Hunter wiped the sweat from his brow as he tossed the last bit of clean hay into the stall. "There you go, Maple," he said to the chestnut mare in the opposite pen. "Nice and clean for you, old girl."
He tossed to pitchfork aside and unbolted the door. With the click of his tongue, the young farmhand led Maple back to her cleaned stall. Hunter gave the horse a pat on the rump before bolting her inside.
He leaned on the door and smirked, "Your mama must loves you lots to set you up with that fine straw." Looked softer than his mattress up in the loft, that was for sure.
"My daughter takes care of the things she loves."
Hunter turned at the deep voice and was surprised to see his boss standing not far behind him. For such a bull of a man, Vernon moved damn near quiet as a cat. Vernon was a tall man with broad shoulders and muscles sculpted from years of working the fields. A greying beard framed his heavy jaw and barely brushed the top of his barrel chest.
In a way, Vernon was the type of man Hunter hoped he would become as he grew older. Though he knew he would never be as tall, he hoped the hard work would bulk his already hardy physique. He also wished his own short, somewhat patchy beard had the potential to one day be as refined as Vernon's.
Vernon removed his cap and wiped his brow. It gave Hunter a moment to catch a brief glimpse of the older man's receding grey hair before the hat was replaced. Part of him also hoped he would keep as much of his hair as his boss.
The old farmer crossed his arms and stared down at him from under heavy eyebrows.
"Something on your mind, boss?"
Vernon huffed. "You know my Claire has her eye on you?"
Hunter gulped- he had been aware that Maple's mistress had been keeping an eye on him lately. Claire watched him as he worked like a vixen watching over a coop of chickens. She would come out in jeans that fit her like a second skin and shirts that were sure to show what God had gifted her during development. Claire often did things that got the other farmhands staring. Still, he knew she was trying to get his attention, specifically. It made him uncomfortable; too many times had someone he knew been fired for the advances of the farmer's daughter.
"I uh, I haven't made any advances toward her, sir." Hunter could feel new sweat forming on his brow. Had Claire said anything about him flirting with her?
Vernon watched him for a moment and then smirked. "I know you haven't, son, stop shakin'." The older man stepped closer, and Hunter felt his back press against the support beam of the horse stall. "She don't seem like your type, anyway."
Hunter was about to ask what he meant when Vernon took his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Vernon tipped the shorter man's head back, so they looked eye to eye. Hunter found himself stunned to silence as he stared into his boss's harvest green eyes. They were lined with deep furrows, like tilled fields. The two of them stood almost chest to chest, and Hunter could feel the heat from one of Vernon's legs as it moved between his.
"You like workin' here, son?" the older man asked in a hushed voice.
"Yessir," Hunter swallowed as Vernon's thumb pressed against his bottom lip.
"I like having you around. You're a real pretty man to look at." Hunter nearly jumped when he felt his boss's large hand firmly grasp his crotch. "Dadgum, boy, what you got goin' on in there?" Vernon hummed thoughtfully before removing his hand.
Vernon's fingers rubbed along Hunter's crotch, teasing along the seam of his jeans. It wasn't long before he had the younger man groaning and grinding in rhythm. He chuckled when Hunter whined as he pulled his hand away. Unfastening the button on Hunter's jeans, Vernon quickly replaced his hand inside the farmhand's underwear.
His thick fingers slid along the wet slit until he found the aroused head of Hunter's clit. He took the elongated organ between his fingers and began to stroke him. "So you're one of those types, huh? No wonder you're so pretty."
