"Texas Heat" By Justin Balancier
There are times when lunacy creeps into one life. Sometimes lust, scorched in memory screams. "Remember Dallas Texas." Just like, it did for me, Jesse Valona.
It was the 5:00 pm on Friday in July, celebrating happy hour at "The stagecoach" a gay bar, in Dallas Texas. They were applauding new ownership. I didn't care for the people there, so I finished my second glass of beer and went next door to a rural dinner where the food was Texas beef, and the music was Willie Nelson.
I loved the look of the place. The best thing about diners is the food hot off the grill, with no frills, just good coffee, hot cooking, and friendly people.
I sat at the counter next to a man, who had been in the Stagecoach bar, for the happy hour opening.
"So what do you think of this Texas heat?" he said to me.
"Whew, it's warm alright. I live here now, but come from Minnesota, where this heat rarely gets that far north."
"Yep, that is why you don't lay around outside. You have to be inside, where there is air conditioning. That is something never afforded to the Alamo, including their leaders, Colonels William Travis, James Bowie, and the legendary frontiersman Davy Crockett. There was no air-conditioning when they played together. He rattled off like a history teacher.
"Aren't you a bucket of history. What has the Alamo got to do with anything?"
"They were needy men playing on a hot day."
"Yeaa – okay, so you are not talking about playing checkers?"
"Hardly."
"Are you coming on to me?" I asked looking him over. I have to admit, a lot of man, for sure.
"How am I doing?" he asked. "My name is Cody."
"Works for me."
"I knew it would, by the way you are looking at me. Does that make me conceded?" Cody asked.
"I don't care if you are conceded or not. Everyman knows their value. I am Jesse."
"Let's move to a table, so we can talk," suggested Cody.
"Works for me," I repeated for the second time talking like a dope, yet trying to sound cool.
"Coffee, gentlemen," asked a waitress, wearing a nametag that said `Penny.'
How `bout something to eat?" she asked.
"Just coffee for now, maybe later," answered Cody, "and make them both black."
"You got it hon," she said and walked away.
"So, you think people know their own value, and you don't care about their personality?" continued Cody.
"Yep, that's about it."
"That's interesting," he said, "What do you care about, or should I guess?"
Cody was exactly my type, a Texas cowboy. He looked hot and smelled perfect to me. It was a combination of leather, fresh hay, and sweat. Even better, he wore a great hat. I am a sucker for cowboy hats. I resemble a goof ball, wearing one myself; but I love them on a rough man unshaven and rodeo driven.
I brushed my leg against Cody and left it there for a few seconds. It is an old tired ploy, yes, an old gimmick, but somehow it still works without having to say anything.
I put my hand on Cody's lap under the table. I assumed he wouldn't object, and he didn't. It was magical when Cody said - "I think this is what you are looking for."
He closed his legs and trapping my hand on the bulge in his khaki covered crotch. How disturbing is that, for beginner's luck?
"Do you want me to unzip?" he asked quietly."
"Of course not," I could feel a stiff package right through his clothing and it hungered me. However, a diner was no place to start something like that, tempting as it sounded.
"What do you think?" – asked Cody? "Do you have about an hour or so? I can show you my ranch. It is 15 minutes from here."
"Are you a rancher?"
"Not really, it is a cattle farm, but in Texas, it's called a ranch. I run the farm with my two sons, no wife, we're divorced. I also have a married daughter, but she lives in Austin.
The more he talked, the warmer I was getting. I took my hand away from his crotch and he gave me one of those special looks, when words are no longer necessary. It's a look that a dog gives you, begging for a bone.
"So what do you think?" He asked me for the second time. "You can see that I need a little undercover work, if you are interested."
"I think we should go look at some cattle." I replied finding it difficult to talk. My voice was shaky, my cock semi swollen and my heart fluttering like a nervous beginner about to suck cock, for the first time.
"Perfect." said Cody. "Let's hit the trail."
We stood up together and Cody left money on the table for the coffee and a tip for Penny, the waitress.
"Why don't you leave your car here, and we can take my truck. I'll bring you back," Suggested Cody.
"Okay."
Cody drove an older Ford pickup truck. It looked like a typical ranger vehicle that worked well with his charisma. He did not make an effort to start the engine. Even though it was hot as hell in the truck, we sat there like dopes with the windows down.
Cody sat behind the wheel with his legs spread and his cock choking behind the beige khaki pants he was wearing. Good Lord, he was flesh on steroids.
You could see the hair on his chest peeking out at his neckline. Well proportioned, on the thin side, made him deceiving of the solid muscle one saw when he moved. It was obvious there was heat bubbling away, in this Texas cowboy.
Cody squeezed my knee and rubbed my thigh. It wasn't much, but it was a start of better things to come.
"It's hot in here Jesse, but you already know that." Then he took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. He started the engine to cool, the inside of the truck.
"You need a hat, good buddy, you will burn up in the Texas sun," said Cody.
"I know, and I am going to get one. I want a Stetson or what folks call a cowboy hat."
