Alex wiped the sweat from his brow, the Colorado sun beating down harder than anything he’d ever felt back in Surrey. At twenty-two, he’d left the misty fields of his family’s small farm in England for this vast ranch in the Rockies, chasing adventure and a fresh start.
The job as a ranch hand had sounded romantic: wrangling cattle, mending fences, breathing in that crisp mountain air. But reality hit quickly, endless hours of back-breaking work, dust clogging his lungs, and a crew of grizzled cowboys all pushing forty or older. They were good blokes, sure. Tough, no-nonsense types who slapped him on the back and called him the limey kid. But their evenings were spent nursing beers by the fire, swapping stories of ex-wives and rodeo scars.
Alex craved something more his speed, someone who didn’t treat him like a greenhorn pup.
After a week of aching muscles and lonely nights in the bunkhouse, he mustered the courage to approach the boss. Old Man Harlan was a weathered rancher with a moustache like a broom.
“Sir, mind if I borrow the truck tonight?” Alex asked. “There’s a CrossFit gym in town, figured it’d help me bulk up for the heavy lifting here.”
Harlan chuckled, tossing him the keys. “Just don’t wrap it around a tree, kid. And be back by dawn.”
The drive to the nearby town of Evergreen was a revelation, winding roads through pine forests, the truck rumbling like a beast. The gym was a no-frills spot, all exposed brick and clanging weights, packed with locals sweating through burpees and box jumps. Alex signed up for a class, his farm-built frame holding up better than expected, though the altitude left him gasping.
For the first time since arriving, he chatted with folks his age: a barista with tattoos, a college dropout turned ski instructor. It felt like home, or at least a slice of youth amid the ranch’s isolation.
He kept coming back, twice a week at first, then more. The burn in his muscles was addictive, a way to shake off the day’s dust.
One evening, mid wall-balls, he literally bumped into her.
Diane.
She was tossing a medicine ball like it weighed nothing, her tall frame easily five-ten coiled with power. Muscular didn’t do her justice. She had the kind of build that screamed hours in the saddle or the gym: broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, legs like pistons. Her long dark hair was pulled into a ponytail that swung with every rep, framing sharp cheekbones and piercing green eyes.
But it was the rest of her that stopped Alex cold.
Her tight, bubbly arse strained against her leggings as she squatted, and her firm breasts bounced just enough beneath her tank top to make his pulse race. She was a local vet, he later learned, handling everything from horses to house pets in the valley.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Alex stammered, his British accent cutting through the gym’s din.
Diane laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “No harm done. You’re new here. Accent gives you away. Farm boy?”
They hit it off instantly.
Over post-workout protein shakes, she shared stories of mending broken legs on ranches like his, while he regaled her with tales of rainy English mornings and sheep that wandered into pubs. CrossFit became their ritual: spotting each other on lifts, trading tips on form, their bodies brushing in the crowded space, her sweat-slicked skin against his, heat building with every accidental touch.
Alex found himself stealing glances at her during cooldowns, mesmerised by the way her muscles flexed, how her arse clenched during deadlifts, and the subtle swell of her breasts as she breathed heavily after a WOD. She was confident, teasing him about his “proper” manners, but there was a spark in her eyes, a hunger that mirrored his growing attraction.
Weeks blurred into sweat-soaked sessions.
Their friendship deepened. Quick coffees after class turned into lingering conversations about life in the mountains versus the English countryside. Alex opened up about feeling like the odd one out at the ranch. Diane confessed the isolation of her vet work, driving solo to remote farms at all hours.
The tension simmered, electric.
A hand lingered too long on her hip during partner stretches. Her fingers traced his bicep as she complimented his gains.
One night, cooling down beneath the gym’s fluorescent lights, Diane turned to him, her dark hair damp and tousled, body glistening.
“Hey, Alex,” she said, voice low and inviting. “We’ve been dancing around this for weeks. How about we make it official? Dinner at my place this Friday? I promise. No burpees involved. Just you, me, and maybe a bottle of wine.”
Her smile was wicked, promising more than friendship. Heat rushed through him.
“I’d love that,” he said, heart pounding.
Friday evening arrived faster than Alex expected. He’d spent the day branding calves, his arms still sore from rope work, but the anticipation buzzing in his chest overpowered the fatigue. Diane texted him her address, a small cabin just outside Evergreen, tucked against the foothills with a view of the peaks turning pink in the sunset.
He pulled up in the borrowed ranch truck, freshly showered and shaved for the first time in days, wearing the one decent button-down shirt he owned. Diane opened the door before he could knock.
