Love Among the Llamas (MM)
[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Romance, M/M, HEA]
Adam Witherspoon, who is new in town, has just started a llama-and-ostrich ranch. He discovers that Bart Donohue, the hot man he recently met and fell for, is the town council member who's trying to pass legislation barring residents from keeping exotic animals. Despite this, they form an uneasy romantic alliance, getting together in clandestine but hot liaisons.
Someone has it in for Adam, however, and lets his llamas and ostriches loose. Can he round them up before they're killed? Can Adam catch his shadowy foe? Is it his new lover, Bart? Can Adam prevail in a council meeting when he speaks up against the proposed legislation against exotics? Will Bart come out of the closet and declare his love for Adam? And can love win out against all these obstacles?
A Siren Erotic Romance
The shadows were long now. It was getting on toward dinnertime. Adam had left a large pot of Brunswick stew simmering on the stove. A chicken stew, featuring corn and green peppers and sweetened with a touch of brown sugar and sherry, the recipe was one of his favorites. He prepared a big pot every few weeks, freezing the leftovers in single servings so he could have a bowl of it every week without cooking it afresh every time. He figured he’d have dinner and then head into Ocala for a while.
The only bad thing about Wintersun, his new home, was that it was a “dry” town—no alcoholic beverages could be sold within the town limits. But it wasn’t that far to Ocala. Adam had already been to a bar there once. Tonight he would go again. It wasn’t a gay bar. Adam wasn’t particularly on the prowl to meet a stud. He was just after a few drinks and some relaxation. A decent mainstream bar, like the one he’d gone to the other night, would do.
Sometimes, though, in life, when someone is least looking for something, that’s when he or she finds it. An hour and a half later, Adam stepped inside the cool, dark confines of the bar and looked around for an empty seat. There were three of them at the bar itself. One was next to a slovenly looking, overweight woman with badly bleached hair. One was next to a kid who didn’t even look old enough to drink, though Adam was sure the bartender had carded him, and he’d passed muster. The kid wore his hair in a punk haircut and had cheek piercings. Adam couldn’t imagine getting into any kind of conversation with him.
The third empty seat, though, was next to a fellow attired similarly to Adam’s western garb. He had light brown hair, freckles, and a well-defined yet lean body. He looked as if his muscles might have been developed through hard labor, rather than in a gym.
It was a no-brainer as to which of the three empty seats to take.
Adam swung one leg over the empty barstool and planted his butt firmly on the seat. The fellow in the next seat swung around to face him and said, “Howdy.”
“Hidy yourownself,” Adam responded collegially. “Hidy” was not part of his Delaware vocabulary, but Adam very much wanted to fit into his new surroundings, and he’d heard various of the Wintersun townsfolk address him and each other thus.
“Bart,” said the fellow, by way of introduction, thrusting a callused hand in Adam’s direction.
“Adam.” He grasped the proffered hand and shook it heartily.
“New in town?”
“New Englander?” Bart hazarded a guess.
“Delaware. You got the up-north part right.” Adam grinned at Bart.
“Knew you weren’t a New Yorker. Or a Southerner.” Then in a total non sequitur, he added, “Nice duds.” Bart nodded his head once emphatically in approval of Adam’s outfit.
“Ever been to this bar before?”
“Stick to the name brands. The house stuff is rotgut.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Bart smiled warmly at Adam, and Adam’s gaydar went on high alert. His dick started twitching in his pants. No, he wouldn’t mind an erotic tussle with this brown-haired, smiling fellow. Not at all.
“So, what do you like to do for pleasure?” Bart asked.
“Depends who I’m doing it with,” Adam answered guardedly.
A sly smile crossed Bart’s lips. “Well put,” he said, seeming to recognize the implications in Adam’s answer.
Just then the bartender showed up. “What can I get you?” he asked.
“Johnnie black on the rocks.”
“Ready for a refill?” he asked Bart.
“Just about. Go ahead and hit me.”
“What are you drinking?” Adam inquired.
“Dickel. Tennessee sour mash. Good sippin’ whiskey.”
“Only way to drink it.” After a pause, he said, “I like that. You said ‘neat.’ I say ‘neat.’ Most people say ‘straight.’”
“Good to know we have things in common.”
Bart, sitting to Adam’s right, let his left leg move over a smidgen, until his knee was touching Adam’s knee. When Adam didn’t pull away, Bart smiled meaningfully. Adam let his eyes become half-lidded and smiled back.
They continued the conversation with their knees together, neither of them mentioning it, but Adam acutely aware of the contact and sure that Bart was, too. Their topics were impersonal—sports, politics, and that good old standby, the weather. “It’s like heaven, coming here from Delaware,” Adam observed.
“It can still get cold here in the winter, but not like up north,” Bart informed him. “Now, South Florida—Miami, the Keys, Lauderdale—is noticeably warmer than here. But we do okay. I don’t mind a few cold days and nights.”
“From where I sit, it’s positively balmy here.”
“It’s early spring. The winter’s colder. When did you get down?”
“Just a week ago. Although I was down briefly earlier, when I bought my new place.”
