I stepped back, this close to purring. “Oh yeah, please do strip for me, Sheriff Ahoka.”
“I love it when you get that tone in your voice,” he said as he divested himself of his heavy belt. “I need to take care of my weapon.”
“Mmhmm, you sure do.” I stepped closer as he rolled his eyes. When I pressed myself against him, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, he stopped rolling those pretty eyes of his. “I think you need to fire off a load.” I slid my hand between us to cup his hard cock. He moaned hot and low. “Are you getting off on my dirty cop talk?”
“Not really, but that hand on my dick is doing the trick,” he replied before lowering his head to cover my mouth with his. His tongue went deep, probing, touching, sliding over teethas I rubbed his prick through the rough khaki material of his summer uniform. “Shit, okay, I’m too close to firing off.”
“Now who’s talking dirty cop talk?” I breathlessly asked. That got me a wicked smile. “Will you handcuff me to your bed and frisk me? A cavity search sounds exciting.” I gave his cock a firm squeeze that made him grunt in pleasure.
“When we get done washing up, I’ll show you just how thorough a cavity searcher I am.” He kissed me hard and fast and gently eased me back a step. “Meet you in the bathroom.”
I nodded, seeing that he wished to properly take care of his revolver, so I reached down to adjust my dick and made my way to the bathroom, feeling his eyes on me as he followed me down the hall. With a sultry smile, I entered the bath, peeled my sweaty clothes off, and turned on the shower. I never heard him coming in behind me. When his arms encircled me, I jumped, swore, and turned to scold him. The scolding died on my lips as he was nude now, gloriously so, and his hands found my ass. I slammed my lips into his, grasping at his short black hair as he backed me into the stall. Closing the door was tricky. The shower was not built for two men, especially when one possessed the breadth of shoulder that Ollie had, but we found a way to make the cramped quarters work.
It was pretty simple really. After I got him lathered up from head to toe and all points in between, I went to my knees. He pressed both hands out, one to the glass door, the other to the tiled wall as I rubbed at the lingering soap bubbles in his ebony pubic hair. I held his cock to his belly and watched as the water streamed over his dangling balls. Keeping his dick tight to his lower abs, I took one orb into my mouth and sucked sloppily.
“Fuck, Dodge, fuck that is so damn good,” he moaned from above. I moved to the other, enjoying the weight of his ball on my tongue and then in my mouth.
“I want you to come on my face,” I said after releasing one of his nuts. I released my hold of his cock. It fell down to bounce off my nose. I chased it with my mouth, my hands on his thick thighs, and finally got the fat head between my lips. He rocked forward, just an inch, and I took him down my throat with ease. I was pretty skilled in most things oral after all. Wait until I feasted on his tight ass…
“Oh damn,” he growled when I took him to the root. “Fuck you look good with my cock in your mouth.”
He carded his fingers into my short red hair and began rocking to and fro, fucking my mouth and throat. I moaned around his dick, my cock close to bursting, while he pumped in and out faster and faster.
“Coming…” He pulled out with a pop, spurting all over my face. Warm ropes of cum dotting my lips, cheeks, and brow. He gasped and groaned and wiped the oozing head of his cock along my still-open mouth. Water and spunk ran into my mouth, followed by his prick. I sucked on the head hard, pulling a harsh moan from him as more cum coated my tongue. He was salty, bitter, and delicious. I grasped my cock, gave it a few tugs, and shot my load over his toes. He wiggled them as the water washed my spend down the drain. “Fucking hell, Dodge, you are one masterful cocksucker.” He reached down to help me up. Up and right into his arms, where he kissed me with wild hunger. The kisses calmed as our blood cooled. I ran my hands over his shoulders, back, and tight ass as he dropped pecks to my neck then pulled on my earlobe with his teeth.
“I wish I could shower like that all the time,” I confessed as I licked some warm water off his skin. “Long and leisurely with no siblings or a kid banging on the door. Just me, my lover, and hot water.”
“Come over more often, and we can do that and more.” His fingers delved between my ass cheeks, sending a jolt to my balls when he found my hole. “I’d love to fuck you into my bed next.”
