Authors note: The following work of fiction is loosely based on fact. More specifically, there is a farmers market near my condo, and there is a cute young farmer who runs one of the stalls there. The rest of the story is just a tissue of lies, especially the absurd and libelous notion that I have anything less than 12 inches of throbbing, veiny man meat between my legs. :biggrin1: Enjoy!
Saturday afternoon, @ 4:30 p.m:
"Ooohhh FUUUCK! FUCK! Yeah, FUCK ME! FFUUCCK ME! FUCK ME HARD WITH THAT FUCKING GIGANTIC COCK, YOU FUCKING FUCKER! FFUUUUCCCCKKKK!"
Ok, maybe I should back up a few hours.
Saturday morning, @ 10:30 a.m.
Oh shit, I feel terrible, I thought to myself, rolling out of bed. My head was still throbbing after a late night of debauchery at Town, the dance club conveniently located a few blocks from my condo building. I vaguely remembered having one too many cranberry vodkas while I tried to pick up that shirtless dancer with pecs like granite and an ass that stretched his tight jeans to the limit. Just before I could seal the deal that tattooed fucker with the oversized bulge in his pants stepped up and stole my man. Fucker! I hadnt gotten any man love for weeks, and it was starting to annoy me.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and wasnt completely embarrassed by what I saw: a 28 year old man, cute face with some morning stubble, brown hair stylishly cut, nice hazel eyes, alert but still a little bleary, a well-toned body, muscular but not freakishly so like some of the muscle bunnies at the local Vida gym. Enough hair to prove I was a man, but not so much I looked like an ape. And between my legs, a massive, oversized, elephantine . . . OK, maybe six inches wasnt quite enormous. But it was an honest six inches. Sometimes even six and a quarter when I was really hard. And my balls, while not tennis ball- or even ping pong ball-sized, still managed to churn out a respectable amount of cream. All in all, I didnt feel inadequate, but feeling just adequate didnt do much for my confidence level either.
It didnt help that I spent so much time on LPSG, a website related to big dicks. Reading all of those stories about oversized cocks and the pleasure they brought their owners and their conquests was inspiring, and I had blown many a load reading them, but at the end of the day I had to make due with my own average-sized equipment.
Enough with the self-pity! I jumped in the shower and cleaned up, then had a quick breakfast before I started my day. By then it was about 11:30 a.m., leaving me just enough time to visit the local farmers market before it closed. The market, which was just a block away from my condo, was open every Saturday morning from May to November. Local farmers and vendors sold their wares from stalls on the street corner. There was fresh produce, meats, flowers, baked goods, and as a bonus, the clientele included a high percentage of the hot gay men from my neighborhood.
My favorite stall was run by Chuck, a farmer from Pennsylvania. He sold eggs, meats, and produce. Chuck was a big, husky, good-looking man who looked like he lifted tractors as a hobby. Either because of the quality of his products or the warmth I felt in my crotch when I ogled him, I spent way too much time and money there.
Unfortunately for my raging libido, big Chuck was married and straight as an arrow. In fact, over the past several seasons, he started to bring his son Luke to help out at the stall. I watched him grow from a teenager to a young man, each season coming back a little taller, a little bigger, a little more developed. He had finished his first year at some agricultural college in Pennsylvania and was getting ready to head back for school in the fall.
On this particular Saturday, I got to the market close to closing time. Some of the stalls had already shut down, and the ones remaining didnt have much left to sell. With an empty basket, I approached Chucks stall. I didnt see Chuck, but Luke was standing behind the sales table taking money from a customer.
I took a moment to admire the man he was turning into. He was about six feet tall, about two inches taller than me. His wavy brown hair was lighter than mine. His face had left adolescence behind, with clear skin and a nice tan acquired from his time in the fields. He wore a short sleeved polo shirt and jeans, covered in the front by a white apron to protect his clothes from the chicken guts, beef juice, and other nasty fluids that he came into contact with at the market. Come to think of it, Ive never seen him without the apron. Hmmm. From what I could tell, though, Luke had a lean, youthful, wiry frame, developed not at a gym but through years of hard work on the farm.
Luke finished with his customer and greeted me. Hi James! Hows it goin?
Not too bad, Luke. Getting a late start to the day, though. Looks like the market doesnt have much left.
Yeah, thats for sure. We were really busy today.
Wheres your dad?
Oh, he had to take my sister to the county fair to show off her livestock. Figured I could handle running the stall by myself. Said that somebody who was in college and almost 20 could handle it.
Thats sounds right, youve been working here enough to know what needs to get done.
Yeah, I appreciated his confidence, made me feel like a man. But gosh, it was a lot of work, I had customers all morning.
Got anything left?
"Im really sorry James, but I just sold my last chicken and I ran out of beef about a half hour ago. If I knew you were coming, I would have saved some meat for you.
No sweat. If I had wanted some of your meat, I would have gotten my ass out of bed earlier, I said, looking at his face to see if I could get a reaction from him. Neither he nor his father knew I was gay.
The comment passed right over his head. Well, I still feel bad about it. I dont have anything left. I was just about to close up for the day. It sucks that I have to clean up everything myself, though. Its going to take twice as long without my dad here.
Inspired by a philanthropic spirit, or maybe just a desire to watch this healthy young stud lift heavy objects, I volunteered to help. Ill give you a hand.
Oh, no James, I couldnt ask you for that. Youll get all dirty!
Dont worry about it, I dont mind.
No, really, you dont have to . . .
I want to. Make you a dealI help you clean up today, and next week you save your best meat for me. Deal?
