My name is Mike but my friends like to call me by my last name - Carter - especially when I they get annoyed with me. I live in southwestern Colorado, a great area for off-road activity.

I like to drop in on my ever-so-butch and handsome buddy Tom every now and then. He works in the maintenance shop at a nearby National Forest where there are a lot of trails for Jeeps, ATVs and dirt bikes. I was returning from a short business trip on a Friday afternoon and decided to blow off the rest of the day to enjoy some time in the great outdoors instead of going back to my office.

Tom and I have been riding dirt bikes and going Jeeping together for years and he doesn't mind getting muddy while we are out on the trails, which is why we get along so well. I drove over to his shop and was delighted to see that he was dressed in his usual dirty faded 501s, 16" Whites wildland fire boots, a khaki western-style shirt and baseball cap.

I greeted Tom with a loud "Hey!" but he did not seem to be in a good mood. I asked what was wrong.

"Mac, one of our seasonal employees, got really drunk with some buddies last night and managed to get a government ATV stuck in some deep mud on our worst trail. Then they tore up the area with their 4x4 trucks. He abandoned the ATV and hitched a ride back to his cabin with his drunken friends. He got fired this morning."

"Wow! So now what?"

"I have to go clean out his cabin and retrieve the ATV."

"Want some help?"

"Sure bud, you're just in time. I always enjoy having you around to amuse me," was his response. It probably wasn't legal for him to have me help but the forest supervisor was in the next county and he never came over to Tom's shop on a Friday afternoon.

I got into Tom's government F350 4x4 truck with the big mud tires and winch and we set off to the location of the ranger cabins. After a beautiful ride through the woods we got to our destination and hopped out of the truck. There were 6 cabins in the compound with a small office in the middle. Everyone was either gone for the weekend or out on patrol so the place was deserted.

We entered the cabin and found it to be a bit messy but the real evidence of the previous night's activity was on the back porch. A pile of muddy clothes and boots were piled near the steps. At least Mac had the good sense to get undressed before entering the cabin. There was a trail of muddy footprints into the bathroom and the shower stall also had mud splattered all over.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"I need to clean up the mess and clean out any stuff he left behind," he said. "Since you have on clean clothes, why don't you empty the closet and drawers and strip the bed."

Mac had taken his personal stuff and clean civilian clothes but he left behind his uniforms and evidently did not want to take his dirty clothes, which were piled on the floor of the closet. I asked Tom what to do with them?

"Get some trash bags out of my truck. The uniforms and bedding go back to central supply to be laundered. The rest of the stuff will go in the trash."

I got the plastic bags and as I was sorting out the clothes I saw the leather label on the back of the jeans I realized that Mac was my size. There was one pair of Levis shrink-to-fit 501s, several t-shirts, a nice denim western-style work shirt with the pearl snaps, some tall wool boot socks and an old pair of hiking boots.

I walked over to the bathroom where Tom was busy cleaning the mud out of the shower.

"Since you are going to throw these clothes out, can I have them?" I asked.

He looked up from where he was kneeling in the shower and saw the Levis and shirts in my hands. "You're such a perv!" he exclaimed. "I'll bet you want to wear them before you wash them."

I put the underarm area of one of the t-shirts up to my nose and sniffed.

"Mmmmm, honest sweat and hunky man pheromones!" I said with a huge grin on my face. "And besides, if I am going to help you get that ATV unstuck I don't want to get my nice clothes all dirty."

"Yeah, sure, you can have them. Just don't let my boss see you beating off in them. And as long as you are going to put on some dirty clothes, you can go clean up that muddy mess on the back porch while I finish up inside."

There's something about putting on someone else's gear that really gets me going. I felt my manhood coming to attention with just the thought of putting on the dirty clothes of the former ranger. I had no idea what Mac looked like but the smell of his sweat was giving me a major boner. I went back out into the main room and stripped off my clothes. My hard dick stood straight out as I pulled on Mac's 501s. Evidently he wore them commando like I do because I found no underpants in the pile of dirty clothes.

The fit was perfect and I thought I was going to shoot a load on the spot as I buttoned up the fly. My balls were caressed by the perfect fit of the denim and I ran my hands around on my butt and crotch, feeling how nice and snug they were on my body.

I pulled on the tall wool boot socks, sniffed the pits of the t-shirt again before I put it on and then put on the denim work shirt, along with the hiking boots I found in the closet. They were a perfect fit and I liked their look. After stripping the bed and getting the closet and drawers cleaned out I put the bags of clothes and sheets in Tom's truck and headed around to the back of the cabin to clean off the porch.

The clothes in the pile were a mass of thick tan clay mud. My boner re-activated in an instant. I found a hose on the side of the cabin and rolled it out to rinse the mud off the clothes. As I pulled apart the pile I realized that the Vibram boot soles that I had seen belonged to a pair of very tall logger boots. They weighed a ton with all the mud on them. I put them on a nearby tree stump and set the nozzle to a strong stream so I could get the mud off.

