Fool

byRubenR©

This is my contribution to the " APRIL FOOLS DAY CONTEST 2018"

I really liked writing this story and I hope you will enjoy reading it too.

This is not a sex-story. For those looking for detailed descriptions of strong, muscled bodies, or hot, steamy sex scenes, try the next one on the list; you won't find it here.

For me, this is a new category to write for, and I would like to know how the story is received. Comments are very much appreciated (even critical ones; insulting ones not so much, though...) and I will try to react to them where applicable.

And please, vote.

All names, characters, situations and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious. No identification with actual persons is intended or should be inferred.

Copyright blablabla...


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With a mix of curiosity, amusement, and even a hint of fear, we await the slowly approaching group of girls. They are loud, cheering and laughing, and it is clear they are heading for us. I can see that Courtney is not among them.

"Steve!" I hear them calling. "Steve! Will you also join the party on Sunday?"

I look at Lennard. "What party?" but he raises his shoulders.

"What party? Where?" I ask, once they have reached us.

"Courtney's house!"

They are all shouting and laughing, but eventually, I decipher that Courtney will give a 'Beach Party' this Sunday, and I am invited.

"And Lennard?" I ask; no-one has mentioned him so far.

"I will need to ask," one of the girls says hesitantly, looking briefly at him. "She has only mentioned you, Steve, but maybe... I'll let you know, okay?"

Lennard just shrugs. "Not sure if I could come anyway. It is my turn for milking this weekend. My parents will be gone, visiting my uncle, and they won't return before Sunday night."

It is not the same, far less fun without him, but at the same time, I can't possibly say no to Courtney. A party at Courtney's!

When the girls are out of sight, Lennard stomps my shoulder. "Way to go!"

"I'm not sure," I mumble. "If you're not coming..."

"What's the problem?" he encourages me instead. "I probably wouldn't come anyway, even if I am invited, but you shouldn't waste the opportunity."

Courtney's parties are well-known and well attended. Apparently, her parents have loosened up considerably.

It's been a while since I've been with Courtney. We used to be close—very close—until a few years ago when Travis showed up, made a fool of me, and pulled Courtney with him. It was weird; all at once, she suddenly avoided me. She even started to make fun of me. It was hard to deal with.

But lately, things didn't look that well between Courtney and Travis anymore. Some said he had forced her, others thought he had only tried, but anyway, it seems like their love didn't last forever.

Would she feel regrets about breaking up with me? Although, 'breaking up'... We had never really mentioned something was going on between us; never made it official. But to me it was obvious, and no-one seemed to challenge that. Until Travis came along. Would she feel ashamed, and is that why she asked the others to invite me?

I wonder about the occasion for this party. 'Beach Party', they said. Weird time for a Beach Party; Cold! Probably just an excuse to show off some skin. Showing off is something she started after joining Travis, but she does look good! I never fully appreciated her looks—I didn't even notice it—until she left me.

"Hey! It's time to go!" Lennard pulls me out of my daydreams.

***

She is looking at me!

Courtney sits a few tables away from me, and although she turns her head when I watch her, I do notice she is also checking me out.

And she is constantly whispering with the girl sitting next to her; that much, that the teacher even gives her a warning.

Lennard also notices. "She keeps watching you!"

"Sssst! I noticed, but don't pay attention, okay? If she really wants something, she will eventually come my way"

Lennard nods. "I hope so. I really do."

***

That day I don't hear from the party anymore, but the next day the schoolyard is buzzing with rumors. Somehow, my name also comes up regularly, but when I get too close, people lock down. Something is going on and I'm sure it has to do with Courtney; particularly the people from her group act secretive.

Lennard even dares to speculate that the party is because of me; that it is an attempt to get me back, but I wouldn't go that far. It's nonsense anyway; Courtney very well knows that I would love to get 'us' back, so this party-idea would be redundant.

Somehow, I can't get close to her; she keeps avoiding me, even though she does keep a close eye on me. Perhaps it is all part of a big surprise. I will have to wait and see, I guess.

When school is finished and we are about to go home, some people feel the need to remind me that it will be a Beach Party; Speedos for guys, bikinis for girls. In addition, men are required to bring an accessory; a surfboard, an inflatable crocodile, a beach-umbrella, something substantial. A snorkel and goggles won't get you inside.

