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CYOA3 – Farmer's Delight – Chapter 12: Enjoying Nature
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 07:45:05 +0000 UTCPreviously: The wizard helped Farmer in winning over (?) Clint and Heisenberg so Clint will hopefully change his vote...
Content this chapter: Just good old fashioned fucking.
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It’s difficult to even remember what happened that night. Farmer woke up sometime in the wee hours of the morning to feel that he was being carried like a damn child. He could smell a lot of pine and grass and rain, reminding him of the forest; but then also the herbs and chemical stench that immediately made him think of Rasmodius.
He thought he could hear voices talking but then he’d been out again like a light and woke up hours later in his own bed to his farm having been tended to. Someone made an effort to water his plants and pull out the weeds and put in little support rods for the longer plants that were in danger of falling over under their own weight – and even took care of the animals.
Farmer hobbled around for the rest of the day but mostly took it easy on himself and tried to remember what the fuck even happened. He eventually gave up on that, though, and just let it be. What happened, happened… and it obviously had the desired effect because next time he wanders into the Mayor’s house to have a look at the standings, Clints vote actually has shifted.
Huh. Interesting.
At some point Sebastian comes over again with Sam in tow, mumbling about having to check over some cables and make some adjustments. He dutifully does traipse across the property but Farmer has the distinct feeling the two of them are simply horny and trying to come up with a way to ask him to take care of them.
He does not make the first move, just letting them linger around the edges of his awareness and getting nice and turned on from their obvious arousal, but since they’re both still too shy to do anything about it, they eventually squirrel off again. Maybe to play with each other.
Blow off some steam.
He smirks, chewing on a blade of grass and slowly standing up from the crouch he’s been in. “Cute,” he mutters, wiping at the back of his neck and looking around. It’s still fairly early and he has everything taken care of. The plants don’t need him to grow at this point and the animals are all out searching for food on their own. The machines are chugging along and everything is nice and peaceful.
Maybe he should go on a walk? Stretch his legs a little? He could keep an eye out for some forage while out there.
While he never expected to get excited at the thought of some turnips he found in the forest, he finds that living in the Valley has quite changed his outlook on a lot of things. He had hoped it would happen, but actually realizing that he’s just slowed down so he would be able to enjoy the beauty of nature comes as a pleasant surprise.
And when I’m not enjoying nature, I get fucked within an inch of my life by some weird freaky magic a weird freaky wizard is performing on me.
He grins wryly at the thought, glancing up at the sky and wondering if Rasmodius is rooting around his head at the moment and getting annoyed at his thoughts.
Ugh. Things were getting too complicated.
Get out there. Forage. Cook some turnips and be pleased at the nice little life he put together for himself.
Yeah – that’s a good plan.
.o.
Since arriving to the Valley, Farmer has had little time to simply go on a walk and enjoy nature all around. He’s always been with his nose to the grindstone, puttering around on one thing or another that would either help him keep making a living or keep the Community Center going for a bit longer.
The thought of the old building has him take a route that winds him over to it just s he can have another look. He’s doing a damn lot of work for that thing, though looking at it he feels like something has… changed about it a little.
He wanders inside and realizes with a little barked laugh of wonder that two of the rooms have been completely repaired by… who? The Junimo? Those bouncing little things that he’s been half convinced weren’t even real?
But the rooms are there; wonderfully clean and bright and furnished and fuck. His head is starting to hurt even as a huge, delighted grin splits his face.
“This is absolutely insane,” he whispers, reaching up to rub his forehead. “I should write this shit down. Sell it to some big movie company or something. Or maybe a porn studio.”
He looks around, carefully touching the back of a chair just to make sure it is actually real and he is not just dreaming it all up. Once he has confirmed that everything in Stardew Valley was just insane and made out of fairy dust and dreams or something, he wanders back out of the Community Center.
Farmer sits down on the stone bench next to it for a while and stares into the sky, giving it all time to sink in before he slowly gets up again and wanders further down the road. He can see Robin through a window standing at her front desk. They smile at each other and wave. Farmer finds himself wondering what decision she might make eventually. He hasn’t read her name in any of the polls yet.
Will he fuck her at some point? Maybe lick her to orgasm where she’s standing now while Demetrius is busy ‘doing science’ in the other room?
He’s got a feeling that she could become really loud and wild if given half a chance. Demetrius seems like a sweet guy but like he needs to fuck with the lights off and in missionary. Probably solely to produce offspring?
