Chapter 4
Four
Nicolas
My coffee goes down the wrong pipe after taking in my new neighbor posing naked on a tractor.
At least I assume he has nothing on, until I get closer, pretending to check my tomatoes and jalapenos.
Patrick, as he introduced himself a few days ago, is leaning back in the driver’s seat wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and boots with some small cloth covering his crotch.
Is that . . . my missing bandana? Yesterday he was on a tire swing, wearing cowboy chaps while masturbating.
Is this some kind of strange kink or fantasy of his?
Exactly who the fuck do I have living next door?
His question about me being a porn star the other day flashes back in my mind.
Is that what this all is? Does he do this for money?
If so, he’s really doing his best to target all those lonely farmers out there.
He’s certainly caught my interest, and I no longer consider myself to be one of them.
Staying busy keeps my mind off not having someone waiting for me at home, and so does the memory of losing too much when I almost did.
Shaking off my thoughts, I walk inside and pack a bag.
My next job is three hours away, in a small town in the middle of nowhere.
If I want to get there before dark, I have to leave now.
The urge to see what else Patrick is willing to do for his followers almost has me dropping everything and rushing back outside.
I can’t. If I don’t do this job, not only won’t I get paid, but I’ll also have bad word of mouth.
No clueless, pretty little twink is worth all that trouble.
My phone lights up on the counter and I get an idea.
Maybe I can keep watching him and cure my curiosity while still doing what needs to be done.
As I’m continuing to pack for my trip, I do some googling and search a few different porn sites.
After lots of different word verbiage and typing in his description, a few different supposed farmers pop up.
One stands out more than the rest. His blue eyes hook me in, and a familiar red bandana is tied around his neck confirming my suspicions.
Hijo de puta. Not only is he a distraction and a nuisance, he’s also a little thief. His silly little username has me changing mine to match.
The page takes a few seconds to load when I click on his profile.
Someone’s been muy ocupado. Four short dirty clips and three images later have me salivating and hungry for more.
My cock hardens like a fucking rock at the small tastes he’s given me.
If I want to see more, I have to subscribe for ten dollars.
I’d gotten way less for more before, and my curiosity has me quickly linking a card I use strictly for online purchases.
More videos come up. Very busy indeed. He’s covered in dried corn kernels in one, while the pretty head of his cock hung out of one of the openings of his underwear.
He's lying naked in a pile of loose hay as he strokes his nipples in another.
My eyes are glued to the screen as his red tip leaks, wetting the thin material of his panties.
Flushed a pretty pink color from head to toe, he arches his back, and he twists at his tiny nubs, his nipple piercings gleaming under the sunlight.
He films most of these outside but the quality isn't as good as what he captures inside.
It's a different camera being used. The impressive number of viewers he’s gathered in such a small amount of time are loving every minute he dedicates to his page, asking a random string of requests.
Some are reasonable while others make my skin crawl. I’m not an easily bothered man, but I can’t help but cringe when one guy asks him to fuck himself with a rusted wrench.
I’m about to exit the screen when another question appears, wondering if Little Bo Peep can dress in a cute sheep costume and crawl along the grass on his knees to lap at a bowl of water. Not something I’d normally think of if the image wasn’t inserted into my mind by a stranger online.
Chuckling, I picture him running in circles in cute, fluffy white ears and a cotton tail.
Yeah, not as much of a turn off as I thought it would be.
Add a butt plug to the other end of the tail and I could possibly be a little turned on by the costume.
Allowing me to be the one to push it inside him would be a definite bonus.
Reaching between my legs, I adjust my cock, wishing I had time to relieve myself. Later.
I type out something and erase it instead of hitting enter. Thinking about all the things I’d want to see again, I decide I’d rather they be something only between the two of us.
Contacting him privately, I send him a short message asking what's required to have a one-on-one chat with him. His response doesn’t come until I’m done loading my two bags into the car.
Little Bo Peep: All depends on how much you're willing to pay.
That name. It’s so ridiculous, yet it's definitely fitting. His message has me wondering what all he’d be willing to do for the right price during my drive to the hotel I’m staying at for the night.
Not stopping for anything and speeding whenever the roads are clear land me at my destination twenty minutes earlier than planned.
Good. Gives me some down time for a little play.
Sheep Finder: I'll pay whatever you think is fair.
No new messages come until I’m slipping into my car again with everything I need for my job tonight.
Little Bo Peep: $50 an hour. Our interactions will only stay on here.
Sheep Finder: Sounds good to me. Book me in for a session tonight. Say midnight?
If I could be available sooner, I would, but the cleanup after a job always takes me the longest, and I would rather not give him a time I can’t meet.
Little Bo Peep: That’s way past my bedtime. I have an early day tomorrow.
Sheep Finder: What time?
Little Bo Peep: 8 a.m.
Still too late for a farmer to be waking up, especially in this heat. I guess it’s better than ten a.m. or twelve in the afternoon, though.
Sheep Finder: How about you fit me in at 6 a.m. tomorrow, then? Will that work better for you?
