Page 29 of Return to Telegraph Creek

“Fuck,” I said, suddenly understanding why Oscar liked me to talk like that.“Maybe,” I grunted.“I don’t know.I can’t think right now.”

He grinned.“Well, you don’t gotta think.You just gotta pay attention—because I want to show you how hard it is to hold off when you’re told you can’t spend.”

“But I… Oscar, I beeninjured,” I whined, and gasped as he teased me with his fingers.

“Not in your cock or your balls.I don’t know what a slice in your side’s got to do with obeyin’ me.”

He switched hands and worked me harder, making me groan and causing sparks to light up in my balls and my gut.I didn’t know if I was gonna be able to hold off or not.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, spellbound by the sight of Oscar’s talented hands on my cock, all shiny with oil, and the sheer poetic beauty of it all about sent me o’er.I wrapped a hand around his wrist and stilled him.

“Now that’s cheatin’,” he pouted.

I made a face and held myself together by a force of sheer will.When I opened my eyes, I fixed him with my gaze.

“Now look.You’re a pro at this game, and I ain’t.Please make me spend?Please?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, but he shrugged.“Fine.Let it be noted that you ain’t very good at doing what you’re told—not as good as me, anyway.”

“I’ll never be as good as you,” I said, with a sheer sincerity that brought a blush to Oscar’s cheeks.

“No,” he said, shaking my hand off his wrist and resuming his work.“You won’t.You wanna spend, then spend.I wanna see your fine cock shoot spunk up to the ceiling, though, when you do it.”

Oscar’s words sent a bolt of lightning through my dick, and he hadn’t given me three strokes before I spurted in his hands with a cry, like a hose shooting water when you weren’t expecting it.

“Aww, hell,” Oscar breathed as he watched my cock overflow in his fist, globs of white spend spattering his knuckles and landing on my hip, as I panted and groaned and whimpered.Oscar had aimed my dick so I didn’t ruin Miss June’s clean bandages, and I was grateful for that.

Oscar released my cock and gathered Gus’s shirt up in his clean hand as he kneeled up.He used his spunk-covered fingers to point his cock at my bare thigh and hip, and he brought himself off in a matter of moments, his own spend mixing with mine.

He was so beautiful to watch, his drying hair falling o’er his forehead, his mouth open and eyes closed as he made staccato cries of “Ah, ah, ah” and spent on me in desperate bursts.

“Oh,” he said, milking the last few drops as he watched me with an apologetic smile.“Sorry.I couldn’t help myself.”

“Oscar, don’t apologize.That was the loveliest thing to watch.”

“’Twas?Truly?”he said, grabbing a cloth and drying his hand.

“Oh yeah.Trust me.Anytime you wanna do that, you go right ahead.”I frowned and scratched my chin.“Well, unless I’ve forbidden you to spend, of course.”

“Of course.I wouldn’t even dream of disobeyin’ you, Jimmy.”

I grinned.“Oh no, I know it.You’re such a good boy when I’m dominatin’ you, ain’t you?”I said, reaching out to swipe some spunk off my skin and holding my finger in front of Oscar’s lips.

Oscar sighed, opened his mouth and took my finger inside the wet warmth of it, sucking the juice off and closing his eyes.

“Goddammit,” I whispered.“You’re gonna get me all randy again.”

But just then, there was a knock at the door, interrupting us.

“I’m sorry to disturb you fellas, but I need my oil back.”

’Twas Trick’s voice, and Oscar rolled his eyes.

“Figures,” he said.

He made his way off the bed, let the shirt fall so it covered his bits and picked up the little bottle from the side table.He walked to the door and opened it a crack, passing the oil to Trick.

“Here… I don’t need it no more,” he said with some smugness.