This is the fourth installment of 26.
"Rise and shine, boy. Breakfast is ready, and those watermelons are too," I said as I shook his shoulder. He sat up, stretched his arms over his head, and looked around as if he was lost.
"What time is it?" he asked as he yawned and stretched again.
"Time to get up, boy. You go take a piss and put those overalls on. I got you a pair of clean socks in the tent layin' on top of your bag. Now you git."
He stood up, pulling the sheet up with him, wrapped around his shoulders and trailing on the ground as he walked to the edge of the woodpile to pee. As he stood and adjusted his "wrap" so he could hold it with one hand and his dick with the other, I caught a glimpse of a pink buttcheek peekin' out from a gap in the sheet.
I finished putting the grits on our plates and as I was scrapimg the eggs out of the pan I heard a distictive "OW!". I turned as he was twisting around in an attempt to look at his butt. He tugged on the sheet to raise it high enough to see the cause of the pain he'd felt, and I began to smile. He glanced in my direction and said, "my butt hurts. It's got marks, and it hurts." I just nodded my head and he crouched and slowly waddled into the tent.
As I sat the plates down on the blanket, he came out with his clothes in his hands. I placed a pillow in the chair and said, "sit down and get dressed so we can eat." He put his socks on, and stepped into the overalls.
He stood up, and as he pulled the overalls up, he winced and looked in my direction before attempting again to pull the tight denim over his sore cheeks. "Cowboy, can I just stay nekkid today? My butt is too sore to wear these things!" he complained as he dropped the overalls to his ankles and grabbed his butt with both hands.
I walked over to him, standing behind him, reached down and pulled the overalls up to his butt. Then I reached around the front and held them at the waist and also held the waist at the back, pulling them out away from his tender cheeks as I raised them over his hips. I placed each strap over his shoulders, and moved in front of him and proceeded to tug the bib up to fasten the straps into place. He winced again, and spread his legs as he bent his knees slightly. "They're too tight," he said. "They're gonna rub my butt, sir. I need some boxers or something, I think."
I fastened one hook, and then tugged again, causing the crotch to ride up tight against his groin, as the butt-seam pulled snugly into his crack. He squinted hard, and breathed in deep as I fastened the second clasp. "You can leave the buttons on the sides open," I said as I turned him around to look at the fit. "Now you put those boots on so we can eat before the eggs get cold, boy."
He slowly, painfully bent down to get his boots, and I reached out and popped his butt with my hand. He jumped straight up off the ground and turned and gave me a bewildered look. "Why is your ass in the condition it's in today, boy? Do you remember, son?" I asked.
"YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR," he repeated loudly as he hopped onto the blanket, sat down sideways and began to put his boots on. He tugged one on and then he laid back on his back. I crawled to his feet and put his other boot on and tied the laces for him. "Thank you, sir," he said. " These things rub my butt every time I move." He rolled to his side, and stiffly pushed himself into a standing position. "Will it be O K if I eat my breakfast up here, sir?" he asked, with a slight dimple beginning to appear in his cheeks
"That's fine, son," I laughed as I handed him his plate. After we finished eating, which took him all of about two minutes, I told him to take the dishes to the creek and wash them while I got the campsite closed up and then we'd go get my truck.
He was back before I finished, so I told him to walk over to the barn and bring my truck up to the gate. He left, and I headed to the gate to unlock it. I watched as he hopped across the rocks in the creek. Then, as I turned to head up the path to the gate I heard a loud "SPLASH." There was no doubt in my mind what that meant, and I stood for a minute looking in that direction, but he didn't come back, so I started for the gate again, smiling as I went.
I was still smiling as he pulled up to the gate just as I approached it. I opened it, and he drove thru. I closed and locked the gate, and then I hopped into the bed of the truck and motioned for him to "go", and he slowly drove toward the watermelon patch.
