Sergeant Bull : Part 10

A wall of brutally hot and humid air blasted him head-on as he exited the bar. Night had settled fully, bringing no relief from the inferno he’d encountered on his way through Texas. The fire burning in his nuts more than compensated; Bull barely broke a sweat. A few paces across the dusty pavement to the parking lot, he waved the local boy over.

“Let’s settle this now, cleanly, like gentlemen,” he said. “Just you and me, one on one.”

“Oh, I ain’t no gentleman,” Jamey huffed. “And neither are you. Think you’re real tough with your skinhead and bullshit Army talk, don’t ya?”

Bull sized his young opponent up. “It ain’t bullshit, boy,” he laughed confidently. “Twenty year vet, son. Grenada, Iraq, Somalia. Tell me what kind of threat some little pussy boy from butt-fuck Texas is gonna pose to me.” He gave Jamey a forceful shove backward. The young wrangler held his ground as best he could. “Huh?” Bull pushed him a second time. Jamey fell ass-first to the ground.

He wasn’t down long. Springing quickly up to his booted feet, Jamey lunged for Bull, who sidestepped him, put him in a headlock, and pressed his bucking body flush against his side. This close, the younger man’s smell – a strangely-attractive mix of Texas heat, cheap cologne, clean sweat, beer, and denim – filled Bull’s next breath. “Fucker-!” Jamey shouted. He fired off a few jabs before Bull pinned him fully. “That’s the plan,” Bull spat. “I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend’s pretty snatch.”

“She ain’t my girlfriend,” Jamey huffed. “Least, not yet, dude. I was planning on hooking up with her ’til you tom-catted your ass into things!” Again, the stab of regret Bull had felt earlier sliced though his cockiness. He thought about releasing the other man, but the sound of the bar door banging shut spun them both around one hundred and eighty degrees. With Jamey’s head locked under his right armpit, he watched in disbelief as the hot little ass they were arguing over sauntered past. Two denim-clad bodies – Jamey’s supposed buddies – flanked her arm-in-arm.

“Losers!” she screamed.

Bull slowly dropped Jamey free of his grip and straightened, bewildered, as the threesome boarded a beat-up truck. “What the fuck-?” Jamey asked. His only answer came after the truck peeled away in a hail of dust, hoots, and catcalls.

“Guess she’s their girlfriend tonight,” Bull sputtered.

Jamey shrugged. “Yeah, those fuckers. Well don’t this just suck!”

Bull wasn’t sure how long he stood staring after the pickup’s rear lights. Feeling stupid once the truck vanished down the road, cheated, and still quite horny, he faced Jamey. “That fuckin’ little cunt.”

“No shit,” the younger man growled. He groped the well-packed front of his blue jeans and shook it in the imagined direction of the faded taillights. “Blow me, you bitch!”

“Don’t think that’s gonna happen, son,” Bull sighed. He clapped a hand to Jamey’s shoulder, which earned him a sour look, but nothing more. Whatever anguish had risen between them in competition for a go at Kimmy Sue’s snatch fell flat now that it was obvious neither of them would be putting it to her.

Jamey sighed a breathless, “Fuck,” before leaning in. “So, you want another brewsky?”

Bull shook his head. “I need a piss.”

“Yeah,” the other man agreed. “Me, too.”

Saying nothing further, Bull strutted around the sports bar’s entrance to the alley behind it. The steady clunk-clunking of Jamey’s boots on the dusty hardtop told him he wasn’t the only one feeling stupid.

“So, she ain’t your chick?” Bull huffed. He fumbled in the meaty warmth inside his zipper. His cock had softened enough to pull it and both of his low-hangers safely out. Hot night air gusted over his sac, loosening it fully.

“I think that bitch has been with everybody,” Jamey chuckled. “Every soldier in town’s fucked her. But fuckin’ Deke and Randy. They ain’t nothing but dogs, dude.”

Bull smiled and tipped his eyes to the man beside him. “Your buddies?”

“Yeah.”

“If they’re dogs, what does that make us?”

“Lonely and horny,” Jamey growled. He followed the statement with a loud howl. “Awooooooooooo!”

Bull glanced down to see proof of the other man’s claim. Beneath the silver oval of his belt buckle, Jamey’s twenty-year-old cock and fat, hairy bag of nuts dangled out of his jeans. Like Bull, he hadn’t started to piss yet, due to the fact he’d popped half of what looked to be a good, thick seven inches of hard-on. The image instantly aroused Bull’s manhood back to where it had been when the thought he was going to fuck some pussy.

“Shit, son,” Bull said. “We’re both hurting.”

Jamey flashed a goofy smile and locked eyes with Bull. For the first time, he realized how hot the local boy was; not just good-looking or well built, but scorchingly handsome. Bull gazed down again as Jamey pushed and grunted. All the effort did was cause his bone-hard cock to pivot in place.

“You might have to get that taken care of,” Bull growled.

“Only hope just drove off with my two best buddies.”

Bull shook his head. “No, not your only hope of getting some action tonight.” He took hold of his dick and squeezed it by the root, an action that sent it up to its full eight inches.

Jamey shook his head. “Holy shit,” he said. “You suggestin’ what I think you are?”