Midnight Service
**All characters are over the age of 18**
Jonathan slunk back towards the farmhouse, hugging the edges of the yard to dodge any nosy relatives who might grill him about his disheveled state. The taste of Boone’s salty shaft lingered on his tongue, making him feel a combination of desire and guilt. He was disappointed that Boone had cut off mid-thrust, removing his dick from Jonathan’s willing mouth. Boone had dressed with surprising speed for a man his size, muttering about family interruptions and vanishing without a trace.
His shirt hung half-untucked and mostly open as so many of the buttons had been popped off when Boone had roughly torn it open. A tickle at his ear made him realize he’d gotten some hay stuck in his hair, which he quickly discarded. Passing the bonfire, he used what light it provided to scan the area for Chet. No sign of his husband. Panic prickled his skin. Thanks to one of Chet’s aunts, however, he knew which guest room had been assigned to them. He headed there, pulse racing and sweating from the humid night air.
He managed to slip inside unseen and made his way up to the third floor. The air inside the guestroom was stale and muggy. A single bare bulb dangling from the low, slanted ceiling was all there was for light. Jonathan stripped off his jeans and used his ruined shirt to mop the sweat off himself. He retrieved his phone from his pocket. Jonathan hoped there would be some message from Chet, but no dice. He shot off a quick message, asking his husband where he was and that he’d found his way to their room for the night. Anxiety gnawed at him. Did Chet know what happened? This cuckold game was technically all his husband’s idea – Jonathan had just gotten the ball rolling sooner than expected.
Twenty minutes later, the door banged open, making Jonathan jump as he paced back and forth in his pre-cum stained briefs. Chet stormed in, the taller man needing to nearly crouch due to the low ceiling but even hunched over, he dominated the room. His polo was soaked with sweat, clinging to his abs. His dirty blonde hair looked more mussed than before, but his piercing blue eyes focused intently on Jonathan. He turned to slam the door shut, but just before it could crash into the doorframe, he stopped and let it close with a soft click.
“What the fuck was that, Jonathan? Blowing my cousin in the goddamn barn without a word to me? Right under everybody’s noses?!” Chet accused his husband, his normally charming twang tinged with anger. Jonathan was stunned to silence, his face burning with shame. “I saw it all. How fast your dropped to your knees. Your pretty lips wrapped around his fat cock. Swallowing his hog like you were desperate for it.”
“Chet, babe, I—I'm sorry, it just happened. I kept thinking about you telling me your fantasy, how you’d watch me take another man’s load... And yes, I started flirting with the first dick that seemed available and got carried away. Please don’t —” Jonathan’s voice cracked, visions of their marriage crumbling with every word he spoke.
The slim lawyer backed up against the wall, hands up in surrender, chest heaving. Chet advanced on his trembling husband, planting his left hand on the wall beside Jonathan’s head, towering over him. Chet closed the gap until their hips collided. Chet laughed, bitter and rough. His right hand shot up, gripping Jonathan’s throat tightly enough he could feel his throat convulse as Jonathan gulped nervously. Chet’s thumb lifted Jonathan’s chin until those green eyes he’d fallen in love with met his own icy-blue state.
“Please don’t what? Kick your ass to the curb? You think I’m walkin' away? Hell no. Watchin’ you choke on my cousin’s dick... it pissed me off, yeah. Shit, I can even smell him on you. But, fuck, baby, it lit me up inside. Seein’ my husband act like a desperate who for that straight-ass hick? Made my dick throb harder than ever,” Chet grumbled, his tone softening with every word.
Chet’s fingers eased off Jonathan’s throat and then dropped to palm the bulge through his shorts, rubbing the outline of his thick 8-inch rod. His anger had melted into raw hunger and need. He rolled his hips, grinding his bulge against Jonathan’s slow and deliberate. Jonathan’s briefs grew tighter in the front as his 6-inch shaft swelled against the thin fabric. Chet leaned in closer, dragging his tongue up Jonathan’s smooth jawline, his breath hot on his skin.
“You owe me now,” He rasped into Jonathan’s ear. “Get on your knees and remind me who you really belong to.”
Relief flooded Jonathan, and he obediently sank down to the floor. His knees, scraped from the barn floor, felt irritated on the rough carpet. He reached up tentatively, but Chet’s silent insistence made him tug at Chet’s shorts. He yanked harder to work the shorts over Chet’s swollen bug, but finally his thick 8-inch cock was freed. Veined and rigid, the head flushed purple. His smooth, low-hanging balls swayed enticingly, heavy with cum. The familiar scent hit him. Jonathan breathed in deeply, taking in the masculine musk that was entirely Chet. He leaned in, burying his nose in that space where his balls met his taint to inhale his husband’s essence like live-saving oxygen. He even rubbed his face against Chet’s sack, marking himself with his husband’s scent.
