ATF Universe
“What the fuck are ya doin, asshole? Whackin’ off?!?” Vin hollered at the slow poke motorist in the far lane.Vin had been in a foul mood, with an even fouler mouth, for most of the afternoon. Chris had hoped that the drive home to the ranch would settle the usually calm man, but the rage was only inflamed by the traffic.
“Hey, shit fer brains! Git that piss poor cum-stain of a car off the fuckin’ road!” he raged at a driver, whose smoky exhaust had drawn the sharpshooter’s ire.
Tedious traffic conditions weren’t the real reason for all the pent up rage being colorfully released. It was actually brought on by the press attention to Guido Carlucci, gun runner and self-styled crime boss, who never met a camera he didn’t like.
Carlucci was under the delusion that he was auditioning for a part on the “Sopranos” and would have his lawyers hold impromptu “press conferences” on the courthouse steps for each of his many court appearances. Carlucci was, in fact, not going anywhere except the slammer, thanks to the air-tight case compiled by ATF Team 7, but he got his day in court just the same and therefore another day in front of the cameras.
The favorite topic of Carlucci’s soliloquies was Chris Larabee and his ATF team, and his litany of their supposed shortcomings and failures. Vin could shrug off what Carlucci said about him, well some of it anyway, but nobody talked that way about his team, and especially about the man he loved.
Chris was grateful to turn off the main highway, heading down the country road that would bring them home to his ranch, the quicker the better. Chris pressed the accelerator a little more than he usually would have on this back road, but the sooner they were home, the sooner he could get Vin out of this mood.
“Shit, would ya look at what some fuckin’ shitheel did?” Vin exclaimed, pointing out some trash off the side of the usually pristine back road.
Then again Chris wasn’t used to waiting, and there was no time like the present, right?
“Vin, cool it with the fucking mouth, OK?” Chris sighed in exasperation, “Christ, now you got me doing it.”
Vin just glared in return.
Chris tried a more conciliatory tactic. “Listen Vin, it’s okay. I couldn’t give a sh . . . uh, give a damn what Carlucci says about me . . .”
“That mother-fuckin’ asshole kin kiss my ass!” raged the ATF sharpshooter.
Chris tried being stern. “All right Vin, I know you’re upset but . . . .”
“But what? Fuck but!” Vin hollered back in a rage.
That did it. Chris couldn’t help starting to chuckle. “Fuck butt? Now that’s more like it. That’s the kind of language I want to hear from that foul mouth of yours.”
Vin tried to retain a stern, pissed off face, but the corners of his mouth were creeping up uncontrollably. “MY foul mouth? Y’all ain’t exactly a choir boy, . . . cowboy.”
Chris just shook his head. “I can’t believe I let you kiss me with that mouth.”
“There’s other things ya don’t mind my mouth doing,” said Vin with a leer, just before Chris slammed the truck into park. They had reached the ranch just in time.
Chris grinned evilly, his right hand drifting down to rub at his crotch. “That’s just my point, Vin. You can use your mouth in lots of ways to express yourself.”
Vin shifted to whisper into Chris’s ear. “How ‘bout you express them pants down, Cowboy, and I’ll show ya what this foul mouth kin do,” he said, letting a little lick wet Chris’s earlobe.
Chris couldn’t open the buttons of his jeans fast enough. “Ooooh, Vin, can’t wait. Been so long,” he pleaded as he pushed his jeans down past his knees.
Vin leaned in for a passionate kiss as Chris slipped his hands into his hair. After just enough kissing to steal Chris’s breath, Vin sank lower.
“Oh, yes! Oh shit, yes!” cried Larabee, as Vin started to lick at the enflamed head of his rampant cock. It had been at least three, maybe four days since he and Vin had had some time for fun, and he was feeling pent up.
A sharp gasp came from his throat as Vin’s cool mouth started slowly sinking lower on his hot, highly sensitive prick, sending shivers down his body. All the blood seemed to rush from his head and settle in his shaft.
Chris could only lay back and enjoy as Vin sucked him even deeper, driven mindless by Vin‘s sucking. Vin had a talent at cock-sucking that was almost unmatched, except maybe by Chris himself. Chris knew breath control, he hadn't been a Navy Seal for nothing.
A wide, sated grin crossed Chris’s face at the thought, and a sigh turned to a moan escaping his lips as Tanner sank down to the root of Chris's impressive meat. Yeah, Vin sure was talented, he was the only one who had ever gotten it all the way down, deep-throating like a champ and was now milking Chris's shaft with his sinuous throat muscles.
Chris's eyes squeezed shut as the sensation over took him, his thighs clenching as he hitched his hips up, as if to sink even further into that dark mouth. That foul mouth. Vin could milk him like a dairy machine. Chris grabbed the steering wheel in one hand, the seat back in another, both sets of knuckles white as he squeezed. With eyes still closed, his head hanging back, mouth dropping open to ease the way of the harsh, ragged panting, Larabee came closer to climax. "Oh, oh God. Oh, God."
Chris’s asshole spasmed as the tips of Vin's fingers roved over the taut raised ass, flitting and teasing as Chris's breathing became more ragged and intense. His whole body clenched as the climax came upon him, raised straight in the air on the straining hands and feet, to shove even one more impossible inch into that fantastic foul mouth. White lighting streamed out of Chris's cock and into the eager milking throat of the man he loved. The man who seemed to be swallowing him whole, as his entire body seemed to liquefy and go streaming in a molten flood out of his cock.
Once his breathing started to return to normal, and the little electric shocks zipping along his sensitized skin started to calm, Chris could open his eyes again and saw his lover grinning down at him, licking his lips.
"Now then, what were ya sayin' 'bout my mouth?"
"Mmmm. Love it. It's dark and sweet, like that chocolate you love," Chris replied grabbing Vin’s head and ravaging the mouth he spoke of, wanting to sample every flavor within.
"Now kin we go inside?" asked the sharpshooter, gaining a chuckle from his sated lover.
THE END
Comments to: jensnric@yahoo.com