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His name was Wilbur.

Of course, we all called him Will. That was the name you sort of had to earn with him, but whenever a new face cropped up or some pert flower from the city - you know, those fancy girls who dress up - came down to wander the country, he always introduced himself as Wilbur Jennings.

Wilbur Jennings was a fine sort of man. He wasn't for any nonsense, and when he spoke people listened. His opinions were narrow but well formed, and his mind was always welcome to an occasional thought contrary to his own. His eyes had that small glint of intelligence though, and one had to wonder why someone like him chose to dedicate himself to such menial work. But here he was, dressed in his somewhat iconic denim overalls with shining brass buckles whilst he absently chewed a stray daisy between his teeth.

I should note that given his size and build, you would not expect him to be as smart as he was. He was, out all of us who worked the farm, the largest and by means of labour the most experienced of us there. He stood towering amongst us, with two giant ears that stood upright to the sun, adding to the illusion he was far bigger than even a giant was. I had guessed at first for him to be around six foot, knowing I was just shorter than that, but he apparently revealed himself to be a whole four inches above that - I found this especially surprising since he came from a family of rabbits, a thoroughbred by every means, and I was startled as I would've thought he might have some wolf or bull thrown in there for his stature. But he had the softest looking fur, despite slaving on a field all day amongst the errant dirt and sweating like a hog in the summer. He was built too, much like a prize winning stallion from the races. I longed each night with many a thought about him, groping myself beneath the sanctuary of my covers as I gazed across a moonlit room to see the hulk of his sleeping form, inferior in my size and very much at his mercy. I longed for that, to feel him against me; to feel any powerful man against me...

I had always admired him. From afar, naturally, as the owner of the farm was the most devout of Christians and would always slug everyone out of bed on the morning of the Sabbath and have them plunder down to the local church about four miles away to praise their god with such monotony that I wondered if there was any spirit at all behind their words. But I was gay, no doubt about it, and conducted myself with caution. I could only barely sneak off to the village every blue moon in order to catch me some tail action with the baker's nephew. Even then it was in so much secrecy I feared I might have even outdone a government agent.

Now Wilbur and I had always been worlds apart. One day I'd turned up to the farm barely a man, having just turned eighteen and being kicked out of my own home for reasons you might have guessed, and the owner had taken me in under the prospect of warm food, hot water, and a bed in return for my services. Wilbur was wary of me though. Even to this day he watches me from across the field where he and I work, scaling me up to be a loony city runaway who's got felonies hanging over him. After a while he grew comfortable to my presence and now I deem it a personal achievement when not only can he and I be in the same room as each other, but he'll actually engage me in conversation from time to time. He was a quiet fellow, like me, but I felt he was quiet because he wanted to be, and not like me where I felt I ought to be in fear of upsetting someone or saying something out of turn.

But it was one day, a swelteringly hot summer's day, that he and I crossed paths. I remember it so vividly as the owner, a wiry fox well past his prime, had rounded the troops and was going to take us all to church. I, like always, was going to go and had decided today not to dispute like I might have done, but Wilbur had said the most peculiar thing...

"Why don't ah start work on them carrots, boss?"

We had all expected him to be belittled, to be scalded for abandoning the Lord and Master on a holy day. Though according to the Bible we weren't supposed to work Sundays, we always had to do something just to maintain the upkeep of the crops and the farm in general, if only for a few hours. The fox had gazed at Wilbur for a moment, weighing it all up, and eventually allowed him to go. To be fair, Will had a point to stay; he was the most hardworking and efficient second to none, and the day was already beginning to get blisteringly hot, so the carrots might have been scorched by the time we returned. Though it was what happened next that had shocked me the most.

"Can Randy stay with meh?" Wilbur had said, "I could use tha extra pair of 'ands."

Now why, I have no idea, he had picked me out was a mystery to me at that moment, and what had thrown me even further was that, against all the odds, the owner had agreed, practically hurling me off the back of the pick-up we'd all been herded into and into the dusty ground. I watched, confused as a toddler whose nose had been stolen, as the truck pulled down the lane, kicking up a storm of dust behind it that trailed into the distance until they were just a speck on the horizon. I could have stood there for hours until they came back - heck, I could have been there until the sun came down. But a heavy, hot, and gruff hand slapped me on the back, very nearly sending me tumbling over, followed up by a rough and curt order,

"C'mon Rand, we best get ta work."