"Park in the shade over there." I said as I jumped from the truck and motioned toward an old chinaberry tree. I walked out into the patch of watermelons and assessed our days work. I reached down and lifted a large melon. It was ready to pick, so I cut the stem and raised it onto my shoulder and headed for the creek.
I met Jeffery as I was walking, and sure enough, he had mud all over both legs of his overalls, and they were also pretty wet up to the crotch. "You take this watermelon down to the creek and lay it in the water so it'll get cool, and you rinse those overalls off while you're there, son," I said.
"You want me to take 'em off, sir?" he asked, smiling at me in that _c_o_c_k_y way a 15 year old boy seems to excell at.
"Hell, NO boy. You git 'em soakin' wet all over, and rinsed off real good and then you bring your ass right back up here. You're gonna wear 'em wet, boy. Is THAT CLEAR?" I sternly said.
"YESSIR," he answered, and the smile vanished as he headed off again to the creek. I had already cut about 20 watermelons when he came back, wet from head to toe, boots and all.
"I'm cuttin' 'em off and you take each one I've cut and lay 'em out in the shade over there so we can load 'em on the truck. It won't take us long if we work, son," I said, not slowing down but continuing to cut the stems. I knew he had the hardest job, but he was young, and strong, and ready to work.
As I was cutting, I could hear him grunting and groaning and mumbling under his breath. After about five minutes of this I asked, "What's the problem, son?"
He stood up and said loudly, "These thangs sure do rub. Every time I bend down to pick up a watermelon, they rub my butt, and it hurts."
"I tell you what, son. From now on, every time it hurts, instead of gruntin' and groanin' and mumbling under your breath, I wanna hear you say out loud 'YESSIR'. That'll help you remember just exactly WHY it hurts then, won't it boy?"
The "YESSIR" I heard in response was the first in a long chain of 'em that I heard repeatedly over the next two hours. I did notice, however, that as time passed, they got a little softer, and less deliberate in their delivery. As a matter of fact, they were coming in almost a sing-song fashion now, and as I worked my way down the third row of melons, I came along side the row Jeffery was hauling from. He walked over next to me, bent down and picked up a melon and cheerfully said "YESSIR" directly to me as he stood up, placed the melon on his shoulder and headed to the side. As he walked past me, I noticed the deep dimple in his cheek. As he stepped over the rows of melons, I noticed his step was spry and not labored. As he returned to get another melon, I noticed the thing that made me stare in amazement. That was the bulge in the crotch of his tight, damp overalls. The boy had a hard-on. _d_a_m_n_. Youthful lust was incessant
"Breaktime!" I yelled aloud, as I arose from my crouched position and headed for the creek.
A very loud "YESSIR!" came from behind me, followed by, "LAST ONE IN'S A ROTTEN WATERMELON!" as the boy sprinted past me like a colt headed down the home stretch.
I made no attemp to run. It was entirely too hot, and I was entirely too tired. I had gotten maybe an hour of sleep last night. I walked leisurely as I pulled my t-shirt over my head and began to unbuckle my belt. I heard a "SPLASH" and knew I was the rotten watermelon.
I stopped on the creekbank and hung my shirt on a limb as I began to remove my boots and socks. I looked in the creek as I stepped out of my jeans, and noticed Jeffery sprawled out in the creek on his belly, legs spread out wide, and his arms were clutching something into his sides. I stepped into the creek, and just as I reached down to adjust my dick in my underwear, Jeffery turned and looked at me and said, " I guess I screwed up and busted it, sir." He then rolled over and sat up, holding a piece of watermelon in each hand.
"Looks like you've got your hands full, boy," I said as I laughed.
His dimples became deeper than I'd ever seen them as he grinned and said, "You too, sir." Then I realized, I still hand my hand down my pants, wrapped tightly around the base of my half hard _c_o_c_k_.
