He was thinking of the stories told about how this farm had come into family hands. This place feels like a friend as well as my home, Gus thought. Mo...e so than that apartment I have in St. Louis.Gus' great, great grandparents had migrated north and slightly east from the West Texas plains during the Great Depression in 1935. Things had been tough in Texas, maybe more so than the rest of the country. Not only were there no jobs, there was a serious drought that made farming almost impossible.. Not yet. I found something much more interesting, and I hope he wants me to keep going."Does that help you at all?" he asked rhetorically.I broke into a delighted smile. "Yes." You can call me Mike, you know." An answering smile warmed his voice."You feel so good to me, Mike," I confessed, his name both strange and exhilarating on my lips."It feels wonderful to hear you say that." He eased his hand away to let mine explore him on its own. "And to feel that you mean it."Still self-blinded, I ran. He was wearing the blue dress I bought him for Christmas, the one that was so short his dick showed if lacy panties weren't holding it in. Long blond tresses fell over his shoulders and his green eyes glistened like diamonds. I couldn't wait to rip his dress off and explore the treats it was hiding."Ouch!" I said again and flicked another flea off my face. "Little fuckers. They're gonna eat me alive."Steve laughed. "Come with me," he said. He took my hand and led me down the hall to the. I peeped through the hole and I could only see the chest area of a man in a blue shirt. I picked up a towel and opened the door to find my watchman in fresh clothes and smelling of soap and a bath. He smiled at me and didn’t say a word, only walked inside pulling my towel away. I quickly and quietly closed and locked the door. I offered the watchman food and water, both of which he refused and instead called me to him. He was sitting on the sofa and just commanded me to come to him. He made me.