"Hell, good buddy, in Texas we all call em cowboy hats' and you've got one now." He mumbled.
He reached behind the seat and picked up an obviously used tan cowboy hat with a black band. When I say `used' I mean not store bought new, but in spot-on condition. It was smooth, clean, and broken in with a stimulating turn down to the brim. It was sexy as hell, and I loved it. Any dude would look hot wearing a hat like this.
Cody plunked it on my head. By the grace of Sam Huston, the hat fit and I looked like a Texan, I really did. I hogged the mirror a little too long basking in the glory of how good I looked. It was ridiculous carrying on like a glamor girl, over a hat. However, Cody didn't mind, he sat grinning as I made a jerk of myself.
The hat eyeballs you Jesse, now that you've turned into a Texan."
"I love this fuckin hat. Thanks, yeah, I do look super good," I remember saying.
"And modest too," Cody added, "That is yours to keep." He said to me.
"I can't keep your hat; I will give it back when I leave."
"Nope, it's your hat now. Take care of my cock and it is a fair exchange. Can you manage that?" he asked, with a quirky smile and a turned up lip. Gaud, he was too much, talk about frustration.
"Damn straight I can, just find us a private spot; I'll lick the shine off your boots."
"That's the blowjob I am looking for and gonna hold you to that," he replied.
"Actually it's the sweat off your balls, but I thought saying `boots' was not so dirty sounding." I know, it was a stupid time to be proper, but I did say I was frustrated.
"I like balls better," mumbled Cody, pushing his cock down between his legs. "Yeah licking the sweat off my balls sounds a lot better to me," he added.
"Why me?" I asked.
"Why not - I overheard you saying next door, in the bar, about sucking some guy's cock, and I want that guy to be me." He added.
Cody started to unzip, but stopped. "Fuck, if you do it here, we will not get to the farm. I will shoot off in the truck and that is not what I want. I have a load here that belongs in your mouth."
"I know it does, I have some fuckin work to do, so put me to work." I said rubbing his husky thigh. Just be sure to bring me back, so I can get my car.
"Of course, I said, I would, didn't I?"
We left the parking lot and Cody drove down a back road leading onto his property where the barn was located. It was a cattle road away from the house. There were horses grazing in the field.
My sons are not here, all the cars are gone. We have the barn to ourselves." He said.
Cody led the way to the back of a hayloft that was secluded. From that spot, one could see through a cracked door, if anybody was coming. It was perfect.
However, not everything was perfect. It was scorching hot in the barn, but I had to deal with it. Yee god, the uncomfortable moments that some gays tolerate for cock.
Cody peeled off his shirt then put his hat back on his head. He leaned against a post and unzipped his pants dropping them on top of his boots. OMG he looked delicious fuzzy chested and available.
Damn..."If I pass out from the heat, it will be with a dick in my mouth, wouldn't you just know it?"
"It is yours, man – take it," he said and put my hand on his hairy bush.
We both were warm. Cody was moist and sweaty warm, starting to leak a drop of sweet honey. His cock was a swollen torpedo and I was not sure if he was circumcised or uncut. He was so hard, the head of his cock dripped like clear syrup, and he smelled salty, erotic and a bit like a jock strap, from a locker room.
Cody, a hot handling cowboy, with his balls crunched riding a horse in the Texas sun, kept his nuts warming a load of nectar. This was a recipe for a faggot's lunch.
However, he did not ride a horse, like the Matt Dillon, in 'Dodge City Gunsmoke. Instead, his hairy ass sat on the seat of a truck. This was just as good as riding a horse, as far as I was concerned.
I began stroking his thighs and running my fingers through his crotch hair. I wanted to do everything right, so I rested my head on his abdomen, nibbling and kissing his stomach. However, Cody didn't care for the `cutesy' stuff. He wanted only one thing, and I wanted only the prize. Cody had a masculine face that one could easily kiss; however, this was crotch sex, with no affection. I am smart enough to recognize what to do, and what not to try.
"Get your mouth on it Jesse, I need a cock sucker, man," he mumbled sounding different from the typical dude wanting to get off. His voice was deep and arousing like a recording edged in mystery. I never encountered a man so strong, forceful in charge, yet so gentle. Actually, it was simple to figure out. Cody was vocal about what he wanted. He didn't say, "suck it," or "fuck yeah – fuck yeah," or any of that porn nonsense. He said "I need your `mouth,' and I liked hearing that.
The word, 'mouth,' Cody no sooner mumbled, when my lips wrapped around his leaking prick and I gobbled like a slut draining the flavor from his cock on to my greedy tongue. Sweat ran down my face burning my eyes, but I stayed with it.
"Yee God – this is good," screamed Cody. "Take it-take it, he continued. I could hear his breathing become a little heavier, as he pushed his hips towards me.
I stood up, tore off my shirt, and wiped my eyes. It helped a little, but it was not going as planned. I wanted to lick him everyplace, just to have him in my mouth. It was strange as hell, how he affected me. I feared the burning sweat in my eyes was ruining everything, I felt myself slipping on the job.