The sight of her nearly stole the air from his lungs.
She’d traded her usual gym leggings for a fitted black dress that hugged every curve of her athletic body powerful shoulders bare, fabric clinging to her firm breasts and tapering at her waist before flaring slightly over her round, bubbly arse. Her long dark hair fell loose over one shoulder, green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Evening, cowboy,” she teased, pulling him inside with a grin.
The cabin smelled of grilling steak and rosemary. Soft music played in the background. She poured them wine.
“Figured you earned something better than the Coors in your fridge,” she said, handing him a glass with a knowing smile.
Alex took it, their fingers brushing, deliberately on her part, accidental on his, or so he told himself.
The first sip hit warm and velvety on his tongue. He watched her throat move as she drank, the line of her neck catching the low lamplight. Everything about her tonight felt dangerously deliberate.
They moved to the small dining table near the wide window. Two ribeyes rested under foil, still sizzling faintly, beside roasted potatoes crusted with rosemary and sea salt. A simple green salad waited in a wooden bowl. Nothing fussy. Just good. Honest. Like her.
Dinner passed in easy rhythm, stories about the worst branding he’d ever worked, her recounting a client who tried to deadlift four hundred pounds with zero warm-up and cried when his back seized. They laughed, the sound filling the small cabin, and every time she leaned forward her dress shifted just enough to remind him how little separated skin from skin.
After the plates were cleared, he helped her carry them to the sink. She didn’t protest when he took the sponge from her hand, didn’t pull away when their forearms brushed under the running water. Instead she leaned a hip against the counter and watched him, arms loosely crossed under her chest, pushing the soft swell of her breasts higher.
He felt her gaze like a physical touch.
“You’re staring,” he said quietly, rinsing the last fork.
“You’re worth staring at tonight.” Her voice had dropped half an octave. “Clean shirt. Jaw actually visible under the beard. Dangerous combination.”
He shut off the tap, dried his hands slowly on the dish towel, then turned to face her fully. The kitchen was narrow; only a step separated them. He could smell the faint citrus of her shampoo mixed with the rosemary still clinging to her skin.
Diane reached up first, always the braver one.
Her fingertips traced the freshly shaved line of his jaw, slow and exploratory, learning the shape of him. Then her palm flattened against his cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth.
Alex exhaled roughly. “You keep touching me like that and I’m gonna forget how to behave.”
“Maybe I want you to forget, just a little.”
She stepped into him, closing the last inch, her body pressing lightly against his. Warm. Real. The thin fabric of her dress did nothing to hide how hard her nipples had become. He felt them graze his chest through his shirt, and his hands flexed at his sides, instinct warring with restraint.
He lifted one hand, slow enough she could stop him, and cupped the back of her neck thumb resting along her pulse. It hammered. She tilted her head into his grip like a cat seeking more.
Their first real kiss of the night started soft—lips brushing, testing. Then she opened for him and it turned hungry. Tongues sliding, her small moan vibrating into his mouth. He tasted wine and salt and want.
His free hand found her waist, fingers splaying wide, pulling her tighter until their hips locked. She rocked forward once subtle, deliberate grinding the soft heat between her thighs against the thick ridge already straining his jeans.
Alex groaned into her mouth and broke the kiss, dragging his lips along her jaw, down the column of her throat. He sucked lightly where her pulse thundered; she shivered, fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Goddamn, Diane…”
She laughed breathlessly. “You like that spot?”
“Like everything about you tonight.”
Her hands slid down his chest, nails scraping lightly over cotton, until she reached his belt. She didn’t unbuckle it, just rested her palms flat against his lower stomach, feeling the tension coiled there, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing.
“I want to feel you,” she murmured against his ear. “Want to make you feel good. Right here. Right now.”
Before he could answer, she sank to her knees, graceful, unhurried green eyes locked on his the entire way down.
Alex’s hand shot out instinctively, bracing against the counter behind him so he wouldn’t sway.
She worked his belt open with steady fingers, tugged denim and cotton down just far enough. When she took him in her hand, he hissed; when she leaned in and licked a slow, wet stripe from base to tip, his head dropped back against the cupboard with a dull thud.
“Fuck baby”
She smiled against his skin, then took him into her mouth warm, slick, perfect. Not teasing. Purposeful. She worked him with steady pulls, tongue curling under the head on every upstroke, one hand wrapped around what she couldn’t fit, the other braced on his thigh. Every so often she hummed low in her throat and the vibration shot straight up his spine.
