Hunting to Farming

The continuing story of BJ, Maurice, and the others.

NOTE: This is a work of fiction intended for adults only. The story is entirely imagined by the author. Although the names of some of the places referenced in this story are real, the businesses, people and events are pure fiction. Please note that this story was written by a human being

without

the aid of any Artificial Intelligence created text.

Special thanks

to a volunteer in Literotica.com's Volunteer Editors program, neuroparenthetical, for his great editing work, his patience, and his professional advice.

Mistakes may still pop up; they're mine.

© Copyright 2023/24 WhiteBeard50 - All rights reserved

***

Tuesday, 24 December.

"Aaaah, little bear. Yeah! That's it, baby. Ooooh... Chriss..." Maurice comes with my cock plunged deep into him; I'm almost ready to explode. I slowly continue humping him while his strong legs are tightly wrapped around my butt, and he's squeezing his ass hard, trapping my engorged cock deep inside of him.

Then it's my turn. "Oh! Man... Maurice." It's just a whisper that I sing into his ear while he's kissing my neck. Our souls once again melt into one magnificent union. Absolutely amazing. We're floating in our lover's heaven, embracing each other completely—soul, mind, and body.

We've been making love for the past two hours, at least, in total darkness. As we calm down and start breathing normally, we kiss tenderly. His strong, hairy farmer's arms are holding me down on top of him, and he's rocking me very gently from side to side while he murmurs in his sexy bass voice, "I love you." My cock slips out of him, then we untangle ourselves and reluctantly get up.

We shower, but without quickie. That's rare for us. We're getting married today—our Big Day. Strangely enough, neither one of us is nervous... yet. We have our morning chores to do. I'll take care of the horses, and Maurice will take care of breakfast and getting everything ready for lunch.

We only have a few guests. Asami and Akio, my university roommates and mothers of my children, are bringing the kids, who will stay with us during the holiday season. Their mothers will stay a couple of nights and leave on Boxing Day. We have six bedrooms plus an office/library with a queen murphy bed, and three sofas in the large living room. Asami and Akio each have their own room, of course. They are a handful—curious and questioning everything we do. They both love "Big Pa," their nickname for Maurice, who loves to play with them.

Rick, accompanied by a lovely young woman, Angèle, arrives just as I get back from the stable. Maurice took care of setting up the table, and his Irish stew is slowly warming up at the back of the wood stove. When we return from City Hall, we'll put it in the oven as we rekindle the stove.

"You two better hurry," Rick says. "BJ, you smell like Charlie. You need a good scrubbing."

"Yup!" Maurice agrees, looking at me with eyes screaming his lust. "I need one, too."

We shower again. I really do smell like a horse, and while I'm washing my great Big Bear, I look at him with delight; my hands rub his strong, broad shoulders and his back, covered with dark fur from neck to ass. Of course, I play with his big tool, just for a little while. His perfectly proportioned body turns me on every time, all the time—even when he's dressed. I love those hard buttocks separated by that tight, short, furry ass crack that hides his delectable rosebud, guarding his love canal into which my cock fits so perfectly well and so comfortably, and the thighs, strong and muscled. He has the body of a hard-working farmer.

Suddenly, my kids' symphony fills our home. While we're getting dressed in our fancy clothes, I can hear Asami and Akio assailing the guests as they arrive. Judging from the commotion downstairs, I think they are all here now.

"You ready, BJ?" Maurice is dressed in a smart, black suit made of pure wool, a matching formal black sweater with a knitted mid-neck collar. He's wearing his beautiful black and silver cowboy boots. He looks like the most gorgeous man in the world to me. He's one sexy dude dressed like that. Oh, my! That bulge and that ass. They make it hard to control my urges.

"I'm ready, my Big Bear."

"Christ, BJ. You look so fucking sexy in that suit; that ass of yours drives me nuts. What about those boots?"

I'm wearing cowboy boots, black with light brown inlays, a gift from my husband-to-be. My Big Bear is smiling at me. He approaches and takes me into his arms. "Thank you for marrying me, my love. This has got to be the best Christmas gift of my entire life. Christ, I love you."

I can't help the tear that slowly comes out of my left eye. My heart hurts; it's beating so hard.

"Maurice, I'm..." Nothing more comes out. All I can manage in a barely audible whisper is, "I love you so much." Maurice holds me tight. For a couple of minutes, we're silent, choked by emotions. I feel his heart beating wildly and his deep breathing through his nose close to my ear. I'm holding on tightly to my dream man. Then reality checks in.

