Bonfire Heat and Barnyard Secrets
**All characters are over the age of 18**
A bonfire was lit as dinner was winding down, and the lamps and string lights were turned off. Laughter mixed with country music as the family reunion continued under the starry North Carolina sky. Jonathan nursed his third beer. It was cheap, but it served the purpose of creating a buzz without getting messy. The tension between Jonathan and his husband’s cousin Boone hadn’t faded with the sun. If anything, Boone’s gaze kept finding Jonathan’s as folks split up into small circles to socialize. Chet stood close to Jonathan, one had casually rested on the small of his back.
“You good, babe?” Chet whispered in Jonathan’s ear, his Southern drawl always comforting to his West Coast husband.
Chet’s hand traced upwards along Jonathan’s spine before kneading the taut muscles of his neck and shoulders. Jonathan could only nod in response, his green eyes locked on Boone across the fire. The rugged carpenter lounged with a beer in hand, his flannel unbuttoned to show off a mass of sweaty chest hair. As Boone lifted his beer to his lips, his bicep bulged, only adding to Jonathan’s desire for him. He craved those calloused hands ripping off his clothes and claiming Jonathan while Chet watched, cock in fist.
Boone caught Jonathan’s stare and held it, his full lips curling into a knowing smirk. Chet’s cousin was a macho straight type, but he recognized that Jonathan had been pining for him all night long. Boone stood, stretching his arms over head making his 6’5” frame even more gigantic. His shirt rose up enough to flash a trail of dark fur that vanished under jeans that hung low on his hips, the denim straining against a heavy bulge that made Jonathan’s mouth water. He sauntered around the bonfire to stand with the married couple, downing his beer in one big swallow.
“Hey cuz, you mind getting us another round? I’ve been on cooler duty all day and I think it’s someone else’s turn,” Boone urged with a grin, clapping his big hand on Chet’s shoulder to push him on his way.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don’t go corruptin’ my man while I’m gone, Boone,” Chet winked before giving Jonathan’s ass a rough squeeze and peeling away.
Left alone with his husband’s hunky cousin, Jonathan felt a surge of confidence likely inspired by his buzz. Jonathan could smell Boone’s sweat mixing with the woodsmoke, driving him wild. He turned towards the towering relative, heart pounding but determined. Jonathan licked his lips, trying to figure out exactly what to say.
“You know, Boone, you’ve been staring at me all night. Something on your mind, big guy?” Jonathan said, channeling his courtroom edge reserved for the toughest judges he faced at work.
“Me? Starin’ at you? You sure you got that right, city boy?” Boone’s smirk deepened, his thick drawl rumbling as he leaned in to nudge his shoulder against Jonathan’s. “Seems like it’s the other way around to me. Shouldn’t you be lockin’ those pretty eyes at your husband?”
“Trust me, Chet doesn’t mind in the slightest if I was checking out another guy,” Jonathan confessed, shoving back a touch harder, their thighs brushing together.
Boone’s laugh came out low and gravelly. Still, it was an easy rumble that vibrated through his broad chest. Boone paused, mulling over Jonathan's words with a furrowed brow.
“Is that so?” Boone murmured, his tone laced with curiosity. “You sayin’ Chet is alright with you eyein’ other fellas like that? I mean, what exactly you gettin’ at here? ‘Cause if you’re just jokin’ around, that’s one thing, but if there’s more to it...”
Boone’s voice trailed off, his blue eyes narrowing curiously as he searched Jonathan’s face looking for any sign of a joke or playfulness. His hand hovered near Jonathan’s arm, not quite touching, but close enough the heat from his skin seemed to prickle. Boone realized what his hand was doing and retracted it into his pocket. His thumb absently traced the seam of his own jeans as if pondering the words himself. Jonathan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Well, truthfully, it’s no joke. Chet’s cool with it all. In fact, even though he comes off possessive, he wants to see me bent over, taking a real man’s cock deep while he jerks off in the same room,” Jonathan explained innocently, as if he was merely describing the weather. Boone’s eyes bulged with shock. “He’s packing a good eight inches, but he’d lose his mind seeing me getting stretched even more, struggling on something bigger than he could ever provide.”
Boone’s massive frame tensed with every filthy word that escaped Jonathan’s lips. His face twisted into shock and disbelief, but down below his waist, his package swelled, a detail that Jonathan didn’t miss. Jonathan’s bold declaration lingered like hazy smoke, fueling the tension. Boone stayed dead silent, clueless on how to fire back with his usual snark.
