Buying Boots on eBay

Buying Boots on eBay
A fictional fetish story
by Deepmud


Ben had been eagerly anticipating this day ever since he first glimpsed the pictures of those well-worn rubber boots. And now, at long last, the moment had arrived for him to pay a visit to the farmer named Jon who had listed them for sale.

Since his teenage years, Ben had harboured a peculiar, almost magnetic fascination with bulky rubber boots. There was a primal quality to them that made him feel rugged and masculine whenever he put them on.

By chance, he stumbled upon a pair of Nokian Eurologgers on eBay, a platform he sporadically scanned. These boots were used but resilient, and the seller's enticing listing immediately seized his attention: „Exceptional Worn Nokian Eurologgers in black – good condition – a rarity/hard to find. Priced at 100 GBP.“

The price, although steep, struck Ben as reasonably fair.

Apparently, the seller, whose name was rendered as 'JH', knew exactly how much the boots were worth.

The listed size was two sizes too large for Ben, prompting him to consider a test fitting before committing to the purchase. This was particularly appealing given the item's location, potentially saving him on packaging and shipping expenses if the rubber boots turned out to be a good fit.

He contacted 'JH' and the seller responded almost promptly and briefly: „Of course you can try the boots first. Cheers mate, Jon.” They agreed on a day and time. A few days later, Ben turned off the road and into the driveway to the farm, which was nestled into the hilly landscape. When his GPS finally informed him that he would reach his destination in about 1 mile, he became increasingly nervous.

With a blend of anticipation and apprehension, he made his way towards the secluded farm, holding onto the hope of discovering what he had long sought after.

As he parked his car outside the farmyard, he couldn't ignore the profound silence enveloping him, the serenity of nature embracing his senses. This stark contrast to the bustling garage at the nearby town's car dealership, where he spent his workdays, was impossible to overlook.

In anticipation of heading directly to work thereafter, he was already dressed in his work attire: dark blue Mascot work pants that bore the marks of wear, complemented by textile safety boots from the same manufacturer, and an aging white T-shirt adorned with a faded Shell logo print.

As he walked towards the yard, he noticed the smell of earth and livestock that filled the air, reminding him why he loved being outdoors.

The door of a nearby barn swung open the moment Ben stepped into the yard, his curiosity guiding his gaze in all directions. The man emerging into the sunlight greeted him with a warm and welcoming smile. „Fuck!“ Ben thought, scarcely finding words as his gaze settled on the farmer.
Jon exuded a powerful presence, was about his age, his physique defined by well-toned muscles, broad shoulders, and a sun-kissed strong neck. His hair was short and dark brown and he had a full beard that was a slightly darker shade. His face was boyish despite his beard.

However, Ben only observed this upon a closer look. His words got stuck in his throat because he realized quickly that the individual's coverall was entangled in Bekina waders, their exterior smeared from the bottom up to the very top with cow dung. As if that wasn't enough, his suit was all dirty and his work gloves weren't exactly tidy either.

Ben could only manage to rasp out a faint, „Hello, I'm Ben.“

„No kidding! I wasn't expecting anyone else really.“ the guy replied with a mischievous grin that caused Ben's cheeks to redden, leaving him feeling inexplicably flustered.

The young farmer quickly approached and slipped his right hand out of the glove and extended it toward Ben in a welcoming gesture. „Jon. Pleasure to meet you,“ he said with a firm handshake, standing face to face with the muscular guy in his well-worn smelly boots. Ben already felt a stirring in his loins.

He noticed the farmer scrutinizing him intently, hopeful for approval. After all, Ben’s well-defined muscles and torso, taut calves, robust thighs, and tight butt often garnered envy from onlookers.

„Welcome to my humble home,“ he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement in it. „Come on in. The Loggers are in the stable. I also have some old Vikings safety rubber boots that are very similar to the Nokian in case these don't fit right... also coming with reinforced steal toe caps, of course.“

Ben followed Jon into the dimly lit interior of the barn. It was clear that this place had seen many years of service. He led Ben through the barn, down a narrow hallway, and into a large room filled with old furniture and farming equipment. „Let me get you some water,“ Jon offered, disappearing momentarily into another room.

