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"Down on the Farm"

Title: Two Hearts - Down on the Farm
Author: Barrelracer
Genre: Slash/ Comedy
Pairing: Torksmith
Rating: NC 17
Warning: sexuality, dirty words
Disclaimer: I do not own The Monkees (only Willy, Henry and Uncle Ron)
and do not claim in any way that this ever happened.
Added Disclaimer: No animals were harmed in the writing of this fic, this fic was written without the full support of Henry (who’s name has been changed to protect the innocent), and Willy (who’s name was not changed because he’s liable for previous damages). Let it also be noted that soon after this fic was written, Uncle Ron sold the farm, changed his name and moved to Siberia.
Summary: Mike and Peter pay a visit to Mike’s uncle’s farm.
Author's Note: I have a slightly warped sense of humor, as you can tell from this fic.


Mike whistled a jaunty tune as he turned the Monkeemobile off the highway onto the dirt road that would take him and Peter right up to his uncle’s front gate. Two weeks before, he’d gotten a letter inviting him and the rest of the guys to come for a visit on the farm. Both Davy and Micky had declined, Davy because he’d just started dating his latest conquest and Micky because……well, Mike didn’t really know why but as it were it was just he and Peter making the trip.

Mike tried to keep his eyes on the road as he steered the big car around a slight curve, but couldn’t keep from glancing over at Peter, the corners of his lips turned up in an amused smile as he watched the bassist do another excited wiggle in the passengers’ seat for the umpteenth time. For the past two days Peter had talked of nothing but the trip, the excitement showing plainly in his expressive hazel eyes. Mike had warned him that they were very likely going to have to cool things down between them, at least for the few days they would be at his uncles’ farm. Because even though his uncle had a live and let live attitude about most things, Mike didn’t think he would take kindly to the fact that his nephew had taken another man as his lover. Luckily, Peter had told him that he understood and that it was ok with him, just as long as he and Mike were together.

Peter’s eyes were glued to the scenery as it drifted by, the lush green grass in the pasture was protected by a wooden fence that was badly in need of a new paint job but the John Deere tractor sitting near the gate looked like it was well taken care of.

“That’s hay.” Mike explained proudly, then blushed a little when Peter turned to look at him. “My uncle grows his own hay.”

“Wow, that’s cool and he has a garden too right?”

“Uh huh, fresh vegetables every day.”

As Peter turned to look back out the window once more, he spied a large house in the distance. “Is that your uncle's house?”

“Yep, almost there shotgun.” Mike said, reaching over to clasp Peter’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He had a feeling trying to keep his hands off Peter would be much easier said then done as he felt the hand clasped in his return the slight pressure. The nights would be the hardest he knew, not one night had gone by since the two had gotten together that had not been spent wrapped in each others arms. Mike gave another quick squeeze to Peter’s hand then released it as they pulled up to the sprawling farm house.

The big car rumbled to a stop in the front yard just as a tall, slightly heavy set, grey haired man wearing faded denim bib overalls came out the front door. Setting the chipped coffee cup on the porch railing he stepped down to greet the two as they stepped out of the car.

“Hi Mikey.”

Peter snickered behind him while Mike flushed a bright red, nobody had called him Mikey since he was twelve years old. “Just Mike Uncle Ron, just Mike…how’re you doin?”

“Oh, can’t complain, 'sides wouldn’t do no good if I did.” Mike’s uncle laughed jovially, sending an affectionate slap to the back of Mike’s shoulder which in turn sent Mike stumbling forward a few steps. “Who’s your friend here?” Mike’s uncle then asked, turning a friendly smile on Peter.

“This is Peter.” Mike winced, rubbing a big hand over his shoulder and hoping his uncle wouldn’t give Peter the same welcome; his uncle didn’t know his own strength and he’d hate to have to try to untangle the blond from the branches of the nearby apple tree.

Uncle Ron extended his hand to Peter who shook it politely. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Nesmith”

The big man huffed out another laugh. “Uncle Ron boy, we don’t stand on no ceremony here.”

As the three men made their way into the house, Mike asked, “So how’s things goin’ here Uncle Ron?”

