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-DurtyRiter
The Man with the Jeep
Chapter 68
John took in the view and appreciated Brady anew.
Even without his classic western clothing, Brady managed to convey old time sensibilities.
His hair was parted severely on one side and then combed straight back with some kind of oil that made it shine. It wasn't enough to erase the curls completely, but they were reduced to strict waves over his head. He was clean shaven except for longer sideburns and a glorious mustache that curled up on the ends into points.
His pale skin betrayed his habit of wearing long-sleeved collared shirts and trousers almost exclusively. In fact, only his hands and face had any color at all, leaving the rest of his skin an almost ceramic-looking alabaster. The contrast was all the more stark due to the darkness of the room and the black leather stand behind him.
A sparse patch of dark hair between his small undefined pecs narrowed to lead down in a relatively thin trail to an unruly profusion of pubes. It looked as if they had never been trimmed, though John knew better, as he had made Brady shave hairless several times in the past.
Brady clearly had no interest in working out or building muscle, but he was active enough that there wasn't much flab either. He was trim without looking like he had to work at it, which was exactly the case.
John walked right up to where the blindfolded Brady was kneeling and with one hand, pulled his face directly into his crotch.
Out of habit, Brady automatically opened his mouth with the action, and once he realized John was still fully clothed, he started gnawing on the growing tool behind the heavy denim.
John groaned a deep growl of satisfaction with the primal attack on his manhood.
Once he was fully hard, his trousers became too constricting and uncomfortable to continue, so he put both of his hands on Brady's ears and pushed him back a bit.
"Open me up!" John demanded.
Still without a word, Brady's hands flew to John's heavy belt buckle, undid the clasp, and with the deft action of experience, yanked the belt out of every loop with a loud snap before it went sailing off into the darkness behind him.
He opened the row of buttons in John's fly quickly and methodically one by one until they were all free, again without any of the fumbling of those who aren't used to doing exactly this.
He fished his hands inside the jeans and around John's ass before carefully peeling them downward until the waistband met the top of John's boots.
John smirked as he saw Brady breathe in the heady smell of his crotch and lick his lips in appreciation and anticipation of what was to come.
"Breathe it in!" he barked at Brady.
Brady's sharp nose instantly bunched up John's boxers in the valley between his balls and his leg as he inhaled so deeply that John could feel a breeze between his legs. It was clear that manly smells were Brady's kryptonite as he continued to nuzzle below John's balls and draw in as much as he could.
All the activity underneath had John's cock straining at full mast inside his shorts, and it was a relief when it finally found its way out through the fly while Brady continued his delving. It didn't take long before John had a steady stream of pre-cum drooling down onto Brady's neck and shoulders, the lone light bulb making it shine as bright as liquid silver.
"Drop my shorts!"
Brady instantly did as ordered and gave a single slow lick across John's dickhead before returning to his mission of drinking in John's smells.
Now that his boxers were down, John could feel Brady's mustache brushing and tickling against his skin as he worked. He must use the same oil on his whiskers as he did on his head, because his 'burns and 'stache felt smooth and soft rather than sandpaper rough as he was otherwise used to.
He could feel Brady had unthinkingly grasped the back of John's thighs to pull his face in closer, but John didn't rebuke him this time. It was gratifying to have someone who clearly appreciated him.
John was leaking even more now as his swollen red rod throbbed with excitement. Despite the veritable river of pre-cum running down his back by this time, Brady had not even slowed his onslaught, but John was ready for a change of pace.
Again, he cupped Brady's head in his hands and drew him back. This time, though, John held him right at the end of his raging hard on and teased his lips with the tip of his drooling head.
At first, Brady opened wide, but when that hefty meat wasn't instantly shoved down his throat, he realized what his Master wanted. His mouth closed considerably as his tongue stretched out and began to lick John's head clean from all the man syrup it was producing. It quickly became clear that it was generating way more than usual, and in no time, Brady was lapping it up like a dog with peanut butter.
His efforts did not go unnoticed. John was washed away with the sensations of Brady's wide and furious tongue action. He glanced down to see that his cock was like purple iron.
It was time.
John suddenly reached down and grabbed Brady by the straps of his bulldog harness and yanked him to his feet.
Brady's lips were glistening with John's pre-cum and wore the clear expression of jubilant expectancy.
John roughly turned him around and pushed his shoulders forward and down. Brady quickly caught himself on the stand behind him with his arms and braced himself for what he knew was coming. John used his thumbs to pry apart Brady's surprisingly hairy ass cheeks and verified that he had dutifully already lubed himself up. Good boy.
Not being able to help himself, John slid his big thick shlong up and down Brady's crack, teasing him with its heft, its heat, and its hardness. He could see Brady's behind quivering with anticipation of what was next as his pre-cum was blended into the lube at Brady's back door.
