The Guys That I Like: Countryman Ch. 02 by tchina85
Dive into “The Guys That I Like: Countryman Ch. 02” by tchina85, where passion ignites amidst the backdrop of country charm. Join the journey of desire, connection, and thrilling encounters that unfold in this captivating gay sex story. Don’t miss the spark—explore the hidden layers of love and lust in this must-read chapter!
Roddy and I were laying in bed chatting.
“You guys up here complain about the summers. Try growing up in the south, where the mosquitoes’ wing span can be as big as your hand,” he told me.
He was laying on my chest as I looked down at him, seeing him twirl the hairs around my left nipple as he tried to proclaim Virginia wasn’t “south enough.”
“Whomever told you Virginia is the south needs to have their head examined. Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, Tennessee and even South Carolina…..they’re the undisputed south. Shit, we can throw North Carolina in there but that’s where the line is drawn,” he told me.
I tried to prick a hair from his left eyelash and he swatted my hand away as we playfully tussled briefly. We took the party upstairs to his massive bedroom, enjoying a quiet, intimate moment between us since the sun dropped and moon rose. There was a breeze cool enough to circulate throughout the dark house as he had every window open, and not a care in the world as he was truthful about the serenity of where he lived.
“You hear that,” he asked. “Peace and quiet, so when I told you to get naked earlier, this was why.
I looked through thr closest window to see the faint sight of a utility light maybe a mile or two in the distance, then let my eyes wander in this suite of his as he had all the conveniences.
“I got all this customized five years ago,” he said.
” I bought this land 11 years ago when I sold my restaurants, preserved this house from the ground up, but with a few alterations, hence you seeing the room almost set up like some high roller hotel room.”
He mentioned how he moved to Virginia to be closest to his youngest son, a lawyer that lived in Charlottesville of which he had the closest relationship with.
“You might look at me as a lazy sumbitch,” he said, but Roddy didn’t move like a 40 or 50 year old, and I understood what stairs could do to you when you’re constantly going up and down them.
I joked that he would need to preserve those knees as my “itch” was coming on.
“Oh don’t you worry. When it comes to that, I’m the most agile guy you’ll meet,” he said with a chuckle. “So tell me: why do you like older, white fat men again?”
“It’s not that easy to explain, ” I told him while rubbing the rolls in his back.
He instead broke down his lust for cock, explaining the first time he messed around with men, as it happened around the time he bought his first restaurant in his late 20s.
“I was married to Thelma, the mother of my first child, Anna, and I met her brother, Raymond. He and I were fishing buddies, and worked as cooks together at my first restaurant when one evening he and I had a beer too many, and sucked each other off. We liked it so much we did it twice a week for months, until one day his wife walked in on us, and they’d move to New York after,” he said.
Roddy wouldn’t look at me as he was telling the story, with his voice sounding somber as if he lost his best friend.
“Thelma and I soon grew apart and split, but I swore it was for my wanting to suck cock, and once we signed the divorce paperwork, I’d secretly suck off my lawyer, a black guy from Boston who looked good in a suit.
“Those had to be hard times for you,” I said while stroking the remaining white hair on his head.
“You don’t understand: it felt normal,” he said. “Benny from Boston was his name, and he was built like running back Jim Brown, and had a beer can of a cock that spit out the best tasting cum. Shit, yours reminded me of his.”
“So you’ve basically been gay your entire life,” I said.
“Bi is the more appropriate term. I catch myself sometimes still having the taste of a woman, but prefer a man,” he said.
We were under the covers in his bed when he came off of me, then turned to lay on his right side as I turned to lay on my left.
“I definitely lived a double life until one day I told Sallie, my third wife, then the rest of the world as that was 23 years ago, and I, along with all my children were living comfortably,” he said. “It was the biggest monkey off my back, and I never felt bad again about being a cockwhore.
I looked at Roddy different when he finished the story, giving him props for coming out like he did, and remaining true to himself
“When my boy mentioned leaving Alabama to come and start fresh with a gig in Virginia, I followed, selling my restaurants then coming off with a pretty penny to retire and buy this acreage, and the rest was history,” he said.
“You came up here because no one knows you and you wanna spread them wings of yours,” I joked.
“That was true, but my life needed a new start anyway,” he said.
“You had any fun since you’ve moved into this house,” I asked, while now rubbing his left nipple.
He smiled, then looked back at me.
“You’re absolutely the first guy that’s played in my home,” he mentioned.
I found it hard to believe for Roddy was definitely a charmer, a handsome, older man with the slickest tongue, and top notch oral skills.
“So answer my question,” he said while rubbing my dick. “When did you start liking fat, white guys?”
“Why does it matter, ” I answered.
“Because this dick is pulsating in my hand right now as I said it that way,” he stated.
He rubbed my dick as he looked in my eyes, not able to wipe the smile off his face as I was turned on hearing of his history. I explained of my first tryst with a guy as it was years prior in California, then I mentioned how I became addicted to the touch of another man of his type of stature.
“You black guys love us fat men,” he said to me.
“Just like you fat men love us black guys,” I told him in response.
“Well, I like damn near any man to be honest. Just as long as he’s got some hard pipe for me, and the creamy filling within,” he added before we kissed. “You gon’ fuck me now?”
“In this house? Why tonight,” I jokingly asked.
He poked my chest and we kissed some more as I told him he didn’t have to ask.
“Consent need be mutual,” he said. “You know I ain’t been fucked in over seven years?”
“Seven years,” I asked as that was a lifetime for me.
“Last time I had a dick in my ass, I was on a cruise to Jamaica. A couple of the boat engineers gave it to me, but they both came within three minutes of doing me. I ain’t been impressed with many since,” he told me.
I assured him three minutes would only scrape the surface with foreplay as I was built to last. He started kissing me on my neck while still gently stroking this dick of mine.
“Can you take it deep,” I asked.
“I can take it any way you wanna give it,” he said with confidence.
I removed the covers and moved in as my hairy chest pressed his smooth one while I rubbed that sweet ass, and he would duck his head below to suck my nipples to keep me hard. This would kick off round two between us, as he was determined to see if he could “dry me out” before I went home.