And we walked toward the bucking chutes, where Doil Payne apparently was waiting his turn at eight seconds in the saddle. I didn’t need to practice. I was that good.
That hypocrite Doil had threaded his long arms through the rails of the bucking chute. He thought he was macho being on the inside of the pen, but that bronc would just as soon kick you to kingdom come. What had that moron been doing that Saturday at the Calaveras Hotel? Dodge told me the rooms he’d been installing HVAC in had had their vents papered off. He said there had been no sign of Room 411's vents being papered over. I had a feeling Doil Payne would not willingly talk to us.
“Hey! Yankee!” I bellowed, hands on hips.
Doil Payne didn’t turn around until someone punched his shoulder and pointed at me.
“Yeah, you! I got a question for you! Get down here!”
Doil apparently didn’t recognize us, seeing as how we were not currently making out and I was wearing my Stetson. He clambered back over the rail and jumped manfully down, but nearly stumbled over his brand-spanking-new cowboy boots. He wouldn’t get far in those. He could barely walk.
I bawled, “We hear you work for Cockroach Blockers.”
Doil nodded. “Sometimes.”
“Were you at the Calaveras Hotel Saturday the ninth? Fumigating the premises?”
His handsome eyes became shaded. “Well, now, I can’t seem to recall my exact schedule…”
Dodge couldn’t help himself. “It was two fucking weeks ago, asshole! You recognize me, don’t you? The sheet metal worker with the gold Silverado truck parked right behind yours? I was taking stuff out of my truck as you were loading up your Cockroach van.”
Doil looked at Dodge emptily. “Never seen you before in my life.”
I stepped in between them. “Oh yeah? How’s about this? Does this ring any bells?”
And I wrapped my arms around Dodge, bending him over backward like I had in front of the fumigating building. My hat tumbled off, letting my little ponytail flip free.
Our kiss was wet and electric, almost better than the previous one. Maybe because I could taste my jizz on Dodge’s tongue, and I liked that. It showed my power over him. I’d gotten him to gulp my semen—not all men did—some liked to spit it out. When they ate it, it displayed that the vigor of my cock had filled him with milky DNA made in my body. He’d known the joy of licking me higher, higher to orgasm. It got me all worked up, tasting my salty spunk, and I squeezed his torso to me.
He moaned, and groaned, and licked my tongue, too. It was by sheer power of my own will that I broke the kiss, set Dodge upright, and looked Doil Payne in the eye.
He looked dumbfounded.
His jaw hung low, and he seemed speechless.
“Now do you remember us?” I snarled.
He had a hard-on, and he was looking right at Dodge’s. “Fags,” he said weakly.
“That’s right,” spat Dodge. “You called us fucking fags, when you’re one yourself. Can you justify this hypocrisy?”
Fear darted through Doil Payne’s eyes. He held his hands up. “Don’t tell my boss! He doesn’t like fags!”
I said, “We’ll tell your boss if you won’t fucking admit you were fumigating the hotel on Saturday the ninth.” I probably wouldn’t have. Gay-shaming, or outing someone who was closeted, went against the gay code. But it made an effective threat.
“Don’t tell him!” Doil cried, his voice getting higher with every word.
Dodge said, “Not only will we tell him you were here, engaging in bronc events, we’ll tell him you got a hard-on watching two men kiss.”
“Don’t tell him!” Doil shrieked like Mickey Mouse. “Okay, okay! I was fumigating the hotel, are you happy?”
“Then what’s the big deal?” I asked. “Why so damned secretive?”
“Because we saw the article about the dead people, and we thought we might get blamed for it! Believe you me, there was no one in the hotel when I sprayed. I checked every room!”
“Where did you start spraying?” asked Dodge. “The basement? Water and forced air pipes connect to all the rooms down there.”
“Right, the basement. It’s fastest and easiest.”
He seemed way more concerned with us telling his boss he was gay than with possibly being implicated in murder. I said, “Don’t worry. We won’t tell him you like dick.”
Doil Payne pointed at the ground. “And as far as those people go, they were both cheating on their spouses. They probably took a suicide pact to leave this world together.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. That must be it. Thanks for your time.”
