Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
My conscience had just won out, my cock hot and hard against my stomach as I let go of it to close the video, when, “Emerson…” whispered from lips I couldn’t see, but knew they were pink and plump and so fuckable. “Emerson,” he said again, so soft I could hardly hear it. My dick twitched against my abs. Precum leaked onto my belly. I smelled my arousal in the humid air, which turned me on even more.
I couldn’t stop myself from fisting my erection again, from jerking it in unison with Sam’s pulls—fast, then slow and languid. He didn’t talk much, just moaned and said my name, his breathing heavier as he swiped at his tip with his bruised thumb. A pearl of precum was there, his hand rose, and I knew he was licking it off himself.
“Fuck…want you…so hot…”
I twisted my hand around my crown, tightened my grip, jerked faster, my full balls aching and begging for more.
When Sam reached down with one hand, rubbed his taint, while the other pleasured his cock until he spurted thick ribbons of cum up his belly, a needy, “Emerson,” on his lips, my own orgasm shot through me. My spine straightened and my balls drew up, my load pulsing out of me in long, fast, thick spurts, covering my belly, my hand, hanging from the dark hair at my groin.
Sam ran his fingers through his release, then raised his arm. When his hand was in view again, it was licked clean. He did it a second time, and a third, before the video ended.
I wiped my fingers on the blanket and clicked on the “About” section. Not everyone bothered with them, but Sam did.
What’s a small-town, closeted gay man to do but spend his nights fantasizing about the sexy, older, mysterious man on his delivery route? If I hadn’t known I was queer before, all it would have taken was one look at him. He gets me boned up every time I stop at his house to…deliver my package…I mean, a package. Maybe next time, he’ll let me get on my knees for him…
Sam ended it with a wink emoji.
He only had ten videos on his page, and I spent the night watching every one of them. None of them showed his face. All were of him jacking off—in his chair, on a bed, in the woods, in an old, abandoned house, a bathroom at some public place.
He didn’t have much traction on his account. It hadn’t been open for long. It was clear he was trying to build up his subscribers but wasn’t having much luck. All it would take was a look at his face, and I knew that would help…and to hear his sexy drawl, in his smooth-as-honey voice.
I watched my video a second time, a third, a fourth, listened to him say my name, and I knew, right then and there, that I was fucked.
The next morning, I found an unopened bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and a note by my front door. Did you hear about the circus fire? It was intense…get it? in-tents. LOL.
When I smiled, it became even more obvious that I needed to stay away from Sam for good.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sam
Emerson hadn’t received any packages in three weeks. That was unusual for him. I knew he left his house because I’d seen him around town a few times in the past. Plus, there were always rumors and stories about him, people talking about seeing him, women talking about how attractive he was, those who complained about the northerners moving south and how Emerson thought he was better than everyone else.
There were also those who were just curious about him, who just wanted to be friendly, and they weren’t used to someone in Ryland keeping to themselves so much. But the point was, even though I knew he left his house, it wasn’t often, so he got a lot of deliveries. There wasn’t a time since I’d started this route that he hadn’t gotten something in three weeks.
He hadn’t ordered food from the diner either, and I knew from Iris, the owner, that he ordered fairly often, but now, nothing. I was pretty sure that was because of me.
I finished my route for the day, then headed to the diner to pick up dinner for Molly and me. I’d called ahead of time, hoping I didn’t get stuck talking to everyone. If I did, I’d never get out of there, and I was tired, annoyed, and just…bored. I didn’t know if that was the right word, but sometimes I thought I could go through my life with my eyes closed, that every single day would be like the one before and the one before that, this monotonous loop that never changed and never would. I was stuck on a merry-go-round of work, hanging out with Molly, making sure Mama was okay, and being who and doing what everyone in town needed me to be and do.