Samesex/ranch
                                          At the Ranch
                   When I was growing up, my family lived on a ranch where there was
              always a great deal of work to do.  I always enjoyed my chores, although
              both of my brothers could hardly wait to grow up and move away from the
               ranch.  Neither of them seemed attracted to that way of life.  But all
              of us pitched in, and our spread was one the whole family could be proud
                                                of.
                    Then, when I was sixteen, my father died.  For awhile, it looked
              like we would have to sell the ranch.  Both of my brothers had left home
              and were in college.  I was still in high school, and with only Mom and
              myself, we never had enough time to get all the work done.  She thought
              we should sell out and move to the city, but I kept arguing and pleading
                with her.  I hated the idea that we might have to give up the family
              homestead.  Mom felt the same way I did, I think, because eventually she
                let herself be talked into hiring a man to help us with the chores.
                   His name was Derek and he was twenty-four years old.  He worked a
                long and hard day, always being quietly efficient and always knowing
               what to do next without having to be told.  He was as country-oriented
                as I was, and loved ranching.  Mom quickly learned she could really
                count on him, and soon she stopped thinking about selling the ranch.
                 Meanwhile, I grew closer to Derek than I had ever been to my real
                                             brothers.
                  For the first few weeks, Derek lived in the tack room of the stable.
              But soon we came to feel so much like family that it only seemed natural
              to invite him to live in the house with Mom and me.  Besides, summer was
               coming and the house was air conditioned.  The tack room was not.  So
                Derek moved his things into my room, making me feel like I had a new
                                   brother to share things with.
                  From the first, Derek presented himself as a person who was sure of
               himself.  He never hesitated, he never looked self-conscious, he never
              wavered in indecision, and he managed this self-control with one of the
                mildest attitudes I had ever seen.  Derek was shy.  But he was also
                                 bold.  He taught me a great deal.
                   The first night he spent in my room was a revelation in itself.  I
              was bent over my desk, doing homework when he walked in, fresh from the
                shower.  He was wearing his towel around his waist and his chestnut
              brown hair was still dripping onto his shoulders.  I looked up, nodded,
                                       and went back to work.
                  "What are you writing, Steven?" he asked in that soft voice of his.
                               "Just a paper that's not very interesting"
                      "What do you mean 'not very interesting'?  What's it about?"
                  And he walked over to stand at my shoulder, reading over it.  He
                  read silently until he noticed that his hair was dripping on me.
                   "Sorry about that, kid," he said, taking the towel from around his
                waist and drying his hair more thoroughly while continuing to read.
                      The proximity of his nakedness made me really uncomfortable.
              Knowing he was standing only inches away, I took pains not to look up at
                him.  I bent lower over my work.  He probably sensed my discomfort,
              because he moved away and lay on his bed.  After a few minutes he spoke
                                               again.
                            "Steven?", I swivelled in my chair to face him.
                  "Are you going to take over the ranch next year or are you going to
               school?"  It was a subject I had thought about for so many weeks.  It
               deserved a good honest answer.  But all I could think of at the moment
              was the fact that he still hadn't put on any clothes.  I was careful not
              to look him in the eye, but my peripheral vision took in his whole body
              -- a great muscular tanned form lying on its back with a head propped up
                                             a pillow.
                    "I want to stay here, and Mom needs the help," I managed to say,
                "but the teachers and counselor at school think I shouldn't put off
               taking a degree."  He nodded understanding.  "Besides, if I don't take
                 the scholarship next year, I don't know if they'll offer it to me
                                              again."
                   "Yeah, it's tough trying to decide."  While we talked on, his eyes
               would move here and there, always returning to mine to make a point or
              listen closely to what I was saying.  But my eyes stayed on his face.  I
                         think he noticed this and figured out the problem.
                   "Tell me something, Steven.  Does it bother you, my not wearing a
                                        robe or something?"
                   "Of course not!"  I think my face must have reddened, but my eyes
              stayed glued to his.  "I've been in gym classes all my life.  Why should
              it matter?"  I feigned nonchalance.  What I didn't tell him was that my
                brothers and I had never been naked around one another.  I had never
               seen my father undressed.  I never even saw my mother in a nightgown.
                   His nudity was a shock to me. But I tried hard to appear cool.
                   "I usually sleep in pajamas," I cracked. "Is that going to bother
                                               you?"
                     "I'll get used to it."  He smiled a warm smile.  "Good night,
                Steven.  Thanks for sharing your room with me."  He pulled the sheet
                over himself, turned out the bedside light and rolled on his side to
                                    sleep.  I went back to work.
