A man in ripped jeans with his shirt unbuttoned and his hand in his pocket.

I’m not sure when he decided to unbutton that shirt. I can tell you exactly when I decided to unbutton those jeans; it was the moment I walked into the room and saw Bobby spread out on the couch.  We’d been working hard earlier in the morning, and when it got too hot, he made his way inside.  I followed slowly, wiped my face and poured us big tall glasses of sweet tea.

Standing there in the middle of the doorway, I was mesmerized.  The red plaid shirt lay perfectly to reveal his well-muscled body.  I never understood why the guy was always over at my house.  I didn’t look anything like him.  But as I set the teas on the table beside me, I moved across the floor with one thought in mind: placing my hands on those tight jeans.

I don’t know what came over me – I found myself kneeling between his spread legs and my fingers tracing the threads on his brown boots.  I bent forward to smell the grassy, muddy tang of my old farm.  It hadn’t had animals in years. Now it was just tall grass and weeds, and mud.  Before I realized what I was doing, my hands slid up his legs, gripping the thick thighs.  They met in the center of the enormous bulge.  I could hear Bobby’s contented breathing and saw what I thought was a smile appear at the corners of his mouth.

The back of my hand brushed over the button-fly jeans to stop at the belt buckle.  Everything in the room was moving so slowly. Even my breathing had slowed down.  It was the first time in a while that I had not been out of breath.  Pretty soon, one of us would be making noises. I only hoped it would be Bobby, from the pleasure I was about to bestow upon him.  My hand hovered on the warmth emanating from the buttons; the other pulled the shirt away to reveal more of his chest.

That was the moment his eyes opened.  I knelt there, licking my lips.  He took a deep breath, and we both stared at each other. Then, oh, so slowly, I made him wait for the moment of release.  I spent a lot of time just admiring, running my fingertip around and under, before actually unbuttoning them, teasing him. My eyes trained on his, I let my fingers work slowly and delicately. I could feel how the bulge was trying to force its way out, but I kept it slow and won the battle of the buttons.

I had imagined him going commando under that snug fly, but after the last button was popped, I noticed the tight, straining white cotton briefs.  With a smirk, I looked from the cotton to him. He grinned and moved his hands to his belt, but I swiped them away, shaking my head.

So I have to go through another package, huh?

No sound between the two of us, just the steady in-out of breath.  Oh yes, much resting before my next move.

My mouth watered just thinking about it.


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