During Jon's absence, Ben seized the opportunity to inspect the safety boots he had come for. These boots seemed perfectly broken in, radiating an aura of comfort. Crafted from sturdy rubber, they exuded a reassuring sense of durability - The sight sent shivers through his body and the potent aroma of the matte black rubber stirred a unique excitement within him as its scent intermingled with the omnipresent aroma of cow dung in the vicinity.

Ben felt another surge of excitement as he imagined wearing these boots, getting his gloves dirty with oil and grease, feeling powerful, like the ultimate man. For how long had he searched for a pair of these rubber boots? Now, not only had he found one, but there were two pairs available. Jon was right: The Vikings looked nearly identical, except for the blue trim that replaced the all-black design.

When Jon returned, he offered Ben a glass of cold water. The gesture felt strangely intimate, and Ben couldn't help but blush.

Intrigued by Jon's tales of using the boots during his work with the cattle inside the cowshed, Ben couldn't resist the urge to ask for a chance to try them out. Jon responded with a mischievous grin, saying, „Sure thing! Go ahead and give them a try.“

„Do you have some thick socks with you?“ Jon inquired.

Ben nodded, replying, „Yeah, absolutely. I wear thick socks pretty much year-round. It comes with the territory of being a car mechanic.“

Jon's interest piqued as he asked, „You're a mechanic?“

Ben chuckled and remarked, „Indeed, that's why I have plenty of safety shoes and boots – always on the lookout for more - and ... work clothes,“ he added, gesturing to his attire.

„Yeah, right, and if a car gets stuck in the mud per chance, you definitely need good durable pair of safety rubber boots, correct?”

Ben couldn't be entirely certain if Jon intended to sell the old boots or if he had a particular direction in mind for their conversation.

„By-the-way, the boots should also be oil-resistant,“ Jon noted, observing the stains on Ben's work pants. „It looks like you're not a big fan of using rags, or there's never one around when you need it. Either way, you seem to rely on cleaning your gloves quite frequently during your job – in a favourite spot.“ Jon said as he unabashedly looked directly at Ben's crotch, his grin grew wider.

As sweat began to bead on his forehead, Ben attempted to regain focus on their transaction. With a nervous tone, he inquired, „Why are you selling the boots?“

Jon took a moment to ponder and then exhaled, saying, „Well, I'd prefer to hang onto them, but they're a bit snug on my feet, and wearing them all day causes discomfort. Safety boots with steal toe caps aren't known for their flexibility, you know.“

Jon continued to expound on the boots, detailing their distinctive attributes and the various ways he put them to use. Ben was all ears, his anticipation growing as he unfastened his safety shoes, his mind racing with vivid images of himself donning the rubber boots. With each new titbit Jon shared, his longing for those boots surged.

„Well, let's give it a shot,“ Ben said, his voice quivering slightly from nervousness. Jon selected a sturdy pair of woolen socks from a nearby clothesline and offered them to Ben. „I've got plenty of woolen stockings, and you don't have to worry about ruining your own socks by chance while testing the boots,“ he suggested with a friendly smile. To Ben's surprise, the socks were dry but far from fresh. After a brief hesitation, he accepted the well-worn knee socks, redolent of both sweat and cow dung.

With trembling fingers, he initially started by swapping the stockings before redirecting his focus to the rubber boots. Jon watched, observing the movements of Ben's hands and the growing bulge between his legs. „So, you really like these kind of boots, huh?“ Jon commented casually, raising an eyebrow.

Ben swallowed hard, his slow nod expressing what words couldn't convey. This moment was a dream realized, and he struggled to believe that he was about to put these legendary rubber boots on. Jon smiled knowingly, seemingly attuned to the overwhelming emotions surging within Ben.

„Don't worry, everyone gets excited around these boots.“ He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, „You know, sometimes when I wear them, they make me feel... and I urgently need to ...“ He fell silent suggestively and left the rest to Ben's imagination, but finally made slow jerking movements in the air with his right hand, which he had put back into his work glove in the meantime.

Ben's face flushed even more, his arousal becoming apparent in his pants.

Ben warily stepped into the first boot, feeling the soft yet firm rubber press against his foot. It enveloped his foot snugly, providing a sense of security and power.

