Chapter Fifteen
Dean
“Damn, boy.”
Sully’s voice was low and rich, to match the hazy look in his soft green eyes. “If I’m not mistaken, I’m starting to think you like the taste of your own jizz.”
“Only when it’s mixed with your kisses,” Dean gasped, still flat on his back, socks having drifted down to his ankles and brand new Jockey shorts clinging tightly to his knees. His cock softened as they flirted, pale and pink and glossy as it leaned, gently, to the left.
“Lucky me,” Sully teased, turning on one side to face him as he gently caressed Dean’s cheek with one rough, calloused hand. “Since I’ll never get tired of kissing your sweet little ass.”
“Promise?” Dean practically begged, too overcome by lust and, if he dared admit it, the possibility of love, to feel shame.
Their eyes met in the waning twilight, a quick glance of vulnerability between ass clenching, cock emptying pleasure. “As long as you’re here, Dean,” Sully insisted, foregoing his playful nickname as if to prove it. “I’m all yours.”
Dean nodded, glancing down at his ransacked body—sweaty, sticky, debased, debauched and utterly, literally helpless. “I’m obviously yours, Sully.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Sully chuckled, shifting his weight as if to drift back to where their night had started. “Let’s carb load for round two. Or is it three?”
Dean somehow found the strength to hoist himself up onto his elbows, wriggling so that he crumpled up a pile of pillows at his back.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he teased, leaning the back of his head against the truck’s rear window.
The subtle movement had drifted his Jockey shorts low enough for him to wriggle them off with a single foot.
Thus freed, Dean spread his pale, sticky legs enticingly, admiring the way Sully’s eyes feasted upon his wilted sex once more.
“I don’t think so,” Sully teased, still fully dressed, save for his hat. His poor cowboy hat, crushed and abandoned midway through the first—and obviously best—blow job of Dean’s young, virgin life. “I mean, now that I finally got you off, I’ll get my hat back on and then we can—”
“Get those pants down,” Dean growled, mimicking Sully’s forceful tone of a few moments earlier. “And put that pretty dick of yours where I can taste it.”
“Dean!” Sully chuckled, frozen in place as he knelt a few feet away. “I can’t ... you can’t...”
“You have your fantasies,” Dean pretended to drawl. “And I have mine, now strip, fast, before I lose my nerve!”
Sully dutifully clawed at the gawdy rhinestone buttons of his blue and green plaid cowboy shirt, tugging it free in record time to reveal that rock hard torso, glistening with sweat, maroon nipples already thick and tempting as his big hands fumbled at his gold-plated belt buckle.
“You sure about this?” Sully grunted, making just as quick work of yanking down his jeans to reveal a precum dotted pair of sheer lavender briefs underneath.
Dean nearly snorted at the dichotomy. Belt buckle and blue jeans hiding a sexy pair of sheer lilac undies. “They’re not panties,” Sully insisted, contorting his long, sinewy body until he’d kicked off both boots and tugged off both legs of his faded jeans.
“I wouldn’t care if they were,” Dean insisted, almost disappointed. When Sully reached to tug them free as well, he spat out a harsh, “Nuh uh!”
Sully’s big hands froze on the delicate waistband, not quite frilly but far from manly. “What now?”
“Come closer,” Dean insisted, admiring the outline of his lover’s subtle shaft against the delicate briefs.
“Can’t I take them off first?” Sully croaked, suddenly shy.
“All in good time,” Dean promised as, dutifully, Sully inched forward until he was kneeling with his heavenly crotch in front of Dean’s face. “I mean, why are you so embarrassed?”
“I’m not,” Sully lied. “I mean, they seemed like a good idea at the time, you know?”
“They’re perfect,” Dean insisted, delicately tracing the cock print that pressed against the sheer front panel. “Didn’t you think I’d see them at some point?”
“I mean,” Sully muttered, absently, as if distracted by the way Dean’s finger followed a single, throbbing vein from base to the tip. “I was hoping to distract you while I got them off.”
“With what?” Dean chortled. “A passing tumbleweed?”
They chuckled quietly as Dean’s hands drifted around to clutch Sully’s taut, thick ass.
“Mmm,” he murmured his approval as Dean’s hands glanced up and down, gentle caresses and soft, slow strokes that helped push a single drop of precum from the tip as it spread against the front panel.
“Fuck, baby, your hands are like heaven.”