“Oh, there’s my bonus son!” a warm, familiar voice called out, announcing the mother-in-law's presence. “Are you enjoying yourself, hun? I hope this big lug ain’t scaring you off.”
“Hi Mrs. Jackson. Everyone’s been fantastic,” Jonathan smiled innocently, though his eyes flickered to Boone’s straining bulge before settling back on her. “Even Boone.”
“Oh, I’m just so happy you’re here. And please, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Virginia, or mom...if it feels right,” Mrs. Jackson beamed before looking around with hands on her hips. “Say, where’s that husband of yours. I raised Chet better than to leave you all alone.”
“Don’t you fret, Aunt Ginny, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Boone reassured the older woman. “I was just thinkin’ ‘bout showin’ him that old barn I fixed up for gran. Chet said I was the best carpenter in the county, figure I should prove it.”
Virginia Jackson clasped both men by the forearm before heading off in the direction of someone calling her name. Boone cocked his head in a silent invitation to Jonathan, signaling him to follow. The pair casually broke away from the bonfire’s glow, walking wordlessly side-by-side. Jonathan struggled to keep up with Boone’s lengthy stride. Boone clamped a hand on Jonthan’s shoulder while slowing down, guiding him toward the shadowy silhouette of an old barn. From a distance, Chet watched as his husband slipped away into the dark with his older cousin.
Inside the barn, Boone located an electric lantern and turned it on, illuminating stacked hay bales and abandoned tools. He set the lantern on a stool before straddling a bench, patting the aged wood. Jonathan emulated him, sitting face-to-face. Boone rummaged in his pocket and pulled out an old silver flask, taking a swig before passing it to Jonathan.
Jonathan took a long pull, coughing at the burn of the strong bourbon. He passed it back, watching Boone’s Adam’s apple bob as he swigged deep before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The silence stretched, but without tension now that the two were alone. Jonathan, however, couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Boone...from the second I saw you out there earlier, shaking hands like you owned the place, I’ve been imagining this,” Jonathan admitted, his hands gesturing around at the near empty space. “You and me, slipping away. Your hands on me. My mouth on your...”
Boone froze, the flask midway to his lips, blue eyes widening in the dim light. He wasn’t shocked this time, but there was a flicker of something that tried to break through his straight-laced mask. His chest heaved, and Jonathan saw the telltale twitch at his crotch, his bulge threatening to burst open those Wranglers.
“Boy, you got no idea what you’re stirrin’ up,” Boone growled with a hint of anger, his hand coming to the back of Jonathan’s head. Jonathan leaned in to kiss his husband’s straight cousin, but the man lowered his face. “I ain’t...I ain’t ever done something like this, with a dude that is.”
Jonathan reached forward with a hand that threatened to tremble and softly lifted Boone’s chin, so their eyes met. Boone set the flask down onto the bench as Jonathan stood up and took a step forward. Their height difference was clear as the top of Boone’s blonde head was nearly level with Jonathan’s face, even as he remained sitting. Just as Jonathan leaned in again to attempt that kiss he so desperately wanted, Boone rose quickly, wrapping Jonathan in his big, strong workman’s arm.
The action sent the bench tumbling, but Boone easily stepped over it carrying Jonathan with him. Their lips crashed together with Boone’s tongue forcing its way into Jonathan’s mouth, probing, curious, pioneering. The grind came next. Boone’s hips rolled forward, that length of iron in his jeans pushing against Jonathan’s crotch. Jonathan’s own cock throbbed in response. Wrapped in each other’s arms, making out aggressively, the two didn’t even notice when Chet slipped into the barn and climbed a ladder with soft steps up to the shadowed loft.
“I wanna...I need to see it,” Jonathan gasped when Boone finally set him down again, his face feeling chafed from Boone’s stubble.
Boone’s control truly shattered with Jonathan’s voiced desire. He yanked at Jonathan’s shirt, buttons popping free to expose pale skin flushed from heat and liquor. He tugged at Jonathan’s pants, pulling them and his underwear down to his ankles. Jonathan kicked off his loafers and then the pants and stood in front of his husband’s cousin completely bare. Jonathan’s six-inch cock was rock hard, curving upwards towards his belly button. He stood there proud and unashamed, thrilled to show off his tight, toned body that his personal trainer husband had helped to create over the last three years.
“Reckon those lawyer hands of yours ain’t ever handled something this big before,” Boone smirked as if already imagining it and looking down proudly at his equipment.
