Scarlett and the Yankee CarpetbaggerAct III
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Learning To Let Go, Part III: What The Heart Wants free porn video
They say ignorance is bliss, but that is a lie.
Bliss was the bristle of his beard as it brushed against my lips before we locked our lips in our first kiss.
The Background:
After I gave Josh road head on the way up to North Carolina, it was like the flood gates had opened. I sucked him off again that night in his bed as I jerked myself off. After skiing the next day, he wanted me to give him another blowjob in the shower and again that night as he stood in front of the tv and yet again on the drive home.
At work, he constantly wanted head and I was all-too-happy to oblige. I couldn’t get enough of his cock and he couldn’t get enough of my mouth. There was never a time anymore that we jerked off together that didn’t end with me swallowing his cum directly from his dick. I sucked him off in crawl-out spaces under houses, in attics above townhomes, while he sat on the tailgate of his truck in a garage, sometimes on the interstate headed to distant properties, and -- of course -- at the office when everyone else had gone home.
But even then, I had started to get the feeling I was just a means to an end. I knew his wife had self-image issues and even before any of this had started, he would complain about how she typically didn’t want sex because she didn’t feel attractive, no matter what he did. I never expected for our friendship with benefits to be anything more than that, but I had started to wonder over the next month if it had become more benefits than friendship.
There was a good week and a half where Josh had fallen ill and, at one point, ended up going to urgent care to see what was wrong. It turned out to be a non-emergency, but he still had to be put on bedrest for a number of days. I kept checking in on him to make sure he was okay and I got a text one Sunday afternoon where he said he was finally feeling better. We had a two-man job that needed to be done, so I sent him a text to see if he wanted to ride together from his house, since it was on the way. He confirmed and I felt elated that he was both doing better and would be with me again in the morning.
I pulled up to Josh’s house to find him in the garage with the door open, moving some things around. I stepped out of my Ranger and walked up his driveway as he stood, smiling broadly.
As we got close, I spread my arms for a hug and said, “God, it’s good to see you.” He opened his arms in return and closed the distance for the hug, but my eagerness got the better of me. As we embraced, I turned my head towards him and ended up with my mouth next to his, the hairs of his beard on my lips. We held the hug for a few seconds and he released me, blushing intensely and slightly rubbing the spot where my lips had been.
“Sorry,” I said with a bit of a laugh, “Guess I was more excited to see you than I thought.”
He shrugged and simply said, “It’s fine,” but I could tell it seemed to make him uncomfortable, so I made a mental note to keep some of my urges in check.
We took his truck and headed to one of the properties, where new water lines needed to be installed running from the water heater to the kitchen. Once the day was done, I told him I’d treat him to a late lunch and a beer at TacoMac and he readily accepted.
We had finished our lunch and were sipping our beers when he caught me staring into his eyes and he asked with a raised brow what was on my mind.
I told him, “Just recognizing how great it’s been working with you. I really appreciate all your hard work and I have to admit how much I like spending time with you.” He nodded and shrugged, saying, “Well, I appreciate the extra income. My mechanic work gets busy sometimes, but this works really well for when the cars start to slow down or I have to wait for parts.”
I nodded and -- perhaps sensing I was a little disappointed in his answer -- he continued, “But I have to say, you’ve been my favorite person to work with.”
That perked me up considerably. “Yeah?” I asked. He looked down at his beer, seeming to reflect on our experiences together, and said, “Yeah.” He looked up at me said, a bit of a smile on the edge of his lips, “I can’t say I’ve ever looked forward to coming to work so much before.”
I couldn’t resist. A broad smile broke out on my face and he gave one in return. “Me too,” I admitted.
After a few moments, a silence seemed to creep in. I must have had a certain expression on my face, because Josh then said, that brow raising again, “What?”
I glanced around and then said in a hushed voice, “If I wasn’t actively repressing my bisexuality, I’d kiss you right on the mouth.” He blushed again and shook his head, then paused and said, “Is that a quote from Community?”
I laughed out loud and said, “Yeah, sort of, I didn’t know if you’d catch it.” He chuckled and shook his head, still blushing, before meeting my gaze once more. Our smiles faded and we ended up just staring into each other’s eyes, one part apprehensive and one part curious.
