My phone vibrates, and I stand up to grab it from the table once I’m done shoving my last piece of sandwich into my mouth. A message from my bank, about the last check being deposited from my old job, shows up on the screen. I frown at the amount. How the hell am I supposed to make it through the next few weeks? Glenn has some money in his checking and savings but it’s barely enough to cover the mortgage, let alone his hospital bills.
Sensing my distress, my dog rubs his face on my knee.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do for money, boy.” It’s not exactly easy to get a new job when I have to watch and work the farm. Besides having animals, Glenn sold at the farmer’s market, ran a hay farm a few towns down, and helped manage a feed store, but his business partners didn’t feel comfortable giving me his share, even if it meant keeping him from losing everything he worked hard for and receiving the best treatment in the hospital. Neither of them had heard of me before. Never have I felt more damn special in my life than when they said, “Patrick who?”
I’m tempted to start sending the bills their way soon once I run out of options. Sighing roughly, I drop the phone on the table and pinch between my brows. A loud sound comes from my computer, and when I walk over to investigate, I realize I forgot to close out of one of the sites I visited a while ago. An ad with a guy wearing a cowboy hat while jerking off andresting his back on a hay bale plays, and I step closer to the screen as an idea fills my head.
No. Shaking my head, I laugh to myself.It’s ridiculous.But I wouldn’t be considering it if I had other options. Could I really masturbate for a bunch of strangers on the internet, though? Would I have to do more than that?
Browsing a few sites, my eyes bulge when a few profiles I stumble upon list the number of subs and tips these guys receive. Would it really be so bad to do it, just temporarily? It’s not like anyone knows me around here anyway, so what do I care about a reputation I don’t have. I don’t have to worry about my family accidentally stumbling on my content since I don’t have any. It was always only my mom, Glenn, and me for as long I can remember. Then after a bad stroke took my mom’s life, it went from three to two.
More research and content watching leads me to creating an Only Fan’s account, and hours later I finally have a photo I’m happy enough with to use for my profile. I’m sitting on the wooden porch swing in my black jockstrap, and my fingers are under the front of my waistband.
Scooting to the edge, I place my feet on the ground to keep from rocking forward and upload my new flirty image. I can’t believe I’m doing this. We’ll see if I’m attractive enough to pull it off. All my piercings can’t hurt.
Standing up from the swing, I walk back into the house and dress in a clean pair of clothes. Shoving my feet into my boots, I walk out through the back door and head for the shed. On the way to grab two hay bales, I think about what type of content I want to make. Tonight, I could post a few pictures, create profiles on other platforms for advertising, and maybe film my first video for when I actually get some subs.
I have a little time to work with, and in the meantime, I can fill my brother’s spot at the farmer’s market. Glenn usually sells eggs, jam, fruit and a few vegetables, but I haven’t been the best at keeping up with caring for his garden. I need to do better. I will definitely have to watch videos onhow to make jam out of the strawberries and peaches growing in his yard. He keeps his garden fenced off from the sheep and I’d hate for it to be torn apart when he returns.
Adjusting hasn’t been easy for me. I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe at times. I’ve been playing this all by ear as I go, but I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to stay afloat. This has to work. If it does, I won’t have to worry about finding a full-time job while I’m here, and instead I can focus mostly on everything involving the farm and house. My brother used to tell me I wasn’t very reliable, and I want nothing more than to prove him wrong.
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 jalapeños. 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. Theimpressive 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.