Jon noticed the change in Ben's demeanour as he slipped into the second boot, his posture shifting subtly as he adjusted to the sensation of rubber encasing his legs. The scent of sweat and cow dung mixed with the rich, earthy aroma of the barn permeated the air, filling Ben's nostrils with the heady fragrance of pure masculinity.

Ben's heart raced as he stood up, taking in the unmistakable transformation of his own appearance. Addressing Jon, his mouth formed the words „fuuuuuck!“ without saying it. Jon nodded, amused.

The heavy, enveloping rubber encased his lower half, turning him into something entirely new - a creature of power and strength, connected to the earth and its raw, primal essence. His breath came faster, his eyes still locked to Jon's with an intensity that spoke volumes.

Jon grinned, a knowing glint in his eye. „It feels ... stimulating, doesn't it?“ he murmured, a subtle challenge in his tone. Ben didn't need to answer; the heat emanating from his face was proof enough.

Jon continued. „Shall we head outside? You can really put these boots to the test in a genuine farming setting. I've got plenty of muddy areas where you can see them in action – just look at mine,“ Jon proposed. Ben responded with an enthusiastic nod, adrenaline coursing through him as he eagerly trailed Jon out of the barn and onto the grassy field.

The sun cast long shadows across the expansive, lush green landscape, beckoning them to explore. Jon guided Ben toward a particularly muddy patch, where the slurry squelched beneath their boots with each step.

As Ben and Jon trudged through the oozing, sticky sludge, the overpowering scent of slurry filled the air, intertwining with the sounds of the bellowing cattle in the background.

Ben's excitement grew, his arousal pulsing between his legs, his skin flushed from the sensual anticipation of finally wearing the massive rubber boots.

„This is what you were born to wear,“ Jon commented with a wink, his voice low and confident. „I pretty much stick to wearing waders these days, to be honest,“ Jon admitted.

„All day long?“ Ben asked, clearly surprised. Jon gave a nonchalant shrug. „Well, I'm mostly alone here on the farm, and the work gets pretty dirty at times.“

„I'd say you take 'dirty work' to a whole new level,“ Ben teased with a playful grin, lightly tapping his fist against Jon’s chest.

Jon let out a hearty chuckle and admitted, „Yep! Guilty.“

Ben couldn't help but glance down at his booted feet, taking in the sight of the powerful filthy rubber wrapped tightly around his calves. It was an intoxicating mix of power, protection, and sexuality that sent shivers down his spine. „Shit, they're so fuckin hot!“

„Yeah, they sure are,“ Jon replied. He gestured towards the expansive meadow surrounding them and added, „If all this isn't enough for you, there's a big pile of dung behind the cowshed. Interested?“

„Shit, yes.“ Ben breathed raggedly, his hands absentmindedly fingering at his fly, adjusting his stubborn member into a more comfortable position. „That sounds almost too hot.“

„In that case, let's get going,“ Jon said, taking the lead.

Jon guided Ben to the rear of the large cowshed, where a substantial mound of manure rested in a concrete tanking. A narrow wooden walkway led to the expansive top of the towering dung heap that was also accessible through a door at the back of the structure.

Their eyes sparkled with excitement as they drew nearer, and the potent aroma of concentrated dung hung in the air. „It's at least twice my height and absolutely enormous,“ Ben marvelled, „What are the dimensions?“

„I'd say around 60 feet in length and 13-14 feet in height,“ Jon replied.
Jon stopped and turned to Ben, flashing a wicked grin. „Alright, start at the top,“ he said, his voice low and husky. „Then work our way down to the end.“ Ben nodded in agreement, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension burning within him. The sheer thrill of doing something taboo heightened his arousal.

„Make sure to use the plank to climb up; otherwise, it'll be tough to get on top. I brought up some fresh manure in the wheelbarrow this morning,“ Jon advised, a sly smile forming on his face. „It's the perfect opportunity to put those boots to the test.“

Ben's heart thumped in his chest, his body craving the sensual delight awaiting him. With hesitant steps, Ben placed the Eurologgers on the board, feeling the rough wooden planks flex under his weight.

The dunghill towered before him; its peak covered in a thin layer of fresh foul-smelling manure as Jon had already hinted.

Once at the top, Jon gestured to Ben to take the first step onto the dung heap. As Ben moved forward, his boots sank into the wet substance, causing a sucking sound with each step. The sensation of being submerged in liquid cow shit was unlike anything Ben had ever experienced before, awakening a flood of unbridled arousal within him.