I send my response, hoping I can get his ass up earlier.
Maybe after helping him come, he’ll have the energy to be more productive.
Based on the number of veggies and fruit going unpicked in his yard, he’s nowhere near ready for this weekend’s farmers market.
He had signs sticking out from the back of his truck and foldable table suggesting he was planning on going.
Did I watch him a little too closely and more than I should? Probably. Will I go out of my way to do it? Only if he gives me enough of a reason to.
Little Bo Peep: What will you have me do that early in the morning?
Sheep Finder: You’ll have to wait and see.
The hot fading sun causes sweat to gather between my brows as I walk to my car.
With sunset just around the corner, I thought the heat would’ve eased up by now.
It’s as hot as it was a few hours ago. My phone vibrates as I’m pulling out of the hotel parking lot, but I don’t check my new message until I’m parked right outside my target’s place of work.
Plucking my phone from my pocket, I lean back in my seat, glancing out the window before looking down at the response from my little shepherd.
Little Bo Peep: In that case, make it $70 an hour. See you at the ass crack of dawn.
Sheep Finder: More like I’ll see you.
If I’m paying seventy dollars for a video chat, he better make it worth my while.
The hour’s delay keeping me from driving home is already going to cause me to fall behind, so he’ll be paying right along with me.
Since he loves nursery rhymes so damn much, I plan to send him on a wild goose chase, and maybe his sounds of pleasure will echo around my property while he’s riding around on a small boat I have sitting near my pond.
Undoing my pants, I take out my cock and hit play on the video of him riding a dildo attached to a small yellow drill.
He’s wearing his cowboy hat again and pushing back on the long, quickly moving silicone dick.
Moans slip from his pretty, lush mouth, and his lips form into an O shape as he slips closer to the edge.
Shaky fingers wrap around his cock as he leans forward, his knees growing unsteady against the ground.
Fuck me. Spreading my legs, I search around the empty parking lot where I’m hiding under a very large oak tree in a corner the lamp posts aren’t shining light on.
In order to think more clearly during my kill, I need to be more relaxed than I am, and more focused on the piece of shit I’m supposed to be drowning in the nearby lake instead of the man falling apart on the screen in front of me.
I spit into my palm before giving myself a few slow strokes, picking up my speed whenever Patrick’s hand does.
Man is he sexy. More like the most mesmerizing person I’ve ever come across.
His milky skin, sparkling blue eyes, and red hair sticking to his forehead.
Don’t get me started on those freckles randomly scattered all over his body.
The lack of scars and bruises makes me want to add some.
Pretty things do look much better when slightly damaged.
He loves being watched, doesn’t he? Needs it. Gets off on it. I don’t miss the excitement shining in his eyes as he stares into the camera. He’s forever got an audience in me. Will he come as hard when thinking he’s alone? I look forward to finding out.
His sounds of pleasure echo around me, and I lose myself in them before spilling my load into my hand. Hot and flushed, he’s fully blissed out, cum covering his milky white stomach. Folding himself forward, he goes still for a long time, shaking and breathing heavily before turning off the video.
Looking down at my cum-covered hand, I grit my teeth. Fuck, I made a mess. Nothing compared to the one I want to make on him. Grabbing wipes from my glove box, I clean myself up and tuck my softening cock back into my underwear before zipping up my jeans.
The next time I look up, a front door is opening and the man I’ve been waiting for has finally emerged from a long night of fucking his secretary behind his wife’s back.
They’ve been sneaking around for the last few months but only recently decided to plan her murder, hoping to disappear somewhere together after collecting that hefty life insurance he has on his wife. Too bad she’s going to beat him to it.
Opening the bag in the passenger seat, I pull out a tranquilizer gun.
He won’t die here. What I was asked to do to him will take too long and requires me to be closer to a huge body of water.
Setting the gun in my lap, I roll down my window.
“Hey, excuse me. I think I might be a bit lost. Is this the Hemmingway building? I have an interview here in the morning and want to make sure I got the right place.”
Mr. Caraway walks my way while nodding. “Yes, you’re in the right place and should have no trouble making it in on time tomorrow.”
“Good,” I respond. “One more thing,” I shout as he’s turning away.
“Yeah?”
“Can you tell me if this is where I’m supposed to go based on this email?” I hold up my phone showing something I received from a spam account this morning, knowing once he’s close enough to spot my lie, he’ll already have a dart in his neck.
He hesitates for a moment before walking toward me again. “Sure thing, pal.” As he closes in, I quickly lift my gun and aim it at his neck. By the time he realizes what’s happening, it’s too late, and I have him right where I want him.
Yeah, taking a load off definitely helped me handle my job better.
Little Bo Peep is going to be more use to me than I realized.
Soon he’ll regret ever moving in next door and showing me what I’ve been missing all this time.
Very rarely do I come across something I want badly enough to keep around permanently, but once I find it, I never let it go.
Nothing will change if Patrick asks me to either.
But will it be better for me to keep him still breathing or as added fertilizer in my garden?