Sexy Gay Stories - Volume Four - three m/m short stories

shrugged.
    ‘You like what you see, Doug?’ He knew my name because it was embroidered above my shirt pocket.
    I tried to maintain eye contact, but I couldn’t. I kept glancing down at Kyle’s still-wet package. The water in the pool must have been warm because I saw no evidence of shrinkage. ‘I need to get back to work.’
    ‘You were almost finished,’ Kyle said. ‘The rose garden’s the last thing you do.’
    He’d been paying as much attention to me the previous weeks as I’d been paying to him.
    ‘Winchester’s away,’ he continued. ‘He won’t be back until evening.’
    I pulled a kerchief from my hip pocket. I used it to mop my brow and the back of my neck.
    ‘I have cold beer inside.’
    I returned the kerchief to my pocket and glanced at my watch. I didn’t have any other clients on Thursday and I wasn’t due back at the office for two hours. ‘Maybe one.’
    Kyle turned and walked inside. I turned off the water and followed him. The pool house hadn’t been designed as a guesthouse, but had been converted. Three louvered doors on one wall led to closet-sized changing rooms and a fourth door led to a bathroom with a shower; a built-in bar with a mini-fridge and a microwave occupied the second wall; a flat screen television filled the third; and the fourth wall was all glass, the blinds open to let late-afternoon sun stream into the room. A king-size bed occupied much of the main room, and it hadn’t been made.
    Kyle had opened two bottles of beer and he stood in front of the bed holding one in each hand. I took one from his outstretched hand and downed half the bottle in one long swallow. The beer cooled me, but did nothing to dampen my desire for the naked man in front of me. My erect cock still strained against the inside of my work pants.
    He said, ‘You still look hot.’
    Kyle set his beer aside and unbuttoned my sage-coloured work shirt. When he finished, I shook it off my shoulders and let it slide down my arms to the floor. Then I peeled off my sweat-stained T-shirt and dropped it to the floor.
    I don’t have pretty muscles – I work for a living – and my tan is a farmer’s tan. My face, my neck, and my arms from the ends of my short sleeves on down to my fingertips are leather brown while the rest of my body has the complexion of a grub worm – a hairy grub worm. Kyle didn’t seem to mind. He unfastened my belt, unzipped my work pants, and pulled my pants and boxers to my knees. They fell the rest of the way to my ankles.
    Then he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my thick cock. He wrapped one fist around my stiff shaft and pulled me forward, causing me to shuffle toward him. He took the head of my cock in his mouth, hooked his teeth behind the swollen glans, and licked away the glistening drop of precome.
    He pistoned his fist up and down my cock shaft until I began to thrust my hips forward and pull back. Each time I did that, Kyle took more of my cock into his mouth. Before long he released his grip on my cock, grabbed my ass cheeks, and pulled my groin tight to his face.
    My entire cock disappeared into Kyle’s mouth and I felt his hot breath tickle the wild tangle of black hair at my crotch. Then I pulled back and thrust forward repeatedly, fucking his face so hard my balls slapped his chin. I grabbed the back of Kyle’s head, threaded my thick fingers through his still-damp hair, and drove into his mouth one last time before I came.
    I stiffened as I fired thick wads of hot come against the back of Kyle’s throat. He swallowed every drop and, when my cock finally stopped spasming and began to soften, he licked it clean. Then he pulled away, releasing his oral grip on my cock, and lay back on the bed.
    My feet were tangled up in my pants, so I could barely move. I turned awkwardly and sat heavily on the bed next to Kyle. I untied my steel-toed work boots and let them thump to the floor before untangling my legs.
    ‘You have no idea how good that felt.’ Kyle licked his lips. ‘I haven’t had a real man in my mouth for months. Sucking that old man’s dick is like chewing bad calamari. If he doesn’t remember his pill, I can work that thing until I’m blue in the face and nothing’ll happen.’
    I stretched out next to the younger man. Up close he smelled of chlorine. ‘Then why do you do it?’
    ‘You think I can afford this lifestyle without Winchester? I’ve been to Aspen, New York, London. I drive his Ferrari. I eat lobster and steak. I