"Hey, boys," Mitch yells from the bottom of the stairs. "Time to go." He's waiting with his wife, Elena; Ben, her brother; Rick and Angèle; Steve; Bob and Cindy; Nozomi and Akari; and my two little hearts, Asami and Akio. We wanted them with us for our very special day.

As we come down the stairs, hand in hand, they all applaud. Neither one of us can talk. Thank the gods for the kids. They run towards us, yelling, "Daddy, daddy, bib pa, big pa." We grab one each, and the tears that are about to flow turn into big smiles. These two lively bundles of joy fill our hearts and, I confess, save us from an embarrassing emotional moment.

Rick shakes his dad's hand and whispers something to him, then hugs me and murmurs to me, "Thanks for making him so happy." He slaps me on the back and tells everyone that it's time to go.

Man, I am so bloody nervous; I forgot to say hi to these wonderful friends of ours. Maurice sticks to me, and, like me, he seems all bottled up. We are both weak at the knees, but one look at him—into his eyes, especially—calms me down. That's a lot of emotions for guys like us, who are not used to broadcasting them. We do it in private when we're alone, but never in public.

Mitch is my best man, and Rick is his father's. They are both dressed cowboy-like, cowboy hats included—gifts we bought them as a reminder of our wedding day. Mitch bought us the same black hat with a brown belt.

*

It's a beautiful day, bright and sunny, but a tad cold at -12° C. An hour later, after a quick and simple ceremony, we are husbands. It seems to me that the whole village is at City Hall to congratulate us—a big, unexpected surprise. Maurice is a very popular man in the village of St-Jean-Baptiste. He's always available to lend a hand when needed. The funniest thing about all of this is that every person attending our wedding is wearing a cowboy hat—men and women alike.

After shaking so many hands and being hugged by so many people, we finally make it home. Maurice and I sit with the kids in the back of the car driven by Rick, and Angèle is sitting next to him; she's a beautiful, smiling young lady. Nozomi and Akari, the kids' mothers, are following us with the rest of our guests in tow.

Elena and Angèle added Christmas decorations, which they brought with them, to the huge table and adjusted everything to add a place for Angèle and Cindy—a surprise to be sure—before they all left for City Hall. The whole house smells of that mouthwatering Irish stew. "A simple meal for simple folks," Maurice says. "Homey, tasty, and so filling." Angèle brought a carrot cake—my favourite cake. It thrones in the middle of the buffet, where all the sweet goodies are displayed. My kids are eyeing them already. Mitch casually steals a couple of chocolates and gives them to the kids. They kiss him and run, giggling, to the living room to hide behind the big couch.

I get all the side dishes from the cold pantry and puts them on the kitchen island. Then Elena and Angèle place them in their proper place on the table. What a wonderfully lively meal. Everyone gets into the conversations. Maurice's Irish stew is perfect. He and I sit side by side in the middle of the long table, with one kid sitting on our lap the whole time. Akio always sticks to Maurice like a magnet to metal. That's how it always is with him and Asami. They even stood with us during the whole ceremony at City Hall. We feed them and they feed us; they're having the time of their lives. After the meal, to my great sadness, there's no more carrot cake left when I ask for a second piece. It's one of the best carrot cakes I've ever had. Angèle promises to bake another one just for me. She also offers to give me her recipe; everyone bursts out laughing. Elena explains to Angèle and Cindy why everyone is laughing so heartily—BJ can't cook.

Maurice invites our guests to stay with us to welcome Christmas. We have a light supper because Maurice prepared a traditional réveillon Québécois: tourtière, meatball stew cooked in a homemade brown sauce, mashed potatoes and carrots, and a whole lot of other side dishes. The evening is like a dream: everyone enjoying themselves in Maurice's beautiful house. We sing and square dance, with Ben—Elena's brother—calling the latter. We line dance, making fools of ourselves. At some point, my son, Akio, falls asleep while sitting on my lap, and my daughter, Asami, cuddles Maurice, sound asleep, wrapped by bib pa's right arm. We bring them up and put them to bed. It's sometime around 10 p.m., which means they can sleep a little bit before Santa delivers the gifts.

At ten minutes to twelve, Sante—Ben—comes into the house loudly singing HO! HO! HO! and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. Akio and Azami run downstairs, smiling with their big eyes wide open. Everyone is kissing and hugging, and Santa invites everyone to sit.

A couple of hours after Santa's distribution of the gifts, we say goodbye to all of them. Mitch drags Elena, Rick, Angèle, and Ben to the party held by the employees in their 'community barn'—an old barn they converted into a social gathering place. Steve, Bob, and Cindy return to Montreal, while the kids' mothers stay with us for the night. The house is big. We've got room for even more people.