I walked out into the water, sat down and picked up a large piece of the busted watermelon that was floating near the bank. I slid over next to him, and shifted so my legs were stradding his. I raised the watermelon up in front of his face and said in as serious a voice as I could, "Son, you know what this means?"
"Nosir," he said very softly, the expression on his face changing into one of despair.
"Well, son," I said as I raised up onto my knees. "This means..." I continued seriously as I held the piece of melon in front of his face, " that it's time for.." I threatened as I reached behind him and cupped the back of his head in my hand, " A WATERMRELON BATH!" I shouted as I pulled his head forward and pushed the juicy, slimy watermelon directly into his face.
I rubbed it into his face for a second before releasing him and he fell backwards sputtering and wiping his face desparately trying to get the mess off. Then he opened his eyes and began to laugh hysterically. Then he grabbed for me, and knocked me down on my side and before I could recover, he was sitting on my chest and rubbing watermelon into my face. I opened my mouth and said, "_d_a_m_n_, boy. That's one fine tastin' watermelon."
We laughed and wrestled and smashed watermelon in each others faces for the next minute or so . Then he sat up and said, "Cowboy, sir. I need to take a _s_h_i_t_."
"Take off them overalls, son. Hang 'em on the tree limb and then go over there to that rock and squat down on it with your ass hangin' over the water. That's the "_s_h_i_t_TIN' ROCK. The current'll wash it on down the creek."
"Yessir," he replied, and headed off. I watched as he did it exactly as I had directed. I distictly heard three solid 'PLOPS', and saw him turn and watch them float down the creek. He looked up at me and asked," How do I wipe, sir?"
"You don't, son. You WASH. Just squat down so your ass is in the water, and use your finger and clean out your crack in the water," I answered with a smile.
"My FINGER?" he questioned, as he raised his finger in front of him and looked at it.
"Yep, unless you want me to use MINE!" I said, grinning, and holding it up as if shootin' him a bird.
He laughed and said, "That's O K, sir. I'll use mine," returning the gesture.
He slid off the rock and raised up into a squatting position, legs spread far apart. He raised up so just his boysack and hole were in the water, his dick sorta floatin' on the surface of the water.
I shifted slightly and readjusted my dick as it began to grow hard, motivated by the vision in my head of my finger workin' into his boyhole. Then my thoughts were replaced with the vision before my eyes. As he reached around and under his butt with his finger curled into a probing position, his boydick started to levitate off the water, and within a few seconds it was standing up at an angle, wagging and throbbing as his arm tensed and his finger found it's target and did the job required.
He took longer than necessary, but I suppose he was just being thorough, and wanted to be sure he was clean before he finished. My _c_o_c_k_ was throbbing as it pulsed with my rapid heartbeat. He was gyrating his pelvis slightly, and I began to think this boy might have found a new thrill for his _s_e_x_ual escapades when he suddenly lunged forward, sprawling onto his belly and crab-walked himself back to me with his hand.
He stopped between my legs when his chin was directly in front of my crotch, which I was covering with both hands in the hopes of hiding my erection. "Everything come out allright?" I asked with a smile.
"Yessir," he answered, then in a softer tone he added, "It felt...kinda....good." Our eyes met for approximately 5 second, and then all at once he lunged forward, shoving a piece of watermelon into my face, knocking me flat on my back, and he landing directly on top of me.
For a few seconds we laid there, our hard dicks pressed solidly against each other. He began to move his hips slightly. I knew this was a situation I needed to get out of quickly, and I reached down to my side, scooped sand into each hand and brought them around him and began to briskly rub the sand into his buttcheeks. He was up and out of that creek in less than a second, both hands clutchin' his butt tryin' to rub the sting away.
"What's the matter, boy? That hurt?" I asked with a smirk.
"YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR, YESSIR," he sang as he did a little indian dance holding his buttcheeks in his hands, his dimples deep as the creek he'd jump from.
This boy was a hoot and a half, and he was rapidly stealing this old cowboy's heart.