The following is a mostly true story about me growing up in western South Dakota in the 80's. It's about my first relationship and contains some m-m stuff. If you aren't old enough or this is illegal where you live, please stop reading now.
Well enough of that. ... On with the story.
From part 2 ...
"No problem man." And then Conner did something that changed my world, though I didn't realize it at the time; He smiled. I mean when Conner showed up at my door he looked menacing to me because he was pretty scared. He had been running in a pretty intense lightning storm that could also spawn a tornado or two. The closest house to me is Conner's, there is nothing else. In the midst of that chaos and danger, I had provided him with a safe home away from the storm. The relief on his face translated to the most awesome smile I'd ever seen -- his pearly whites shining down upon me. Looking back, I know now that my heart skipped again, this time not in fear, not in love yet either, but in joy at helping Conner. Little did I know that this would be but the first of storms from which I would provide Conner a safe house.
With that comment, Conner took off around the house. For a second I stared. With as dark as he was and him wearing white spandex shorts, there was little left to the imagination. His muscles moves so powerfully. I'm a middling x-country runner at best. I run a 5K in about 20-21 minutes. We only have 8 runners on the team, and even so I only run varsity (the top 7) about half the time. Conner was a pleasure to watch run. Not because I was attracted to him, I'm mean he's a guy, you know but because he has good form. I quickly snapped out of it and headed to the back of the house.
*** OK -- time for another excursis into my life. My mom left Cloud after high school not simply to attend an Ivy League school. She also left because she didn't like the "mess" of the ranch. Trust me -- we might be out away from the smog of cities, but ranches have their own particular odors. Personally, I like it. It's home. When ever I go out east with my mom, I think New York smells like a tinny bathroom. Out here are honest smells: sweat, cattle, horses, hay. After my mom made a small fortune, she came back, because she loved the home feeling of the ranch. So she set up boundaries. Everything from the house to the highway was her "Country Estate" as she called it. The rest of the land was "The Ranch". The section of land in front of the house looks like it could be the lawn of some English manor, I kid you not. It's immaculate. The house is kept clean and spotless.
In order to keep the mess of the Ranch from the house, my mom had my dad create a buffer. When you enter through the back door, you enter into what is basically 2 locker rooms: a larger room for the guys and a smaller room for the women. In the guys room are 2 commercial size washer and dryers, hooks, and lockers. When ever you come in off the farm you strip everything off, even your underwear. It gets thrown in the wash. At the other end of the room is a shower area. The shower area had 4 shower poles, each with 4 nozzles on them. It was almost as big as the shower room at school. After you showered, you exited the other side and changed into clean clothes. Then you could enter the house. You may wonder why the shower room was so large, but remember, mom fed all the ranchers at dinner. Everyone had to shower and clean up before eating.
My dad had also built a workout room off to one side of the locker room. That's where I had been lifting weights when Conner rang the door bell. The only reason I had dared answer the door without cleaning up is because my mom gone. If I had walked through the house in my gym clothes when she had been home, it would have gained me a sharp lecture. Truth be told, if I had started the aerobic portion of the workout, I would have thought twice about walking through the house when I was dripping with sweat. ***
By time I reached the locker room, Conner was standing inside the door dripping wet and looking around.
"Wow," he said. While most ranches have some type of locker/shower room, few if any looked as nice as ours.
I had grown used to people been a little awed by the opulence of our place, but it still made me feel a little uncomfortable. I responded as I always do though, I ignored it. I looked at Conner and responded, "If you want to clean up, there's some clean clothes on the other side of the showers. I need to finish my work out and then clean up as well."
*** After my dad died, my mom had a second locker room/office built by the worker's entrance to the ranch, which was a bout 2 miles closer to town. After dinner time, the workers knew not to come near the homestead when she was out of town. They had to do some work around the house, like take care of the lawn. But once dinner was over, they stayed outside the immediate area. If they didn't, they would be fired on the spot. She trusted all of them; she knew all of them and their families, but her teen son was here alone. So she took some certain precautions.
