In Charlie’s summer job picking strawberries, he’s got to choose between showering in the red barn or the green barn… And it’s a choice that might change everything. That’s because the green barn is full of men exploring their needs and satisfying their curiosity, and Charlie is eager to do both!
Can he handle the green barn?
Read the whole thing here!
Charlie Smitkowski felt like his body was falling apart. He was working a job at the Arnold family farm in the summer. Luckily he was in a rural part of northern Alabama where the soil was poor, which meant there was not enough demand for farmwork to attract very many of the braceros who did most of that labor outside of Alabama. That was the only reason he and his friends had managed to get a job picking strawberries at all.
It sounded like dainty women’s work. Charlie knew that it wasn’t, that just because little girls loved strawberries didn’t mean little girls were capable of picking them. It was just an odd thought that lingered in him as he got used to the role. It was not dainty work at all.
Not that he was complaining. A part of him wanted it to be a difficult job — Charlie had gained a couple pounds after graduating high school, and he thought a summer of hard work might help him lose the weight. He had a football scholarship to Goldendale Hills University, so he needed to get in shape. He thought a summer job working hard in the fields would be a great way to get himself ready for training in the fall.
Plus his dad was gonna make him work at his car dealership if Charlie didn’t find a job on his own. Charlie would rather work like a slave than work for his father at the dealership.
But he had no idea how arduous it would be. By the end of his first day, he was dripping with sweat. The hot Alabama sun pounded on him like a fist, like he could really feel its rays smacking into him, buffeting him, oppressing him like a wool blanket. It was windy, but that didn’t help, it just blew more waves of heat and humid air all over him. His shirt and his pants were caked onto his skin, like he might not ever be able to undress, he’s gonna hafta peel the clothes off. His socks were soaked in sweat, which also dripped off his brow in rivulets.
He stumbled at the end of the day, unable to even walk with dragging his feet. He staggered through the fields with the other workers, who talked and laughed like they did this every day — of course, they did do this every day. They were just as sweaty as Charlie, but they were better able to tolerate it.
“Yee-haw! I’s going out to the bar once the old lady passes out, who’s wit’ me?! I am gonna get sinful wit’ whichever bar wench looks at me first!”
“It’ll be Edna-“
“Any bar wench except Edna!” They all laughed as though this was a hilarious joke, but Charlie had the feeling they made this same joke every day. A couple of the men grabbed their crotches, outlining their cocks in the denim of their jeans, and spat on the ground — Charlie didn’t know if they were expressing scorn towards Edna or suggesting that they would, in fact, fornicate with her despite her being unappealing. He suspected it was both. He blushed. His father taught him that speaking ill of women, grabbing one’s lower regions, carrying-on and spitting in public were all markers of poor character. But Charlie did not reprimand the other workers; he wanted to be accepted just like the others, so he just nodded and went along with it. He was too tired and too eager to fit in to make a big deal out of it.
There were two barns that the workers split up to go to after their shift was done. One was a red barn at the north edge of the farm. That was where the vast majority of the farmworkers filed off to, already stripping off their shirts. Charlie suspected there would be a line there. There couldn’t possibly be enough showerheads for everyone at once, and Charlie didn’t want to wait.
So he decided to go to the green barn, which was a little further away, along the northeastern edge of the farm, away from the road and away from the main farmhouse. That, he thought, must be why the workers had mostly gone to the red barn, because it was closer and larger and newer. The green barn was distant, small, old-fashioned, ramshackle and it smelled permanently of goats.
It was just a small barn that had been rigged with running water for a big group shower. It wasn’t even an actual shower — the red barn had real showerheads in individual stalls, but not the green barn. The green barn sported a powerful hose suspended over the barn floor and possessing many small holes aimed in every direction — this was not an actual device, mind you, someone had simply poked holes in the hose and upped the water pressure enough to make it spray over the whole of the central showering area in the green barn.
