The gardener

The sun was beating down hard that summer in the countryside. I had rented a little rural house to escape the noise and find some peace. I was thirty-two, with a defined gym body and a curiosity that always pushed me further. What I didn’t expect was for that curiosity to end with my ass open in the middle of a vegetable garden.

The gardener was a man of about forty-five, with dark, weathered skin, powerful arms from carrying soil and crates, large rough hands. Several days’ worth of gray-flecked beard, a broad hairy chest, and a way of looking at me that made what he was thinking very clear. I saw him for the first time on the second day, when I went to buy fresh vegetables from him. He was wearing only an old pair of work pants. His eyes slowly moved down my tight T-shirt and short shorts, lingering on my legs and on the bulge showing there.

From then on I began visiting him almost daily. We talked about anything, but there was always tension underneath. One afternoon, while we were carrying a crate, his arm brushed mine and I felt electricity. That night I came thinking about those calloused hands opening me up.

A week later, walking along the paths around the big garden, I found him working shirtless. Sweat ran down his broad back. The smell of earth, man, and sun was thick. He invited me in. We walked between the furrows. He showed me the cucumber plants. He picked one especially long and thick, almost the size of a forearm, and handed it to me.

“Look at this one. Hard on the outside, juicy on the inside.”

I took it. It was warm. My cock jumped inside my shorts.

“And you?” I asked, looking him in the eyes. “Are you ripe too?”

Nothing more was needed. He grabbed me by the nape of the neck and kissed me hard, pushing his tongue in. His big hands moved down to squeeze my buttocks through the fabric. I moaned into his mouth. I was already rock hard.

He pushed me against the wooden table where he sorted the harvest. He lifted my shirt and sucked my nipples hungrily, biting just enough. I held his head, panting. He turned me around, pulled down my shorts and underwear in one motion. My ass was exposed. He knelt behind me and spread my buttocks. I felt his hot breath and then his thick tongue licking my hole mercilessly. He licked, sucked, pushed the tip inside, growling. He ate my ass for long minutes, leaving me soaked and open.

When he had me ready, he took the big cucumber. He rubbed it against my entrance, wetting it with saliva. He pressed.

“Breathe.”

He pushed slowly. The cucumber went in centimeter by centimeter, rigid and thick. I moaned loudly. I felt filled in a strange and delicious way. He moved it carefully, twisting it, fucking me with it. My cock dripped precum onto the dirt floor.

“Look at you… swallowing the cucumber like a slut,” he growled, aroused.

He slid it in and out for a good while,...