Interracial Romance: Gay Romance: Bound By His Own Desires (MMM Endowed Black Men Bondage Threesome Romance) (A Billionaire's Freedom Book 3)

by Dayna, Bethany

  ****

  aye hadn’t really expected to like the young man who she and Carson had driven 1200 miles to meet. After all, the business that brought them together wasn’t exactly pleasant: Brant had lived with Carson’s cousin Mike on Los Gallos Ranch for the last ten years, and they had considered themselves married even though the law didn’t. When Mike was killed in a motorcycle accident, Carson was the legal next-of-kin to inherit the ranch. Technically, Carson could take the ranch and kick Brant out, though neither he nor Faye wanted that. They had planned to stay only as long as it took to negotiate the sale of the ranch, and then return home.

  But Faye hadn’t thought Colorado would be so beautiful, so freeing. And certainly the last thing she’d expected to feel a tingling spark of attraction for Brant - who was, for all sorts of reasons, out of bounds.

  Brant had the rugged good looks of a young man who spent most of his life outdoors. His compact muscles rippled under his burnt-tan skin, and his straw-colored hair stuck out at different angles whenever he ran his hands through it, which he often did. His Wranglers hugged his slender hips and the curve of his ass, and in front was an incredible bulge that made Faye’s eyes widen. She was so distracted by the size of the package straining under the worn denim that she nearly missed the introduction Carson was making: “Yes, hello, I’m Faye, nice to meet you.” She shook Brant’s hand while looking into his eyes to avoid staring at his crotch, and saw that they were green and kind. Only when the two men began talking did she eye Brant’s bulge again. It looks like he’s got a pair of socks stuffed down there, she thought, and then wondered passingly if he had an erection. Probably not; probably he did stuff socks in his pants. Cocks of that length and girth didn’t happen along too often, as Faye was well aware. But then she shook herself, realizing that this was no way to think about her fiancé’s late cousin’s lover.

  Brant didn’t seem to want to talk much. After offering them dinner and showing them to the guest room, he left them alone. Faye felt bad for Brant and wanted to comfort him somehow, especially when she saw the grief and loneliness behind those green eyes.

  As they were getting ready for bed, Carson asked, “So what do you think?”

  “Hm?” Faye said, brushing her hair.

  “Do you like it out here? Would you live here?” He came over to her and kissed the top of her head.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It definitely wouldn’t feel right, just taking it away from Brant like that.” Secretly she did like the idea of staying out here, away from the dullness and monotony of their regular life together in the suburbs. But it was impossible for so many reasons…..

  Carson moved his hands from Faye’s shoulders down to her breasts and squeezed them gently through her nightgown. “All that driving makes me horny,” he murmured into her ear. She smiled to see the thick bulge growing out from the crotch of his boxers. His was by far the biggest cock she’d ever had, and she loved to feel it thrusting into her from above and behind, loved riding it cowgirl-style until they both collapsed in melting ecstasy. It had taken a long time for her to be able to take Carson’s enormous length and girth into her small, tight pussy, and even now she was still practicing taking it all the way down her throat. She turned to free the monster from the loose fabric covering it, and the cucumber-sized erection stood pulsing and eager for her. She lay back on the bed and parted her thighs to take it into her, gasping as always at the brief shock of being stretched wide by his spear of flesh.

  Except it was the same as it always was. It wasn’t that they didn’t satisfy each other, but Faye often felt as though she were the one who ended up doing most of the work. He had a magnificent tool, to be sure, but more often than not he simply eased it into her after a few minutes of sucking and nibbling at her nipples. The fleshy head of penis, as big as an apricot, pushed past the slick lips of her pussy into the silky passage within. He worked his hips back and forth, and Faye rose to meet his rhythm, concentrating on her own orgasm. After a few minutes the wave of warm pleasure washed over her gently, the same way it always did. It was good, it was very good…though Faye had never really felt herself let go with Carson, or any man. She wondered if she ever would…or could.

  And Carson seemed distracted, unable to be able to finish. After several more minutes of thrusting (which she thoroughly enjoyed, reaching a second, smaller orgasm that made her feel almost guilty for her own pleasure), he rolled off her and sighed. “Sorry, I guess I’m just tired. All that driving,” he said.

