When pops told me we were going to get a seasonal hand for the summer I didn’t think a thing about it. A ranch in Montana generally needs seasonal help to keep going. Generally, if pop didn’t hire them himself (which he avoided) they were agricultural science students from the university, who worked summer “internships” with ranchers and this time it was no different.
Pops told me to go get “him” from the bus station in town and “be nice to the kid” as if I ever was anything different. I was kind of hoping for a cute girl, but that never worked out. The closest I came to a cute girl was a hefty thing studying natural resources. Her calves were as big around as my waist.
So I jumped into my old jeep, a CJ with holes in the floor and a hotwired horn that went off only when you used a screwdriver to touch the bolt head holding the steering wheel, and I headed into town. It wasn’t hard to find the kid, he was a tall, blonde guy with a backpack, skinny jeans, tennis shoes and no socks. Everyone was staring at him, he fit in so poorly. He was wearing a shirt that said “Barca FBC” on it and when he reached up to scratch his head in obvious confusion because of where he had found himself the shirt lifted up to show a trim and tanned belly and no belt on those skinny jeans.
Strange cat, I thought. I walked right up to him and held out my hand.
“You gotta be Gus,” I said.
“Gustav,” he said, his voice thick with a German accent. “I am Gustav.”
“Well, Gustav, I’m Jake,” I said. I took his slim hand in mine and shook it. It was limp, but warm and rather soft. No callouses on those hands, I’ll tell you right now. He was about three or four inches shorter than me, but I’m tall so I’m not saying he was short. But he was at least 60 or 70 pounds lighter than me from the looks of it. Trim, but not big like me.
“Hello Jake,” he said. His bright blue eyes smiled at me and his handsome face lit up. I could see he was happy to be saved from the bus station. He confirmed it as we jumped into my jeep for the ride back.
“They think I’m strange here, Jake,” he said, as we pulled along down main street.
“Ah, well,” I said. “You are a bit different.”
He laughed. “Ja-ja,” he said. “I can’t blame them.”
Gustav turned into quite the chatterbox on the drive back and he was full of questions about me.
“Tell me, Jake, did you play American football?”
I shrugged. “I played football, yep. Played at OSU but couldn’t quite make it as a pro so cowboyin’ it is.”
“You look like it,” he said. I glanced at him. “You know,” he said, “you have big muscles but you aren’t fat. I see your belly is flat, not with the, oh how do you say, uh…paunch.”
“Oh,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “Well…I…”
“I’m fascinated by American football players,” Gustav went on. “They are like supermen, you know? Like fucking supermen.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that!”
Gustav suddenly reached over and grabbed my upper arm with one hand. “Look! I can’t reach around this arm.”
I jerked my arm away from him. “Listen, uh, Gustav, man, you can’t, like, just grab people’s arms and say ‘reach around.’ It’s just not done, you know?”
He held both of his slim, girlish hands up and leaned back. “Sorry, Jake.”
We drove in silence for a bit. We were on a winding dirt road, passing through fences over cattle guards on our way to our property, where my cheap-ass pops spent his pennies on fence gates with wire loops not cattle guards.
Suddenly Gustav turned to me. “What does it mean, ‘reach around?’”
“Jesus,” I said under my breath. “Uh…shit, I don’t know,” I told him.
“It is something bad, no? You acted like it was something bad.”
“Well, I suppose it could be good depending on who you are and what you like,” I said, trying to hint the meaning without coming out and saying it.
He shook his head. I looked over at him. His blue eyes were staring at me intently, his face a study in concentrated listening. He bit his lip and I glanced away, gritting my teeth. He looks like a goddam girl, I thought. Maybe this is my cute girl seasonal help, I thought, and instantly my mind froze up. I shifted in my seat, suddenly angry.
“Okay, well, I’ll give it to you straight,” I said. “When a guy is fucking another guy a ‘reach around’ is when he reaches around”- I pantomimed reaching around and grabbing a dick to tug on – “and jerks his boyfriend off.”
