Calvin’s Cowboy (10 page)

“I…not here.”

Calvin didn’t understand.

“When we…I did you in the bathroom, it was…” Brock ground to a halt.

“You want to do it in the bathroom?”

“No!” Brock said loudly, then bit his lip. Calvin had to admit Brock looked totally adorable doing that.

“Okay, no problem.” Calvin got to his feet; resigning himself to the idea that he wouldn’t be blowing the cowboy today or maybe any day.

“I…It wasn’t what I wanted.”

“You didn’t want to blow me in the bathroom?” Calvin touched Brock’s cheek.

“No…yes.”

Calvin stroked Brock’s face, hoping to comfort him. This close his beauty was irrefutable. The laughter lines radiating from Brock’s eyes just served—in Calvin’s opinion—to enhance the man’s appeal.

Brock leaned into Calvin’s caress. “Shit! I’ve fucked this up.”

Calvin gently moved Brock’s head until it rested on Calvin’s shoulder. The resumption of the close contact revealed to Calvin that the man had gone soft. And thinking about it, so had Calvin.

Stroking Brock’s back, Calvin whispered, “No you haven’t. It’s all good. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

“Thanks.” Brock let out a breath that tickled along Calvin’s neck, causing him to shudder.

“You don’t understand.”

“I’m listening.” Calvin continued to rub Brock’s back.

“When we were at the hospital I wanted to thank you…let you know how much I appreciated you standing up for me, for doing something to help me.”

“Uh huh.” Calvin wanted to say more, but sensed Brock needed to get out whatever it was that was troubling him.

“But that place, the bathroom, it wasn’t…” Brock swallowed.  “Wasn’t the right place…it reminded me of hook ups, anonymous, you know?”

The penny was teetering on the edge of dropping. “Tell me.”

Calvin risked a kiss to Brock’s ear. Brock shuddered and buried his head deeper into Calvin’s shoulder.

“Not proud of doin’ stuff like that, but when it got too much I…” Brock stopped talking and just clung to Calvin.

“It’s okay. Trust me, I understand. It’s okay.” Then Calvin got an idea. “Will you let me take you to the bedroom, if that’s more…” Calvin searched for the right word. “Appropriate?”

Calvin felt Brock nod in agreement. So, before the guy could change his mind, Calvin took hold of Brock’s hand and led the unresisting cowboy down the hallway.

Once through the bedroom door, Calvin asked, “Want me to close the drapes?”

Brock nodded again, but didn’t immediately let go of Calvin to allow him to accomplish the task.

“It’s all good,” Calvin soothed, rubbing the man’s wide, powerful back.

Brock let out a long steady breath and slowly disengaged. “Sorry. I don’t—”

Calvin silenced him with a tender kiss. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, you hear?”

Brock treated Calvin to the ghost of a smile before leaning down and giving Calvin a closed-mouth kiss. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now for those drapes.”

Calvin walked to the window and pulled them across. Despite the reduced light, he had no difficulty in seeing Brock still standing where he’d left him, now biting his lip. It was rapidly becoming a favorite image for Calvin.

“Come on then, Gar…Beautiful.”

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“I didn’t think so either until you stood on my doorstep a couple of evenings ago.”

Brock took hold of Calvin’s chin. “Please, don’t tease me, not about this.”

Calvin removed the hand and kissed Brock’s palm. “I promise, hand on heart,” he moved Brock’s hand to Calvin’s heart, “and on dick,” he moved the hand lower, “that I’m not joking. You are beautiful. Please believe me. That’s why I’ve been calling you Gary Cooper, because, well,” Calvin felt embarrassed, “I couldn’t straight out call you beautiful because you might have knocked me on my ass.”

“Nah, your ass is way too cute.”

“I knew you’d noticed it!” Calvin yelled in triumph.

Back was the shit-eating grin Calvin loved so much. He just had to kiss it.

“What was that for?” Brock asked.

“Just that you were smiling, and I like to see it. Makes you even more beautiful.”

Brock shook his head. “I wish you’d quit it with the beautiful shit.”

“You want me to go back to callin’ you Gary Cooper? ’Cause it’ll mean the same thing.”

Brock sighed, but his smile was back.

“So, Beautiful, you gonna let me at that big ole Texas dick of yours?”

“You’ll not leave me alone until I let you.”

“Nope.” Now it was Calvin’s turn to wear a shit-eating grin.