Before going to bed, I make sure the kids are okay. Akio is sleeping completely uncovered, with a leg jutting out from the side of the bed. I delicately replace his leg on the bed, then put the comforter back over him and tuck it under the mattress. I look at my son for a long moment and then kiss him on the forehead. Asami is sleeping soundly on her side, covered to the neck. She prefers her room a little cooler—around 18°C. After a long moment of looking at her, too, I kiss her on the forehead. I'm a dad; it's an unbelievable feeling of pride, joy, and fear, all wrapped up so tight that it becomes a single, unnameable emotion. I love them more than anything in the world. I can't help thinking that if Maurice had shown dislike for the kids, I would have certainly chosen my children without the slightest hesitation and lived with a broken heart for the rest of my life. As it is, he loves them as much as I do.

As I come out of Asami's room, Nozomi, her mom, dressed in her fluffy pink house coat and wearing outrageous pink bunny slippers, is coming to check on her. She thanks me for the wonderful evening and for being such a good father to our daughter and Akio. "They both love you so much," she says. I blush, as usual, and wish her good night

I get back to our bedroom, and Maurice is standing by the bathroom door in all his natural glory, smiling. What a magnificent, virile man! I undress as fats as I can. My big, hairy bear of a man watches while his dick gets harder and longer with every piece I take off.

Under the hot shower, we kiss and rub every single square inch of our bodies. We let the hot water relax our muscles and our minds. We slowly come down from the high induced by the great wedding party and the amazing Christmas Eve we've just had. We kiss tenderly and hug for long minutes at a time. There's no rush. We have all night. I love touching his hairy, hard-muscled body. I hold his thick cock in my right hand, stroking slowly, while my left hand plays with his gorgeous balls. I'm standing behind him with my wet, naked body firmly pressed against his dream ass and solid back. That's heaven. His growl sounds like a long and low purr. He likes to be handled that way, and I love doing it. It's sensual and erotic, and it prepares us for the untold pleasures soon to come.

We dry each other with large, fluffy white towels and walk hand in hand to our wedding bed. Two beautiful red roses lay on the pillows. There's a note next to one of them. Maurice picks it up and reads it aloud. "I love you, Dad. I love you, BJ. I'm so proud to be your son. Love, Rick." Maurice, immobile, holds the card with a slightly trembling hand. After a moment, he takes the roses and puts them on the nightstand—a rare emotional moment for my grizzly lover. I remain silent, not wanting to ruin his moment. He gives me a soft, loving glimpse.

"I fiercely love my son, BJ," Maurice says in a low, almost imperceptible voice. "I know you feel the same about your children, and I love them, too."

"Rick is my best friend," I whisper, "and that says it all."

Then Maurice bends to turn down the bed, giving me the sights of sights—his ass, and—between his thighs, open for my benefit—his perfect sack, and the tip of his penis. Surely, I'm dreaming. I get right behind him and gently caress his buttocks and the valley they protect. He grunts, smiling. He gets in bed and waits for me to get next to him. I look at him in all his splendour while he licks his lips, and his dark brown eyes devour me.

I get in bed, straddle his lower body, and start kissing him all over. "I love you, husband," I whisper in his ear. He wraps his big, furry arms around me. "I love you so fucking much, my cute husband. I'll make love to you all night long, BJ." He pauses a second, then says, "I'm sorry we couldn't have a honeymoon vacation."

He kisses me around the neck, and his tongue finds my mouth. We kiss with a new passion; we are married. His big hands rub my back, then venture down towards my sweet valley. He rolls me onto my back and leans over me, our kissing never halting. Hands and tongues are busy rediscovering all of our sensitive spots. He rolls on top of me, careful not to crush me under his weight, his big cock rubbing mine. Oh, man, that's so good!

"I love your hairy body, little bear. I want to fuck you now. I can't wait anymore; I need to be inside you, BJ."

We're silent lovers, and when we talk, it's a whisper, a murmur, and sometimes a simple grunt or growl, a rumble, or even a purr.

"Make me yours, my husband." I lay there on our king-sized bed, surrendering to my Big Bear's total control.

His mouth and tongue move down from my neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He kisses and licks my hairy chest, then sucks my nipples while his hands are holding mine, fingers interlocked. His nose furrows through my hairy armpits, and then his big, rough hands caress my body. I shiver with pleasure. His tongue occasionally plays on my skin, and down he goes, unhurried, pleasuring every inch of my most assenting body.

