free of them. He didn't
even take the precious seconds necessary to pry off his old tennis shoes, but
headed for the nearest heavy wooden lounge. The cushions had been removed
for the summer and stored. He threw himself down on his back halfway down
the lounge. He ignored the heavy dew that had yet to evaporate as the sun
got higher. The same sun would dry his back as quickly.
He kicked his legs up and back until his body curved and his weight
rested on his shoulders. His feet planted themselves flatly on the back of
the lounge. Doug's practiced mouth was already open and waiting for his cock
to swing back from his forehead to settle hanging rigidly down, pointing at
his mouth. He stopped it with his tongue, and sucked it into his mouth. His
lips locked on the shaft after three inches had disappeared. His sucking
intensified. His hands went automatically to the backs of his thighs high
near where his crack started. He used his hands to pull his cock in further,
then he let up the pressure, and used his stomach muscles to withdraw, but
not all the way, just until only the turgid head remained, spit slicked and
oozing precum. He tasted himself, and took the time to swallow.
He was too far gone to even try to make it last, to go slowly, to
make love to himself for a full twenty minutes was his ultimate goal in
getting there usually. He hadn't managed it yet. This time there were only
three mighty thrusts before his whole five foot-eight inch body convulsed in
on itself and he spurted into his throat. He watched his cock and balls
looking nearly cross eyed. Only two of his seven inch length remain in his
vision and his balls though bunched, nearly rested on the bridge of his nose.
After the first and largest spurting, he was able to withdraw himself and
catch the rest of the diminishing series on his tongue. He swallowed when
necessary, not greedily, because there was always more at his disposal at any
time, and erections could be summoned with a thought or a glance at another
guy's body, naked or clothed, his mind could strip a guy equally fast.
When he was finished his cock parted with his mouth just by
returning to normal. He pushed with his feet and his ass and the backs of
his legs slammed the lounge painfully. Doug staggered to his feet, pried his
shoes off and just fell forward into the pool. His brain automatically
turned his body in the short distance, so he entered the water head first
with almost no splash.
He surfaced as quietly as he dove, his gray eyes squinted at the
sun. He returned to the lounge and took the time to flatten it. Then he
stretched out and sighed. "Wow, I guess this will be my morning break." He
giggled to himself, "Complete with a snack. With Patrick gone and the whole
place deserted, maybe I'll just do it everyday about this time. I just wish
the cock belonged to someone else for a change, or the mouth did." He felt
his cock stir in response to his thoughts, and sat up quickly to look down on
his over eager organ. Aloud, he chided it, "Oh, no you don't we have work
to do. You just behave and we'll do it again at lunchtime when we have an





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