I relaxed. Oly was just a regular guy, after all. I tipped my beer bottle into my mouth, but it was empty, so I got up to get another. “She’d never leave. She was going to college yet she couldn’t tear herself away from that lifestyle—her friends, she said.”
I spoke from deep inside my fridge’s bowels. When I emerged, Oly was spreading the plastic Vibrations bag out flat so he could read it. Oh dear God. Well, everything inside was gender-neutral. Except the anal pleasure wand.
“Hm,” he said. “I never went inside this place. I don’t think it opened ’til about ten years ago.” He looked up at me and grinned. It suited him, cast a devilish yet impish look on his face, like he was up to no good. “Toys for your girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I was quick to say. I’d come out once that night, why not twice? It’d probably be revealed sooner or later if we were going to work closely together for the next week or so. I just blurted out the words like they were a quick band-aid. “I’m gay.”
His eyebrows shot up. Uh oh. Is this where he pushes back from the table with a look of horror and goes running for the door, don’t bother to show me out? But he didn’t remove his hands from the bag. “Oh yeah? I never would’ve guessed. That’s strange, because I can usually tell. I’ve got great gaydar.”
What the? Why was this macho firefighter so well-versed in the ins and outs of gayness? “Is one of your co-workers gay or something?”
He looked me levelly in the eye. “No. I am.”
And I thought I had great gaydar.
The revelation hit me like a grenade. I just sat there as though I was hanging on for dear life in the fallout from an A-bomb. Oly still had that sly grin, and I must’ve looked like an utter dork. This gorgeous hunk sitting eight feet from me was gay, I’d been craving him intensely all damned day, and now he was mine for the taking. Unless. “You were visiting Freddy for a—”
“For a hookup. Yes, your Freddy’s gay, apparently.”
That didn’t concern me. “I’m blown away. I mean, you’re so—”
“Macho? Yeah, let’s keep my fellows at the firehouse thinking that, too.” His face fell into a bitter soufflé now, just layers of resentful and harsh memories he must’ve hoarded. “I’m not out like you. Sometimes I wish I fucking was. I just know the guys at my house won’t welcome me with open arms, to say the least.”
So he wasn’t out, much less attached… The predatory wolf in me took over then, and I whipped my bag out of his fingers. “Chase Moran convinced me to buy this sucker. Looks like something out of Star Wars, but he says it blows the other guy out of the fucking water.”
“Oh yeah?” He wriggled on his seat like a little kid as I revealed the cherry red double wand.
Chase had even thrown in the batteries for free, so I turned it on. Oly watched with a rapt face as the thing churned, drilled, and vibrated, all at the same time.
“Wow. It’s amazing what technology has come to. I never use toys like that, because I just do the quick and dirty hookup thing.”
“Really?” I bragged. “I have plenty of guys over here. I’ve even got a St. Andrew’s cross in the next room. The whole setup.”
“Oh yeah? So guys can tie or cuff you to the cross and have their brutal way with you?”
What? “Uh, no. I’m the one doing the tying. I’m the one who’s the Dom. What did you think I was planning on doing with this anal wand? Shove it up my own ass?” The idea that Oly thought I was a sub was just appalling to me. Did I give off those bottom, Do-me King vibes? What exactly about a strapping cowboy was not masculine to the bone? I turned off the anal dildo with an angry flourish.
He spread his hands. “Well, I just assumed, yeah. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. Because, you know, if I wanted to do you, I would be the Dom.”
“Oh, just to use that as an example, right?” I stood. “Well, if there was any doing going on around here, I’d be doing you, because I’m the fucking Dom around here.”
He stood, too. He pointed at his own chest. “Well, I’ve been a fucking Dom since before I shot cum onto my bathroom mirror. My ass is virgin.”
I took a step forward. “My ass is so virgin a guy’s never even looked at it.” Which was, of course, a lie. How would that be possible?
Oly jutted his lower jaw forward. “Well, then. I guess we’re just going to have to beg to differ. You go your Dom and I’ll go my Dom and never the twain shall meet.”
But I wanted them to meet. Here we were, standing a few feet from each other, nose to nose. Was there no way two Doms could make it work somehow? I’d never tried. I just jammed my hands onto my hips and said, “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
We jutted our jaws at each other, a complete stalemate.
In the next flashing of an instant, we were all over each other.
Without knowing it, I’d popped to my feet. Maybe all these brief images and cravings had really gotten to me. Suddenly it was imperative that I close the blind next to Balt. I did this by squeezing in behind him in the breakfast nook area, my jeans-clad cock practically rubbing against the back of his head.
