Date: Fri, 4 Apr 2008 14:53:01 -0500
From: tom jacobson <rowdster2006@hotmail.com>
Subject: on the ranch - chap. 1 - rural gay

Life on the ranch has always been a lifelong dream of mine.
 
I've grown up in the rural South, which has now turned into
the not-so-rural south, at least where I am.  What started as
a wonderful place to grow up on the weekends when we were
visiting my grandparents, has now almost turned into a place
of my own.
 
I'm now in my mid-30's, recently divorced, and with no kids. 
Having grown up comfortably in Atlanta, I was incredibly
lucky to have my grandparents live on a good size farm not
even two hours from the city.  As such, all through my early
years and teenage years, we had a place to go to experience
the country life.
 
And I liked the country life.  A lot.  I was always a kid who
loved the outdoors, and the opportunity to visit family and
be able to explore the pastures, countryside, and lakes, was
one that was not lost on me in the least.
 
My brothers were always the ones to go riding on our
minibikes, but me, I was the one who wanted to go exploring
through the creeks and go fishing in secret spots that I
discovered, or had my grandfather reveal to me. 
 
He knew I was the one who really wanted to be out here, and
he doted on me, and made sure I experienced all the little
things my older brothers never had an interest in.  I've
known since I was real little that I wanted to be out here
one day.  But little did I really know that all the decisions
I made would one day bring me out here.
 
It wasn't underhanded, and I recieved no special treatment,
except to make sure that I was able to experience everything
that gave both my grandparents the pleasure of being out
here.  They knew that one day I would take over their legacy
out here, and it is one I am proud to do.
 
Teenage years gave way to college years, and upon graduation
I made a conscious decision to be close to the farm, because
it was that important to me.  Of course, there were plenty of
perks to grow up out here as well, especially growing up.
 
My first sexual experience came about as a direct result of
my being out here, and believe it or not, it was with a ranch
dog we had out there, who absolutely banged the crap out of
my ass after I started jacking him off.  But it was that
exposure to all the sex that went on among the cows and
horses that gave me my first lessons in the birds and bees.
 
Now, mind you, it was hardly an ongoing thing that I was able
to continually experiment with, but I started young, and with
a healthy appetite for it as I became a young teenager,
BECAUSE I was able to come out here.  I brought plenty of
friends out here to do all the things I was interested in,
and of course we did our share of experimenting.
 
But for the most part, with the exeption of some mutual
masturbation, and jacking the ranch dog and watching the
bulls and cows mate, it was a fairly straightforward
development.
 
But little did I know just how much those early experiences
really had on me.  Most importantly, it gave me the
independence I seemed to crave to do what I wanted to do,
instead of following the crowd and doing the same things
everyone else in jr. high and high school did.
 
I had my share of girlfriends in school, and once in college
things really boomed for me.  I guess I was one of those late
bloomers.  Not really one of the jocks, I still had many
friends, and no problems with "finding myself", or any of
that other crap.
 
But going off to college, I clearly came of age, and had the
rocks and testosterone to prove it.  Life was good, and for
the most part, with the exception of a couple of threesomes
with a couple of friends that were gang-banging a girl, I had
as normal a life as could be expected.
 
College gave way to graduation.  Work called, and just as I
thought, I found myself making my way out towards the family
farm to be near it.  Ultimately, I ended up settling down and
meeting a local gal in one of the small towns I lived, not
even an hour from the big city.
 
It was the best of both worlds.  I was living far enough out
in the country to be in the country, and near what was
important to me, and still be close enough to town where all
the action and business was.
 
But two years of dating, and planning for a family I thought,
then ended after 5 years of a dead end and then sexless
marriage.  What happened?  What happened to all of the nights
where we fucked like rabbits when we were dating?
Well, I'll tell you.  She sure as hell didn't think I'd kick
her to the curb after I gave her an ultimatum.  I sure had
the need and desires to be filled, even if she didn't.
 
It didn't matter anymore the reasons.  It was time to get
out.  And get out I did.  Divorce sucks.  That I'll tell
you.  Breaking up with anyone can and does.  Its just a hell
of a lot harder, and far more expensive, when you're married,
that's all.
 