“Ah, it’s been hotter than a goats butt in a pepper patch.” Uncle Ron exclaimed, walking across the spacious kitchen to the refrigerator “The chickens have taken to layin’ hard boiled eggs.” He finished, as he opened the door and pulled out a couple bottles of soda pop and set them on the kitchen table in front of Mike and Peter as the two pulled out chairs and sat down.

Mike caught Peter’s wide eyed look and softly chuckled. Until now the only eggs Peter had seen were in the dairy isle of the local supermarket, so he could just imagine what was running through the blond's head right then.

After an hour of conversation during which Uncle Ron explained the running of the farm to Peter, at one point even bursting out in delighted laughter after getting a look at the dazed expression on Peter’s face, got up to go outside and feed the animals leaving Mike and Peter to finish their now luke warm soft drinks and rest up from their long journey.

“Your uncle certainly has a colorful way with words.” Peter grinned, looking at Mike.

Mike snorted. “Just wait till he really gets wound up.” He grabbed the now empty bottles and tossed them into the trash. “Com’on lets go see if we can find any of those hard boiled eggs.”

The chicken coop door opened with a soft creak as Mike stepped in followed closely by Peter. The dark red hens swiftly moved out of their way giving aggravated cackles as they did.

“These are Rhode Island Reds.” Mike exclaimed, walking to the opposite wall where three rows of wooden nests were secured to the wall.

“How did he get them all the way here?” Peter asked, looking down at the plump fowl.

“From where?” Mikes voice was slightly muffled as he reached inside one of the nests for a large brown egg.

“Rhode Island”

Mike rose up quickly nearly bumping his head on the bottom of a nest and gave Peter a shocked look. “What? Peter, Rhode Island Red is a breed of chicken.”

Peter grinned, mischievously. “Gotcha.”

Mike shook his head in exasperation, for a second he’d thought Peter’s childlike personality had gotten stuck in high gear.

“Peter, what am I going to do with ya?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Peter replied in a soft purr, giving Mike a look he knew the Texan wouldn’t be able to resist.

He was right……

Mike quickly looked around and seeing his uncle pitching hay to the horses through the small window in the coop, quickly wrapped a hand around the back of Peter’s neck, pulling him close. “Yeah, I’ll think of something all right.” He muttered, just before he crashed his lips to the blond's.

…Yep just what I thought, easier said than done…

Mike broke the kiss and stood for a moment gazing into Peter’s slightly glazed eyes, listening to the other man’s rapid breathing. Softly grazing his thumb along Peter’s jaw he then turned toward the door giving the chickens a stern shake of his finger.

“Not a peep”

One of the hens squawked loudly.

~*~

Later that evening after everyone had gone to bed, Peter lay on his back staring up at the fan that sent a cool breeze wafting through the moon lit bedroom. God, how he missed the warm comfort of Mike’s body next to his. He had gotten so used to lying curled up in the Texan's strong arms at night that the absence of his lovers’ warm skin against him left Peter with an empty, aching loneliness inside.

The bassist turned over onto his side, remembering the long look Mike had given him just before he had disappeared into his own bedroom. He tugged the spare pillow close to his chest, holding it tightly against him and wishing that Mike was there with him. Finally, the gentle constant whir of the fan's motor began to lull Peter’s senses and he started to drift off but the quiet opening and closing of the bedroom door jerked his eyes wide open again.

For the first time in his life, Mike almost regretted visiting the uncle that had been a huge part of his life growing up, hell the man had stepped in and had taken the lonely little boy under his wing after his dad had split. But, Mike mused; as much as he loved his uncle, no one could take Peter’s place. Mike got up and moved to the window, opening it to let some of the cool night air into the suddenly stuffy room. His arms felt strangely empty, missing Peter’s body wrapped within them. Mike sat back down on the bed again but couldn’t make himself lie down. He needed Peter, needed to feel the blond's steady heartbeat against the palm of his hand and the feeling of his head resting against his chest just like he always did night after night.

……man, Uncle Ron would bean me upside the head with a skillet if he ever found out….Mike stood and moved towards the door……but hot damn, it would sure be worth it…..