So it was like that. I followed him like a lost puppy looking for its mother and we went back to the bunker where we all slept. We changed in silence from our Sunday best into our Every-other-day worst. I glanced over my shoulder out of sheer curiosity just to catch a peek, knowing I wouldn't have to risk everyone else seeing me. He was just pulling up the tattered overalls he loved so much, sliding them up over this sculpted butt that almost got me panting. God he was sexy, there was no doubt about it, but like most of the guys my little soldier got up for, he probably wanted to find a girl to take out for the night only to then take them to bed and jackhammer them into the oblivion of bliss. There were rumours of Will, some of them impossibly unbelievably such as that he used to be part of the secret service, and had been given a dishonourable discharge and was forever condemned to work on the farm until his end of days. Others were what got me all riled up, bothered for a moment of privacy to let loose, like that fact he once did three girls in one night, or that he was bigger than even Barley, this portly stallion who was a patron down at the local watering hole for the guys. I saw him, every now and then when I went with the others to go drinking, and I'd caught him pissing into the trough one time, even sucked him off when he was too drunk to remember anything, and he was quite considerable with what he packed. To think that Will could be bigger was... intoxicating...

He left the bunker after me, picking up a hoe and basket as we set off for the fields. It was an awkward moment, wondering in near perfect silence were it not for the ebbing breeze that furled across the open acres. Part of me swore he knew I was staring at him, bearing holes into his back with my gaze, but he kept on walking, right down the fields until we came to what he deemed a suitable spot. Without so much as a word he just knelt down and began picking up the carrots, gently tugging at the leafy green tendrils before yanking out the rest of them. The soil was still moist, thank heavens, from the morning dew, so it was just as well we'd started early as by the time they'd get back the ground would be as baked as a rock and just as solid too. I just sighed, figuring my theory about Will having an ulterior motive was pure nonsense, and stooped down to get to work as well. I had barely pulled up a smattering of carrots when I heard a low cough from behind me. I turned, expecting Will to have something to say that was probably meaningless, but my jaw dropped - quite literally, if I recalled correctly, at the sight of what I saw.

Framed by the now high sun, Wilbur stood over me. His one ear typically dropped and stained with the black that smudged along his coat, a quirky smile grinning down at me with a daisy just poking out from between his buck teeth, slanted to the corner of his maw. His hoe was slung over one shoulder, and it was quite clear he wasn't going to be doing any more work. One of the buckles of his overalls had come undone - though I later learnt he'd undone it himself - and his chest had been partially exposed. That ripe muscle beneath his fur pressing through, glistening with the lightest tints of sweat and begging to licked and suckled; it was enough to drive me mad there from the sheer lust I had. His chest fur, coloured a bright blonde, only made me long to bury my muzzle into his torso more, wondering if he had matching fur 'down there'. Of course, I got a hint towards my answer. With his spare paw he carried that basket beside him, filled already with just a few carrots, picked and cut of their greens. But that didn't claim my attention. Oh no; it was something else that was poking its way out of his overalls, through the flap he'd cut in for pissing and the like. Heady and throbbing, I could see the very tip of his manhood shining with the droplets of horniness. Tiny flecks of blonde fur tipped the very based of where the denim closed around the flesh, and I could trace each vein with needy eyes down his glorious length. I licked my lips, wetting them so they wouldn't be dry as I imagined how it must feel to slide along the edges of my mouth, only to push inwards, deeper and deeper until my nose twitched and breathed his musky blonde fur. Perhaps I might have stared for too long at his member, as the next thing I became aware of was his voice, speaking down to me from where I crouched in the fluttering soil of the field, amongst the sprouting greens of carrots,

"Like whatcha see, boy?"

I gulped, nerves finally beginning to bubble in my mind as I began to fluster for an excuse,

"N-no sir!" I remembered saying, hastily looking away and failing to uproot a carrot between my paws, "I ain't into that shit." I fell back, sent tumbling over by my own force when my paws slipped with sweatiness, the leaves tearing through my fingers. I bruised my backside as I crashed back into the hardened ground,

"Don'tcha start lyin' tah meh, boy," My eyes widened, my throat clamped up with the stress. "I bin speakin' wit' Bernie's nephew man. Apparently yous two bin foolin' around when nobody's not lookin'. Apparently..." Will leant down over me, and the smell of his breath washed over me. Something with a hint of whisky which was odd as Will never drank himself, "Apparently... You like tah raise that pretty tail o' yours so he can ram his meat intah yah."

