Kara sat on the fence post her skirts bunched around her. The sun hung over the ranch, casting a shimmering light of radiant heat across the fields as the day's work drew to a close. The heat hadn't let up yet even though the sun was lower in the sky. But Kara knew the workers would be calling it quits soon. It's what she had waited on since this winter. Kara slid from the fence, her hands resting on the weathered wood, her gaze drifting toward the bunkhouse where the ranch hands would soon return.
Kara had grown up on this land, every inch of it familiar to her, but it was the hidden spaces, the secret corners, that still held a thrill. Since graduating high school a year ago, her days had blurred into a routine of chores and responsibilities, the ranch her entire world. Yet, she yearned for something that stirred her blood and quickened her pulse. It was 1948 and while her future likely involved marrying a man to have kids and run the home, she hadn't found him yet. For now, she had her dreams of what it would all be like. Her mom was constantly trying to set her up with every young guy at church, but they were all stupid boys. She longed for a rough man. A man like the ranch hands that worked the farm in the summer.
The ranch hands had arrived yesterday. Just like they always did at the beginning of June. When the days started to cook the land. They'd piled into the bunkhouse. Nine hearty workers. Most she had known since her childhood, other ones added in the past few years, and one new guy in the bunch this year. Upon her parents request, she'd spent the entirety of her day yesterday making sure the place was clean before they arrived, and had just finished when they came pulling up in two rickety trucks.
Kara glanced at the bunkhouse again, her heart racing with anticipation. She knew the men would be back from the fields soon. As today was their first day in the fields. She anticipated their return, their bodies glistening with sweat, their muscles tired but powerful. She had discovered her hiding spot over the winter, a narrow gap between two walls of the bunkhouse. It was tight, just wide enough for her slender frame, and from there, she had a perfect view of the men's showers.
The men's shower was not really anything but a lean-to with a row of shower heads along one side. It was open at one end with a pony wall blocking anyone walking past the bunkhouse's view. The place was old and her tight spot was on the backside of the bunkhouse. The side nearest the overhanging trees. This made it easy so she could slip in without anyone noticing. Inside her gap the wooden boards were old and worn, the gaps between them just large enough to see through. It would be her private theater, a place where she could indulge her curiosity of men. Outside of the male animals of the farm she had no idea what a nude man even looked like.
At precisely five o'clock, she left the fence and strolled purposefully across the field to the lone structure at the forests' edge. She slipped into the space, her dress catching on the rough wood as she squeezed through. She adjusted her position, careful not to make a sound, and peered through the cracks. The shower room was empty, the air thick with the scent of soap and damp earth. She waited, her breath shallow, her pulse pounding in her ears. The ranch hands would be here any minute, and she was ready.
The first man to enter was Jake, a tall, broad-shouldered brute with arms like tree trunks. His shirt was soaked through, clinging to his chest, and as he peeled it off, Kara's eyes widened. His torso was a map of lean muscle, his skin bronzed from hours under the sun. He stepped out of his overalls, revealing a pair of tight, worn knit underwear that hugged his thighs. Kara's cheeks flushed as she watched him kick them aside, his body fully exposed. His cock was thick and heavy, hanging low between his legs, and she felt her own body respond, a wetness spreading between her thighs.
Next came Tomas, a younger hand with a wiry frame and a mischievous grin. He stripped quickly, his movements fluid and confident. His body was leaner than Jake's, his chest dusted with dark hair that trailed down his stomach to his groin. Kara's gaze lingered on his cock, smaller but nestled between two oversized balls, which made his whole gential look like a bird in a nest. He caught her eye through the crack, and for a moment, she froze, her heart pounding. But he didn't seem to notice her, his attention already on the showerhead as he turned it on.
The room filled with the sound of running water, the steam rising as more men entered. There was Henry, the oldest of the group, his body weathered but still strong, his graying chest hair a stark contrast to his tanned skin. He was like an uncle to her, so it was weird to see him as he stripped down and went to stand across from her eye hole his veiny member thin and long.
Then came Miguel, a relatively newcomer with a lithe, athletic build, his tanned skin glistening under the water. His face was handsome, something she noticed yesterday and as he disrobed she found the rest of him matched his handsome face. His cock reminded her of a sausage recently stuffed in the casing. It hung long and thick. Proudly larger than all the others before him.
Luis, Peter, and dark skinned Naveed came in next. Each stripping quietly and taking their spots. All three were of average build and their cocks we're of similar size. The only oddity she saw in them was the amount of hair Peter had all over his body. Thick plumes of it across his shoulders and back. She cringed at his hairiness and pulled eyes back to Migul and Jake, whose cocks made her heart race.