Gustav blinked twice and then smiled. “Oh, shit, I know what that is,” he said, laughing. “How silly of me.”
“Yeah, silly,” I said. At that point Gustav seemed to figure out that I didn’t want to talk anymore. It also helped that he had to jump out of the jeep every fence line to open the gates for us as we got onto our property. Every time he did I would watch him sashay out there in his skinny jeans, his face open and happy. It was the adventure of his life.
—————-
Pops got Gustav to work right away…in the barn shoveling shit. Every day I would come home from working the fields and find Gustav sitting on the porch, covered in shit and sweat, but his face was still brimming with life and those blue eyes would meet mine and smile at me, as if he were happy to see me. I would nod and dip my chin in my chest and try to ignore him.
Every night he would crawl into bed in the small room in the barn and…well, I actually didn’t know what he would do because I slept in the main house. But there were times as I lay in bed at night when I would think, I bet that sonofabitch is running around our barn naked because it seems like the kind of thing he’d do. Then I’d see him in my mind’s eye, leaping about like a fairy, tiptoeing along the stalls, giggling like a school girl, his dick flapping about freely, his round ass wiggling invitingly. As soon as the stir would happen in my underwear I would shut that thought down.
Then one day pops asked Gustav if he knew how to ride a horse, to which he said, yes. So we saddled up a bay mare that was relatively docile, and put him on her. He could, indeed, ride. After he had learned how to neck rein and sit a western saddle, he actually proved himself to be a pretty good horseman.
So the next day I loaded Jack, my favorite horse, and the bay mare, Lucy, into the back of my dad’s old Jimmy 4×4 that he was too chintzy to ever replace, and we went out to one of the sections to move some cattle up to the summer range. Gustav couldn’t believe the horses stood in the bed of the truck, side-by-side, as we bumped along the dirt track.
He turned to me. “Yeehaw I’m going to herd cows!”
“The key is you have to be nice and easy,” I told him. “This bunch has an old momma who has been making this trek for years. As soon as she sees us, she’ll get moving along and all we have to do is trail ’em.”
“Got it,” he said. He looked at me, his eyes kind of wild. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the obvious excitement on his face.
“It’s not like the fucking movies Gus, okay? No yippeekiayay motherfucker and so on.”
“Got it,” he said. “I’m going to be a cowboy.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Well, not quite, but okay.”
We got to the parcel and sure enough, when the old cow saw us, she headed out toward the high ground. In typical cow behavior when the other cows saw her move they followed. I unloaded Jack and Lucy and we climbed aboard.
“Okay, Gus, so you just stay to the rear and I’ll go ahead and open the gate. We can switch off as we move up.”
He gave me a thumbs up and I did exactly as I said I was going to. We moved the herd the several miles to the summer range and by the time we got there the sun was high in the sky and burning hot.
“Time for lunch,” I said. There was a small stream nearby with some cottonwoods and some old dead logs. I had made many a fire on that spot, and the old ashes were still present. I had secured a pair of saddlebags onto my horse with our sack lunch in them and, jumping off Jack, I pulled the simple meal out, giving Gustav a sack. I pulled Jack’s bridle off and hung it on the saddle horn and Gustav did the same with Lucy. While the horses grazed we sat on the logs and ate.
At one point Gustav pointed at the ashes. “Is this an old Indian fire?”
“Nope,” I said. “I’m barely 1/18th Sioux on my mother’s side and I’m only 26.”
He blinked at me and then grinned. “Oh,” he said, simply. “Well, good, because, you know, I am no parts Indian and only 22. I would not want you to scalp me.”
He leaned forward, trying to catch my eye as I studiously ignored him. “Besides, you look like a cowboy, not an Indian. You have a, you know, very, uh…how do you say…rug handsomeness.”
“Rugged?”