I just about creamed my 501s when my cleaning revealed that they were a beautiful pair of brown 20" tall Viberg logger boots! Who leaves such incredibly expensive boots behind? Mac must have been pretty shaken by his firing to have left them on the back porch.

Either that or his hangover kept him from thinking clearly. I felt terribly guilty as I grabbed a rag out of Tom's truck and sat down on the porch to dry the inside of the boots after hosing the mud out. Feeling that beautiful thick leather rubbing against my crotch was too much and I shot a load of jizz into the pair of Mac's Levis that I was wearing.

Tom was still busy inside the cabin and there was no one else around the compound so I decided to put on the boots. They were a size 13 a bit big for my size 12 feet but the thick wool boot socks took up the extra space nicely. I decided to tuck the legs of the 501s inside the boot shafts so I could admire them in their full glory as I worked. Fuck, I never wanted to take these boots off again they felt so good on my feet. The tall shafts held my legs in bondage all the way up to my knees.

I finished hosing off the rest of the clothes another pair of 501s and wool boot socks, t-shirt, a nice yellow and black buffalo plaid flannel shirt and a Levis jacket. Mac had the same taste in clothes as I did. I put them on the railing of the porch to drip off for a while and went inside the cabin to see how Tom was doing.

"Holy batshit, look at you!" was Tom's exclamation as he saw me in Mac's clothes and boots. "You two could have been twins," he said laughing. "How many times have you cum in his gear?" he asked. Tom knew me all too well.

"Only once so far," I said.

"Well judging from the size of the wet spot on the crotch of your 501s it was a good one! The day is still young and we have some dirty work to do yet so we will probably get to make it bigger," he said. I laughed, knowing that he was right.

We cleaned out the refrigerator and did the dishes and then Tom kicked me out while he mopped the floors. I threw the wet clothes from the back porch railing into another bag in the bed of the truck. Soon we were headed up one of the back roads to the spot where Mac had gotten the ATV stuck.

A recent rain had left the roads quite wet in spots with a lot of standing water and muddy areas. We came to a spot that was so sloppy that Tom had to switch to 4WD to keep moving. The big lugs on the mud tires were flinging quite a roost of mud above and behind us and some of it was hitting the roof and hood of the truck with a "thuck" as it landed.

Finally we got to a meadow and up ahead we saw the ATV. It was in the middle of a big churned up area with some serious ruts from the previous night, buried in the mud up almost to the top of the tires. We got out of the truck and stepped into mud that was about six inches deep. When I stepped into it I watched those newly cleaned Viberg boots get sucked back into the mud again and they looked right at home. As I walked through the slop the mud stuck in the Vibram lugs and soon built up to quite a mass around the bottom of each boot.

Tom handed me a pair of thick, well-worn leather gloves and put on another pair himself. He put the winch on the front of the truck into neutral and we started pulling out the cable. As we got closer to the ATV the mud got deeper and more slippery. We ran out of cable about 25 feet short of the ATV. Tom was worried that he would get the truck stuck if he drove much closer but it didn't look like we had a choice. The four-wheeler was buried so deep we would never get it out on its own.

While I pulled on the winch cable, he inched the truck forward in the muck until he reached the edge of a really soft deep hole and that was as far as he wanted to go. Even with a tow strap on the end of the winch cable we were still 4 feet short of the ATV.

Mac had left the key in the ATV so I got on and tried to start it. After coughing a few times the engine came to life but the throttle was stuck on idle. As Tom was walking around the back of the ATV it suddenly became unstuck, the engine roared, the wheels spun and I blasted a huge roost of wet sloppy mud off the rear tires and all over Tom.

I turned around to look at the damage. Even though I backed off the throttle almost as soon as it broke free, in just a few seconds most of his body had been sprayed with a thick layer of wet tan clay mud. I had blown the cap off his head and the mud was running down his face. He did not look happy. I jumped out of the seat of the ATV to help him get the mud out of his face.

"Carter, you are going to pay for this!" he said as I handed him my handkerchief.

We got some water out of the orange jug mounted on the truck and he splashed it on his face and head to wash off the mud. We had gotten muddy together many times in the past so I knew that during his silence while cleaning up he was plotting exactly how to get even.

When we slogged through the deep thick mud back to the ATV he told me the plan. Tom would get on the ATV and try to rock it back and forth to get it up to the winch cable and I was to push from behind. It sounded like a guaranteed mud bath to me and I wasn't complaining. I had seen an open-face ATV helmet and goggles in Tom's truck and I told him that I was going back to get them.

When I got back he was ready so I planted my Viberg-booted feet in the mud for a good grip and Tom began the back and forth play of the gears to try to get the ATV to move ahead. Despite my pushing, and getting totally covered in mud, we made little progress. Each time Tom hit the throttle to move forward the wheels spun, throwing a spray of mud all over me.

