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“Oh fuuuuuck,” Braxton moans as he shudders in my arms, his orgasm hitting him all at once, and that’s all I need.
I explode with a gasp, my cock unloading in my boxers. We twitch and pant as our orgasms subside, and even when our bodies have cooled and our breathing has evened out, I don’t let him go. I just hold him against me, his head on my shoulder, his lips pressed against my throbbing pulse.
“That…it won’t happen again,” he says, but it doesn’t sound convincing.
“I’d sure like it if it did,” I admit and then sigh when he bites down on my skin lightly.
“You’re a real pervert, Jimbob,” he says with a small laugh, and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me.
“Seems I am. Like doing it outside with you with the animals watching.”
He leans back and looks down at me, his lips puffy, his cheeks a pretty pink.
“Seems so.”
We walk back with wet boxers and me missing a shirt. I’m pretty sure the goat ate it, and I don’t even care. That shirt is as good as gone, and it was totally worth it.
Now that I’m not as horny, I find that it is a bit cold on our trek back to the house, so I put on my flannel and button it up as best I can. Braxton is walking with the pig in his arms. A few minutes ago, Abra-ham got lazy and squealed at Braxton until he reluctantly picked him up.
He looks damn cute with the mini pig in his arms.
“Have you eaten dinner?” I ask, and Braxton shakes his head.
“No.”
“How ’bout I make you something? I have a fresh haul from the market, and I just went to the butcher this week.”
Braxton looks unsure, but he does finally agree to it. We put Polly and Billy back in their enclosures before making our way into my house, and I lead him to my bedroom, handing him a pair of pajama pants. They’ll be big on him, but it’s better than dry cum on boxers. That’s never fun.
He changes while I do and finds me a few minutes later in the kitchen.
I try not to stare, but I like him in my space, like him in my clothes. It’s silly because I barely know him and shouldn’t be having these kinds of feelings for someone I just met, but then again, I feel like I know him.
I felt him come while I held him in my arms. He was vulnerable with me. That has to mean something.
“I’m gonna grill some steaks and veggies out back. Wanna sit with me? I can start a fire for ya, if you want.”
“Sure,” he says, and then I reach into the fridge and grab a beer. “You want one?”
“I’m not…I’m not twenty-one yet, remember? But sure.”
He takes the beer from me and pops the top. “How old are you? Probably should know some things about you, now that we’ve…” His cheeks flush, and he glances away.
“Twenty-five,” I say and then shrug. “Maybe I am a pervert for going after someone so young.”
Braxton laughs and then takes a sip of the beer and sighs. “You are, it seems. Didn’t think it was possible until I saw it with my own eyes.”
Abra-ham squeals in agreement, and I sigh. I need to put him back in his pen or at least deliver him back to my dad’s, but then I might run into Ryan or Gramps who will make a fuss over Braxton being at my place and I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t want anything interrupting my time with him. Don’t want him spooked and running off again. And I don’t want to answer any of their questions. I know Ryan’s figured out I’m into guys, but I don’t want to have that conversation with Gramps or my dad.
I’m not in the mood. Not after earlier.
I just want to spend time with Braxton, just him and me. I want to revel in this.
Braxton bends down and scratches Abra-ham’s little pig ears, and Abra-ham lies down at his feet, almost belly up as Braxton continues to spoil him. And I try like hell not to stare for too long, but I can’t help it. Him being here in my place feels right in a way I can’t explain.
It’s almost like he belongs here with me.
I finally force my gaze away from him and gather everything I need, gesturing for him to follow me out back. It’s breezy as we make our way onto the porch. McMuffin is napping in her cat house, so I don’t need to worry about her at the moment, but Abra-ham trots out alongside us with noisy little grunts.
