All of the Voices (7 page)

“Those other guys were fools, turning down a big dick like this.” Then Carlin looked at him and licked the pre cum off his thumb, and Matt whimpered, something he’d never thought he’d do and would be plenty embarrassed about later.

“You taste so good,” Carlin purred as his lids lowered. “Fuck, Matt, I’ve never been the biggest cum-slut, but I could drink yours every day for the rest of my life.”

“I would—” Matt gasped as Carlin bent down and swallowed half his cock. Carlin slipped one hand under Matt’s shirt and cupped Matt’s balls with the other, and Matt made a sound without words that meant
I’d be happy to let you do it every day for the rest of my life
and
Please, oh my fucking God, don’t stop!

* * * *

Carlin had received more blowjobs than he’d ever be able to remember, but he did remember the excellent ones and so he applied those techniques as he sucked down Matt’s cock. Thick, long and heavily veined, topped with a broad crown and a narrow slit, it really was the most perfect penis he’d ever seen or sucked. And he’d dearly love to feel it splitting his ass wide open.

ALL OF THE VOICES

Bailey Bradford

40

He tongued the sensitive bundle of nerves below Matt’s cockhead and was rewarded with a grunt and two big hands fisting in his hair.
Yes! Fuck my mouth, Matt, do it!
All the control Carlin insisted on having during sex was absent. He wanted Matt to plunge into his mouth, fuck into his throat, take the release the man so clearly needed.

And Carlin wanted to wipe the memories of those other two idiots from Matt’s mind, but he didn’t care to examine wide. Instead he hummed around the thick stalk in his mouth and tugged at the fur on Matt’s balls. Matt bellowed and gave Carlin what he wanted, shoving his dick into Carlin’s mouth and throat, bucking his hips erratically as Carlin swallowed around the fat cap.

Carlin sucked back up the length of Matt’s dick, tracing a vein with his tongue as he slid his other hand up Matt’s belly. He purred his approval of the thick treasure trail, then nearly lost his rhythm when he encountered the ridged scar on Matt’s stomach.

Matt stiffened for a moment, but Carlin kept his hand moving and delved his tongue into Matt’s slit, then Matt was gasping and pulling Carlin’s head down, filling his mouth and throat. He found the dense pelt of hair on Matt’s chest and wanted the man so bad he could have screamed.

“F-fuck, gonna…” Matt thrust hard and deep, and it was the best blowjob Carlin had ever given, at least on his end. He pressed his palm against Matt’s balls and plucked at one of his nipples, and Matt’s cock spewed like a geyser into Carlin’s mouth. He swallowed the first creamy spurt, then let the second and third coat his tongue until another shot of cum made swallowing a necessity.

Matt groaned, his trim thighs quivering. Carlin glanced up and felt smug at the dazed look on Matt’s face. He laved Matt’s cock until he’d got every drop of spunk off it, then placed a kiss on the tip.

Now it was time to take care of his own dick before it burst. Carlin stood and unbuttoned his pants then fished his leaking dick out of his underwear. Matt sat up, his eyes lighting with appreciation echoed by his words.

“Jesus, look at you. Perfect.”

Carlin was only gripping his shaft and already he was panting, needing to come so bad his balls ached. “Look all you want, but I have to…god damn, you’ve got me so hot, I just need—”

Matt hitched his underwear up even as he slid out of the car. “Let me, please.”

ALL OF THE VOICES

Bailey Bradford

41

Carlin stopped mid-stroke and tried to decipher Matt’s expression. Lust, yeah, but there was something else, a concerned look or maybe guilt. Carlin thought over what Matt had told him about his limited experiences with men. Hadn’t he said he’d blown that asswipe he worked with, but had never had a guy suck his cock in return? Carlin had a bad feeling former deputy dickwad had taken his pleasure with Matt’s mouth then left him kneeling and needing.

And hurt, though he doubted Matt would admit it. No one liked feeling used, or at least, no one Carlin knew. Carlin let go of his cock. “You don’t have to do anything, but if there’s something you want to do, not that you feel obligated to do, then go for it.”

Whatever ill feeling Matt had been dealing with seemed to melt away as he reached for Carlin’s waistband. He shoved Carlin’s jeans and underwear down to his knees, gripped the base of Carlin’s cock in his fist, then dropped to his knees and sucked the crown of his shaft into his mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Carlin shouted. This was going to be over before he could enjoy it!