Alex threaded his fingers into her hair, not guiding, just holding on. His hips jerked once, twice, before he locked them still.
“Diane…Christ…I’m not gonna last if you”
She pulled off just long enough to whisper, “Don’t hold back on my account. I want it. Want to feel you lose it.”
Then she took him deep again, faster now, cheeks hollowing.
His breathing turned ragged. The kitchen filled with wet sounds, his low curses, her muffled moans of encouragement. Heat coiled tight in his gut, lightning racing down his spine.
When he came, it hit hard, back arching, hand tightening in her hair, a broken groan tearing out of him as he pulsed over her tongue. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Just kept her mouth on him through every shudder until he was spent, trembling, barely upright.
She eased off slowly, pressing a final soft kiss to the sensitive head before tucking him carefully back into his jeans.
Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with satisfaction. She looked wrecked in the best way, and still completely in control.
Alex hauled her up by the arms and kissed her hard, tasting himself on her tongue. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing like he’d just run a mile.
“You didn’t let me,” he started.
She pressed two fingers to his lips. “Not tonight. Tonight was for you.”
Her smile softened, almost shy. “I wanted to give you something real. Something just for you. I’m not ready to take yet. Not… all the way. But this?” She brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. “This I wanted.”
He studied her face, searching for regret or hesitation. Found only certainty.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Then thank you.”
She laughed under her breath. “You’re welcome, cowboy.”
He pulled her into his chest, arms wrapping around her, chin resting on top of her head. They stood like that a long minute, the faint scent of sex and rosemary in the air, the mountains outside the window gone dark.
Eventually she tipped her head back. “Still want that second glass of wine?”
He smiled, slow, lazy, sated. “Yeah. And then I’m gonna sit on your couch and hold you until you kick me out.”
“Deal,” she said, tugging him toward the living room, fingers laced tight with his.
As the crisp Colorado autumn deepened, leaves turning fiery shades of red and gold, Alex and Diane’s relationship heated up like the bonfires the ranch hands lit on chilly evenings.
Alex’s days blurred into seasonal prep rounding up strays from high pastures, stacking hay bales until his shoulders screamed, repairing fences against the coming snow. The older cowboys noticed his distraction, chuckling about “that town girl” keeping him up late, but Alex powered through, his mind drifting to Diane during long horseback rides.
Her texts kept him going, flirty emojis after hard days, promises of massages that always led to more.
Their CrossFit workouts evolved into charged rituals. Subtle touches escalated. Diane pressed her body against his during partner wall-sits, her firm breasts brushing his back as she whispered corrections in his ear. Her hand “accidentally” grazed his crotch while adjusting his form on pull-ups.
He retaliated by spotting her on overhead presses, fingers lingering on the swell of her bubbly arse, squeezing just enough to make her bite her lip and shoot him a heated glance.
The gym air thickened with chemistry.
After one brutal session, thrusters and burpees left them drenched. Diane cornered him in the locker-room hallway and pulled him into a quick, breathless kiss.
“My place tonight,” she murmured against his lips. “I have a surprise.”
That fifth date was back at her cabin, but with a twist.
A hot tub steamed on the back deck beneath a star-filled sky. They started with beers and easy talk about the ranch’s first snowfall forecast, then Diane suggested a soak. Alex stripped down and slid into the bubbling water.
Diane took her time, slowly removing her top and bra, allowing Alex his first amazing view of her gorgeous breasts, before wiggling out of her jeans and keeping only her bikini bottoms on.
Her body was a masterpiece in the moonlight. tall and muscular, long dark hair slicked back, firm breasts buoyant in the water, nipples hardening in the cool air.
They kissed lazily at first. Her strong legs wrapped around his waist as he pulled her onto his lap. He cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her peaks until she moaned. Her fingers dug into his back, nails leaving faint trails.
As things intensified, Diane reached down and untied the strings of her bottoms, lifting herself slightly to slide them off before resettling on his lap. After a couple more minutes of heated kissing, she guided his hand lower beneath the water.
Alex expected familiar slick heat.
Instead, his fingers closed around something firm and throbbing—warm, pulsing in his palm.
He froze.
“Diane… what…?”
She met his gaze steadily, a flicker of vulnerability passing over her face. “I’m intersex, Alex. Born female. Raised female. Everything else matches… but I have this too.”
She gestured downward, voice soft but unapologetic. “A cock, if we’re being blunt. Hormones and all that from birth. I should’ve told you sooner, but… I wanted you to see me first.”
Alex’s mind reeled.