After one final swipe, John pointed his pecker at the winking rosebud before him, swatted Brady's ass stingingly hard, and then thrust all the way in with one merciless yet smooth stroke.
Brady's loud cry was echoed throughout the empty chamber before it turned to a whimper. By the third stroke, the whimper was replaced with groans.
Yeah, John thought, Brady needed this as much as he did. But he wasn't in the mood for groans.
He ratcheted up his intensity by three steps instantly and nearly shoved Brady off his feet from behind. John drilled him with such ferocity that he kept getting moved forward until it wasn't his hands or arms resting on the stand in front of him, but his waist. If it wasn't for the thing being literally bolted to the ground, it would have been pushed off the stage as well.
John was an animal tonight.
Brady had graduated to grunts and gasps from this next-level pounding. A lesser man wouldn't have been able to handle it, but John had trained him for this from a very long time ago when they were both much younger. They had a special bond, and it showed.
John could feel Brady starting to work his ass muscles, milking the big invader inside him despite the power and speed with which it was being wielded. Good boy. He knew what needed to be done.
John knew his stroker was doing a number on Brady's prostate too, because it always did. Brady loved it and could never hold out as long as John did. Sure enough, Brady suddenly tightened up, froze in place, and John could feel him cumming through his ass.
He didn't even slow down. He continued to pummel Brady with an intensity that even surprised himself.
It wasn't too long after that before John felt the rise coming.
"Take it, boy!" he roared.
And then it hit like a freight train. He could feel himself shooting harder than he had in a long time. It was a good thing he had Brady's clenching ass to receive it, because he was sure someone would lose an eye otherwise.
He kept pumping and pumping jolt after jolt into Brady as deep as he could, knowing that even Brady's talented bottom probably couldn't take it all.
He was right, and splooge leaked out around the edges during the final few spurts. He didn't care though. Not a bit.
When he finally decided to stop sawing into Brady, he slowly pulled out. Brady's raw hole was duly stretched and took a minute to contract again, so more of John's load leaked out onto his half-softened cock before it finally drew closed.
John grabbed the back of Brady's harness and pulled him back upright before surprisingly gently pushing him back down onto his knees. Brady's mouth automatically opened again when John pulled him toward his cum-coated cock. This time, it went right in as expected, and Brady began to lick and suck it clean.
Once Brady was properly occupied again, John reached down and removed his blindfold.
Brady kept his eyes closed at first, but gradually re-acclimated himself to the light and gazed up at his cousin as he cleaned his tool. When he was finished, he pulled back and inspected John's pecker thoroughly to make sure it was spotless. He had done a good job on his dick, but found the overflowing load had gotten on his balls too, so he obligingly licked those clean as well.
When he finally decided he had done a good job, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at John for further instructions.
"Roll me up again so I can walk," John told him.
Brady dutifully pulled John's boxers back up around his waist (giving his cock head another kiss before hiding it away), and then unrolled John's jeans back up and re-buttoned the fly closed. Satisfied, John fished into his pocket to find his phone, where he swiped and tapped a bit until the main lights of the cavernous old barn began to fade on as old-school incandescent industrial lights do.
With cum trails still trickling down the inside of his legs, Brady immediately moved to the other side of the bolted bench to find John's belt. Once he found it, he came back and started to kneel in front of John before John stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"It's shower time now."
John walked off the stage and headed toward the dressing room.
Brady followed him, carefully grabbing his neat stack of clothes from the stage. He also snagged a few towels from the linen closet right inside the door of the changing room along the way.
John sat on one of the benches and after quickly spreading one of the towels out, Brady sat right down on it at John's feet and began to work on getting his boots off.
With that accomplished, John stood up again and Brady proceeded to undress him once again, but this time completely.
Brady led his liege to the shower room and walked directly to the shower head in the middle and turned on the spray. When he was satisfied with the temperature, he stepped back with a sweeping gesture to invite John to step in.
John moved under the water to get himself completely wet before stepping out of the spray.
Brady was ready with the soap and a nice lather already worked up, and proceeded to rub and scrub John clean from forehead to toes.
John moved back under the spray, where Brady followed him to rub and rinse off the shampoo and soap. When he was finished, he moved to turn off the water before John stopped him.
"Thank you, Brady," said John. "I release you."
"Thank you, Sir," Brady replied promptly, completing the context.
Brady turned on the shower next to John's before turning back to him.
"What's going on?" he asked. "You haven't pounded me like that in forever."
"I know. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."
"I know," it was Brady's turn to say. "But it's all good. I've missed that," he said, nodding to John's middle.
John chuckled.