“Ah, yes, my English is limited to biology, not flirting,” he said.
I looked over at him and for a moment our eyes met and I suddenly thought, shit, he WOULD want me to scalp him. I took a deep breath and wiped my mouth, clearing away nonexistent crumbs. I was just going to ignore the flirting comment.
“We should head back. Straight shot with no cows we’ll make it to the truck easy by about 3.”
“Jake,” Gustav said, suddenly serious.
“What.” I didn’t look at him.
“I am sorry.”
I sighed. “For what?”
“For being forward, for saying those things,” he said.
“Just fucking forget it and maybe not say those things anymore.”
“Okay,” he said.
Our ride back to the truck was silent. I was aware of every movement he made, though, every gesture. His ridiculous skinny jeans, tucked into a pair of boots borrowed off pops, his tight button down shirt with the European fit. At one point he forged ahead a little and stood in the saddle, shading his eyes against the sun. I clinched my jaw. He was holding on the horn, leaning forward a little, his back arched and his too-round ass staring me in the face. I felt that curious twinge in my crotch and looked away.
—————————–
Night time, after that first day on the range. I thought again of Gustav prancing about the barn naked, but this time I didn’t clench down on it and try to pull it away from me like it was a tick. This time I thought, I’m going to let this run it’s course, I’m going to let this go as far as it goes and then it’ll be over and I won’t think about it anymore.
In my mind, then, Gustav went from running about the barn naked to sitting atop Lucy naked, standing in the stirrups, leaning forward with his ass out. I could see his balls hanging between his thighs, I could almost feel the skin of those perfect globes of his in my hands. What would it be like to spread those cheeks and peek at the tight hole within? What about if I reached between those thighs and cupped those balls, gave them a little squeeze? Would he look over his shoulder at me and smile? Would those soft, full lips of his stretch over his white teeth as his blue eyes blazed at me with desire?
I sat up in bed suddenly, my cock hard as a rock.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I said out loud. I flopped onto my side, but my mind had become unhinged at that point. The second I lay silent my mind slipped back to the fantasy. Looking down into those blue eyes as my cock slid in and out of that soft mouth. Glancing over his blonde head to see his round ass sticking up, and bending over him to touch that ass.
In my fantasy, Gustav turned around, waving his ass at me. And I was listening to his heavily accented voice say, “Jake, you are so strong, you are like a superman. I want you to fuck me with your superman American football cock, your big, fat cowboy rugged cock.”
With a groan I exploded in my shorts. After it was done I lay back gasping, sweating, wondering how I was going to hide my cum crusted shorts from pops.
——————————–
We moved more cattle the next day and the next, but this time pops was with us so no silliness or shenanigans. Each night we’d eat dinner and then I’d run off into my bedroom and listen to music, read books. Gustav would watch me go, and I’d listen to he and pops talk before bed time.
Each night I’d have a ramped up fantasy. I was becoming feverish with it.
About a week later pops told me to take Gustav to the old line cabin to clean it up for haying season. He told us to take some fishing poles and get some fish while were at it. We jumped into my old jeep and headed out, me glowering and Gustav uncharacteristically quiet.
The drive was silent for the most part, as Gustav got out to open gates and I ignored him, until finally he turned to me.
“Jake, you must forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, just forget it.”
“I upset you,” he said. He shrugged. “I just…said stupid things. I am from Munich, yes? I could say these things to a handsome man I am attracted to in Munich, but in Montana, not so much.”
I stared straight ahead. So he was attracted to me. I blinked a few times and then I looked over at him. “I said don’t worry about it.”
He smiled at me and I found myself watching those oh-so-pliant lips stretch over those perfect, white teeth. “No, you said, ‘just forget it.’”
“Same thing, knucklehead,” I said and I gave a little laugh. We drove along slowly. Another gate came and he jumped out and ran up to it, almost gleefully. I could tell he was glad I wasn’t mad at him. When he got back into the jeep I scratched my head.