We turned on our heels and sauntered in the general direction of Dodge’s truck. But I knew I wanted to make a detour.
Turning to Dodge, I grabbed his bicep. I looked him levelly in the eye. “Listen here. How’s about ‘cockroach’?”
He frowned. “Cockroach for what?”
“For our safe word.”
Realization dawned on his soulful face. “Safe word, right! But how can I say it if my mouth is full of your cock?”
That pleased me, the idea that Dodge’s mouth might be full of my dick again in the near future. Encouraged, I dragged him into yet another stall, this one occupied by a placid gelding. I knew the horse as belonging to a bullfighter, or rodeo clown, so this one wouldn’t buck. There was even a low wooden stool for me to sit on. I patted my knee, but Dodge didn’t get it.
The words sounded foreign in my mouth. “I apologize for being overly rough with you, Dodge. I just couldn’t take it anymore. You’re a luscious looker, you fucking are. And the idea that you’re a cock virgin trying to relive a youthful experience turns me on even more. Get your delicious ass over here.”
I could tell he didn’t know what I wanted. I was aware it sure looked like I was fixing to blow him, but I’d only blown one guy in my life. I had no plans to start now.
To confuse him, I think, I smilingly undid his belt buckle. It was one of those pewter things declaring Sheet Metal Workers Local 291 with a bas-relief of a guy machining something. “I know I was too rough for a cock virgin like you.” Oh wow. His dick bulged lewdly inside his boxers, and my cock twitched. I did have half an inkling to take that long, juicy sucker into my mouth, but I had other plans. I yanked his jeans down to his knees and turned him sideways.
I’ll bet he still thought I was gonna swallow his sword. I did wrap my hand around his velvety member and jacked him for a few seconds. He spread his feet as far as his pants would allow, put his fists on his hips, and leaned back. No man had touched that dick since college and I knew it was a rare privilege.
“You’re a priceless piece of statuary,” I murmured. “My hands and eyes are accustomed to appraising a man’s body and cock. I declare you to be priceless.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, already lost in ecstasy.
But this wasn’t what I had in mind. Abruptly, I altered the power balance of the scene. The clown’s horse whinnied softly when I yanked on Dodge’s shirt tails. He half-fell, half-kneeled, and I positioned him over my lap.
There. This is what I wanted. He could balance himself on his fingertips, and I was pleased to see he still kept his boots as far apart as possible. And I was presented with a tempting, rounded, white ass.
I slapped it.
“Oh!” he cried.
“Yeah,” I growled, in full Alpha mode. “I’m humanizing you, Dodge. Your desire to be degraded and objectified by me makes you human. You trust me, right?” Slap.
“Yes!”
Cupping my hand, I banged out a few hollow spanks onto that luscious, virgin ass. I knew the stinging was radiating into his balls, stiffening his dick against his will. Because he wore no slave collar, I gripped his shirt’s collar to keep him still while my other hand stepped up the spanking. Already his pristine ass was cherry red.
“Stay in the moment, boy,” I commanded. “Think about the way my ownership elevates you. Face your need to be objectified by me.” Slap. This time I
allowed my fingers to stray down his rounded bum and ring his hole. When I tickled that little hole, his long cock bobbed against my thigh. Oh yeah. Now this was something no football player had ever done to him. Or…was it?
Brushing aside my momentary lack of self-esteem, I kept commanding. “Just dive into the ecstatic pleasure of presenting yourself to me, being examined by me. How does it make you feel?”
He chuckled weakly. “Like a prize horse on display.”
More spanking, this time short and fast, a flurry of swats. This took Dodge’s mind off my next move. I slipped my hand below his asshole to cup a handful of his swinging balls.
Now I needed both hands. I let go of his shirt collar so I could swat his rump with my left hand while my right hand was free to explore. I fondled his balls a bit, then moved to squeeze his pulsating dick. Ah, heaven. This guy was set to blow, but orgasm denial was my specialty. I swiped a few drops of precum from his slit and used my thumb to swirl it around his asshole.
