He’s your ideal fuck toy. Charming ginger muscle stud with a bright smile. That perfectly muscled body is covered from head to toe in a sweaty country-worked sheen that makes you weak in the knees.

You drive by on your way to camp, looking for fire wood for sale, and spot your fantasy ginger fuck toy working in the summer sun. He’s absolutely perfect. Surely he knows where a fella can get some firewood, you reason, as you can’t help but stop.

A quick pop on the car horn breaks his routine. He turns and smiles as he acknowledges your approach. He fucking drips with country charm – he’s a total god, with a bashful humility that makes you want to fuck him right there.

After explaining your situation (while trying to hide your obvious excitement), he explains he might be able to help you with your wood issue.

He quickly shucks himself out of his shorts with no excess modesty, explaining that he can move things along quicker in the summer heat without the restrictions of his work shorts. He’s a perfect physical specimen. You’ve jacked off to his image a thousand times before. And this hunk is right here in front of you.

You’re drinking in his perfect form as you feel your dick growing painfully hard in your khakis. And somehow you suspect he knows how badly you want him despite never breaking that gaze – he’s staring directly into your eyes as he takes care of your wood needs.

You imagine he swings his axe the way he fucks – powerfully, full force, and with precision. You need to have this fucker right now.

He finishes with the wood but tells you to wait. Within moments, he is showering off all that sweat from handling that axe. Any fleeting thoughts of why he asked you to stay soon float out of your mind as the drops against his skin begin to lure you into a more lustful state. It becomes less about having him… and more about him having you.

As your lucid fantasy continues and your cock strains, your country muscle stud breaks your daydream. The chase is over. He wants you now. That country charm and bashful humility is replaced with a self-assured aggressiveness. You realize this guy is a power plant who can fuck non-stop for hours. You see it in his eyes. Any lingering predatory instincts  retreat. You are now the prey.

After a long hard day, this hunk needs to unload – probably over and over again. He exudes stamina and an animalistic gaze. And you must fulfill his needs. You follow his lead and let him take you. And he does.

He manhandles you roughly for hours. And you’re in absolute heaven. He fucks you over and over and over. This corn-fed stud never stops. And you are his willing cum dump many times over.

The fucking continues until your body takes on his sweaty musky man scent. You feel his muscled body writhe as he pumps you over and over. You ache from being used non-stop. The pain actually pushes you to unload into unconsciousness.

The next morning, you head to your camp site with your load of wood. Your jaw and asshole deserving of a vacation of their own. As you drive away, your country stud, snugs up his boots, pulls on his jacket, and flashes you a dick shot to let you know you’re welcome back on the return trip. After spending a single memorable night with your dream stud, you realize his innocent ginger charm seems much more mature and controlling now. You also realize that his visual “invitation” to return is less of a request and more of a subconscious command.

And as he turns around to put his boots back on, you realize next time he might even let you take a turn – but you get the feeling he’ll likely be the one in charge if he does… just as much of a power bottom as he was a powerful top.

You’ll be leaving your camp site a few days early.