                     That set the pattern of our nighttime conversations.  We would
                 always discuss my future and what I thought I wanted out of life.
                 Somehow, during these talks, Derek became my idol.  He never said
              anything profound or did anything superhuman, but the quiet consistency
                 of his work and his ever-smiling attitude became attributes that I
                wanted to acquire.  I even became easy with his nudity.  As the days
              progressed, I felt comfortable enough to let my gaze wander over him as
                he lay prone on the bed.  His physique was really remarkable and I'm
              sure, added to my hero worship.  The long hours working at ranch routine
               gave him muscular arms and a powerful chest.  His waist was thin, and
               his stomach had a washboard effect.  He had long legs with especially
              strong thighs from many hours in the saddle.  All in all, it was a body
                                      I could wish for myself.
                  Derek never seemed to mind that I spent long moments looking at his
               body.  Most of the time he didn't seem to notice.  And when he did, it
               was just in passing and he never called my attention to it by word or
                          glance.  Ours was a nice easygoing relationship.
                    I did feel like a voyeur every morning, however.  I would always
              wake ahead of Derek and the alarm clock.  In the first light of the sun,
                I would lie in bed and watch him sleep.  He slept in every possible
                position.  And every morning, without fail, he had a huge erection.
                  I had never seen a man's erection before.  Except my own, of course.
               Derek was built much bigger than me, and the sight of his cock, erect
              and bobbing in pendulous hugeness, always filled me with sort of a vague
              envy as well as a vaguer stimulation.  Sometimes I got hard just looking
                                              at him.
                   One morning I awoke to find Derek lying on his back, sprawled half
               off the bed with his top sheet strewn off the footboard.  His cock was
              stretching and waving toward the ceiling.  I had awakened with a hard-on
                 of my own, and found myself grinding it between my stomach and the
              mattress, looking at his body across the room.  Unthinking and not fully
               conscious, I continued rubbing against the sheet until I was very near
               coming.  Then I saw that he was awake and watching me.  I froze.  Our
                eyes met. I hopped off the bed and aimed for the door to the hallway
                       bathroom.

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  He hopped up at the same time and grinned.
                    "Good morning.  I see you woke with the same idea I did." And he
                 gestured toward my pajama bottoms, which were tenting outward.  He
               quickly stepped into a pair of underwear and jammed his erection into
                 it.  Wrapping a towel around his waist-- I'm sure for my mother's
                benefit, in case she was up-- he pretended to wrestle me toward the
                                               door.
                    "I'll race you for the cold shower."  And he half raced and half
              pushed me down the hall to the bathroom, both of us laughing and feeling
                                               good.
                  "You go ahead first," he said as he closed the bathroom door behind
               us.  "I'll shave."  He turned to the sink and started getting out the
                 lather, blade, and so on.  I stripped of my pajamas and got in the
              shower.  I always a take hot shower, no matter what.  I did that morning
              too.  As the steam started to fill his shaving mirror, he called to me.
                    "Hey, I though you needed a *cold* shower."  And he laughed.  I
               could hear the squeaking as he rubbed the mirror.  I lathered all over
                   and looked down at myself.  My erection had softened a little.
                   "Hey yourself," I called, "I thought you needed a cold shower."  I
                  splashed water over the curtain at him.  Before I knew what had
               happened, a hand came through the curtain and turned the water setting
              to the coldest temperature.  I howled and grabbed at the faucet with one
               hand and at his hand with the other.  We fought with the faucet until
                 the curtain was half-open and water was all over the floor.  As we
                 wrestled, I got him into a headlock and forced his face under the
                                 shower's stream.  He was laughing.
                        "I give up.  I give up," he said gasping.  With that, he
                 stepped into the bathtub and closed the curtain, straightening up
                   under the gush of water.  I had released my hold on him and my
                 arms were sort of sliding down from around his neck.  He was still
                  wearing his underwear, now soaked, but by his closeness I could
                  feel that his erection had not subsided at all.  It pulsed again
                  mine.  I dropped my arms and moved a step away from him.  Derek
                 turned into the spray of water and stripped off his jockey shorts.
                     "I guess I don't need these in here," he laughed.  As he stood
                   with his back to me, I looked closely at his muscles, his tan
                   line, the smooth roundness of his ass.  I wanted to touch him
                            badly.  Without turning around, Derek spoke.
                     "Wash my back?" he asked in a low voice.  I hesitated and then
              reached for the soap.  Working up a lather, I stroked his shoulders and
               the backs of his arms, his strong shoulder blades and the small of his
              back.  There I stopped.  I let my hadn't rest at his waist and slowly I
                              leaned my forehead in against his neck.