The day was so hot that Charlie dreaded a warm shower, but when he got near, he realized it wasn’t that hot at all. It sprayed lukewarm water. Just warm enough that it felt like a relaxing hug, and it soothed his aching muscles. The barn felt steamy, even though the water wasn’t warm enough to make steam. It felt that way because of the humid air, which felt like mist in the stuffy barn
There was a little changing area with some slabs of wood to use as benches, and next to it was a shelf lined with ratty thin towels and bars of white, unscented soap. But almost the entirety of the green barn comprised the showering area, which was simply on, no way to turn it off that Charlie could see. Maybe it was turned on over at the water heater that Charlie could see was mounted on the outside of the barn. It was dimly lit, but it gave out a cozy air, exactly what Charlie wanted in a group shower.
He’d always enjoyed a group shower.
The green barn was primitive, but it was exactly what Charlie wanted in the heat of the moment. He didn’t want hot water — he would have been happy with ice-cold water if that was an option, but lukewarmish was nice too. He didn’t want to choose a spot to shower in or wait for his preferred stall, which is what he would be doing back at the red barn. He’d have to sit there crowded by naked, hairy men older than he was, their bodies brushing against him and everyone having plenty of opportunity to see Charlie’s dick.
“New guy’s horny, huh?” someone shouted when they realized Charlie was here. The other workers laughed.
Charlie smiled. What did that mean? He wasn’t especially horny. He was too tired right now to figure out what they meant. He didn’t like ribald talk. His father taught him not to act that way.
“Looks like the green-barn type, reckon,” said one twangy redneck with a cock of his head and a suck on his teeth. He chuckled throatily.
“Green barn! The green barn!” They were shouting, at each other and at Charlie, who had no idea what was happening or why they were so excited. Obviously there was some special significance to the green barn, something Charlie didn’t grok. He pretended to be just like the others, and he nodded along as though he knew why the green barn was important.
He felt small and weak in comparison to the other workers. He was the youngest by far — almost twenty, but most of the other young men from the college went to the red barn, it seemed. The men here in the green barn were rough-and-tumble types, would-be cowboys and brawny bikers, men who looked like they struggled to come in to work sober every day. Now that they were getting naked, Charlie could see their muscles and the military, sailor or maybe even prison tattoos they had, reminding him yet again that he was youthful, pitiful and frightened. Charlie’s father said that tattoos were a sin and that sailors were not trustworthy. Charlie felt a twinge of fear as he steeled his nerves.
“Why did everybody else go to the red barn?” Charlie asked Cabel Yoder.
Yoder was the nicest person in the green barn, at least out of the folks Charlie had met so far. He was tall, broad-shouldered, easy-grinned, with a Confederate flag tattoo over his heart. He had a thick mop of blond hair that was soaked with sweat even before he got under the spray of the water, and he had a short rattail sticking out the back. Yoder guffawed at Charlie’s question, attracting attention from the other workers.
“Hey, this youngblood don’t know ’bout the green barn!” Yoder called out. The others laughed along with him.
“What?”
Yoder placed one hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You can still go to the red barn, if you can’t handle the green one,” he said. “You see… The green barn is for men who want to…” He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, making his rattail shake. “Well, it’s for men who got big ol’ balls.”
“… What?”
Yoder laughed again, and the other workers who were within earshot laughed too. Charlie blushed. He was down to his underwear, but most of the others were naked now, including Yoder, whose massive cock put Charlie to shame. It swung between his legs like a pendulum. Charlie found it very distracting, which made it hard to focus on understanding Yoder’s words.
Charlie wanted to drop his own underwear too, to get into the meat of the shower. It was crowded — with maybe fifteen men gleaming wet, soaping each other up, grinning, carrying on and slapping ass — and his underwear was getting wet anyway, from the shower water splattering and misting over this way. But he was still unsure of what Yoder was going to say, so Charlie waited with his hand holding the elastic of his increasingly soaked briefs.