Oof that thought is rough. Though Farmer kind of likes the thought of bending him over his little work station and showing him some new things he could occupy his time and considerable brain power with…
He’s so in thoughts, idly thinking about whether Demetrius would be loud and whine when he gets his cheeks spread and a tongue on his hole for the first time, that he doesn’t look where he’s going and nearly trips over a hand on the grassy shore.
“Hey there!” The call is half alarmed, half hesitant. Farmer stumbles to a stop and looks down to find Linus soaking in the lake of all things. The old man is peering up at him, his hand still up from where he hastily pulled his arm out of the way.
“Oh damn. I’m sorry, Linus. I was so in thought, I didn’t even see you there.” He watches as the guarded expression on the old man’s face slowly melts away when Farmer crouches down to get closer to the other’s level. Linus has been so afraid of him in the beginning that he barely even talked to him, but a few late-night strolls past his tent with some friendly greetings seem to have calmed his apprehension at least somewhat.
Farmer nods his chin toward the old man. “Isn’t that like… insanely cold right now?”
Linus’ face relaxes a little. He lowers his arm again and slowly brushes across his impressive beard. Honestly, it is insane how white it is, given that he is living out in the wilderness. He obviously takes excellent care of himself. Farmer can’t say that he’s ever smelled him, either.
“It’s cold, yes,” Linus says but the way he says it with a serene smile on his face makes it sound like it is something good. Farmer makes a face.
“I much prefer the heat of the bathhouse. I’m glad that it finally opened up again. Didn’t think there was something like it here, but… well.” He motions to the ground. “Mind if I sit here? Don’t worry, though, if you’d rather be alone…”
He trails off when Linus perks up considerably, an incredulous smile stretching on his face as he gestures toward the ground. “No! No, no. Sit. Please. It is such a nice, warm day; it would be a shame to enjoy it alone.”
Farmer slowly makes himself comfortable in the grass and lifts his head to peer up into the baby blue sky. Now that Linus mentioned it, he has to admit that it really is a rather warm, nice day today. Maybe the water isn’t as cold as he thought after all. He reaches out and dangles a hand in, humming softly.
“Yeah, I suppose it feels really nice. You have the right of it, honestly.”
Linus looks pleased. He jerks his head to the side. “Come in!”
Farmer chuckles, pulling his hand out of the water again. He stretches his legs out in front of him and braces himself behind, stretching his face into the sun above. “Ah… thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass. I’m not even sure how I’d get out of there again. The shore line seems much too soft to pull yourself back on land, honestly.”
“I just use the wooden planks,” Linus says with a happy inflection that belies just how insane of a feat that is of a man his age.
Farmer stares at those said wooden planks but he thinks he wouldn’t be able to pull himself out of water using those. He really is out of shape, holy fuck. Maybe he should ask Linus about his routine or something.
The old guy clearly did something insanely right. Maybe it’s also just living in this place. It’s so peaceful and beautiful…
He’s been quiet and in his head for long enough that it would be awkward for him to reply now, but Linus does not look like he needs him to talk anyway. He seems very content with the situation and like he doesn’t think Farmer is weird at all, which is relaxing in and off itself.
They lapse into some companionable silence. Farmer shifts a little and realizes he’s almost sitting on the wild radishes he found in the wilderness behind his farm. He pulls them out and cleans them in the water under Linus’ lazily watching eyes, then pulls the greens off of them and offers one up to the old man.
The way he looks at his hand and then up at him, makes Farmer feel downright ashamed that he had not thought earlier to offer Linus up some of the forage he’s found around the valley. He would never presume that he could find more or better things than a guy literally living in the woods for however many years, but he feels like the gesture is what is making Linus almost misty eyed as he slowly reaches out and murmurs his thanks.
“Don’t even mention it,” Farmer murmurs, feeling shy. His ears are hot with a blush but either Linus can’t see it against the glare of the sun or he is polite enough not to mention it. They share the rest of the radish in companionable quiet. Once the last bit has been chewed and swallowed, Linus nods as if to himself and pushes away from the loamy shore.
“I think I am done soaking. I would love to show you something, though… if you still have some time, lad.”
Farmer slowly levers himself up into a stand. His muscles still feel a bit weird from the escapades from the other night. Nothing major; just sore and reminding him that, on the bottom line, he’s a slut.
It’s that thought that echoes through his mind as he lifts his head from wiping grass off his overalls and watches Linus effortlessly pull himself up by the wooden planks just like he said he would.
