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I lower my ass back down onto the seat and am instantly poked.
Thane’s just horny too. He’s getting better and needs to hook up with a willing guy to get the sexual frustration out of his system.
Is there someone who exchanges blowjobs with him? Or someone who he bends over and…
“We should head back!” Thane shouts.
“Why?” I ask, even as I make the turn around a few oak trees to start back in that direction. When he doesn’t give me a response, I try to come up with my own explanation. “Is your side hurting?” I ask him.
He chuckles. “No. Something else is.”
“What?” I ask before I realize what he meant.
His cock is long and hard, in need of some relief.
Is he gonna jerk himself off when he gets back to the guest room? Pull his dick out and stroke it in his hand? The thought of seeing another guy’s dick shouldn’t make me hot, like actually sweaty and warm all over, but it does. I’ve felt it, seen the shape through a thin towel. I know he’s well-endowed.
I just want to see it, though. Not touch it or anything.
It’s just, thinking about him touching himself brings up fantasies of him shoving his hand down my pants while he was patting me down, giving my cock a squeeze, cupping my balls…
We’re back to the house before I even blink.
I park the four-wheeler in the garage and turn it off.
“Thanks for the ride,” Thane says. His big hand is suddenly on my waist. I hold my breath, thinking he’s going to move it lower.
He doesn’t. He just needed something to balance himself on when he climbs off the back. He makes a noticeable grunt like he’s in pain.
I can’t help but look back to see if he’s grabbing his crotch or his side. It’s his side.
“You okay?” I ask. Thane lifts the hem of his tee, showing me the bloody gauze. Shouldn’t he have stopped bleeding by now? It’s been like a week.
“It’s fine. Probably just time to change the bandage.”
Since he makes it sound like it’s not a big deal, I try to let it go. I also let my gaze lower to the noticeable bulge of his fly.
My mouth waters at the sight, which is the stupidest reaction.
“Gotta take care of that too,” Thane says as he grabs himself without any shame. “Night.”
“Night,” I repeat as I sit on the four-wheeler and watch him walk to the garage door that leads back inside the house.
I do feel shame when I unzip my jeans as soon as the door closes. I’m not proud of myself for having to jerk off in the garage, on the four-wheeler, but I can’t take another second. I have to do something before I go ask the asshole to let me watch him masturbate.
Licking my hand for a little moisture, I close my eyes and stroke root to tip, faster and faster.
I picture boobs in my mind. Lots of big ones. Women in tiny bikini tops that don’t cover anything but nipples. Nipples I like to lick and touch. I think about doing that, just licking nipples that are smaller and not part of a pair of huge tits but a smooth, tattoo-covered chest. I bite down on one, and he groans.
He.Shit.
But it’s too late to stop this runaway train. In my head, I’m on top of him, teasing him, making him squirm before my mouth finds his again.
With a loud groan, I start coming in my hand. I didn’t even make it to the part of the fantasy when I straddle his face.
When it’s all over and my balls are empty, I don’t feel any relief.
I hate myself for giving in and promise myself it won’t happen again.
