Page 23 of Wistful in Wyoming
“Yeah?”
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered, but I need you to take a deep breath and relax.”
His face was impossibly hot as his heart pounded against his ribs. Unbelievable. Heneverblushed! Couldn’t remember the last time he had—probably in high school. “Okay, I’m trying here, you just ... you’re so ...you.” Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair before dragging them down his face, trying to regain control. “Okay. Slow. Got it.”
Squatting down and wincing as his jeans tightened around his nearly full-fledged hard-on, he handed the blanket to Jeremiah who left the grass for the mostly sandy beach. After a brief scan of the immediate area, he found a spot that was free of rocks to spread the blanket on. While Jeremiah did that, Dale brought over the backpack and cooler and started pulling out the contents.
“You realize I don’t know what the hell that means right?” Jeremiah asked, from where he was now sitting on the flannel blanket. Resting on his back, propped up on his elbows, with his hat partially shading his face, he looked like a centerfold come to life.
Mentally groaning, Dale shifted his hips, while trying to remember what Jeremiah had just said and what his response should be. The man scrambled his damn brains. “What?”
“You said, ‘you’re so you.’ I don’t know what that means.”
It only took Dale two seconds to give up on answering because he couldn’t think straight at the moment. Instead, he handed containers to Jeremiah, explaining what each one was as he passed them over. “We have turkey and cheese or roast beef sandwiches—I wasn’t sure which you would prefer. If you don’t want to choose, we can split them in half. Macaroni salad—my mom’s recipe by the way with no damn hard-boiled eggs in it. I hate when people do that.” He shoved his hand back into the backpack and pulled out a bag. “Chips. And in the cooler, a few bottles of my homemade beer, some soda, and strawberry shortcake for dessert.”
“You brought strawberry shortcake?” Jeremiah’s voice was soft, like a child who couldn’t believe he’d been given a gift he’d always wanted.
“Sure. You said it was your favorite, right? I didn’t get that wrong, did I? I also have whipped cream—I wasn’t sure how you liked it.”
Jeremiah leaned forward, gently setting the cooler that still had the drinks in it aside, before pushing Dale onto his back, causing a surprisedoomphto erupt. Jeremiah climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Bracing himself on his palms above Dale, he leaned down and kissed him, going straight from zero to sixty in two-point-eight seconds, devouring his mouth and sucking the air from his lungs. Jeremiah ground his pelvis down, rubbing his ass against Dale’s hardness, making him hiss in a breath.
Thrilled and a little scared, Dale thought his heart would beat out of his chest. Something had changed just now, and he was really liking where this was going but also afraid to read too much into it. Yeah, the physical attraction was there in spades, there was no denying that, but he was starting to feel more for Jeremiah. It was so much more than he’d ever felt for anyone in his life, including Chris, the fellow Marine Dale had thought he’d been in love with, but who’d broken his heart instead.
“Jay ... ” He groaned as Jeremiah writhed and pushed, rocking them both to heights that shouldn’t be possible with their clothes still on. Jeremiah was licking his neck and nipping at his ears before sucking on the lobe. Dale shivered, thrusting his hips up, needing more friction, more pressure, more Jeremiah.
“Don’t say stop, please, Dale.” Jeremiah sat up, scooching back, so his ass was resting on Dale’s thighs. Both his hands went to Dale’s belt. “Fuck slow. Fuck ... waiting. I want you in my mouth. Say yes.”
“Yes. Jesus,yes.” Any other answer would’ve been impossible.
Grinning like a kid in a candy store with an unlimited budget, Jeremiah scooted down further, moving to kneel between Dale’s spread legs and undoing his belt and jeans before shoving his shirt up faster than Dale could even blink. Strong, calloused palms and fingers settled on his abdomen before running up to his chest, pinching his nipples, and descending again, stopping at the waistband of his boxers. Dale almost whimpered and begged him to go lower, but he’d already handed over too much control to Jeremiah. To protect his heart, he had to use caution.
“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for so long.” Jeremiah stroked his way back up to Dale’s chest. His fingers raked through the coarse, dark hair there, following it down to his belly, and then back up to his pecs again. Over and over, he repeated the motions, until Dale was ready to jump out of his skin and take control of the situation. But he had to give this to Jeremiah, the chance to be free to explore and be with someone who wasn’t a one-night stand.