“We trade…,” Yoder said with a wide grin. “Well, we trade, uh… we gets each other off, we do.” He raised his hand to get attention from the other workers, who filed their hairy, sweaty, tattooed bodies into the shower.
“Uh…” Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. Was this barn really meant for that kind of horseplay? He couldn’t believe that. Mr. Arnold — he was the farmer who owned this land, not to mention both barns — was a good, Christian man. He went to the same church where Charlie and his dad went — First Grace. That was how Charlie got this job. Mr. Arnold wouldn’t tolerate any kind of perverted masturbation stuff, would he?
“So, if you ain’t manly enough to handle this, go ahead back to the red barn. That’s a great place for small, weak men who don’t want anyone to see their manhood,” Yoder said.
With an eager grin, Charlie dropped his briefs. His heart thrilled, and he licked his teeth.
Yoder glanced down at Charlie’s cock, which was small. It wasn’t always tiny, it got a lot bigger when it was hard, but Charlie blushed just the same. Charlie touched his dick, which seemed ready to firm up. Normally that would embarrass him in a group shower, but it looked expected here. A couple of the men in the showers were erect.
“It’s okay. Only real men got a need to drain they balls like this. Don’t be embarrassed. If’n you don’t needta, you a bettuh, more civilized man ‘an us.” Yoder and the other workers cheered on their own barbarism. They pounded on their own chests and smacked each other’s hairy asses, laughing at their horseplay.
But of course, Charlie was embarrassed. He didn’t want to seem like half a man. So he cleared his throat and said, “No, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. I’ll… do whatever.” He hoped that sounded more macho than it felt. He looked down at his feet as Yoder clapped his hands.
“Really? Wow, you did not look like the type,” Yoder said with an appreciative whistle. “Thought you was a prettyboy.” He shrugged and headed into the shower area. He closed his eyes as water ran through his thick blond hair and washed over his flesh. His muscles rippled, attracting Charlie’s attention though he tried to look away. He didn’t want to look like what his father called a lavender type.
Charlie went into the spray of the water too. It did feel good. Now that he had relaxed for a few minutes, he was no longer quite so tuckered. He had caught his breath, but his legs still felt like jelly. They might have even felt worse now that they rested for a bit.
“Now get down on ya knees,” Yoder said. He wagged his dick in Charlie’s direction. His thick shaft was jiggly and soapy, fleshy, almost inviting for some reason. Charlie really did want to taste it, even if the others were already teasing him for it and he hadn’t even begun.
“Gulp it down, rookie! If you dare!”
Some of the other men were already touching dicks — frotting, they called that, and Charlie was eager to try it too. They laughed nervously when they did, like they were regretting choosing the green barn. Some of them grabbed each other’s cocks, others touched themselves as they watched, and one hairy men was already slowly humping his cock on someone’s thigh as they chatted about something Charlie couldn’t hear.
Charlie sunk to his knees, his heart swelling with desire as his dick firmed up, though Charlie didn’t touch it.
Yoder had a cocky grin on his face. He slapped his knob over Charlie’s face and laughed when he chased it with his mouth. The dickmeat was slick and sour. It still tasted like sweat even though it had been washed off by the shower spray; it still tasted of salt and body hair and sunlight and loamy soil and a bit of soap, and it still made Charlie hungry despite his distaste for the acridity and the funk of it.
Then Charlie choked but gurgled and swelled to accommodate it as Yoder fed his dick into Charlie’s throat. The taste of cock filled his senses. Yoder’s dick stiffened and hardened so quickly Charlie could watch it firm up until it was hard as rock. It throbbed in his mouth.
“Spread ya lips open widuh, hoss,” Yoder said with a chuckle.
“Is he gonna swaller it? Reckon he is…”
“Oh yeah, he doin’ it!”
Precum leaked down Charlie’s throat. It tasted sour and salty-sweet, and it made Charlie’s eyes water. He was surprised not just by how quickly Yoder was getting hard but also by how hard he got — Charlie was never that hard. Yoder’s cock was like a crowbar in his throat, a hot rod of steel.
