Chapter 13

“Stroking you off, man,” Cord murmured, holding himself over me. The cowboy’s palm and fingers were snug around my cock as they pumped. “I’m going to make you shoot, Bradley.”

“Go for it,” I said, pumping his fist with my own weight, lifting my hips off the bed and against his hand. My topaz-blue eyes locked onto his black ones. We fell under each other’s sexual spell, my city cock in his country-boy hand. And I pounded him in all my glory. One thrust led to a dozen or more as I slowly built my orgasm, which was going to explode in due time.

His hand job was everything I thought it would be: it turned me on with its high energy and our lust; his hand was exceptionally talented—he’d soon accomplish great and sticky things.

“You like it when I play with you?”

“Yeah,” I replied, quivering with delight under his smooth touch.

“You like it enough to blow?”

“Course,” I said, already feeling elation bubble up inside me, foretelling a spew-fest from my eight-inch spike.