Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

After the forty-five-minute drive into the Virginia countryside during which Grant jacked me, I gave him a blow job, and I rode his cock, facing him, my knees pressed into the fold where seat back met seat cushion on either side of his hips, several hours of the remaining day, with a single exception, were downright staid—just what anyone would expect on a first date.

Except that my date was with two randy men, not one or with a woman.

"You had expressed an interest in sporting events, and Nash breeds and trains horses, so we thought you'd enjoy seeing a horse show and auction." He'd seen the little smile I'd given when he'd said that as we got out of the backseat of the Mustang. Nash had popped out of the front seat and was striding toward a big horse barn with a riding ring behind it. Cars were parked haphazardly in the field Nash had parked in and people already were lining the rails of the riding ring. Beyond them I could see horses in the ring and handlers guiding them around.

"I see you reacted to Nash, horses, and breeding. Is that what attracted you to our profile on the dating service Web site? You clicked on interest in us first. We would have clicked on you—your photo and all of those kinks you were interested in—if you hadn't shown interest in us first. Your attention was arrested by riding and breeding and how Nash was hung?"

"I was attracted by how both of you are hung," I said. I surprised myself when I said that. I was determined to "get into" this date, even though it already was well outside my experience zone.

He laughed and drew me to him and gave me a sloppy kiss on the lips. I looked quickly around to see if we'd been observed, but all of the attention seemed to be concentrated on what was going on in the riding ring.

"Never fear as far as Nash is concerned," he said. "Before the night is done, he will ride you and breed you. We won you in an auction, and we're going to wear you out."

A shudder went up my spine—but one of anticipation and exhilaration.

By the time we got to the riding ring, Nash was already inside, leading a magnificent brute of a pure-white stallion around the ring. As they walked, the stallion must have seen a mare he wanted, because suddenly a thick pink tube of a cock started expanding between his hindquarters to become the definition of "horse-hung" cock. There were murmurs and snickers in the crowd, as Nash fought—and won—a struggle by the horse to get away from him and pursue its interests.

Two men, an older one and a much younger, were at the rail beside Grant and me. They were standing close, the older—obviously wealthy one—had a hand lightly pressed to the younger one's back. They were close enough to me that I could hear them converse.

"A magnificent beast," the younger one said, gesturing to where Nash was leading the stallion. "I'd love to ride that one."

"The stallion or the man?" the older one asked.

"They are both stallions, James," the younger one said, with a light laugh. "I was speaking of the horse. I've already been ridden by the man. A magnificent beast as well. Thickest cock I've ever taken. And he could ride all night."

The older man gave the younger one a sour look, turned away from him, and took a step away.

"Give over, James," the younger man said. "It was just a joke. Come back."

"Just a joke that Chuck Hastings has fucked you?"

"No, that part isn't a joke," the young man said. "Not a joke at all. Couldn't walk straight for two days."

The older man snorted and continued walking away.

So, his name wasn't really Nash, I thought. I guess I should have assumed that. I wasn't Ty either. I was Travis.

I turned back to watching Nash, if that's what he wanted to be called, in the ring. It was true that he was a magnificent beast. And to think that sometime in the next few hours he'd be fucking me. It caused me to go half hard and to tremble at the thought.

It didn't happen in the next few hours, though. After the auction, Nash went back to the car and brought a duffle bag from the trunk.

"There's someplace for us to change in the stable," he said, as he led us into a cavernous barn and on to a series of workrooms in a wing off the room with the horse stalls. The last in line was a well appointed office and tack room.

"Change?" I asked.

"Yes," Grant answered. "We going to play dress-up for the next stops."

The next stops.

We were all nearly naked and ready to put on the smart dinner clothes they were providing, knowing my sizes precisely—tailored trousers, light cashmere turtle-neck sweaters, and camel-hair jackets—when Nash, who I couldn't help but noticing was hard, muttered, "Fuck it, my balls ache from waiting," and pushed me down on my knees in front of him. "Suck it."

"Here? Won't we be seen? Does the stable owner—?" It wasn't that I was unwilling. It just was all so open.

"I own the stable, and who the fuck cares if we're seen?"

"You said you were interested in exhibitionism." The voice came from behind me. Grant. They'd read my profile closely. Maybe too closely, I thought.

It almost unhinged my jaw to take Nash in my mouth. But take him I did. I even took him when, like the stallion earlier, his cock elongated significantly as I gagged, trying to deep throat it. He placed his hands on the back of my head and guided the face-fucking motion. Grant came in close behind me, rubbed his hard cock on my neck and cheeks from behind, and reached down and twisted my nipples with his fingers, while I writhed between them and, after several minutes, took Nash's cum in my throat.