“You missed the coldest weather, then.”
“I like it hot,” said Adam, who wasn’t talking about the weather.
Adam grasped Bart’s half-hard dick in his hand and began to eagerly stroke up and down the shaft. His jack hand’s speed increased, and with it, the pressure with which he held him, until he was jacking Bart pretty demandingly. Bart looked across at him and smiled. Adam put his other hand on Bart’s balls. They were big balls, bull balls, and Adam wrapped his hand around as much of them as he could enclose and gently squeezed them, hefting Bart’s sac as he squeezed.
Those balls were big, sweaty, and forested with a light sprinkling of brown hairs. They called to Adam to do more than just squeeze them, so he did the natural thing. Ducking down to Bart’s crotch, Adam took Bart’s balls into his mouth, one at a time. That was all he could accommodate, but he switched back and forth between the two of them. Bart’s body tensed with need and began to sway in fuck-thrusts.
Bart put his hands on Adam’s head and held him, as if to prevent him from stopping what he was doing. Not that Adam had any thought of stopping! The only reason for doing that would have been to trade Bart’s nuts for his dick, but Adam had mixed feelings about unrubbered dick-sucking, and there was no rubber yet on Bart’s rampant hard-on.
As he continued sucking Bart’s nuts into his warm, loving mouth, he prodded the contents with his tongue and worked each ball around by sucking and by using his mouth. Now he felt the sexual tension positively flood through his new lover. He increased that tension by jacking Bart’s dick as he sucked on his sac. Then he stretched his arm out as far as he could reach toward the night table drawer.
The room was small, and Adam managed to open the drawer, feel around in it, and snag a condom packet without seriously disrupting the flow of the moment. Tearing open the foil packet, he dressed Bart’s dick for action. Then he gave it what he had dressed it for. Letting go of Bart’s balls with his mouth, Adam hefted Bart’s balls in his hand and transferred his lip-lock to the tip of Bart’s dick.
An “ahhhh!” of delight escaped Bart’s lips as he felt Adam’s muscular, practiced lips tighten around the flange of his dick and then begin to descend. Despite his eagerness, Adam took it slowly, so Bart could experience every inch of Adam’s descent, every facet of Bart’s dick’s enclosure in Adam’s mouth. Eventually, however, despite Adam’s excruciatingly slow speed, he reached bottom.
At that, Bart’s knees sagged. Huskily, he urged Adam, “Let me lie down or at least sit down.” He turned sideways and plopped heavily onto the bed, then arranged himself on the bed sideways, propped against the wall since there was no headboard. Adam knelt between his legs and latched on to his hard-on once again. Bart began humping his buns up and down on the bed, propped up against the wall, half lying, half sitting. Adam tugged him around so he was lying down and would be more comfortable, then resumed hefting his nuts.
Taking a deep breath, Adam once again descended that thick column of flesh, moving slowly but inexorably downward until at last he had the sword that was Bart’s cock buried totally in the scabbard that was his own throat. He held the pose for as long as he could, tightening and releasing his suction, until his lungs were ready to burst for want of oxygen. Then finally he began working his way back up Bart’s shaft once again.
Arriving at the top of Bart’s dick, Adam took a deep breath, swabbed his tongue around the mushroom-shaped dickhead, and did several quick suck-and-releases. He increased the suction radically, then exhaled, took another deep breath, and began the journey down again.
Bart’s pelvic thrusts were exuberant, exhilarated, and exorbitant. Caught up in a blissed-out joy, he incautiously drove his dick wildly far down Adam’s gullet. Twice, he inadvertently pulled right out of Adam’s mouth and aimed at the ceiling of the small room. He bounced so wildly that he broke Adam’s suction over and over.If this is how wild he gets just being sucked, what is he like when he’s fucked?
Finally pulling his mouth away intentionally, Adam gave Bart a chance to calm down. Bart’s body settled down again. Then Adam once again resumed sucking. As he did, he decided it was time to tease Bart’s asshole. Momentarily thrusting a finger into his mouth alongside Bart’s dick, Adam spit-wet the finger and then brought it down to Bart’s pucker. Although he tried to worm his finger within that tight muscle, at first it wouldn’t give an inch to let him in. Adam was sure Bart was no anal virgin—hadn’t he said he was versatile?—but his asshole was unyielding. Adam pushed and pressed, twisted and turned, insistently trying to gain entrance, but it seemed useless.
Just when he had decided that not even his finger, let alone his dick, was ever going to breach that tight muscle ring without major quantities of lube and some serious pressure, it relaxed, and he slipped inside. Bart’s anal sphincter gripped Adam’s finger tightly, but he was in, and he began to wiggle his finger around, tantalizing the nerve-rich tissues of Bart’s back door. Bart gave a little yelp of pleasure, and soon his butt was humping wildly again.
Now Adam attempted to insinuate a second finger within the clench of Bart’s anal sphincter, and after a minute’s persistence, he succeeded. Then a third finger joined the other two. No longer was he merely tickling Bart’s anal walls. Now he was driving the three fingers deeply in and out, finger-fucking Bart’s canal, and Bart was loving it.