“Don’t forget, boy. You are gorgeous. Be brave and unafraid to be nude in front of me. I can teach you to be a man. I can teach you to be proud of this hole that’s a receptacle for me.”
And I shoved my thumb up his ass.
I liked this technique. I could ream a guy while my free fingers diddled with his ballsac. I only wished I had a chastity belt to dress him in. That would drive him even higher up the wall while I denied his orgasm.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Dodge choked every time I jammed my thumb up his channel.
But he didn’t pull away. And the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. And that virile Adam’s apple bobbed like nothing else.
I spanked him, reamed him, and fondled his balls all at the same time. Dodge was humping my thigh and I made no motion to stop him. I should have, I know. There was no release for a newbie beta like him. But he must have had a fresh load of precum at his slit, because he was rubbing that cock wetly against my jeans.
“It’s the most human thing in the world,” I said, “to want to be degraded and objectified by me. You’re not less or unworthy. It’s about freeing you up to revel in your own freedom in our power structure.”
Frankly, I don’t know how much he was listening to me at this point. I kept thumb-fucking him, wishing it was my dick. Once in a while I’d stop slapping his ass, and I’d dart my hand down to squeeze his dick, always forcing myself to return to spanking.
“I want to be degraded by you,” Dodge moaned.
There. We were making progress. “Good. Good boy. I can see you’re being turned on by my finger in your asshole.”
“Yes,” he groaned. “It’s making me hotter than hell. Hotter than I’ve ever been before.”
“I can tell.” I couldn’t resist demonstrating with another squeeze to his dick. So much jism had built up, I could take a nice palm full of it and give his dick a few jacks. His face was going in so many directions, like he didn’t know how to feel. But now his jaw was hanging low, and I could tell it was too late.
I plunged my thumb inside his slick channel as I pumped my fist up and down his erection. I was rewarded with an almost instant blast of jizz against my other pant leg, my boot.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” he whispered, his hips shuddering with release.
Corkscrewing my fist around his spurting dick a few more times, I dropped it. I knew he was still coming, and it was my way of maintaining the upper hand. His poor dick would be spasming into the cold air.
Now I had a palmful of spunk. I held it to his mouth like he was a dog. He lapped it, tentatively at first, then eagerly.
Maybe he knew what he was going to do. But when he was done sucking the ejaculate from my fingers, he turned to me and gave me a full-on kiss on the mouth.
I didn’t resist. I’d only tasted another man’s jizz once before, but suddenly it felt right.
I held his jaw in my hand and kissed him back, our tongues intertwining.
Is this what love felt like? I wouldn’t know.
Chapter Nine
Dodge
I arrived at Steinbeck’s ME office before King, and that was fine with me.
“I want to be degraded by you,” I’d told him, on my knees in that smelly horse stable.
King churning his thumb in my asshole had brought me to say, “It’s making me hot. Hotter than I’ve ever been in my life.”
Oh, and spurt semen all over his fucking leg, his fucking hand, when he was barely touching me at all.
We’d left it at that, as though the scene ended abruptly, as though the director had yelled “cut!” Sure, King had licked his own jizz off my tongue. And I was more turned on than at any other time—okay, maybe even hotter than the locker room time, because this was King, and I knew him, and we were on a mission together. I hadn’t really known my fellow football players and their rock-hard penises longing for release. Only that I wanted to give them release.
As I wanted to relieve King. Over and over and over. Over and over until his spunk came out my nose and ears. Until he petted me, and rubbed his slick glans against my lips, and told me I was the best cocksucker he’d ever known.
Only then would I rest. And only for a few minutes.
Was this love?
I had loved Cindy, and I’d wanted to make her come with my mouth, over and over. So maybe it was love.
An ancient hippie emerged from an inner door of Steinbeck’s office. His T-shirt declared, “plant trees, not bombs.”
Steinbeck clapped him on the shoulder with encouragement. “That was wild, Mel. The second your eye movements shifted from the classic REM to that strange left-and-right regular rhythm, I knew something was up.”
