Chapter 10: “Dear Bradley”
1721 Words
Chapter 10: “Dear Bradley”
Apartment 3-G, On My Bed…and Elsewhere
12:22 A.M.
Before he came, the cowboy yanked his tool out of me and I heard him strip off the condom. He flipped me onto my back and shoved himself between my legs, touching his rod and balls to mine. Within seconds he’d taken his d**k in both hands and was jacking himself. It sounded loud and wet. A greedy grin stretched his face from ear to ear as he said, “I’m going to cover you with my jack-juice, bud.”
I wanted to wear his load all over me. Even if he shot his seed into my mouth or eyes, I’d have been fine with it. His hips hitched back and forth as he jacked himself, his whole body shuddering. He was focused, not sparing a glance for my rod. Sweat ran down his chest, darkening and matting his hair. His balls bounced chaotically against me. He was working himself hard, working for his reward.
I spread my legs farther so he could get as close to me as he wanted. His balls banged into mine as he worked himself. A bubble of pre-come squirted from his c**k onto my shaft. Cord was panting and grunting like a wild animal. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were wide, his face bright red with exertion.
I watched him for a minute, five, ten. s****l minutes ticked by with such ease. I knew my eyes and mouth were heavy and languid with s*x, and my skin was sweaty and raw from being pounded into the bed. His hips jerked steadily and he handled his c**k with unstoppable heat while he watched me. I put on a show for him, licking my lips, wiping the sweat from my abs and sucking my fingers, tweaking my own nips. He was out of breath, panting for oxygen when he finally and said, “You’re so hot…extremely hot…I’m going to burst.”
“Jack it out man,” I said, watching his every move. “Pump it onto my dick.”
The cowboy listened. He grunted like a bull, practically crushed his rod, and his thick load of spunk erupted against my solid crank, filled my navel, and shot onto my hairless, suntanned pecs.
I said, “Nice mess you made on me.”
“You look sexy wearing my gunk,” he panted, trying to catch his breath.
His sap was warm and gluey against my skin. He was right. I knew I looked sexy sporting his creamy goods. I was a porn star on my own bed. It made me smile. Like every adult entertainer, whether their role was cowboy or Indian, I said to Mr. Stockton County, “It’s time for you to get me off.”
Cord winked at me as a wild smile spread across his face. He said, “I’m glad we’re thinking the same thing.”
* * * *
12:52 A.M.
“Stroking you off, man,” Cord murmured, holding himself over me. The cowboy’s palm and fingers were snug around my c**k as they pumped. “I’m going to make you shoot, Bradley.”
“Go for it,” I said, pumping his fist with my own weight, lifting my hips off the bed and against his hand. My topaz-blue eyes locked onto his black ones. We fell under each other’s s****l spell, my city c**k in his country-boy hand. And I pounded him in all my glory. One thrust led to a dozen or more as I slowly built my orgasm, which was going to explode in due time.
His hand job was everything I thought it would be: it turned me on with its high energy and our lust; his hand was exceptionally talented—he’d soon accomplish great and sticky things.
“You like it when I play with you?”
“Yeah,” I replied, quivering with delight under his smooth touch.
“You like it enough to blow?”
“Course,” I said, already feeling elation bubble up inside me, foretelling a spew-fest from my eight-inch spike.
“Blow it, then, Bradley. I want to watch you come. Spray yourself down,” he said, entranced.
Yes, I was on fire. My body jerked on the bed, once, twice. I knew my face and chest were red. I jerked again and felt my temperature rise even higher. I reached the plateau of semi-consciousness and near-confusion. I bucked into his hand and groaned. I was going to fire off my load and spray a vat of goop everywhere.
“Bring it, Bradley,” Cord said, my most intimate cheerleader.
And so it was brought. I heaved my hips up one last time, let out a solid moan of deep gratification, and felt exultation race through my core. White arcs blew out of my wand and onto my chest. Sticky white sap glazed my puckered navel, my popping abs, and steel-hard n*****s. The glue was thick on my torso and smelled like a bittersweet man-treat.
* * * *
1:03 A.M.
Spent, our chests rose and fell after our man-play. My torso was covered in our thick white splat. The smell was stringent and biting. Exhaustion found me as I lay against the cowboy, but I was still bone-hard between my sticky thighs.
“You’re a mess,” Cord said, leaning on his elbow and huffing next me.
“The product of some heavy-duty lust between dudes.”
“You’re wearing my cowboy cream, just like you wanted to.”
“You should eat some of it up.”
He chortled, “I’m queer and like c**k, but I don’t eat guy-goop.”
“You ever try it?” I asked, intrigued.
“I did. Wasn’t a fan then, not a fan now.”
“If you change your mind...I’m sure I can produce some for you.”
He laughed at me and said, “You’re dirty.”
“The only way I know how to be.”
“And I like you.”
“A little or a lot?”
“A lot, Bradley.”
