A SUMMER IN THE FARM PART II (Patreon)

JUST FOR YOU, JEM

After the so-called “midnight snack”—which had somehow turned into a full-blown meal Kyle had devoured, hand-fed by Jeremy under his soothing care—the next afternoon found the two of them sprawled across stacked hay bales under the cool shade of a large oak tree out behind the barn.

They remained still and silent, as if caught in the sleepy hush that settles over everything during the hottest hours of a summer day—when even nature seems to doze off.

Jeremy’s head rested on Kyle’s chest, nestled beneath the protective curve of his arm wrapped around Jeremy’s narrow shoulders, the other bent behind Kyle’s head in total ease. Kyle took a deep breath and let it out in a long, quiet sigh. Jeremy shifted slightly, nuzzling closer, pressing his cheek beneath the ribbed tank into the fat-padded bulk of Kyle’s beefy pec, where it fit just right.

Kyle’s phone started ringing in his overalls pocket, whose top was thrown down with its straps dangling loosely over his legs. He carefully moved his hand under his head to pull out his cell and check the screen. Just one of many chicks in his rotation—One of the less squeamish in bed. Kyle just swiped left with his thumb and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“All good?” Jeremy murmured as Kyle settled back with his arm tucked behind his nape.

Kyle just let out a quite nasal huff

Jeremy chuckled, “One of your ‘crazy’ girls?”

Kyle just shrugged, “Yeah …”

Without lifting his head, Jeremy asked, ”What do you mean when you say those girls are crazy? Hehe”

Kyle took a few seconds before answering, staring at the blue sky above, glimpsed through the still leaves of the oak tree over them. “Because they are, Jem… They say they want a good guy who loves them for who they are. A guy who won’t just treat them well to get sex from them.” He let out a dry breath, “Talking like they’re not into games. Like they’re special. But then they all start dropping hints they wanna sleep with you, and when you make a move and don't let yourself get tied down afterward, suddenly you're the bad guy. And yet… they keep chasing you, going all out in bed trying to make you fall for 'em, expecting you'll catch feelings and stick around. They say one thing. Then they do the exact opposite.” Kyle quietly shook his head and concluded, “Chicks are crazy as hell.”

Jeremy smiled softly on his chest, “Well … I don´t think they're really that crazy.”

“You don´t, Jem? Then what?”

“I mean … think about it,” Jeremy went on, his voice calm and unhurried. “You’re handsome. One of the tallest and strongest guys around. But you´re always yourself. You´re not afraid to joke around, to be funny and cheerful … even though people expect someone with your look to stick to that tough-guy, alpha script. You´re tough when the situation calls for it, but you know what I mean.”

Kyle hummed in agreement, prompting him to go on.

“So of course”, Jeremy said gently, “girls look at you and think, that´s the one, the hottie who´s gonna treat me like I matter. Be sweet and nice to me. Like I´m special.” 

Jeremy paused, choosing his words carefully.

“They don’t just want any guy to be nice to them. They want the guy other girls are already looking at—the tall, strong, handsome one. The guy with options. Because it’s not just about finding a nice guy… It’s about being chosen by someone who could have anyone and still chooses to be nice to her. And the truth is… you’re not exactly short on options yourself. So maybe the real question for any girl interested in you is: what would make her special enough for you to choose her?”

Kyle swallowed and went quiet. Not because he didn´t have an answer, but because he did: that special person would be someone who doesn’t just tolerate his jokes, but joins in and finds the fun with him. Someone who gives him peace without sinking him into a rut. Someone who admires him without restraint, while not expecting in exchange to secure him. Someone who trusts him without trying to possess him. Someone he chooses to stay with feels effortless, not imposed.

Kyle tightened his jaw. Someone who didn’t just like that he was big and strong—but who shared in it, who marveled at it. Watching him crush heavy lifts, making sure he ate like a beast, dwelling on the raw effort and strength it took. Someone whose adoration didn’t just reflect his surpassing virility but also boosted it. Someone who made him feel unstoppable, like the strongest man in the world—and someone he wanted to protect in return.