Peter turned onto his back just as Mike sat down on the edge of the bed; the mattress dipped a little with the weight of the Texan’s body as Peter sat up and wrapped his arms around Mike’s shoulders with a small sigh.

“I couldn’t stay away, didn’t feel right without ya there.” Mike whispered, wrapping his arms around Peter’s back and burying his face in the blond's freckled shoulder, breathing deeply as his lovers scent wrapped itself around him like a soft comforting blanket.

“It feels right now.” Peter whispered back, lying back against the pillow and pulling Mike down on top of him. Mike gave a low moan, at the same time capturing Peter’s lips in a deep, long kiss. Tongues leisurely explored each others mouths as Peter’s hands roamed freely along the hard contours of Mike’s back.

Peter gave a long breathy sigh as Mike’s mouth moved across his cheek, down his neck to his collar bone where he felt the Texans’ soft tongue flick across his skin. Mike slowly moved to the other side, exploring each tanned inch with his mouth and tongue before working his way back up Peter’s neck to the full, yielding lips again.

Without taking his lips off Peter’s, Mike scooted to his side and pulled the thin sheet over them. Peter turned onto his side and both men groaned at the feeling of twin erections sliding together. Mike ran the palm of his hand down the smooth skin of Peter’s side, across his quivering buttock and around to his front, finally wrapping his fingers around the huge erection, catching Peter’s gasp in his mouth.

Peter whimpered and thrust his leg over the Texan's waist as Mike’s hand slowly traveled up and down his hard length.

Mike grinned inwardly, feeling Peter’s body shudder with delight when he ran the pad of his thumb over the tip of Peter’s cock, spreading the pre come over the head.

Then it was Mike’s turn to feel his body react to the blond's talented touch as Peter wrapped his fingers around Mike’s throbbing erection. Two hands moved on separate members as both men fought to keep their rapidly mounting desire under control.

“Oh god, Michael.” Peter moaned, quietly.

“Sssshhh, we have to be…fuck Peter, that feels good… quiet.”

When Peter began to buck his hips against his, Mike began to lose what little self control he had left and he knew he had to get this over quickly before Peter let loose with one of his impassioned yells.

Both bodies twisted and bucked together, each seeking a release as their hips moved frantically against the others. Mike wrapped his fingers around both cocks, stroking in hard rapid movements. Peter clutched Mike’s shoulders hard, trying desperately to muffle his moans against the Texans neck.

“Come on babe, come for me.” Mike whispered in Peter’s ear and a second later felt the warm wetness of Peter’s release spread over his hand. That was all it took for Mike to follow Peter into no mans land as he gave one last hard thrust and added his own contribution to the sticky mess between their bodies.

The weariness of the long journey finally began to catch up to them and they fell asleep before their bodies had time to come down from the sexual high, still wrapped tightly in each others arms.

~*~

The crowing of a rooster seemingly right outside the window jerked Mike out of a deep sleep. Rolling over and dangling an arm over the side of the bed, his hand fell on a pillow that had fallen off the bed when he’d crawled back in just a few hours earlier. It had been hard to leave Peter’s side while the blond still slept but it would have been even harder to try to explain to his uncle why two grown men were sleeping in the same bed…buck naked at that. The rooster crowed again and Mike grabbed the pillow and sent it sailing toward the offending sound.

Thirty minutes later Mike walked into the kitchen, still buttoning up his shirt, to find his uncle and Peter sitting at the kitchen table, hot cups of coffee in front of them.

“Good morning Mike, sleep well?” Uncle Ron asked, getting up to set a filled cup on the table.

“Pretty good.” Mike answered, sitting down. “Morning Pete.”

“Good Morning, Michael…did you really sleep well?” Peter asked, his soft voice deceptively innocent.

Mike’s uncle turned and moved to the sink, preparing to make another pot of coffee.

“Yeah…once I got to sleep.” Mike concentrated on taking a drink out of his cup, not daring to look at Peter’s face, knowing that one look into those twinkling eyes would send his nether regions into full blown happy land.

……don’t look, don’t look…Mike cast a quick glance in Peter’s direction, the blond gave him a slow wink…ya jack ass I told ya not to look……Mike shifted uncomfortably as he felt himself starting to swell and sent a threatening look in the blonds direction again.

