CHAPTER FOURTEEN Van
After stepping from the shower, there were clothes beneath the towel I’d found. My host had been in the bathroom, but I hadn’t seen him. A sexual urge ran through me at the thought that he may have seen me naked in the shower.
I’d purposefully left the door ajar, knowing he might bring clothes in.
Secretly, I fantasized about him finding me naked and possibly liking what he saw, but that hadn’t happened.
An alarm bell rang that I’d probably turned him off with silly talk about messages from the universe and me thinking he could be the man I sought.
Dressing in the sweatpants and T-shirt he’d provided, I stepped into the living area, toweling my hair. “Thanks for the clothes,” I said, noticing him sitting on the floor by the fireplace.
His eyes were locked on my crotch, my cock slightly engorged from fantasizing in the bathroom while dressing. I glanced down and noted that my dickhead was clearly outlined through the sweats. I was that guy. I was the dude whose dick was on full display in the often spoken about gray sweatpants.
I absentmindedly adjusted myself. “They fit,” he commented, still locked in on my cock. “Snugly,” he added, smirking.
“Commando,” I replied. “I guess it would be weird to ask to borrow underwear.”
“Not unless we make it that way,” he answered. “You want a pair? I only wear boxers, though.”
Of course, he only wore boxers. One more thing I found hot about straight men: boxers and jockstraps. I thought hetero guys had a strange obsession with both. But Chip was not a straight man, according to him. He only looked, acted, and carried himself like one.
To make matters worse, he’d also changed. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he was in a pair of those hot boxers and wore a tank. While he continued to gaze at my cock, my eyes explored the opening of his boxers, praying for a glimpse.
“These sweats are too hot,” I complained. “I hate to sound ungrateful, but the fire is quite warm. Any chance you have shorts I could borrow?”
Chip stood, and my eyes locked onto his sexy legs and the way his cock flopped around in the boxers. The tank top had ridden up on his stomach, and my libido jumped to a factor of one thousand when I noted a four-, five-, six-, or maybe even a ten-pack. A happy trail disappeared into his boxers.
I didn’t hike, but if I did, his happy trail would be my workout choice.
Swallowing a moan of desire, I diverted my eyes until he turned and headed to his bedroom.
His plaid boxers were old and faded, but hugged his ass tightly.
I’d expected baggy and unsexy, but that was not the case.
Perhaps he should’ve worn a size large, and these were medium.
Just the act of walking caused manhood to ooze from him. Every movement of his legs, the way his shoulders were held back, along with an effortless strut, drove me insane. Chip was just a dude. A man’s man. He was that rare breed of men who had zero idea how much sexual energy they put out.
He returned, another pair of worn boxers dangling from a thumb. “They’re fresh from the dryer,” he stated, holding them to his nose and inhaling. My dick instantly responded to the sight. “If you’re okay with wearing someone else’s underwear,” he added.
We locked eyes. I felt like he was daring me to lose any perceived uppity-ness he might have thought I possessed. The idea of his underwear covering my private areas turned me on like nothing I remembered feeling.
“I’m totally good with it,” I replied, pushing the sweats I wore down to my ankles and stepping out of them.
I made no attempt to hide my burgeoning dick. I just let it jut straight out, aimed directly at him like an offer to a snake wrangler. He grinned and watched, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth.
I reached out and waited for him to hand me the boxers.
He took a step closer, placing them in my hand but not releasing them.
I studied him carefully, taking special interest in the ever-expanding pair of boxers he wore.
Hanes was written in tiny writing at the bottom edge of his underwear.
Of course, they were the All-American Hanes brand. Another sexy notch for his manly image.
“Do you always get undressed in front of strangers?” he asked.
“I figured you already took a look in the bathroom,” I snarked.
“You knew, huh?”
“The clothes didn’t get there on their own, mister.”
“That didn’t count. Your back was to me,” he countered. He tilted his head toward my cock. “Your ass is pretty incredible, by the way, but dare I say that is even better.”
He remained focused on my erection. I was at full mast and made no effort to disguise my desire for him.
The bravado I exhibited was unlike my usual approach.
I preferred my sexual partner to take the lead.
I was a proud bottom and appreciated a masculine man to direct the encounter. This in-your-face approach was not me.
“I’m at a disadvantage,” I stated, dropping my eyes to his hidden erection. “You’re wearing underwear and I’m not.”
