Muddy Stories

original story by moritz. translated, revised and expanded by Moorer

One fateful, warm morning, I woke to the sound of birds chirping—a gentle reminder that another good day awaited. Living in a wooden cabin deep in the woods had its perks: the golden sunrise painting the sky, the earthy scent of fresh clay and mud lingering in the air, and, best of all, having my buddy Alexis as my roommate.

Chapter 11.

Across the area that evening, three very different conversations occurred simultaneously. One incredulous, one horrified, one involving diplomatic skill.

Sitting with a pint in his local, Dermot was explaining in amused terms what had happened when his unnamed employer attacked his new lad. His mates found it funny and shocking. A discussion followed about assault, theft and abusing trust. To say nothing about somebody being a bit cocky !

Four miles away, Lee's mother refused to let him over the threshold !

Ethan woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. Getting out of bed, he looked out of the window: the sun was shining and the ground was clearly still wet from last night’s rain. “This is going to be a fun day.”, he thought to himself.

Under the gnarled branches of the old oak by the dairy barn, Alan and Liam leaned in close over a battered picnic table. Alan, forty and chair of the local Farmers’ Association, was every inch the robust countryman—slightly muscular, hands calloused from milking and machinery, and eyes that brightened at the very thought of fresh cow pie. His easy laugh and genuine warmth had made him a favourite in the village.

Not sure if this is the right forum section for this, but:

Imagine medieval streets.

Everyone in boots, wading through a mixture of mud and horse crap, possibly even getting splashed with it by carriages or hooves.

So for those who don’t know I’m a delivery driver and this weekend I was sent to do a drop off at an oil refinery. Not somewhere the job would usually take me but I couldn’t complain and in all fairness really hope it happens again.
So to cut a long story short there was a bit of a complication with the delivery and I was asked to go inside to sort it.

This story started a few years ago, when I found an interesting looking brown rectangle on Google aerial maps. I had been looking for a farm muck pit, that had been mentioned to me, in area that was a little way from my usual haunts. I didn't find the muck pit in question, but a distinctive brown rectangle had appeared on the aerial maps since I'd last properly looked. With a closer view, the aerial photo revealed it was a large dirty water pond. And above, what could well be a slurry lagoon, right next to what was probably a large cow shed.

Low Lane Farm

Chapter 10.

Before he could really engage his brain, Lee grabbed Jack's neck and pulled his face towards him. Their lips locked and in no time Jack's tongue had invaded Lee's hot mouth. It flicked around wildly, making Lee moan with sheer pleasure . This again was totally unchartered waters for him, but he knew he wanted this lad.

Low Lane Farm. Chapter 9.
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With the post van gone, the farm was totally silent again. Except for Lee’s rapidly beating heart. In his mind, it sounded as if it might burst through his rib cage.

He held the Dickies overalls against his naked body – they were too long but would certainly fit : the waders, on the other hand, were causing serious activity in his cock !

“ Bullseye High & Dry” the label read. Thick, heavy black rubber, substantial cream coloured steel toes, thick shoulder braces and an intoxicating smell…