Page 7 of Cowboy Dreams

I froze, letting the weight of him lie along my tongue. He hadn’t seen my backside yet, but the words made my ass clench something fierce. I let him glide out of my mouth. “Been known to happen a time or two.”

“What if I told you to get on the bed?”

“I’d say if you don’t have condoms and lube, there’s some in the pocket of my jacket.”

He pulled me to my feet and kissed me, the sweet salt of his precum on our tongues. “Lie down, then.”

He turned away to rummage in my discarded pockets, and I took advantage to stretch out on the bed, ass up.

“Found them—” His voice cut off short. “Joe.”

I figured he was staring at my ass, and the nice fat plug sticking out of it. I’d had hopes, although I almost didn’t wear it tonight, dumb as I felt the other three times, taking it out in the bunkhouse john by myself. “Yes, Sylvester?”

“That’s the most erotic thing I’ve seen in years.”

“Does that mean you want to fuck me?”

“Indubitably.”

“Plastic bag for the plug in the same pocket.” I reached behind myself, but he smacked my hand away.

“Mine. Hands off.”

“Pretty sure that’s my ass,” I said.

“Pretty sure you’re wrong.” He slid his fingers down my crack, from the hollow of my spine to the fat base of the plug, and tapped on the silicone. When I shivered, he laughed and did it again. Then he began alternating pulling and twisting the plug with rubbing over my taint and down to where my balls hung tight and aching. The sensations zinged me, inside and out, and I lost words, nearly lost breath.

He played with the toy for a while, sounding pleased whenever he got a gasp or moan or shudder out of me. After a few minutes, I said, “The next step is pulling that plug out and pushing your dick in.”

“I know how to do this.”

“Yeah? I wasn’t sure. You gonna tease me all night?”

I expected more joking but he said, “No,” and eased the plug out, setting it aside. As I fidgeted, feeling cool and empty, I heard the condom wrapper tear, and what I hoped was a pillow pack. I bought ’em online, along with the condoms, because my days of being young and stupid enough to take it dry were long gone. A cowboy who can’t sit his horse next day without getting tears in his eyes is in a mess of stupid.

Then Sylvester said, “Roll over.”

“On my back?”

“And legs in the air.”

I’d never done it that way but I’d seen porn. I rolled over and grabbed my knees, hauling my legs up and out. My ass was on full display, probably loose and open from the plug. I don’t know why that felt raunchier than bending over, but it did.

Sylvester was a sight looming over me, all smooth skin and big cock sheathed up, good and shiny with lube. I pulled my knees wider and he knelt between them, aiming for my ass. I breathed through that first breach as he pushed slowly and unstoppably into me. His eyes were intense. His gaze met mine in a way no one’s ever had. His pupils were wide, the ice-blue just a ring around deep black.

I sucked air through my nose, trying not to show how my ass was on fire because it’d been a while since I’d used more than my mouth on a man. But he saw something, because he slowed halfway in, moving in small circles with his hips, a fraction at a time.

“I can take it,” I said, though my teeth were clenched.

“I can see that.” He reached between us and stroked my dick, which’d softened. The touch made me gasp and went a ways to helping my ass reconcile with his big rod. He rubbed me again, firm but not hard, his fingers still slick with the lube and Joe Junior got back into the program right quick. “You’ll take exactly what I give you.” He picked up the pace in my ass a little but it was still all slow motions, push and pull, drag and give.

I didn’t have breath to complain, or the brain cells to put words together. I’d never been fucked like this. Don’t know if it was the position, or the slow and easy pace, or just him, the sight and smell and sounds of him, but my whole body was lit up like I’d grabbed the electric fence. Except I didn’t want to let go.

He sank deep, and deeper, until he was bottoming out in me. And still he worked my ass slow and firm and long, like his dick was trying to find my heart, or maybe my soul. Wasn’t sure I had either one, this time in my life, but what I did have was sitting up and begging for him. My cock was so hard under his gliding fist I thought it might split and my balls wanted to erupt. What he was doing felt so good and yet hurt in odd ways that weren’t physical at all.

And he kept doing it. Kept fucking me perfect and jacking me like he had all night. His hair was disarranged now, falling into those ice-blue eyes, and a little sweat made that perfect chest gleam in the low light. I gave up on everything, control, thought, breathing even, letting each slow thrust drive a hoarse grunt from my throat.

I expected him to speed up, to start pounding me fast like a man might to get off. But between one long tip-to-hilt drive and the next, lightning hit me. I came in pulses of relief so sharp my vision grayed out. Through a rush of blood in my ears, I heard myself crying out. Not his name—I managed not to be that sappy—but “Please” and “Yes” and a whole lot of taking the Lord’s name in vain.

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