Shooter’s eyes go wide, jaw dropping, as he claps his hands. “Fuck yes, baby!”
Trying, but failing, to stay in character, I laugh a little before composing myself as I cross the room, coming to a stop in front of him. Grabbing the hat off the top of my head, I place it atop his, and say in my deepest, sexiest voice, “Hey there, cowboy. Heard you need a ride.”
He bites down on his lip, raking his baby blue eyes down my body, before he murmurs, “You fucking bet I do, dirty boy. Show me what you got.”
Oh, I plan to.
Planting my hands on his thighs, I spread his legs open before sinking down between them. Fingers working his belt buckle open, I’m pleased to see the start of an erection already popping up. Once I get the belt undone, and his jeans open, I pull him out, my mouth watering at the sight. I run the flat of my tongue along the crown of his dick, gathering the pre-cum waiting for me.
Shooter grits his teeth, breathing hard through his nose as he watches me. His pupils are blown, the blue nearly looking black from how turned on he is. I love him like this—aroused for me and unable to hide it. Not that he’d ever want to hide it. He’s always been shamelessly open about his wants and needs. Sometime between the end of season and right at this moment, I’ve come to the realization that I’ve fallen in love with Shooter Graham. At some point, unbeknownst to me, the cocky, sure of himself, take-no-shit, bronc-riding cowboy has stolen my heart, and in turn given me something so completely special, I can’t even fathom walking away from it.
Of course, right now, as I’m licking his tip like a lollipop, getting ready to mount him like a horse with my pre-prepped ass, isnotthe proper time to tell him this realization of feelings… but soon. Soon I will tell him, and hope like hell he feels the same.
Once Shooter is nice and hard and throbbing for me, I reach under the bed where I stashed the bottle of lube and the condoms earlier, pulling the latter out and sliding it down his length before grabbing the former and dousing him with it. The heat of a thousand suns burns in his gaze as I stand up and straddle his lap, reaching behind myself to line him up to my entrance. Realization dawns on him seconds before I sink down, and he stops me.
“What are you doing? We need to prep you.”
With a smirk, I bring his finger around the back, letting him feel for himself, leaning in to press my lips down on the overheated flesh of his neck before whispering right next to his ear, “I already did that.”
Dragging his earlobe between my teeth, I relish the shiver that racks through him. I love knowing I pull such a visceral reaction out of him, and wonder if it’ll always be like this with us. I sure as hell hope so. A chest-deep groan falls from Shooter’s mouth as he places both hands firmly on my hips while I resume my task at hand.
Body thrumming with a desperate type of need, I don’t waste a single moment, sinking down on his length the second I get us lined up. His impressive girth stretches me, filling me to an almost unbearable fullness. My head drops back onto my shoulders as I sit all the way down on his lap, taking all there is to take from him.
Shooter leans in, sinking his teeth into the meaty part where my neck meets my shoulder, and it sends a zap of electricity down into my balls. “Goddamn, baby, you feel so fucking good wrapping around me,” he growls against my throat.
My hips begin to rock against him, my chest brushing up against his. Something about the way he’s still fully dressed while I’m nearly naked really fucking does it for me. Makes it seem filthier, what we’re doing. The song’s changed to another boot-knockin’ country song that I’m not paying any attention to anymore. His hands move from my hips, around to my ass, grabbing fistfuls of my cheeks as he uses it as leverage to rock me faster. His dick slides in and out of me with ease, brushing against my prostate with every stroke.
A groan, long, deep, and low sounds from me as pleasure radiates into every crevice of my body. “Oh, my God, Shooter…”
His hand slaps down on my ass. “Get up, let me fuck you bent over this bed.”
I stand up, begrudgingly pulling his dick out of me, and feeling way too empty as I do it. As soon as he spins us and bends me over the edge of the bed, he thrusts back inside. Crying out, my hands fist the bedding, letting my head hang down as he drills into me, giving me no time to adjust. Not that I’d want him to.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, dirty boy,” he grunts out between each punishing thrust. “The way you squeeze the life out of my cock every time I plunge inside of you.”Thrust. Thrust.“The way you stretch to take all of me like such a good.”Thrust.“Fucking.”Thrust.“Boy.”Thrust.
Nonsensical words fly out of my mouth. I don’t even know if it’s English at this point. I glance over my shoulder at him, taking in his dark eyes, hooded lids, flushed cheeks, and the way his teeth are bared as he plunders into me like I may disappear if he slows down. Shooter wraps his hand around the jockstrap, using it as leverage to pull me back into him until I’m meeting him thrust for thrust. The loud, vulgar slapping of his pelvis hitting my ass echoes in the room over the music, the scent of sex heavy in the air, getting me high on him. My chest heaves, lungs expanding rapidly, trying to suck in oxygen.
Cock throbbing and dripping behind the cotton, I’m going out of my mind, needing to touch myself but also knowing if I even try, I’ll fall forward from how hard he’s screwing into me. Like he can read my mind, Shooter wraps an arm around the front of my throat, pulling my body back into his until we’re flush. With his free hand, he dips underneath the strap, wrapping a sure, hot fist around my aching length.
“Ah, fuck!” I cry out, the double stimulation setting off an inferno in my blood.
“That’s right, dirty boy. Let me hear you swear. Let me hear it all. Let me hear how much I fucking turn you on. How much this cock turns you out. Tell me how much you’re dying to come.”
“I am, I am… I’m so close to coming. D-don’t stop, Shooter. Please, don’t stop.”
“Well, when you ask so fucking nicely, how could I deny you.” His lips are right beside my ear, his voice sinister as it washes over me. It’s so hot.
The pleasure soaring through me is so strong and so good, I can hardly see straight as my balls tighten up into my body and I spill into the jock and all over his hand.”
“Such a dirty fucking boy,” he coos. “So good, so tight. So perfect.” I swear, him talking me through my orgasm makes me come even harder. If it weren’t for his arm around my throat, I know I’d fall over. My body’s Jell-O.
Shooter removes his hand from under the jock strap, bringing his cum-soaked fingers up to my face, and shoves them into my mouth as he doubles down on his efforts in my ass. “Look at you, tasting yourself off my fingers. Starving for more, aren’t you? Ready for me to come in this tight, sweet ass of yours, huh?”
I nod as best as I can, but there’s not a lot of range of motion available with his fingers lodged in my mouth and his arm around my throat. It takes no time at all for his movements to get jerky, and eventually, he stills inside of me, his dick pulsing in my ass, and I know he’s filling the condom, and every part of me wishes he was inside me bare, covering my insides in his cum.
We’re both out of breath and slick with sweat by the time he pulls out of me. I watch him rip the condom off and tie the end, before tossing it in the wastebasket in the bathroom. After rinsing his fingers off, he comes back into the room and pulls me into him, kissing me hard enough to steal my breath all over again.
“Holy shit, that was incredible,” he breathes into my mouth. “I need a cigarette after that. Come on.”
