Single Dad Seeking Love

10. Rolling in the Hay

The tent is resurrected and positioned closer to the campsite facilities. The pump-up bed has been re-inflated – inside the tent this time. I chuckle to myself as I admire my work, I’m almost a pro at this now.

I jump at the voice behind me. “You look awfully proud of yourself.”

For a moment, I’m worried Trevor knows about my night visitor, but his relaxed demeanour as he steps up to me makes my shoulders drop.

“For such a big guy, you have a way of sneaking up on people.”

Trevor smirks. “Sure, I’m a big guy.”

I huff and roll my eyes, but embarrassingly, my cheeks go hot.

“Where’s Adam?”

“He’s at Barry’s with his aunt and uncle.” At Trevor’s raised eyebrow, I explain, “My ex’s brother. They are up for the day.”

“Day trippers,” he snorts. “Cause traffic havoc so they do.”

“They also sometimes stay on campsites and line your pocket,” I add in a dry tone.

“Fair enough.” The corner of his mouth tilts in acknowledgement and then he shakes his head. A curl that has escaped his ponytail swishing along his jaw. “I don’t understand how you can cope living in the city. I break out in hives just driving through Portrush with its one traffic light. Ten miles an hour high up on a tractor is my preference.”

“You really are a farmer, aren’t you?” I chuckle.

“Through and through. Fifth generation farmer of this land. Never wanted to be anything else.”

“When you have a farm like this, and where it is, I can’t blame you.” I take a big breath of country air.

“Yeah, it’s something else. My biggest fear is to lose it.”

“Is there a chance you will?”

His eyes flick to mine. “There… there shouldn’t be, but you never know what’s around the corner.”

“The pressure of the four previous generations lays heavy on your shoulders.”

He huffs and his gaze travels over the land around us, taking in all that is his.

“Julie wanted to stay here and help with the farm, but I couldn’t let her do it. The farm is my dream, not hers, and I can’t let her sacrifice her future for me.”

“Yet you’re risking sacrificing your dream for her, by letting her go.”

He doesn’t reply to that, but the crooked smile on his face tells it all. On a deep in breath, he says, “I’ve got some time before my cousin comes over to help with a field. Do you want to have a look at Glenda?”

* * *

Glenda is in an outbuilding that I’m sure could fall over at any time. The heavy metal door slams shut behind us, and all of a sudden, it’s very quiet, just the two of us in the dimly lit space. Can he hear how my breathing is increasing? I wipe my palms on my trousers as I take in the large room, looking anywhere but at the big man beside me.

I clear my throat and try for some small talk to ease the tension in the air. “Why do you have hay in here?” This building, overflowing with old farm equipment, doesn’t seem like the place to have it.

“This shed is more private than the main barn for a romp in the hay.” My eyebrows shoot up and Trevor chuckles. “Na, seriously, it was put here temporarily and I just never got around to moving it.”

His sigh tells me there are a lot of things he never gets around to doing.

Glenda sits proudly at the far wall, all red, rounded roof and green walls. It’s bigger than I thought, a nice porch at the back where the entrance is. The sense of its size changes once both of us go inside. Floorboards creak under our feet as I take in the two spindly chairs, a wooden foldable table and a small ornate shelf with mix-matched crockery, some chipped or missing handles.

“Your art?” I ask with a smirk, nodding to the children’s princess drawings pinned to the walls.

“Cheeky,” he chuckles. “It’s Julie’s. It’s a long time since I played in here.”

The corner of his mouth tilts, making me think of other meanings of “play”. My gaze lingers on his lips. I find it hard to breathe.

His electric blue eyes roam over my body and I shift self-consciously.

“Why did you and your wife split up?”

The question surprises me. “Um, the spark was gone, I guess. Nothing like lockdown to make you realise that.”

His tone dips. “So it had nothing to do with you wanting… something else?”

The room is too narrow and Trevor’s presence is overwhelming. He steps even closer. I quickly turn to the small, dirty window, sucking in the thick air, trying to hide the bulge in my jeans.

“No! I-I never strayed.” Heat at my back. “There’s not much room in this wagon, is there?”

Trevor’s breath fans over my neck. “I think is just enough room to have some fun, don’t you?”

And then he is on me, pressing his body close to mine, the outline of his hardening cock against the crack of my ass as he grips my hips with his large hands and pushes me back to him.

“Wait, Trevor…” I say, but my words lack conviction.

“Wait what?”

I moan as his lips find the base of my neck and my head falls to the side.

“I-I’m not into men.”

A big hand glides around my hip, down… and palms my hard cock.

“Your body tells me otherwise,” he mumbles and squeezes.

“Fuck…” My hip jerks, seeking more of his touch at the same time as words tumble out of my mouth. “Don’t. I’m into women.”

I gasp as the heat from his body disappears.

“I’m not going to force myself on you, Jamie.”

His voice is strained, gravelled, and as I turn, his broad shoulders squeeze through the wagon door.

I rush after him. “Trevor!”

He stops, his back to me.

“I-I’m sorry,” I continue. “I’m confused, I think I’m sending wrong signals.” I swallow hard around the words that seem all wrong.

Trevor huffs and tilts his head up to the corrugated ceiling. “Is that what you think?”

I don’t know what to say, so instead I ask, “Have you… always known you were gay?”

Finally, he turns, eyes burning into mine. “Yeah, ever since I was thirteen and watched Gerald Butler in 300.”