Watching his very wet, very naked body pull out of the water makes Farmer suddenly wonder where his clothes are. He looks about and sees his cloak made up of golden leafs sitting half-hidden beneath a nearby shrub. Looking back up, Linus is coming straight toward him with apparently not a single ounce of concern about his nakedness. He’s got a nice round belly with an even nicer thatch of white fur growing just beneath the belly button and leading his gaze just naturally down toward his cock.
Farmer swallows thickly. He forces himself to look away again and not be weird about this. He can be normal. He can be normal and not a horny weird guy getting off on another man simply existing in his space. Naked and wet and looking so nice and sturdy.
He wonders when the last time was that Linus got to fuck someone and has to almost physically shake himself out of it. Bad Farmer. Bad. Get your fucking mind out of the gutter for once, will you?
He grits his teeth, frowning, but another little voice chimes in as well: Linus is a resident of the town, if just so. He has a right to vote as well.
“Everything alright?” Linus’ voice pulls him out of it. He looks up. The older man is standing there. Still naked. He’s got his leaf tunic in hand and does not look in a hurry to put it on.
When Farmer just stares at him, probably glassy-eyed and with an erection starting to tent his overalls, Linus looks down at himself. He gestures vaguely at his naked chest. “Does this make you uncomfortable? I am sorry. I prefer to dry in the air before putting this back on…” he shakes his tunic for emphasis.
Farmer does not know how to tell him that he is very much okay with it without sounding like a creep. So he just clears his throat and shakes his head and throws him a grin that he hopes is not oozing with I’m horny and down to fuck.
“Nah it’s alright. All natural, eh?”
Linus’ face relaxes in a pleased, unperturbed smile.
“Exactly! Come on, then. I got the stuff in my tent!”
Farmer is left trudging after Linus. An experience in and off itself. Nobody is around, so he can take his time staring at the old man’s hairy ass as they make their way up the short hike toward the top of the overhang where Linus has pitched his tent. Hah. Hahah.
God, fuck, he wants to fuck him so badly now it’s aching. Farmer stuffs his hands into his pockets and balls them into fists to try and keep his cock from getting chafed raw by the material of his overalls.
When he slows down just enough he can have a peek at Linus’ balls between his plump thighs every now and then. They are dusted with white hairs, the skin looking very pink and delicious underneath. He thinks they might be wonderfully warm in his hand, the fat nuts inside the thin, sensitive skin heavy in his palm. He could probably easily suck one in his mouth while giving him a nice, sloppy handjob…
Linus throws his tunic over the top of his tent, probably to get nice and toasty warm from the lingering sun, and dips inside the open flap while waving for Farmer to follow along.
Farmer, helpless to the whims of his own cock, does so without protest, eyes still stuck on Linus’ naked, hairy ass.
The inside of the tent is more roomy than he would have thought. Maybe so because it was very organized and clean. The things that Linus possessed did not exactly look second hand. Maybe they were all gifts from the people in town. Farmer had noticed that Linus was rather good friends with Gus, if nothing else. He’s also seen him talking to Willy from time to time.
The large ice box that he is using as a table might just be from the old angler.
“Do you fish?” Linus promptly asks and it sends a spark of paranoia through Farmer as he wonders wildly, hysterically, if this man of the woods could root around his head as well. But when he can only choke on his tongue and Linus turns to look at him with mild curiosity, he fights the thoughts back down.
He plays over the awkward sound by coughing into his fist and making a show out of clearing his throat.
“Oh! Y-Yeah. Not much, but I uhm… wanted to get into it some more.”
Linus nods, his smile going wider. “Don’t have much time to do so, right? Takes a while to fish. Little buggers don’t always cooperate.”
Linus is a good few inches shorter than Farmer, but he finds it slowly easier to focus more on the other’s face instead of staring at his chest; or trying to look at his cock beneath the swell of his gut. Yeah. Yeah, he’s got himself completely under control. He’s no fucking freak that needs to get his dick wet every day. He can be a perfectly normal human being that says perfectly normal human things.
“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he hears himself say. “Takes a while for them to bite. I usually only get one or two bites before I have to turn back…”
Linus is nodding again, his eyes closing as he smiles even wider. He looks so innocently happy like this. “Yes! Yes, I understand completely. Wonderful, I’ll show you something, then. I got this special kind of bait, you see. It’s top notch stuff. Honestly, I’d eat it myself if the payoff wasn’t even better. Here… look.”
