It was summer at last, school, the Oaks Academy, closed for summer break, and Doug Henderson was free to do as he pleased for ten glorious weeks. Except he wasn't free, he planned to work the entire summer as a gardener on a neighbor's estate. Doug defined 'estate' as being a larger property than his family's fourteen or so room house, set in the middle of only one hundred acres. Mrs. Gibbs, the neighbor and his employer's home boasted over thirty rooms with over four hundred-fifty acres of farm and woodlands. The estate, Somerset Farm, included amenities like a stable with twenty box stalls, a greenhouse, a dairy, a kennel, which was closed after Mr. Gibbs passed on, and a herd of registered Black Angus cattle. The big house, as opposed to the half dozen cottages on the property for workers, was staffed with a butler, a cook, two maids and a houseman. The houseman, Patrick, a first generation Irishman, did all of the really heavy cleaning, moving furniture and other shit work inside that the other servants thought themselves above doing. Patrick also took care of all the gardening around the big house.
Mrs. Gibbs considered her four full-time gardeners to be generally incompetent and banished them from caring for the lawn and gardens surrounding her home and assigned Patrick the job of caring for that area. Mrs. Gibbs was way too nice in Doug's opinion, she should have fired or pensioned the lazy pricks off after Mr. Gibbs died, and they discovered how much they could get away with under her supervision. Patrick needed help in the summer, so Mrs. Gibbs, Mrs. G., Doug called her, attached Doug to help Patrick. Doug and Patrick got along great, and Doug discovered he actually liked gardening and particularly taking care of the swimming pool.
Doug loved Mrs. G's. pool for two reasons: He loved to swim and was a rising star on his school's swim team, and Patrick just laughed his ass off whenever he caught Doug doing laps after he finished vacuuming, put the equipment away, then 'accidentally' fell in. The other reason he enjoyed Mrs. G's. pool was that it was completely walled with eight feet of bricks, so it was totally private and he could enjoy the pool and it's large terrace in the nude. Of course he couldn't go naked or swim when Mrs. G. was home, but she went to Europe every summer, and didn't return until Labor Day, and Patrick indulged Doug after she was safely gone, in not wearing his shorts or even his skimpy tank suit while he worked in the pool area, because Doug claimed if he should fall in, then he would have to work the rest of the day in wet clothing. Patrick also enjoyed watching the fourteen year old work in his birthday suit, and Doug enjoyed having an audience.
Doug could swim as long as he could remember, and was also always on his school's swim team. He always enjoyed looking at teammate's bodies around the pool, and as he got older and reached puberty, in the locker room and showers particularly. At first he thought this was normal since everyone looked openly with glances and covertly whenever someone developed an erection unexpectedly. When he started jacking off however, he never fantasized about girls, it was always guys, juniors and seniors, and he came to the realization that he was gay. With recognition, came acceptance, and with that, he started to look for some other guy who thought like he did, so they could get together and do something about Doug's embarrassing virginity.
One day, at the end of June, Patrick appeared at Doug's side while he was pulling weeds in a flower bed. "Douglas me lad, I've decided that I'm takin' a long holiday this summer. I'm off to home, and I'll not be back until just before Herself comes home. You're a good worker and you can handle this up here as well as meself, so I've no worries there. The assholes in the house are long gone on their holidays as well, so you've got the place to yourself for the summer." Patrick paused and ran a hand lightly over Doug's bare back, then said in a lower voice, "I wish I was forty or more years younger, if I was, I'd be introducin' you to the mysteries, but since that can't be, I've come to think of you as the grandson that I'll never have, so I've kept me hands to me self, but I want to thank ye for givin' me the pleasure of lookin' me fill anyways. I'm off on the early train tomorrow, so I'll be takin' my leave of ye now.
"Gee thanks Pat for trusting me to take care of things." Doug blushed as he stood up to shake hands. "I, I sort of have one question before you go." Patrick waited with a smile and a raised bushy eyebrow. "Well, I was wondering, that is, how did you know? Ah, that I'm well, gay?" he asked, as color rose into his curly red hair and down his neck through a cosmos of freckles.
