“Say, ‘I’m such a good boy, Oliver.’”
“Ung-gugged,” Puck moaned.
“Try to say it.”
“Ugh?”
“Because I love to hear you struggle.”
“U-a-hug-gah.”
I interpreted that asYou’re a sick man, which was accurate.I laughed.
“Yep.Nowsayit.”I had two fingers in Puck’s ass and I’d located the spot I wanted to tease and stroke until he shouted my name and came all over my bedsheets.
“Ang-hug-uh”—he cried out as my hand circled his cock—“gug-guh!”
“Oliver,” I prompted, pumping his cock with one hand and fucking him gently with my fingers.
“UH-UH-UHGUGA!”he shouted through the gag, spurting hard and shaking under my hand.
I truly hoped none of the trainers were on the floor at this time.They should have been either getting some lunch or preparing for their afternoon sessions.
Puck rode the pleasure of his orgasm and collapsed to the bedding, right into his own wet spot.
He grunted with exhaustion.I took the gag out and kissed him.
“You bastard,” he murmured.
I kissed him again.“Sweet baby.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, a smile on his sweaty face.
*
WE DIDN’T MEETthe next day because I had work to do.Real work, involving polishing the images I’d chosen and putting a slideshow together for the weekend.I had let him know I’d be busy all day, and he’d said he didn’t mind, and he had a good book to read in the bunkhouse.And that maybe he should show a bit more interest in the other ponyboys.I’d raised my eyes, and he’d stressed that it would be a purely platonic interest, as his ass only had the strength for one sexual attachment at a time, apparently.
The following morning, I wandered over to the arena when I knew Kamal would be training my beautiful boy.Or attempting to train him.I brought my handheld, since I already had enough from the tripod to keep my busy.
The day was stunning—bright and hot—but the hanging humidity had dissipated.Still, sweat beaded on the back of my neck as I approached the second paddock.
Puck was in his basic ponyboy gear, but his arms had been left unbuckled.Probably because there were a couple of low oxers in the paddock this afternoon, and Kamal was having Puck jump over them—a task that would prove extra hard with one’s arms pinioned.
Kamal saw me before Puck did.He waved me over and came to meet me at the fence.It was difficult to drag my gaze away from the sweaty young man in leather harness and dirty boots, muscles moving beneath soft skin, as he maneuvered over the small jumps.
“Oliver.”
“Kamal.”
Kamal folded his arms on the top rail of the fence and assessed me silently for a moment.
“What?”
“Hmm.I don’t know what you did, but our ornery little mess of a ponyboy is performing exquisitely today.He’s done everything I’ve asked, without issue.”
“WhatIdid?I don’t know what you’re—”
“Although I sincerely doubt a good fucking is what brought on this behaviour.”Kamal checked me out in a slow sexual way and smirked.“Although, you never know.”