He was saying something like, “So what I’d like to do is confront this asshole bibliophile first thing. I don’t have to be back at Hardscrabble until sunup Thursday, in time to select some seedstock producers.”
Something like that.
All I knew was, I hadn’t even gotten the damned blind halfway down before Balt whipped his torso around. His strong arms embraced my hips, firmly grasping each ass cheek in a hand.
And he planted his face in my crotch.
“What the fuck—” I said, an automatic reaction.
My palm went to the crown of his head to push him away. But soon the thrill of his mouth gumming my prick through my jeans got to me.
“Oh, God—” But the “God” caught in my throat.
I couldn’t even say that, the sensation was so overwhelming.
Hot. Erotic. Mouth. Against my crotch.
He gummed me, breathing out forcefully against the damp fabric. I stumbled and would’ve fallen if I didn’t catch the wall behind me. He moved his jaw like a zombie, creaky, unhinged, out for cock. His forceful hot breaths spread out through my abdomen, causing my balls to rise and retract, ready for my dick to take over.
Instead of pushing on his head, now I cradled it to me. My eyes slid half-closed and I allowed the arousal to wash over me. It vaguely occurred to me that he was acting the part of the Dom, but I didn’t care. If it meant a mind-blowing skull job, I was all for it. When he used his teeth against my glans I gasped and almost smacked him upside the head, but I didn’t want this exquisite torture to stop.
He groaned as he worked his jaw. Each vibration rolled through my groin, making my insides quiver like tiny candle flames. My thighs tightened up as I pressed my center of gravity to Balt’s hungry mouth. I hoped he could tell I was hung like a martyr as his mouth worked its way from my head down the shaft.
His hand took over where his mouth had left off, fingering and scraping my glans with his nails. He moaned the loudest when he mouthed my balls, the vibrations rippling through my groin, and I knew I squirted a little. I didn’t care. Didn’t care there’d be a wet spot on my jeans because damn, this horny, hungry cowboy was actually mine, wasn’t he?
Mine for the taking. He was obediently suckling my tool, and didn’t that make me the Dom? Was I such a pleasure slut that I’d stand there, thighs trembling, just letting him go at his own pace? No! I had to take control. And so I did.
“Here, you hungry motherfucker,” I growled. My fingers fumbled with my belt buckle. My eyeballs nearly rolled up into my head when he breathed fire into my balls, my cock pulsating. “You’re so damned hungry for cock, aren’t you? Well, take this, you fucker. Take my giant horse cock into your mouth and swallow. Cumon, you fucker. Swallow my dick.”
The second I lifted my heavy prick into the air, everything changed.
Balthazar stood so suddenly, he jarred and nearly upset the breakfast table behind him. His hands hung at his sides, his arms long and sinewy. He crooked a grin, but it had nothing of the submissive’s eagerness to please. No. In fact, it had the opposite meaning.
I knew I was in trouble when his fingers flew over his own heavy, pewter belt buckle. His voice had a more pronounced drawl than usual. “I know you’re dying to come, you horny fucker. But you’re going to have to beg for it first.” His belt leather made a whooshing sound as he whipped it from the loops.
“I don't beg,” I assured him, gazing upon the belt with horror. He doubled it up and slapped his palm with it. That’s what I would have done. I’d done that dozens of times. It instilled the proper amount of fear into submissives. Instead, now I cringed back against the wall. I tried to sound confident. “That’s not about to—”
With one wrench of my arm he’d spun me around so I faced the wall. In fact, with his splayed hand against the side of my face like an alien jellyfish, he pressed my face to my own fucking wall. His hand holding the belt yanked down my jeans further—I’d been so stupid to take my cock out. His knees pressed into the backs of mine and my stupid hard-on was smashed up against the wall.
My ass was bare to the fucking air. Balt dry-humped me with self-assurance, his clothed erection pressing directly across my asscrack. I was as humble as the day I was born. I’d never been in such a position before.
“You want satisfaction, don’t you, you nasty fucker? Well, by the time I’m done with you you’re going to be begging for it.”
“Hardly.” It was difficult to sound haughty and above it all with my face smashed into my breakfast nook wall. “I’m the fucking Dom, you greasy cowpuncher. I’ve never begged for it in my life. If anything, people beg me. Yeah, you heard right. I’ve never—”
Thwack. The sudden loud spanking with the belt made my eyes pop open.
Thwack. The second had my jaw dropping.
Thwack. The third, and I was beginning to enjoy it.