Josh finished off his beer and then nodded toward the door and said, somewhat abruptly, “You ready to go?” I simply nodded and finished my own, then followed him out.
The Good Stuff:
We climbed into the cab of his F-250 and he reached forward to put the keys in the ignition when he paused and then brought them back down again to his lap, looking down at the steering wheel.
“Did you try to kiss me this morning?”
I couldn’t tell if his tone was accusatory or simply an inquiry, but my heart was instantly racing. I could feel myself panicking, worried again that I had gone too far. It seemed a strange thing to think trying to kiss him would make him upset after what we had done already, but there was still that part of me that worried he would react badly. I took a deep breath and said, as steadily as possible, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, if I did. It won’t happen again, if that’s what you want.”
The next few moments seemed to stretch on for an eternity. I could tell even his heat was racing. He closed his eyes and said, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
Unsure of what do to, I leaned over and gently placed my hand on his. “Whatever will put you at ease, I’ll do.”
Surprisingly, he flipped his hand around to give mine a squeeze for a few seconds before opening his eyes and turning towards me, a look of desperate yearning in them that I had never seen before.
“Kiss me.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I slid across his F-250’s bench seat toward him and leaned over as he ever so slightly began to lean toward me. I closed the distance and gently kissed him on the cheek, just above the edge of his chin, where the whiskers of his beard brushed slightly against my lips.
He released a little laugh and said, “That’s not what I meant.”
Keeping my lips against his cheek I said, “Look who’s eager now,” which made him laugh a little again. I made small pecks against his skin and his beard as I slowly kissed my way toward his mouth. Once I got to the edge of his lips, he couldn’t resist any longer and turned, locking his mouth on mine.
I had expected Josh to want to take things slow, to ease himself into sexuality with another guy, and perhaps that was what the previous months had been about: allowing himself to come to terms with how much he enjoyed being sexually stimulated by another man. But this was different. I could feel his walls crumbling as his breath wafted across my cheek and I felt our tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths, our lips passionately creating an ebb and flow of red blooded fervor.
I reflexively wrapped my right hand around the side of his neck at the base of his chin, pulling him closer as he let out a soft sigh through his nose. I felt him place his left hand on my chest before sliding it around to my side, letting his hand wander all over my back as we continued to passionately kiss.
Suddenly, we heard someone outside the truck let out a surprised gasp and we pulled ourselves apart to see an older woman standing at her car in the spot ahead of us, staring at us for a few seconds before sheepishly turning and getting into her vehicle. Josh and I broke out into laughter, each of us blushing, and I scooted back to the passenger seat as he started the engine.
As he drove, I slid my hand up his arm to the inside of his shirt and caressed the skin on his upper arm, shoulder and chest as we drove back to his house in a surprisingly enjoyable silence, periodically looking over at each other with awkward smiles. Part of me wanted to scoot across the bench toward him and give him road head yet again, but the rest of me wanted to savor this feeling of a bond that was more than just sex, so I simply reveled in the sensation of my skin on his for something that wasn’t simply sensual.
When we got back to his house, I climbed out of his truck and turned to head to my pickup, knowing his wife would be home soon with his son. Suddenly he called over, “Hang on, don’t head off yet.” I turned and followed him into the garage, where he pressed the button to close the door. We stood a few feet apart, watching the door until it pressed down onto the concrete. As soon as the door came to a halt, we turned to each other and quickly rushed back into each other’s arms, our mouths hungry for another taste of the other man’s lips and tongue.
Mere seconds into our renewed frenzy, he guided me to the wall of the garage where he began pressing his body against mine. I could feel my erection digging into his upper leg and I could feel his doing the same to me. We began thrusting our manhoods into each other, a back and forth rhythm of building tension, our hands wrapped around us and snaking every curve and bend.
I eventually broke my mouth from his and started to kiss my way across his bearded chin to his ear, where I used my tongue to pull the lobe into my mouth and began to nibble on it, gently tugging with my teeth. He let out a breathy exhale, saying, “Oh, God,” and I reached up with my hand to rake my fingers through his hair. I released his ear from my mouth, but he then pressed his lips pressed to mine as he whispered a confession: “I want to suck your cock.”
