I’m not sure I’ve ever had a partner beg me like this. Wantmymouth on them like this. Driven them to the edge like this.
Fuck, it’s powerful.
I hum in contentment as I put him out of his misery and take as much of him in my mouth as I can manage. His cock pulses and makes me gag.
“Ohmyfuckinggod,yesssss,” Casey hisses above me.
I readjust on my knees, bringing my left hand to the base of his shaft to match the rhythm of my mouth, ensuring his entire dick is being cared for.
Casey is propped up on his elbows on part of the tractor behind him, his cowboy hat still in the pumpkin patch somewhere, and he’s looking down at me with pure lust in his eyes.
I pick up my speed and feel his legs begin to quiver as his orgasm looms nearer.
“Fuck, that’s good, baby. I’m so fucking close.”
I love a man who talks. Not that I’ve been withthatmany men, but still, I know what I like. I’ve already told him I don’t like to have to guess what someone’s thinking.
As if he can read my thoughts, he kicks it up a notch.
“Mason, I’m about to spill my cum down your throat, baby. There’s no pressure to swallow, but I’m cl…close…oh shit.” Both of Casey’s hands are on the back of my head, and I can tell he’s trying not to forcibly fuck my throat, but I can also tell he wants to.
I don’t know anything about his past, his partners, if he’s negative, or if he’s ever been tested, but still, I don’t pull away. Confident he’d tell me if there was something I should know, I stay on my knees, drunk off his scent, feel, and taste, drinking him down.
I work him through his orgasm until the hands that were holding me against him begin gently pushing me away from his overly sensitive cock.
“I can confidently say that’s the bestwelcomeI’ve received yet,” he says with a smile, pulling me to my feet. “Now, just to clear the air, since we’ve skipped some steps. I’m negative. Was in a monogamous relationship for two years. Got tested when we broke up eighteen months ago. Haven’t been with anyone since.”
Following suit, I give a quick rundown of my life as well.
“Only ever had a few casual hookups. I’m on PrEP. Last date was six months ago and didn’t amount to anything more than a kiss.”
Before I can feel too awkward about that last part, Casey says, “Well, the guy must’ve been an idiot to let you get away with nothing more than that, and if it was your choice to not go farther, then I’m sure as fuck glad you’re comfortable enough to do more than just kiss me.” As if capitalizing on our situation, he leans down and kisses me deeply before speaking against my lips. “And if you’ll allow it, I want to spend the rest of the night hearing you scream my name and feeling your fingers dig into my flesh.”
At this point, my cock is pushing against my zipper so hard, I’m positive it’s leaving an imprint.
“I’m down with that plan. But you tasted so fucking good, I’m afraid I’m going to lose a nut if I don’t come soon,” I tell him, riding his thigh, seeking any kind of friction to ease this ache.
Wasting no more time, he gets my jeans just past my ass and wraps a firm hand around my shaft, squeezing as he pumps. Despite having no lube, the contact feels amazing.
And then he’s on his knees. Looking up at me through long lashes, he says, “I’ve got big plans for those, so let’s make sure they stay intact, hmm?”
And then my dick is enveloped in the warm heat of his mouth. It’s clear he’s done this a lot more than I have because Casey wastes no time suckingme down his throat. In two bobs of his head, his nose is flush with my pubic bone.
“FUCK!”I cry out in the barn, praying all the pumpkin-pickers are gone and no employees are lingering.
The slurping noises coming from this man push me even closer to the edge, and when he pulls off my dick and says, “Paint my throat, Mase. Fill me up, and quench my fucking thirst,” I explode. My entire body convulses as I come harder than I ever have in my life.
I’m positive he can’t breathe with how deep I am, and yet, he takes it all.
By the time my balls are empty, Casey pulls back and gasps, trying to fill his deprived lungs with oxygen.
“I’ve…never seen…anything so hot…in my entire fucking life,” I pant, just as breathless as he is.
“Just think,” Casey says with a grin, “we’re only getting started.” He stands and extends his hand once more, officially introducing himself a second time. “Name’s Casey Porter. Can I interest you in a drink?”
Smirking, I clasp his hand. “Mason Turnigan. You’ve got me interested in a helluva lot more than a drink, but we can certainly start there while I recover.”
As we right our clothes and exit the barn, Casey clasps my hand and leads me toward his four-wheeler.
