Category Archives: Rural
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PITCHING
Posted on November 30, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralRonnie ached. His back, shoulders and arms were so sore he couldn’t lift or
move.“You’ll be better” he was promised by Sarge the boss and his uncle.
Carl just laughed at him.
“You were the same way when you started working for real” Sarge dismissed
his son’s laughter “Here you put linement on him tonight”.Ronnie wasn’t sure about that. His expected erection would reveal things he
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didn’t want revealed to his cousin. They had known each other since
childhood. They had compared experiences, schools, parents punishment and
even pubic hair as years flew by. -
Cock Crazy Cowboy
Posted on August 19, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralFrom: wweast@webtv.net How would you like to be stranded at the tender age of eighteen without a cent in some godforsaken berg in the Texas Panhandle? It was summer vacation and my parents had given me enough money to travel to Dallas and work for my uncle who has a hardware store. I was going [...]
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Doug’s Thing
Posted on August 18, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralFrom: Gerard Martineau Doug had a “thing” for long white cotton underwear. He liked the feel, the tight fit, the sensuality of the material. He had this love for the garment ever since he was young but it had grown when puberty hit and he had discovered the joys of masturbation. He loved to lie [...]
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Natural
Posted on June 24, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralThe earth moved under his bare feet. It had for years each summer the kids went barefoot, but somehow it was different this time.
The soil emerged through his toes as if welcoming each step as natural part of the evolution of nourishment.
He reached out and grabbed one of the not ready for picking ears of corn. It felt good in his hand as he continued to run.
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Jimmy’s Instruction
Posted on June 18, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralAt 15 I was full of piss and vinegar and rowdy as hell. My single-parent mom had no control and, honestly, didn’t want it. I drank, smoked, partied hard and had sex with as many girls as would have it. I wasn’t big, only 5-6 and 145, but I had attitude and new how to use it. My life was about to change in a most dramatic fashion and I never even saw it coming.
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African Farm Blond Hunk
Posted on May 28, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralI worked in Zimbabwe during my twenties as a telephone engineer. I was an area supervisor and as newer equipment arrived at exchanges, one of my jobs was to go out and see what needed to be done to update lines to all habitable dwellings. The area I covered was a huge tract consisting mainly of farms, but with a few bustling mining towns as well. Enough to keep me busy, anyway.
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SEVEN IN A BARN
Posted on May 26, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralThe seven young men were more or less strangers to each other. Some of them had come from other towns and were eager to know each other better. None of them had ever seen any of the others naked, had any intimate contact with them, or heard tell of how well any of the others were endowed or what their sexual prowess could be. However, it was understood by all concerned that such questions would be answered, but their imaginations would its role until all these things became reality.
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Roughneck Lust
Posted on May 24, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralThe main thought running through my mind was whether I’d be able to pay any attention to the oil pump or not — this man was HOT. Around my own height at 6′, big thick black beard, black hair in a braid to the middle of his back, and wearin’ only grungy black boots and a pair of greasy, oil-stained overalls that showed off his muscular upper body, as well as the thick, fine black hair that covered his back, shoulders, arms and chest. I decided that his build matched his name when he mentioned his name was Mason — he was built like the proverbial brick wall.
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Shed Story
Posted on May 12, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralMary picked me up at the Station. She embraced me and hugged me, gave me kisses and started talking and talking and telling me how good I looked. It was no secret in my family that I was gay so she asked me if I had met any interesting men. I told her I hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a lie, but though Greg was my lover in a way I had tried to convince myself that he was little more than a bastard with a flat character. She continued talking and telling me that a cute boy would have to get the attention of lots of gay men.
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Farm Fun
Posted on April 24, 2010 by BathHouse in RuralI’d been forced to move to my grandfather’s farm when my father died. My mother said we couldn’t afford the house. There was no insurance, a long illness, after which we moved to the sticks. After living in Aurora, Colorado, a suburb of Denver, I found it difficult living out where the next house was two miles away. My grandfather took me and picked me up from school, and then there were chores to do both before I left and once I returned. I would earn my keep. “Everyone works on a farm.”
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