I didn't know what to do. There I was, cowering in the middle of an abandoned field with not a soul around for miles, trapped beneath the intensifying and accusing gaze of a man I thought I knew. Maybe he was a queer-beater. Maybe that's why he was stuck out here with the rest of us. He had beaten us gays into bloody pulps and now here he was to do me. He'd lure me out, find out my dirty little secret then snare me with his own cock before bringing me to within an inch of death. I would have cried if I weren't too terrified. I was rooted to the spot in fear.

"Do yah like it, boy?" What else was I supposed to say? The cat was out of the bag.

"Yes sir..." I said with such quietness that it was a miracle he heard me. It was practically the only sound in the entire vicinity. He saw his Adam's apple bounce, a gulp swallowed down his neck.

"Take off yer clothes..." He growled, tossing down his hoe and basket. He was fumbling with the other buckle to his overalls, his usually calm golden eyes now glazed with drifting manic dread. I would have questioned him were I not too afraid myself, and so obediently and solemnly I took off the garments I had on, leaving myself bare and exposed in the field. He knelt down, one knee ground into the dirt beside my hip as he brought his head closer to mine. I shivered with trepidation, anxiety burning in my chest as ever so gently he took my mouth against his, pressing his tongue against my lips. My confusion was only countered by the desperate need of comfort, and I welcomed him. My mouth parted and gratefully took what was offered. His tongue began to coax along mine, teasing it until I began to fight back, the slick taste of earthiness masking the tiniest trace of alcohol. Only then did it hit me. He wasn't the quiet sort because he wanted to be, nor was he anything of a monster. No. He was just like me. He was _afraid_of everyone else. He was afraid that if he spoke too much like me then our secrets would come tumbling forwards and he'd have to move on, just like I did. He, like me, preferred the company of men at night, and he, like me, sought out for release. I began to wonder just how much I didn't know about him.

He broke the kiss off, panting hard and heavy with much exertion. His forehead pressed so longingly into mine I thought he might never move away again. His eyes opened, slowly, and when he spoke it was with a panicked softness,

"Yah can't tell anyone... Please, Rand..."

"Ah promise." It was all I needed to say to him. He whimpered perhaps once before taking me against him again, our tongues finding themselves once more. His paws moved gracefully along my sides, cupping my waist and grinding his own crotch into my groin. It didn't take me long to pick up on the desire, and soon my own member had pushed itself free from my sheath. He took a hold of both our lengths, pressing them between his fingers so that they measured against one another, and began to hump into my lap. I moaned, unable to stop myself anymore, and carried on into his maw as he slid against me. It was incredible; the baker's nephew was only of equal size to my own, so I was accustomed to the average, but Will was bigger, heavier even against me. He was more powerful and in a league of his own in regards to how I felt about him. Having admired him for so long, both as a brotherly figure and as a sexual fantasy, I couldn't believe what was happening. Spurts of pre mixed into his own as that paw began to stroke up and down along our already shifting cocks. I couldn't bear this any longer, and with quickness I prised off his eager paw from my shaft, shuddering on the brink of what would have been too soon an orgasm.

He whined, annoyed he couldn't have what he wanted, and pushed me back onto the dusty ground. He traipsed himself over me, and looked down at me with a hungry stare. Gone was his wariness of me - wariness that had been of undecided judgement as to whether I wanted a girl between my legs or myself in a man's lap. He pushed my legs back, baring my hole to him finally. Now I was no stranger to taking it up there, I'd had enough experience for that, but when I felt the wad of spit, hacked up by Will, splatter against my taint and entrance I begin to whimper. I bit my lower lip to hold myself back from yelling, still fearful someone might catch us. I could only watch in anticipation, looking up the short distance to him as he crouched over me, his head just inches away from mine and blotting out the sun.

He pressed that fattened head of his against my hole, bearing down insistently and with his weight until, with a sudden shift, I felt him push inside. I cried out, yelping at the sudden flare of pain as I worked over a cock bigger than anything I'd taken. He carried on sliding down, not stopping as I grunted painfully, and making sure that each inch slipped past that swelling ring and deeper inside. I watched, moaning aloud and frustratingly so towards the clouds, as that hunk of meat pushed on with little resistance, his weighted balls slipping down my taint as that final portion of rabbit cock hilted me. We shared a moment of elation, knowing that the worst was over, and now we were past the brunt we could indulge in what we both wanted; his goatee tickled my chin, brushing against it as we resumed our kissing. I barely felt the slightest pain as he lifted back his hips to withdraw his member, the rim holding onto it for a moment before the length slipped free. He kept the tip kissing against my hole, steadying himself before he ploughed back down.

