Chapter 21
Yes,my mind cries as I rub my hand over the straining crotch of my jeans. Yes, yes, yes.
The underwear are jerked down, pulling Hank’s jeans with them, just enough to expose the pale white skin of his balls and upper thighs. One of Delfino’s hands slips between Hank’s legs to rub under his balls—the gesture makes him bleat, a series of tiny little sounds that tug at my growing erection and make me want to jerk off into the hay. I can only imagine what Delfino’s fingers are doing between Hank’s legs—fondling the back of his nut sack, maybe, or tickling along the stretch of his taint, or, God forbid, rimming his tight, puckered asshole…
Hastily I unzip my jeans and unbutton my briefs. My cock surges forth on its own, harder than its been in a long time. It butts against the smooth wooden wall of the stall and I press it down, between my spread knees, down against the sweet ache rushing along its length.
With my eye to the knothole, I watch Delfino take Hank’s long cock into his mouth, swallowing it down to the root. Jesus. Absently I begin to stroke myself, matching the rhythm Delfino sets—in as far as it will go, then slowly out again to the tip, then down in all the way once more. Languid movements, drawn out, exquisite. I picture those full lips around my dick, that hot mouth taking me in, and knead my erection as I watch. Delfino’s gaze is on Hank’s face, gauging his reaction to each lick. I see Delfino’s cheeks pull in, his Adam’s apple work, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like to be suckled like that, an orgasm milked up from the bottom of my feet through to the pounding, pulsing, throbbing bulb of my dick.
Hank’s hands are on his chest, tweaking his nipples. He leans back against the bales of hay, moaning softly. His hips thrust into Delfino every time the Mexican takes him in, forcing his cock deeper into Delfino’s throat. “Yes,” Hank murmurs, pinching his teats as he fucks into the willing mouth before him. “Yes, God, yes.”
Encouraged, Delfino places his hands on Hank’s hips, holding him back, and dives down again. I try to see if he’s as turned on by this as Hank is—as Iam—but the way he squats obscures his crotch from my view. My pace picks up, fingers massaging my dick as I follow the length down. I dare to pinch the tender cockhead and have to bite my lip to keep from crying out in ecstasy. God! I want to push my cock through the knothole, fuck into it, imagining it to be Delfino’s mouth around me instead. I fist my dick, jerk it hard, and picture Delfino’s sleepy bedroom eyes looking up at me, not Hank. Me
Suddenly Hank places his hand on Delfino’s forehead, stopping him in mid-stride. “Dame ese culo apretado,” he says as he pushes Delfino away.
My body thrills at the words. Give me that tight ass.Oh, God, I want to cry out. Take mine too!
Delfino turns and stands in one fluid motion. His pants fall to his knees before I even notice he’s unbuckled them. His underwear follows suit, and the veined, dusky cock that pokes from between his legs makes my mouth water. Why doesn’t Hank take that in his mouth first? If it were me, I’d be on my knees before Delfino, worshipping his thick length. It’s not as long as Hank’s, but it’s fat and promising, and my sphincter clenches in anticipation at the thought of taking it in me. It’s all I can do to keep from vaulting over the side of the stall, announcing my presence and joining in the excitement.
But Hank isn’t interested in Delfino’s fine cock. He wants the twin, firm cheeks curving out above Delfino’s dropped drawers. With both hands, he grabs Delfino’s ass, kneading the buttocks as he lifts and separates them. His cock rises as Delfino bends at the waist, hands gripping the nearby door of another stable, legs spreading apart. I’d love to see Hank bury his nose in Delfino’s ass, tongue licking inside the Mexican, making way for his dick, savoring every moment and drawing Delfino with him toward release.
Unfortunately, it’s apparent Hank’s only about his own pleasure here. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. With Delfino’s spit still slick on his dick, Hank guides his cock to the tight hole at Delfino’s center. “Say it,” he warns.
“Cogeme,” Delfino moans. “Cogeme duro,Mr. Hank. ?Si, si!”
I don’t follow all the Spanish, but I don’t need to—my body translates the meaning without knowing the words themselves. Fuck me, yes, yes.I spit into one hand and slather my dick with my own juices, then bite the meaty base of my thumb to keep quiet as I work my saliva into my erection.
My gaze is glued to the men in front of me, Delfino open wide, Hank angling inside. He works his way in slowly, Delfino’s breath coming in short, pained bursts until Hank is fully in. Then he lets out a chilling, ululating sound from deep in the back of his throat, a mix between a laugh and a war cry that raises the hair all along my arms and nape. “Más duro,” he gasps as Hank slowly begins to fuck into him. “Duro, rápido, rápido, ay si!”
My hand matches Hank’s rhythm, speeding up as he works at Delfino’s ass, faster, harder, as the Mexican goads him on. I stare at the place where the two men connect, where Hank’s cock sinks into Delfino, where they become one. I thrust into my palm, my breath hot and fast against the wooden slats before me, not daring to blink in case I miss anything. Delfino thrashes his head up and down, pushes his ass back against Hank; the barn fills with the sounds of sex, the slap of bodies, the moans of pleasure, the cries for more. Finally Hank seems to remember Delfino’s packing a cock full of jism, too—he reaches beneath the Mexican to grab the thick dick and pulls it as he pounds into Delfino’s backside.