When Coach Nelson told me to get a job I thought he was crazy. Between practice, workouts, and everything else, I didn’t think there was any way I could make it and still keep up with the rest of senior year. He told me back in the day that’s how everyone stayed in such good shape, or got there to begin with. He said farm work and farmers’ diets made the biggest and best of the old guys, and knowing how tight things were at home maybe taking in some cash and getting some free meals would be good for me even without the built in workouts. He said he knew this old lady at his church what could always use a hand, maybe two. Had a crippled son at home what couldn’t do the biggest part of the work and things were starting to get rough. I wasn’t keen on working for some old churchlady and her ornery cripped-up son but coach had never steered me wrong, and it’s not like I was gonna have a better opportunity. The first thing I realized pulling up that old dirt road was that some day, one day a long time ago, these folks were money. Their driveway felt like a mile long, gravel to start, off the road, but quickly turning to dirt. There were a few dips that would surely turn to mudpits at the first sign of rain. I didn’t know if that was exciting or frightening, considering my T-case was sitting at home getting rebuilt and I was gonna be stuck on two wheels for a while. Weren’t nothing covering the hole neither but a hunk of aluminum siding and some duct tape, so getting in mud-holes wasn’t on my list of priorities. When I pulled up, I was sure they were money, maybe a hundred years ago. The place was a longhouse, with a full-length front porch, and windows all along it. The plank siding was old and green in some places, most of the windows didn’t have shutters on em, but they were laying up against the wall like they was just waiting to be put back up. The glass was wavy and shimmered with imperfections, old glass, hand made. There was a glider and a hanging swing, and a rocking chair where the old lady was sitting. She looked like you’d have expected, a pretty, but old dress, faded from sun and wear and washes. Her spots were still as dark as ever, but her hair was greyed and her hands were wrinkled and tired. She was plump like almost all of those types of ladies are, cooking too much for too many other folks, full of sugar and lard and butter and ain’t never heard of a trans fat or a carbohydrate. She didn’t get up to greet me when I got up out of my truck and I don’t blame her. I still remember how bright and friendly her smile was that first day, felt like sunshine and a warm breeze on a cloudy day. Gemma Henshaw didn’t waste any time putting me to work, not that I really expected her to. Hill folk work hard and they expect their folks to work just as hard for ‘em, and being a big, hard red bull from working stock, they’d expect every bit of it from me. She told me Garet would be in the barn and that’s where I ought to go and I went. Didn’t know what I figured a cripple’d be doin’ in there, but I didn’t expect him to be throwing around them bags of cedar shavings like he was. Looking up at him, you’d think he was an old man, but nobody’d ever took the time to sit him down and tell him. He was still fit, his arms were almost as thick as mine which was damn impressive for a dog. He had some grey around his muzzle, and salt and pepper in his short hair, but that was the only thing that showed his age. And, looking up at him, you’d think he was a cripple, but nobody seemed to have ever sat him down and told him. He was sitting on a sack of shavings throwing the rest down, an empty chair sitting in the middle of the barn under him. There was a knotted rope hanging from the ceiling where you’d think a ladder should have been. I don’t remember what dumb thing I said to him first. Maybe “How’d you get up there,” or something like that. When he showed me I realized how his arms had got so thick. Climbing and descending overhand that rope, upper body strength alone, obviously. Told me I’d get used to it after awhile, but that wasn’t true. I still ain’t gotten used to it, actually. Arms burn like hell at the end of a day, but I guess that ain’t here nor there. I never felt quite as weak as I did at the end of that first day. Had to shed my shirt less than an hour into it, soaked through and weighing me down. I don’t know if Garet sweats at all or if he just never gets tired, but he always took it in stride. That first day he showed me the creek what runs up through the woods behind the house, and the all of fuzz in my memory starts to