“What the fuck you waitin’ for, you greedy little cock-slut?” Chet snapped, slapping his girthy shaft against Jonathan’s flushed cheeks.
Jonathan’s lips parted, allowing Chet’s dick to glide across his lips and tongue. Jonathan savored the taste of his husband as every inch disappeared down his throat. Chet groaned, hips jerking forward, his massive hand guiding Jonathan to take him deeper. Jonathan’s hand shot into his soiled underwear, fisting his cock as worked to deepthroat the cock that owned him.
“That’s it, bitch, blow me like you did Boone, but better. Deeper, c’mon, I know you can take every inch,” Chet growled, bracing one shoulder against the wall, pinning Jonathan’s head in place. No escape now. It was choke or be conquered.
Trapped with the wall at his back, Jonathan couldn’t pull off to breathe. Instead, he simply had to yield as Chet rolled his hips, pushing past the resistance at the back of Jonathan’s mouth. Jonathan gagged softly, and saliva spilled over his chin, dripping on Chet’s balls. Jonathan needed both hands clamped on the trainer’s chiseled quads. When he thought we couldn’t breathe, he pushed Chet’s thighs and dug his nails into his skin, but Chet was relentless. Jonathan overcame the discomfort and managed to relax his throat, taking in the last inch of his husband’s meat with his nose mashed into Chet’s wiry pubes.
“Fuck yeah, there's my perfect throat-slut,” Chet groaned, reaching down to hold Jonathan’s head with both hands like a vice. His husband’s mouth was just a dripping hole for him to use.
Jonathan held steady and surrendered completely, allowing his husband to use his mouth like a fleshlight. He was slobbering and slurping, making a sloppy mess with his spit, but he was in heaven. He wriggled his briefs off one-handed, kicking them aside. His own cock bobbed and twitched, oozing clear strands onto his pale thigh, completely aroused by his husband assaulting his throat.
Jonathan moaned around the oral intrusion, the vibrations from his vocal cords teasing Chet’s shaft. The room filled with wet slurps and Chet’s ragged breaths. Jonathan’s head banged against the wall whenever Chet lost control with thrusting his hips a bit too aggressively. Chet grabbed his polo with both hands, pulling it off over his head, sweat dripping down his chest and abs. The trainer’s knees started to buckle like he was squatting a new personal record, but nothing would stop his climax.
“Gonna cum for you. Swallow it all, baby. Prove you’re still my slut,” Chet gasped as he held Jonathan’s head down on his groin.
Thick, hot spurts of jizz erupted in Jonathan’s mouth, flooding his throat. To Jonathan, it felt endless, but he gulped greedily, tongue swirling to coax out more. Chet shot over a dozen ropes of his seed down Jonathan’s gullet before finally pulling back, panting. For good measure, one last rope spattered Jonathan’s lips. Chet hauled him up for a fierce kiss, tasting himself on Jonathan’s tongue before collapsing on the bed still panting.
“Damn, that hit the spot. Go clean yourself up, you look like hell. And get some shut-eye, we got a full day tomorrow,” Chet sighed before rolling over onto his stomach, broach back rising and falling with even breaths, snoring within minutes.
Luckily for Jonathan, the third floor had its own bathroom, and they were the only two staying there. He turned on the shower to something lukewarm, a temperature hot enough to wash away his earlier sins but not cold enough to shock his senses. Still, his body and mind were buzzing as he replayed the scene from the barn in his head. Boone’s cock had throbbed in his throat, so close to release, but denied at the last second. After drying off, he lay in bed past midnight, but sleep wouldn’t come. Quietly, he slipped into a fresh pair of gym shorts and a tank top, padding downstairs and out the back door into the cooling night.
The bonfire had dwindled to smoky embers with orange flickers rising into the air. Jonathan found he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. At one of the picnic tables, Boone sat alone, a half-empty beer in his large mitt. The 6’5” carpenter was in the same clothes as earlier. His sleeveless flannel, damp with sweat, was unbuttoned to expose his hairy chest. Barefoot, his thick legs spread wide in those worn jeans that hugged the bulge Jonathan craved. As Jonathan approached, Boone’s blue eyes lifted, surprise flashing before settling into wariness.
“City boy. Thought you’d be tucked in with your man after...earlier,” Boone drawled, his voice husky with fatigue and desire.
“Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about...earlier,” Jonathan admitted, planting himself onto the bench opposite but uneasy in the event Boone regretted everything.