“Listen, Gus…Gustav, I mean…I, uh, I don’t mind you thinking I’m attractive. You just, uh, come on a bit strong.”
“Me? That was coming on strong? So maybe you like weak? Someone to carry in your arms? To pick up and hold tight?”
I shook my head. “Jesus Kee-rist,” I said under my breath, but I was trying to hold back a smile. Gustav laughed and reached out, punching my shoulder playfully.
“And I like that you call me Gus,” he said, suddenly serious. “It’s very American. And no one calls me Gus. I like that it is YOU who calls me Gus.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. I looked up and saw that I had stopped at the line cabin without knowing it. Funny how your mind wanders.
“We need to get to work,” I said, a bit hoarsely.
We jumped on out and got to work. Not that it was much work. It was rarely used, but often kept up, and it was a solid old log cabin that had been built at some point in the 1940s or so. The line cabin was on the side of a hill overlooking a fast moving river that came down out of the Shining Mountains. It was a beautiful scene to behold, the river surrounded by heavy thickets, the valley going up to snowcapped mountains.
We worked all morning as fast as we could. While we worked I regaled Gustav with stories about the trout in the river below. Finally it was swept, mopped, dusted and scrubbed and ready for the haying crews pops would hire. Gustav and I grabbed our fishing gear and went down to the river. I showed him how to get past the thickets, along a trail the cows used. At the edge of the river we stopped and I pointed at a rock outcropping on the other side.
“You a good swimmer?” I asked.
“Very good, of course,” he said determinedly.
“Well, here’s the deal,” I said as I put my rod and reel down. I pulled my shirt off over my head and hung it in a tree. Gustav watched me, his eyes wide. “We gotta swim to that rock on the other side. Then we gotta swim back.”
I pulled off my boots and then Gustav started to follow suit. His shirt came off, then his boots. It became a race to see who could get their clothes off first. Finally we stood in our underwear in front of each other. Gustav was looking at me, his eyes wide still, and I saw him bite his lip. I clenched my jaw, ordering up some self-control, but I couldn’t help but glance down his slim, muscular body. He wasn’t as heavily muscled as I am, but his stomach was flat, the six pack abs flexing as he breathed, and his long legs were smooth, almost hairless. In fact, he didn’t have much hair on his chest, either.
He was wearing a tiny pair of blue underwear and the bulge of his cock and balls was pretty goddamned easy to make out.
I turned around and grabbed the rod and reel. “Don’t forget the line,” I told him over my shoulder. “We gotta secure the trout on something.”
Gustav grabbed his rod and reel and the nylon line for the fish and we waded into the river. I took him along a rocky bar, that was about ankle deep, up stream. At the point where the rocky bar disappeared into a deep channel I turned toward the deeper part of the stream. Downstream was the rocky outcrop.
“Okay,” I said. “Wade in as much as you can and when it takes you start swimming like hell with one hand for the other side. It’ll try to take you past the rocks but you gotta fight it. Don’t lose your fishing gear!”
I headed into the deep water immediately, at about the point where the water hit my waist I felt it lift me up and pull me downstream. I struck out swimming as hard as I could, holding the rod and reel high out of the water, reaching out with the other hand in a sidestroke swim style.
I got to the first rock and grabbed it, hanging on. I felt a hand on my shoulder and it slid down my side until it got to my shorts. Fingers grabbed hold as the current carried him downstream. My shorts came off and I felt his arm wrap around my thigh in desperation. With every ounce of my strength I pulled my upper body onto the low rock I was hanging onto. I threw my rod and reel onto a higher rock and then reached back to grab Gustav.
He was hanging on for dear life, his head under water, but his one arm holding the rod and reel high and dry. I caught hold of his arm and pulled him up while simultaneously turning around to sit on the rock. I took the rod and reel and put them with mine, then grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up my body. Gustav climbed up me, his body sliding against mine, until he lay gasping atop me, his head against my chest.