Well, OK. Its really nice of you. Ill be sure to save the biggest and best piece of beef just for you, he said with a straight face. Or was that a little smile I just saw?
Saturday afternoon, @ 4:30 p.m:
"Ooohhh FUUUCK! FUCK! Yeah, FUCK ME! FFUUCCK ME! FUCK ME HARD WITH THAT FUCKING GIGANTIC COCK, YOU FUCKING FUCKER! FFUUUUCCCCKKKK!"
Ok, maybe I should back up a few hours.
Saturday morning, @ 10:30 a.m.
Oh shit, I feel terrible, I thought to myself, rolling out of bed. My head was still throbbing after a late night of debauchery at Town, the dance club conveniently located a few blocks from my condo building. I vaguely remembered having one too many cranberry vodkas while I tried to pick up that shirtless dancer with pecs like granite and an ass that stretched his tight jeans to the limit. Just before I could seal the deal that tattooed fucker with the oversized bulge in his pants stepped up and stole my man. Fucker! I hadnt gotten any man love for weeks, and it was starting to annoy me.
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and wasnt completely embarrassed by what I saw: a 28 year old man, cute face with some morning stubble, brown hair stylishly cut, nice hazel eyes, alert but still a little bleary, a well-toned body, muscular but not freakishly so like some of the muscle bunnies at the local Vida gym. Enough hair to prove I was a man, but not so much I looked like an ape. And between my legs, a massive, oversized, elephantine . . . OK, maybe six inches wasnt quite enormous. But it was an honest six inches. Sometimes even six and a quarter when I was really hard. And my balls, while not tennis ball- or even ping pong ball-sized, still managed to churn out a respectable amount of cream. All in all, I didnt feel inadequate, but feeling just adequate didnt do much for my confidence level either.
It didnt help that I spent so much time on LPSG, a website related to big dicks. Reading all of those stories about oversized cocks and the pleasure they brought their owners and their conquests was inspiring, and I had blown many a load reading them, but at the end of the day I had to make due with my own average-sized equipment.
Enough with the self-pity! I jumped in the shower and cleaned up, then had a quick breakfast before I started my day. By then it was about 11:30 a.m., leaving me just enough time to visit the local farmers market before it closed. The market, which was just a block away from my condo, was open every Saturday morning from May to November. Local farmers and vendors sold their wares from stalls on the street corner. There was fresh produce, meats, flowers, baked goods, and as a bonus, the clientele included a high percentage of the hot gay men from my neighborhood.
My favorite stall was run by Chuck, a farmer from Pennsylvania. He sold eggs, meats, and produce. Chuck was a big, husky, good-looking man who looked like he lifted tractors as a hobby. Either because of the quality of his products or the warmth I felt in my crotch when I ogled him, I spent way too much time and money there.
Unfortunately for my raging libido, big Chuck was married and straight as an arrow. In fact, over the past several seasons, he started to bring his son Luke to help out at the stall. I watched him grow from a teenager to a young man, each season coming back a little taller, a little bigger, a little more developed. He had finished his first year at some agricultural college in Pennsylvania and was getting ready to head back for school in the fall.
On this particular Saturday, I got to the market close to closing time. Some of the stalls had already shut down, and the ones remaining didnt have much left to sell. With an empty basket, I approached Chucks stall. I didnt see Chuck, but Luke was standing behind the sales table taking money from a customer.
I took a moment to admire the man he was turning into. He was about six feet tall, about two inches taller than me. His wavy brown hair was lighter than mine. His face had left adolescence behind, with clear skin and a nice tan acquired from his time in the fields. He wore a short sleeved polo shirt and jeans, covered in the front by a white apron to protect his clothes from the chicken guts, beef juice, and other nasty fluids that he came into contact with at the market. Come to think of it, Ive never seen him without the apron. Hmmm. From what I could tell, though, Luke had a lean, youthful, wiry frame, developed not at a gym but through years of hard work on the farm.
Luke finished with his customer and greeted me. Hi James! Hows it goin?
Not too bad, Luke. Getting a late start to the day, though. Looks like the market doesnt have much left.
Yeah, thats for sure. We were really busy today.
Wheres your dad?
Oh, he had to take my sister to the county fair to show off her livestock. Figured I could handle running the stall by myself. Said that somebody who was in college and almost 20 could handle it.
Thats sounds right, youve been working here enough to know what needs to get done.
Yeah, I appreciated his confidence, made me feel like a man. But gosh, it was a lot of work, I had customers all morning.
Got anything left?
"Im really sorry James, but I just sold my last chicken and I ran out of beef about a half hour ago. If I knew you were coming, I would have saved some meat for you.
No sweat. If I had wanted some of your meat, I would have gotten my ass out of bed earlier, I said, looking at his face to see if I could get a reaction from him. Neither he nor his father knew I was gay.
The comment passed right over his head. Well, I still feel bad about it. I dont have anything left. I was just about to close up for the day. It sucks that I have to clean up everything myself, though. Its going to take twice as long without my dad here.
Inspired by a philanthropic spirit, or maybe just a desire to watch this healthy young stud lift heavy objects, I volunteered to help. Ill give you a hand.
Oh, no James, I couldnt ask you for that. Youll get all dirty!
Dont worry about it, I dont mind.
No, really, you dont have to . . .
I want to. Make you a dealI help you clean up today, and next week you save your best meat for me. Deal?
Well, OK. Its really nice of you. Ill be sure to save the biggest and best piece of beef just for you, he said with a straight face. Or was that a little smile I just saw?
