I worked the stables. I'm also a farrier. Say it slow.
This is about Reg and his folk's farm, which is actually more like a resort with horses, and a half mile down the road from where I grew up.
His father was always flying some place, his mother oblivious, and tended to by the maid or the cook. His sister was always in town.... or somewhere else, anywhere else. Never here.
Life was quiet. Reg was easily bored. And so he'd come to the horse barns and watch me shovel shit, feed the horses, and groom them. At nearly seven feet tall, he had the body of a greek god. Curly blond hair atop blue eyes and a basketball player's body. Often, he'd swim in the tiniest suit I'd ever seen.
His dick inside that suit was big and I'm sure he knew that it was difficult to contain. Somehow, whenever I had to go to the house, he'd be there, sitting on one of the loungers, or walking around the pool. During the fall and winter, he'd be at the state university on the B-ball team. Late spring and summer, he'd be at the pool. Once in a while some of his friends would drop by. Visits were rare. I probably missed some. I had work to do.
Some afternoons, he'd walk from the pool to the horse barns and shoot the breeze. Everyone would be inside enjoying the air conditioning. I'd be shirt-off, sweating, grooming, moving hay bales, whatever. They paid me well. They never checked on me, or noticed that each day before I left, I'd strip naked behind the shed and shower myself off under the outdoor shower before I left for home.
I'd let the sun dry me for a minute or so, then get back into my boots and jeans, and make sure the stalls were ready for the night, and get in my ancient pickup truck and leave. I wanted to arrive home clean and not stinking of horse muck.
Then one day I noticed that I had a witness. Reg was watching me, maybe sixty feet away, around the corner of one of the barns as I showered. At first I didn't really believe it, but as I turned around, he was spying on me. I saw his tanned body twist away around the corner, then come back. For a week, even on the rainy day, he would spy on me. I figured he was bored.
The following Monday, he was out by the pool all morning, then disappeared. I figured he went into town. I finished my chores, and then got up on the deck under the shower head behind the tool shed to wash. This time, he turned the corner, just as the water turned warm enough. I got underneath and from nowhere, he turned the corner, still in his tiny racing trunks.
He just stood there in the open as I washed, doing my routine. Shampoo, soap, pits, body, butt, dick and balls, legs, feet. I occasionally glanced at him as I washed. The front of his trunks were about to burst open. His dick was huge. Stallion.
His arms were folded across his tanned chest as he watched and I washed. I turned and grabbed the soap and when I looked back, the huge tapered head of that beast had popped out of the trunks. Massive. Stud. I heard gravel crunching. A car was coming. He turned and left. I finished. No one ever came back behind the tool shed, ever.
I thought about that bod and wondered whether I was intrigued or not. I couldn't imagine that he'd be turned on by me, a foot shorter, and built like a hairy gorilla. Fur didn't seem like something that might be attractive. I'm sure I'm part Neanderthal.
For a few days, it rained and rained. The following Monday was sweltering. I did my chores again but hadn't seen Reg or anyone the entire time. The horses were bored and I ran them for a while. They got pretty muddy and it was work to get them cleaned up and groomed. It was a long damn day and I was ready for a shower. I stank. I stripped in the barn and walked behind the shed.
Reg was standing there, waiting for me. He was naked, and his dick was nearly hard and jutting away from his thighs, the tan line of his trunks made a huge contrast.
In a soft voice, he asked if he could wash me. No one's around, he said. Please? I may have smirked. I'm pretty sarcastic sometimes.
I thought about it. Why the hell not?
I got up on the deck and turned on the water. It would be a minute or so while the hot water raced from the tank. I stood there, naked in front of him. My dick might be eight inches. His was at least ten, and it was pointing straight at me, this huge monstrous phallus. The family jewels hung below that, two golf ball-sized testicles. Fucker was in heat. Stallions.
I stepped under the water. I grabbed for the shampoo but he stopped me. "I'll do it all," he said. He took his huge fingers and proceeded to work the shampoo into my hair was the sun cooked through us. His giant dick brushed me several times as he worked his fingers through my hair. I rinsed.
