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By *wishes OP Man
2 days ago
Sheffield/Chesterfield area |
True story from my college days.
It was 1980 and the summer break from studies was close. After a wild night and a silly prank at work, I'd been "let go" from my job and needed new part time work to earn much needed cash to fund my fun and games in my free time.
Somehow I landed a job on a small farm in the village as a general hand.
The owner was called "The Colonel" by most people that knew him. He was in his '70s and had been some kind of hero in WW2. His right hand man on the farm was a chap who'd served with him in the army and had followed him into civilian life to work as his foreman. Jim was his name.
He was a little younger than the Colonel, but was still in his 60s I think. Both of them had the kind of complexion and skin that can only be gained from countless years of graft outdoors. They were both old school gents from a time lost to us now.
The first few days of work were pretty normal and a lot of fun. A bit of baling, learning to do metal prep and stick welding while repairing a trailer, looking after the small flock of sheep that were there, helping to tidy and rearrange bags of feed in the store, minor building repairs etc. I was a fit, lively young man at the time and no stranger to hard work, so had no trouble with the duties at all. They were both obviously happy with my contributions and openly praised me. It felt good to be a part of it.
About a week or so in to the job I was in the workshop at the side of the Colonel's very large house getting tools ready for the following day. This involved cleaning them thoroughly after the day's work, and oiling them to prevent any rust. They were both meticulous in their work and did nothing half heartedly. It gave them both an air of enormous competence, and projected a quiet confidence in themselves and their methods. All very impressive and powerful influences for a young man in his late teens. I was definitely impressed by them and admired their self assured manner and wisdom.
Putting the oil away in the old store cupboard after prepping the tools, I noticed a large wooden box at the back of the bottom shelf. Just out of curiosity I quickly lifted the lid expecting to see more oils or waxes, perhaps some cleaning cloths. What I saw instead was a dozen or so porn mags. Fiesta and Whitehouse were there, and others I can't remember.
What on earth! What an impact too. I was no stranger to porn and sex but it wasn't something that I would have connected to the two elderly men I was working with.
After a quick look over my shoulder to make sure no one was near I picked the top one off and had a quick flick through, getting instantly hard and horny. Turning the pages with one hand and rubbing my bulging cock through my shorts with the other, somehow I missed the sound of steps until the last moment, leaving me no chance of putting everything back before I was discovered.
I froze instead and hoped I could bluff it out somehow. Not a chance of it though.
"Put that down and stand still". Jim's voice was quiet but strong, and left no doubt about the power balance. I put the porn mag on the work bench next to me and waited with my back to him, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.
He walked in and picked the mag up, took one look at it then opened it, put it on the bench in front of me, and then looked directly at me.
"So you like this kind of thing?" The picture was of a woman with her legs wide open, exposing her very wet pussy to anyone that was interested.
I just managed to croak out some kind of response, but nothing articulate or meaningful.
"It's the end of a long day right now, so we will talk about this tomorrow after I've discussed it with the Colonel this evening. Off you go and be here sharp and timely in the morning."
"Yes Jim" was my only response, and I took off red faced and head bowed, walking my walk of shame across the yard to the long driveway, then out to the main road, for the short walk home.
How could I possibly go back there the next day after being caught like that?
I didn't want to lose my only source of money, and didn't want to lose the feeling of belonging to something good and different that I'd begun to experience there.
Overnight my mind was a tangled mess of shame, fear, pride and need.
By the next morning I had calmed down only just enough to be able to find the courage to walk back down to the Colonel's house and into the yard at the back where I met them both at the start of every day.
To be continued.
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This sounds good. 