“Mein Gott,” he breathed, his chest heaving. “Scheisse…I thought I would die.”
“Nope,” I said, “you’re alive.” I took a deep breath, looking down his body, down the slim back to that round bottom where his ridiculously tiny blue underwear. It was as I imagined it to be, two perfect, firm globes, not huge, but well-rounded, muscular. I felt the stirring again and started to move to push him off.
“Your heart,” he said suddenly.
“What?” I asked.
“It was so calm, like this was nothing and your breathing was calm…but now it beats heavily.”
I lay still as I could on the rough rock. I realized my own shorts were down around my ankles, which were still in the fast moving water. Gustav very carefully put a hand on my chest.
“You are very strong,” he said, almost whispering. He raised his head and looked up at me. I looked down at him and took a deep breath. His blue eyes were staring intently at my mouth and I watched the tip of his tongue dart out, licking his full, pouty lips. Jesus, he’s going to kiss me, I thought, and I waited for it to happen.
Gustav slid the hand on my chest up to my shoulder. He pulled himself slowly up my body and I felt the band of his underwear scrape my now throbbing cock. A part of my brain acknowledged the moment my shorts finally succumbed to the tug of the fast moving stream, but mostly I was staring at that beautiful mouth of his as he brought it nearer. He paused briefly, just before our lips met. I could feel his breath, sweet and warm. My hands, without direction from me it seemed, slid up around his waist and found the top of his underwear. There they staged, patiently waiting for the right moment, I suppose.
Then Gustav finally brought his lips to mine.
I held back, wanting nothing more than to thrust my tongue into him, to savagely rip his underwear off and fuck him like an animal. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to him, sliding my tongue into his mouth, feeling his tongue’s caress.
We kissed for a long moment and then he pulled his head up.
“You are big,” he said. “I mean, your cock. It’s hard.”
I squirmed a little and felt his own prick against my belly. “You too,” I said.
He nodded. “Are you uncomfortable? Does that rock hurt?”
I nodded. “I guess,” I said. I slid my hands down over his bottom and gave it a squeeze, both ass cheeks held in my hands. “I dunno,” I said.
Gustav bit his lip and smiled at me, arching his back and gyrating his hips a little as I caressed that perfect ass of his. “Well, Jake, let’s find a better place.” With that Gustav climbed up off me and scrambled up onto the higher rocks of the outcrop. I got up, admittedly a bit painfully, and followed him.
At the top he stood looking out over the river, smiling. “I think I see your shorts!”
I got to the top and looked but didn’t see anything. “I don’t,” I said.
He shrugged and turned to me, smiling up at me. “I’ve wanted you out of those shorts since I met you, so good riddance!” He suddenly reached down and pushed his underwear off then threw them into the river. “Now we are the same!”
I reached out and pulled him toward me, my body aching to touch his. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled himself up to kiss me. I grabbed his ass again, marveling at how taut and yet soft it was, and pulled him up against me, bringing him off his feet. His cock was pressing into my stomach, mine against his thigh. He lifted his legs up, wrapping his thighs around me as we kissed. I held him easily, my fingers kneed the flesh of his ass. He broke off the kiss and threw his head back.
“Meine Gott!! You are magnificent!” He reached behind and grabbed my left hand. Bringing it up to his face he took my middle finger into his mouth. I groaned as he sucked it. When it plopped out of his mouth it was slick with spit. He guided it back down and inched his body up mine, gripping me with his thighs, his face sliding against mine. I felt his lips against my ear. “Fuck me with it.”
I reached down and slid the tip of my finger between his ass cheeks, finding the indentation that was his anus. With a little push I was sliding in, my spit slick finger slipping easily into the tight warmth.
Gustav slid down now, lowering himself onto my finger. I lifted him with that hand, my finger going in deep. He gasped and gave my cheek a nip.