Peter wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

“You know, a funny thing happened a little while ago, a pillow flew out the window and nearly knocked ol’ Henry off the fence.” Mike’s uncle said over his shoulder, missing the increasingly heated looks tossed back and forth between the two younger men.

Mike was so busy staring at Peter’s mouth and thinking about the previous night’s activity that it took a slight nudge from his lover’s elbow to bring him back to reality. It was a moment before he remembered that Henry was the name his uncle had given the rooster and a slight flush crossed his face then, remembering the tossed pillow and the loud squawk.

“Oops, sorry bout that Uncle Ron.”

Uncle Ron turned to face Mike with a slight chuckle. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen that old bird run so fast in my life……cept’ maybe when he’s chasin’ the neighbors’ dog.”

Mike’s uncle began to laugh. “Funniest thing I ever saw, was that old rooster chasin’ the Miller’s bull dog across the pasture.” Uncle Ron opened the refrigerator door. “And you know, that dog ain’t been back here since.”

After a rather large breakfast of scrambled eggs, potatoes, ham (which Peter didn’t eat, being a vegetarian) and toast…and the second pot of coffee, Mike’s uncle announced he had to go into town for supplies and would leave the farm in the capable hands of Mike and Peter for the day. As the two began to gather up the morning dishes, Uncle Ron disappeared into the back room, returning just a minute later with his truck keys in hand. Before he left he gave the guys a stern warning to “watch out for Willy” exclaiming “that damned goat’ll knock you clear into next week if he gets a chance.”

The two finished washing the dishes and went outside to the garden. Mike immediately saw the ornery critter grazing on the lush grass near the chicken coop but thought that as long as they kept track of where he was they were safe. As soon as they reached the garden, Mike noticed that the ground around the leafy green plants looked a little dry and went in search of the water hose while Peter took care of the four rabbits in the nearby hutches.

Spying the coiled hose on the ground near the double barn doors Mike walked toward the barn, thoughts of what he’d like to do with Peter’s naked body taking precedence over his uncles warning.

Peter closed and latched the door on the last rabbit hutch and looked around for Mike, seeing him near the barn the blond began to walk in that direction just as Willy trotted around the corner of the barn. Unbeknownst to the Texan, the big goat had been watching him the whole time and when he saw that the dark haired man's attention was elsewhere slowly began to move in for the kill.

Peter’s eyes widened in alarm as the goat drew closer, the animals huge twisted horns glistened in the bright morning sunlight and his eyes gleamed with malicious intent. Peter began to walk faster as Willy continued to sneak up behind Mike, wondering how he was going to get Mike’s attention before the goat launched into full blown attack mode. Without a sound the goat shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on the enticing target of Mike’s ass.

Mike bent to pick the hose up just as Peter opened his mouth to shout out a warning, Willy reared up onto his hind legs.

“MICHAEL LOOK OU……”

…BAM…

Peter’s shouted warning came a split second too late as the goat charged and hit Mike.

Things suddenly seemed to move in slow motion for Mike as something hit his backside with the force of a freight train, launching him into the air. His arms made circles in the air like windmills, while his feet seemed to peddle an imaginary bicycle. He crashed to the ground as the goat, having completed his shenanigans for the day, trotted off.

Peter broke into a run and reached Mike just as the other stood up, slightly dazed from his ordeal. Placing a supportive arm around Mike’s waist he helped Mike into the coolness of the barn where the Texan leaned against the rough wooden wall.

“Damn goat.” Mike said, rubbing a hand across his bruised backside. “Shit, I ain’t gonna be able to sit for a week.”

“Let me look.” Peter said softly, reaching for the buckle of Mike’s belt. As gently as he could Peter pushed the denim pants to Mike’s knees and turned him around. Mike rested his forehead on the arm he had raised to the wall as Peter inspected his bruised flesh.

“Well, what’s my butt look like?” Mike asked, turning slightly to look down at the blond kneeling at his feet.

Peter, seeing that no serious harm had been done decided to make the most of the current positions he and Mike were in and cupped both buttocks in the palms of his hands.

