Stockton County Cowboys Box Set

Chapter 19: A Cowboy’s Hunger

Chapter 19: A Cowboy’s Hunger

The Bunker

Arched Q Ranch

1:17 P.M.

To my surprise, I was granite hard in moments, ready for him to work on me. My swollen d**k was ready for his mouth to pleasure in any way he desired.

He was breathing hard already as he nosed my stiff c**k, breathing in my masculine scent to the fullest, and opened his mouth, running his lips and tongue up and down my eight inches. He seemed entranced, moving steadily along my wood and huffing through his nostrils like a bull. His work was nothing short of mind-blowing; he was skilled in man-on-man action.

I was breathing hard, too, feeling almost dizzy. My heart was pounding in my ears, at my temples, proving our passion. Entranced by his appetite for my queer flesh, all I could do was hold onto his smooth shoulders and whisper, “Don’t stop.”

He left off working my c**k to lick and nibble up my treasure trail and take a promiscuous lick at my comma-shaped navel. He teased me, toying eagerly with my abs. He moaned blissfully, steadying himself by grabbing my hips. His nose brushed my navel once, twice, three times, and another moan fell from his lips, sounding loud inside the bunker.

His tongue-to-stomach work left me helpless. Standing there, breathing intensely, I felt ablaze, sweat running down my shoulders and chest. A few drops trickled down to my navel and were soon licked away. How long could I stand there, being sexually treasured by Cord, without my legs going out from under me? In truth, we held each other so tightly that I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

Cord kept working on me, ravenous for my eight-inch d**k and swinging balls. Instead, he spun me around, gave my bottom a few slaps, and warned, “I hope you’re ready for me.”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied.

He brushed his face against my cheeks. Euphoria! He rubbed his lips over each tight orb, licking me a little, relishing his work. His strong tongue flicked my tight hole, then trailed teasingly away back over my glutes.

“Deeper,” I whispered, my voice thick, and he mumbled something, the vibrations tickling my oversensitive skin. “Slip it into me, Cord,” I begged him, wanting our s****l bond to last for hours.

Saliva dripped out of me and he lapped it up with his roving tongue. Again and again he darted his face to my hub and tried to f**k me with his mouth. I grunted randomly; nothing comprehensible, of course. His lapping and licking session was blue-ribbon action. The cowboy wasn’t new to this. In fact, he’d probably practiced these ass-adventures with a few queer buddies before me.

I took his tongue like a man, groaning as he pleasured my ass, my sounds echoing in the bunker.

Cord took his hand from my hip to grip the eight-inch post between my legs. He pulled my c**k down and began to jack me, and the motion made my balls swing against his chin. I groaned again, even louder.

A storm nearly as strong as the one outside own was building within me. My brain and nerves were sparking, almost on overload. I shuddered like a cornstalk blown by the driving wind. I was almost ready to splat my cream onto Cord’s hand but managed to warn him, “Cord, you have to stop. I won’t be able to hold back my explosion if you don’t.”

He pulled out of me, slurping, and asked, “How soon are you going to blow, beach boy?”

“Like yesterday.”

“Does that mean you want my cowboy d**k inside you?’

That was a country song to my ears, and I felt myself grin from earlobe to earlobe. I tried to stop shaking and said, “Bang away, Mr. Stockton County. I’m ready for whatever you have to pound me with.”