“I fucking love your hands on me.” Dale’s words ended with a long, loud, and filthy moan as he threw his head back when a wet tongue lashed at one of his nipples. Jeremiah had leaned forward to lave and suck on the taut peaks, switching back and forth, before trailing kisses down Dale’s torso until he reached the band of his underwear. He nestled his face against the hardness tenting the material, breathing deep and inhaling Dale’s scent. At Jeremiah’s urging, Dale lifted his hips, and the boxer briefs and jeans were dragged down to his knees.
Freed from its confines, Dale’s stiff cock slapped against his stomach. Unable to resist, he stared down his body at Jeremiah who in turn was gazing up at Dale, his eyes full of wonder and pure salacious want. Jeremiah licked his lips, flattened onto his stomach, and buried his face in Dale’s groin. He gently nuzzled Dale’s balls, licking the skin where his thigh met his groin, and sucking hard enough to leave a mark of possession. Precum leaked from the tip of Dale’s cock in a steady stream. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on. Maybe never.
“You smell amazin’.”
“Jay,” he gasped, almost as if he was being strangled. “You’re killing me.” He raised himself up onto his elbows, needing to observe every erotic act Jeremiah was performing on him.
“Oh, baby, I haven’t even started.” Jeremiah took Dale’s cock in hand, sliding his palm gently up the hard length. His thumb rubbed over the slit, spreading the fluid there around and using it to slick his way back down to the base where he squeezed firmly, forcing a moan from Dale’s throat. Jeremiah winked before leaning forward and taking Dale deep into his mouth.
“Oh, God! Oh, Jesus! Fuck!” His arms collapsed, and he fell back, thrusting his hips upward and shoving his cock further into Jeremiah’s hot mouth—so wet and tight and perfect. The cowboy’s head bobbed, taking the entirety of Dale’s cock into his throat with nearly every pass. Saliva ran down, coating his balls. The sounds coming from Jeremiah were obscene. Grunts, moans, slurps, and muffled words. They were almost as hot as the skillful tongue that laved every inch of Dale’s dick. He forced his mind not to think about who Jeremiah had practiced on to be so good at giving head. The man might’ve been unsure about some things in their budding relationship, but blow jobs wasn’t one of them.
Jeremiah drew up, holding only the top two inches of Dale’s shaft inside his mouth. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked hard as their gazes met. Dale’s breathing sped up to an unimaginable rate, his heart near to bursting. Jeremiah’s tongue ran over the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head of his cock, over and over, pressing and shifting while he sucked in tandem with his hand squeezing the hard flesh. His thumb and fingers wrapped around the other man’s cock and met his lips, working in sync to bring Dale higher and higher. Up and down, steadily and with complete confidence. His eyes, now the color of moss, blazed with heat and passion, never leaving Dale’s.
“Jay ... I’m almost ... ”
Nodding, Jeremiah increased his assault, seemingly determined to suck Dale’s brains out through his cock. The pressure was immense, and Dale was almost afraid to come as his orgasm barreled closer to the surface. Jeremiah snaked his free hand between Dale’s ass cheeks, pressing a single finger against his hole. That was all it took to send Dale flying over the edge. Roaring, he bolted upright, curving his torso over Jeremiah’s head, holding him tightly by the shoulders as he thrust his cock deeper into the man’s mouth. Dale’s vision blurred, his mind going off-line to where all he could do was feel the intense pleasure ripping through him. He gasped, unable to get enough air. His cum shot down Jeremiah’s throat, in multiple, seemingly endless spurts. He felt like he came for hours, and when the spasms ebbed and finally stopped, he fell backward, arms splayed wide as he struggled to remember his name. Somehow, his lungs remembered to work again, and he panted.
Jeremiah rested his head on Dale’s stomach, his fingers playing with the fine hair there. Dale’s mostly soft and slightly sticky cock rested against the base of the man’s throat which he didn't seem to mind a single bit. “You okay?”
“Not sure. I can’t—you broke me. Words ... hard right now. Can’t think.” After a moment, he reached down and tugged on Jeremiah’s shoulders, urging him up to drape over him. “I want to return the favor. I want to taste you too.”
A chuckle erupted from Jeremiah, along with a sheepish grin as he slid off Dale and cuddled into his side. “No need. I came when you did. Though, if you have a pair of shorts or something in your truck, I’d be grateful.”
Dale’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped. “You came from blowing me?” He’d heard of that happening, but always to other people or in some of the gay romance/suspense novels he liked to read occasionally. He’d never actually experienced it himself or had it happen to anyone he’d ever been with.