He was also surprised because he really didn’t mind the taste of cock or of precum. It wasn’t exactly delicious, but there was something savory and craveable about it. Charlie wouldn’t have minded doing this again.
Not that he planned on doing it again, mind you. He fully intended to shower in the red barn from now on. He didn’t want to admit he had made a mistake, so he would just tell the other workers that he was no longer horny, that he had showered in the green barn today because he wanted to have sex, and after today, he will have chosen to shower in the red barn because he wasn’t that horny. No mistake. No perversion. No impotence. Not a sissy.
But before he could enact that plan, he had to get through today. He was so focused on swallowing down Yoder’s cock that he didn’t hear the other workers chant.
“Stick it in his ass, Yoder!”
“Make him ya whore!”
Yoder seemed wide-eyed and grim, like he didn’t expect it to go this far. Normally they all circlejerked in a big circle, but today half of them watched Charlie swallow Yoder’s dick.
“Okay, now it’s ya turn to bend ovuh, if you want,” Yoder said. He drew in a deep, satisfied sigh. “You don’t got to.”
“What…?”
“Don’t worry, it’s real easy. Just get down on all fours,” Yoder said. He gently but firmly pushed him into position on his hands and knees. Lukewarm shower water sprayed over Charlie’s back, and someone swiped a wad of goopy shampoo — or maybe outright lube — on Charlie’s ass to slick him up.
Then a powerful, mounting pain hit him in the backside. Charlie moaned, in pain first and then pleasure as the most incredible sensation of his life hit him. There was intense pressure that he couldn’t quite handle, and he screamed. Yoder’s powerful body pressed into him.
The other men clapped and hooted. They were shooting their own loads now as they watched, circlejerking onto the floor of the green barn just a few feet from where Charlie crouched.
“Hey, get off!” Yoder shouted, yelping as he pushed Lawrence away — Lawrence was a greasy cowboyish farmworker who had rammed his finger in Yoder’s ass because he thought it was funny. While Yoder worked his dick into Charlie’s butthole, Lawrence got the other workers to watch him slip his pinkie finger into Yoder. They all guffawed together as Yoder shoved Lawrence away.
Yoder grabbed ahold of Charlie’s hair, and he pulled just tight enough to keep him from squirming. “Don’chu try and blueball me, hoss…” Yoder said with a baritone grunt.
Bliss coursing through his veins, Charlie reared his head up. That placed Yoder’s strapping chest muscles right against Charlie’s bare back, so Charlie could feel the strength and the power radiating off him. It made Charlie feel weak, but he didn’t mind anymore. He was glad to be weak in front of Yoder. He wanted to feel Yoder’s dominance on top of him, inside him and throughout every inch of Charlie’s body.
“Don’t say I never did nothin’ fuh you,” Yoder said as he reached around to Charlie’s cock. It was hard, so it had grown considerably, but Yoder still snickered. “Damn, that is one tiny cock.”
“It’s not that small!” Charlie gasped and begged for more pressure in his ass.
But arguing about it just made Charlie seem defensive and drew attention to it. Soon the other workers were kneeling in front of him to see, and they all laughed, gibbering about how tiny it was.
“It’s like a fingernail!”
“Are we sure he ain’t a female?”
Cum popped off all over the place. The shower did not feel very clean, and Charlie now felt dirtier than he had when he first came in. If it was like this all the time, he thought, then the floor here must be covered in cum. That made him feel grimy and gross because he was on the floor now. How many stale old loads was he rubbing himself into right now?
But he couldn’t concentrate on that. His body writhed in both pain and pleasure, precum leaking down Yoder’s fingers as he stroked Charlie off. It was embarrassing to get hard with a cock in his ass, but he couldn’t help it, and Charlie cried out for more.
“Oh, wow, Li’l-Dick Rookie is into it! He loves it!”