Jeremy’s head rested against his chest, heavier somehow, carrying a new weight for Kyle. A strange vulnerability fluttered inside him—One no girl had ever managed to reach. He felt as if Jeremy were wandering through his heart and mind with ease, reaching every corner without even trying. Jeremy—the same boy who had made him feel like the strongest man in the world—now made him feel vulnerable and exposed.

Kyle´s throat went dry. His mind raced fast—too fast—cutting off the thought before it could fully form or before Jeremy could ask it more directly. He swallowed and muttered, trying to sound unconcerned, “Anyway… don´t overthink girls’ crazy stuff, man. You´re gonna fry your brain. It´s starting to smell burnt. Hehe”

Jeremy just chuckled back.

Kyle leaned his face closer to Jeremy’s forehead. “Anyway, everything’s fine, Jem.” His voice was warm for his friend. “Enough of bullshit. Wait till I hit the gym later—gonna push every muscle hard so you can see me all pumped up as fuck. Let’s see what all that food you made me eat last night does, huh?"

Jeremy laughed softly as he patted Kyle´s stomach, “Three big butches of muffins, a whole pumpkin loaf, cookies … all with Jam, honey, cheese cream … ”, then he added, “That’s some serious extra fuel, haha— it's gonna show up in your muscles!”

Kyle’s smile widened as he tilted his head toward Jeremy and whispered, “Looks like we’re gonna have the gym all to ourselves so that I can train my way for you, and you don’t miss a single detail.”

At that very moment, Jeremy’s eyes followed Kyle’s hand gliding slowly down to his waist. Thump slipping just beneath the waistband of his pants. With a confident tug down, Jeremy’s drowsy eyes opened wider, catching what lay beneath. A snug dark blue thong hugged Kyle’s hips tightly. The stretched waistband pressing firmly against his lower back and dipping low at the front. 

Jeremy stared at the thong stripe, and didn’t dare to ask if Kyle actually meant to train wearing just that — but the thought alone made his cheeks flush and his heart race. Jeremy only managed to mumble, “W-What about Mark?”

Kyle grinned and whispered, “Don’t worry, you’re gettin’ the full muscle show all to yourself. I’ll talk Mark into thinkin’ he needs a double cardio run. You’ll see—gonna have you laughin’ your ass off.” 

When Jeremy looked up at Kyle’s face, he found his blue eyes sparkling with that intense energy—thrumming between raw, virile sensuality and wild playfulness. 

***

When Mark came back from his jog, he found Kyle and Jeremy sitting on the hay bales as usual, lounging in the shade. As he walked the last few steps toward them, wiping sweat from his brow and catching his breath, he called out, “Ok, Kyle! Gonna change real quick, and we'll hit the gym!”

Kyle threw a sneaky wink at Jeremy before casually turning to Mark, “Back already? Thought you were on that stay-shredded grind!”

Mark’s eyes narrowed just a bit, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as he shot back, “What do you mean, man? I’m still shredded. I´ve been jogging every day!”

Kyle moved his hand down and gave the hem of Mark’s T-shirt a few playful tugs, “That’s not enough, man. This doesn’t even cover your belly anymore.”

Mark reached down to pinch the bare skin above his waistband, checking it, and snapped back. “Less than two fingers! Nothing’s getting outta control!”

Kyle stood up, grabbed the bottom of Mark’s T-shirt, and pulled it up, uncovering his stomach, “Ooooh damn, bro! What happened to that six-pack?”, he asked with a teasing surprise tone. Then he turned to Jeremy, “Jem, how many squares do you count here?”

Jeremy leaned forward slightly, pushed his glasses up, and squinted as Mark tightened his abs. Then he answered, sounding a bit unsure, "One... two... not so clear, huh?"

Mark answered as he ran his hand up and down over his stomach, “Get those glasses checked, Jem! Still got definition.”

Kyle insisted and grabbed Mark’s sides with both hands, giving them a playful squeeze. “Well, well… looks like Bertha’s cookin’ is finally payin’ off in these nice love handles here! Headin’ down the same road as that dude from your gym. Jake, wasn’t it? The one you said started blowin’ up like a damn hog.” 

Mark yanked down his shirt abruptly and snapped, “Are you tryin’ to piss me off again, asshole?!”

