Page 10 of Bulls and Their Boy

“Still, I keep catching his eyes on me, on my dick, then he looks away, knowing he got busted, but he doesn’t stop, so maybe he wants to get busted, if you know what I mean.”

“Like he’s cruising but thinking it’s unprofessional. I get it. We can always show him how to mix business and pleasure.”

“We’re good at that,” he told me with a cheeky wink.

We walked together back to the barn and had Roland follow us to the house. Once inside, we sat at our lovely barnwood table with the exaggerated bolting on the sides and long benches that was almost at home in the new place. One of the few pieces we owned that was.

Roland was using his stylus on the tablet, drawing a few things as Damon listed them. Though, the more Damon spoke, the rougher and deeper his voice became. Roland noticed and he began to squirm.

“I figure we’ll have a bed in the back of the stage, but a Murphy bed, you know that once the men are done pounding the hell out of a sweet submissive ass, we can fold it easily away.”

I kept my laughter contained, but it wasn’t easy. As the conversation went on, Roland began to sweat. I saw a drop running down his temple then over his cheek that he didn’t seem to notice. It was sexy, the way that sweat ran there, screaming about how aroused he was becoming.

“Murphy…bed. G-got it.”

“Yeah, then a couple long, long bars, hanging from the ceiling, the kind with cuffs on the ends so a man could be bound there, and used at the will of the dominant. Like, say, his big hands, rubbing all over the submissive’s hot flesh, groping him, putting him on display so everyone sees him being used.”

As Roland fidgeted on the bench, he took to erasing some things, then adding again, and erasing again, as he was becoming flustered. “G-got it. Long, long,” he started and then swallowed hard. “Bars.”

Damon’s smile couldn’t be contained, and he stared hard at Roland, who was avoiding Damon’s eyes like they would set him aflame with one glance. I had to admit, I felt like squirming myself. Damon’s rough voice did that to me, sending chills and fever through me at once, the best kind of conflicting sensations.

“The rooms upstairs, a man can be taken there, locked inside with a dominant and ravaged, his clothes torn off him, hands spreading his ass open, a tongue touching his sweet, tight hole…”

Roland set the tablet on the table and proceeded to rub his likely very sweaty palms over his jeans. “You’re messing with me,” he said with a nervous, tittering laugh.

Damon moved in closer to him, and with that rough voice I’d heard only while we were playing, he said one word to Roland. “Run.”

Roland’s head snapped to the side as his eyes grew huge. “W-what are you talking about?”

I didn’t know where Damon was going with this, but he’d never steered me wrong, so I repeated it. “Run, Roland.”

“Run? R-run?”

“Yeah,” Damon said locking eyes with me for a moment before moving them back to Roland. “We’re going to hunt you down, move in on you and once we catch you, we’re going to fuck you so hard, you won’t walk right for a week. Maybe even longer. So… run .”

He looked from one of us to the other, lips twitching like he wanted to smile, or rather wanted us to smile to let him know we were kidding.

I knew my partner, and he wasn’t kidding, and the more I thought about it, it sounded like a grand idea. Hunting this guy down, taking him in the trees like we were a bunch of animals. Yeah, that sounded just fine.

“You guys are joking, right?”

Damon snatched Roland’s wrist from the table and brought it to his crotch, letting Roland feel his erection. “Does this feel like a joke to you?”

Damn, that was hot, and I watched it breathless as to what Roland’s reaction would be, and it was great. He turned red and started shaking with need. I’d seen that look in his eyes on other men, men that needed a good dick or two. Pupils blown, the white reddening, and the sweat began to pour off his head.

Roland pulled back his hand, rubbing his wrist absently. “What…what if I don’t run?”

First Damon crossed his arms over his big chest, then I did the same, letting him take the lead. “Nothin’. We’ll bid you a fond farewell and wait for your email about the plans for the barn. We’re not out to rape you, Roland. We just want to hunt you down and fuck the living hell out of you, if you consent to that.”

I added, “And if you do consent and make it too easy to catch you, you won’t get off. We’ll shoot loads on your face and make you leave messy and unsatisfied. So, if you’re gonna run, you better run like hell.”

He moved one leg to the outside of the bench, but stared at both of us, mouth hanging open. “Run?”

Damon rose from the bench and moved his mouth right next to Roland’s ear. “Run.”

If it wasn’t so hot, and I mean I was panting too, it would have caught me as hilarious. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast, scrambling off that bench, catching the toe of his shoe on the edge and tripping before crawling on hands and feet a few steps and finally getting upright to run like the devil was chasing him, out of the dining room, though the living room and out the front door.

The screen slammed loudly, and I thought, yeah, the devils were chasing him alright.

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