Brock reached for his belt buckle.

“No you don’t.” Calvin batted away Brock’s hands. “My bedroom, my rules.”

“Thought this was your folks’ room.”

“Don’t split hairs.” Calvin surprised himself at how quickly he was able to undo the large western buckle. No doubt it was the thought of what lay ahead.

The waistband was unbuttoned, then the zipper lowered. Calvin wondered how Brock had managed to squeeze his slight paunch into such a narrow band. Peeling the black jeans down Brock’s powerful thighs, Calvin soon discovered a problem. Brock’s cowboy boots. While he looked sexy in them, they would have to come off in order to remove the jeans. Maybe he could persuade Brock to put them back on again when he’d undressed him. Nah, that’d be too kinky, as would asking Brock to wear his hat while Calvin sucked him.

“Um, you’re gonna have to take off these boots.” Calvin said on his knees, looking up at Brock’s amused expression.

“Me? I thought this was your room, and therefore your rules?”

“Bastard.”

Brock just smirked down at him.

Fuck, he looks so sexy,
Calvin thought, getting back to his feet.

Calvin gave Brock a quick kiss before grabbing hold of him and lowering him to the airbed.

“Hey!” Brock protested.

“Quit your bitchin’. It’s the only way I could think of to get these boots off you without you falling ass over teakettle.”

Calvin moved to the foot of the bed, bent down and grabbed the instep of Brock’s boot and began to tug. It didn’t budge.

“How the hell do you get these things off? And I don’t want to hear about how it’s not your problem.”

“Turn around and pick up a boot between your legs.”

Calvin did as asked.

“Now pull on the heel. I’ll use my other boot to apply counter pressure to that gorgeous ass of yours.”

Calvin wasn’t sure about this, but was game to try anything once. The sensation of Brock’s booted foot on his ass wasn’t bad; in fact, it was kinda nice. The boot slipped off relatively easily. Then Calvin had the pleasure of Brock’s naked foot (the sock having come off with the boot) rubbing on his ass while Calvin pulled off the other boot.

“There,” Calvin said, setting the second boot on the floor next to its mate. “God, what do you do when you don’t have the services of a sexy boot puller-offer?”

Brock raised an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest; I guess you could be described as sexy.”

“Fuck off.”

Brock smirked. “But to answer your question, I use a bootjack. Got one in the truck as a matter of fact.”

“What?” Calvin spluttered. “You mean you had me going through all that when you’ve got some gadget that will do it?”

“That’s about the size of it, yeah.” Brock’s shit-eating grin was the only thing that saved him from a punch. “I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to lick my boots. I hear tell some guys get off on that shit.”

Calvin’s dick twitched, but it only took him a nanosecond to decide it wasn’t for him. “Nah, there’s something else I’d much rather lick.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

Calvin took a hold of the hems of Brock’s jeans and began to pull. Brock helped by lifting his ass. Calvin tossed the jeans aside and took a moment to drink in Brock’s awesome legs.

“Do you want this off, too?” Brock raised the hem of his sleeveless tee.

“Nah, leave it on. Makes your arms look really big and sexy.”

“Not beautiful?”

“Yeah, that too.” Calvin was distracted by Brock’s amazing legs. Getting on hands and knees, he crawled up the airbed as far as Brock’s crotch.

“Under here is what I’m gonna lick.” Calvin took a hold of the waistband of Brock’s boxers. “Grey? Why not black to go with everything else?”

Brock shrugged. “Didn’t think anyone would see ‘em.”

“Well you thought wrong, Mr. Color Uncoordinated.”

“Sorry, I’ll do better next time.”

Calvin raised an eyebrow. “And who says I’ll want to blow you a second time?”

“If you don’t get on with it I’ll probably die of old age before you do it the first time.”

“Touché,” Calvin conceded and began to pull down Brock’s underwear. “Fuck!” Once Calvin got a look at what Brock was packing, he privately determined there certainly would be a next time. Many of them. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a dick.”

“Yes, but—”

Calvin left Brock’s boxers halfway down the man’s legs because he just had to touch the work of art in front of him. The penis was just the right length, proportionate to its thickness. The thing was totally straight along its shaft, widening slightly at the head, a head that was covered in foreskin. Calvin hadn’t handled that many uncut dicks before. The skin was slightly darker than the rest of Brock; a network of fine veins crisscrossed the shaft and…

“You gonna suck it or just gawk at it?” Brock’s impatient question cut through Calvin’s musings.

