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Authors: Pepper Espinoza

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BOOK: A Busted Afternoon
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“You should get out of those clothes,” Sammy murmured, his eyes averted.

“What about you?”

“Maybe I should, too.”

“It’d be easier if I drove a van.”

“We’d probably not be in this situation if you drove a van.”

“Maybe I should buy a van in Wendover.”

“It might be cheaper than a new alternator.”

Ed smiled a little and pulled the wet
shirt over his head. It slowly peeled from his skin, the rough material
dragging over his nipples. The windows were already starting to fog up,
and Sammy mimicked him. Though they were both shivering, Ed knew that
if they pressed their bodies together, the heat would overwhelm them.

“I’m sorry about your face,” Ed said, tossing the shirt over the seat. “That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay. I hit you first. How’s your
lip, by the way?” Sammy leaned closer and touched the corner of Ed’s
mouth with his thumb. “Did I hurt you?”

“It hurts a little.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have grabbed your shoulder. It’s not a…it’s no big deal.”

Ed spoke without looking away from Sammy’s
face. His eyes were both swollen—courtesy of Ed’s head—and his mouth
had finally stopped bleeding, but it was stained pink. He had no doubt
that Sammy planned to kiss him, but this time, the thought didn’t send
him spiraling out of control.

“Yeah, but…who else would be grabbing my shoulder out here? I was angry and…”

“And I made you that way because I was a jerk.” Ed leaned closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Did you mean what you said to me? Earlier?”

“Everything I told you is true. I don’t know if that’s the answer you wanted to hear.”

“It is.” Ed smiled. “I think.”

Sammy returned his smile. It wasn’t as
carefree as it had been before. And it would probably never be that
carefree again. But it was still one of the nicest smiles Ed had ever
seen. Even with the traces of blood on his teeth and his swollen lip. A
drop of water caught on his skin, and Ed wiped it away, smearing it
across Sammy’s pink lip. Sammy didn’t seem to be breathing, and Ed
couldn’t remember the last time he filled his lungs with air. He was
drowning in the middle of the desert.

There was only one reasonable thing to do. Without taking his much needed breath, he touched his lips to Sammy’s.

The number of people he’d kissed in his
life was no more than a handful. And most of those caresses had been
shy, fumbling, and awkward. This was shy, fumbling, and awkward. It was
half meant as an apology, for the way he had behaved earlier. And it
was half of a question. Fortunately, Sammy responded with an answer.
His lips parted, and the taste of copper on his mouth didn’t deter Ed
from sliding his tongue against Sammy’s.

A moan resonated through both of them,
and Ed couldn’t tell where it had originated. Only that he felt it deep
in his chest. Sammy wrapped his arm around Ed’s waist, pulling him
until their bodies were flush, their naked chests cold and hot against
each other at the same time. Ed’s soaked jeans felt even more
constricting on his hips as his cock stiffened, and he didn’t know how
he was going to escape them. There wasn’t enough room in the back to
kick free, and the material was clinging to him, and the zipper dug
into the tender skin at the tip of his cock.

I should have done this earlier. I should have been doing this for years.

All those long hours he had spent on
Sammy’s family farm would have been far more bearable if he had had
this waiting for him. They could have snuck off to Sammy’s room, or
behind the stack of hay, or in the barn, or about a million other
places Ed had discovered during the course of his employment. Any one
of them probably would have been far more comfortable than the back of
the station wagon, but, Ed had to admit, none of them would have been
quite as good as this.

They broke apart, each of them taking a
ragged gasp. Ed wasn’t sure what he expected to see in Sammy’s eyes,
but the heavy-lidded passion was enough to melt what little resistance
Ed had left. Nobody had ever,
ever
looked at Ed like that. It
was enough to make him flush. He opened his mouth and took another deep
breath, trying to inhale the scent of Sammy’s skin. Trying to taste it.
Lightning illuminated Sammy’s face, and they both froze until the
electric blue faded into darkness, and then crashed together as thunder
shook the car.