I think she would have stopped the dinners, except my dad had always talked about how important the dinners were, and she couldn't change that tradition. Nor could I do all the work on the homestead, especially the yard work. Also, she saw it as a good social event for me. All the ranchers who worked on the farm were given several sets of work clothes. When they came in for dinner, they'd strip out of the clothes they used in the morning and threw them in the washer. They'd shower and then we had ranch T-shirts and shorts for them to wear to dinner. After dinner they'd change into a differ set of work clothes. I'd run the wash in the afternoon and have that set cleaned and ready for the next day after their shower. They were responsible for cleaning up their "afternoon" work clothes themselves. Which is a long way to explain why there were plenty of clothes for Conner to wear after he washed up. He wouldn't fit in any my clothes, being half a foot taller than me and sporting some more bulk. ***
"I'm fine. I'll just wait here until the storm calms down." He hadn't moved beyond a couple paces into the room.
"It's no problem. And I don't think this storm is letting up any time soon. Do you need to call your dad and let him know where you are?
"My dad?" Conner asked, more to himself, it seemed than to me. "No...no, he went into Swifton and won't be back until late tonight. He doesn't even know I went out for a run."
"Well, like I said, you can shower while I finish working out. I have about 4 more sets to do. And then I will probably run for a bit."
"Where do you work out at?" Conner asked. "You're going to go running out in this weather? Take it from me, it's not nice out there."
"Don't I know it, you're drenched. Speaking of which, you can't be all that comfortable, unless you like being caked in mud."
Conner seemed to be thinking about his options. For whatever reason he seemed really hesitant to shower here. Finally he said, "You didn't say where you worked out."
"Oh, yeah -- my dad had built a work out room off of the locker room. It's got free weights, a nautilus machine, a treadmill and a stair machine. I've never used the free weights, because I don't have anyone to lift with."
"I could spot you," Conner said with a small smile. His lips curled up, but his teeth remained hidden.
"You're all wet! I might not be as picky as my mom when it comes to mud, but I'm not going to have you bring all that dirt into my weight room."
Conner looked around for second. He spotted a towel hanging up. He grabbed it and proceeded to wipe himself up. After a moment, he looked at me and said, "Better?" This time, he did give me a full smile. My stomach fluttered a bit, and all I could do was reply back, "Sure."
We walked into the weight room. Again Conner stopped as soon as we entered, "Holy fuck," he said. "This is better than the school weight room." He couldn't hold back his smile now. He looked like a kid in a candy store.
I started to move towards the Nautilus equipment.
"Nah, man, you aren't going to use that when you got all this free weight equipment," Conner lamented.
"Other than the dumbbells, I never use the free weights, 'cause I don't have anyone to spot me."
"I'm here. I'll spot ya. But.... Before you lift, you should get your heartrate up some. We're going to run for 20 minutes. You want the treadmill or starimaster."
"I normally don't run until after the weights."
"Trust me, dude, it's a much better work out if you go some cardio in first."
"Fine, I'll take the treadmill; I did stairs yesterday."
The two machines were placed against the far wall, with the treadmill behind the stairmaster. As I started to run at about a 5 MPH pace. I looked up as I was getting in stride and realized Conner's ass was right in my line of view. As he took each step, I could see his rear muscles clench and unclench. I could also see the muscles in his bare back ripple as he pumped his arms.
After a couple of minutes of warm-up, I ratcheted the pace up to 6.5 MPH. That gave me about a 9 min/mile pace. Conner started pumping his arms up and down. I saw he had grabbed some 10 lb dumbbells. I was mesmerized by the dance of his shoulder blades. A couple of times I think almost tripped on the treadmill, I was so engrossed.
Finally, after 30 minutes (5 minutes war-up and cool down), we stopped our machines. I was sweating nicely. With the storm passing through, humidity was high. I toweled off and we walked over to the bench.