“Ummmm…firm…round.” Peter’s hands began to move in slow circles.

Mike’s breath caught in his throat, Peter’s voice had suddenly become very deep and incredibly sexy and whatever it was he was doing with his hands was definitely sending smoke signals to his crotch. He nearly forgot why he was in this position in the first place when he felt Peter’s soft lips first on one buttock then the other.

“I think you may be in need of a little tender loving care, though.”

Mike’s entire body twitched as Peter ran his tongue through the crack in his ass then nearly went to his knees when he felt the warm tip of Peter‘s tongue flick over his tight opening.

“Oh, fuck.”

Mike’s fingernails dug into the soft wood of the barn wall and he couldn’t help but grind his ass into that hot mouth when Peter suddenly plunged his tongue past the tight ring.

All coherent thoughts were suddenly beyond reach as Peter began tongue fucking him with a fierceness Mike had never felt before.

Mike’s legs were trembling from the exertion of holding himself in that slightly bent over position when Peter finally rose to his feet. Pulling Mike’s body against him he reached around, unbuttoning Mike’s shirt. Giving the taller dark haired man a moment to catch his breath, Peter placed a kiss at the back of Mike’s neck as he pulled the shirt off his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. The bassist shed his own clothes in record time then leaned his shoulder against the wall while Mike stepped out of his pants.

“I’ve never been fucked in a barn before.” Peter said, giving Mike a teasing grin.

Mike stood for a few seconds just staring into Peter’s hazel brown eyes, he knew that what he was about to say would probably knock the blond for a loop but well…damn it, he trusted Peter, and he had to admit he had been giving this a lot of thought lately. He cupped Peter’s cheek in the palm of his hand and gently ran his thumb across the smooth skin for a few seconds without reacting to the blond's flirty comment. Peter saw the seriousness on Mike’s face and began to get a little worried; this wasn’t like Mike at all.

“How about a little change of pace?”

“What do you mean?” The uneasiness on Peter’s face was replaced with a look of slight confusion.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “You want me to…to…”

Peter was completely dumb founded; this was the last thing he’d ever expected Mike to say. He had assumed that since the other man had such a head strong, domineering personality that Mike would always be the one sticking it to him and to have Mike suddenly suggest this, right out of the blue, well…Peter didn’t quite know how to react.

Mike turned to face the wall once again. “Do it.” He said, placing both hands firmly on the wooden siding.

Peter’s shock was quickly replaced by a tremendous amount of happiness as a huge grin lit up his entire face. Mike knew then that he’d made the right decision and knew that Peter would do everything in his power to make Mike’s first time as enjoyable as possible.

Spying a bottle of baby oil sitting on a bench on the other side of the barn Peter walked over and retrieved it, making a mental note to ask Mike later why his uncle would have baby oil in the barn. Turning back he realized how nervous Mike was by the tenseness in the Texan’s body and knew he had to take this slowly.

Peter set the bottle on the ground and turned, standing up in the circle of Mike’s arms, leant his back on the wall and looked into Mike’s brown eyes.

“I love you, Michael.” Peter said quietly, this was no small thing for Peter to be able to give Mike this and he wanted Mike to know how much it meant to him.

“I know you do babe, I love you too.”

Placing both hands on Mike’s face Peter leaned in, softly kissing him at first then when he felt the Texan’s arms close around him, deepened the kiss, thrilled that Mike was letting him do this.

Mike groaned as Peter’s tongue swept past his lips and he opened his mouth wider allowing Peter to explore to his hearts content. This was something new to him, giving full control of his well being over to someone else, letting them decide what was going to happen…when it would happen…and how it would happen.

Peter’s hands began to trace the hard body in front of him, down Mike’s hair covered chest, around to his side and down his hips, firmly running his hands down the front of the guitar player's thighs as far as he could and back up again. Reaching round to Mike’s ass Peter tugged him forward, at the same time thrusting his own hips in a forward motion. Both men groaned as two hard cocks clashed together.

“God, Peter you’re driving me crazy.” Mike gasped, as Peter thrust his hips forward again. His hand shot down between their bodies.

“Good…oh!”