My answer was my hands reaching down and instantly beginning to undo my belt. He stepped back a bit and spun us around, shoving me against the garage wall as he leaned in and kissed me again briefly before grabbing me by the waist and dropping to his knees.
My belt released, I unbuttoned my pants and opened the fly. He lunged forward with his face, pressing it against my boxer-briefs and feeling my hard cock on the other side of the fabric. He started using his lips to stimulate my shaft through my underwear before taking them and my pants by the waist and pulling them down.
My erection sprung forward and my balls tensed, yanking upward towards the shaft before relaxing and descending again. Rather than attempting to drag things out anymore, he drove his head forward, taking me into his mouth. I let out a strained, exasperated, “Oh, fuck,” as he started gliding his mouth up and down my cock, keeping his lips taut against the skin as his left hand held steady at the base of my cock and his right hand fondled my balls.
As he slid me in and out of his mouth, sometimes stopping to just lick the head and shaft, he looked up at me from below. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, just relishing the feeling of a dick in his mouth, but other times he raised his head and watched me as he serviced my cock, his eyes becoming burning lamps of desire.
He reached down and undid his own pants, opening the fly and pulling his dick out through the front flap of his boxers, stroking himself with his right hand as his left went back up to the base of his cock, holding it tightly as he placed pressure against the top of his ball sack.
“I love your cock,” he admitted, looking up at me as he took me into his greedy mouth again. My face now flushed with arousal, I began gently pumping my dick into him as I looked down at him and said, almost breathlessly, “I love the feel of your mouth,” at which point I reached both my hands forward and placed them on the back of his head, holding them firmly there as I focused on my task.
He began to massage me between his lips as he worked his tongue along the shaft and my breathing reached a rapid pitch. My words a half whisper, half growl, I cried, “I’m gonna cum.” He tightened both his grips -- the one on my dick and the one on his own -- as we both began pumping our hips in anticipation for the final release.
Suddenly, I held his head in place as I began fucking his face and releasing grunts with each thrust. He dropped both his hands to his own crotch, putting pressure on the top of his sack as he stroked his dick and did everything he could to keep from gagging on mine.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried as I closed my eyes and lifted my head as my thrusts began to slow. He raised himself on his knees and brought his left hand up to my balls again, tugging on them gently as I gave a throaty moan and my cum pumped directly into his mouth. He released a growling moan of his own as the sensation brought him to his own climax. I slid my dick out of his mouth and he tilted his head down, and spilled my sperm out of his mouth onto his shaft as he stroked it deliberately, using my cum as lube until he spewed his own ejaculate, which landed across the leg of his jeans and jetted onto the concrete.
I looked down and reacted with a bit of surprise to this mess we made as I said, “Oh, uh...do you need something to wipe off?”
He looked around and saw that his cum had left an obvious wet stain across his jeans and some was still gooey on his fingers. He blushed as he stood and shrugged as he secured his pants, saying, “Eh, I’ll just toss ‘em in the laundry.” I clapped my right hand on his neck as I drew him forward and gave him another peck on the lips, tasting some of my cum there.
I smirked and said, “This was fun, we should do it again sometime.” He smiled and nodded, saying, “Definitely.” He paused and then continued, “Listen, my wife’s going to be home soon with our son-”
“Don’t worry, I can be discreet,” I told him before adding, “I’m not looking to mess up your situation.”
“Okay, thanks,” he remarked, a look of relief on his face. “I mean, this is great and everything-”
I put up a hand to calm him and said, “Josh. Being friends with benefits is fine by me, I just want to make sure it’s about the friendship as much as the benefits.” Instead of answering, he just nodded again, a small smile on his face.
I leaned in and kissed him again, lingering on his lips a little longer this time and said, “See you later.”
He reached over and pressed the button to open the garage as he said, “See ya.”
To be honest, part of me ached at how casual our parting was. To me, that was an amazing moment of intimacy and bonding between two men. I couldn’t tell if he felt the same and just wasn’t comfortable admitting it or -- as it can be with so many closeted, married men -- if it really was just a means to an end for him.
As I climbed into my truck and drove away, each of us waving the other off, I didn’t know which I preferred. If it was just a means to an end between two friends, I could probably come to terms with it, even if it left me a little disappointed. But if he felt about me the same way I felt about him -- the way I sometimes spent my weekends looking forward to being at work because it might mean being with him -- then what?