„Shit, man! You think the structure can handle my weight?“ Ben questioned with a hint of concern. But when Ben glanced down again, Jon had vanished from his previous spot in front of the mound and was now stepping onto the wooden plank at the base of the dung heap. Jon cautiously followed him.

„Do I reckon the dunghill can bear your weight?“ Jon quipped mockingly as he neared Ben.

„Well, I didn't bring any spare clothes with me, even if I wanted to... play more,“ Ben replied, a wry smile playing on his lips.

With each second, his rubber-clad calves sank deeper into the manure, conforming to the contours of his legs. The muscles in his arms tensed as he noticed the rubber boots being gradually pulled deeper and deeper into the muck.

The foul, fresh cow dung had now reached the brim of the boots, causing Ben's heart to race as he fought to maintain his balance. His eyes returned to Jon, who stood on the board behind him with his heavily soiled waders.

The combination of fear and excitement coursed through Ben's veins, leaving him breathless and incredibly aware of his own physical presence.

He felt the liquid manure slowly creeping into his boots and at the same time up his work pants - inch by inch and wrapping itself more and more around his legs. „Shit, shit, shit,“ Ben shouted nervously, but in between he had to grunt because of his excitement.

„I think we have about the same physiques,“ Jon said deliberately calmly. „I'd let you have a coverall for, say, ten pounds. I think this is worth this, right?“ he added, showing his disarming grin again. „I told you - you need waders around here.“

Ben snorted, still struggling to maintain his balance. „You really are an ass. You're a fuckin horny bastard...” as he watched the boots disappear into the muck.

„...Fuck! You're so freakin hot. Shit Jon, is this a tent in your pants?“ Ben exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement as he turned to Jon once more.

„You're likely spot-on with all your assumptions, and you're certainly correct with that last question,“ Jon agreed, a grin once more playing at his lips.

Ben had never imagined he would find himself here, in such a precarious situation, but the allure of experiencing what lay beyond this point made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in a long time.

Jon's hands slid over the bottom zipper of his coverall and pulled it up. Then he reached in and took out his thick boner followed by his balls. His penis was already dripping precum.

„Holy shit. Are you going to beat me with this stick of yours?“ Ben’s eyes grew wide again.

Jon pulled the zipper back down so that the material encased his hard member and sack. „I recommend you do the same, because the dung heap actually won't support your weight for much longer and it'll be harder to get your cock out of your pants once you've been sucked down.“ Jon calmly advised, his tone matter-of-fact, as if he held a potentially hazardous weapon that he could employ against Ben.

Jon looked down lustfully at Ben, who was now trapped up to his knees in cow shit.

Ben knew he couldn't resist any longer. Slowly, his hand found his own zipper and began to pull it down. As it dropped lower, revealing his rock-hard erection, Ben felt a surge of power and desire course through him. This was more than just a kink – it was an intimate, primal connection with another human being, sharing an experience that went beyond the boundaries of societal norms.

His confidence grew as he pulled his Mascot pants down further, exposing his tightly clenched ass cheeks and the delicious curve of his buttocks as well as his well-defined thighs. His cock was swinging freely.

„And you think that my cock is huge? You have quite a remarkable stick of your own.“ Jon commented as he looked down at Ben's genitals with lust. He continued to watch hungrily, his own arousal mounting as he relished the sight of Ben's vulnerability. Jon couldn't take his eyes off the bare butt when he moved slightly forward, eventually reached the end of the wooden plank, positioning himself directly behind Ben. Meanwhile, Ben had descended deeper into the muck with the Loggers, every available space within the tall footwear now filled with slurry.

His legs vibrated with pleasure and soon the cow dung crawled into his pulled-down pants and up his bare thighs. „Easy, sludgebuddy, slowly. I want to look at that beautiful ass a little longer.“ Jon pushed his dirty waders carefully under Ben's crotch before he could sink any further. The toe-caps of his waders touched Ben's testies. He teased them gently with his hip boots and massaged them, until Ben's whole body was consumed by raw arousal.

„Do you like when I touch your balls with my big boots?“ Jon asked, his tone soft and caressing. „Do you like when I massage them with my stinking waders?”