“For days and days I have cleaned myself for you,” he said. “And here we don’t have the proper lube.” With a sigh he lowered his legs. He grabbed my wrist and pulled my finger out. He held it up. “See? So clean!”
Suddenly he lowered himself to his knees in front of me. His hand wrapped around my prodigious erection and he waved it about in front of his face. “I would love to have this monster in me,” he said, “so this will have to do.” Without another word he engulfed my cock head with his mouth. I threw my head back, gasping as I felt his tongue rasp against the sensitive skin. One hand stroked my prick, the other slid under and cupped my balls.
I ran my hands through his soft blonde hair, gazing down into his blue eyes. It was better than I had dreamed, watching the thick shaft of my penis stretch his lips, his nostrils flaring with each ragged breath, his blue eyes gazing up at me softly, spit dribbling off the bottom of my cock and onto his chin.
“Oh my god,” I gasped. “I think I’m going to cum.”
He moaned, redoubling his efforts. His hand that cupped my balls slid up to my ass and I felt a finger slide between my ass cheeks to my anus. I arched my back, widening my stance, allowing that slim finger to slide into me. The feeling was incredible. My body tensed and I began to jerk as I shot load after load into his mouth. Gustav gobbled it up eagerly, although some of it spilled from his lips. He pulled back, watching the last bit of cum spew from the tip of my cock like slow, white lava.
Gustav stood up and smiled at me, my cum dripping from his wet lips. My chest was heaving and he wrapped his arms around me, gripping my ass with those smallish hands. I bent down, kissing his wet lips and tasting cum for the first time in my life. It was bitter, salty, but creamy. I thrust my tongue into his mouth and felt the heat of my cock still there. It drove me a little crazy. I pushed Gustav down onto the rock, which was smooth from millions of years of rain and wind, and warm from the sun. I lay next to him and ran my hand down his slim body, finding his hard cock easily as we still kissed.
Hungrily I moved my mouth down his body, sucking his small, hairless nipples, kissing his tight abs. His prick rose up from a trimmed bush, the balls hairless. I pulled the foreskin back and flicked my tongue over the pink head. Gustav gasped and I felt his hand on my head. He pushed me down and I went with it, taking that cock into my mouth.
I forgot everything I supposed I was in that moment. I didn’t think of anyone else but Gustav and his throbbing cock. I didn’t think of the girls I dated, the guys I hung out with, the “you’re so gay” comments when any weakness was shown, the manly art of manliness I had perfected for years. All I thought of was the bitter yet satisfying taste of precum that coated my tongue. All I thought of was the anticipation of his cum spilling into my mouth, down my throat, filling me up.
He spread his legs and I reached down to cup his ass with my left hand, lifting his hips off the rock to meet my bobbing head. His hand started to tug at my hair in unison with my movements, his hips began thrusting, fucking my face. He started moaning words in German and finally he thrust his hips up and pushed my head down. I swallowed his cock, feeling it enter my throat and my nose bury in the warm, musky skin of his sac, even as his balls disappeared into his body and he exploded.
A stream of cum shot into my throat and pulled back, gagging at the feel of hot man butter moving directly into my stomach. I pulled back enough to feel another shot of hot goo hit the back of my mouth. I opened wide and pulled back further, wanting to feel the stream, and the next shot hit my chin, then another splashing over my forehead. I coughed a little, a gob of his cum coming up. He fell back, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. I fell back as well, looking up into the blue sky and feeling the warm sticky goo on my face. A bit of it covered part of my eye. I reached up and wiped it away, plopping it in my mouth.
I looked over at him, watching his cock as it slowly receding with a rhythmic throbbing, an ooze of cum sliding from the tip. He turned and looked at me, his blue eyes smiling. I hung onto that look, I hung onto the sight of those lips, the slim body, the beauty of his male form.
I hung onto it because I feared what would happen if I let go.
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