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Fun in the mud


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Posted by Luke on March 02, 2021 at 11:23:32

Bright and sunny last Friday and a good bit warmer too. Dave and I had no school work to do so we spent the morning helping out around the farm and mid-morning Sam and Dave started helping uncle Frank doing some maintenance on a couple of the tractors (Dave and Sam are both farm machinery nuts) so Tony and I decided to head to the football field next to our house and have a kick about. Tony changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt into a pair of bright blue joggers and a navy football shirt. The joggers are made of recycled polyester from a strange unpronounceable Chinese brand with the two white stripes on the sides from the waist to knee. Tony had persuaded me to buy a pair as well so I did the same when we got home and changed into mine and my blue and white striped football shirt. We both decided to go commando as the joggers feel great when worn that way, especially when they get soaking wet and muddy.

The field around the pitch area is still fairly waterlogged despite the drier weather recently and there are a couple of big muddy puddles where the mud and water are almost ankle deep. The pitch is drier but still muddy in the centre and both goalmouth areas. Tony went in goal first as I tried to score goals. Never one to do things by halves, Tony was happily diving and rolling around in the mud to get to each shot. He failed mostly but managed to save a few. It didn’t take long for his joggers and shirt to get muddy across his backside and down both legs, across his shoulders and down his chest and along his arms. After his first spectacular – and unexpected – save he celebrated by running around waving his arms about before diving into one of the muddy puddles off the pitch. He ran full tilt towards the puddle and dived in at full stretch with arms in front of him and slid through the muddy water almost the full length of it. He lay in the water for a few moments before getting up and turning towards me as he laughed and looked down at himself. Dripping wet, his whole front from chin to ankles, was a shiny wet mud brown. His joggers clung to his legs and backside and judging by the clear outline of a good sized boner trying to tent out his crotch, he was very pleased with himself.

Tony said it my turn in goal and I did as badly as him at saving his shots – it was distracting watching him in his wet clothes with everything flopping around as he ran about and moved! That’s my excuse anyway. He dared me to celebrate in the same way that he had and I ended up as wet and muddy as him with exactly the same problem as him afterwards. He then rugby tackled me into the other puddle which, if anything, was even muddier and deeper than the first on. We wrestled each other around until we were both totally soaked again and also covered in a fresh layer of mud. It was then as I lay on my back catching my breath that Tony crawled on top of me and started grinding his boner against mine as he slid and moved around on top of me. That just made me harder still and I could tell it was doing the same to him. He rolled off me and then started rubbing handfuls of fresh sloppy mud across my crotch and along the length of my boner as he did the same to himself. I reached out and took his hand off his own boner and started doing what he was doing to me. After a bit he slipped his hand inside my joggers and skin-on-skin contact, gently rubbing his wet and muddy thumb and forefinger along the length of my shaft and using his other fingers to brush against my balls, the feel of someone else doing to me what I find doing to myself the most arousing thing I can think of, just got me harder and more tense than ever and when I slipped my hand inside his joggers and did the same we were both so excited that it only took a few minutes work before we both blew our loads in a couple of what seemed like endless spurts, splattering our cum over the other’s hand and inside of the joggers. The most intense feeling ever. We took a minute or two to recover and just lay in the mud and water enjoying the feeling of being wet, muddy, spent and flaccid with our wet clothes clinging everywhere. Tony was the first to speak.

“That felt good. I’m hungry, any chance of something to eat ….. it is nearly lunchtime?”

“Yeah, cheese and ham roll and a beer sound OK?” I said “We’ll need to clean up before going indoors.”

“That’s OK. Nice cold hose-down might get me going again…..” Tony laughed.

So we went back to my house and hosed each other down until we were clean but still, obviously, dripping wet.

“Leave these wet things by the door, I’ve got some shorts you can borrow.” I told Tony. We are used to seeing each other in the buff in the school showers after sports and so on, so he was not phased by that and I gave him a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts to wear and we sat in the kitchen and had some lunch. After lunch we pulled on our wet clothes again and headed out to the mud pit. Tony said he wanted to get thoroughly muddy again as he was still feeling horny and though it would be nice to feel his boner waving around in deep liquid mud rather than being pushed into an inch or two of mud against hard ground. Whilst standing in the mud I pushed him back against the side and gave him a slow hand job through his joggers under the mud, which he semed to react well to and enjoy. When we clambered out of the mud pit, both covered and dripping with mud, we compared the size of our boners as they tented out the front of our joggers, which weighed down and clingy with mud, clearly outlined the full length of our members from root to tip and all the the little bumpos and ridges in between. That was interesting and just made us both more aroused as we looked closely and commented on the differences, somehow seeing our boners glad in the muddy shiny joggers seemed to highlight things more than if we had been in the buff.

After that we went back to the farm and hosed each other down again before going in search of Sam and Dave to find out what they were doing.

“There’s a surprise – you two being soaking wet again…..” Uncle Frank laughed as we approached.

“Yes, we’ve been down to the mud pit …… “ Tony grinned.

“We’re done here, just about. We were interrupted by a nice surprise, Molly went into labour and we have a lovely little calf. Want to have a look?” Uncle Frank said.

Molly and Maria are two of the cows who are currently at various stages of being pregnant, seems they were further along than the vet had predicted. The herd is Hereford cows, the reddish brown and creamy white ones, and are all named as well as having their official registration numbers. They are mostly sweet tempered and friendly once they get to know you. As we approached Molly’s pen she nudged the calf forward towards us as if wishing to show her off. I reached through the bars and held my hand out and the calf licked it cautiously and came closer.

“What are you going to call her …..” I was asking uncle Frank as she suddenly let out a huge fart and looked around startled by the sound.

“She should be named with a “W” for her generation, Sam had suggested Wendy, but because she seems to fart all the time I think it should be Windy ….” uncle Frank laughed.

We were all just agreeing with that when Maria in the next pen started to groan loudly and suddenly she was dropping her new calf and then licking it clean and nudging it to try and stand up.

Uncle Frank climbed into the pen and watched ready to help if needed. The whole thing was over so quickly we had barely had time to move away from Molly and Windy. A new-born calf really is one of the cutest and most lovely animals, seeing their struggles to stand and take their first steps and looking around at the world with their huge eyes and then as they bond with their mother – it’s amazing really and something I never tire of seeing.


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