Baffled, Farmer turns to watch as Linus pulls a large palm leaf over the surface of his little box-desk and arranges a few ingredients on it. More leafs, those ones smaller and more flexible, a few fat, wriggling worms in a large mason jar, and some other plants that Farmer does not recognize. He squints his eyes at them and watches as sticky, see-through strands of slick stretch between the pine-cone like thing and the surface it had been lying on once Linus takes it in hand and lifts it.
Farmer’s mouth immediately goes dry as he watches nimble, thick fingers gently take the soft pine cone in hand and begin to squeeze it from bottom to top, urging thick viscous liquid to start pooling between the different petals.
Linus glances up at him, then does a double take as he sees the intense expression on the Farmer’s face. Mistaking it for… what… hunger? He suddenly switches his grip from one hand to the other and brings fingers dripping and covered in thick, viscous slick up to Farmer’s face.
“You wanna try?” he asks a bit gruff but with his eyes very kind and understanding.
Farmer exhales roughly through his mouth and leans back a little, his ears and cheeks pounding with blood; just like his heart and his cock are throbbing desperately. “Uh… what?”
Linus turns toward him now, nudging his hand toward him, thick, wet fingertips lightly touching Farmer’s bottom lip and leaving behind a dab of moisture that stretches in a thick, quivering strand between his mouth and Linus’ fingers. Warmth washes down his spine. His nipples draw into hard little peaks of sensation, rubbing up against his shirt.
“It’s sweet,” Linus promises him. “Perfectly safe for consumption! I grow them myself in a little lot up the stairs. By the train station. You can make candy with their secretions, you see…”
Farmer’s tongue swipes out and over his lip despite himself. He’s not much for sweets and honestly the slime looks disgusting to ingest, but… yeah. Yeah. “Yeah,” he croaks, breathless and focusing on how close Linus is standing, his naked stomach almost pushing up against Farmer. “It’s sweet.”
It really is. It’s not too overwhelming, too; just a subtle, clean sweetness that he rolls around his mouth and rubs up against the roof, trying to detect a grassy note and unable to find one.
Linus is smiling and suddenly plunges two thick fingers right into Farmer’s mouth. Past his unresisting lips, forcing his teeth apart without needing to force because Farmer’s jaw just goes slack and he lets the old man finger fuck slimy, slick, sweet fingers across his tongue. The sweetness has saliva quickly pooling in his mouth and Linus seems so unperturbed by it, his face still so friendly and quietly happy as his two thick digits play with Farmer’s tongue.
Farmer breathes in harsh, warm little puffs of air. His body feels electric, brain foggy and horny as he tries to remind himself not to be weird about it. He’s so focused on it that he doesn’t really realize how weird and horny the situation is to begin with. Not until he feels how Linus is gently finger fucking his mouth with warm, little thrusts of his thick fingers, force feeding more sweet slick down Farmer’s struggling throat – while reaching for Farmer’s cock with his other hand and lovingly palming the warm erection through the stiff, rough denim of his overalls.
Farmer’s brain short circuits. For a few seconds he still is thinking don’t make this weird and don’t be so horny until he finally catches up with what is happening and how he is very clearly getting fondled and felt up by Linus.
His gaze flicks down, searching for the old man’s eyes. Linus is still smiling close lipped and finally he can see a pink flush creeping up out of his beard and how glassy his eyes have become.
His jaw drops open and he groans, pushing his tongue out and between Linus’ fingers. He’s drooling and he’s making a mess, but Linus looks fucking delighted by it. He steps forward, crowding against Farmer and pushing him until he is hitting the unstable tent wall, stumbling and jerking his arms out to look for something to hold on to. That something turns out to be Linus. His skin is warm and there are a lot of coarse hairs tickling against Farmer’s palms.
Linus pulls his slick and drool covered fingers from Farmer’s mouth and replaces them with his own lips. He kisses and Farmer just lets him, groaning low and delirious as he keeps his mouth obediently open for the other’s tongue to plunge in and swipe at the thick, sweet slick in there.
He’s just beginning to somewhat come back into himself and kissing back when Linus pulls back, panting heavily, his thick fingers fumbling with the clasps of Farmer’s overalls.
