After the Rodeo, the Ranch Hand Took Me Hard in the Hayloft

I drove up to Cheyenne for the rodeo on a warm Friday night, looking for a break from my desk job back in Denver. The stands were packed, the smell of dust and beer thick in the air. After the bull riding ended, I wandered over to the beer tent where a tall guy in a worn denim shirt caught my eye. He had broad shoulders, thick forearms from real work, and a slow smile under his Stetson. We got to talking about the bulls and the weather, and before long Jake was buying the next round.

Two hours later we were in his truck heading out of town to his ranch. Jake kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh, squeezing just enough to let me know where the night was headed. The ranch sat quiet under a big Wyoming moon. He parked by the barn, killed the engine, and looked over. "You ever been with a guy who works with his hands all day?" he asked, voice low. I told him no but I was ready to learn.

Inside the barn the air smelled like fresh hay and leather. Jake closed the big door behind us and pulled me against him. His mouth was hot and tasted like beer and mint. He grabbed my ass with both hands, pressing our cocks together through our jeans. I could feel him already hard and thick. My own dick twitched hard against my zipper as he ground forward.

He yanked my shirt off and ran his rough palms over my chest, thumbs brushing my nipples until I groaned. Then his fingers worked my belt open and shoved my jeans down. Jake dropped to his knees in the hay, took my cock straight into his mouth, and sucked deep. His tongue worked the underside while one callused hand cupped my balls. I grabbed the wooden post behind me to stay upright as he bobbed faster, saliva running down my shaft.

I pulled him up and got his shirt open. His chest was solid muscle covered in dark hair. I licked across one nipple and felt him shiver. Jake pushed me down onto a stack of hay bales, stripped the rest of his clothes, and climbed over me. His cock was long and veined, the head already wet. He fed it into my mouth and I took as much as I could, tasting salt and skin while he thrust slow and steady.

Jake pulled out and flipped me onto my stomach. He spread my cheeks and pressed his tongue right against my hole, licking and pushing inside until I was panting into the hay. Then two thick fingers slid in, working me open with lube he had in his jeans pocket. "You feel tight," he said. "Gonna feel even better when I'm buried in you." I pushed back on his fingers, begging for more.

He lined up and sank in slow, stretching me wide. The burn turned into deep pressure as he bottomed out. Jake started thrusting, hips slapping against my ass, one hand gripping my shoulder. Every stroke hit the right spot and I moaned loud enough that it echoed in the barn. He reached under me and stroked my cock in time with his thrusts, both of us sweating hard.

We switched positions twice more. First he had me ride him on the hay bale, my thighs burning while I bounced on his thick shaft. Then he bent me over the railing and fucked me standing, one arm around my chest, grunting in my ear. When he came he buried himself deep and filled the condom with hot pulses I could feel. I came right after, shooting across the wooden rail while he kept moving inside me until I was shaking.

We lay there catching our breath, hay sticking to our skin. Jake kissed the back of my neck and said, "You can stay the weekend if you want. Plenty more work to do around here." I told him I was already planning on it. The rodeo had been good, but the real show was just getting started in that barn.