“Wait’ll you meet my mouth,” Dean promised as, insistently, he pressed Sully forward so that his raging hard-on could glance against the gently parted lips awaiting it.
Even through the clingy, sheer material, some space age poly blend Sully had obviously bought online, Dean could feel the heat of his lover’s lust. Taste it, too, tangy precum savory and sweet on his swirling tongue.
“Fuck, Dean, I... I...” Sully’s hands reached out.
At first, Dean thought they might grip his bare shoulders, still sweaty from the sultry spring air.
Instead he gripped the roof of his truck, the subtle motion pressing his cock closer to Dean’s awaiting lips.
The pressure was intense, subtle but obvious.
Sully wanted this as much as Dean did. Either that, or his cock was the best actor this side of porn star Dick Nolte!
Dean readied himself, hands drifting up the dimpled sides of Sully’s clenched ass cheeks to draw and drag the waistband slowly, inevitably, deliciously down. His cock sprang free, too eager by far, pointing straight ahead as if desperate to meet Dean as well.
Sully felt its heat, admired its glistening girth, swallowed hard and pressed his fingers into the bare, yielding cheeks of Sully’s ass to press it against his mouth.
Sully gasped, as if surprised, but Dean wasn’t.
He’d wanted this since they’d met. Wanted this, or something like this, since the first time he’d gotten a boner in the high school showers, pining for Jasper McClain, a high school senior who insisted on drying himself down there for long, slow, aching minutes while Dean drooled from beneath his shower head mere feet away.
Now, suddenly, here he was, face to face with his first dick.
He pressed with his hands. Sully responded and, in moments, his lips wrapped around the perfect, purple tip.
It throbbed in his mouth, a single drop of precum warm and tangy across his probing tongue.
He swallowed, eagerly, the suction dragging more of his lover’s shaft inside.
Though he knew Sully was shy about his size, or lack thereof, Dean was grateful for the five inches he could easily suck and savor without fear of gagging—or worse.
And that he did, feasting on the stiff, unyielding flesh between his lips.
He hollowed his cheeks with the effort, slurping and sucking as Sully responded favorably to the sound effects, adding a few of his own as he whimpered and purred in reply.
Dean’s fingers dug absently into the flesh of Sully’s sweaty backside, using the dimpled flanks to steer his lover’s stiff cock in and out of his sucking lips. The truck trembled and shook with the effort, Sully literally kneeling in front of Dean and, for lack of a better term, fucking his face.
Gently, at first, as if giving Dean time to relish and adjust to the presence of another man’s cock between his lips.
And then, as Dean’s suckling grew louder, his tongue bolder, swirling and savoring the throbbing shaft as it lingered inside.
But gently, persistently, Sully’s thrusts grew more forceful, Dean no longer guiding him with gentle insistence across his backside but, instead, leaving him to hang on for dear life.
Dean readied himself for the inevitable, head resting against the rear window of Sully’s truck as his lover thrust in and out of his clinging lips.
“Jesus,” Sully grunted, big hands gripping the roof of his truck as his shaft slid in and out, out and in, dripping, sticky, creamy, throbbing and moments from release. “Baby, I... I...”
Dean nodded with understanding, hands gently clasping Sully’s sweaty, narrow waist as he lifted his knees for better purchase on the comfy blanket beneath his bare, sweaty ass.
Sully announced his orgasm with a roaring “Fuck” and then did just that, pumping one last time deep into Dean’s practiced mouth until he came, thickly, spilling his hot seed across the back of his lover’s throat.
Dean drank it down, gulping gloriously as his eyelids fluttered and, amazingly, his stiff cock flopped against his sticky belly, making a hard, wet “thwack” sound with every gurgle and gulp.
Sully sighed, heavily, warm breath splashing across the top of Dean’s head as, gently, he slid his flaccid cock from between bruised, sticky lips.
“My, my,” he mused, long arm reaching down as his big hand clasped around Dean’s insatiable cock. “Something about sucking another man off get you hard again so soon, City Slicker?”
“Not just any man,” Dean grunted as Sully made him come once more, two, perhaps even three, silken strokes before he spat weak ropes of depleted jizz across his fluttering, puffy belly. “Only you,” Dean insisted through gasping lips as, sated once more, Sully sank down next to him.
