...Thomas made himself even more useful in the next days. He hoped Hank had told the truth. He wanted to make sure Hank kept misdirecting the fuzz. But he couldn’t help his temper.
He was out in the barn, working while wearing only his pants. The shirt was just too hot for July. He’d been pitching the hay they’d cut the week before into the loft, and the labor had raised a sweat. He was in a mood that day, wanting to hurt and work and stretch. When he was done, he was going to go up to the house, bend Hank over the table and fuck him until he yelled.
He had just paused for a drink when a hand on his shoulder startled him. He slammed the ladle upside the intruder’s head and shoved him up against the wall. For a moment, he was right back in the common cell, and the big guy he hated had designs on him.
He blinked and it was only Hank, breathing hard, his eyes huge behind his glasses as he stared down at the pitchfork Thomas had pressed to his throat. Sweat and well water rolled down the side of his face. A red streak on his cheek showed where Thomas had hit him with the ladle.
Hank turned the big eyes up to Thomas and whispered, “Please…”
Thomas let out the breath he was holding and threw the pitchfork aside. “It’s just you.”
“Yeah, just me.” Hank punctuated this with a nervous nod.
“You startled me. You shouldn’t do that.” Thomas liked the look of him this scared. It made him want to do bad things, to push Hank into acts that would humiliate and hurt and bring them both to shattering climax.
“I’m sorry.” The breathless sound of Hank’s voice tempted him. When he felt Hank’s hard cock pressed to his thigh, he gave in to the temptation. Hank shuddered under his hands, and this time his voice was almost pleading. “Thomas, I’m sorry.”
Thomas could hold back no longer and lunged in for a kiss. Hank opened right up to him, moaning as he shoved his tongue into Hank’s mouth.
“Down, now.” He grabbed Hank’s shoulders and shoved him toward the pile of hay. Hank went easily, shedding his clothing as he moved. He had the overalls unfastened, but Thomas yanked them right down and pushed him facedown into the hay.
Hank rolled over and scrambled to his knees. Without warning, he undid Thomas’s pants and sucked him in, trying not to choke on the size and suddenness of the movement.
“That’s right,” Thomas said. He stroked Hank’s hair, the first edge taken off his arousal. Hank made a pleased sound and ran his hands over Thomas’s belly. He liked the shivery sensation Hank’s hands sparked in him. “Such a good little cocksucker. Get me nice and wet for your ass.”
Hank looked up at him, giving him the big eyes, which seemed to swim behind his little glasses. The sucking turned slurpy and sloppy and wet as Hank obeyed the order.
“Oh, you like that idea.” Thomas chuckled to himself a little. He knew exactly what Hank liked best, and a firm hand made the farmer hotter than the hayloft at noon. “I thought you would. Yeah…” He fisted his hands in Hank’s hair, pulling him down more on his cock, making him suck more of it. Hank sent him the big eyes again and Thomas knew he wasn’t going to last more than a minute longer. “Turn over and let me see that ass.” He was being as crude as possible, wanting to see how far he could push Hank...