Kyle grinned unfazed, “Relax, bro! I mean, you look great; actually, you´re right at the spot to turn all those extra pounds into a solid bulk with a good lift. Ready to fill out that tee for real. You’re finally startin’ to look like a real man. Like me!”

Kyle lifted his own white ribbed white tank above his chest, then grabbed Mark’s T-shirt and yanked it up again. Turning to Jeremy with a wide grin, he said, “Look at that, Jem! Juicy, chunky pecs right here—and look at these thick, bowed-out bellies! Damn, you lucky bastard… not just one bulky dude for you, but one more in the makin’!”

Mark yanked his shirt back down with a sharp tug, "You can keep your 'bulking phase, Kyle!” his voice laced with pride and heat, “I’m not about that. I stay cut. I'm not tryna look like a damn bloated powerlifter. I’m out—gonna run this off before it even settles!”

As Mark turned and started jogging off again, Kyle called out, “Heyyy, you can’t let Jem down like that, man!

Mark briefly turned around while still running as he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Fuck you guys!”, and disappeared down the yard up the lane that leads into the pine woods surrounding the farm.

Kyle turned to Jeremy, who was chuckling, and said, “Don’t worry, Jem; I’ll make it up to you.” He threw him a confident wink and added, “I’m gonna give these muscles a hard pump — blow ’em up huge just to blow you away for real!”

***

Jeremy sat on a wooden box, eyes fixed as Kyle loaded the bar onto the press bench with heavy clanks. With every bumping step between the bench and the weight tree, Kyle´s trunk-like thighs rode his gym shorts higher, unable to wrap around with ease. Same effect on his arms. The white stripes along his short sleeves distorting and bunching as his guns visibly bulged with every maneuver to set the plates on the bar.

Kyle lay back on the bench for the first set—a weight most gym bros would only dare at final reps—Jeremy was already picturing it—how his big buddy’s build would look in those already stretched to the limit fabric once fully pumped.

When Kyle loaded the last disc for the final set, Jeremy met his confident gaze. “First time I try that weight on pecs. Just for you, Jem!” he said, briefly gesturing toward the bar with ease. His grin demanded prize without words.

Jeremy´s eyes widened in silence as he sized up the fully loaded bar. Each end stacked with the heaviest iron wheels. One solid whole, still, and unyielding, “wooow, Kyle … if you can lift that, you could lift a train’s axle!”

Kyle let out a couple of guffaws, feeling both flattered and amused. He just strolled over to the bench and dropped back onto it. Jeremy just stared in silence. His heart racing as Kyle shifted and tapped the bar to check the best grip. A couple of deep breaths, and Kyle roared, heaving the bar all the way up. Each rep with every massive disc forgiving not an ounce, til Kyle forced them to hover over his head with his arms fully extended. The following ones flowed til Kyle topped off the final rep with a roar, fearlessly hoisting the bar and its 240 pounds onto the racks with a resounding clank that bounced off the barn walls from end to end. 

Kyle pushed himself up and stepped right in front of Jeremy, still sitting on the wooden box,  “So how about that, Jem?” His eyes locked on his little buddy, well aware of the effect his blown-up chest was having on him.

“Wooo … so strong, Kyle! You did it!”

Kyle noticed Jeremy’s gaze wandering from his fully pumped pecs down to his now fully exposed golden happy trail. The buff boy’s hand drifted casually toward his midsection. His fingers brushing over his stomach as if checking how much the fabric had ridden up.

“Damn, nothing like lifting a train axle for a good pump, right, Jem?!” Kyle said, rubbing the strip of bare skin where the fabric had crept up from his waistband. “This thing’s riding up like hell!”

Kyle stepped closer and turned sideways, puffing his bulging pecs out even more to enhance the shrinking effect it had on his T-shirt. His eyes locked on Jeremy, sparking with anticipation of his reaction.

Jeremy tugged at the hem with a crooked smile. “I’ve never seen this one so tight on you!” The fabric, stretched tight across Kyle’s chest, didn’t give an inch.

