Sergeant Bull : Part 10

To his surprise, not half an hour after swearing off such things forever, Bull found that he was. He suddenly wanted the local boy more than any cunt. “Yep.”

Jamey straightened rigidly, making his cock bounce some more. “I could kick your ass, dude, for trying to get sweet on me.”

“You could try,” Bull reminded him. He cracked his knuckles for effect. “Or your could kiss it. One choice gets you a black eye and blue balls. Another gets us both something real good.”

Jamey focused on Bull’s impressive boner and licked his lips. “I – I ain’t like that.”

“Like what?” Reaching over, Bull wrapped the fingers of one hand around Jamey’s prong. The younger man moaned out a swear, pushed into Bull’s grasp, and stretched to the tops of his toes. “You like that?”

With a guilty, horny scowl on his face, Jamey nodded. “Yeah, dude. I like it. Like it a lot!”

Bull felt something warm and wet ooze between his forefinger and thumb. Looking down, he noticed fresh precome was already leaking from the mushroom-shaped head of the local boy’s dick. “Gimme your hand,” he ordered.

Reluctantly, Jamey complied. Bull guided it into the warmth between his legs and half-closed his eyes once the young Texan’s palm rubbed against the sensitive ridge lining the underside of his dick. Jamey’s hand was rough and inexperienced, two things that soon had Bull matching him with a flood of precome, drop for drop. “There,” he grumbled. “Now we’re even.”

Jamey gave Bull’s cock a tentative squeeze, then began stroking it with the same skill he no doubt used on his own tool. “‘Kay, now what?”

“Now,” Bull sighed, letting go of Jamey’s boner to zip up his pants. “We find ourselves someplace private and take care of these cocks. Follow me.”

Bull started toward his Harley, but a few steps later, Jamey’s voice sent him into an about-face. “Only one problem,” the younger man said. “My ride took off with that little whore ten minutes ago.”

“Hop on,” Bull smiled. Jamey mounted the Harley behind him and gripped Bull’s waist, and together, they set off in search of some relief.

“Pool’s closed,” snapped the sour-faced old man behind the counter. He scrawled a few notes on the bill and handed Bull back his credit card and the key to the room. Never once did he look up.

“Whatever,” Bull growled. He pocketed his stuff and walked out of the air-conditioned office into the oppressive darkness outside. The moment the door shut behind him and the old fart returned to his cable TV, Bull peeled off his T-shirt and strutted over to the fenced-in pool where Jamey waited.

“Dude, you sure-?”

Bull surveyed the pool in the remote corner of the parking lot. The interstate droned on to one side of the horizon behind a wall of locust trees. “Yeah,” he said. Gripping the back of Jamey’s T-shirt, he yanked the tails out of his pants. “I’m fuckin’ burning up.”

Jamey took things from there, and soon, like Bull, had bared a hairy, sculpted chest. Climbing the fence wasn’t much of a hurtle; chain link fences in Georgia, North Carolina, Kuwait, and North Africa hadn’t stopped him and seven feet of it in Texas wasn’t about to either. Bull scaled the fence and dropped to his boots on the other side. Proving himself a capable match, Jamey followed.

Bull quickly shucked off the rest of his clothes – boots and socks, fatigues, leaving him clad only in his dog tags and a pair of gray midlength underwear. Jamey nervously looked around before stripping down to his well-stuffed white briefs. “Sweet,” Bull sighed before cannon-balling into the cool, dark water. When he broke the surface feeling refreshed and ready for action, he saw that Jamey had plunked his ass on the concrete lip of the pool. His big, bare feet and hairy legs were wet up to the calves.

“Come on in,” Bull said. A dumb grin on his handsome face, Jamey eased into the water and Bull’s waiting arms.

Almost a month had passed since the night he’d fled San Diego. Feeling the rough scratch of Jamey’s arms, legs, and chest against his own restored memories Bull had tried to bury, memories of Oscar De La Santos and all the things that might have been for the two of them.

Fuck that, he thought to himself, leaning closer. In the darkness, Jamey’s hot mouth and nervous eyes were the only things he wanted now. Fuck everything that came before this. I’m living for tonight…

With the sound of traffic and cicadas droning in the distance, he bridged the remaining distance through the shadows and met Jamey’s trembling lips. The younger man tried to pull away, but Bull held him close, so close their cocks met like their mouths, one crushed into the other. After a few throaty slurps, Jamey ceased fighting and kissed back just as hard.

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