There was no elegance about it all. We were both too deprived and lustful to care about love or romance. There could be time for that later, planned time where we could decide how we should conduct ourselves with the others, what we were going to do, but for that brief moment in a dusty field in the baking high sun we were animals rutting to get our rocks off. I moaned and quivered as I felt that long manhood drive itself between my sweaty cheeks, the thickness spreading me apart until I felt like I might crack in two. My paws clutched frantically at his shoulders, looking for purchase so that I might rock my body along in time with his thrusts. One of his arms braced themselves against the ground beside my head with his paw gripping lightly at my headfur. His elbow smudged into the dirt and though it must've hurt I don't think he realised. His spare and free paw managed to snake its way to my hip, ensnaring my waist and drawing it flush into his lap upon each powerful fuck. My cock writhed against his stomach as I wiggled, gyrating with needy motions to spur him on.

I couldn't count the minutes we spent in that field, him pressed against me, the sun bearing down against our vulnerable fur and washing us in a heat that enraptured us. Whilst we both were hard and raring to shoot, we managed to last a great deal longer than might have been deemed possible. I remember his grunts, so loud and harsh in my ears, as he slammed backwards and forwards against my tender cheeks, that mighty prick pushing my innards aside and reworking them to its shape. I could feel the searing heat radiate through me, sending an electrifying jolt along my spine each time that bludgeon tapped against my prostate. I must've been a mess, drooling and moaning like a feral dog getting's its stomach scratched, our bodies grinding in a cacophony of delirious exultations. It was a naughty thing, to mate with another man, on the holy day, of all days! I think I must have been stroking not just myself but also my rebellious urges, to lash out and for once take what I wanted. Will must have thought the same, surely, for he let go of my waist and simply propped himself up on both paws, either side of my head, with his back arched. He pounded me into the ground, now unrelenting and uncaring if I was comfortable. I leant back and took it, my shoulders resting my weight, and by extension his too, against his forearms. His eyes were clenched shut, teeth gritted and biting down hard upon his tell-tale daisy. I could feel the tension building against his crotch, how his movements became shorter, more rapid, and more panicked. He was teetering on the brink was trying to hold out for as long as he could.

Then it happened. With no warning, just a single ram down as deep and as hard as he could, Wilbur buried his cock into my hole. My muscle shivered and shook from the shock, suddenly being made so stretched and by something so heavy. Then the flood came; it was just a spurt at first, perhaps something that made me disappointed somewhat, followed by the unexpected torrent of cum. It was a thick surge, possibly thicker than I might have imagined, and it shot with a great force against my guts. By the time for the first shot was over, I had thought he'd released more than any man might, but then came the second shot, just as viscous and as swelling as the last. Another and another followed, only gradually becoming less intense as the one before it until only dribbles sputtered out. The warmth in my belly was blissful and encompassing, though Will didn't by any means let me finish like that. With slow thrusting motions, swilling the rabbit spooge that swam in my backside, he jacked me off furiously, wrangling my dick from base to tip with one paw whilst the other stroked and tugged at my balls, drawing the two away from each other so that I jerked uncontrollably with the combined sensation. I cried out, feeling the onslaught of my orgasm rising, but he silenced me quickly again with a delving tongue that broke past my battered mouth. I groaned and howled into his maw, shooting off my load across his chest and my stomach, splattering my copious seed between the two of us in sticky strings of off-white goo. Though the sex was over, he refused to leave me be. Plugged still with his soft though still very much firm cock, we passionately kissed until we reasoned we could not stay like that any longer.

The rest of the farm returned later that day, back from singing in adulation to their god and from sharing cheap wafers and some wine, and were now looking out across the half-naked field of where the carrot crop was. Baskets were lined up ready to be sorted through and sold off for the highest price. Not a single one of them noticed that my fur dripped a little from the cold water which we'd hosed ourselves down with. Not one of them saw that Wilbur was a little out of breath, nor did they catch the lopsided smile to his face or the twinkle that shone ever brighter behind his golden eyes. Not one of them spotted that he and I shot glances across the field at one another, smiling mischievously as they hadn't a clue. The farmer even later commended us for working so hard and for helping to bring the harvest in early. He thanked the lord, if I recall, and I had to restrain my giggle.

But Wilbur and I had a plan now. And for now we'd always offer to bring in the harvest just that little bit earlier when we could, especially on the Sunday. Especially if we were picking up carrots.