Bliss was the bristle of his beard as it brushed against my lips before we locked our lips in our first kiss.
The Background:
After I gave Josh road head on the way up to North Carolina, it was like the flood gates had opened. I sucked him off again that night in his bed as I jerked myself off. After skiing the next day, he wanted me to give him another blowjob in the shower and again that night as he stood in front of the tv and yet again on the drive home.
At work, he constantly wanted head and I was all-too-happy to oblige. I couldn’t get enough of his cock and he couldn’t get enough of my mouth. There was never a time anymore that we jerked off together that didn’t end with me swallowing his cum directly from his dick. I sucked him off in crawl-out spaces under houses, in attics above townhomes, while he sat on the tailgate of his truck in a garage, sometimes on the interstate headed to distant properties, and -- of course -- at the office when everyone else had gone home.
But even then, I had started to get the feeling I was just a means to an end. I knew his wife had self-image issues and even before any of this had started, he would complain about how she typically didn’t want sex because she didn’t feel attractive, no matter what he did. I never expected for our friendship with benefits to be anything more than that, but I had started to wonder over the next month if it had become more benefits than friendship.
There was a good week and a half where Josh had fallen ill and, at one point, ended up going to urgent care to see what was wrong. It turned out to be a non-emergency, but he still had to be put on bedrest for a number of days. I kept checking in on him to make sure he was okay and I got a text one Sunday afternoon where he said he was finally feeling better. We had a two-man job that needed to be done, so I sent him a text to see if he wanted to ride together from his house, since it was on the way. He confirmed and I felt elated that he was both doing better and would be with me again in the morning.
I pulled up to Josh’s house to find him in the garage with the door open, moving some things around. I stepped out of my Ranger and walked up his driveway as he stood, smiling broadly.
As we got close, I spread my arms for a hug and said, “God, it’s good to see you.” He opened his arms in return and closed the distance for the hug, but my eagerness got the better of me. As we embraced, I turned my head towards him and ended up with my mouth next to his, the hairs of his beard on my lips. We held the hug for a few seconds and he released me, blushing intensely and slightly rubbing the spot where my lips had been.
“Sorry,” I said with a bit of a laugh, “Guess I was more excited to see you than I thought.”
He shrugged and simply said, “It’s fine,” but I could tell it seemed to make him uncomfortable, so I made a mental note to keep some of my urges in check.
We took his truck and headed to one of the properties, where new water lines needed to be installed running from the water heater to the kitchen. Once the day was done, I told him I’d treat him to a late lunch and a beer at TacoMac and he readily accepted.
We had finished our lunch and were sipping our beers when he caught me staring into his eyes and he asked with a raised brow what was on my mind.
I told him, “Just recognizing how great it’s been working with you. I really appreciate all your hard work and I have to admit how much I like spending time with you.” He nodded and shrugged, saying, “Well, I appreciate the extra income. My mechanic work gets busy sometimes, but this works really well for when the cars start to slow down or I have to wait for parts.”
I nodded and -- perhaps sensing I was a little disappointed in his answer -- he continued, “But I have to say, you’ve been my favorite person to work with.”
That perked me up considerably. “Yeah?” I asked. He looked down at his beer, seeming to reflect on our experiences together, and said, “Yeah.” He looked up at me said, a bit of a smile on the edge of his lips, “I can’t say I’ve ever looked forward to coming to work so much before.”
I couldn’t resist. A broad smile broke out on my face and he gave one in return. “Me too,” I admitted.
After a few moments, a silence seemed to creep in. I must have had a certain expression on my face, because Josh then said, that brow raising again, “What?”
I glanced around and then said in a hushed voice, “If I wasn’t actively repressing my bisexuality, I’d kiss you right on the mouth.” He blushed again and shook his head, then paused and said, “Is that a quote from Community?”
I laughed out loud and said, “Yeah, sort of, I didn’t know if you’d catch it.” He chuckled and shook his head, still blushing, before meeting my gaze once more. Our smiles faded and we ended up just staring into each other’s eyes, one part apprehensive and one part curious.
Josh finished off his beer and then nodded toward the door and said, somewhat abruptly, “You ready to go?” I simply nodded and finished my own, then followed him out.