With a couple of eager yanks, Kyle pinned the hem right under his jaw. “That extra meal you fed me is doing its job already, man!” His pecs, so well engorged with pump and pride, now on full display for his buddy. “Huge fucking cheat meals, beast fucking lifts, big fucking pumps. That’s what we’re talking about, Jem!” Kyle topped it off with his pecs bobbing like two buoys in a churning sea. Jeremy let out a breathy laugh, his eyes roaming over them.

Kyle dropped to his knees and raised his arms, “Take my T-shirt off.”

Jeremy extended his arms to grab the hem of the shirt, stuck on Kyle’s broad lats, reaching with the respectful slowness that Kyle’s massive torso so close imposed.

Once the shirt cleared his head, he tossed it aside onto a hay bale. Then Kyle stood up and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his gym shorts, right at Jeremy´s eye level. With a cocky wink, he murmured, “Now the real show starts, Jem.”

Kyle slowly bent over, lowering his shorts. His blue eyes locked onto Jeremy´s stunned ones, all the way down to his ankles. Jeremy’s disbelieving gaze bounced between the open barn door behind Kyle and the broad spread of his back, widening as he bent deeper, working the shorts down past his sneakers.

Kyle straightened, unfolding his full height with a casual roll of his cannonball shoulders—like a superhero gearing up for action: strong arms naturally flaring over his protruding lats. His pecs pushed upward, imposing. Below them, his thick midsection tucked in slightly, its well-settled layers of fat accentuating just the right curves.

Kyle playfully ran his fingers along the tight waistband of his thong.“I don’t want you to miss a single inch of these muscles and this belly, Jem.” He topped it off with a quick snap of the straps against his skin, flashing a teasing grin before turning away. Then he strolled over to the dumbbell rack and grabbed a pair, rolling his shoulders as if nothing had happened. Moving through the classics—curls, presses, flyes, rows—he handled weights that would crush most guys at their limit… like it was just a warm-up.

When Kyle set the dumbbells back on the rack and gave them a casual tap, he said, “Alright, Jem… now the tough work begins.” He pointed toward the row of heavier weights. “Choose for me. Shoulders are up next.”

“Oh… that one,” Jeremy said, nodding toward the heaviest pair.

Kyle’s eyebrows shot up in playful surprise as he turned to him. “You wanna push your big boy to the limit, huh?”

Jeremy just gave a small, tight-lipped smile and nodded, “You can lift them, Kyle!”

Kyle smirked. “Never lifted these for shoulders before… but after how well you fed me last night, I can’t say no to you, man.”

Kyle grabbed the dumbbell Jeremy had chosen, then smoothly picked up its pair from the rack. Kyle stepped closer in two confident strides, right in front of Jeremy, still sitting on the wooden box, so close that Kyle´s head seemed to sprout from between his beefy pecs. 

He swung with a grunt one dumbbell up onto his shoulder, and another grunt as he hoisted the second one. He bent his knees slightly, bracing himself for the lift. He heaved the weights up just a bit—then they sank back down. A deep breath to force a second try. Arms trembling, air stuck in his puffed-up cheeks as he grunted and tried to push up. Wide eyes locked on Jeremy—yet the dumbbells didn’t budge.

Jeremy gave a calm smile. “I like to imagine you as Thor, lifting a giant´s boot so he can´t squash me.” his tone filled with fascination.

Lightning of alpha drive flared in Kyle’s blue eyes, and he unleashed a thunderous roar that didn’t break until the dumbbells—going up slowly in his trembling arms, but steady—were held high above his head, aimed at the ceiling.

“I knew you could! You´re so strong, Kyle!”

Kyle shook his head between his wide, muscular arms. “Not yet,” he growled, holding the dumbbells. “It´s not over yet!” And before Jeremy’s stunned eyes, Kyle didn’t stop after eight more reps. He flowed straight into triceps work with the same weights, then back into shoulders again—no rest in between—stringing the sets together.

Jeremy’s eyes stayed openly fixed on Kyle’s fat-coated abs, bulging and contouring with each rep: on the lift, with a strained grunt, his navel sank deep, cinching the mass inward into a double bow; on the drop, dragging in a deep, filling breath, his whole midsection swelled into one firm, rounded dome—so close it nearly brushed Jeremy’s face—yet Jeremy didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, too drawn in, too taken by the sight to miss a single second of it.