                   "Don't stop, Steven," he murmured as the water splashed down about
                             our heads.  "Keep going.  It feels good."
                  I worked my hand slowly down to his hips, rubbing in small circles.
                          He twisted his head to speak right into my ear.
                   "You've wanted to touch me for a long time.  It's okay."  At those
               words I felt something release inside of me.  I knew what I wanted and
                             I knew that what I wanted was really okay.
                   I let one hand move around to Derek's stomach, circling just above
                his pubic hair.  My other hand circled onto his ass an felt the hard
               muscles packed into those orbs.  My hand drew the line of the fold in
              his ass many times, working deeper and deeper with every pass, until my
              hand was reaching between his legs, tickling the bag that contained his
                         testicles.  Derek moved his legs, spreading them.
                     I responded, pressing my stomach along the length of his side.
                 Derek put one arm around my waist, as he submitted to my touch and
               curiosity.  My own cock stretched across Derek's stomach.  As one hand
                fondled his balls from behind, my other traced the line on the horse
              cock stretching out before me.  Both of us watched my fingers run up and
              down the cock, pressing it this way and that.  Then I grasped it, first
               exerting pressure and then releasing it.  Derek moaned and closed his
                                               eyes.
                  I had never felt this for a man before.  Never even fantasized about
              it.  But as both of my hands kept busy massaging and stroking, I leaned
               my lips to his cheek and kissed him lightly.  He smiled and moved his
                 head, making my next peck an off-center mouth-to-mouth.  I leaned
                            forward an inch more and we kissed for real.
                  As the water splashed about our bodies, our arms brought us into an
               embrace.  Our erect cocks were pressed between our bellies.  We kissed
              deeply and ground our stomachs together, breathing heavily.  Hands found
               asses.  Tongues found tonsils.  Cocks found stimulation until we both
                shuddered in orgasm almost simultaneously, clutching at each other's
                                    bodies there in the shower.
                  It took several moments for us to recover.  Smiling broad smiles of
               contentment, we splashed each other's stomachs and hurried to complete
                     our showers and shaves.  We could smell breakfast waiting.
                   Derek and I settled into a routine of sex.  Almost every night we
              would discover and re-discover each other's bodies.  And he would let me
                 look and touch, to my heart's content, even when neither of us was
              really in the mood for a heavy session.  When summer came and I was out
               of school, Derek and I found lots of time to explore each other out of
                   doors.  I'll never forget the first day I ever tried oral sex.
                     We'd been herding a few strays back into their pasture and had
                finally completed the task.  Derek suggested a quick dip in the pond
              before we went back to the house for supper.  Under the blue of a clear
               sky, we tethered the horses and exhilarating in the feel of the breeze
              on our naked skin.  As always, just seeing him excited me.  Watching him
              stretch his legs and arms, bending this way and that. my cock grew erect
                immediately.  He noticed and smiled.  We walked down to the pond and
              dove in.  After a few minutes of energetic swimming, we both settled on
                                    a little grassy area nearby.
                  Derek stretched out on his stomach and I lay on my side next to him.
               I stroked his back from his neck to his thighs several times before he
              responded by gyrating his hips slightly.  Then he turned over to expose
             his fully aroused cock.  I' put my head on Derek's stomach and watched my
              hand at close range as It played with that giant tumescense -- probing,
                                       stroking and teasing.
                   "Use your tongue on me, Steven," Derek said.  The tone made it a
              request.  I continued playing with his cock, thinking.  Then I shifted a
               little closer and let my tongue play out and lick the very tip of his
                  cock.  Mmmmmm, I couldn't tell what I was smelling or what I was
                  tasting, but I knew I liked it.  I let my tongue lick around the
                                        blood-engorged head.
                  Derek moaned and his hips began a gentle rocking motion.  Trying it
               out, I rose above him and let the end of his cock find its way into my
                 mouth.  He rocked and moved it slowly in and out, while I balanced
                         above, accommating his movements as best I could.
                   Almost immediately he pulled my head away from his cock.  I could
              see he was about to come.  Instinctively, I pulled my head free from his
              hand and went down on his cock as far as I could go, sucking his cum in
             spurts.  Derek gasped, his legs spasmed, and his hands grasped my head to
               him as he climaxed more powerfully than I had ever seen him do before.
              And so Derek and I added a new element to our lovemaking, as eventually
                                      we added so many others.
                             to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories 
                                                  

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