It's been a busy summer in the stables, and my sex life sort of went downhill because of it. Then it all changed.
I manage the stables, horses, vet care, and the dirty work. We were over capacity and the stress was tough. The guy that manages equipment for the farm, Ocho, is my usual source of cock. He got laid up with a back problem. Had to leave for recuperation and PT. Ouch. Insurance covers the whole thing, but does not cover his sex needs. Or mine.
It's not all bad. There's one horse owner that likes to role play, and we ride out into the arroyos and usually, he plays submissive and is a total bottom. Makes millions a year, I'm guessing, and is truly delighted to be boned by a cowboy way out there, bent over naked, getting railed by a big dick in the High Rockies sun. OK, it's fun. He does have a nice ass.
But that was pretty much it for sex. I was aching to get to Denver so I could get on some app and have a wild time, or several wild times strung together. Didn't look good. Worse, the old boss got fired and a new guy came in and of course, had to be trained. Clueless. Brad was just out of business school and had an actual degree and had raised horses.
The owners didn't realize that Brad is actually managed by his wife, the hot-to-trot princess named Kathy. OK, Queen Bee. Doesn't bother me, really. She's an artist at amplifying her assets and likes to get what she wants. She wanted Ocho until he busted his back. Then she tried me, but I'm famously more attracted to dick than pussy. Our ranchers live down the road and are happily married with four boys, so that's not gonna happen.
I finally had a three day weekend planned to hit Denver and Grand Junction and just be a total slut. I'd been to a rodeo and had some good times with some friends recently, but I needed some major man sex. I wasn't going to be too picky. Quality was good, but I was making up for quantity. I didn't have big expectations.
All the ducks were in a row, and I was looking forward to that weekend when it was announced that there was going to be an addition to the stables, and it has to happen before Winter, and I had to tell the construction crew and architect a plan to move everything around while they worked.
This involved a bunch of people. And they were meeting on the Friday I had planned to leave. Brad said he'd make it up to me. I was powerfully pissed. They DO pay me well, so I shutup about it.
Several trucks and a car arrived. The architect was a pro. Had his stuff mocked up on a PC in some app. The construction crew leader already had his bill of materials. The heavy equipment guy was on my radar. Stud. Thick guy, my height and weight, and hiding a big dick in his jeans. Looked me over several time. Ping. Ping.
We had a ranch dinner served by the Queen Bee, Kathy. She was salivating over the architect. Everyone was going to stay over in the big lodge. I wondered if she'd sneak in his room and ball his brains out. I shrugged. She was hovering around him a bit. Vincent, the heavy equipment guy, wanted another tour of the site as it got dark. Sure, I'd do it!
We left. He fired up a fat stogie and we walked to the stables.
"'You actually want a tour," I asked, "Or were you just trying to get out of there?"
He stopped and looked at me. "I had to get outta there. Damn woman was almost on his fucking lap."
I nodded.
"Want a tour of the stables? Inside?" I asked.
"Can I smoke in there?"
"You can do anything in there...." I let that linger.
"Yeah, man. Check it out." Off we went!
I showed him my sugar shack, then the stables. I sort of lingered by the shower stall, conveniently arranged for many things, including: Sex. Yes, there was a shameless bottle of well-known sex lube up on the shelf. He couldn't have missed it. He half-smiled at it when he noticed. No dummy, this one.
We walked from there to the industrial washer/dryer combo. There was a yard stick on the table. He picked it up.
"Whaddya measure with this?"
I paused for a second.
"Your dick if you wanna." This big smile comes over his face.
"It's been a while, but I'm game if you are."
"Whip it out." I challenged him, and took the yard stick out of his hand.
He sort of blushed. "I'm a grower, not a shower. Might need help."
I was out of my clothes in a flash, half-boned already while he took off his shirt. We tossed our clothes on the table. Yep, sort of small, but his was growing fast.
I was naked first, so I got down and sucked on him. Got BIG fast. He sat back on the table and I got his boots and socks. Yeah, big old dick. Fuck yeah. I throated him and he grabbed the edge of the table as I did. I licked his furry balls and he moaned loudly. Yeah. It wasn't a romp in the big city, but I'll take it.
He was leaking pretty hard, then he stopped me. He took the yard stick and handed it to me.
"Hold still."
Let's see. Measured topside, seven and a half inches. Bottom side, add another solid inch. Before I could put the stick down, he wanted to measure ME. Sure!
I stood back and he got off the table. He bent down and sucked my dickhead several times. Nice. Turning, he grabbed the yardstick.
"Oh fuck, eight and a half!" he says. Then he measures the bottom side.
"Whoa. Just about ten inches to the top!" I smiled. Genes are a great thing where you can find them. I gloated.