clear. ------------------------------------------------------------------ “Water’ll be cool right about now. Take a swim, let your clothes dry on a rock or something.” Garet said in his thick drawl, driving his big, heavy wheelchair over the rough, travel-beaten path with surprisingly little effort. “Go home smelling like fresh laundry, your mama’ll appreciate it.” He stopped where the muddy bank started, keeping his wheelchair on the dry, at the very least. Danny, the red bull, grunted in agreement, too exhausted to contribute to conversation. His shirt already off, he threw at a half-dead tree to hang and dry. His shorts came off quickly and found their way onto a dry rock, that had direct sunlight. He walked behind a thick bush to take his boxers off, and threw them onto the rock as well before taking a running jump into the fairly deep creek. “Afraid you got something I ain’t never seen before?” The old dalmatian hollered to the young bull as he let himself float for a moment, his chest and face only barely. Dan wasn’t really paying attention, just heard the voice through the water in his ears, and he laid still in his relaxed state. “Huh?” He grunted out as he opened one eye and turned his head to face his new boss, and froze for a second, floating in place. The dalmatian himself had already made it to down to nothing, his clothes laid on his chair and sitting on his thighs. His stomach wasn’t a washboard like the bull’s was, but it was flat and looked firm, and his chest was as thick and powerful as you would ever see. He moved up onto his hands and swung himself into the water, moving with an obvious amount of practice on his hands and what was left of his legs. The bull’s eye couldn’t help but travel the dog’s body, and be drawn to a very healthy looking sheath and low, large balls bouncing as he moved. His gaze didn’t break until he dipped below the water, having stopped kicking and paddling. Garet laughed at the bull as he went waist-deep in the water, stopping at navel level and leaning back on his elbows. “You falling asleep out there, boy? Dunno if I could drag you back to the bank if you did, maybe you oughtta come back to the shallows!” He laughed, teasing the younger male as he flailed to regain his purchase in the water. “Real funny, Mr. Henshaw.” As he felt his hooves hit the bottom he righted himself, floating upright with his arms out. “I can swim just fine myself.” He couldn’t look anywhere near Garet’s face, his eyes looking around from the chair, to the woods, the rocks, anything accept him. Looking at his face led to his chest, looking at his chest led to his stomach, looking at his stomach led to the brown water lapping at his sheath and… He was staring at it again without realizing it, no matter where he looked away to his eyes always darted back to that anchor. “Is it that impressive, Dan?!” Garet laughed, moving one of his hands to fondle himself, plumping his balls up and squeezing his sheath. “‘Brother’ Nelson told mama you was a football player! Ain’t never seen another fella’s tackle before?” He said “Brother” with a kind of lazy derision, devoting most of his trouble to teasing the bull. “Y-yeah! It ain’t anything special, got a couple of horses on the team that makes it look like a toothpick. ‘Specially as pointy as dogs’re.” Dan said, swimming in another direction, trying to hide how embarrassed he was, trying to hide the pink in his ears. “Ooooh so you spend a lot of time checking out the other fella’s tackle, then?” Garet said, still laughing, teasing the boy. His voice suddenly turned very flat, and serious. “Y’ain’t queer or something are ya?” It didn’t sound like a threat, but like a real question, not the ribbing and poking that it had been before. Still, alone in the woods, with an older man he barely knew and his new boss, no less… Dan turned to answer Garet’s question, but was silent. As his eyes came around, they caught the bright red of a canine cock, a large, rough hand wrapped around, pumping the thick nine inches of glistening flesh. His mouth fell open, and he felt his stomach rise in his throat. The truth was, he’d never done anything with anyone, though he’d had plenty of opportunities. Girls and boys both had tried to entice him onto them, but they couldn’t get a rise out of him. He never knew why, and he had tried not to think about it. But now, faced with this, for the first time he felt himself stirring, along with fear, anxiety, a little bit of shame, he felt aroused. He felt like he was being offered something that he had wanted for a long time, and hadn’t known it and still didn’t