  “It’s ok,” she said. This happened sometimes, as it did to every guy. Even when he did climax, bucking and crying out in full release, he usually kept his eyes clamped shut. Faye wondered what he was thinking of at such times. She felt there were still things about him she didn’t know.

  A few minutes later Carson put on sweatpants and a t-shirt, grabbed his cigarettes, and stepped into his shoes. “I probably just need some air,” he told her.

  “Mmmmmm,” Faye said, already half-asleep. But a few minutes after he’d gone, she sat up, thinking of how to fill the emptiness inside her.

  *****

  The night was warm, and Carson sat on the steps of the porch that wrapped around the ranch house, looking up at the sky as he smoked. God, there were so many stars; you felt like you could see forever out here. He snuffed the butt of his cigarette in the gravel and lit another, then heard the squeak and slam of a door. A moment later Brant came around the corner, also in a t-shirt, holding a fifth of whiskey. He started at the sight of Carson; neither had expected to run into anyone out here. Then Carson asked, “Smoke?”

  “Thanks.” Brant took one from him and sat down on the first step, his back against the rail.

  “Beautiful out here, isn’t it?” Carson asked, trying to make conversation. What was he supposed to say to this guy who had shared the ranch and his life with Mike, working together, sleeping together, in every way living as a couple? Carson didn’t really know anyone who was gay; he’d gotten Christmas cards from Mike, but that was about it. He didn’t have anything against gay guys, of course, and it was shitty the way the legal system treated them. If Brant were a woman, the ranch wouldn’t need to have a new owner. But there was nothing feminine about Brant; he was all man, from the way his jaw clenched his cigarette to the enormous curled sausage in the crotch of his jeans (which Faye had definitely been looking at). Carson supposed he didn’t blame her. And Mike hadn’t been a dope; he’d picked a good-looking guy who seemed pretty cool overall. And with what looked like a huge cock.

  Through all this Brant had stayed silent. Now he said, “Sorry. Was just thinking.” He took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled it through lips that looked sun-chapped and rough. For some reason Carson had a flash of wondering what it would feel like to kiss them, then wondered why the hell he was thinking a thing like that. “I’m gonna miss it out here.”

  They both sat in an awkward silence. “Well, that’s why I’m out here. Why Faye and I are in Colorado, I mean. We were thinking about asking if you’d be willing to…work something out.” God, it sounded terrible to offer to sell a guy his own home back to him after it had been stolen, but the ranch was a valuable piece of land, worth millions of dollars, and no one in their right mind would simply hand it over tax-free to a stranger.

  “Something?” Brant took a swig from the bottle. “You mean like stay on as the hired help? A cabana boy?” He stopped. “Sorry, man. I didn’t…”

  “It’s ok,” Carson hastily assured him. “I think I get it.”

  “It’s just, you know…” Brant gestured with his cigarette, leaving glowing swirls in the dark. “This place. This was everything to me. And so was Mike.” He clenched his jaw to conceal the churning feelings within him. Not only had he lost his lover, but he stood at risk to lose his home if these two decided to take it from him. The ranch that he and Mike had invested too much in, the only part of their love Brant had left now. He missed Mike so much it ached, and every night he mourned the loss of the
man he had loved, who had loved him, and who’d had the biggest, most amazing cock that he knew how to do all kinds of things with. It was a beautiful, thick and wrinkled, hanging down almost to the middle of his thigh when it was soft. But whenever he would eye the bulge in Brant’s own pants or the tight cheeks of his ass, it reared up to a magnificent ten inches, nearly bursting with its own pride. How Brant had loved to take it into his mouth, feeling the swollen purple head knock against the back of his throat. Mike’s light fuzz of reddish-brown public hair would tickle Brent’s nose as he bobbed back and forth, pleasuring his lover with his hand and his mouth. And how it tensed when he came, how Mike’s cock could shoot a full pint of cream over Brant’s face and chest. The first few times he’d taken Mike’s hard cock into his ass, he could hardly bear the pain and had cried out. But Mike had been loving and slow, and over the weeks, months and years together they had gradually worked Brant’s anus and sphincter into a comfortable fit for his lover’s monstrous erection.