Ben stroked his erect penis with his right hand, causing his hips to buck and arch with desire. With his left hand he ran the toe tip of Jon's rubber boot, which was sticking out from under his balls. „Fuck, yes,“ Ben groaned, unable to hold back his response.

„Hold your horses, sludgeboy! After all, I want my share of the cow shit too.“ Jon withdrew his boot. He put it back onto the wooden board and placed his hands on Jon's shoulders instead. In response, Ben sank almost up to his belly button into the warm pile of dung, visibly shocked. Jon managed to climb over Ben, turning and facing him. Since the spot in the dung heap around Ben was already softened, the farmer immediately sank up to his waist into the foul-smelling mud. „What did I say? Take the dick out first, otherwise the zipper might get stuck in this muck.“

The pressure of the manure squeezed their bodies together. Their hot torsos and abdomen were separated from each other only by thin layers of fabric. Their cocks touched underneath and their slurry-filled heavy boots were sucked together deeper down in the pile the cow shit acting as glue, exciting them to the extreme.

„Oh boy,“ Ben groaned, „how many times a day do you do that? I'd probably would want to stay in here all day. This is... so fucking hot.“

„Yes, it can definitely happen - but I also have to think about the farm and the cows. Well, I made a comment about wearing my waders all day long.” „Right. And?“ Ben wanting to know eagerly. „What about the night?“ Jon asked rhetorical. Ben just let out a loud grunt „Shit!”.

Ben continued, curious about how often Jon indulged in these steamy encounters. Jon chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eye. „Well, it depends on the weather and how busy I am with the cows. Some days, I spend the entire afternoon and evening in the warm muck. Sometimes I come over during my breaks, sink my waders all the way to the top and shoot my juice.“

Ben's mind reeled with the possibilities. He envisioned a life spent entirely in this world of animal excrement and filth, a wild existence ruled by instinct and nature. It was both frightening and enticing, an adventure that tested the limits of what one could endure for love and lust.

„I'm afraid I am about to shoot my load soon...” Ben grunted. „Fuck! I was actually just planning on buying a pair of rubber boots and now I'm stuck up to my breast and dick-on-dick in a stinking heap of cow dung with a horny farmer who's wearing a pair of greasy waders – the dirties boots I’ve ever seen.“

„Wait until you see yours. They won’t be much cleaner!” Jon laughed „This must be quite an introduction.“ Jon bent slightly to kiss Ben's neck. „Now, don't worry, I won't let you go away empty-handed. Let's make this a memorable moment.“

Ben felt the heat from Jon's body radiate against his own. With their faces inches apart, Ben could see the glint of amusement in Jon's eyes, mixed with an underlying seriousness. There was something undeniably magnetic about this young man who had taken him on this erotic journey.

Jon rubbed his erect boner against Ben's as he continued kissing Ben's neck, his lips finally finding Ben's mouth, which was wide open in ecstasy. Soon his constant moans converted to a gurgle as Jon's tongue explored Ben's mouth while they continued to drive both to their climax with their movements.

Jon's hands held Ben's ass tightly as they moved together rhythmically, creating waves of pleasure that sent electric currents through both their bodies. The stinking mass around them rose and fell in the same rhythm. Every now and then a bubble would burst near them as the dung heap released gases trapped in the slurry.

Ben's fingers reached underneath Jon's tee, playing with his hardened nipples and pinching them gently as they continued moving. Their tongues battled furiously, their saliva mixing as they wrestled for dominance. Jon gripped Ben's shoulders with his trashed work gloves firmly, pulling him deeper into the abyss of their shared desire. Ben, driven by sheer lust, ripped Jon’s tee and clawed his Jon's chest, freeing his torso from the tight worn shirt. Both men breathed heavily, their bodies slick with sweat and dung.

„I'm coming! Shit. Jon, I'm coming!“ Ben suddenly shouted. His announcement progressed into increasingly violent, deep rutting sounds.
The dung hill trembled under their combined weight. Jon responded with a feral growl of his own, a mix of surprise and arousal at the intensity of Ben's reaction. His face turned a fierce crimson as he matched Ben's pace, thrusting harder and faster into the pungent mass of manure below them. Each movement sent a shockwave through their intertwined bodies, intensifying the heat and the pressure surrounding them. „Argh! Fuck! Fuck!” Both shot their load almost simultaneously into the slurry.