know exactly what it was. “A-are you?” He asked quietly, like he suspected someone was listening, that the whole team and his coach and his Vacation Bible School troup were hiding in the bushes waiting to jump out. “Come here, Dan.” Garet said. It sounded like an order in Dan’s ears. The bull waded through the water toward Garet slowly, hesitantly. Dan crawled up onto the beach beside the dalmatian, rather than coming straight up his body. He wanted to do that, his eyes trapped by the hypnotizing bright red, and as he leaned onto one arm, on his side facing Garet, his gaze was still trapped. Dan felt a strong hand on one of his horns, and his face was suddenly forced to face the canine’s, forced to look him in his light brown eyes that looked to smolder now, that made him feel like he wasn’t in control, that he had to listen to this man. “You’ve got real pretty thick lips, Dan.” Garet pulled him in pressed their lips together, kissing the bull for the first time. The first real time anyway. The first time Danny had ever tasted another person’s mouth, felt their tongue against his, felt completely wrapped in someone. He lowed as he shut his eyes, surprised and still a little frightened. His own cock began to peek from its sheath but he couldn’t notice, the strong hand on his horns and the thick muscle exploring his mouth doing a good job of distracting him. Dan’s hand found it’s way to Garet’s chest, cupping one of his pecs and holding it, keeping himself steady as the dalmatian pulled their bodies closer together. Garet fell back, and holding Danny firm, pulled the bull down on top of him. Their manhoods pressed against one another, hot, throbbing, slick. Danny pre’d against the dalmatian’s chest from that slightest squeeze, and Garet’s free hand reached down to take their lengths together and stroke them slowly. “Mm-ah~” Garet broke the kiss, holding the bull’s nose to his own. “I think I got something better for those nice lips of yours, Dan.” Dan panted, his eyes opening again and staring sleepily. He didn’t resist as the dog’s hand on his horns pressed his muzzle against his chest, and guided his body slowly down. Garet didn’t sweat much. He’d lived there too long, been to acclimated, worked too hard too much to be worn out this quick. Dan’s tongue fell out of his mouth, he didn’t do it on purpose, but he licked along everywhere that Garet moved him. He had a taste, salty and bitter, but not too strong, and something about it made Dan hungry in the pit of his stomach. As Dan felt the heat radiating against his chest, that tip dragging against his own pecs, he [i]needed[/i] to know what it tasted like, what it would feel like in his mouth. As it rested finally on his chin, he was scared again, his hunger overcome by his anxiousness. “I-I haven’t done this be-” Garet didn’t wait for him to finish. He pulled the bull down onto his cock mid-sentence, taking his horns in both hands and just letting the first half rest in his muzzle. “I know you haven’t~” Garet cooed, looking the bull in the eyes. “Just hold it in your mouth for a minute, get used to the taste~” He growled in the back of his throat, a happy smile coming across his muzzle as his cock throbbed against the bull’s tongue. Dan lowed again in surprise, but it only made Garet groan more as it vibrated through his shaft. The bull’s eyes shut tight as he took in this first taste, the same as the rest of his body but somehow different, more intense, almost spicey. The heat radiated in his maw, he never thought it would be this hot. And as Garet lifted his head up slowly, Dan did something no one else had ever made him do. He moaned, honest and truly from the pit of his stomach, he moaned out as that slick, throbbing meat drug along his tongue and the overwhelming taste of another man filled his mouth and nose. “Attaboy, Dan~” Garet continued, talking through moans of his own as he started to pull the bull’s maw back down again, bobbing his head on that cock. “Loving every second of it, aren’t you?” Dan just closed his eyes as his ears burned a bright pink. He would have been lying if he said no, and so he didn’t answer, as his hands snuck down between his legs, under the water, to stroke his own cock. He tightened his lips around Garet’s shaft and started to suck on it in earnest, as jets of pre began hitting his tongue and he found he was not at all averse to the taste. His tongue, long and powerful and nimble as bovines’ are, wrapped around Garet’s shaft and squeezed it as his head was bobbed, offering no resistance to the control of his hands whatsoever. But Garet’s