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Hi there, welcome to Hale's Farm, my name is Tristan Hale, single pawed owner and worker of the agricultural farm handed down to me by my folks, Lyla and Paul Hale. For four years now I have been what you might call chief cook and bottle washer, oh sure I have advertised jobs in the local newspapers, in local shop windows, hell I have even installed job boards at the entrance of the farm's driveway but so far I remain alone and I have to tell you, I don't know how much longer I can keep up with the punishing schedule.

I am a Rottweiler by breed and I've just celebrated my 40th birthday, I also have a fondness for a fine piece of male butt, but alas I can't seem to find someone who will share my farm and my bed. I do go out to the local clubs when money and tiredness allow, but so far my love life resembles the Sahara Desert (baron and dry).

Hale's Farm is a twenty five acre plot totally devoted to Fruit and Vegetables, so I grow potatoes, wheat, carots, and of course lettuce and cabbage, I also have a decent sized orchard that is populated with many fruit trees and I have just recently started a 'Pick Your Own' service for strawberries where customers can come and pick their own fruit, it gives me a nice side income but it also comes with quite a lot of work. I guess you could say that I'm making a rod for my own back.

The farm is situated in the lush green countryside of Devon and I absolutely love it here, but I would love it more if I could find that special someone, someone to love and to share the workload with because let's face it, I'm not exatly getting any younger.

Folks have often asked me why I don't diversify by getting some pigs and cows, and yes they would be a great addition to the farm, but it would cost me quite a lot of money to upgrade the farm plus there is the added work and responsibility so I have decided to continue just growing and selling produce.

A lot of what I grow goes to local supermarkets and while they don't pay megu bucks it is enough to keep the Wolf from the door, of course, anything that the supermarkets don't use I sell in my own farm shop.

Friday night is fast approaching and I have decided to go out for the night, obviously, I will be going to one of the local gay bars, who knows maybe I will find someone who is up for more than just a one night stand. For now, though it's back to work, I need to make sure that the farm is in tip top condition.

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Friday night, finally I can put on some decent jeans and a clean white shirt, topped off with a black leather jacket. I have already given my truck a good clean inside and out, hehe well if I get lucky tonight I can't have my prospective partner getting all mucky, well not from my work at least.

I finally pull into the parking area behind Tasker's, one of the more...descreet gay bars in town, this is a bar where you can get a quiet drink and maybe something to eat without the pounding beat of some sort of dance track, a place where you can hear what your hopeful partner is saying or indeed asking.

As I enter the bar there is a mirrored sign that has the name of the bar on it along with it's opening times and phone number, it also serves as a final stop to check how you look before entering what could be the field of dreams.

I'm not one for bragging and all but with the many hours of work that I do on the farm I keep myself in fairly good shape, oh sure I won't win any beauty contests but that doesn't faze me in the slightest.

I find myself a space at the bar and park my butt onto the bar stool and order my first drink, well first and only alcoholic drink that is, after all, I will be driving home at the end of the night. As I wait for my drink I take a look around the bar, so far it's not exactly packed to the rafters but there are a few faces and asses to ponder.

To my right is a Draft Horse nursing a double Scotch, he's not bad looking and hell I certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed for farting, but I have an idea that he would probably split a guy like me in half with what I bet is an impressive Horse endowment. To my left is a well groomed Lion, now again while he is really good looking I feel the need to cross him off my list because let's face facts, cats have barbs, now some guys like that sort of thing but it's not to my preference.

Across the bar, though there is a Dalmatian, and I would say that he is in his early twenties, he's also good looking but at the moment his ass is not in my line of sight. I guess that I must have been staring at him for quite a while because the Hyena behind the bar walks over and blocks my view, he has a really sly grin on his muzzle, he then plants an elbow on the bar top and leans his head on his paw.

"Damn dude, you've got it bad for Mike and hell who can blame you? He has it all, good looks, a sense of humour and the cherry on the cake, a dick and butt to die for, I should know because I have seen what is on offer often enough. That prime piece of Dalmatian is Mike Tasker, son of the owner Pete Tasker."

My Rottweiler pride begins to stir a little, the Hyena continues to talk.

"Yup I have seen the goods but never been able to sample them, I will give you a word of warning though, he has been hurt so many times by guys who promise him the world but in the end, they just use him and abuse him, I won't allow that to happen again and his father is someone that you don't want to get on the wrong side of either."

So, Tristan, do you go in all guns blazing? Or do you dip your toe into the water to see how deep it is?

So I decided to play things slow and gentle, and I bide my time until the bar stool next to Mike becomes vacant. After an hour of waiting the bar stool is vacated by it's occupant and I seize my chance, I pick up my drink, now a soda, and slowly make my way to my next port of call.

As I park myself onto the bar stool I can't help but notice that there is a slight wag to the Dalmatian's tail, I keep mine still, I don't want Mike thinking that I'm an easy lay. When I have been sat there for a few minutes the Dalmatian turns his head to me and speaks.

"So I'm guessing that Nick the bartender told you about my attributes and you decided to come and check 'em out for yourself huh?"

I don't turn my head to face Mike, but I still give him my answer.

"Yes he did tell me what you were packing but me moving to this stool was not an attempt by me to get into your pants it was merely to try to make first contact, I wanted to let you know that I am in no way a threat to you so you have no feer of being hurt by me."

A smile spreads across Mike's muzzle.

"Ah good ole' Nick, always looking out for me, well yes it is true that I have been hurt a time or two, both physically and mentally, but while you were over the other side of the bar I was looking into your eyes from time to time and I didn't see any bad juju there, trust me if I had then you wouldn't be sitting on the stool next to me."

I decide to get another drink and while I'm at it I buy one for Mike too. We sit there until closing time just chatting about this and that until finally I have to make a decision, do I go for broke and take it to the next level? Or do I try to broker a friendship first?

I could do so many wonderful things with Mike tonight but that has the chance of ruining everything and ending up as just another one night stand, so I go for making my first move as one of friendship, hopefully then we can build on that and make something good and real.