“You thought I was dreaming about a tennis match,” said Mel.
Levi Steinbeck reached inside his lab coat and palmed something that he gave surreptitiously to Mel. “Purple Urkle.” He nodded with confidence.
Mel did, too, and left.
“How stupid do you think I am?” I yelled. Was I irritated because I hadn’t been able to suck Kingsize’s kingsize cock in the stable? Something was unfulfilled in me, that was for sure. “You were handing Mel some marijuana to pay him for being your research subject.”
“So?” said Steinbeck. “That’s legal ’cause it’s my own private research. Can you imagine, when I saw his eyes going back and forth, back and forth, I woke him up? He said he was dreaming of watching a tennis match! I’m telling you, I’m using the first dollars of my research windfall on a trip to the Sandoz Labs in Switzerland. They researched ergot, a fungus found on bread. Albert Hoffman was synthesizing it when he discovered its kaleidoscopic properties.”
I looked blankly at Steinbeck.
“A little product called LSD!” he cried. “It changed the world!”
I snorted. “Maybe your world.”
“Come on! Are you trying to tell me you’ve never partaken of a little Windowpane, a tiny hit of Orange Sunshine?”
“As if. Steinbeck, I come from Modesto. I'm in the sheet metal workers’ union. We can’t so much as toke off one joint there because we’re constantly being piss-tested.”
“You ungrateful prick! Your utter lack of bravery makes me ill. Will our plan work? What do you think?”
“About the rats? The question is, are we using the same mixture of poison the Cockroach Blockers used?”
“Do you want to look back at your life and realize you wasted an entire year? That’s why it’s called ‘experimentation’! Is this mission your little plane, Dodge? And you want to fly it into the side of a fucking skyscraper? King, you want to climb on in and die a flaming death right behind him?”
“What’s everyone talking about?” asked King, who had just appeared.
I started saying, “He handed a hippie some weed—”
“Oh!” said King, brightly. “Got any more?”
Steinbeck headed for the refrigerated units where he kept champagne, cheese, and god knew what else. Moldy bread.
Steinbeck moved some green-purple globes of
cured plant matter from one bag to a smaller one. “I’ve got a theory. Flo Jannery was overcome with fumes first, so she fell as she staggered to the can. Mike Seville came to help her, but died in the bathroom doorway, as you saw.” He handed King his bag. “Look. When I cut their lungs open, the obvious signs of cyanide poisoning were there. The mucous membranes, swollen and hemorrhaging with bloody stars—the final death throes of expiring blood cells.”
Steinbeck’s eyes grew large. “And when the lung slices went through the chemical tests, they shined with the stunning, Prussian glow of the morning sun.”
I was silent. I had to admit, that was pretty conclusive evidence. “But how will we get past the crime scene tape?”
Steinbeck stood tall. “I’m a fucking medical examiner.”
“No you ain’t,” said King, grinning.
What? “What is he?” I asked, understandably.
King hooked a thumb at the ginger scientist. “I just found out he’s a big university chemist who was making hooch in the hills until he got caught up in the mayor’s scandal. He’s just here working off his community service hours.”
“What?” I bellowed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! We’re listening to a moonshiner?”
King never lost that mellow grin. “Hey. Levi knows his shit. How do you think he made the best, purest hooch in the history of Buckeye County?”
Levi stuck his thumbs in imaginary suspenders. “It was divine. Still is, actually, now that I got the proof down to 151, all nice and legal. And I distribute strictly through retailers, not the street.”
“Well, that’s good,” I said doubtfully. “But what qualifies you to kill our rats?” For King had stopped at the pet supply barn and picked up ten rats.
Levi said, “Killing rats in the forensics world is a rite of passage, akin to chlamydia. At first, it’s gross and mortifying and you’re grossed out by your own dick. But after a while, you see the charm in it.”
“You do?” I gaped.
“Come now,” Steinbeck said smoothly. “If we disagree and there’s a tie vote, it shall be settled with a coin toss, a coin of my own choosing.”
Two Good Men [Hell's Delight: Unbridled 3] (Siren Pubishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 7