The road was completely abandoned, but
even if a series of trucks raced by, Ed would have no fear of being
noticed. The windows were already starting to steam, providing a
certain shield between the two of them and the rest of the watery
world. When Ed opened his eyes, he couldn’t see through the now opaque
windows, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see anything except
Sammy. And when his eyes were closed, he still saw Sammy clearly, his
fingers mapping the smooth lines of his body. His muscled arms. His
rigid back. The crests and valleys of his ribs. Ed’s fingers didn’t
stop until he reached the cold, heavy barrier of Sammy’s jeans.

Sammy conducted a similar exploration of
Ed’s body, but while Ed’s touch was light and searching, Sammy’s was
far more demanding. He didn’t think Sammy was trying to take complete
control of the situation, but ultimately, that was what he had. He had
the strength of somebody who’d spent most of his life playing football
and working the farm. Each caress, each touch, came with just enough
pressure to remind Ed that Sammy probably would have won the fight, if
Ed had goaded him into one. That sense of strength didn’t intimidate Ed
at all. If anything, it made his blood pulse harder, and all the
muscles from his neck to his groin twisted, tightening with
anticipation.

Anticipation of what, Ed wasn’t certain.
Other than occasional fantasies and nameless desires, Ed really had no
concept of what he was doing in the back of that car. The hunger for
Sammy was very real. Real enough to push him closer, to make him grasp
at Sammy’s arms and open up to each greedy kiss. But if Sammy asked
him, at that moment, just what Ed wanted him to
do
, Ed would
have no real response. He could really only hope that Sammy would know,
and in the meantime, he’d follow the other man’s lead.

Sammy, for his part, seemed happy to lead
Ed into more and more kisses, each one deeper and more searching.
Occasionally, there would be a miscue, and Sammy’s teeth would catch
against his lips, or their noses would knock together, or Ed would take
a breath just as Sammy claimed his mouth again, or some other similarly
undignified mishap would occur. Ed always tensed, but Sammy kept
pushing forward, like it didn’t matter. Soon, Ed began to understand.
Clumsy, grappling moments really didn’t matter. This wasn’t a
competition. Sammy wouldn’t be grading him. All that mattered was the
contact, and like Sammy, Ed couldn’t get enough of that.

Sammy rolled Ed to his back and straddled
his hips, pressing their cocks together. But their jeans made such
effective barriers that the new contact did nothing except frustrate
Ed. He smoothed his palms down Sammy’s back and cupped his ass, holding
him as close as possible as Sammy’s tongue plunged into his mouth. Ed
wasn’t sure who started moving first, but soon, Sammy was rocking
against him, his hips thrusting, and the car rocked with him.

“Sammy…we got to get out of these pants…”

“I know.”

Instead of giving Ed the space he needed
to wiggle from his drying jeans, he dragged his large hand across Ed’s
chest, his fingers settling on Ed’s nipple. The light touch was enough
to make his nerves jump, but it was the pinch of the hard flesh that
sent a bolt of electricity through him. He arched up from the bed of
the station wagon, his gasp lodged in his throat. Ed wanted to beg for
more, but he couldn’t speak. Sammy gave him what he wanted anyway,
pulling and pinching the sensitive skin between the rough calluses on
his thumb and forefinger.

“Pants,” Ed tried again.

“Don’t want to stop,” Sammy murmured
against his mouth. As if to prove it, his hips started moving faster.
Ed’s rough jeans caught against his cock, and the scrape of material
against his sensitive head made him cry out.

“It’ll be better without them.”

“I know. You’re right. Fuck. Don’t move.”

Ed didn’t have any intention of moving—or
any space to, even if he wanted to. He lay still, softly moaning as
Sammy peeled away from him. Ed expected Sammy to unbutton his own
pants, but his long fingers went directly to Ed’s fly. They fumbled
with the buttons for a moment before popping them free,
finally—blessedly—relieving Ed’s cock from the unbelievable pressure.

Sammy stared at him, as if transfixed by
the sight of his erection. Ed had snuck enough glances in the locker
room at school to know that, at least by Wyoming standards, he was much
bigger than average. But he didn’t know if he was quite big enough to
merit such a gobsmacked look.

“Sammy?”

