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It's either in you or it isn't but if it is it follows you
Farm boy here. I grew up on a family farm, chickens, eggs, a couple of horses, pigs, and of course sorghum and alfalfa. Our days started early, as kids we went to school, after school we had chores to do. My grandmother, she lived with us, my grandfather had already passed away, she oversaw our homework and we got rapped on the fingers if we didn't make a A.
I got a small scholarship to a state junior college and learned my way around and got a job working in the athletic department laundry. Anything to make money. There was a heavy set boy there, Angus was his nickname because he looked lie an Angus bull. He was quiet but he got mad and we became friends. I had little experience with the art of love and was more familiar with the dogs than with people. Of course I had heard of guys getting guys, everyone in the rural south has heard of that. Angus was one of those guys.
It hurt. No one told me that you had to lube up. Angus just tore into me and I took the pain until he was done and pulled out. I had to be gentle when I wiped for the next several days. When Angus came for more I knew what to do and lowered my pants for him and this time it hurt but not so much, this time it felt good. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that this guy told me to get some Vaseline and rub it in before Angus got around to doing what he was going to do.
Why Angus picked on me I will never know. But he did and as long as I was there Angus separated me from the pack and I kept my jar of Vaseline handy and it was like I couldn't wait for it. The other guy there, the one that told me about the Vaseline, he was more ** than a three dollar bill. I think that's why Angus didn't like him, he wanted a good old boy and that' who I was.
I learned it all from Angus. How to take it, when to get down on all fours, how to hold it, how to kiss it, how to swallow. There was no mistake about it, Angus was the hooking bull and I was his for the taking. I'm not really embarrassed about it, it's just how it happened. I'd seen it before, the she ** running for cover, and the big dog getting what he set out to get anyway. It's a big dog world.
I got good enough grades and got a chance to the big school up in Massachusetts, I studied Thermal Dynamics, and other stuff and got a job as an Engineer. I spent my days doing Engineering calculation, I sucked the professor and dropped my drawers for him. It paid off when I got drafted but the Army decided that I was better for the Army if I worked for one of their installations. I didn't get sent to Viet Nam.
Those days in the Army you went off base when you needed a big dog to get to you. I sure missed Angus though. After my three years with the Army I got a job working for a big outfit and had my choice of big dogs to pick from. Seems that a lot of dogs there like to fool around with a country boy. They liked getting their ** sucked and I liked sucking their ** for them. It's what the boss called a win win situation.
I did well and soon was living well and sending money home to the farm. My grandma passed and my folks sold the farm to retire. It hurt really, I grew up there and have so many good memories. That's where I first found out that sucking a man to make him happy is all I wanted to do. That would be Frank Jr. at the feed store, he liked having a young boy sucking at his ** like a heifer sucking on a teet.
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