This hot erotic story, titled “No Good Reason Why Not”, tells the story of a young ranch hand called Andy who can't find any good reason not to suck the other studly ranch hand's cock! Read an excerpt from this story below;
It was like I was sleep-walking. I walked over to his bed, next to him. As I did, the glob of precome I'd watched before slid down his glans and reached for the floor, just like I'd imagined it would. The head of it grew as it fell, and the strand of clear fluid broke, it fell onto the floor between my legs. I felt a sense of loss at that. If I'd been quicker, I could have caught it on my tongue and... What the hell was I thinking here? This was messing up my head! "Get down and suck it!" Coltrane's words were hard as steel. He wasn't asking me, he was ordering me. I'd been told by Mr. McKeever to do whatever Coltrane told me to do. Learn my job from him. I'd agreed to do just that. Raised from childhood that you keep your word no matter what. The time to object is beforehand, before you're hired on, not afterwards after you've shaken hands with your boss. So I did what he told me to do, I knelt down and reached out and took his cock as he let go of it. It was warm as a live animal in my hand, feeling of velvet where it wasn't punctuated by the tickle of his hairs from below. "Come on, get to sucking it!" Coltrane's voice was gentler now that I had hold of him, was kneeling down with his cock close enough that I fancied I could feel the heat of it on my face. "Get those lips around it and suck!" The lack of choice here was strangely liberating. I didn't have to decide if I wanted to do this, all I had to do was what I was told. So I leaned over and got my mouth onto his cock. The feel and taste of the glans on my tongue was like tasting leather, except where the precome was, a salty area that stuck to my tongue like a watery glue. My nostrils were filled with the smell of his body, a hot, musky scent I usually associated with the bulls or stallions. Hot maleness waiting to be used to bring new life into being. My mouth oozed saliva at these flavors, these smells, this feel. I used the spit as a lubricant to let me suck on him deeper, take him into my mouth far more than I could have if I'd left him dry. "Yeah, that's the way, that's it, suck my cock, Andy! Suck my cock, take it deeper, do it faster, come on, suck it harder, kid, suck it harder!" I did the best I could and Coltrane moaned, in pleasure and frustration. After a short time of suffering my inexperienced lips on his pud, he groaned and said, "Like this, damn it, suck it like this!" And my head was grabbed in his broad, hairy hands and then my face was being shoved back and forth, instead of sucking him, he was ramming my head up and down so that I sucked like that, just by holding onto his cock as he forced me into his own rhythm of pleasure. Hot, animal grunts slipped from his lips as he forced my movements on his prong, bestial sounds of satisfaction that took no heed of whether I was comfortable or if I was liking what he was doing to me, to my face, to my humanity. I was just a physical convenience to him, and nothing else. The realization of that was...electrifying! I felt a sudden rush of passion into my loins, like I was catching the animalness of this moment, nothing about any of this was about love, or kindness or regard, or any of the human emotions, this was raw rutting that two beings did, and in that rut there was no right or wrong, good or evil, light or darkness. It just...was. I felt that rush of hormones into my cock and got hard as a rock, and I reached down and began to pump my own pud. God, I was hot, so fucking hot! Sucking this big man's dong and jerking my cock, it didn't owe anything to love or romance or relationship. It wasn't even two men enjoying each other, exactly. He ordered, and I obeyed. My getting into it was just a sort of icing on the cake. But I was into it and I pummeled my prick. Coltrane moved his lower foot up and it reached out and touched my scrotum and he wiggled his toes and that jiggled my balls. And that quick, I hit my climax and I creamed all over his leg! I mean, just like some overexcited puppy, I splattered my young love-juice on his hairy masculine leg. The orgasmic explosions in my brain were a revelation, I had never before experienced this strong a climax, so powerful an orgasm, it shook my body to its very core and shattered my very sense of self, causing it to fall back where it had once stood, but not nearly so organized and pigeon-holed anymore, just a pile of rubble that had been my life. I groaned around his hard dong and nearly fainted from the heady sensation, but then I finished, and still panting, looked up at him, fearful, as if squirting my squibs on his leg was going to make him get angry and attack me. But he was amused, regally, as if a king were having sex with a commoner, and knowing that the power he commanded had overwhelmed me. And in that moment of knowledge of self-power, he was charitably forgiving me my transgression. He waited like that until my breaths slowed to a more normal level, then he began to force my head to move on him again, and this time, there was a mechanical element to it. Not to him, his grunts of pig-like pleasure were as loud as before, but now there was no part of it conceding to my own joys, my own needs, it was get him off, damn it, right now, come on, hurry up! The very sounds he made reflect that, they held a commanding tone to them. Instead of uh-uh-uh, they were huh-huh-huh! I felt the heat building in his prick, and knew that he was getting close.