Patrick burst into rich deep laughter. "Ah lad, gay is it they call us these days? I think it just takes one to know one. How is it you knew that I am?" Doug started to say he didn't, but Pat shut him off and answered his own question. "Deep down, you knew, admit it or no, but you knew. Its somewhat easier for me, I've more experience in the lookin'. Don't hasten things by offerin' yourself to the first old man as comes along, or any other old timer for that matter. Bide your time, you'll meet Mr. Right, and everything will be perfect. Somemore unasked for advise: Try not to let that monster thing you're sportin' rule your head, else you'll start confusin' great sport with a thing called love. That may happen in time, when it does you'll know the difference." Patrick smiled at the boy, reached up and stroked Doug's cheek lightly, then allowed his fingers to drift downward over the long neck, developing shoulders and chest, then further, over the lightly rippled stomach, to pause briefly and outline Doug's seven inch hard young manhood showing boldly through his very old and too tight nylon shorts. "Glory be." Patrick managed before he turned and hurried across the lawn.
That first touch by a hand other than his own, a man's hand set Doug in motion. He left his weeding and rushed toward the solid wooden locked gate in the wall surrounding the pool. He fumbled the key from it's not so secret hiding place, and opened the gate. On the inside, he pulled it closed so hard the sound echoed around the high walls. He kept the key as there was only one that he knew of, so he wouldn't be disturbed suddenly. He knew what his cock demanded he do, even though it was only ten o'clock in the morning, and he was outside in broad daylight. He frantically pushed down his shorts until they fell around his ankles and he could kick free of them. He didn't even take the precious seconds necessary to pry off his old tennis shoes, but headed for the nearest heavy wooden lounge. The cushions had been removed for the summer and stored. He threw himself down on his back halfway down the lounge. He ignored the heavy dew that had yet to evaporate as the sun got higher. The same sun would dry his back as quickly.
He kicked his legs up and back until his body curved and his weight rested on his shoulders. His feet planted themselves flatly on the back of the lounge. Doug's practiced mouth was already open and waiting for his cock to swing back from his forehead to settle hanging rigidly down, pointing at his mouth. He stopped it with his tongue, and sucked it into his mouth. His lips locked on the shaft after three inches had disappeared. His sucking intensified. His hands went automatically to the backs of his thighs high near where his crack started. He used his hands to pull his cock in further, then he let up the pressure, and used his stomach muscles to withdraw, but not all the way, just until only the turgid head remained, spit slicked and oozing precum. He tasted himself, and took the time to swallow.
He was too far gone to even try to make it last, to go slowly, to make love to himself for a full twenty minutes was his ultimate goal in getting there usually. He hadn't managed it yet. This time there were only three mighty thrusts before his whole five foot-eight inch body convulsed in on itself and he spurted into his throat. He watched his cock and balls looking nearly cross eyed. Only two of his seven inch length remain in his vision and his balls though bunched, nearly rested on the bridge of his nose. After the first and largest spurting, he was able to withdraw himself and catch the rest of the diminishing series on his tongue. He swallowed when necessary, not greedily, because there was always more at his disposal at any time, and erections could be summoned with a thought or a glance at another guy's body, naked or clothed, his mind could strip a guy equally fast.
When he was finished his cock parted with his mouth just by returning to normal. He pushed with his feet and his ass and the backs of his legs slammed the lounge painfully. Doug staggered to his feet, pried his shoes off and just fell forward into the pool. His brain automatically turned his body in the short distance, so he entered the water head first with almost no splash.
He surfaced as quietly as he dove, his gray eyes squinted at the sun. He returned to the lounge and took the time to flatten it. Then he stretched out and sighed. "Wow, I guess this will be my morning break." He giggled to himself, "Complete with a snack. With Patrick gone and the whole place deserted, maybe I'll just do it everyday about this time. I just wish the cock belonged to someone else for a change, or the mouth did." He felt his cock stir in response to his thoughts, and sat up quickly to look down on his over eager organ. Aloud, he chided it, "Oh, no you don't we have work to do. You just behave and we'll do it again at lunchtime when we have an hour."