The Good Stuff:
We climbed into the cab of his F-250 and he reached forward to put the keys in the ignition when he paused and then brought them back down again to his lap, looking down at the steering wheel.
“Did you try to kiss me this morning?”
I couldn’t tell if his tone was accusatory or simply an inquiry, but my heart was instantly racing. I could feel myself panicking, worried again that I had gone too far. It seemed a strange thing to think trying to kiss him would make him upset after what we had done already, but there was still that part of me that worried he would react badly. I took a deep breath and said, as steadily as possible, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, if I did. It won’t happen again, if that’s what you want.”
The next few moments seemed to stretch on for an eternity. I could tell even his heat was racing. He closed his eyes and said, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”
Unsure of what do to, I leaned over and gently placed my hand on his. “Whatever will put you at ease, I’ll do.”
Surprisingly, he flipped his hand around to give mine a squeeze for a few seconds before opening his eyes and turning towards me, a look of desperate yearning in them that I had never seen before.
“Kiss me.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I slid across his F-250’s bench seat toward him and leaned over as he ever so slightly began to lean toward me. I closed the distance and gently kissed him on the cheek, just above the edge of his chin, where the whiskers of his beard brushed slightly against my lips.
He released a little laugh and said, “That’s not what I meant.”
Keeping my lips against his cheek I said, “Look who’s eager now,” which made him laugh a little again. I made small pecks against his skin and his beard as I slowly kissed my way toward his mouth. Once I got to the edge of his lips, he couldn’t resist any longer and turned, locking his mouth on mine.
I had expected Josh to want to take things slow, to ease himself into sexuality with another guy, and perhaps that was what the previous months had been about: allowing himself to come to terms with how much he enjoyed being sexually stimulated by another man. But this was different. I could feel his walls crumbling as his breath wafted across my cheek and I felt our tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths, our lips passionately creating an ebb and flow of red blooded fervor.
I reflexively wrapped my right hand around the side of his neck at the base of his chin, pulling him closer as he let out a soft sigh through his nose. I felt him place his left hand on my chest before sliding it around to my side, letting his hand wander all over my back as we continued to passionately kiss.
Suddenly, we heard someone outside the truck let out a surprised gasp and we pulled ourselves apart to see an older woman standing at her car in the spot ahead of us, staring at us for a few seconds before sheepishly turning and getting into her vehicle. Josh and I broke out into laughter, each of us blushing, and I scooted back to the passenger seat as he started the engine.
As he drove, I slid my hand up his arm to the inside of his shirt and caressed the skin on his upper arm, shoulder and chest as we drove back to his house in a surprisingly enjoyable silence, periodically looking over at each other with awkward smiles. Part of me wanted to scoot across the bench toward him and give him road head yet again, but the rest of me wanted to savor this feeling of a bond that was more than just sex, so I simply reveled in the sensation of my skin on his for something that wasn’t simply sensual.
When we got back to his house, I climbed out of his truck and turned to head to my pickup, knowing his wife would be home soon with his son. Suddenly he called over, “Hang on, don’t head off yet.” I turned and followed him into the garage, where he pressed the button to close the door. We stood a few feet apart, watching the door until it pressed down onto the concrete. As soon as the door came to a halt, we turned to each other and quickly rushed back into each other’s arms, our mouths hungry for another taste of the other man’s lips and tongue.
Mere seconds into our renewed frenzy, he guided me to the wall of the garage where he began pressing his body against mine. I could feel my erection digging into his upper leg and I could feel his doing the same to me. We began thrusting our manhoods into each other, a back and forth rhythm of building tension, our hands wrapped around us and snaking every curve and bend.
I eventually broke my mouth from his and started to kiss my way across his bearded chin to his ear, where I used my tongue to pull the lobe into my mouth and began to nibble on it, gently tugging with my teeth. He let out a breathy exhale, saying, “Oh, God,” and I reached up with my hand to rake my fingers through his hair. I released his ear from my mouth, but he then pressed his lips pressed to mine as he whispered a confession: “I want to suck your cock.”
My answer was my hands reaching down and instantly beginning to undo my belt. He stepped back a bit and spun us around, shoving me against the garage wall as he leaned in and kissed me again briefly before grabbing me by the waist and dropping to his knees.