Confusion crashed through the haze of arousal. Back in Surrey, he’d never encountered anything like this. Questions swirled. But as he looked at her, strong, beautiful Diane, who challenged him, made him laugh, whose body he’d craved for weeks, the pull outweighed the doubt.
She was still her.
“I… I’m confused,” he admitted, his hand still resting there, feeling her twitch under his touch. “But I don’t want to stop. Show me?”
Relief washed over her.
“You’re a good man, Alex.”
She stood, water cascading off her muscular frame, revealing herself fully—tight, bubbly arse; firm breasts heaving with excitement; and between her legs, a thick, erect cock, curving slightly upward above the folds of her pussy.
Surreal. Intriguing.
“Should we take this inside, cowboy?” Diane said gently, taking Alex’s hand and leading him out of the hot tub.
Inside the bedroom, towels discarded, Diane took the lead. She guided his hand, showed him what was between her thighs and how she liked it. His confusion melted into fascination as he watched her respond, her cock hardening further in his grip as her folds glistened with arousal.
Diane lay down on the bed, then turned so her head hung off the edge. Reaching for his legs, she pulled him forward and engulfed his length, now twitching wildly, into her throat.
Instinct took over.
Alex began to thrust into her mouth, sinking his full length each time until he felt his heavy balls press against her nose. He leaned forward, playing with her amazing breasts, pinching and tweaking her nipples, causing her to moan around his cock.
As his hesitation melted away, he leaned further forward and brushed his hand over her cock, then down to her folds. She was so wet that his fingers slid in with surprising ease as he began to fuck her pussy and her throat at the same time.
After a couple of minutes, Diane pushed him away and spun around on the bed. Cheeks red, eyes glazed with tears of joy, lipstick smudged, she looked a hot, sexy mess.
Looking up at him as she leaned back onto her elbows, she whispered, “Taste me,” the corners of her mouth flickering with a smile.
Kneeling beside the bed between her smooth, strong legs, Alex didn’t break eye contact. He took a couple of deep breaths to steady his nerves and slowly leaned in.
His brain was blank, his body taking over, and the second his nostrils filled with the scent of her arousal, he knew he was committed.
Hesitant at first, then bolder, her gasps urged him on. Inch by inch, he took her into his mouth, unsure what to do until he thought back to their date in the kitchen and copied her technique.
Her moans drove him on, encouraged him to take her deeper, until he felt her wetness on his chin as he bobbed up and down. His fingers slid back inside again and curved upward, searching. Her loud gasp and bucking hips told him he’d found exactly what he was looking for.
Diane pulled him up, flipped him onto his back, and straddled him. It was familiar and new all at once. She sank onto his rigid cock in a single motion, like a cowgirl mounting a horse, and rode him hard pussy tight and wet around him, arse bouncing as her cock slapped his stomach with each thrust.
It was sensory overload.
Alex hadn’t had much experience back home in Surrey, but nothing had ever felt like this. Penis aside, he was in heaven. Diane was a free spirit, riding him like a wild woman, moaning loudly as Alex massaged her breasts. The sound of her wetness against him as she drove her pelvis down seemed to push her closer and closer to the edge.
Then she stopped.
Froze on him, his cock still buried deep inside her.
“You can’t cum yet,” she said sweetly, looking down at him as he fought for control.
“I’m trying, but you’re too good,” he groaned through gritted teeth.
“I have an idea,” she said, sliding off him and walking to the unit of drawers in the corner. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course. Anything,” Alex replied, grateful for the pause.
She reached into the bedside drawer and withdrew a small pump bottle of creamy liquid. Positioning herself between his thighs, Diane looked up at him as she ran a lube-covered finger over his untouched arse.
“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” It was a statement, not a question.
Alex just nodded.
She slid one finger in and out a few times, then added more gel and a second finger. After a few minutes, the sensation shifted from strange to pleasurable, and Diane’s smile widened.
Lining herself up with his slick, puckered hole, she pushed forward slowly, carefully, until her mushroom head sank into him. The burn softened into something breathtaking.
Before long, discomfort gave way to pleasure. She began to thrust with intent, taking his virgin hole for her own. Alex matched her pace with his trembling strokes, his cock swollen and purple, but suddenly she twitched and pulled out.
They came together in tangled limbs and hoarse cries, her release spilling hot across his skin, arching through the air to mix with his own. His torso became a glazed patchwork of cum.
Afterwards, exhausted and entwined, Alex traced every line of her body.
“That was… intense,” he murmured. “But good. Really good.”
She chuckled, kissing his shoulder. “Glad you stuck around, farm boy.”
