Sergeant Bull : Part 10

Bull slid a hand down the other man’s chest and worked his way into Jamey’s tight whites. While stroking seven bone-hard inches of Texas dick, he growled, “Come on, son. Time to bring this party home.”

Flung in haste, Jamey’s soaked underwear struck the motel room wall with a loud, wet smack.

“Fuck that little tramp,” the local boy howled, burying his cock all the way down Bull’s throat. “Suck my fuckin’ cock, Sarge!”

The taste of raw male sweat and chlorine ignited across Bull’s tongue. He tugged on Jamey’s pool-tightened nuts and gobbled the younger man’s hairy tool. For the next few minutes, while he hummed up and down on Jamey’s cock, he jacked his dick against the perfect muscles of the local boy’s leg. With Jamey dribbling precome into Bull’s mouth, he knew the time was right for some return service.

He spit out Jamey’s cock and stood, brandishing eight rock-hard inches in need of attention. “Suck it,” he growled. Jamey hesitated. Bull rubbed its come-dripping head against the younger man’s lips and repeated the order.

Jamey’s mouth opened tentatively for a lick. It was all the invitation Bull needed. He forced his tool between Jamey’s lips and moaned his approval. “Fuck, yeah!” he grunted through clenched teeth. “Be careful, son. Yeah, just like that! Suck my fuckin’ hairy root, boy!”

The younger man’s lack of skill but fresh enthusiasm felt so good, Bull had to work to put off coming too fast. With one hand choking his nuts and the other pumping his own rod, Jamey sucked him off without breaking stride for the next fifteen minutes. Bull felt the fire in his balls steadily building, but when he looked down to see his eight-incher sliding in and out of the young man’s mouth, he lost it.

“I’m coming, son-!” he howled.

Jamey sucked harder, catching the first bullet of jizz without gagging. The second spurt went down hard. Choking, he spit out Bull’s cock. The rest of the Sergeant’s load sprayed his chin.

Once he stopped coming, Bull sank to his knees between Jamey’s legs and licked his face clean. As expected, his load tasted heavy and bitter, the result of a full month on the road without any distraction except for the comfort of his own right hand.

As sour as his sperm was, Jamey’s proved fresh and salty. After cleaning up the mess, Bull went down to find the younger man right on the verge of shooting. A few sucks later, Jamey unloaded. The throaty moans filling the Texan roadside motel trailed to breathless sighs, swallowed whole by the oppressive heat of a long, dark night.

He’d wanted some pussy that night, a choice, no nonsense love-’em-and-leave-’em hole to fuck and walk away from.

And he’d gotten it.

Bull fucked Jamey twice before passing out spent beside him. By sunrise when he woke to another scorcher and the prospect of driving in it, all bets were off.

“I’m outta here,” Bull growled. Freshly showered and ready to ride, he watched Jamey hustle clumsily back into his still-wet underwear.

“What about me, dude?” the younger man griped. “Is that it?”

Bull pocketed his wallet and grabbed his helmet off the nightstand. “Lock up when you’re ready to go. I told you, this wasn’t about nothing except what we did last night.”

Jamey struggled into his boots without bothering to pull on his socks. “No, I meant – guy, I came here with you, ‘member? How do you expect me to get my ass home?”

For a moment, Bull thought about tossing the local boy a twenty like he might have to some cheap whore. He could also just walk away, walk on out like he had on so many people over the years. For a brief and frightening instant, a host of faces hovered half out of focus in the humid morning air.

Bull met Jamey’s confused, handsome face and smiled. “I’ll give you a lift if you move that hot butt of yours. Gotta get home soon, son. Got sixty straight hours of hell with the U.S. Army waiting for me in the wilds of Georgia, and I couldn’t be more stoked about it:”