But divorcing, and living, in a small town an hour from the
night life, can be even harder.  Here I was, 30 and alone,
but thankfully, happier than I had been in a long time for
having made the decision.
 
But I was alone, and in a small town with few alternatives.
 
Fast forward one year.  I'm still alone, but doing OK.  I've
had a few flings here and there, but am far from getting the
kind of satisfaction that I was always used to.  But throwing
myself into work, and into starting to run and be on the farm
for my last elderly grandparent, has helped. 
 
What changed was a chance encounter out on the farm that gave
me a whole new perspective on life.
 
I've always been the protective one out here, that much I'll
give you.  Some of us just know what we were born to
do.  Hell, parents and grandparents of big family farms just
PRAY for one of the kids to want to take over one day.  Well,
I'm that one.
 
Anyway, I've always been the one to spend the most time out
here.  As such, I'm all over this place on a daily basis,
from dawn till dusk.  And late one afternoon I was driving
out of the creek and through a heavily wooded treeline when I
spotted two people walking down the road towards me.  As soon
as they spotted me they bolted into the treeline.
 
I knew I wasn't seeing anything I thought I hadn't.  But I'm
not a jackass either.  Throw somebody off the ranch in the
wrong fashion and a gallon of gas and a cigarette later,
you've got a major problem.  I'm measured but firm.
 
As I pulled up into the treeline where I was sure I had seen
them jump into, I pulled to a stop.  As I scowered the
landscape I really couldn't see anything, but I KNEW they had
to be close.  So finally I turned off the engine to my truck
and started to get out.
 
Well, at that point they decided to give themselves up, when
they knew I had seen them and was prepared to go looking for
them.  Two young guys popped up out of a woodpile that I
never would have suspected they were hiding.  To my luck and
their credit, they came forward and said they were looking
for a local lake to go fishing on.
 
Both these guys were wearing camo BDU pants and t-shirts, and
each carried a fishing rod and gear.  They apologized
profusely, and said that they were back from Afganistan on
leave, and had found this lake on Google earth that looked
like a good place to fish, and were only trying to find their
way there.
 
Well, I knew better, but I had also been one of those guys
who jumped the fence to fish on a neighbors place because it
had such spectacular results.  I called them on the carpet
and said they KNEW they were trespassing on someone elses
property.
 
And at that point, I was propositioned for the first time in
my life by another guy ... and I fell for it.
 
I was no jackass, but was firm but friendly with them.  They
were very cool, and seemed to know that I could make things
tough for them.  But how I went for their line, and even
responded to it, still perplexes me to this day.  I'd never
been with another guy, but perhaps had thought of it.  Had
gone and done the whole typical family thing, till it all
came to an end one day.
 
These guys truly wanted to be sure they didn't get turned in,
even for such a minor infraction.  And they had to ask me. 
They HAD to ask me ... if there was ANYTHING they could do to
be sure they weren't reported.
 
Hell, all I was was a lonely divorce' who needed a little
relief, and how I came to form the words "maybe we can come
to a little arrangement ..." ... I'll never know.  All I know
is that when I did, these two strapping young bucks, easily
10 years my junior, just looked at each other and grinned. 
 
"We can take care of you".
 
And did they ever.
 
With that the seduction begun.  And it was begun on a most
willing participant.
 
The first guy was a fairly stocky guy who wasn't that tall,
but still had a well developed physique and dark, almost
dirty, hair (these weren't the buzz cuts of young recuits). 
You could definitely call him "cut" - some sort of a
weightlifter fanatic, I think.
 
His buddy was a bit taller, and far more lean.  Not blonde
hair, but sandy blonde maybe.  The "devious" one, if you had
to describe his look.  He was the one who did all of the
talking.  And my seduction had begun.
 
"We can do this for you", he said as he slowly approached
me.  How they knew I had never been seduced by a guy was
probably obvious as hell, but they knew opportunity when they
saw it.  They probably dive on guys like me - who are weak to
the temptations.
 
I didn't say anything.  What could I say?  I wouldn't have
known what to say if I had been studying for final exams.  My
"Italian" and my "German" were on me like they had done this
before - and enjoyed every minute of it too.
 