When they are gone, Lennard gives me a look. "Weird."

I shrug; already I was planning to do something special with the theme. It's just a pity that I won't stand out that much, when everybody does. I guess I'll have to raise the level even higher.

With Lennard on milking-duty this weekend, there isn't much we can do in the evening; he'll have to get up at five the next morning, so we won't go tonight. Instead, I use my time for learning. The exams are rapidly approaching, and although things are looking good, it can always get better.

***

On Saturday, I help my father with the preparations for the planting season. All machines have been serviced in the months before, but now that we know what the soil looks like, after the winter has ended, it is time for the final adjustments, some minor adaptions, and to get them ready to roll.

My mind wanders—what will the party be like; who will be coming, and how many? During the mindless tasks, I allow myself to daydream and see myself with Courtney. I do all the things I didn't do before, while I probably did have the opportunity; it made me jealous when Travis wasted no time to defile her, erroneously suggesting that such things aren't special, and don't require the right moment at the right place. Fortunately, that balloon has finally been popped, making him the final loser.

How will the others react, when I return to be her 'True Love'; it seems unlikely that they will turn their back on Courtney the way they did to me when Courtney and I took our break. I guess rejoining with Courtney also means that I will be part of that group again. I wonder what that would do to Lennard; he has never aspired to be part of the crowd. Would it bother him, if I do?

My chest warms when I think of how I will kiss those lips, one arm around her waist, hand supporting her back, while the other hand rests on her ass. I can almost hear her sighs when I think of how I could squeeze her muscled butt, and feel her body submitting herself in my arms. Should I take it easy, step by step, having time on my side? Or should I move on this time, to show that, despite the short interruption, we are still standing strong? That I also have learned from our mistakes, and acknowledge that kissing and touching is something we both desire? That it is only natural, some of our deepest needs?

When my father calls it a day, it just in time for me to join Lennard bringing their cows back home. He doesn't need any help for that—it doesn't make his work any quicker or easier—but I like walking through the fields and gathering the ladies for the evening.

We don't talk; there is not much to talk about. Instead, we watch the meadow birds soaring the skies and try to find their early nests. Lennard points out the ones he has already spotted before.

"You better stay away from that cow," he warns me when I try to make one move a little faster. "She has some very bad temperament, lately."

The moment Lennard cautions me, the cow indeed turns her head, ready to give me a head-butt, but when I keep my distance, she turns back and calmly continues her way to the farm.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Lennard says, shaking his head. "Earlier this week, she managed to kick my father. If she doesn't improve very soon, it won't be long before she finds herself lining up at the butchers.

"Why does she act like this," I ask. "Has she always been like that?"

"Sometimes there is some discomfort," Lennard answers. Actually, I already know the answer, but maybe he tells me something new.

"It could be a hoof infection or some irritation somewhere else; it can be parasites, problems with other cows. But we have checked her all over and couldn't find anything unusual. We've been paying extra attention to her in the group; nothing. Perhaps it is just a bad character."

Without further problems, we arrive at the cowshed.

"Steve!"

It's Melody, Lennard's sister, who comes running our way. According to Lennard, she has a crush on me. She certainly is a nice girl, I guess one could say she is good looking, but... I don't know. I like her—I mean, I really like her—but she doesn't have the same appeal that Courtney has to me. Is it the illusion of unattainability what makes Courtney so desirable? Melody is far more down to earth; she doesn't seem to have any secrets to uncover, no challenges to meet.

We kiss each other's cheeks, and while Lennard moves on to prepare everything in the milking parlor, Melody and I drive the cows the last meters into the barn and lock them up, ready to be milked.

"Will you stay and watch James Bond with us tonight?"

"I don't know," I reply. "I haven't eaten yet, so I do have to go home first. And I don't know yet what Lennard is planning to do."

"Pfff. You think he'll say no to that?" Melody smiles. "You know we like you being around, and it's not like we have any other plans for tonight. Why don't you stay for dinner; I'm sure we have enough."

"My mam won't like it if I don't show up for dinner without telling in advance. But I could come after dinner. Sure."