Peter felt Mike’s hand on him, stroking roughly, his eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back against the rough wall.

Mike tried hard not to think about the size of the cock in his hand, feeling Peter’s body shudder with each firm stroke but instead tried to think about the pleasure Peter would bring him even though he was sure it was going to hurt like hell at first, Mike briefly closed his eyes…that thought was just a little too intimating.

Peter opened his eyes to find Mike staring at him intently; giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Peter said, "Our safe word."

Mike nodded. “I know, but this ain’t my first rodeo shotgun.”

Peter chuckled. “It is when I’m in the saddle cowboy.”

Mike thought Peter sounded a just a tad too cocky and wondered if the blond was as good as he’d insinuated. Mike knew he’d find out in the next few minutes and decided that come hell or high water he wasn’t going to utter a word about sandpaper or anything close to it.

“Just watch where ya put those spurs ok?”

Peter grinned and slipped back out under his arm leaving Mike to stare at the wood paneling in front of him.

Peter thought about his first time with Mike as he applied some of the slippery oil to his erection. It had taken every ounce of his will power not to scream out the safe word and he knew that this was not going to be just a walk in the park for Mike. He poured a few drops of oil onto his fingers then replaced the cap and set the bottle back on the ground.

Mike leaned his forehead on the backs of his hands, tensing when he felt the first touch
of Peter’s fingers.

……jeez settle down man this is Peter, ya know he’s not……what the hell is he doin’ back there…I…oh fuck that feels good…

Mike softly moaned as the blond slowly began to work his finger past the tight muscle. Peter reached around to grasp Mike’s member which had lost some of its hardness due to the nervous tension in the taller mans body. With just a few teasing tugs Mike’s erection regained its stiffness and Peter grinned when Mike gave an exceptionally loud groan.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Shit yes.”

Mike’s head started to spin, the firm stroking motions of Peter’s hand on his cock and that finger erotically sliding in and out of his body almost had him begging for more. He was so lost in the rapturous feeling that it barely registered when Peter inserted the other finger.

After a few minutes, Peter began to scissor his fingers trying to prepare the Texan for what was to come, Mike moaned again and leaned a little closer toward the wall. Sensing that Mike was as ready as he would ever be, Peter gently removed his fingers.

Mike honestly tried to remain relaxed but when he felt something much larger replace Peter’s fingers at his entrance he felt the nervousness rear its ugly head again.

Peter soothingly ran his hands up and down Mike’s back. “You’ve got to relax or it’s going to hurt that much more.”

Mike nodded and tried to will his body to relax; concentrating on the dirt under his feet. When Peter gently began to push the head of his cock through the puckered ring he briefly wondered if he’d been a little addle-brained when he’d suggested Peter take control of the love making session this time. Mike felt himself stretching as Peter slowly gained entrance, the stretching turned into a burning pain as the head of Peter’s huge cock eased past the tight ring of muscle and Mike’s breath left with a whoosh, it felt like Peter was splitting him right down the middle.

Fingernails dug into the wood as Mike doggedly gritted his teeth against the pain but couldn’t stop a groan from slipping through…Peter stopped.

Gentle hands rubbed his hips while Mike raised his head, blinking back tears that were threatening to spill down his cheeks. He thought of the times when he’d fucked Peter, sometimes almost viciously and wondered how the hell the blond had ever gotten used to it.

“Breathe Michael, breathe deep and relax.”

A few seconds passed while Mike took several deep breaths trying to do as Peter instructed.

“Damn, now I know how a marshmallow feels.”

Peter started laughing at this and after a second Mike joined in, the laughter somewhat easing the tenseness of the moment.

“Oh, Michael.” Peter placed a kiss on the back of Mike’s shoulder. “That was the hard part, it gets better trust me, it gets so much better.”

Peter began to move again in a slow, gentle rhythm, each time pressing in a little further. God, Mike was so tight; the inner muscles of the Texans’ passage gripped him like a tight satin glove. He’d never felt anything quite like it before, sure he’d had sex with chicks but none of them had been virgins and Peter couldn’t help but give a breathy moan on an inward thrust.