As I leaned forward I felt it flowing down inside my t-shirt. At one point there was so much mud inside my shirt I pulled out the waistband of my 501s to let it flow down into my crotch and down my legs. Oh man that felt so good when I did that. Tom finally decided that we would have to dig. The skid plate on the bottom of the four wheeler was high-centered and the wheels were spinning in the ruts on either side.

He went back to the truck, got two shovels and we began to dig out the area in front of the ATV. Soon we were throwing mud at each other, putting handfuls of mud down inside each other's Levis and then an all out wrestling match in the slop ensued. The mid-afternoon sun was hot and the mud was nice and warm perfect for some man-to-man mud play. We had done this many times before and even though Tom is smaller than I am he is very fit and quite strong.

We took turns being on top, grinding our crotches into each other's denim-clad butts. Then as we were both reaching the point of no return Tom turned me over on my back, mounted me and ground his crotch into mine. We both exploded into our 501s at the same time.

"Fuck man, I haven't felt an orgasm like that since the last time we did this!" he said.

"Yeah, that sure was incredibly intense," I responded.

It was times like this that I wished Tom weren't a married man. Every time we got together for a mudding session we always had an incredible time. He laid there on top of my chest, his bearded cheek pressed against mine for several minutes as we caught our breath. As the endorphin rush slowly dissipated we both knew that it was time to get back to work.

Reluctantly we got up and dug several feet of dense mud away from in front of the ATV which was keeping it from making forward progress. This time when Tom hit the gas and I pushed, it moved far enough to attach the tow strap to the hooks on the front of the four-wheeler frame.

Tom got out some plastic sheeting and put it over the truck seat and I got on the four-wheeler. Five minutes later we had the ATV up on relatively firm ground. After winding the winch cable back on the drum Tom turned the truck around and got the ramp attached to the back of the truck. He skillfully ran the four-wheeler up the ramp and into the bed of the truck.

At that point we headed over to the nearby creek to clean up. The water was warm and we horsed around as we stripped to wash the mud off our gear. Once again I cleaned off those beautiful tall logger boots and silently thanked Mac for leaving them behind. Tom admired them and lamented that they were far too big for his size 10 feet otherwise he said he would pull rank on me and take them himself. Not that his Whites were not beautiful boots but the tall Vibergs were a damn impressive sight.

We let our wet clothes and boots dry a bit in the sun while enjoying a bit of sun bathing. I never tired of looking at Tom's trim and defined body. He is quite furry and he knew that I found him incredibly attractive. But he was in love with his wife and I was surprisingly content to be his occasional playmate. There are so few guys around here who get into mud play that it was either share someone or go solo all the time. I think we both found it a good compromise.

In an hour the bright sun had dried our clothes most of the way so we got dressed and headed back to his maintenance shop. Once the four-wheeler was off the truck we took everything out of the truck bed and got out the pressure washer. I soaked the ATV but there was so much mud caked on it we ended up having to pull off big chunks by hand for a while. Not surprisingly that led to more mud play between the two of us.

Eventually we got it clean and turned our attention to the truck. It too had a lot of mud in the wheel wells and in the bed. We were working up a good sweat as we pulled out the heavy clay mud by hand. While I was up in the truck bed Tom turned on the foaming brush attachment and started to cover me in foam.

Soon there was a mound of foam in the bed of the truck and I pulled Tom in and directed the foam down inside his 501s. He did the same with my shirt and Levis and soon we were both sliding around inside our foam-filled clothes.

We scooped the foam out of the truck bed onto the piles of mud we had pulled off the truck and started wrestling again. Soon we were covered in a frothy combination of mud and foam. Tom's bubble butt looks amazing in a snug pair of 501s and eventually I had him face down, grinding his crotch into the mud while I was on top of him grinding mine into his denim-covered butt. We both shot our loads at the same time again and then enjoyed laying there in the slop, our body heat seeming to flow back and forth.

I knew it was going to be a while before we had a chance to play again and so did Tom. I held him tight in my arms and he did not move. He likes the feeling of my weight on top of him and the amazing adventures of the day caused our mud-man bond to grow even stronger.

But with the sun getting lower on the horizon it was getting cooler so we reluctantly got up, hosed each other off (playing with the water stream in the crotch area!) and then finished cleaning up the truck. I've always wanted to shower with Tom but he knows that I would get randy in the shower with him and he is not ready to play around naked like that with another guy.

"Do you want to change clothes?" he asked.

"No I want to wear Mac's Levis and boots home," I said with a big grin on my face. "Thanks for a great day."

"Keep enjoying your new gear buddy - always good to see you."

I put the rest of Mac's clothes in the back of my truck and put a plastic sheet over the seat. I gave Tom a thumbs-up as I left. And I silently thanked Mac for the good timing of his drunken mudding as I enjoyed the feeling of his boots and 501s hugging my body all the way home.