Their sperm mixed with the cow shit, becoming part of it. Ben threw his head back. „Oh Fuck! Jon! That was the hardest orgasm I've ever had. Fuuuuuck!“ A deep, masculine grunt escaped Ben’s mouth as he tried to catch his breath.

Jon grinned at him and his breathing came in quick gasps, too.

Both gave in to their exhaustion and let their limp bodies be carried by the manure. „How are we ever going to get out this mess, I can hardly move my legs?“ Ben asked as he regained his composure.

„Wait, I'll help you,“ Jon said, exhausted. He bent down as far as the mud would allow, which wasn't much, considering they were stuck up to their shoulders in the muck. Jon lifted Ben out of the pit effortlessly with his muscular arms, all the while sinking even deeper into the foul sludge.

„Damn. How do you still have the strength to lift me, with all this mess clinging to me, and these hefty boots? I swear, I feel like my bones have turned to rubber. Not the sturdy safety wellies kind, if you catch my drift.“ They both burst into laughter.

Ben's wrung-out body came to rest next to the wooden plank on top of the dung, completely exhausted. His outstretched body effectively prevented him from sinking back into the sludge. Jon initially had to wrestle to even reach the board as he was trapped neck-deep in the warm slurry. His upper arm and neck muscles strained as he hauled himself up, bit by bit. Extracting his manure-drenched wading boots from the dung heap proved to be an arduous task. At one point during the struggle, Ben came to his aid, seizing Jon's forearms and forcefully pulling him up onto the wood, which relinquished its captive with a resounding, disappointed thud.

„You know, sometimes people ask me why I wear these waders, why I need them,“ Jon chuckled completely exhausted, looking at the massive footprint they left behind in the dung heap. „Whenever I tell them this story, they usually leave me alone.“ Ben couldn't help but grin, amazed at the incredible experience they had just shared.

„So – speaking honest, how often can you do this? Is it just you and the cows on the farm? No farmhand? Noone that could disturb your fetish?“ Ben inquired curiously.

Jon shook his head, a nostalgic expression crossing his face. „Mostly me by myself, yeah, but there are exceptions. When I play by myself, it's usually here on the beam. I sit on the top end, dip my waders into the slime, lie down on the board and enjoy jerking myself off. That's why my waders were so filthy when you came along. I was horny this morning and I didn't know what kind of person to expect who was interested in the Nokian. I would have saved the contents of my balls for you if I had known the buyer would be such a young fit tight ass.”

„What does 'mostly' mean?“ Ben inquired with a smile, appreciating the compliment.

„There are others like me who like a good dip or sink in the dung heap,” Jon said, his voice low and conspiratorial.

„But they don’t come here often?” Ben asked.

„No, they don’t. And there are only a few.” Jon replied, his words containing a slight hint of sadness. „It’s more of a niche interest, I suppose.” Ben nodded, understanding the rarity of such encounters.

Jon assumed the lead with a mischievous grin. „Let's go into the stable; there's a water connection there. I can't wait to drench your whole body in cold water,“ he declared playfully.

It took some time before they managed to liberate their feet from the shit-caked rubber boots. Jon volunteered and stood with his legs wide apart on a metal rack that was lying on the floor, his hands tightly grasped the hanging chain links above him. Ben clearly enjoyed hosing down his new friend's body with ice-cold water. Jon didn't seem to have a problem with this, he only twitched once when Ben aimed the jet at his balls.

Finally, Jon washed the remains of the cow manure from Ben's body in a more sensitive way, controlling the water pressure of the hose with his thumb and slowly sliding his free hand over Ben's body. Ben purred like a cat when Jon ran his hand over his torso and abdomen. When he washed Ben's crotch, he already had a hardon again. They continued to carefully clean their boots and wash their work clothes and gloves.

Feeling somewhat refreshed, despite the lingering scent of manure that clung to them, the two men emerged from the barn fully naked, looking for dry clothing. They had left their other belongings in the cowshed to air out and dry.

Back in the barn, where Ben had left his work boots and socks, Jon found dry clothes including a reasonably clean pair of yet ripped jeans and a worn t-shirt, which he promptly passed to Ben. Ben wasted no time in getting dressed, appreciating the clean set of clothes. However, the enduring aroma of cow manure would persist with him for days to come.