“You mean that?” Sully asked, shoulder to shoulder as they settled themselves in the back of the truck, sitting side by side and peering out at the last fingers of sunset drifting low over the endless horizon.
“Obviously, Jesus,” Dean gasped. “Even I haven’t made myself come twice in the same hour.”
“You’re just saying that,” Sully insisted, using his apparently agile big toe to latch on to one wicker handle of the discarded picnic basket and drag it close enough to reach inside. “Because I’m your first.”
“I’m saying it because I want to say it,” Dean insisted, admiring the fresh bottle of bubbly Sully liberated from its special cooling sack.
“I may not look tough, Sully, but I want what I want and am willing to fight to get it. Whether it’s graduating early or wrangling financial aid out of the Admissions Department or, hell, getting to do my spring project on some long-forgotten ghost town.
Maybe ... maybe that’s why I waited so long to do anything with anybody. ”
“Was it worth it?” Sully croaked, making quick work of the cork this time and offering the fizzing, gurgling bottle to Dean first. He took it, greedily gulping down a long, refreshing swallow straight from the bottle before handing it back.
“The wait, I mean?” Sully added quietly.
“Hell, yes,” he gasped through wet, glossy lips.
Sully rolled his eyes and drank deeply from the bottle. Dean stared in quiet admiration, watching the way his lover’s Adam’s apple bobbed and weaved with each deep, rich swallow. “You have nothing to compare it to,” Sully insisted, foisting the bottle back upon him.
“Why are you arguing with me?” Dean teased, nudging Sully’s sweaty, naked hip with his own. “I’m out here professing my love for you and you keep fighting it.”
“Because you throw that word around too easily,” Sully insisted. “I’ve had colds that lasted longer than we’ve known each other.”
“Screw that,” Dean barked, turning gently to face him. “It’s my heart, I’ll give it to whoever I want.”
Sully started to speak, then grew silent, eyes moist but brooding. Dean wriggled to get more comfortable, realizing this might take a while, crossing his ankles and resting sticky hands on his knees as if they were telling ghost stories at summer camp.
“Look at all you did tonight, Sully,” Dean pointed out, nodding at the romantic gestures strewn all about the back of his truck.
“You act all tough, with your macho cowboy bullshit, but look at this spread. Pillows, blankets, little twinkling lights and champagne? You can’t do all this and tell me I’m the only one catching feelings right now, can you? ”
Sully merely shook his head. “No, I can’t.”
“So why fight it, baby?”
“Because I don’t trust it,” Sully admitted, turning to face him. “I’ve never felt anything this good before, this powerful. I don’t ... don’t know how to feel.”
“Just ... feel, that’s all,” Dean insisted. “What’s so hard about that?”
“It’s not the feeling I’m afraid of,” Sully said quietly.
“What then?”
“It’s what happens after I’ve let my guard down,” he insisted.
“Gotten used to having you around, stopped feeling so lonely and bored and ... and stuck all the damn time and then you up and leave. Go back to school and forget all about the big, bad cowboy who popped your sweet little college boy cherry.”
Dean frowned. “Go back to school ... three hours away?” he teased, nudging Sully’s big, sticky knee with his own. “And you’re like, a land baron gazillionaire entrepreneur whizz guy so, just rent a helicopter or something every weekend and come rail me silly. That’s what you’re worried about?”
Sully managed to smirk. “Yeah. I guess?”
Dean grinned. That smirk, his little, tiny smirk of acknowledgement for how petty and small his argument had grown, was all the hope he needed.
For now. “Look, cowboy,” Dean sighed, handing over the bottle and sinking down into the pile of pillows beneath him.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves here.”
“You think?” Sully snorted, polishing off the bottle and joining Dean in the pillow cluster beneath them. They canoodled, not quite in each other’s arms but damn close enough.
“We’ve got all week,” Dean assured him. “Hell, you’ll probably get sick of me by the time you run me out of Pistol Creek.”
“Fat chance,” Sully harrumphed, lids growing heavy as the sleepless night and, uh, extracurricular activities caught up to him. To both of them.
“I hope so, but until then? I’ll lay off the lovey-dovey stuff and we can go back to you, caveman and me, nerd, okay?”
Sully gave him a dreamy little smile before shutting his heavy lids, apparently for good. He laced his arms behind his head, sweaty armpits resplendent with damp, sticky, glistening brown fuzz.
“Sure thing, nerd,” he teased before promptly passing right the fuck out.