“And so you’re correct, stranger,” he softly said, sexual energy quietly rumbling from his throat. “I don’t have to if you’d prefer.”
We were facing a critical junction in this situation.
Should we extinguish the attraction we so obviously shared?
Did I want a one-night stand with a rugged hunk who displayed a natural, raw masculinity I didn’t think existed in a gay man?
What if we were embarrassed after rutting around with a stranger?
What if the sex was awful? Where would I go?
“I wouldn’t mind a look,” I whispered, my mind warning me to go slow. “You know, if you want to.”
“I want to,” he murmured. “Very much.”
Chip reached through the front slit of the boxers and fished his cock out. Only the shaft and head protruded from the underwear. And protrude is exactly what the sizable piece of flesh did. He was thick and girthy, and hard as a rock. Big veins ran along his dick, and precum seeped from the head.
After a lengthy examination, I moved my eyes back to his. “I’ve never had a one-night stand,” I confessed. “You know, met a stranger and then had sex right away. I’ve never done that.”
“Either have I,” he stated. “I’ve had exactly one sexual partner in my entire life.”
“I can’t claim that,” I replied, relocating my approving gaze to his still-throbbing dick. “But I’ve never had sex after just meeting a guy. And only three people total. Before my ex, I mean. So a total of four,” I babbled. “Is that too many?”
“Do you want to have sex?” he asked. “I’d need to take a quick shower. Or… you could join me in a shower.”
Every fiber of my being wanted to have sex with him. But the inner voice I trusted to guide me warned of the risks. What if he actually was the man I was searching for, and I blew it by acting loose? Would he respect me less?
True, the search so far was incredibly brief, considering I’d only been on my cowboy husband journey for two days, but was this the impression I wanted to give in the beginning to such a fine candidate?
“Maybe not,” I whispered. “I guess maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
I figured he might dislike my reply. Maybe he’d think me a cocktease and would be angered by displaying his cock so easily. But he was none of those things.
“You’re probably right,” he said. “I mean, I want to. You’re an incredibly hot guy, Van.”
“And you’re very handsome, Chip. And soooo my type if I had a type,” I revealed. “I’m not sure I have a type, actually, but when I imagine a hot guy, you fit the description perfectly.”
He put his dick away and handed me the underwear. “Why don’t you put these on before I can’t control myself?” he advised. “I apologize for being so forward. And for looking at you in the bathroom.”
“Does this mean we might never have a go?” I inquired.
“Only time will tell.”
I stepped into the boxers, my still-hard cock fighting for freedom. No matter how I focused on anything but him, my erection wouldn’t go away. I tried pushing my dick to the side so the tip wouldn’t escape the waistband.
“Doesn’t seem to want to go away,” I uttered, feeling the flame of desire on my face. “Damn!” I exclaimed, closing my eyes and trying to escape the sexual being in front of me.
“I could leave the room,” he laughed, sticking his thumb in his waistband after I opened my eyes. An obvious gesture to keep my interest squarely on him.
“Or you could stop being so damn sexy,” I replied, glancing at his thumb, willing it to push down further on the boxer’s elastic, and wishing I could see his cock again.
Chip grinned, probably enjoying the effect he was having on me. “What makes you hesitant to go with what your dick seems to want?”
“What you’ll think of me after,” I quickly answered. “Not sure why, but I don’t want you to see me as a one-night stand.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed.
“So you agree with me?” I asked, noticing I was still fully hard. I pushed on my cock again. “What would you think if we gave in?”
“I wouldn’t judge you,” he began. “But then again, I’m super horny.
” I studied him as he adjusted his stance, also repositioning his erection.
“Picture this,” he continued. “A hot stranger shows up during a snowstorm. I convince him to stay overnight at my place. And then I invite him to shower, causing me to sneak into the bathroom and try to get a glimpse of him. I discover a fantastic-looking ass. Keep in mind, I am a total ass guy. Wouldn’t a normal, red-blooded man want some action after that porn-worthy story setup? ”
I licked my lips and swiped at my forehead. I was perspiring. I watched him use his thumb to lower the waistband even further, revealing his blond pubes. “When you put it that way, it is kinda of filthy,” I softly replied, gawking at his thumb.
“Would you feel better about your reputation if you just used me and got off?” he asked, taking a step closer. “You know, maybe sat back and let me drain your balls.”