Ben sniffed his arm, hands, and fingers, remarking, „I believe my friends in the workshop will need to adjust to my new fragrance.“ He picked up his socks and shoes. „I guess this isn't the most conventional way to meet someone, but it sure was interesting.“ Ben continued, breaking the silence as they sat on a wooden bench in the barn.

„I wouldn't call it conventional either,“ Jon agreed, chuckling. „Most people don't get excited about diving into manure on a first date, but hey, you gotta do what makes you happy.“ He then picked a few more dry socks from the clothesline, chose an even older overall and put on the Vikings safety boots without hesitation as he couldn't find any others in the prevailing disorder.

„I figured if the buyer didn't fancy my dirty outfit,“ Jon commented while he adjusted the fabric, „I'd swiftly escort them out of the yard. These Nokians should certainly land in the possession of someone who genuinely appreciates these boots.“ He winced as he eased his legs into the Vikings, catching his breath. „As I mentioned earlier, a tad snug,“ Jon admitted with a sigh. He massaged his crotch carefully „I think I'll just skip visiting the dung heap later tonight. At least not to milk myself there. Although... Maybe my balls will be full again and then I'll have to think about you and then one thing will eventually lead to another.“ He sighed again.

Jon stood up. „Then let's go grab the Eurologgers... although... Do you have any availability later?“

Ben thought for some seconds. „Hm... I did take this morning off, but I can proudly say I lent a hand in a cattle shed earlier - the evidence is hard to miss. Then maybe I can leave early. I also wanted to run a few errands, but with the smell I can forget about it anyway. Considering all that, I could swing by later. Do you reckon the Loggers will be dry by then?“

„No, I don't believe so. It'll likely take the entire night, but we're not in a rush, are we? I've got an early morning ahead of me too, given that this is a farm. Since you'll need a few minutes to get into town, I'll have to make sure I'm up and ready in advance. I will kick your tight butt out of bed in no time.”

„Moreover, I haven't had the chance to give you a complete tour of the yard, and you haven't visited the main house yet,“ Ben mentioned.

Ben's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. „Deal! I’ll be back around 6. My work clothes are still here as well, anyway.“

„What?!“ Jon protested. „I thought those were mine now! There's no company name on them, hence nobody will miss them but you. You did get a perfect pair of jeans from me. Let's trade – no arguments accepted!“ Ben relented, giving in to the young farmer's request. „Deal. Sounds good. I'll think of you every time I catch a whiff of those clothes of yours, though I suppose I could just stick my nose in the nearest pile of cow dung for the same effect.“ The two men burst into laughter.

„Uh, Ben, one more thing: Do you happen to have waders?“

„Yeah, I've got the same ones as you, Bekina. Do you think they'll make the operation... safer?“

„Nope, but they sure do a better job of collecting cow dung in every nook and cranny of those boots. It'll add significant weight, helping us sink deeper into the goop more effortlessly. And then,“ Jon opened a cupboard, „we'll require these as well.“ As he spoke, he retrieved two gas masks. Instead of the filters, each mask had a long, corrugated tube attached.

„Mighty shit! How cool is that?!“ Ben breathed. „Fuck! I think I have to cum again - right away! You're really the hottest slut I've ever met.“

Jon grabbed his own crotch, squeezed his genitals in mock lust, puckered his lips into a kiss and then moaned softly.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Ben found himself behind the wheel of his car, the pungent scent of cow manure lingering on his body. He had a sinking feeling that it might become a constant companion from this point onward.

Before Ben pulled away, Jon leaned in through the rolled-down driver's window and suggested „Perhaps... down the road, you'll invest in a fresh pair of waders that you can keep tidy. I have a feeling your current pair that you will bring along has found its permanent residence here and will likely retain that unmistakable aroma for all eternity. We can look for cool boots together on the web, if you like.“

„That sounds excellent!”

„Shit Jon, I don't know what to say ... That sure was the hottest day of my life.“

„We'll share plenty more adventures, my newfound friend, and I assure you, you won't be disappointed! Boots and masks are just the tip of the iceberg,“ Jon replied with a knowing smile. Ben regarded him with curiosity, eager to discover what his new companion had in store.