"Thanks."
"So what has you so upset?"
John warred with himself while Brady washed his hair next to him, fighting between his pride and his more recent learning that talking can help work things out when you can't figure them out in your head. He finally decided he needed to come clean with someone and Brady was reliable and tight-lipped (hah!) without charging several hundred dollars an hour like his therapist did.
"It's about Andrew," he began. "I feel like he's cheating on me."
Brady stopped cold for a moment with the water streaming down his face and body and just stared at him agape for a moment.
"And your solution is to cheat on him? With me?" he asked incredulously. "And since when did you do closed relationships?"
"I know, I know: I'm a terrible person," John answered dismally. "The worst part is we aren't even in a closed relationship. In fact, I've been trying to push him to be open to playing with others this whole time."
"Okay," Brady said slowly. "Now you've really lost me."
"I know. It's just so stupid," John admitted. "You know how we grew up..."
"Yeah."
"Well, he didn't grow up that way. Not even close. When we started dating, he would feel guilty for noticing another guy at all and beat himself up about it. I've had to work hard to get him to the point where it's okay to appreciate and even acknowledge when other people are hot. That doesn't mean he has to sleep with them, and it doesn't mean he's cheating on me to have a fleeting thought. I've told him I don't care if he even does, because that's what I'm used to--as long as he comes back to me."
"But now you do?"
"Yeah, I guess I do," John replied. "But I shouldn't. Not at all. And I never have before either. What's my problem?"
"Okay, why don't you back up a second. How is he cheating if you're in an open relationship?"
"Well, he's played with two people that I know of, and he's never mentioned a thing to me about them."
"Are those the rules?"
"Of course!"
"Does he know that?"
"Of course heÑ-oh, wait. Now that you mention it, I guess we've never actually said it out loud. But he has to know! That's like Open Relationship 101!"
"I thought you said he wasn't used to open relationships," Brady pointed out.
"He's not used to any relationships, really. I think he's only had like three boyfriends before, and they were all short-term idiots."
"But were any of them open?" Brady asked insistently.
"Now that you mention it, I'm fairly certain they weren't," John admitted.
"Then why are you holding him to the fire for doing something you've been trying to get him to do?"
"I know," groaned John miserably.
"You really can't blame him for playing around if you've been egging him on to do just that," Brady said assertively. "Now, if you're upset about him keeping secrets from you, maybe you should go over the ground rules so you'll at least know you're on the same page."
It was like the clouds parted and the sun broke through. "You're absolutely right," John said, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. "Thank you, Brady."
"My pleasure, cousin," Brady replied. "After that fucking you just gave me, you deserve anything I can offer."
"I don't know about that," John chuckled. "But it was fun to play again."
"Yeah, it was. So don't leave me hanging so long next time!"
"Deal! But our talk has me curious. How do you and your wife navigate this stuff? I've never asked."
"No, you haven't," Brady laughed. "It's not super proper even in our family, is it?" he asked with a mischievous smirk.
"No, Gram, I guess it isn't," John replied sardonically.
"I'm just teasing you," Brady answered. "As for us, I've told her how I grew up. She's not comfortable with it and I don't pressure her to try, but I think she'd rather imagine it's all in the past and not know the details. I think she has suspicions about you and me, but is afraid to ask."
"Why would she suspect me?"
"Because most of the time you call, I drop everything to see you."
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
"Don't worry about it. Like I said, she never brings it up. If she does, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, SIR!" Brady said with a wink, so John couldn't blame him for it. "Though you know I'll cut you off in her favor if she needs me to. Besides, I already gave up playing with other women the day I got married and you are the only guy I play with."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," Brady assured him. "This may come as a bit of a shock to you, but I am fairly traditional in most ways."
"What? You?" said John with mock surprise.
"Exactly."
John thought about his conversation with Brady all the way back home, and was reminded of how grateful he was to have him in his family. He was more grounded than most of them, and usually had a way of reducing complex situations down to very simple terms that were easier to handle.
John was actually looking forward to having lunch with Andrew tomorrow and getting everything hashed out so they could move on.
As soon as he got back to his loft, he texted Andrew to confirm lunch tomorrow. It wasn't until Andrew didn't respond after a while that he realized it was past one o'clock in the morning and Andrew probably wouldn't see it until he got up for work.
Sigh.
Then he realized that he was just as tired as he was excited and crawled into bed to stare at the stars until he fell asleep.
Thanks for reading my tale! I know this chapter doesn't have one of my characteristic hooks at the end, but rest assured the story isn't finished yet!
If you'd like me to let you know when a new chapter goes up, just send me a message and I will keep you posted. Thanks again for reading, and I hope you have great day!
DurtyRiter@protonmail.com