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“Hey, not so fast. Don’t I even rate aHi?”
Butch snorted. “You wanna talk about the weather? The price of beef? Politics? Because while I can guarantee they might get my thoughts away from the pressing problem in my jeans, we could just skip to the chase and let me shoot a load.”
“Where are you?”
“In the barn.”
“Whichbarn?”
“The old one, where I kissed you.”
Sol chuckled. “And blew my mind. Okay… take your jeans off.”
“I don’t need to do that. I could just push ’em down a bit and—”
“Take. Them. Off.”
Butch pushed out a sigh of sheer impatience. “Fine.” He put the phone on top of a hay bale.
“Wait!” Sol’s voice burst from the phone.
Butch grabbed it. “Now what?”
“Turn the camera on. I want to watch.”
That made him laugh. “Oh, so you want me to be a stripper?” He clicked on the camera and held the flashlight under his chin, making a noise like a wailing ghost.
Sol laughed his ass off. “You jerk.”
“Shouldn’t that be ‘you jerkoff’? Like, now?” He propped the phone against the hay bale, then set the flashlight down next to it, aimed at him. “Okay. Can you see me?” Sol was sitting on his bed again, only his head and bare shoulders visible.
“Perfectly. Now, slowly… Take ’em off.”
Butch popped the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper.
“Oh Lord.” Sol’s voice cracked.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Absolutely nothing. You’ve gone commando.”
Despite his aching dick and balls, Butch managed a smile. “You like that?”
“I love it! Who doesn’t like easy access?”
Butch stared at Sol’s face as he slid his hand into his jeans, his breathing quickening when his fingers touched warm, hard flesh.
Sol’s low gasp was a delight. “You fucking tease.”
“Says you, who’ve been teasing me all week. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?” He let go of his dick and went about the task of removing his boots and jeans. Once that was done, he put the boots back on. His cock pointed toward the phone, bobbing stiffly.
“Now the shirt. Open it. I wanna see that chest.”
Butch didn’t break eye contact as he freed each button, working his way down. He pulled the shirt flaps aside, his heart hammering. Sol was once again pushing him out of his comfort zone, and it was heady as fuck.
“Okay… nice and slow… pull on your dick.”
Butch’s breathing hitched. “Not sure I can do slow. Sol, I… I need to come.”