“I didn’t really expect…now I’m not so sure I want to take off my own pants.”

“Don’t be stupid. Let me see.”

Without taking his attention away from Ed,
Sammy unbuttoned himself and pushed the flaps of his jeans back,
exposing his own shaft. He wasn’t as big as Ed, but that hardly
mattered. Especially since Ed was seized with the sudden desire to get
his mouth on Sammy’s length. He wasn’t quite sure what, exactly,
demanded
to be licked, but the desire was undeniable. Maybe it was his skin—Ed
had never seen anything quite so smooth. He reached out to touch it,
gently pulling the foreskin back so he could get a good look at Sammy’s
glistening head. Sammy’s whole body shook at the contact, but it was
the thought of that salty liquid that made Ed’s mouth water.

Before he could do anything about it, Sammy bent at the waist and caught the tip of Ed’s cock between his teeth.

“Oh my God! Oh my…oh my God…Sammy…oh fuck…oh fuck…”

The heat of his mouth against Ed’s skin
was absolutely excruciating and exquisite. Ed could think of absolutely
nothing to compare it to. Maybe if he went running through the rain and
let the lightning strike him from above, he would have some sort of
yardstick. But barring that, there was nothing as thrilling, as
shocking, as demanding on his senses as Sammy’s hot, soft, tight mouth.

“I never…holy fuck…Sammy…don’t stop. Please. Please. Please don’t stop.”

His pleas were wasted—clearly Sammy had
no intention of stopping. Ed had never really given too much thought to
all the elements that made up a mouth. Who had the time or the
inclination to sit around and muse on the shape of lips, or the texture
of a tongue? Ed didn’t have the inclination to muse on those things
now, but he wish he had before. Then maybe he could understand why the
tip of Sammy’s tongue could take him to such heights with only a few
flicks across his leaking slit. Or maybe he would know exactly why
Sammy’s lips made a perfect seal around his shaft. Or why the tips of
Sammy’s teeth didn’t quite hurt when they lightly scraped across his
tender flesh.

Sammy’s kisses had been amazing, but the
way he used his mouth on Ed’s cock was far above and beyond even the
satisfaction of the earlier caresses. And the heat was beyond any
comprehension. It was localized to the inches where Sammy’s mouth
actually held him, and yet, completely enveloped his body. The
temperature had fallen steadily in the car since the storm rolled in,
but Ed didn’t notice that. Or the way his cold pants were still wrapped
around his legs. Sammy’s mouth stoked fires beneath his flesh that
could chase away any chill.

His first touches had been light, almost
tentative. But the more Ed begged, the bolder Sammy became. His rough
fingers were wrapped around the base of Ed’s cock, and he used his
other hand to fondle Ed’s balls, flexing around the sac with just
enough force to make Ed’s stomach tighten. He used his tongue to gather
up the pre-come on Ed’s skin, and then moved farther and farther down,
his tongue sweeping over every inch of him. The only thing better than
his tongue was his occasional moan of what could only be satisfaction.
The sound vibrated through Ed’s cock, simultaneously drowning out the
relentless drone of the rain and caressing Ed’s twitching flesh.

“I need…Sammy…fuck…I don’t know what I need…fuck…”

Sammy didn’t lift his head, but Ed thought
he saw the corner of Sammy’s mouth lift in a smile. Like he was amused
by Ed’s torment.
We’ll see how amused he is when I drive him out of his mind.
The thought of indulging himself on Sammy’s body—of completely
overwhelming his senses with the other man’s scent and taste—pushed
him even closer to that indefinable edge.

Ed lifted his hips, mindlessly searching
for more of that heat. Sammy moved with him, but as the friction
increased, so did his hunger. Until he was moving with a certain
abandon, his hips thrusting wildly, his hands reaching blindly for
something to grasp onto. Something to ground him. After a particularly
powerful thrust, he heard Sammy gasp, and then something constricted
around his shaft, squeezing him with enough pressure to make him
whimper. It was Sammy’s throat, he realized. He’d managed to bury
himself deep, and judging by the way Sammy’s eyes widened, it was a
shock for both of them.

BOOK: A Busted Afternoon
13.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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