Matt pulled off his tip long enough to mutter, “Unbutton my shirt. Want you to shoot on me.”

Carlin couldn’t even shout, couldn’t get the breath to do so as he reached with trembling fingers to unbutton Matt’s shirt. The first sight of that thick dark hair appeared on Matt’s chest and Carlin couldn’t resist brushing his fingers over it. Matt’s hand fisted his dick tighter, as if he knew Carlin was about to come just from touching that fur. Carlin unbuttoned Matt’s shirt as much as he could then shoved it open.

“Oh my God,” Carlin rasped, having found his voice, his breath, his perfect man. “I want to feel that against my back, my chest, want to rub my face in it.”

Matt looked shocked for all of a second then he snickered. “Well, right now you’re gonna spray your spunk all over it.”

“Fuck, yes, really soon. You make me so…”

Matt sucked Carlin’s crown back into his mouth and began loosely fisting the rest of Carlin’s cock. Carlin started to babble. For all his verbal restraint and carefully chosen words in the courtroom, he had no such ability when it came to sex, especially not when it was this fucking good.

ALL OF THE VOICES

Bailey Bradford

42

“Matt, honey, yes! Take it…ah!” Carlin gasped as his dick was gripped tighter, the dry strokes almost painful and exactly what he needed at this moment. “God, just like that, teeth, need—fuck!”

Carlin jerked as Matt scraped his teeth over the rim of Carlin’s crown. “Now! Fucking hell!”

Carlin screamed as Matt pulled back and the first stream of cum splattered onto Matt’s dense chest hair. The creamy white string was joined by another, then a third as Carlin started to double over from the force of his climax. He hunched over Matt’s kneeling form until his balls stopped pulsing, then he stood up with one hand braced on Matt’s shoulder.

“Let me see.”

Matt thrust his shoulders back and his chest out. “You want to rub it in?”

Carlin’s dick valiantly tried to rise to no avail. “Definitely. You can help, too, you kinky stud.” He rubbed a glob of semen over one of Matt’s peaked nipples. “Do the other one. I want my cum all over you.”

That was a little more raunchy than Carlin usually got.
Oh shit, I sound like a bad porno.

Can’t help it though. The guy is freaking amazing! Sensual, gorgeous, and willing to get a little kinky.

What idiot would toss him aside?
Carlin ignored the little voice pointing out he’d be going back to New York soon and therefore doing the same thing Rich and the other guy had done to Matt.
Not exactly. He knows I have to go back to New York. He
has
to know that. I’ll tell him just
as—What was that?
Carlin glanced at the trunk of the cruiser. Had he seen something behind the vehicle or was his mind playing tricks on him?

Not tricks, he realised seconds later as a blur of red feathers and sharp claws or talons—

whatever chicken toes were called—hell if he knew. Carlin would have warned Matt more efficiently if he’d been able to articulate what he was seeing. As it was, he screamed, “Look out,” right about the same time the bird dive-bombed Matt.

ALL OF THE VOICES

Bailey Bradford

43

“I hate that fucking rooster!” Matt hissed as Carlin cleaned the gouges left on his back from the rooster’s sneak attack.

Carlin snorted. “And yet you insisted on taking care of them before you’d let me clean your back. I don’t know much about chickens, but I’d bet their feet are filthy.”

“Wouldn’t have been any sense in you playing doctor then me going back out there and getting torn up again,” Matt pointed out. “I don’t understand why that chicken hates me. I’ve never done anything other than feed and water the sorry bird, and carefully try to extract myself from his presence. I just don’t get it.”

“It’s a chicken,” Carlin pointed out, “and therefore not very smart. Or not smart at all.

They probably have a brain the size of a pinhead or something.”

“We could fact check, find out for sure.” Sounded like a grand idea to him.

Carlin opened the tube of antibacterial cream and squeezed some onto his finger. “You mean, Google it or something like that? I don’t really care enough to bother.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of cracking that damned rooster’s head open.”

“That’s really…gross. I think I’m going to pass on that suggestion as well. Besides, Aunt Mary loved Robbie Red. Talked about him all the time when I called her.”

Matt looked over his shoulder at Carlin. “You’re shitting me, right? Mrs. Hawkins didn’t really name him, did she?” Why hadn’t he known that?

“She really did,” Carlin said as he slathered more ointment on Matt’s back. “Robbie really did a number on you. I had no idea chickens could be so vicious. I’ll feel like a real man next time I sit down and have my favourite chicken dinner.”