  Now any other man might find Brant’s anus too loose to satisfy him. And no other man could ever fill him up the way Mike had. It was an incredible emptiness even worse than being widowed; it would be as though Mike’s and Brant’s love had never existed.

  But sitting here now, talking to this faraway cousin who Mike had never mentioned except to send holiday cards, Brant was struggling to contain his emotions. For Carson looked extraordinarily like his cousin Mike, so much that it had taken Brant’s breath away for a moment the first time he saw him. The same dark hair, pale skin, gymnast build. The same blue eyes that had held so much laughter, love, and raw sexual desire. Brant was shaking so much he had to jam his fists into his pockets.

  Carson thought he saw the glimmer of tears in Brant’s eyes. He hoped this dude wasn’t going to cry right in front of him, so he’d have to hug him awkwardly or something. Brant offered the bottle and Carson took it, grateful to have something to relax him. But why should he need to relax?

  After they had passed the bottle back and forth a few times, Brant said, “Let me ask you something.”

  “Yeah?” Carson replied.

  “Just tell me about Mike. Stuff you remember from when you were kids. Anything.”

  Carson talked for a long while, and the whiskey bottle grew lower and lower. At one point Carson said saying. “Mike never seemed to be much into girls when we were teenagers, and I couldn’t understand it. Now, of course, it makes perfect sense.”

  “Were you?” Brant asked suddenly. “Did you fuck a lot of girls?” The whiskey had made him more blunt than he meant to be, but for some reason he wanted to know.

  Carson shrugged. “I guess.”

  “What about Faye?” Brant pressed him. “How long you been with her?”

  “About a year, I guess. We’re talking about getting married.”

  Brant noticed that we’re getting married and we’re talking about getting married were not the same thing. He’d assumed it was the first one, but Carson was making it sound less certain. But why would any straight man, especially a gorgeous one like this, not jump at the chance to marry a beautiful woman like that?

  Carson shifted and took a long drink of whiskey, as if to nerve himself. “Listen,” he blurted, “now I wanna ask you something. Since you started it.”

  Brant’s ears – and his cock – perked up at this. If the conversation was about to get more personal, he welcomed it. “Yeah, ok, ask.”

  “What did you and Mike do, exactly? I mean, you know, together. I just always kinda wanted to know, uh, what guys did,” Carson rushed out. He knew it sounded weird, but it had always puzzled him, and also aroused a tingling sort of anxiety that he always pushed away. But here, now, under the wide expanse of stars, he felt it was ok to ask.

  “You mean, how we had sex?” Brant said, turning to face him. “Well, pretty much the way you’ve probably seen on the internet.” He shrugged, waiting; let him ask more if he wanted to know more.

  “That’s just it. I’ve never seen that stuff,” Carson said. “I mean, it’s fine and everything, I just could never really picture it.”

  “And never thought to do any research on your own?” Brant smiled, and moved up a few steps closer to Carson, so their voices wouldn’t carry.

  “Well, uhh…”

  “He had the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen” Brant said, surprised at the directness whiskey gave him. “Long and thick, kind of curved. He could do amazing things with it.”

  “Yeah?” Carson was listening. “Like what?”

  “He knew how to slid into a man’s ass like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was too big for me to ever get it all the way down my throat, but he got it deep in me every time without ever hurting me.”

  Maybe wearing sweatpants wasn’t the greatest idea, Carson thought; his stiffening penis was going to push up a tent that would be visible even in the dim light. He tried shifting slightly so Brant wouldn’t notice. Of course Brant had not missed the erection that was outlined by Carson’s clinging sweatpants. He saw it clearly, and Carson saw that he saw it and was relieved and grateful that Brant didn’t tease or mock him for it. “And what else?” Carson said, his breath catching.

  Brant moved to sit just below Carson and reached one arm up to him. “It’s easier if I show you,” he whispered, and pulled him close for a kiss.

  Carson allowed Brant to kiss him for a minute, then began to kiss him back, exploring the other man’s lips and mouth with his tongue. Brant tasted of smoke and whiskey, and the stubble of his beard scratched Carson’s chin. Then they pulled away, looking at each other a moment. “Are you sure?” Brant asked.

  “Yes,” Carson said, and without hesitation Brant knelt in front of him and pulled Carson’s sweatpants down to his waist, freeing the erection that stood stiff and eager in the moonlight.