“Is this okay, lad?” he asks breathlessly against Farmer’s mouth, pressing another kiss against him that tickles charmingly because of Linus’ beard. “Rasmodius said… he said you would… and you were delicious-”
Farmer needs a moment for his brain to catch up, at which point he pushes Linus back a little with the hands he got on his shoulders, blinking at him blearily. “Wait… what?” he stutters, mouth tingling from the kisses and the weird sweet slick and brain really not wanting to function when he could just lean over and let the sweet old man fuck him senseless.
Linus looks hesitant and like he regrets having said anything in the first place, but after a moment he says slowly and with a bit of a rasp in his voice: “You probably don’t remember, but Rasmodius asked me to help him the other week and carry you from Clint’s…”
He trails off, watching Farmer’s face go through a number of emotions as his brain tries to keep up. Slowly, he puts two and two together.
“You carried me?” He pauses, thinks about it, then clarifies: “You carried me?”
He gapes at the other. Farmer is, after all, a grown man. Linus just looks back at him like he wonders what the problem is, though really… Farmer is slowly starting to realize he underestimated the guy on a lot of levels. He blinks.
“What did Rasmodius say?”
Linus gets a weird expression on his face. He licks his lips and briefly glances Farmer up and down. It’s enough of an explanation, really. He can already picture it: Rasmodius freely whoring Farmer out as payment for Linus helping him carrying his passed-out self away from the blacksmith.
Farmer groans. He wants him too badly to really put up much of a fuss. Before Linus can try to think of a tactful way of how to phrase it, he just grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him close.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he pants out, his mouth still tingling and his whole body tight with need. “I can be your slut,” he promises in a low, crooning voice. “Fuck, I don’t care. I’ll be the town bike. I’ll just spread my legs for anyone. You wanna pump out a load? Just come to my fuckin’ farm. Just lift your f-fucking robe and show me your cock and I’ll go on my knees for you.”
He’s babbling and he can tell that he’s overwhelming the old guy, though not in a necessarily bad way. Linus is just wheezing with each breath and is now grabbing at Farmer’s hips, pulling him in and letting him feel his erection pressing against his thigh.
“You don’t need to…” he tries, but Farmer shakes his head. He’s leaning in and bumping their noses and their cheeks and starts to press suckling, desperate kisses against Linus’ mouth and his beard. It’s uncoordinated but Farmer is so damn hot for him he can’t help himself.
“I want to. I want to,” he promises, repeating himself a few times as Linus pulls back and starts to fumble more with Farmer’s clothes.
Farmer helps, but it’s not helping, not really. Their fingers keep tangling up with each other and Farmer keeps leaning in for kisses, but Linus doesn’t get impatient with him. The old guy seems to thoroughly enjoy himself, laughing softly and always gentle as he helps Farmer slip out of the restrictive fabrics.
Farmer wonders whether Linus has always been like this or whether that is simply what happens when you are alone for most of the time and are just so damn happy and grateful to have someone that wants to play with you.
Farmer goes to his knees as soon as his overalls are tangled about his legs. Linus chuckles again and leans down to try and pull the boots off of him. He’s stopped by Farmer practically falling mouth first on his dick. Farmer is hungry and Linus’ cock is right there.
It is a bit shorter than average but deliciously fat with a cherry red tip that feels so perfect against his tongue, squirting out clear juice that Farmer laps up like the starving man that he is.
Linus’ breath hitches. He slowly rights himself again, breathing out long and stuttering, his fingers trembling as they reach down to pat at Farmer’s head.
Farmer closes his eyes. He needs to tilt his head a little to the side to take Linus’ cock to the base and not be hindered by his belly.
Linus chokes on his own tongue.
“Oh… oh dear,” he finally gets out, his fingers spasming against Farmer’s scalp, hips leaning forward in the gentlest kind of fucking motion. He exhales gustily and Farmer nuzzles his nose into the white pubes beneath his belly. He smells warm and earthy and Farmer gets a bit sidetracked just inhaling him deeply while keeping his cock lodged deep in his throat.
Only when the dick spasms, kicking hard enough to make him choke, does he finally pull back, leaving a thick, sticky mess of saliva behind.
He looks up, tongue stuck out, feeling wrecked already and he hasn’t even had a cock in his ass.
“You wanna-” he starts, has to stop, clear his throat, then drawls: “You wanna fuck me in the ass or the mouth? Which pussy’d you rather have?”
Linus stares down at him. His flush has now crawled down to his chest where it peeks out beneath his beard. Something about how blunt and vulgar Farmer is seems to really shock him – and turn him on. Something Farmer is more than happy to indulge.
