Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

Tossing Seed

Richard woke with a groan, turning his face further into the pillows as his stomach churned, along with his memories. He'd like to think that tryst in the field was a dream, but the ache in his hips and dull stretched feeling of his ass told him it wasn't. A whine of mortification slipped out. What must Hank think of him? Of how he'd whined and moaned, eagerly bouncing his ass on his cock, begging for more. Heat warmed his cheeks as he remembered the pictures Hank had taken and what he might do with them, though he'd always seemed the decent type. He doubted he'd use them for any nefarious purposes. Bile rose in his throat, forcing him from his bed and into the ensuite.

His eyes streamed as he emptied his sensitive stomach, noticing for the first time that it was light outside. That made sense, considering how late he'd gone to bed. Hank had walked him all the way to his door before leaving him with another breathless kiss that reddened his lips. It seemed once was enough for one night, which seemed reasonable at their age. Richard had somehow managed to stumble his way up to bed and out of his clothes, though he was still wearing his socks and garters, along with his boxers.

He groaned as he settled on his ass. The tiles were cold even through his boxers, and his head throbbed as he leaned on the edge of the toilet. He wasn't sure if he'd throw up again or not, but he didn't feel like moving yet. Wiping his lips, he squinted at the textured glass. From the brightness outside, he guessed it was late morning or early afternoon, which meant the chickens were overdue their feed. It wouldn't be fair to leave them much longer, so after a few more minutes, when he was sure his stomach had settled, he moved to the shower.

Washing off the grime of the night before felt good, especially when he realised he had stray bits of hay stuck between his cheeks. He almost blushed as he reached back to finger and tease the tight hole, feeling it twitch at the memory of Hank's cock. His ass wasn't the only thing that twitched. With a light huff, he turned the dial cold and gritted his teeth, shivering beneath the icy spray. He was in a low mood as he climbed out and towelled off. How would he face Hank the next time he saw him? The very thought made his insides churn. Just because they'd fucked didn't mean it meant anything, right? He shivered as he recalled exactly how they'd fucked. His knees still burned from the dry hay, each bounce of Hank's belly sending him lurching so far forward he would have fallen if not for the bruising grip on his hips.

Seeing Hank again worried him, and that worry only increased as he looked out of his kitchen window and saw Connor in the yard, pacing around in circles like he was waiting for something. His head looked up occasionally, turning to his house like he was looking for him. The thought made Richard swallow. Maybe he was waiting for him. Hank usually joined him at the chicken coop when he went down there, so he was probably waiting for him to feed the chickens. That was no good! How was he going to avoid Hank if Connor was right there to bark and draw attention to his arrival?

Maybe he could sneak in. There was a door inside that led to the garage. He could slip in, fill the feed bucket, run into the coop, toss the feed, and run out again. Hank wouldn't even notice. By the time he was in his boots and out the door, he could be safely back in his house. With that in mind, Richard padded through to the garage and filled the bucket. To make it quicker, he'd use the back door by the kitchen and run straight down, but he had to make sure the coast was clear first. Looking through the kitchen window, he squinted and looked around for any sign of Hank. It looked like the coast was clear.

Alright...Just get down the steps, open the coop, toss the bucket, and run back. It seemed easy enough in his head. Having hesitated for so long, Richard took one last look through the kitchen window before taking off through the hall and out the back door. The sound of Connor's barks made his stomach clench as he threw the pen door open and flung the feed across the ground, much to Nines' indignation. Without further ado, he shut the gate and raced back to the house, slamming the door with a bang and leaning against it. Did he see me? The thought plagued him as he slipped out of his boots and returned to the kitchen.