Chapter Eleven
Grady
“Very ...very muchso.”
Chet’s voice is barely above a whisper, but not quite a croak.I take his hand and hoist him up from the deck chair, smelling shampoo in his still-damp hair as he comes up to just under my chin.
“I’ve never ...never had someone offer themselves to me before,” I admit, taking him by the hand.It’s soft and damp and trembling, just like Caleb’s was that day so long ago, and yet?Never far from my mind.
“Well, I am,” he insists, leaning up on his fancy sandals with his pretty pink lips pursed for a kiss.
“Not here,” I murmur, dragging him gently inside, where the camera can no longer see.
“Paranoid much?”he mutters, clasping my hand in his own.
“You want a sex tape floating around out there?”I tease, sliding the sliding glass door shut behind me as we sink onto the living room couch as if we can’t wait another single moment to taste each other’s hot, willing flesh.
“Are you offering?”he mutters, curling up beside me as the leather creaks beneath his tight little body.His lips are damp and gently parted, his brown eyes wispy and hungry beneath his damp black curls.
“Let’s keep this private,” I insist, leaning over to kiss him hungrily.His lips are soft, like his hands.Like I know his cock will be stiff and hard in my greedy mouth.Like I know his tight little ass will be, reddening beneath my big, rough hand.
“I like the way you think,” he murmurs in my ear, tugging off my ball cap and running his fingers through my hair.“I like the way you feel.I like the way youmakeme feel, Grady.”
“Howdo I make you feel?”I grunt, tugging at his top before he bats my hand away and deftly peels away the three pearly white buttons until it falls open, revealing a smooth, pale, tightly chiseled chest.Soft pink nipples stiffen before my very eyes, begging to be sucked and licked and lapped at.
He clings to the back of my head as I do just that, savoring his slick, stiff flesh as he murmurs and moans and whimpers from my touch.“Fuck, that’s good cowboy,” he mutters, almost absently, as if indulging in some private fantasy swirling around up there in his Tinsel Town imagination.I let him.After all?Fucking a tight little city boy silly all week?Has always been pretty high on my Fuck It List, too.
My hand drifts down his soft, fluttering belly, deftly tugging the drawstring of his linen pants wide open.His cock springs free, stiff, slick, pale, and sturdy.“Mmmm,” he mutters as I tug the pants free, and he helps, kicking them off until they nearly catch on fire, sailing past a candle on their way to the opposite side of the living room.“Fucking hell, you’re good at this.”
“You make it easy,” I insist, pressing him back into the couch as I sink to my knees between his pale, creamy thighs.“With a body like yours, baby.”
He leans back, spreading his arms along the top of the couch and spreading his thighs even wider.“Baby,” he murmurs, even as he readies himself to be serviced.“I said I’m yours.This ...this is my job.”
“I take care of what’s mine,” I growl, peppering one thigh with wet, thirsty kisses before kissing down the other.“And right now?Right here?I’m going to take such good care of you, baby.”
He nods, breathless, eyes wide and stiff, a six-incher standing ramrod straight out of his predictably tended bush.“I knew you’d have hair like this,” I mutter, dragging a thick forefinger along the skinny, satiny black landing strip leading straight to the base of his cock.
“Sorry to be so predictable, Cowboy,” he stammers uncertainly.
“Only thing predictable about you, Chet, is how fast I’m going to make you blast down my throat.”
He gulps, Adam’s apple throbbing as I wink up at him from between his trembling legs.“Jesus, Grady, I was just ...I mean...”
I ignore his protests, gobbling the tip as I taste the first of him, but far from the last.He is wet, the salty, tangy precum like the finest wine as I swallow his slick excitement.He’s a verbal lover, not that I’m complaining.Every lick up his satiny shaft earns a soft, low, primal murmur.Every suck of his bulbous, leaking tip sends off a litany of hissing, imaginative curses.His body is loud, too, trembling beneath my touch as I grip his knees to spread his legs wider as his thick, smooth sac dances along the dark leather seat cushion beneath him.
The only time he’s silent is when his eyes beg for permission to thrust, pump, and fuck my open mouth.I smirk around his skinny shaft, winking and trying to nod, but his erection is too stiff, forcing me to grunt like a pig in heat in reply.
He understands me anyway.Or maybe he was just pretending to ask for permission.I don’t mind.This is what I wanted, after all.This is what I’ve been craving all day, ever since he strutted into my office in his tailored slacks and stylish pullover, those veiny hands and wispy curls like catnip to this sex-starved cowboy who’s gone too long between trips to the dingy little gay bar two counties over.
I feast on his flesh, savoring every veiny inch as I make quick work of deep throating him until my thick, bruised lips are pressed tight against his throbbing mound.He gasps at the sensation, heat, and damp desire enrobing his sturdy little prick.The leather creaks beneath him as his ass shifts to thrust ever deeper as I smile at his boyish enthusiasm.