“Show me,” Jonathan whispered, his voice husky with lust.
Boone’s flannel hit the dusty floor, revealing a torso matted with thick dark hair that trailed down to his waist. He fumbled with his belt but wrested it free from his jeans before pulling at the zipper. His Wranglers pooled at his boots, unleashing the beast that had been growing all evening. He seemed almost shy, but there was no denying that between his furry legs dangled a veiny, throbbing shaft, nearly as thick as Jonathan’s wrist, so heavy, that even completely hard it pointed downwards to the floor.
Jonathan dropped to the dirty floorboards without a word, hay pricking his knees and shins, but he didn’t care. He wrapped both hands around Boone’s impressive girth, stroking the silky skin over the steely rod. Jonathan’s thumb circled the slit, smearing the precum that was already dribbling out. Boone groaned, a deep rumble from his chest, one hand tangling in Jonathan’s well-kept brown hair to guide him forward. Boone may never have done this with a man, but he certainly knew what he wanted.
Jonathan’s lips parted, taking the head in, swirling his tongue around it to taste his salty emission. He pushed deeper while his jaw cracked wide, gagging when Boone’s thickness hit the back of his throat but refusing to pull back. Jonathan had mastered deepthroating his husband’s eight inches, but he came a few inches short of doing so with Chet’s cousin. He must’ve been at least nine and a half, maybe ten inches! And so much thicker. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he determined to taste every inch. He bobbed his head to work spit up and down Boone’s shaft, slurping noisily, saliva dripping to coat Boone’s heavy balls.
Up in the loft, Chet watched as his husband greedily swallowed his cousin’s massive tool. Truthfully, he’d wanted something like this to happen ever since he and Jonathan became monogamous. And yes, last night he’d told his husband he wanted to watch him get fucked. But this was different. This was his family. He felt betrayed. He felt jealous. He felt so fucking turned on. His hand gripped a ceiling beam so tightly he could feel splinters stabbing his palm. His other hand freed his own impressive cock, than hand pumping slow and deliberate, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his husband worshipping another man’s cock.
Even as Chet wrestled with his jealousy, there was arousal burning inside him. That’s my husband, he thought, his breath hitching as he stroked faster, and his eyes locked on the way Jonathan’s throat bulged with each swallow. Turned on didn’t cover it. He was rock-hard and leaking pre-cum over his knuckles. A low growl escaped him, fingers tightening on his shaft. He wanted to storm down, claim Jonathan as rightfully his, but the thrill of watching his slim frame submit to Boone kept him rooted in place.
“Fuckin’ hell, city boy, that mouth’s a goddamn sin,” Boone rasped, his hips bucking shallowing to fuck Jonathan’s face. Jonathan’s hands kneaded Boone’s hair thighs, nails digging in as he willed himself to take more of Boone’s donkey dick. His nose finally pushed into the bushy mass at the base of his shaft, cocking on the sheer size but chasing the high like a drug addict.
“Chet sure has a good thing at home with this mouth of yours,” Boone gasped, holding Jonathan’s head down on his dick until his cocksucker’s body started wracking with gags.
Chet’s internal war raged, especially with his cousin’s words and the way he was so forceful with his husband. That didn’t stop him from inching closer to the edge of the loft for a better view. Distant shouts could be heard outside the barn – family voices calling out for stragglers, the bonfire winding down. Both Chet and Boone looked in that direction, a combined sense of worry and urgency settling into the air.
Jonathan pulled back, gasping for air, strings of spit connecting his wet, puffy lips to Boone’s slick shaft. The pair below scrambled for their clothes, realizing how serious it would be if someone stumbled in to find them. Chet vanished like smoke before they could spot him. Boone clapped Jonathan’s shoulder as they finished dressing, Jonathan fussing with his shirt that would barely close with so many ripped buttons. Boone didn’t wait for him to finish and headed for the door.
“You’re hear for what, three more days?” Boone asked with mild interest, answered by Jonathan’s hasty nod. “Good. This ain’t over, boy.”
As Jonathan slipped back into the night to look for his husband, his jaw ached with the memory of Boone’s fat hog. He smiled to himself despite now knowing how to explain his disappearance, disheveled hair, and his ripped dirty clothes. He was smart though and was used to coming up with answers on the fly. Instead, his mind reeled with cravings for more of this Southern stud while Chet trailed behind, silent and seething with a potent mix of lust and envy.
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