He makes a show out of licking his lips, then shuffles awkwardly around, still hobbled by his overalls around his knees. He leans forward, face against the floor of the tent, bracing himself on one shoulder so he can reach behind and spread his cheeks wide.
He’s kind of amused that there is still a frisson of shame crawling down his spine. He’s done this, or something similar to it, so often in front of the camera… for an audience of who knew how many people – and yet he still feels nervous and almost a bit shy showing off his hole.
Linus is breathing loud behind him; rattling, deep breaths as he just stands there, his wet cock bouncing in the air and watches Farmer contort himself for him.
“Here? You wanna put it here?” he asks with a bit of a whine in his voice that is not even played up. He drags his finger across his hole, letting himself relax and tense up again; pretends its a pretty little mouth kissing at his digits as they pass by. “I want you to. Your cock’s so fat; bet you’ll stretch me so good, Linus. Fuck, you got me so hot already…”
He tries to fit a finger in, but it’s dry and burning and the sensation has half a whine stuck in his throat. It seems enough to finally jolt the old man into action.
“No! I mean, yes. Wait… don’t hurt yourself. Tsk… you look all swollen here… You really are a- a slut, huh?” There’s the barest hint of hesitation before Linus says the word; like he has to really hype himself up to say it, and for some reason it sizzles hot and naughty through Farmer’s system.
He breathes into his bicep, blinking slow. He has to try and focus on what Linus is saying to make any sense of the words when he is already trying so hard to fuck himself on his fingers and prepare himself for cock. He hasn’t taken a mirror to his ass but he can feel what the old man is talking about; his muscle still feels plump and like it’s twice the usual size. With him playing with it comes also an ache like sore muscles after a long workout.
He feels Linus’ big, warm hand on the small of his back. His fingers feel gratifyingly thick and the callouses tug on his skin in the most delicious way when he softly pets him.
“Easy. Easy,” the other soothes him with a low, sweet voice. He’s quickly slipping into the role he’s been so freely, so eagerly given by Farmer. He sounds not mean about it, though. He sounds like an indulging grandfather, fingers so gentle as they grab for the discarded plant on the makeshift table and move it over. Farmer just waits for it and is not disappointed as moments later he feels the thick, sweet slick start to hit the top of his ass crack and slowly drip down.
It covers his asshole, both cooling it and making him feel the tingle that had coated his mouth earlier.
“Oh shieeet,” he groans, fingers spasming against his asscheek which he still pulls to the side simply because he forgot how his body works. Linus doesn’t make him let go, so he stays right where he is, toes curling and insides growing hotter and needier the longer he has to wait for his fill.
Linus’ fingers are good. Really good. They slip in nice and gentle and search around for a while. He clearly is no stranger to gay sex, though the way he moves makes Farmer think that it’s been a good long while since he last got his dick wet with someone. He needs a while to finally get the hang of it and brush up against his prostate, but that’s fine. More than fine, really. Farmer is just coasting, nice and patient as you please, letting Linus get the hang back of things.
He feels like he’s doing some kind of community service letting him mount up, though honestly… it’s more like Linus is doing him a service. With how desperately he’s been eying him up. Practically throwing himself at the older man, whining for cock; needing it filling his belly the second he saw him pull himself out of the water.
What does surprise him, somehow; almost shakes him up to the core, is when Linus asks him in the kindest voice to turn around.
“I would like to see your face,” he croons and when Farmer hesitantly, slowly starts to turn around on his back, he leans over him and kisses him nice and deep with a lot of tongue that he freely slips against Farmer’s own.
Farmer, too overwhelmed with the feeling of curling his arms around Linus and gently being crushed into the hard, unforgiving ground by his warm body, just holds on for dear life.
It’s not like he hasn’t gotten this treatment by Clint and Heisenberg before… but it hadn’t been like this in the end. Not so gentle and slow and indulgent. Almost loving as Linus slowly moves his hips, not fucking into him but letting their bellies and cocks slip against each other in the most delirious drag Farmer could have thought of in that moment.
Everything is wet and hot and slick and inanely he finds himself saying: “You’ll have to go bathing again after this…”
Linus laughs, the apples of his cheeks flushed an adorable pink and the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight. He looks like Santa Claus and that makes Farmer almost dissolve into hysterics because he wonders if it will leave him with some new fucked up kink. Will he ever be able to look at depictions of the guy without getting a boner?
