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.
He took the bar of soap and started washing me, running his fingers through my fur as he did so. His dick was wiping me now more frequently. He didn't have a hair on his body, and had the barest of pubes. Swipe swipe it went, wiping me. The tip was wet. He was wiping his lubrication off onto me.
He almost moaned loudly as he ran his soapy fingers between my furry ass cheeks. I didn't want to get hard, but I did anyway. Mine pointed towards the sky. His was so heavy it was just perpendicular. He made it a point to touch his dick with mine. Sword fighting, I think they call it. He was being very very gentle as he washed my muscular brick of a bod.
Then he knelt down to do my legs, my cock inches from his face as the water cascaded down me. Carefully and gently he washed, doing one leg and a foot, then the other my dick brushing his head now and then as he moved around. I could feel his breath on me, and especially on my dick. He finished, and stared at my dick. Then he did it.
He took my dick into his mouth, wrapping his lips around me, swirling his tongue on the head of my dick as he slowly started to bob, bobbing until he his nose almost hit my furry pubes. He moaned loudly. He steadied himself by putting his hands on my ass cheeks, and slowly bobbed, patiently, using his lips and tongues until I knew I was going to blow. I put my fingers in the wet curls of his blond hair, and I pumped twice, and shot my load. He sucked it up and ran my dick around his lips, coating them with my residue.
He shakily stood up. I've never seen a dick more massively erect on a man before or since. He put one hand on my shoulder, and the other on that massive rod and stroked it a few times and then started hurling huge wads out the tip of that massive head, across the deck, splattering six feet away on the side of the shed. Three or four huge wads emerged, then they slowed down to lots of dribbles. His hand was squeezing my shoulder tightly. He groaned as we stood there in the late afternoon sunshine, water still cascading down our bodies.
Embarrassed, he started cleaning himself. His dick had become somewhat flaccid. It had started to droop a bit and two more thick drops of juice oozed out. From somewhere, he found his trunks and hastily put them on. See ya, he said, and he was gone.
* * *
When I arrived the next morning, the place had emptied. A note said they'd be away for a few days, and oh, here's your instructions. It was still sweltering, and the horses needed working. No rest for the weary. There was no Reg for the next two days. Temperatures continued to soar, and I rode and ran the horses, taking care of all eight as best I could. They seemed happy. It was drenching work. Yeah, the pay was good.
On the third day, Reg arrived alone in his huge Lincoln. He looked happy to see me, but had his own chores to do. The landscaper came and left, and afterwards, I went to eat some lunch. Reg was by the pool, swimming as he did, incessantly. I watched from about fifty feet away as he finished his laps and with two hands, pulled himself out of the pool. I might have dropped my sandwich. He was totally naked. There was that big dick, flopping around as he walked to the deck chairs and took a swig of something.