My belt released, I unbuttoned my pants and opened the fly. He lunged forward with his face, pressing it against my boxer-briefs and feeling my hard cock on the other side of the fabric. He started using his lips to stimulate my shaft through my underwear before taking them and my pants by the waist and pulling them down.
My erection sprung forward and my balls tensed, yanking upward towards the shaft before relaxing and descending again. Rather than attempting to drag things out anymore, he drove his head forward, taking me into his mouth. I let out a strained, exasperated, “Oh, fuck,” as he started gliding his mouth up and down my cock, keeping his lips taut against the skin as his left hand held steady at the base of my cock and his right hand fondled my balls.
As he slid me in and out of his mouth, sometimes stopping to just lick the head and shaft, he looked up at me from below. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, just relishing the feeling of a dick in his mouth, but other times he raised his head and watched me as he serviced my cock, his eyes becoming burning lamps of desire.
He reached down and undid his own pants, opening the fly and pulling his dick out through the front flap of his boxers, stroking himself with his right hand as his left went back up to the base of his cock, holding it tightly as he placed pressure against the top of his ball sack.
“I love your cock,” he admitted, looking up at me as he took me into his greedy mouth again. My face now flushed with arousal, I began gently pumping my dick into him as I looked down at him and said, almost breathlessly, “I love the feel of your mouth,” at which point I reached both my hands forward and placed them on the back of his head, holding them firmly there as I focused on my task.
He began to massage me between his lips as he worked his tongue along the shaft and my breathing reached a rapid pitch. My words a half whisper, half growl, I cried, “I’m gonna cum.” He tightened both his grips -- the one on my dick and the one on his own -- as we both began pumping our hips in anticipation for the final release.
Suddenly, I held his head in place as I began fucking his face and releasing grunts with each thrust. He dropped both his hands to his own crotch, putting pressure on the top of his sack as he stroked his dick and did everything he could to keep from gagging on mine.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried as I closed my eyes and lifted my head as my thrusts began to slow. He raised himself on his knees and brought his left hand up to my balls again, tugging on them gently as I gave a throaty moan and my cum pumped directly into his mouth. He released a growling moan of his own as the sensation brought him to his own climax. I slid my dick out of his mouth and he tilted his head down, and spilled my sperm out of his mouth onto his shaft as he stroked it deliberately, using my cum as lube until he spewed his own ejaculate, which landed across the leg of his jeans and jetted onto the concrete.
I looked down and reacted with a bit of surprise to this mess we made as I said, “Oh, uh...do you need something to wipe off?”
He looked around and saw that his cum had left an obvious wet stain across his jeans and some was still gooey on his fingers. He blushed as he stood and shrugged as he secured his pants, saying, “Eh, I’ll just toss ‘em in the laundry.” I clapped my right hand on his neck as I drew him forward and gave him another peck on the lips, tasting some of my cum there.
I smirked and said, “This was fun, we should do it again sometime.” He smiled and nodded, saying, “Definitely.” He paused and then continued, “Listen, my wife’s going to be home soon with our son-”
“Don’t worry, I can be discreet,” I told him before adding, “I’m not looking to mess up your situation.”
“Okay, thanks,” he remarked, a look of relief on his face. “I mean, this is great and everything-”
I put up a hand to calm him and said, “Josh. Being friends with benefits is fine by me, I just want to make sure it’s about the friendship as much as the benefits.” Instead of answering, he just nodded again, a small smile on his face.
I leaned in and kissed him again, lingering on his lips a little longer this time and said, “See you later.”
He reached over and pressed the button to open the garage as he said, “See ya.”
To be honest, part of me ached at how casual our parting was. To me, that was an amazing moment of intimacy and bonding between two men. I couldn’t tell if he felt the same and just wasn’t comfortable admitting it or -- as it can be with so many closeted, married men -- if it really was just a means to an end for him.
As I climbed into my truck and drove away, each of us waving the other off, I didn’t know which I preferred. If it was just a means to an end between two friends, I could probably come to terms with it, even if it left me a little disappointed. But if he felt about me the same way I felt about him -- the way I sometimes spent my weekends looking forward to being at work because it might mean being with him -- then what?
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