Melody leaves, I guess for preparing their dinner, and I go to the milking parlor. I like it there; standing in the pit, watching how Lennard takes care of the cows.

Almost all cows enter the milking parlor by themselves; some are actually pushing others to get there first, either because they look forward to the relief, or because of the extra feed pellets they get. By themselves, the cows line up to fill the empty places, and when Lennard gives them their food they immediately start eating, almost ignoring everything else Lennard does afterward.

First, Lennard sprays their teats with disinfectant and dries them with a cloth. He briefly milks by hand and checks the milk coming from all four teats. Then, he attaches the teat cups, turns on the machine and runs one more check to see if all cups are well attached. Almost immediately, the milk squirts in the glass milk receiver, and when the milk does look good, Lennard moves on to the next cow, until all four animals on one side are attached to the milk machine. Meanwhile, he constantly keeps an eye on the cows on the other side, which are already being milked.

When the milk stops flowing, Lennard turns off the vacuum and removes the teat cups. When all four cows on one side are done, he opens the gate, the cows leave the parlor, and the next four cows are called to enter.

I like watching Lennard, standing at the center, surrounded by his 'ladies'. At school, he often seems awkward and shy, but here, he radiates calmness and self-assurance. He looks strong; rolled up sleeves, slow, controlled movements, skillful hands. His voice loud, powerful, demanding, but also reassuring and soothing. He knows all of them; these are not just animals, but individuals, each with their own stories, and he likes talking about them; Lennard loves talking about cows. At school, people joke that he is more interested in cows than in girls, and it could very well be true.

"There we have the grumpy cow you met before," Lennard says when a new quartet of cows lines up. When he tries to attach the cups, the cow briefly attempts to kick them off, causing Lennard to shout out some swearing words, followed by a muttering 'sorry' to me. I raise my shoulders; I can imagine it is frustrating and 'You stupid cow!' doesn't sound overly offensive to me, given the situation.

Not much later it is time for me to leave.

"Any plans for tonight?" I ask, before I go.

"Mwah, don't know," Lennard replies. "Watching television I guess. And you?"

"Melody asked me to come and watch James Bond tonight," I reply. "Is that okay with you?"

"Sure." Lennard gives me a grin. "With you around, she may be persuaded to prepare some chicken-wings or other snacks."

"Too lazy to make them yourself?" I grin, and, not awaiting his answer, I climb out of the pit. "Later!"

"See you."

***

Not long after dinner, I go back to Lennard and Melody, taking a magnum bottle of beer and a bag of crisps with me. It's too early, two more hours until the movie starts, so we spend the time playing soccer on the PlayStation.

Both Melody and Lennard are far better than me, and in their final match they put up a bet; the loser will take care of the snacks and drinks tonight. Lennard's celebration dance is way over the top, and with a sour smile, Melody mock-obediently asks how she can serve him.

"Didn't we have some chicken-wings in the freezer?"

"But the movie almost starts!" Melody protests. She does comply, though, and turns on the oven.

Back in the living room, she wriggles herself in between Lennard and me, lets out an exaggerated sigh, then claims, "I'm allowed to make a wish!" and quickly kisses my cheek.

"What's that about!" Lennard asks, just as surprised as I, by his sister's weird acting.

"Don't you know? When surrounded by two persons of the opposite gender, you are allowed to make a wish!"

"So you wished for a prince, and therefore kissed the frog?" Lennard can't avoid Melody's blow, but shakes it off with roaring laughter. "You should have wished for chloroform and a set of handcuffs instead."

"That's your approach, but I have my stunning smile to take care of things." She wiggles herself a bit deeper into the sofa and puts her feet on the table.

Their easy-going teasing continues all through the movie. During the commercials, Melody takes care of the chicken-wings, and every now and then she refills our glasses, but we take it easy on the drinks and she doesn't have much work to do. It is mainly her own glass which needs to be filled, and by the end of the film Lennard gets slightly annoyed by his sister's loud folly and constant tickling and even pawning of me.

"Not sure what's gone into her," he says almost apologetically when Melody almost drowns in another laughing fit.

"I do," she cries out, screaming of laughter. "A whole bottle of that!" while pointing at an empty bottle of wine.

