Feeling Randy's Balls

I laid on my bed, sucking in Randy's angular, naked form. I stroked my thick, veiny cock with increasing urgency as I gratefully eyed his muscular shoulders, arms, hairy pecks, and trim, lean waist.

From the time he had hired on at my ranch, I felt a special attraction toward this beefy, six footer. Maybe it was his quiet and lonely nature. Careful as I always had been not to reveal favoritism towards the bunkhouse crew, Randy was strong, yet seemed equally vulnerable. He was drawing me in.

Hesitating, the way he did between words, one might well conclude that Randy was just 'dull'. His steel blue eyes, however, absorbed me with their sureness and coolness. 'He knows himself', I thought. I eyed him longlingly, enjoying the opportunities I had to explore the flacid bulge of his package and, once in a while, patting him on his muscular ass. He neither objected to my watchful eyes or my stern pats.

As weeks passed, I became increasingly aware that he did not mix with the other ranch-hands. He got along, okay, but wondered off, most of the time, walking by himself, with no particular purpose. Smoking his incessant cigar, Randy took great joy in just watching the horses and cattle lazing around the inner pasture. As he climbed up on the white, railed fence, I'd notice, he'd tighten his muscular ass, thrusting his penis forward, until I thought he got some sensual kind of pleasure of being alone with these great creatures. 

He seemed in wonder of them. But, then, anyone who has enjoyed the company of animals knows that their acceptance of life is unconditional and can it be very cathartic, and, yes, the solitude with them, very sensual.

I started the ranch with an inheritance because of my own similar experience. My father had always rejected me and my school years proved to be excruciating. I didn't have the confidence that other guys seemed to have. I envied them and longed to know what made me different. This usually manifested itself in the high school gym showers, where I'd secretly ogle my naked classmates, trying to figure out what made me different. On one occasion, I was showering when a boy, whom I had admired for a year, stepped into the shower in front of me. The configuration of the opposing faucets, permitted me a full view of his five inch flacid cock and sagging balls, that which, up to now, I had only been able to decern through his tight fitting pants when passing in the halls between classes. The view was priceless. I put my head down, pretending to wash my sweaty head as I watched his veiny cock and full, mushroom head hang low above those impressive set of balls. His bush extended from his crotch in a triangular fashion, and a trail of hair extended to his naval expanding once again to his lean pecks. (I imagined us in each others arms). We stood there for what seemed like an eternity. 'Was I watching him? Or, was he watching me?', I asked myself, too self conscious to believe the later. The next day, I saw him walking between classes. His eyes caught mine and mine his, for the briefest of moments. Clasping my balls, I feaverously masturbated that night to release the stress and want for him. 

'Why is it that men can't express their affection for each other?'
I asked myself this question over and over, eventually moving to the solitude of my ranch. I didn't fit the mold of gays, hanging out in bars, exploiting each other and being exploited. Dying of aids. My solitude with the animals helped my personal conflict for many years.
Ranch hands came and went and I had much warmth for many who had taken personal charge of my wonderful animals. But, until now, none had stirred me like that day in the locker room. 'Paul!', I have thought to myself so many times, since then, 'PAUL!!'.

Randy was biting his cigar out of the side of his mouth as I approached the next morning. The sun was bright, the spring weather balmy. His sharp blue eyes fixed on mine as I walked towards him. He smiled, his bright white teeth in my direction. I could see the sun gleam off his tanned skin and soft,curly blonde hair. 

"Morn'n... Mr. Mike!", he exclaimed.

"Hey, handsom!", I smiled and answered, always testing him.

"Thanks!", Randy gratefully replied, with his big bright smile again expanding across his face. I moaned quietly to myself.

I could not hold back anymore. Too many memories had awakened my thoughts. After years of lonliness, I sensed Randy was fulfilling some kind of destiny. Thank goodness it was Saturday and the hands were off for the weekend. I could feel out this situation without being intimidated by the their presence. As usual this lonely, young man of twenty, had hung back and stayed at the ranch.

"Mike, I've been thinkin'...and I want to tell you....that, well, I will do anything to stay on...after the cattle sale. I love this place, and...well, I will do ANYTHING to stay on!"

Randy stood erect and faced me now. His words told me all I wanted to know. I looked directly into his blue eyes. I remembered my high school 'friend'. Without a word, I pressed my hand to his bulging crotch and rubbed my fingers gently over his cock and balls. Destiny was being fulfilled.

I moved closer, without complaint from my companion, and whispered, "Randy. You always have a job here. You know that."

Randy looked at me cooly, as if I did not understand what he had said.
"No, I need... a blow job!", he stated matter of factly, as he gazed into my eyes.

"There's no one here.", he added, and, "I don't take long to get off."

While my flirtations with him had been ongoing for weeks, I only felt that I got away with it because he was slow and wouldn't share these experiences with the others. I had never imagined that Randy would actually propose that we have sex with each other.

Our breathing mixed. 

"Randy, you are a beautiful man!", I panted, breathlessly.

"Thanks.", was his only response, as sincere as it was.

He then reached around my jeans and ran his fingers up the crack of my ass, smiling, his big smile.

I wrapped my arms around his frame and held him like the best friend I had ever known. 'Were we starting to know each other?', I wondered.

"Come over to the main house.", I said, without another moments hesitation.

My knees felt weak, but, I was determined that the time was now.

We neared the house and entered. I led Randy to my bedroom. It was much different from the beds he shared with the hands in the bunk house. From that spartan atmosphere, Randy was entering something entirely new. I could see his eyes take in the surroundings and he became animated in his acceptance of them. 

"Is this your.....big bed, ...Mr. Mike?" "What would the guys say...if they could see us now?" Randy seemed delighted to be in such surroundings and under such circumstances. His blue eyes danced with pleasure.

I sat on the thick comforter which smothered my bed. Randy was now in front of me and my heart pounded. I pulled him toward me and pulled his tee shirt over his head. I gazed up at his lightly haired chest and pink, full nipples. Sensing the urgency in his pants, I felt my own cock harden urgently. Randy looked down on me with a knowing expression. The tee shirt hit the floor. I wondered what he knew about being with another man. I had virtually no experience. Just a lifelong desire. As I reached for the button of his pants, his head angled almost teasingly. He proposed this encounter seeming to know the hunger I had felt in my loins for years. Now, we were alone, without the inhibiting factors that had jailed my feelings for my thirty-some years.