Page 88 of From the Ashes
“If you don’t start stroking my cock like you mean it, I’mgoing to roll you over and use it to cut off your air supply,” I threaten, my dick throbbing to the point of pain under his touch.
I’m on my back with his head resting on my chest, and I feel his smile.
“Doesn’t sound like a bad way to die,” he mumbles, groggily.
I grope around my nightstand blindly until my hand lands on the bottle of lube. I grab a pump-full and swat at his hand so I can speed this process up.
His chuckle lands on my skin.
“You live to torment me, don’t you?” I tease, lubing my shaft before grabbing his hand and placing it back on my cock with my hand over top, showing him what I want.
“Your reactions make it so much fun,” he answers in the dark.
Two can play this game,I think to myself.
I remove my hand from his and reach down to grab his already hardening dick in my fist. He groans, pushing himself further into my hold. And there we lie, jacking each other off before the sun comes up. I stifle a chuckle because it’ll be the third day this week we have to wash the sheets…and it’s only Wednesday.
Wanting more, and finally fully awake, Walker sits up and leans his back against the headboard and he pulls me onto his lap. We’re roughly the same size, but I’m rarely in this position. Not that we’re overly concerned about roles, knowing we’ll give each other whatever the other needs, but I usually control where things go. For his loud mouth and smartass answers, Walker and I’s dynamic has always been that I tend to call the shots in the bedroom.
So, when he pulls me on top of him now, I don’t hesitate, glad he’s taking what he wants.
With my knees tucked behind me, I straddle his hips. He leans over for more lube before bringing his hand back and wrapping it around both of our dicks, smashing them together and jacking us off simultaneously.
I rake my palms down his pecs, pausing to roll his nipples between my index fingers and my thumbs. His head dips back and lands against the headboard, so I leave my hands in place, getting harder at his response. I’ve never slowed down long enough to toy with his nipples, but you can bet I’ll be doing it again.
“I’m gonna come,” he announces unnecessarily. With our cocks pressed together, I can feel his head swell and it makes my own dick harder.
“Me too, baby. Don’t stop.”
I pinch his nipples hard and as soon as I tug, we’re grunting through our releases. My cum leaves my body in a controlled manner, like a slow volcanic eruption, spilling over the side of my head and running down his hand. Walker’s, however, shoots from his dick like Old Faithful, but with more power than the geyser itself. It’s both sexy as fuck and impressive as it lands on my stomach, his chest,andthe sheets around us.
Once we recover, I can’t help but laugh. “You know, if you ever fuck me, I’m pretty sure it’ll feel like I’m taking a fire hose up the ass.”
When he responds, his tone is serious. “Is that something you want?”
“You to fuck me? Or a firehose in my ass?” I ask, still smiling.
Finally, he cracks a smile of his own. “Me to fuck you, idiot.”
Instead of answering right away, I sit up, pushing his still half-hard cock behind me. When I sit back down, it’s betweenmy cheeks as I slide back and forth. “Yeah, Walker. I want you to fuck me.”
He’s looking at me like he wants to do it right now despite just getting off. It’s fun as hell to tease him, but the reality is, we have shit we need to get done today.
He grips my hips and begins pushing and pulling me along his length, his gaze hooded, and lips parted.Christ, I think he’s actually getting hard again.
“Soon, baby. But not right now,” I tell him, sliding off his lap. “We have a barn full of animals to feed, two interviews for farmhands to do today, and your son will be here for dinner.”
He tries to grab my torso before I’m out of reach, but he isn’t fast enough.
We shower and grab coffee before heading out to the barn to start our chores at five o’clock on the dot.
I thought leavinghim hard and wanton would be a fun way to torture Walker, but my boyfriend is currently shirtless in Wrangler’s, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat, driving my fucking tractor. Just because you ride broncs doesn’t necessarily mean you know how to do all the other shit that goes along with owning a farm, but Walker does, and I’mwaymore on-edge than he is. Needless to say, my plan backfired in a big way.
By three, we’re both sweating bullets and it’s a miracle any fucking work has gotten done. Well, it’s been done between make out sessions behind the barn and on the tractor—and a handjob against a tree—but the point is, the horses are in the pasture, the chickens’ eggs have been collected, the stalls have been cleaned, and we’ve baled the hay that’s ready.
The last one’s not really a job we could leave halfway done, so there’s no time to grab showers before we interview the first kid wanting to take over Walker’s job as my farmhand.
Except the guy isn’t akidat all. From the sound of his voice on the phone, I thought he was maybe nineteen. Local college kids are perfect for this gig because the hours easily work around class schedules. Considering one of the country’s largest agricultural sciences schools is right down the road, I typically don’t have any trouble finding someone interested in farm work, and it usually counts as fieldwork or an internship for them. I was nervous when Trisha left because it was the start of summer and most everyone had already found their jobs.