"I think my little sis is ready to go to bed!" Lennard seems embarrassed. Melody doesn't; apparently, she has been drinking in some courage.

"I don't mind going to bed, if he goes too!"

"I will also go to bed," I reassure her, "but that would be my own bed!"

"Okay. I'll come with you!"

Lennard groans in frustration. "That's why you shouldn't be drinking; you can't handle it."

It seems best to me to leave, also because Lennard has to wake up early again, tomorrow morning. "If you behave well, just go to bed and stop scaring me off, I'll come back tomorrow," I promise her.

"But tomorrow is another day," she wails, and I shrug. It's true.

I move to the hall to get my coat and put on my shoes, where I'm almost thrown on the floor by Melody. By now, Lennard is completely fed up with her, grabs her arm and pulls her away. "You're embarrassing!"

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart!" Melody cries, followed by another bout of laughter, while Lennard drags her to her room.

"See you tomorrow, Melody!" I reply, smiling because of the kisses she blows at me.

"I'm really sorry about that," Lennard apologizes to me when he returns. "I really don't know what got into her."

"It's really no problem," I assure him. "I only hope she'll be okay tomorrow."

"I hope she'll have a hell of a headache tomorrow," Lennard replies instead. "She can't scare people away like that!"

"She's cute," I manage to say while Lennard runs away again, trying to stop Melody from getting back to me. "See you tomorrow!"

***

I start the day by cleaning up the rabbit hutch, moving the goats to a new place, and washing my parents' car. After lunch, I return to Lennard and Melody.

Lennard is tinkering with his old-timer tractor; he has an old Fordson which he has renovated, and now he brings it to old-timer meetings and plowing competitions. There is always some work with it, but today it is simply maintenance he is doing.

While Lennard takes parts apart to clean them up, I handle the grease gun and a cleaning rag. Meanwhile, we talk about the party tonight.

"Have you been invited?"

"Nah." Lennard shrugs. "I didn't expect anything, and anyway, I don't think I would have gone, even if I was invited; you know I'm not into those things. But what kind of item are you going to take with you?"

"I first thought of bringing an inner tube of a tractor rear wheel," I tell him, "but I don't want to be seen as an oaf. So instead, I will bring my surfboard. I wonder what is going to happen; I guess it will stay outside, but probably there will be a moment when they are going to take pictures of us with the attributes."

"Are you going to wear your wetsuit?"

"No!?" I'm kind of offended that Lennard even suggests such a thing. He knows they had mentioned Speedos, and I do think I can wear it well; why not? I do think I could gain bonus points from Courtney by wearing my Speedo, and if she is wearing the type of bikini I'm thinking of, it could give rise to some interesting pictures.

The image of Courtney in a bikini is enough to give rise to something else. I hope Lennard doesn't notice.

"It's cold outside!" he brings in.

"I will put on my tracksuit for cycling, just take it off before I get there, and I will also bring shorts and a Hawaii shirt in case I do stand out."

"Did you hear something more about the occasion for the party?"

"No, I haven't seen anyone since Friday."

I'm not going to speculate with him about the occasion and Lennard probably understands, bringing his attention back to his machine.

***

"Where is Melody?" I ask, when, after more than an hour, she still hasn't shown up. Normally she checks us out as soon as she sees me coming. "I hope she isn't ill from yesterday?"

"Probably hiding in shame," Lennard scorns. "Rightly so; I'm also really ashamed of her."

"It's okay," I reply lighthearted. "You know I do like her and I actually feel flattered that she gave it a shot. It's just not the right moment now."

"Maybe we should go inside for a drink then," he suggests. "If it's really okay for you to face her, I mean. I think she is seriously fretting about yesterday."

"I do feel sorry about that. I hope you haven't been too hard on her?"

"I really didn't have to," he grins sardonically. "It was hard to overtop her embarrassment."

***

"Hi Melody," I say when we enter, and give her the normal kisses on the cheek. Normally it is she to take the initiative—I'm not really that kissy-kissy—but I guess this is the best way to show her that we are still okay.

"Hi Steve." Her voice is soft and insecure. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, but how are you?"

Melody's face turns red. "I'm okay, but I don't deserve it."

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