In front of him Mike leaned his forehead on the back of his hands again and smiled in spite of the pain. Peter had given himself to Mike so many times in the past months, never once complaining of the sometimes rough treatment. As he heard Peter give another low moan behind him, Mike was suddenly glad he’d decided to switch places, that moan the blond had just uttered was a sound that Mike knew all too well. It was one of Peter’s oh god fuck me moans. That moan was what he concentrated on now…that moan had always gotten him so worked up, so hot to slide into Peter’s willing body…to feel his cock being sucked in and so deliciously ravaged…

“Oh fuck, you feel so good.” Peter‘s voice was ragged, breathless.

Mike blinked, now that was a tone he’d never heard in the blond's voice before, he glanced over his shoulder to find Peter’s dark, smoldering eyes looking back at him.

Peter felt the tension in the Texan’s body begin to drain.

“You like this Michael, me fucking you the way you fuck me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike moaned, turning to face the wall again.

“Do you know how good you make my cock feel, fucking this tight ass?” Peter whispered right in Mike’s ear at the same time giving a little wiggle of his hips on an upwards thrust.

…That did it…

“NNUGH, FUCK….FUCK ME PETER!”

Grasping Mike firmly by the waist with one hand and his shoulder with the other, Peter began to alternate between quick shallow thrusts and long deep slow ones making sure his cock brushed Mike’s prostate with each inward movement. Mike gasped again as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him. It was so intense he was fairly certain he’d melt into a puddle at Peter’s feet if the blond loosened his grip.

Sweat began to bead on Peter’s face and back as he leaned back to watch his cock disappear into Mike’s body again and again.

Recalling Mike’s reaction to his little hip shake moments before, Peter tried another tactic, rolling his hips side to side, then circles, still taking care to brush Mike’s prostate with each inward thrust, a move that had the Texan immediately melting against the wall.

Mike’s eyes rolled up into his head as Peter fucked him with that never-ending stream of erotic movements. Never could he have imagined that it would be like this…feel this good…. The only thought his muddled brain could grasp onto was, more….more….more.

“Oh god, don’t stop.”

The Texan’s gasping plea wrenched a deep groan out of Peter, who now had both hands locked onto Mike’s shoulders. He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Mike’s sweat slicked back, the sensuous, bone melting thrusts of his hips never slowing.

Then a few minutes later…

“M…Michael…gotta go faster…you feel too good.”

At Mike’s nod Peter quickly adjusted his strokes and stepped up the pace, the sound of flesh slapping flesh soon joined the sounds of drawn out groans and soft grunts. He felt that familiar tingle in his testicles then, the tingle that told him he was getting close.

….not yet, not yet……oh shit…..

One of the hands on Mike’s shoulders flew to his crotch, roughly grasping and jerking in time with Peter’s thrusts.

“Nnugh, Michael….I gonna come.” Peter managed to gasp out a warning as he thrust hard once and stiffened, draining himself into Mike’s tight ass. A few more hard jerks then Mike threw back his head and let out a deep groan painting the wall in front of him with his fluids.

As Peter backed away on trembling legs, Mike’s gave out and he dropped heavily to his knees, leaned his head against the wall, desperately trying to draw breath into his heaving lungs.

Peter pulled his pants next to the wall and sat down on them, trying to gauge Mike’s reaction as he brushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and tried to catch his own breath. Finally when Mike felt he could move he turned and sat on the pants legs that Peter had thoughtfully stretched out for him. He looked at Peter to find the blond regarding him steadily.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?”

“What, that it felt that good?”

Mike shook his head.

“No, that you were that good.”

~*~

Bright and early the next morning, Mike’s uncle stood next to the Monkeemobile as Mike and Peter put their suitcases in the backseat and got ready for the long trip home.

“You boys drive safe now.”

“We will Uncle Ron.” Mike answered, sliding in behind the wheel.

“Thanks for the fresh vegetables.” Peter said as he glanced in the backseat at the huge overflowing basket.

Uncle Ron waved as the car made a u- turn in the drive way and headed down the road, he turned and took a few steps toward the house then stopped, scratching his head.

“Danged if those two aren’t thicker than fleas on a hound dog.”