There we found two dozen hens clucking about our breeder coop and a spry looking cock. They were 'Plymouth Rocks' and they were a sight for sore eyes....They made me remember that once upon a time, that I'd been a farmer and not an explorer. It didn't take me long to get back into the swing of things. While I snooped about the grain bins opposite the barn in search of feed, I had my youngest Karen fill their water tray. Thankfully, as I had expected, our 'benefactors' had dropped off a few. Neither of us were like lilting, effeminate Lenny, who had been openly gay as long as I'd known him. We just got our rocks off when it suited us, and most girls at our school were prudes anyhow, so it just made things easier. I had no clue that I had just subconsciously placed myself with Paul on whatever level of the cocksucking hierarchy he was stationed at.I slept soon after, dreamlessly. Upon waking, my post-orgasmic clarity about the nature of my sexuality was washed away, and the mild. More

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