Both approached me while stripping off their shirts.  My
shorter Italian had pecs on him that I would have dreamed of
back in high school or college sports, and a six pack set of
abs that you could scrub ROCKS on to get them clean.  A true
gifted athlete, who took it seriously. 
 
My German, though, was the taller, lankier one.  Almost like
he hadn't quite grown into his frame yet (he just wasn't
older like me).  The confident, cocky one, who lived up to
his nature, as it turns out.  Neither could have been past 22
or 23, and both were specimens I would have loved to have
been at their ages as well.
 
As I was approached, I stepped hesitantly back against my
pickup.  My German was in front of me, confidently and
soothingly telling me that they would make sure I would enjoy
myself.  All the while reaching out to me and stroking me
around my shoulders and across my chest.
 
I shuddered and just closed my eyes. 
 
They knew I was hooked.
 
As my German friend slowly unbuttoned my shirt, his Italian
buddy came around my side and back - all the while slowly
stroking my shoulders and belly.  As I leaned back into him,
and my truck, I could have almost collapsed into his arms.  I
was totally in his control.  He wrapped his arms around my
waist, tantalizingly starting to slip his hand into my
waistband - slowly massaging me.
 
I'm being "held" from behind by an Italian stud, and slowly
stripped by a smooth talking German.  My heavy breathing was
all the encouragement they needed, as they proceeded.  My
jeans were ever-so-seductively unbuttoned, dropping my 20X's
to my ankles, and leaving me naked beneath my athletic grey
boxer briefs - now tenting quite prominantly to both their
satisfaction.
 
As "Blondie" slowly dropped the seam of my briefs, my Italian
stud was squarely behind me, and now rythmicly grinding into
my ass while both hands and arms enveloped my waist -
teasingly stroking my now-hard cock and cupping my heavy
balls.  This had been a long time coming.  No woman had ever
seduced me like this.
I could have woken up days later and never said a word - it
was THAT good.
 
And with that, my lanky German friend pinched my nipples, and
slowly tongued down my chest and through my small patch of
hair as he sunk to his knees, and directly on top of my now
rock hard cock.  These guys were pros.
 
I'm no slouch thankfully, but nothing a porn star would be
impressed by.  I'm 6"+, cut, depending on just how hard you
can get me, with some good girth.  But boy, I had to have
been sprouting major wood that afternoon.  But I love the
attention my balls get.  It turns me on more than anything
else, and I DID let my new friends know that - barely
whispering to "suck on my balls".
 
And as my dirty-haired blonde friend sunk to his knees, and
inhaling my testicles, his Italian friend did sneak around
and start going down on me in words that can only be
described as "liquid velvet".  Ungh!  I couldn't have even
described where I was, I was intoxicated that much.  I hadn't
even so much as seen as what either of these guys was
packing, and it didn't matter right now anyway.  They were
focused on ME, much to my luck and benefit!
 
With that, my German friend was under me, and now forcefully
probing his way under my balls and to my ass, while his
friend was starting to piston on my underserved cock with
abandon.  I could barely grip their arms or even the truck
behind me, as I was trying simply to steady myself.  My
sweaty balls and ass crack were an invitation after a long
day in jeans, and I can only tell you that my now-ex-wife had
NEVER gone there with such gusto.
 
I was putty in their hands and I rapidly reached my peak. 
All I could say is "Oh My God, I'm About to Cum!" over and
over again.
 
Greedy they were.  Weak was I.
 
Not a single rope of cum made it past the lips of the Italian
simply inhaling my cock, and the tonguing my balls and ass
were getting only intensified the jet velocity.  Quite simply
the most erotic experience I had ever had, and I would never
have even come close to anticipating such a knee buckling
episode.  I had to have cum and cum again, and it SHOWED.

"Are we good?" was the only question my lanky dirty blond
German friend asked me.  I could barely stand against the
side of my truck, as it was.  What could I say?
 
 
 
If you liked this story, then write and tell me so.  There's
more to this story.  It may be obvious that I've never
actually been with another guy, so I hope that this fantasy
was to your liking.  I'm vulnerable.
 
Tom
rowdster2006@hotmail.com