Kansas Corncob(s) – Part 30 (Patreon)

Everyone in this story is 18+

The truck rumbles down the dark country road. Kansas keeps both hands on the wheel, but his eyes keep flicking over to me every few seconds. The windows are down just enough to let the warm night air in. Fields stretch out on both sides, black and quiet under the stars.

I break the silence first.

“So… what do you think?”

Kansas is quiet for a moment. Then something soft and bright moves across his face, the kind of look he gets when he talks about the farm or a perfect sunrise over the north field.

“I think it sounds… really good,” he says. “Having you here. For real. Not just for the summer.” He glances at me again, then back at the road. “But this isn’t only about us, Jett. It’s your future. College is years. A lot can change in that time. Could you actually see yourself staying here? Living this kind of life?”

I watch the side of his face in the dashboard light. He looks nervous but honest.

“I feel very strongly about you,” he continues, voice lower. “I think… I think it’s love. But we’re still young. Things happen. I don’t want you making a huge decision just because of me and then regretting it later.”

The words settle between us. I reach over and rest my hand on his thigh. He covers it with his own after a second.

“I’m going to think about it,” I say. “But I’m going to contact Professor Ramirez and write the essay. It can’t hurt. I need options. NYU is basically gone. Everything else I had in mind is looking pretty shaky. I might as well apply. Even if Kansas State wasn’t what I pictured when I left New York.”

Kansas squeezes my hand. We drive the rest of the way in comfortable quiet.

When the farmhouse comes into view, the porch light is still on. Kansas parks the truck and kills the engine. We sit there for a moment in the dark driveway, neither of us reaching for the door yet.

I look over at him.

“We should tell Lori and Kent,” I say. “About the late admission thing. About me maybe staying.”

Kansas nods, a small smile pulling at his mouth.

“Yeah,” he says. “We should.”

We find Lori and Kent in the living room. Lori is folding laundry on the couch and Kent is half-asleep in his recliner with a farm magazine open on his lap. They both look up when we walk in.

Kansas clears his throat. “Ma. Pa. Can we talk for a second?”

That gets their full attention. Lori sets the laundry aside. Kent sits up straighter.

Kansas shifts his weight, then starts talking. “After the Prairie Rainbow meeting tonight, Daniel pulled Jett aside. He’s not just a professor. He’s the Dean of Student Affairs. He said Kansas State has a few late admission slots for special cases. He told Jett to reach out to Professor Ramirez, write a strong personal essay, and that the work with the group and everything else could actually count for something. He thinks Jett has a real chance if he wants it.”

His voice stays steady the whole way through, but I can hear the careful hope underneath every word. When he finishes he glances at me, then back at his parents, waiting.

Lori looks at me with that warm, direct expression she always gets when something important is happening.

“Well,” she says. “That sounds like a real opportunity.”

Kent nods slowly. “It does. And for what it’s worth, we’d be happy to write recommendations. We’re both alumni. The board still listens to old names sometimes. You’ve come a long way since you got here, Jett. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Lori is already shifting into planning mode. She leans forward, eyes bright.

“If this works out, we could furnish the little apartment above the barn. It’s not very big. Used to be for farmhands back before everything got so automated. It’s been sitting empty for years now. Just needs some TLC. Fresh paint, a proper bed, maybe a small kitchen setup. You’d have your own space but still be close.”

I stand there listening to them talk about recommendations and apartment renovations like it is the most natural thing in the world. My own parents would already be yelling about wasted potential and how I had thrown away every chance in New York. These two are mapping out a future for me like I already belong here.

Something tight in my chest loosens. I feel hopeful in a way that is almost unfamiliar. These people are not even my parents, and somehow they are treating my future with more care and belief than I usually get from the ones who are.

◆◆◆

Upstairs the air is still heavy with the day’s heat. I peel off my clothes one piece at a time and leave them in a pile on the floor. The sheets feel cool against bare skin when I climb into bed. I reach for the nightstand out of habit and my fingers close around the weed vape.

I stare at it for a long second. Then I set it on the floor and bring my heel down hard. Plastic cracks. The little device splits open under my foot. I grind it once more for good measure, then kick the broken pieces toward the wall.

For once I do not want to fuck this up.

A soft scraping sound comes from outside the window. I sit up. Kansas is crouched on the narrow porch roof that runs between our rooms, wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers. He looks a little sheepish and a little proud of himself at the same time.

I push the window open wider. “You’re going to fall and break your neck, farm boy.”

“Worth the risk,” he whispers, and swings one long leg over the sill.

He ends up sitting on the edge of my bed, knees almost touching mine. We talk in low voices about the late admission, about the apartment above the barn, about what it might actually feel like to stay. His eyes keep lighting up every time the idea of me being here longer comes up. Mine do too. The excitement sits warm and restless between us.

At some point the talking slows. Kansas leans in and kisses me, slow at first, then deeper. His hand slides down my stomach. When he pulls back he is already shifting lower on the bed.

He takes my rock hard cock into his mouth without any warning. The first long, wet slide of his tongue makes my head drop back against the pillow. He is messy about it in the best way, spit shining on his lips, soft wet sounds filling the quiet room as he works me deeper. One of his big hands wraps around the base he cannot fit, stroking in time with the pull of his mouth. I thread my fingers into his hair and just watch him, the way his eyes flick up to meet mine every so often like he needs to check I am still right there with him.

Pleasure builds fast and heavy in my balls. My hips twitch. Kansas stays with me through every small movement, sucking harder, tongue pressing along the underside until I shoot into his mouth with a choked sound, cum dancing across his tongue. He swallows most of it, then licks the rest from the head with slow, careful passes before finally pulling off.

I reach for him, already trying to push him onto his back so I can return the favor. He catches my wrist gently and shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” he whisper. “This whole day has been about you. I’m good. Just… stay like this.”

He stretches out beside me on the narrow bed. I turn into him, naked skin against the warm plane of his chest. His arm settles heavy and secure around my waist. The broken vape lies forgotten on the floor. Outside the window the porch roof is quiet again.

We fall asleep tangled together, the future feeling a little less impossible than it did that morning.