After the final rep, Kyle dropped onto one knee, slamming the dumbbells into the floor with a resounding crash that made Jeremy shrink back in awe. After the impact faded away, bouncing from wall to wall, all that remained were Kyle’s heavy, ragged breaths—His eyes, locked on Jeremy, eager for his approval.

“W—woah… you didn’t even stop…”, Jeremy still staring at Kyle’s muscles, “You just kept going… that’s… that’s insane…”

Kyle, still gasping, ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead. “Huff… that’s it, Jem—big… guh… big fucking cheat meals… every day… and pushing like a draft horse… just grinding it up…” He sucked in a deep breath, chest still heaving, a faint grin breaking through. “Now it´s time for back,” his eyes locked onto Jeremy’s, breath catching for a split second, “ and then you get the full show… every muscle pumped as hell.”

After a couple of sets on the lat pulldown machine—every plate stacked—Kyle had Jeremy bring over a pair of dumbbells to hook onto the stack as extra weight. Jeremy hauled them one by one, both arms wrapped around each, barely managing the load as he carried them across.

Kyle took them and set them in place with ease, then pulled—slow, heavy, controlled—the entire mass rising under his force alone.

A few more reps like that, Jeremy standing close, watching the stark contrast between what he had struggled to carry… and what Kyle now moved as just more resistance to overcome.

When Kyle finished, he stood, turned toward Jeremy, and gently but firmly took him by the shoulders, guiding him down onto the bench. A grin spread across his face as he got ready to start his muscle show.

Kyle turned around. “Look at this back, Jem,” he grunted as he landed one fist on his side, then the other. His elbows flared all the way out as his dorsals spread wider and wider, pushing outward until his back seemed to double in size. Holding that width, Kyle gave a couple of short, heavy bounces. He turned his head as far as the stretch of his widened back would allow, his neck straining to catch Jeremy in the corner of his vision. “How about that, Jem?” he asked. His blue eye burning bright over the rise of his trap like a star over a mountain.

“Jesus…” Jeremy breathed out, his head shifting from side to side, trying to take in the sheer bulwark Kyle had unfolded between his shoulders. His gaze tracing the thick, rising shapes that bulged out beneath the skin, “Man … that back of yours looks so big and solid—it´s like someone could smash a chair over it and you wouldn´t even notice.”

Kyle let his arms drop with a relieved grunt and turned toward Jeremy, “Nothing’s ever gonna happen to you with me, Jem.”

“I don´t doubt it…” Jeremy murmured, watching.

Kyle locked his hands together and flexed hard, arms tightening and thickening, then brought his fists up against his chest, squeezing again to hold the pump and keep his guns fully swollen.

Then Kyle lowered himself onto his knees, one hand coming to rest on the bench right beside Jeremy. He brought his other arm up and flexed, his bicep jumping into a thick, rounded swell. “Look at this shit, Jem—big fucking guns!”

“Man… that´s—”

“c’mon, Jem, grab it, “Kyle cut in, pushing his arm closer. ”Try to wrap your hands around it!”

Jeremy reached out and wrapped both hands around Kyle’s bicep, squeezing. His fingers strained, pressing in, but didn’t meet. He adjusted, trying again from a different angle—then higher, then lower—each time squeezing harder, but never quite getting around it.

“Man… it’s like trying to grab a soccer football…” he muttered, hands still working around its volume, his eyes fixed on it.

Kyle grinned wider, flexing harder, “See that? That´s all those muffins and the stuff you fed me last night, Jem—straight into the muscle.”

Then Kyle dropped his hand and gave his buddy a wink, “And now …” he said with a knowing grin spreading across his face, “The pose I know you can´t get enough of.”

Jeremy’s heart kicked in his chest. A rush of nerves tightening there as he lifted his head. His eyes following the silent smirk on Kyle’s face as he rose to his feet. Then Jeremy’s gaze dropped to Kyle’s underbelly as he hooked his thumbs into his thong, tugging it down under his hips, dragging it lower with deliberate slowness, like he wanted Jeremy to take in every inch of his built-up torso before anything else. 

To be continued.