“In a minute. God, Brock, this just proves it. You are beautiful.”

Brock sighed. “Oh, brother!”

Calvin retracted—then pushed back—Brock’s foreskin. It was such a neat trick he did it a couple more times. Brock’s cock dribbled out a pearl of pre-seminal fluid that Calvin caught on his tongue. It didn’t really taste of anything much, but Calvin enjoyed it nevertheless; it was part of Brock, and now it was part of him. He then laved the head, trying to get the tip of his tongue into the pee slit, then between the extra skin and Brock’s cock-head. Brock started moaning and shuffling around on the air mattress, so Calvin knew he was doing it right.

Using broad strokes Calvin laved up one side of Brock’s sex and down the other. Although this didn’t elicit any extra noises from Brock, Calvin quite enjoyed it, so did it again. Then Calvin decided he’d go on a taste tour of Brock’s equipment. There was a definite increase in flavor in the crease between Brock’s legs and his torso. The taste grew even more as Calvin licked at the ball sack. Then he realized Brock’s scrotum was hairless.
Wow, the cowboy shaves his balls does he?
Looking up, Calvin saw Brock also trimmed his blond pubic bush. Calvin approved.

“You gonna suck me or what?” Brock rumbled.

“Or what.”

Calvin dove lower to explore Brock’s taint. Back came the groans, even the odd “Jesus” was thrown in as well. However, Calvin couldn’t gain clear access because the movement of Brock’s legs was impeded by his boxers, which were still at his knees.

“Back in a second, BBD,” Calvin said, kissing the tip of Brock’s penis.

“BBD?”

Pulling the boxers off and tossing them across the room, Calvin said, “Brock’s Beautiful Dick.”

Brock shook his head, but made no actual comment.

Now Calvin had full access to Brock’s secret places and took full advantage. Easing Brock’s legs wider apart Calvin stuck out his tongue and began to lick along the top of Brock’s ass crack.

“Hell!” Brock grunted, bending his knees.

You ain’t felt nothin’ yet,
Calvin thought, taking his explorations deeper. Brock started to whimper and shake. Calvin brought forth more spit and used it to push against Brock’s rosebud.

“Oh, Christ…oh, Christ.” Brock panted. “Don’t stop…don’t ever stop.”

No intentions of, buddy,
Calvin thought, pushing his tongue as far into Brock’s chute as he could.

Brock raised his legs and held them under his bent knees.

Calvin spent a long time sucking, licking and kissing Brock’s anal opening. He’d never considered himself an ass man before, but Brock had him rapidly changing his mind. Calvin knew Brock had had other lovers, but he was determined this would be a blowjob the cowboy wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

Mouth growing tired, Calvin reluctantly disengaged, making Brock moan in protest. Looking up, he saw Brock’s right leg was hanging in free space while his right hand was pumping at his dick.

“No, that’s mine!” Calvin pried Brock’s fingers away from the now slippery member.

“Gotta come.”

“Oh, you will, cowboy, have no fear of that. But I’ve not finished torturing you first.”

“Shit!” Brock threw his head back onto the pillow and groaned.

Calvin took hold of Brock’s right leg, and, with agonizing slowness, began to lick and kiss his way up the underside of it. Brock had amazing quads. It had to be all the baseball and laboring he did. The muscles felt so hard Calvin decided to bite lightly at them. Brock whimpered and threw his head from side-to-side.

Calvin had no idea the area behind the knee could be such an erogenous zone, but Brock’s whimpers and wails increased in volume the moment Calvin made contact with it.

Deciding he’d wrung all the pleasure he could from that region of Brock’s body, Calvin moved along. The man had awesome calf muscles. As this area didn’t seem to illicit any strong reaction, he laid a trail of angel kisses to Brock’s ankle. Never really having given ankles much thought before, Calvin spent a few moments studying Brock’s. Like the rest of the man the joint seemed strong and solid. Then came Brock’s foot. One swipe across the sole had the man almost leaping off the bed.

“Like that, eh?”

Calvin kissed his way toward Brock’s toes. He popped the little toe into his mouth, ran his tongue around it, then licked the space between Brock’s little toe and the next one. In a kind of slalom pattern Calvin licked the underside of one toe, moved into the space between toes, and washed the topside of the next toe. Reaching the end, he swirled his tongue around and started back in the opposite direction.

“Shit, man! I gotta come.”