“With a cock like that, I knew he was a girl!”
His prostate sang and screamed as Charlie reached orgasm. He grunted. He gasped. He heaved for air, writhing beneath Yoder’s farm-toned muscles. Cum sprayed over the floor and Yoder’s fingers.
Charlie sighed. His entire body went limp and he collapsed belly-first onto the pile of steaming-hot cum he had just sprayed. Yoder cheered.
“Hell yeah, I made ya blow first! That makes me a champion!”
Every else clapped and laughed. Yoder pumped his biceps and wiped his cum-dripping hands off on Charlie’s back. The shower water washed away all the mess from his back, but his stomach — which had become covered in cum when he laid in his own load on the floor — was not facing the water, so most of his semen stuck to his skin there.
Then Yoder withdrew his cock all the way from Charlie’s ass. He called for silence and everyone watched as Yoder very slowly pushed his entire manhood back in.
“Gonna finish now, fill you up on the inside…” Yoder groaned right into Charlie’s ears.
Charlie squealed and yelped. He couldn’t even pretend to be in pain anymore — there was a little pain, but it was overshadowed by the mind-blowing pleasure of his prostate being stimulated. Charlie moaned. His fingers tightened into claws that ripped at the loose, splintery boards of the green barn floor.
He sensed Yoder’s orgasm a few seconds before it began. Yoder’s chortling laughter turned into a low, grumbly groan of bliss, a cringing sound so intense it made the hair on the back of Charlie’s neck stand on end.
Cum sprayed into his ass, a big, creamy load that soaked into his flesh. It dripped into the folds of his guts as he took wad after wad of hot cum. Its heat seeped into his body, and Charlie could feel it in his arms and his legs, his fingers, his toes and even in his face.
Finally it was all over. Charlie was limp, on the floor on his belly, both sides of him covered in cum, both his own and the other workers — they had circlejerked onto the floor, but in the confusion and cramped quarters, Charlie ended up with more than a little bit all of him as well. He couldn’t tell if he should cry, fight or beg for more. He wanted to do all three.
But more than that, he wanted to lay there and bask in the aftershocks of his orgasm. They cracked through his body like earthquakes, so intense he couldn’t think about anything except the mind-blowing experience he had just had. He didn’t know how long he rested there on the floor. It felt like eons.
Eventually, however, he was done. He crawled to his feet, and sheepishly exchanged glances with the other workers who were still here. Yoder had gone, as had most of the others — once they blew their wads and finished their showers, there was no reason to stick around.
One person was left, standing there naked and watching him with pity in his eyes. He was Ernest, the oldest of the farmworkers, well into his forties, maybe even early fifties, though with a well-muscled body that could keep up with the younger workers.
“You okay?” Ernest asked. He put one hand on Charlie’s shoulders as Charlie finally rinsed off all that cum. He felt clean for the first time since he had started work this morning.
Charlie nodded.
Ernest smiled. He led Charlie back to the changing area, where they both slowly put some clothes on. Charlie was dazed and groggy.
“Next time,” Ernest said, “You should hold back. One of the rules of the green barn is that whatevuh you give, you gotta take too. So if you ain’t nut first, you coulda made Yoder bend over and take it up the ass.”
“Really?”
Ernest nodded. “Next time. If’n you ready, I’d be glad to ram you next time.”
“And then I get to ram you?”
“Well… Imma give you a reacharound just like Yoder did,” Ernest said with a grin. He headed towards the door to the outside, and Charlie followed. “If’n you blow ya load in my hand, then you don’t get to ram me. So enjoy it, but don’t enjoy it too much.”
“Oh, okay. I, uh, I can do that,” Charlie said. He wasn’t very confident in that though. He had enjoyed himself so much he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to hold off on cumming the entire time. If it always felt like it did today, he thought, he wouldn’t be able to delay it at all. If it was always like that, he’d never want to slow down.
He decided right then and there that he was going to shower in the green barn every day this summer.