“You only get the real man creds if you kill the chicken yourself,” Matt said. “As for vicious chickens, that little red bastard is a Rhode Island Red. Most of them are regular ol’

chickens, nice enough if you think of chickens that way. But occasionally some of them are aggressive. There’s even been cases where a Rhode Island Red killed a small dog or fox if it invaded the rooster’s territory.”

Carlin stepped in front of him and shuddered. “Great, so I actually have a killer rooster, that’s what you’re telling me. Wonder why Robbie Red didn’t try to get me too?”

ALL OF THE VOICES

Bailey Bradford

44

Matt grinned at his lover. “You’re just too cute. Or maybe the rooster was afraid of getting sued.”

“More like getting stewed,” Carlin deadpanned.

Matt groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. “I can’t believe you said that. If I thought you meant it I’d ask when dinner was, if I ate chicken.”

“You don’t eat chicken?”

“Nope.” Matt nearly laughed at the disbelieving look Carlin gave him. He slapped a hand over his heart. “I swear. Used to have to help my grandpa with his chickens when I was a kid. I can’t tell you how many times I got pecked or scratched, but I decided back then I didn’t like chickens and haven’t eaten any since.”

“I guess I can understand that, though I’d probably have gone to the other extreme and eaten as much chicken as I possibly could have.” Carlin looked around Matt’s tiny bathroom.

Matt looked as well, trying to see it through Carlin’s eyes. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, the floor tiles were white, and the shower curtain was some yellow, red and orange abstract patterned thing his sister had picked out for him. It was a bathroom, nothing fancy.

Carlin nodded as if the room met his approval. “You up to giving me a tour of the rest of the place?”

“Sure. Guess you didn’t see much as you hustled me to the bathroom,” Matt teased.

“Not that there’s a lot to see. This place used to belong to my grandpa and grandma. When they passed away they left the house to me and Shelly, my sister. I bought out her share since she didn’t want anything to do with the place.”

“Was that the grandpa with the chickens?”

“Yeah, my Mom’s dad.” Matt pointed to his left. “Here’s the living room, and down the hall is my bedroom and another two rooms, one I use as a weight room, the other is a bare bones bedroom.”

Matt showed Carlin each room, watching the man closely for his reactions. The house had been moderately decorated in a western style by Matt’s grandparents, and Matt hadn’t seen any need to change much more than the paint. He’d also sanded down the hardwood floors and refinished them, bringing out the golden honey colour of the wood that’d been dulled by the years.

Carlin touched the aged wood frame of one of the larger paintings in Matt’s bedroom.

“Who painted this?”

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Matt looked at the painting of the north Texas sunset casting shadows over the mesquite and scrub. “My grandma. Most of the paintings in the house were hers. My grandpa would make the frames out of aged mesquite. It was his favourite wood.”

“Is that what these beautiful floors are made of?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah. Grandpa laid each plank himself when he built this house.”

Carlin looked over the room, humming quietly. Matt hoped Carlin liked it, though why he wanted the man’s approval was beyond him. Other paintings of landscapes hung on the cream coloured walls. The bed frame and furniture were all made of mesquite, hand carved by Matt’s grandpa years ago. A braided oval rug in shades of blue lay on the floor beside the bed. The Bird of Paradise quilt Matt’s grandma had made topped the bed like an exquisite adornment, the dark blue background material set off by an intricate design in pastel shades Matt wasn’t sure he could name.

“You love it here.”

Matt stopped his perusal of the quilt and faced Carlin. “I do. Not just this house, but McKinton, too. It’s home and I can’t imagine ever living anywhere else.”

Carlin glanced away for a moment. Matt heard him swallow, a dry clicking sound as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You know I’m going back to New York soon. Tomorrow I have a meeting with a real estate agent. I made arrangements for Aunt Mary’s funeral after I talked to Sheriff Stenley. Her funeral will be held Thursday at the funeral home since Aunt Mary wasn’t one for religion. After that I have to meet with her attorney, sort out what to do with her assets, then I have to get back to New York.”

Matt’s eyes burned at the mention of Mrs. Hawkins’ funeral. Being around Carlin tended to ease the grief Matt felt over her death. He’d have thought, before meeting Carlin, the man’s presence would have only emphasised the pain, but that simply wasn’t the case.