He grinned broadly, with the dark gray of his eyes filled with a salacious gleam. I saw the flames of lust shooting from him and, I shivered with excitement. Knowing this dudes body, with sweat across his chest, was lubricant for my hands; I rubbed my fingers through his bush, down his legs and over his ass. I licked, slurped, and breathed in his cowboy scent.
A hayloft on a blistering hot day can drain the moisture from your body in no time. This was one of those 99 degree outside days and 118 (plus,) in an enclosed barn.
As hard as I tried, the discomfort was ruining me. I was losing interest yet struggling not to do so. It was tough and truthfully, I was about to give up. Glory was becoming torture.
"It is too fuckin hot in the barn, c'mon," said Cody. I should have known better. "We are going to the house." He pulled up his pants and we headed for the outside air.
I was right behind him walking fast towards the open doors.
Outside was hot also, but more breathable and felt so much better. I can understand why animals especially cattle, are out on the range, standing under trees, during the day.
"Suppose your son comes home." I said.
"Don't worry about it. You will have sucked me off long before that happens."
"I'm definitely a fan of that," I mumbled agreeing like a hungry whore.
"That's the idea man, you gonna take this load in your mouth," He asked, "It could be a lot."
"Hell yes, if I am going to suck it out, it will be the lunch I didn't get at the diner," I said smirking.
"You're a pig Jesse – suck my balls – let's do this thing right," he quoted with renewed interest. "Hold on, we can use something to drink, gotta stay hydrated," he added. "I don't want my cocksucker passing out in mid-stream.
Cody grabbed two bottles of cold water and we went straight to a front room overlooking the driveway. From the window, one could see a car coming down the road. The house was air-conditioned. Ah yes, this was so much better. Beats me why we didn't come here in the first place.
This time, Cody took off his clothes and leaned naked against the wall, sipping on a bottle of water. He was hotter looking than a young Brando, with a ripped shirt yelling "Stella" on the Waterfront.
"You're a fuckin stud," I managed to say before getting my face under his low hanging balls. His cock was better looking than it appeared in the barn. It had to be my burning eyes that missed that precious feature. "Now, "Where were we?" I said.
"You were licking the sweat off my balls, about to deep throat a big fat cock," he replied... "Show me your hungry mouth, geese's, I love a good suck job."
Cody's cock swelled bouncing like a springboard in front of my gaping mouth. His cock was as hard as stone and I could sense the syrup churning in his plump sack filled with man juice. Hell yes, this was the way to go.
He held my face shoving his cock into my mouth. "Taste the meat Jesse, you needy cock sucker, drain those nuts. Suck it out of me dude."
"OMG, yes," I groaned passionately, almost inaudibly. Saliva flowed filling my mouth sucking his cock the best I could. I was off and running, and tried not to choke, but fuck it; I just had to have it. A little chocking adds to the mystery.
I was swallowing cock and masturbating him using my lips and tongue. Spit served as a lubricant and his cock was siding in and out of my mouth like slipping on oil in a greasy pit.
Cody loudly moaned, "Yeah, dude, I need it – take it fucker!" He placed both hands on the back my head locking his fingers in position keeping his cock into my mouth.
When he heard me gagging, he withdrew a little before slowly penetrating again in even thrusts. He liked being in charge and it was fine with me. I'm not fond of chocking, but work is work. If I had to be a pig, I would be a damn good one.
He worked himself into an explosive climax, with the honey in his nuts rising to a volcanic eruption. Shot after shot gushed from his pulsing cock onto my accepting tongue. Bolts of stringy honey oozed out and I had to swallow it. A little gob dripped from the side of my lips and Cody pushed it back in with his finger. When he was sure his cum was swallowed, he kept his finger in my mouth and I sucked that too. This was what Cody wanted, and I was not about to mess up.
Eating Cody's thick cream covered just about everything I was looking for. The best part was the taste, something rarely that good, passes down my throat, and I like doing it. It was awesome.
Satisfaction is what mattered. He was still holding my face, when I heard him say, "That's it Jesse, I will take you to get your car now." Just like that – it was over.
"Yeah – good," I replied. I had never worked so hard, for so long, and loved it so much.
My time spent with Cody left me feeling like a piano player in a Texas whorehouse. I played the right keys, hitting the best cords, and got result. However, my claim to fame believes that you should always want something and like a dark horse – I got what I wanted.
I'll admit - I love the cowboy hat and I sucked off a rancher to keep it. I never expected a thing like this to happen, and maybe, I don't even deserve it.
Let's face it, one never knows, what's around the next corner. However, I merited the hat, for sure. The hat, goes wherever my rowdy body takes me. Some folks look at me strangely wearing a cowboy hat, when I go to Minnesota - Fuck `em.
I was born a certain way; to do certain things. I know my place – make no mistake! It is just not that complicated.
Justin at – jbalancier9@yahoo.com
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