Eight Second Ride – A Gay Erotica Story
Could he stick out any more like a sore thumb? With the amount of people staring at him, he’d expected to look down and see a frilly pink dress stretched obscenely over his torso and hips with a pair of stiletto heels on his feet, but he was only wearing his usual pressed black slacks and white button down. Maybe he should have worn that red flannel he had shoved into the back of his closet. At least he’d match ninety percent of the people here if that were the case. His work clothes were a dead giveaway that he didn’t belong here.
Ignoring the incredulous stares, Robert looked out amongst the sea of flannel and plaid for a familiar black cowboy hat with a well-cared for peacock feather sticking out from a gaudy purple hatband. The ridiculous head gear wasn’t anywhere to be found though, so he huffed out an irritated breath and leaned back against the trailer behind him. If his other half didn’t show up anytime soon, as in the next ten seconds, he was going to leave. The dust covering every inch of this place not only coated his normally pristine clothes, but he could feel a fine layer of it on his skin and in his nostrils. And the smell! Ugh! Fried food and beer with an underlying scent of manure. How appetizing… He thought with a grimace.
There was a sudden, sharp whistle from behind him and then a gravelly, southern drawl hollered, “Well lookie here! Didn’t think my man was gonna make it!” The voice sent a shiver down his spine that pooled in a tight, hot coil low in his abdomen.
Robert slowly turned to look over his shoulder at the burly man sauntering towards him dressed in plaid and leading a beastly black horse behind him. He was grinning from ear to ear, a bit of five o’clock shadow that bordered on a full blown beard nearly hiding the expression, and he could see little tufts of dark, sweat matted hair peeking out from beneath the cowboy hat. And there it was. That goofy looking peacock feather that matched those sparkling green of his eyes. Ah, he was even wearing his matching belt! The same obnoxious purple as his hatband. It really didn’t go with the silver and gold of his trophy belt buckle…
“Of course I came,” Robert stated. “I’d never miss such a big tournament. Especially one where my cowboy Casanova wins.” The corners of his lips tilted up. “Although, I wish they’d tone your trophy’s down just a bit,” he muttered as he glanced down at the oversized belt buckle. Grayson barked out a laugh, and reached out to hook a finger in his belt loop and jerk him closer. With a huff, Robert slammed against his chest, and the smell of dust, leather and sweat bombarded his senses.
“Always so serious, darlin’.” Grayson pressed the tip of his nose against his temple and slowly drug it down his cheek to his neck, inhaling as he went.
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that, Gray,” he grumbled half heartedly. He’d never admit that the pet name made his heart stutter and his blood warm. Although, the look that his cowboy was giving him from under his brows told him he knew.
There was a breathy snicker from over Gray’s shoulder, and they both looked to find accusing black eyes staring down at them. “Sorry, are we neglectin’ you?!” Gray cooed as he pressed a sloppy kiss to his horse’s white nose. “Let’s get ya to the trailer.” He directed the horse with his shoulder to start making his way up the ramp of the trailer Robert had been leaning against. “Come on!” he instructed, smacking Robert’s ass before dancing forward so he couldn’t retaliate with a hit of his own.
Cursing quietly under his breath, Robert ignored the urge to rub out the stinging sensation under his skin and followed along behind his other half. He watched unabashedly as Gray walked ahead of him, his mouth filling with saliva at the drool worthy ass filling those wrangler jeans.
That heat in his stomach increased tenfold, and his step faltered when the heat poured into his cock. He groaned, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and Gray peeked over his shoulder with that cocky, know-it-all look that drove him up a wall. Robert returned the look with one of his own. He wasn’t the only one sporting a hard on if Gray’s gait as he went up the ramp was anything to go by. Robert stopped at the edge of the ramp to watch the muscles ripple and bulge under Gray’s shirt as he tied the horse’s lead to a rail, and began to remove the saddle. He bent forward to drop the saddle in the crate behind the horse and grab the bag of feed, and Robert couldn’t help but trace the curve of his ass with hungry eyes. The beautiful sight easily lured him up the ramp, and just when he was about to grab a hand full, Gray turned with a smirk and skirted around him.
He sighed, the sound rather unhappy, as he listened to the sound of the ramp closing behind him. The ramp snapped closed with a dull thud, and the trailer was suddenly bathed in darkness. The only light was from the single open window at the head of the trailer, and all he could see was the snowy white nose of the horse, the rest of the creature blending seamlessly into the shadows.