  My God. Brant had been sure he would never again find a man to match Mike’s size, but here was a cock that was the exact double of the one he still dreamed about every night. The same curve of the phallus, the same throbbing vein that ran up the wide underside of the shaft, the same thick dark hair curled around the base. Even the smell was the same, musk tinged faintly with soap. The effect on Brant was immediate and almost painful; he had to hold back tears at the sight of it.

  “What is it?” Carson asked, anxious.

  Brant swallowed. “It’s just…you really do look like your cousin, you know.”

  Carson did know; even as boys, the two of them had often been mistaken for one another. He suspected Brant meant more than just facial features, though, and asked softly, “Does that bother you?”

  “No,” Brant said, though he wasn’t sure.

  “Would it help to pretend…? I mean, if you shut your eyes, you could imagine it’s his.” It might help the guy to have some kind of closure. And God knew Carson was almost bursting to release his load. Faye was good at licking and kissing his cock, but though she had tried to get the entire length of his shaft down her throat, she hadn’t yet been able to get it quite all the way.

  Brant didn’t need to be asked twice. His full lips closed around the swollen purple head of Carson’s penis, sucking it gently. Brant’s tongue probed around and around the soft flesh, tickling the little slit with his tongue; he could already taste the salty moisture beginning to come from its tips. Carson shut his eyes and moaned, leaning back to feel the glory of being taken in fully at last. God, this was what he’d fantasized about on the crest of orgasm, even if he hadn’t quite let himself acknowledge it. He loved Faye, of course, loved her very much; she was beautiful and sexy and kind and intelligent and supportive, and if she could only do this…..it wasn’t cheating, he told himself. He would never leave his woman for a man, any man, not even this beautiful man who seemed to know how Carson’s body worked even better than he himself did.

  Brant pulled and sucked at Carson’s cock, his own gigantic tool pushing for release from its confines. Carson’s balls were pulling close to his body, and Brant duc
ked to tickle them with his tongue, enjoying Carson’s muffled cries of pleasure. He hoped they wouldn’t wake Faye, but then again, imagining her there with them, seeing her man be sucked by another guy, made Brant relax the back of his throat and move his head up and down the shaft in a rhythm that built faster and faster.

  When Carson exploded in Brant’s mouth, both men felt as though they had finally found something that had been missing their whole lives. Something to fill a hole that neither of them had quite known was there. Swallowing and swallowing the rich salty sperm that seemed to flow endlessly from the twitching penis in his mouth, Brant was still hungry for more. The final spurt had barely finished when Brant sat up and kissed him full on the mouth, letting Carson taste his own warm salt on his sticky lips.

  Panting, the two men were quite for a long time afterward. Brant rested his head in Carson’s lap, while Carson stroked Brant’s hair. Together they looked up at the wide western sky, and realized that neither of them would be quite the same again after this. It was Brant who finally broke the silence, asking, “Was that nice?”

  “Yes,” Carson whispered close to his ear. “Was it nice for you too?”

  “Yes, it was,” Brant replied, kissing him. “You taste good.”

  They were quite for another long moment, catching their breath, and then Carson said, “I owe you, man.”

  “Well, you can owe me right now if you like,” Brant said, reaching for his belt buckle. “It’s time you learned how to properly suck a cock yourself.” Carson’s eyes sparkled eagerly as Brant released his own pale, ruby-tipped cock, which stood like a mast in the moonlight.

  *****

  Faye, of course, had watched the entire scene from the guest bedroom. She was riveted to the window by a mixture of anger and curiosity, which had gradually turned into a mixture of curiosity and excitement. She’d secretly wondered what men did together, and knowing one of them was Carson was an extra thrill. He was always as quick and tidy about sex as he was about everything else. When they made love he would simply slide his long, thick cock into her and move his hips back and forth until they both came (not always at the same time). But seeing him so vulnerable, his legs spread wide and his head thrown back in ecstasy as Brant worked his lips and tongue up and down the swollen shaft, excited her. She was half-ashamed at the tingling wetness between her thighs, but couldn’t move. She reached down to rub her slick clitoris, then moved her fingers away; she’d save her pleasure for when he came back to her.