Page 50 of His Cowboy Heart

Each night I’d get a glimpse of him applying makeup or showing me clothes on a hanger that he’d been planning to model for me in person. Everything about the videos was as erotic as if I’d been there in his room with him. Even the act of Jules applying makeup and explaining to me about every step of the process and all the color palettes he was using had made me hard as a rock. Jules may have acted innocent, but I’d known better. The man had taken every opportunity to tease me. The way he applied lipstick or gloss to his lips, the way he ran his hands all over his body as he talked about how good the material of each outfit would feel against his skin had driven me crazy. I’d jerked myself off many times after my second heart attack, but there’d never been any true pleasure in the act. It’d become a biological need and nothing more. But the more Jules had teased me, the more I’d found myself jerking off in the shower or on my bed while watching the less-than-explicit videos. My orgasms had been incredible, but I’d instinctively known that the real thing would be so much more.

I’d lasted less than a week before I’d fallen back in line with doing what Jules wanted. In truth, his little tease shows had proven something besides the fact that Jules was winning our little standoff. During all the jerking off I’d done, I’d felt my heart rate rising and my breathing becoming harsher each time, but the fears I’d experienced the first few times I’d tried to be intimate with Jules when we’d first met hadn’t been there. I’d begun to believe what my doctor had told me after my second heart attack: I could have a normal sex life.

After I conceded failure, Jules had continued to visit me each night, but we’d never gone past a few deep kisses that I’d been more than ready to get lost in. I’d been rewarded for my behavior with videos of Jules not only putting on one of several meant-for-the-bedroom-only outfits, but he’d started to touch himself in them, describing in explicit detail how it was my hands instead of his own that were stroking the delicate material. It was only a couple nights earlier that he had started video chatting with me. I’d ended up with a full-on sex show because Jules had touched himself intimately. God, the sounds he’d made. He’d ordered me not to touch myself during the video, and since he could both see and hear me, I’d been forced to obey if I wanted to see more. Eventually he’d let me tell him where I wanted him to put his hands and pretend they were mine. I’d gotten the green light to fill his head with all kinds of dirty talk and to take complete control of his pleasure. I was allowed to jerk myself off too, but the tease always ended just as Jules started to come. He’d either turn the camera off or away, leaving me with nothing or just the sounds Jules made as he came.

I’d gotten off either way, but there’d still been something missing each time.

Jules was driving me crazy with lust, but the need to just be with him, even if it was to engage in a lot of cuddling and next to no foreplay, was a thousand times more powerful. When I did come into contact with him during the day, he’d always send me this coy, knowing smile. It got even worse when he began to wear a touch of makeup during the day along with one of his flashier outfits. The mere knowledge that the past three weeks had given Jules the confidence to ditch the jeans and sweatshirts more and more and be his most natural self made everything worth it.

That was the truest pleasure he could have ever given me, though he probably didn’t know that.

So I was both happy and miserable at the same time. The happiness outweighed the misery of all the hands-on action I was missing out on, though.

I glanced at the clock to check the time. Jules usually video chatted with me between nine and ten when most of the household went to bed, but he was more than an hour late. My cock was painfully hard, but I didn’t dare touch myself.

Jules didn’t like it when I came before he did, so I had no choice but to wait.

My phone finally beeped just before midnight, only Jules hadn’t started a video chat. Instead, he’d sent a text.

The first one was a picture of an outfit I’d never seen before. It was a two-piece number that included a skimpy top made of lace and spaghetti straps. The lace was weaved together in a way that left openings that would show skin once the top was on. The bottom half was nothing more than sheer white silky-looking pants that would leave nothing to the imagination. I swore my heart skipped several beats as I imagined what the outfit would look like on Jules.

I was so hung up on the first text with the picture, it took me a few seconds to notice Jules had sent me another text.

Haven’t tried this one on yet. I think I need an in-person opinion. What do you think?

I didn’t even hesitate to throw my phone aside, scramble off the bed and rush out of my room, barely remembering to lock it. It was all I could do not to sprint down the length of the bunkhouse to the exit. Once I was outside, I scanned the area for any would-be late-night explorers and then I was striding toward the main house. I was so hard, I could barely walk straight. My heart was already pounding in my chest, but my brain recognized what the physiological response was.

And it most definitely wasnotpanic.

I had to tread lightly once I reached the porch, and by the time I got past the unlocked door and made my way up the creaking stairs, it felt like I was going to come the second I got inside of Jules’s room. His door was slightly cracked, so I didn’t bother to knock. The lights were off in the room, but Jules had lit several candles, making it easy enough to see.

The candles weren’t really the first thing I noticed. They just gave me the opportunity to see the one thing I wanted to see.

Jules.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, fully clothed in the same jeans and glittery top he’d been wearing all day. I didn’t care. All I really wanted was him. He could have been wearing his birthday suit or a burlap sack and I would have felt exactly the same as I did now. I closed the door behind me and turned the lock. There was no taking my eyes off him as I approached the bed.

Jules was wearing makeup that was bolder than what he’d had on during the day, but not as intense as I’d seen it the first time I’d been in his room. God, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

I was in the process of reaching for him when Jules put his hand up and softly said, “Yellow light.”

Was he fucking kidding me?

“Jules,” I growled.

His expression didn’t waver. The coy innocence in the way he held his body and the soft smile that showed off his shimmering, full lips remained the same. I noticed that the outfit he’d sent me the picture of was spread out next to him on the bed.

“Over there,” Jules said with a graceful tilt of his head. A simple wooden chair was in the corner of the room. It offered a view of the bed, but only the side closer to the chair would give me a full view. Jules was currently sitting on the wrong side for that to happen. I’d only see him from the waist up.

I did what he told me anyway. The chair was incredibly uncomfortable given my current state of arousal, but I had a feeling I was going to need to get used to it.

As soon as I sat down, Jules glanced over his shoulder at me before he lovingly ran his fingers over the outfit. His touch was light and hard to see. It almost looked like he wasn’t really touching it.

The idea that he’d actually waited to truly experience what the fabric felt like had the air catching in my lungs. When his delicate fingers disappeared, they reappeared at his sides. He slowly took off the shirt he was wearing, revealing the graceful line of his back in the process. I hadn’t been given the opportunity to see Jules’s entire body in such an intimate state, at least not in person. The videos didn’t do the real thing justice.

I leaned forward in the chair so I could take in the way every muscle and curve rippled as he shimmied out of the snug shirt. He took his time folding the shirt and setting it on the bed next to him. I was in tracking mode as I watched his every move, studied every arch and shift of his body as he reached for the lace top. I forgot that I couldn’t see his entire body because I was hyper focused on what little he was showing me. Not surprisingly, Jules took his time putting the top on. He made sure to skim his body with his own fingers at every opportunity. I realized he was wearing the nail polish he’d bought the day we’d met.

The polish I’d returned to him.

---