“I’d love that too.” I was a versatile guy who loved to pound and be pounded in equal measure. “I think there was mention of handcuffs and cavity searches?”
That made him chuckle beside my ear. “That can be arranged.”
We left the shower, inspired to get to the cuffing and fucking. “You go get things ready. I’m going to grab something cold to drink for afterward,” I said after blotting him off with a towel. He nodded before leaving me in the steamy bath, water droplets on my back and legs cooling me off nicely. I ran my fingers through my short hair and tucked two towels over the towel racks to dry. I was a man on a mission. I darted out into the kitchen in my birthday suit, found a couple of bottles of energy drinks on the door and closed the fridge with my hip. Eager to be back in his arms, I hurried to his room, drinks in hand, cock half hard. “I found some of these blue raspberry cans on the door. I used to guzzle these things by the case when I was plodding through my coursework and residency. My roommate at the time was huge into the watermelon flavors, but they gave me heartburn, but maybe that was the jolt of caffeine and not—”
I paused in the doorway and smiled. Ollie was spread out over the bed—sound asleep. His long legs splayed wide, offering me a tantalizing view of his ass and balls. Soft little snores wafted skyward into the ceiling fan whirring overhead.
“We’ll pick this up later.” I placed the cans on the dresser and proceeded to cover him up. I placed a kiss on his bare shoulder, the one with the white surgery scar, and grabbed the cans and made my way out of the bedroom. Along the way, I picked up my clothes and stepped into my briefs in the kitchen, while nursing a can of blue raspberry carbonated get-up-and-go. This reminded me of my days in college, slurping down energy drinkswhile in my underwear. I belched loudly. Yep, just like at UCLA School of Dentistry minus the obnoxious roommates. Those were back at the ranch.
I snickered softly and burped again. My brothers weren’t nearly as bad as a dorm filled with twenty-somethings. Ford was the only Bastian in his twenties, and he ran shy and quiet. I recalled my mother once commenting that she was so proud to see her only son doing so well and how proud she was of me. She’d managed not only to raise me as a single mother but also get me into college and through all those years of schooling. I missed her greatly. Pity we’d had that falling out. I should reach out to her and see if we could mend fences. She’d not seen Dahn in over a year. To be honest, Mom had been right about Chris. I’d just been in denial and refused to listen to her criticisms. While I’d not cut her off from Dahn, I had been cold. Mayhap it was time to offer up an apology. For her, for me, and for Dahn, who I had to pick up in ten minutes. Guess it was a good thing we hadn’t gotten to getting the cuffs out. Next time. I downed my drink, left a note on the magnetized notepad on the fridge, and bolted out the door, locking it behind me.
Dahn was leaning on the car when I arrived, covered in sweat—dear Lord, would this humidity and ragweed ever let up—and feeling a little lightheaded from all the caffeine I’d ingested.
“You’re late,” the lad said with a chilly glance at me. “You look funny. Were you off kissing the sheriff again?”
“I was at Ollie’s, yes. We had lunch together. I look funny because I drank a monster-sized can of something called Jolt Your Sox Off or something and now feel like I could outrun Willy the goat buck.” That made him smile, just for a second, but I saw it. “Maybe we should go back to the ranch and have goat races?”
“Nah, it’s too hot.”
“True.” I belched for so long I thought I might pass out. That my son found hilarious. “Wow, that was a ten for sure. Let’s go home then and not race goats.”
We bundled ourselves into the car and sat quietly for a moment, waiting for the air conditioning to get itself in gear and blow cold. Once it did, we both sighed.
“Did you have a good livestock handling class?” I asked, backing out and heading through Bastian Grange at a slow twenty-five miles per hour.
“Yeah, I think I’ll do good at the fair. Mr. Williams, the head of the junior livestock show, said they would be pushing the fair back two weeks to let the fields dry out. So that gives me more time to get my goat in shape. We need to call the vet to come out and give her an exam, then we need to shampoo and clip her. Do you think Uncle Baker can help?”
“Maybe? I don’t know if clipping cows and clipping goats are the same or not. Do any of your friends know?”