I snort. And snort again. The corner of Trevor’s mouth tugs.

“Did your parents know?”

“About me watching 300 at only thirteen?”

“Dick,” I mumble and now he chuckles.

“Mum knew I was gay, she was fine with it.” His face softens but on a big inhale, his expression changes, goes flat. “Dad did too, but he didn’t really understand, I think. He was older, of an older generation, you know, fifty-three by the time Julie was born. He never talked about it. I think he worried about the future of the farm, if I had no offspring.” His voice trails off, and the remorse for his father is so apparent in the strained lines around his downcast eyes and his slumped shoulders.

“All that guilt.”

His gaze snaps up, his eyes darkening. “All that guilt, and I can’t even get a romp with the hottest guy in camp.”

He thinks I’m hot?

“I-I’ve always been into women.” Why is my tone so weak?

“Yet you’ve checked me out every time we’ve met, from that first time in the reception.” Have I? He lowers his voice. “And you’re hard every time I touch you.”

I don’t know why I step closer, don’t know if I believe the explanation tumbling out of my mouth. “It’s… it’s because… you take away my decisions. You take over. I don’t have to think.”

“You want to be taken care of?”

God, his voice, mocking yet so powerful. A chill goes down my back, and I don’t answer, but grab his shirt and pull him to me.

Hard lips, hard, hard lips that force mine apart, swallowing my cry as his tongue demands entrance. I’ve never been kissed like this, never had anyone grip my head so firmly, never had anyone duel and win the fight for control. It’s freeing. Losing control is freeing. I soften in his embrace and then swear out loud when he bites the column of my throat and almost cry tears of relief when his voice rumbles with the words, “I’ll look after you.”

I rip the band out of his hair and bury my fingers in the soft, curly strands. I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw him. His sweet moan as I tug is a siren’s song, making me want more. Too lost in this revelation, in forbidden sensations, I don’t question when he walks me backwards. Suddenly my balance is lost. I’m falling!

“As I said, this is a nice place for a romp in the hay.” He grins, towering over me where I’m sprawled out on the dry grass. He sinks down to his knees, straddling me, and I’m helpless, lost.

My abs contract as Trevor pushes my polo shirt up and off, exposing my chest and slim waist. Prickly hay scratches my back and callused fingers trace my lean muscles, down to the faint V.

“You are a pretty boy, aren’t you. All these sweet muscles.” He yanks my trousers down, together with my underwear, and my cock springs free. “And such a pretty cock too.”

My eyes roll back in my head as he takes it in his hand.

“Have you ever had a cock in your ass, Jamie?”

“No! Fuck, never,” I gasp, shocked and aroused by his crude words.

“Of course not.” He smirks. “Have you ever taken an ass?”

“Yes.”

“A man’s ass?”

The pressure around my cock intensifies as he squeezes. My hips lift and and I stutter, “N-no.”

“Let’s change that, shall we, city boy?”

I should protest, but words fail me when he gets up. Hunger is chiselled into his features – hunger for me. He reaches into his pocket, then tosses two items on my chest. A small bottle of lube and a condom.

“I come prepared.” He grins.

Mesmerised, I watch him slowly strip out of his clothes. God, he’s a specimen made to worship. I work out, make sure my muscles have some definition, but it’s nothing compared to Trevor’s bulging arms and thighs, crafted through physical labour. I want to make a joke about his farmer’s tan, but all words are lodged in my throat as he pauses before he pulls his boxers down, making sure he has my full attention. Does he ever. His cock is as big as I knew it would be. Thick veins curl up the length to the shiny swollen head. He takes it in his hand, moving the foreskin up and down over the crown.

He sinks back into the hay, a knee on each side of me like before, trapping me. Brown curls frame his face as he leans down and kisses me, hard, eagerly, needy. Strong fingers track my body, ignite my skin. I gasp for air as he lets go of my mouth, and then whimper as sharp teeth have goosebumps spreading where they nip at my throat. His silky tongue make moans spill past my lips as he worships my flat nipples. He does all the work, takes away my responsibilities while whispering, “let me look after you.”

But I crave to touch. Solid muscles flex under my hands, dips and grooves carve out his abs, so different from the softness of a woman. I grip his sides, not afraid of hurting him, I don’t have to hold back. Can’t hold back. Wet is trailing up my length as he rubs his cock against mine. My hips lift, chasing more of the sensation I never thought I’d desire. His chest is moving rapidly, just like mine, as he takes my cock in his big hand and grabs the condom. Expertly, he rolls it down my length and applies the lube. Christ, this is it. I could stop this with a word, but I don’t want to. He pins me with his eyes, positions himself above me, and sinks down on my shaft.

I cry out as tight heat surrounds me. My fingers dig into his strong thighs and my glutes contract and push up. His jaw is slack, his eyes hooded as he slowly starts to rock. This man… I may be the one fucking him, but Trevor is in control, controlling me.

“That’s it… Just feel, let yourself go… you’re safe… You’re safe with me.”

His panted words spin a veil over me, binding me to him. All my worries, my despair, my loneliness – it all fades as Trevor coaxes moans out of my mouth, guiding my hand around his cock, setting the tempo with his strong thighs. Thrills spread from my groin, rippling through my muscles. I try to hold back, but he doesn’t let me. I squeeze his cock, feel it twitch in my palm as I move my hand up and down to the same rhythm as he moves up and down above me. I feel… I feel everything, everywhere.

“Trevor!”

My vision blurs and my cry echoes with his.