“Oh? Anything specific?” Boone perked up, his eyes never leaving Jonathan’s and his muscles tightening as memories of Jonathan’s hot mouth flashed in his mind.
“Well, yeah. I mean, that gorgeous cock of yours. Fuck, I can’t get it out of my head. You left me hanging, Boone. You never gave me my reward,” Jonathan whispered, reaching across the table, his hand grazing Boone’s hairy forearm. Feeling bold in the dark, Jonathan circled around and knelt in front of Boone, his hands resting on the stud's thighs. “Let me finish what we started.”
“Ain’t right, sneakin’ around like this. Chet’s family, for Christ’s sake,” Boone sighed, but his voice lacked conviction. His eyes dropped to Jonathan’s mouth, vividly remembering his talents. Jonathan wasn’t deterred. His hands slid higher and felt the heat growing as he closed in on his bulge before cupping the growing hardness through the worn denim.
“No one’s watching. Everyone’s gone or fast asleep. Just a quick finish. Your balls must be aching from earlier,” Jonathan pressed, eagerness approaching desperation as his fingers traced the denim seam, feeling Boone’s cock pulse with urgency.
Boone groaned low, shifting to let Jonathan’s fingers work down his zipper, freeing his girthy 9-inch monster. Jonathan’s knees planted in the dirt as he took Boone’s shaft into his mouth without any further invitation. His husband’s cousin was only half hard, but Jonathan’s tongue deftly coaxed him to full erection. The more Boone’s cock grew, the more Jonathan’s jaw widened to accommodate him. Boone stood up, looming over his cocksucker and grabbing a fistful of his hair. Boone’s hips bucked instinctively as Jonathan’s throat stretched around him.
“Shit, boy, your mouth is fuckin’ incredible. Deeper, you pussy, take it all,” Boone’s drawl turned filthy, his restraint completely shattering. Boone’s hands palmed the back of Jonathan’s head, force-feeding him inch by inch, his balls drawing tight. Jonathan gagged and struggled, but the earlier blowjob given to his husband was almost like a warmup. His throat finally relaxed and at last he was swallowing every inch of Boone’s hetero-dick.
Upstairs, unseen, Chet stirred at the window. He’d awoken to piss, finding himself alone in bed upon return. Drawn by instinct, he checked out the window, his cock hardening again at the sight of his husband on his knees for his cousin, nostrils flaring from effort as Boone grunted and groaned.
Chet’s hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking slow at first, jealously twisting with lust as he watched Jonathan’s cheeks bulge, saliva shining on Boone’s hairy balls. His cousin sat back down on the picnic bench, allowing Jonathan to bob his head up and down furiously. Jonathan used both hands in a twisting motion, servicing Boone with a combined blowjob and handjob.
“Gonna blow, fuck, ah fuck, take it city boy!” Boone cussed before his entire body tensed.
Boone flooded Jonathan’s mouth, providing the cocksucker the reward he’d been craving. Boone pulled out halfway through his orgasm, his cock still pulsing while Jonathan stroked him to completion, milking out every drop. Jonathan ended up covered in cum: his cheeks painted, jizz dribbling from his lips, spunk splattering the front of his shirt. Boone slumped back, chest heaving, his spent cock twitching against Jonathan’s cum-smeared chin.
“Never imagined gettin’ off from a guy,” Boone leaned in close, his voice a low rumble. “Fuck, you’re a natural. Covered in my hot mess like that, that’s something I could get used to. Good thing my cousin’s the sharin’ type. You tell Chet thanks for loaning that mouth of yours, and tell ‘im I’m comin’ for seconds. With a mouth like that, I’ll bet you can take a good proper pounding. Shit, he can even watch. Show him how to fuck like a real man.”
From the shadows above, Chet’s breath fogged on the glass. He desperately wished to know what his cousin was whispering in Jonathan’s ear but seeing his husband drenched in family seed sent Chet over the edge. Chet came for the second time that night, launching his load against the glass. He loved watching Jonathan submit to his butch cousin, but he would never erase the image of his husband’s blissful face dripping cum and shining with adoration for Boone.
“Yeah?” Jonathan rasped, voice vice from the viscous deepthroating he’d just endured, wiping a dribble of Boone’s load from his lips with the back of his hand. He leaned forward, nuzzling against Boone’s softening shaft. “You want this mouth again? Or you finally gonna bend me over this table and show me what that big country cock can really do?”
“You drained be good, for tonight, city boy,” Boone growled, cupping Jonathan’s chin. “Tomorrow, maybe. Tomorrow I’m gonna split you wide open, leave you begging for more.”
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