“Then stay a while. Enjoy the city. Enjoy me. What do you say?” I was being serious. It would be nice having Cord at my side, no matter how long he decided to stay. Together we could play boyfriends and have a great time. I could take a week off with pay from K&D Design just to be with him. I could teach him how to fish, snorkel, and collect seashells. We could watch a few movies together. Plus, we could visit the awesome museums in Tampa Bay and St. Petersburg. Had he ever seen the Everglades? I wanted to take him there. Would he enjoy taking a schooner into the Gulf for a day? Any city boy along the Coast would have wondered.
“I gotta get back to Stockton County,” he admitted, which deflated me. “My ranch hands are waiting for me.”
“How many do you have?”
“A few.”
“Your world is a mystery to me.”
“We can change that.”
“Maybe someday. Not anytime soon, though. I have my own responsibilities here in Naples.”
“That’s a pity. I’d like to see you ride a horse.”
I chuckled, enjoying his company, time, and body. Out of the blue I said, “You have me if you want me, Cord.”
“I’ll never have you. You’re far too wild for me, city boy.”
“We’ll see about that, guy. I’ll change your mind.”
“Do it,” he said, and rolled on top of me, smacked his lips against mine, and ran his fingers through the sticky man-mess on my skin.
* * * *
1:17 A.M.
We showered like men at a private gym, sliding and bumping our chests together. Soapy palms caressed each other’s inner thighs, mounded shoulders, and strong backs. We rinsed our semi-stiff c***s under the warm spray, tugged on them, and rinsed a second time just for fun.
We kissed under the shower’s hot spray, all teeth and tongues. We wrapped our arms around each other’s naked and spent torsos. When we broke apart he whispered, “You’re easy to fall for.”
“I’m really not.”
“You really are.”
“You’re mistaking me for a different city boy.”
He slipped his rough palm and fingers around my d**k, gave it a squeeze and said, “Don’t make me seduce you again, guy.”
“I dare you.” I shook my head at him and kissed his cheek. I felt him squeeze my c**k a second time and said, “No, let me correct that. I double dare you.”
Cord chuckled at me and kissed my mouth. And before I knew it he was on his knees, sucking the eight inches of my firm c**k.
* * * *
3:33 A.M.
Held in his right arm, naked against his cowboy body, I dreamed of being in a field with Cord Darringer. Both of us were somewhere in Oklahoma, dressed in cowboy gear, standing in waist-high wheat. Beyond the wheat were tall, prairie-dirt-colored skyscrapers. A strong wind blew through our hair and swirling blue-black clouds drifted over our heads. The day was an eerie gray and felt tumultuous. The temperature shifted from warm to cold and back in the middle of the afternoon. The sun was hiding behind the thick clouds.
Then we were naked under the windswept sky. Cord was hard and man-syrup was dripping off the tip of his c**k. “A tornado’s coming,” he said.
I wanted him to come instead of the storm, and told him so.
“It’s going to be a doozey, Bradley, but I don’t want you to be afraid.”
“You have my back?” I asked, admiring his furred chest, thick thighs, and the erect knob between his legs.
“And your front, which is probably my favorite part of you.”
In the distance lightning flashed over the skyscrapers. Thunder rolled along the bruised heavens, adding a melancholy tone to the afternoon.
“It looks like a bad storm,” I said, watching the sky light up yellow-gold-white.
He drew me close to him and our n*****s touched. Our d***s aligned, masculine totem poles between our chiseled bodies. Cord brushed a palm through my hair, planted a tender kiss on my cheek, and whispered, “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me. No harm will come to you. No matter how dangerous it seems.”
* * * *
7:12 A.M.
I woke to an empty spot next to me on the queen-size bed. I walked groggily around, looking for Cord. The place was empty. Half of me believed he’d left my happy abode in search of morning provisions, which I hoped were greasy sausage sandwiches and tall plastic glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice.
I deflated when I went into the kitchen and saw a piece of paper on the two-person table next to the window. There, along with the penguin salt-and-pepper shakers, was a “Dear Bradley” letter. Feeling my heart plummet down to my deflated c**k, I picked up the note and read:
City Boy—
Had to leave. Plane to catch. Heading back to Stockton County. Had the time of my life with you, guy. Hope you had fun, too. Best s*x ever. Best guy I ever met. Won’t forget you anytime soon. You branded me with your lust. Come and find me. I’ll be waiting for you.
He’d signed C. Darringer with long, wide strokes. I lifted the paper to my nose and breathed it in. Of course I smelled his scent—cowboy heat mixed with light perspiration. It made me smile and a warm feeling settled inside me. No, I wasn’t angry about his “Dear Bradley” letter. Or afraid. I was thrilled that he wanted to see me again. And as I smiled, enjoying the warmth inside me and between my legs, I knew that our adventure together hadn’t come to an end. Rather, it was just beginning.
- Writer