“Didn’t think I’d let ya take the reins after a win, did ya darlin’?” Gray huskily whispered in his ear.
Robert jumped, startled, and made to pull away, but a hand on his hip stopped him. “You’re not serious, are you? In here?” His voice came out a little too high for his liking, so he cleared his throat. He’d at least expected his cowboy to have the decency to fuck in the truck. Which was parked where no one would be able to hear or see them.
A dark chuckle sent a shock through his system and caused goosebumps to raise up on his arms and legs. “Are ya really gonna say no?” The hand on his hips shifted forward and palmed the bulge in his slacks. He sucked in a sharp breath, his cock twitching and pressing against his pants to try and get closer to the heat of Gray’s skin. “That’s what I thought.” Robert was suddenly swung around, and his front was pressed into the cold metal of the ramp. Fingers dug into the sides of his shirt, and he hissed out a harsh ‘Grayson’ when his shirt was ripped open and tugged down so his arms were trapped against his sides. His hips were pulled backwards, and he had to catch himself as much as he was able to with the tips of his fingers and the left side of his face.
“Damn it, Grayson!” he snapped, trying to glower over his shoulder.
“Oh hush up,” he growled, nipping at his earlobe. “Ya love it.” Robert wanted to grumble out a denial, but he felt it useless to lie. He absolutely loved it.
Those grabby fingers moved back down to his pants, so that they could work off his belt and pop open the button and zipper. His pants and boxers were jerked down over his hips and thighs and left to pool around his ankles. He felt and heard Gray drop to his knees before his ass cheeks were roughly spread apart and a warm, wet tongue was pressed into his heat. “Fuck!” he cried, jerking at the contact.
Gray growled, smacking both cheeks at once as he continued to tongue fuck him. His cock throbbed with each stab of his tongue, and he couldn’t help pressing his hips back each time it drew back. When his legs began to tremble and he was on the verge of begging, Gray pushed up and away from him. Robert heard the jingle of that ridiculously large belt buckle being removed, and the sound of a zipper being drawn down before the only sound was that of the horse munching away on his feed and his own panting breaths.
He waited patiently for the touch of his lover to return with bated breath, and when it did, he was rewarded with the blunt head of Gray’s cock against him. “Yes…” he hissed. A rough, calloused hand held his hip in a bruising grip as the cock slowly pressed in, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head at the slight burn. Their hips rocked back and forth in unison until Gray was firmly sunk into the hilt, his balls pressed against his in the most delicious of ways. Robert seemed to lose track of time in the haze of pleasure that came with the incessant pounding of his lover’s hips. The heat in his stomach began to boil, and that euphoric numbness began to build at the base of his cock. It coiled tighter and tighter, to the point of pain, when it suddenly snapped, and that tingling numbness spread throughout his veins like electricity.
“Gray!” he moaned, his body jerking with the force of his release.
There was an answering moan from behind him, and then blunt teeth sunk into his bare shoulder as warm, sweat slicked hips were slammed into his ass cheeks. They were both still for a moment, their breathing heavy and the cock inside him twitched with each breath as they came down from their high.
“Beautiful,” Gray rumbled as he soothed his bite mark with gentle kisses. Robert wanted to snort at Gray’s simple observation and a loud, wet snort echoed throughout the trailer, but it hadn’t come from him. He glanced over his shoulder and around Gray to find a pair of dark eyes glittering in the low light, staring at them unblinkingly.
“Please tell me he wasn’t watching this entire time?” he asked quietly, his breath hitching once when Gray slipped out of him.
Gray laughed softly and grinned at him suggestively. “You know Roscoe loves a good show!” “That’s disgusting Gray!” he said with a roll of his eyes. “And I still wish you’d named him something other than Roscoe,” he added as an afterthought. Roscoe gave a soft snort of agreement.
His lover ignored his jab, and instead responded with, “Ya didn’t seem all that bothered while we were goin’ at it. In fact,” he stepped forward so they were nose to nose as he palmed his already hardening cock, “Ya seemed to rather enjoy the ride.”
Robert scoffed, the sound a little too breathless for his liking. “At least make this ride,” he whispered softly against Gray’s lips, “longer than eight seconds.”
Ivy Wynter is an aspiring novelist who also enjoys a myriad of other things from designing lingerie to photography. She’s had previous stories published with Volonte, and hopes that everyone enjoys her present and future work.