Upon entering, I was very pleased to see that the long seat at the back of the bus was unoccupied. In fact, with five minutes to go until departure, the bus was fairly empty, with no more than twelve other passengers on board. I eagerly headed for the back of the bus to claim my prize. With most of my fellow travellers seated from the middle to the front of the carriage, my happiness was even more pronounced. I could think of nothing better than an uninterrupted snooze on the five-hour journey that lay before me.

Having just turned eighteen and completed my high school career, I was embarking on my third solo journey to visit my maternal grandparents. After I turned sixteen two years before, my parents decided that I was old enough to make the annual journey to the farming community where my mom’s family lived. My dad was also very relieved that he no longer had to make tedious to and fro voyage, which he had endured in the preceding years.

My mother’s family owned two large farms, and her brother oversaw the running of both farms now that granddad had taken a backseat. My two female cousins were ten and twelve years younger than me and as much as I adored them, they weren’t really my idea of great company. I, nonetheless, loved my visits to the farm and always looked forward to them.

This was not going to be one of my normal visits, however, but a yearlong stay on the farm. I had decided to delay going to college by a year, so that I could really give serious thought to what it was that I actually wanted to do with my life. My grandparents, mother, and uncle, were hopeful that I would be attracted to farming during this period and decide to make it my career.

I would effectively be employed during this year and paid a salary. With my accommodation and meals taken care of, all the money I was going to earn, would, therefore, be saved.

As I sat down on the right side of the unoccupied back seat, I was very pleased about my good fortune as I settled in. With less than a minute to go, however, a rather large man entered the bus and began to move toward the back. I silently prayed that he would occupy one of the empty seats en-route, but to my dismay, he kept heading in my direction.

He was a hefty man, whom I estimated was at least six-foot-two-inches tall and thirtysomething. Although not traditionally good-looking, there was sexiness about him despite his peculiar egg-shaped head. He had very little hair on top of his tapered head, but a fairly dense beard and moustache adorning the broader part of the ‘egg.’ His eyes were his most attractive feature and dark green in colour. His mouth, nose, and ears were overly large, but not repulsive.

My heart sank as he got to the back of the bus and moved towards the other side of the long solid back seat. As he did so, he gave me an acknowledging and friendly ‘hello’ nod. No sooner had he sat down before the bus departed.

Being summer, we were both wearing shorts and t-shirts. He also had what looked like a rolled-up lightweight travel blanket, which he placed on the seat next to him.

I was determined not to engage him in conversation and possibly end up being bored out of my mind by some straight guy. I, therefore, did not glance in his direction nor make any eye contact with him. Instead, I engrossed myself in a magazine that I had brought along.

My mind began to wander as I blankly stared at the publication and I thought back to my previous visit, when I had met Luiz, who was one of the migrant workers on the farm.

My family on the farm made use of migrant labour. There were two farmhouses, where my grandparents lived in one house and uncle and his family occupied the other one. The two houses were about a mile apart. Between the two, there was a large building where the migrant labourers were housed with an attached cottage for the farm’s foreman, who was permanently employed.

I regretfully never got to have a scene with Luiz, although it came close on two occasions. Unfortunately, both times our possible assignation was thwarted by one of his fellow workers. I really hoped that I would see Luiz again and finally get to enjoy his impressive uncut sausage, which I had been fortunate enough to see when he joined me for an outdoor ‘man-piss,’ late one afternoon.

My reverie was suddenly interrupted, when the large form to my left arose from his seat and moved in my direction. With his left hand on the backrest of the seat before me, he extended his right hand in greeting. It almost felt like I had been cornered by him.

"Hi, I’m Kent," he announced.

"Bentley," I countered, introducing myself.

"Where are you headed?" Kent then asked.

After I told him he let out a laugh as he informed me we were disembarking at the same destination. Without being asked, Kent then went on tell me that he was starting a new job as a foreman for two farms. Although he should only have been en-route to this new job several days later, his previous employer had allowed him to leave a week earlier.

Next, when Kent mentioned that his new employer was Guy Thompson, who was my mother’s brother; my heart almost missed a beat. I immediately decided not to tell him that Guy was my uncle, fearful that I would then definitely have to endure his questions and company for the remainder of the journey.

When my turn came to speak, I kept things very simple and mentioned that I was on an annual visit to see my grandparents.

To my relief, Kent then returned to his seat. If for one moment I thought that my ‘ordeal’ was over, I was, however, sadly mistaken.

Firstly, Kent’s posture and demeanour now totally altered and took on a sexually suggestive air. Seated opposite me he leaned backward into the corner of the back row and facing toward me, placed his right leg onto the seat next to him. With his legs wide apart, it was as if he was placing his ‘goods’ on display.

A further advancement to his arsenal was; that now having made my acquaintance, the luxury of not engaging Kent visually or verbally had also been negated from my handbook of non-interaction. Kent had won hands down, and henceforth he would be calling the shots on the bus. In all honesty, a horny intrigue had now also begun to brew within me.

All doubts that I may be barking up the wrong tree, were soon dispelled when Kent rather blatantly commenced rearranging his ‘jewels’ in a very conspicuous manner. A visual battle royale with Kent now ensued, with him blatantly staring and me and me trying to camouflage my curiosity.

Next, Kent upped the ante as his right hand slipped into the top of his elasticized shorts and commenced fondling his genitals. With his hand obviously firmly clamped onto his shaft, Kent then started tugging on his knob.

Several thoughts now crossed my mind. Firstly, I was very pleased that I had not told him that Guy was my uncle, because none of this would then be happening. Secondly, I impishly ruminated over the notion of how he would react when that truth was later revealed.