His chin circles my groin, and I can hear him breathe loudly. He looks up at me and smiles. I wink, and his nose plunges into my pubic hair. His tongue finds the base of my hard cock, of which he licks the entire length. He finishes at the tip of my throbbing, swollen, and ultra-sensitive knob, freed of its protective skin. I shiver and purr like a cat. His tongue goes around the edge of my glans, which disappears into his wet, warm mouth. He sucks it lightly, takes half of my thick eight inches, and slurps to his heart's content. He moves up and down for a minute or so, going deeper on each plunge. He's driving me crazy with lust. He sucks my cock hard for a couple of minutes, and when he feels me out of breath, he pulls out, looks at me, and whispers, "Not yet, love."

He turns me around and lowers his head to my bottom. Oh! That's a surprise! He kisses my hairy lobes, and his nose furrows down my valley. His big hands spread my cheeks, and his tongue, wet and willing, laps my butt valley, passing over my rosebud several times.

"Oh! Damn... Oh! Maurice..." I start squirming with intense pleasure; his big hands hold me tight. His tongue suddenly stops just above my love hole; he's teasing me with the hard tip of his tongue, picking at my rosebud. Then he starts playing around with it and munching on it. He sucks it lightly; he's killing me. I feel a little pressure on my hole; his tongue finds its way inside.

"Aaaah, Maurice..." I jump a little.

He holds me tightly, pushes further in, and starts tongue-fucking me. OH! Fuck! What a feeling! I can hear his low, rumbling growl as he moves in and out. I'm going to come.

"Maurice... Mau... I'm coming." As I try to grab my cock, he slaps my hand away from it. He leaves my ass and takes my whole cock into his mouth. I'm dying. He's sucking my cock deep in his mouth at the edge of his throat, and bang! I shoot...and scoooorrre!

My mind goes wild. Flashes of light, fireworks—call it what you will; I'm gone. I've reached my paradise, my heaven. My body is stiff, my breathing is out of control, and my heart will explode momentarily. Maurice keeps my cock in his warm mouth, making sure he slurps and swallows every bit of my most intimate juice.

A bit later, I start coming down from my high. Man! What a high it was! Maurice slips his body over me and kisses me deeply and passionately, pouring all his love into it. I can feel him, and I respond in kind. I love him so much. He looks at me and, with this sneaky smile of his, he says, "Now that I've warmed you up a little, my sweet lover, can I fuck you?" Then he laughs; it's deep and rumbling—sexy and masculine.

I put my arms around him and ask, "Will it be better than what you just did?"

"I'm gonna make love to you until you plead—no, beg me—to leave you alone."

We laugh, then quickly resume our lovemaking. My big bear is hard and ready; his cock is full of precum and thus perfectly lubed. I'm certainly hot, wet, and ready.

He kisses me down my chest and belly. I pull my knees alongside my chest. He takes his hard, meaty, stick and places its head on my rosebud. His cock penetrates me easily until his heavy balls lay on my crack. Then he lowers himself like he always likes to do, so that we're facing each other and looking into each other's eyes while we make love. The entire length of his nine-inch-plus-thick cock fills me so completely. It's so delicious. He starts humping slowly, and when his knob reaches my sphincter, he pushes back in until his sack hits my hole. We patiently progress our movements in rhythm, aware of the other's every breath, every heartbeat, and every little move of satisfaction or uneasiness. Our eyes never waver; we let ourselves completely go, trying to satisfy each other fully, trying to become one—one who reaches the pinnacle of orgasms, where we find each other's soul.

Maurice's control is perfect. He knows where my soft spot is, and he hits it at will. Sometimes our eyes will lose sight of the other's when we kiss. My big bear loves to kiss me while moving so deliciously on top of and inside of me. Christ! I love him. He loves to murmur the sweetest things into my ears. I feel his manhood moving inside of me, and I squeeze it regularly. I hear him growl when I do that. I rub his back and the top of his buttocks, and I push him inside me with my legs and heels. Our rhythm increases as our bodies send signals that they will need relief soon. Maurice continues his perfect movements. He's not slowing down; he wants to come. I had an orgasm already; now he needs his, and I'm starting to work harder with him to get him there. We are embraced, holding each other tightly, and moving faster and faster. OH! Christ. I'm going to come again. I want him to come first, but we're too far gone now, and Maurice, as usual, says, "Let go, BJ. Come. I'm coming too, baby. Let ggg... BJ, my love, oh, fuck! I love you."