hands had released the bull’s horns minutes ago, and for a while had rested on the beach beside him. He was well pleased with how fast Dan had taken to it, sucking him down to the knot and bobbing his head on his own with enthusiasm. “For someone who’s never done this before you suck dick good, boy…” He put one of his hands on the back of Dan’s head, holding him down at the knot. “I’m gonna cum… Wrap those fat lips around my knot and suck hard…” Dan didn’t react, because he knew what was coming, somehow. Garet pushed him down, making him take that knot into his mouth, and he let him, sucking his lips around the base as tight as he could and tongueing at the shaft, trying to prepare himself for what was about to come. Garet’s hips bucked slightly as he got closer, and closer, and his growls got louder and deeper. Dan felt the knot swell against his lips and a strong pulse, like water running through a hose, before his mouth was suddenly filled with burning hot, thick, sticky cum, the taste more intense than anything he’d tasted before. He gagged and choked and sputtered, spilling a fair bit out all over Garet’s crotch, and a lot over his own mouth and face. He looked up at Garet, panting and lips dripping with seed. “S-sorry… I got choked… I-I’ll swallow it next time.” Garet just smiled, and smiled big, that he didn’t have to tell him. He hadn’t met such a natural in his whole life, let alone one that was actually built like a man. “That’s fine… You did amazing…” he said between his own panting breaths. “Have you cum yet?” He asked, running his fingers through Dan’s chestnut colored mane. The horse shook his head, and garet gave his mane another tug. “Stand up. I’ll take care of you.” With some guidance from Garet, Danny found his way to his hooves. He was longer, but being a bull nowhere near as thick as Garet was until he got to the base. Garet sat up between Danny’s legs and started to nuzzle his cock, his tail wagging behind him. “Glad to see you’re having fun…” He said before dragging his long, wide tongue across the bull’s low-hanging, smooth-skinned balls. One of his hands gripped Dan’s shaft, and the other stroked over his toned ass, rubbing from his perineum up to his tail. His middle finger sunk a little deeper between Dan’s cheeks with every pass as his tongue washed over those balls, and his hand pumped that long pale pink prick. “MMmmm~” his fingertip touched Dan’s hole, and he jumped a little but stayed still enough. “A-are you gonna-” “Not today~” Garet interrupted. “Just gonna explore a bit…” He said, pushing his fingertip into the bull’s ass suddenly, making him low out loudly, and taking one of the hefty balls into his maw to suck it roughly. Both of the bull’s hands gripped Garet’s head, his cock flexing like mad against the pumping, stroking fist and his virgin hole clenching tight around the intruding finger. With a loud pop, Garet popped Dan’s ball out of his mouth and took the other one in, his tongue washing all over it as his finger pulled out, and popped back in, taking a slow, gentle rhythm. “M-Mr. Henshaw-” Dan lowed, his hips bucking against against the finger in his ass, or the fist around his cock, or both.. “I’m gonna!” He moaned out, before letting out a long, loud, deep low and spraying a long, powerful jet of cum over Garet’s shoulder and into the woods. Garet popped off of his other ball with a smile and a powerful tailwagging as cum dripped down his paw, and that pretty pale pink hole spasmed around his finger. Once the spasming and twitching died down, Garet pulled away removing his finger, releasing Dan’s cock, licking the cum off of his hand almost hungrily. “I think you’re gonna like spending the off-season here, Dan.” Garet said, giving dan a rough smack on the ass. “Now, go take another dip and wash off, mama’s setting a place at the table for you to so be cleaned up for supper.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I don’t know how I made it through that dinner, to be honest. I don’t remember much of it. I couldn’t look Mrs. Henshaw in the eyes for weeks after that, though. ‘Course, me and Garet didn’t stop. I don’t think I coulda if I wanted to, not that I wanted to. He made me feel like I’d never felt before, showed me a part of me I thought was broken worked just fine and after being without for so long. And, it seems weird, maybe just growing up nowadays, when it seems like everything goes, but… it never felt wrong. It always just felt like I was doing what came natural to me, and no matter what folks say, I can’t think there’s anything wrong with that. TO BE CONTINUED