The boldness of his actions also speared me to new heights and my shyness began to swiftly melt away. Then, when he suggested that I move closer because it felt like he was shouting as we intermittently nattered, I did so hastily. With me seated next to his extended foot, it was very clear that we were on the same page and that all apprehension had flown out of the window.

Up until now, I had enjoyed a few incidents with various guys at school. But, as much as I had liked these encounters they were paltry compared with what was now unfolding before me. Kent was, after all, a real man.

After pushing his shorts down to below his dick and balls, a beautiful uncut cock proudly stood to attention before me. I had always been fascinated by hooded knobs because my numbskull father had decided to have me circumcised as a child.

I almost began to salivate as Kent gripped hold of the top of his knob with his thumb and middle finger, before pushing his index finger into the sheath and twirling it around. As I watched, mesmerized, he lifted that hand to his lips and after thoroughly lubricating his index finger, once more returning it to his dick. As his index finger now whirled inside his hooded cock-head very smoothly, Kent continued to stimulate himself. The pleasure oozing from his eyes was contagious and made me envious with lust.

"Fuck, I wish I could do that," I whispered.

"Are you cut?" he asked.

"Yeah," I ruefully replied.

Next, after altering his grip on his dick he pushed his foreskin upward, creating a crumpled snout off the end of his cock-head.

"Why don’t you lick your finger and stick it in?" he suggested.

I eagerly followed his advice and felt a thrill ripple through my body as my finger entered the cozy moist cove. Kent then gave me a horny look of approval as my digit twirled sensually around his slippery knob-head.

"I thought you were straight," I said softly, as my finger continued to caress his glans.

With a snigger, he replied, "I knew you were a cock-hound. Your eyes gave you away the instant I began fiddling with my crotch."

As we exchanged horny stares he slipped his shorts and underpants off completely. Kent then asked me to pass him the rolled-up blanket he had brought onto the bus. After unfurling it he placed it over his left thigh.

"The other passengers look like they are enjoying their rest so I don’t think we have much to worry about. If anyone does move in our direction, I’ll alert you so you can just move your body back slightly and make as if you are sleeping, while I cover myself with the blanket," Kent instructed me.

After I nodded, he smiled and said, "That pretty mouth of yours has a lot of work to do. Now, take your time Bentley, I don’t want you acting like a greedy whore."

As I lowered my head the masculine whiff of his crotch totally engrossed me. Holding his dick like a cone, my tongue now replaced my index finger in the folds of his rumpled foreskin. The well-fermented pissy taste was as delectable as I had hoped for. Kent then simply let me have my way and allowed my tongue to savour his pungent hood to my heart’s content. For the following twenty minutes, I sucked him off as Kent affectionately toyed with my head.

"Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" Kent eventually asked.

"Mmm," I contentedly murmured.

The flavour of his spunk was awesome. It was voluminous, thick, and tasty.

Happily, two hours later I got another snack and I am happy to report that we weren’t once interrupted by our fellow passengers.

When we finally reached our destination my uncle was there to meet us. I of course dallied and allowed Kent to exit the bus before me. After I observed Kent and Guy in conversation, I moved forward and leisurely exited the bus.

"Ah, Bentley, I was afraid that you may have missed the bus," Guy jovially exclaimed. Then turning to Kent, Guy said, "Kent, this is my nephew, Bentley. Did you two meet on the bus?" Guy inquired.

The look on Kent’s face was priceless. "No," I quickly retorted, before resuming, "I did see Kent on the bus but we didn’t speak to one another."

"Well, let me introduce you. This is Kent, who is our new foreman," Guy concluded.

"Nice to meet you, Kent," I replied, loving the look of uneasiness on his face.

"Well… let’s head home," Guy then suggested.

"Why don’t you sit in front with Guy," I recommended to Kent as we arrived at the vehicle.

As we drove home I continually squeezed Kent’s right shoulder as I perpetuated my fun at his discomfort. It was childish I know, but I simply couldn’t help myself.

When there was finally a lull in their conversation, I asked, "Is there a spare bed in the migrant’s quarters, Guy?" Without pause, I the resumed, "I just figured that as I am going to be employed as a regular worker on the farm from now on, maybe instead of being mollycoddled by grandma, I should learn the ropes properly."

"Unfortunately, not," Guy answered.

"Isn’t there a spare room in Kent’s cottage?" I then proffered, knowing full well that there was.

"There is," Guy retorted, "But that Kent’s cottage and if he has guests, well, at least they’ll have a place to stay."

"Are you planning to have guests, Kent?" I innocently asked, as I again squeezed his shoulder.

"Not really," Kent answered clearing his throat.

"Well… are you willing to put up with me in that case?" I innocuously inquired.

"Please don’t feel impelled to agree, Kent," Guy quickly intervened.

Kent instantly replied, "Well, why don’t we give it a go and see how that works out?"

I was now totally apparent that Kent was on the same page as me and actually quite enjoying the dare I had set him.

"Okay, I am cool with that," Guy concluded, before resuming, "But if it doesn’t ultimately suit you, then Bentley can move in with his grandparents," Guy finalized.

When we arrived home I dropped my stuff off at Kent’s cottage. Naturally, my first port of call was to visit my grandparents.

Upon my return an hour later, Kent stood in his cottage awaiting me. "You little cunt," he said, "Did you enjoy setting me up?"

"Yes," I replied, bashfully.

"Well, when we have dinner with your grandparents tonight, I’m going to make sure that your arse is really sore," he brusquely informed me.

In a flash, Kent then put his hand on my neck and steered me through to his room. After commanding me to take all my clothes off, Kent threw me onto the bed on my stomach. As I lay naked on the bed, Kent mounted my body and pushed his dick into my backside.

My first year had just off to an incredibly good start. As Kent commenced vigorously fucking me, I wondered if I would see Luiz the following morning.

To be continued...