“That is fine, lad. Don’t you worry none. I gladly dip back into the cold stream for this.”
He leans forward and Farmer meats him halfway for a kiss; sloppy and deep and nice.
He tries to think of something, anything that will keep him from blowing his load as soon as Linus’ fat cock starts breaching him. All his overwhelmed brain comes up with is that they are not nearly as secure in the tent as they probably should be. The flap is open and the walls are thin. Anybody going past to get to the swimming pool will hear them fucking, but that does not dissuade him from a low, keening whine the moment Linus starts to breach him with a focused twist of his brow.
The old guy grasps one of Farmer’s legs and slowly, gently lifts it to put it over his shoulder, watching him carefully the whole time. He looks very pleased once he has him situated the way he wants him to be.
“Ah, the wonders of youth,” he croons. “You’re still so nice and flexible.”
Farmer’s mouth works but no sound comes out for the longest time. Certainly no word; those are just running in circles through his skull. He wonders if something changed here in the Valley. He has been around the blocks so many times, he would not have thought that anything could surprise him anymore. But here he is, routinely getting fucked stupid; so enamored with each and every cock that the thought of this being over and Linus pulling out of him already makes him weepy and his nose sting.
Look at him, thinking about the end when it has barely yet begun.
Linus has him spread nice and open and is sinking deeper by the minute, his chest heaving and his cock kicking inside the tight, desperate clutch of Farmer’s body.
He starts to pull out before he has properly sheathed himself, starting up a nice little rocking motion that is so delicious and toe-curling that Farmer finds himself soothed from his previous frenzy into something slower; deeper… almost like he could go to sleep like this, getting fucked nice and slow.
He doesn’t have to do a thing like this; his arms are up at his head, nothing there for him to brace himself against; just the flimsy tent wall that he is too nervous to touch since he doesn’t want to bring the whole structure down on himself.
Only him lying there and Linus filling his hole in the most self-indulgent fuck Farmer has ever been given.
Linus moves him around slow and careful. He’s not throwing his limbs akimbo to be able to deep dick him as rough and fast as possible; he takes care to make sure Farmer’s joints are bent the correct way and Farmer can breathe as his hips are gently twisted while his shoulders are still on the ground nice and firm.
He slides back into him like that; fucking Farmer in that little pretzel shape he has pushed him into and his cock feels so different like that. It hits so many other spots that rarely get any attention at all, heat lapping up his spine and crawling into his chest to make it feel too full to breathe.
Linus is leaning over him; not enough to have to brace himself on the ground but enough to make Farmer feel crowded in the best way possible. He’s still smiling that gentle, grandfatherly grin, arms curled around Farmer’s leg that is folded up against his chest; just holding on to it, the fur on his forearms glowing in the light of the slowly setting sun streaming in from the open flap of his tent.
“Breathe,” he tells him. There’s a bit of a chuckle in his voice even though he sounds breathless himself. “We got all the time in the world. You got all the time to breathe.”
Farmer stares at him for a few seconds longer before suddenly the command hits home and he takes a long, wheezing gasp in.
Linus laughs at him but it feels too fond to be mocking and just strokes warm fingers along Farmer’s trembling belly.
Suddenly he remembers his cock. It’s lying fat and drooling against his other thigh. He could reach for it, except he can’t. He’s stuck lying the way he is, just letting himself get fucked. A perfect pillow princess and Linus does not mind. He does not mind for a damn second, pressing kisses against Farmer’s knee and increasing the rut of his hips slightly.
The stretch and the burn are out of this world delicious. Farmer’s throaty whines become squeaky at the ends, wheezing out into pathetic little whimpers
Linus’ thrusts slow back into a crawl. Every time he is nice and deep, he rolls his hips a little and stars explode in front of Farmer’s eyes when his prostate gets massaged.
“Are you going to come for me like this? Hands off? Like… like a good whore?”
Farmer opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again because his tongue wants to loll out and his throat wants to spasm around a few stuttering moans he’s crooning out just for Linus as he comes, cum spurting warm and delicious from his oversensitive, overeager cock. The orgasm moves through him like a hot wave of syrup. The edges of his thoughts become so fuzzy and soft and nice, he does not even think about asking Linus the question.
In the delicious darkness of his own head he feels like he can hear the chirp of one of the Junimo from the edge of the tent flap.
It goes under in the rattling groan Linus shudders out as he thrusts one last time into Farmer and starts to fill him up with hot, gooey goodness.