"Let's start you off with 95 and see how you do." Conner grabbed two 25 lb weights and slid them on the bar. I lay down on the bench and he moved to behind the bar, waiting for me to lift off. And then it hit me - Conner's smell.
** This is more a reminder than a full excursis. Cross country and track are outdoor sports. We run. Because I could shower at home, I never showered at school. Even in track, we never had team weight room time. If we wanted to lift, we had to wait for baseball to be over and lift on our own time. Since I had my own weight room, I've never lifted with anyone before. ***
I looked up to size up the bar and all I saw was Conner's crotch. Now it's not like he was pushing it in my face. He was standing like any spotter would, but he was still in the white spandex. His dick was silhouetted by the fabric and, since we had just done an aerobic workout for the last 30 minutes, his body was sweating like mine. That man smell of sweat and work hit me. The smell went right to my stomach, in a good way. Reflecting back, I don't think it was so much lust at that point as a feeling of loneliness. It made me think of my dad. (No, not in any perverted sense, but that musky smell he'd have after working on the farm all day, especially in the summer, when he'd pick me up and give me hugs.)
"You waiting for an invitation from god?" Conner asked as he looked down.
"Oh, sorry, no." I grabbed the bar and lift off. It was comparable to the amount I used on the Nautilus, but was not as steady. I moved the bar down slowly and pumped out 6. It started getting hard; Conner helped me with the last couple.
"Not bad for a scrawny white boy," Conner quipped. "But it's no wonder your chest is as flat as a pancake. You work with me and I'll get you some definition to those pecks."
What he said took a moment to sink in. "You're going to come over and work out with me?"
"Hell ya, if you don't mind. You got a killer workout room, and I don't have to wait for any of the equipment."
The thought of Conner coming over every day made me feel good, but I couldn't explain why. Other than to say no one had ever wanted to hang out with me. I normally hung out with other people.
We worked through some other sets. The work out lasted for another half hour. By time we finished, the rain had slowed down to a drizzle. Looking out west, you could see the sun, indicating the storm would soon pass.
"Well I guess you can run home now, or I could run you home on my four wheeler," I began. But then, for some reason added, "Unless you want to stay for supper. My mom's gone until Thurs, so I normally eat alone."
"Supper would be great, like I said, my dad's up in Swifton. If he gets home before 1am, I'd be surprised." Conner's face had started in a smile as he assented to staying, but transformed into a frown when he mentioned his dad.
"We gotta wash up first, house rules. Since you're coming over tomorrow, you can throw your shorts in the washer, I'll have them done by time you get here." I walked over to on the washing machine and peeled my shorts and socks off and threw them in. When I turned around, Conner was in the process of taking off his shorts having already removed his socks and shoes with a flick of his feet. I found myself staring at his cock like a deer caught by headlights.
*** Again, let me explain. I've seen lots of naked guys, most who are older than me. Since I worked out on the ranch during the day, I showered with the other guys quite often for dinner. I've been doing this since I was 6 or 7. We normally have several college students, and 3-4 older men. But here's the thing about Conner's cock. 1) it was black and 2) it looked to me like a elephant's trunk. It must have been 6 inches and it danced around when he moved. Me, on the other hand, I have a pretty small penis. Even now that I am full grown, it's small when it's soft. Normally like 2 inches max. When I've been working out, it shrinks even more. After a workout, it might only be 1 inch, and don't even ask about running outside in the winter. When I first get in and undress, you'd think I was sporting a mangina almost. On that day, as I said, I still was growing. I had some hair on the top, my balls were still smooth and, well, i was barely a mouthful, balls and all. (That is until I got hard, but that's for later.) The guys I've seen were obviously bigger, but still 3 inches or so. Their soft cocks would hang down some, but fucking A, Conner was a trunk. A black trunk! ****
Conner caught me looking, "You white boys are all alike." He gave a short laugh and smiled again. He danced a bit, which caused his dick to swing a little. "Come on, lets get showered." And with that he walked in the shower area and I heard 2 shower heads get turned on.
To be continued....
Any comments please email me at btanner72a@gmail.com.