Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

2

loveyoudivine

www.loveyoudivine.com

Copyright ©2011 by Ryan Field

First published in 2011, 2011

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser

only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email,

floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a

violation of International copyright law and subjects the

violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice

overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are

erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to

others.

This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

3

CONTENTS

About the Author
Other LYD Titles

* * * *

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

4

Scanning, uploading and/or distribution of this book

via the Internet, print, audio recordings or any other
means without the permission of the Publisher is illegal
and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

* * * *

This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, events

and characters are fictitious in every regard. Any
similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead,
is purely coincidental

Another Regular Bud

Copyright(C)2011 Ryan Field

His and His Kisses Edition

Cover art and design by Dawne Dominique

All rights reserved. Except for review purposes, the

reproduction of this book in whole or part,
electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright
violation

* * * *

Published by
loveyoudivine Alterotica 2011
Find us on the World Wide Web at
www.loveyoudivine.com

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

5

Another Regular Bud

By

RYAN FIELD

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

6

There's nothing like a real man, and a smutty, sexy pair of

black high heels

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

7

When I pulled into Bob's service station, I passed the gas

pumps and parked head on against one of the open garage
doors. My legs were sore, and my feet were pulsing. I'd just
come from football practice, and it was warmer than usual for
that time of year.

It wasn't a serious football team, and I wasn't a serious

football player. Just a group of guys I'd know in college who
liked to get together and toss a ball around outside a gym
after work. Though I'd showered with the guys after practice,
all I wanted to do was go home and plop on the sofa.

But I'd been having troubles with the car, and I didn't want

to let the situation get worse. It was the end of October, and
I had a busy weekend coming up and didn't want to deal with
car problems.

Earlier that afternoon, I'd done something extremely out of

character: I'd stopped at a small erotic boutique to pick up a
pair of six-inch black leather stilettos.

Though I'd never done drag before, my best friend had

talked me into going to a costume party that Halloween
weekend as one of the characters from the movie Burlesque.
Not any one character in particular. I was just going for
theme this time.

I'd already ordered a sexy, slinky lace and leather outfit

from an erotic website and a short blonde wig from another.
A good female friend was going to help with the make up and
fake fingernails. But I'd been worried about ordering the high
heels online and figured it was better to go out and buy them
in person to make sure they fit well. I didn't want to walk

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

8

around in pain all night. And to my surprise, the high heels I
bought fit almost as well and were almost as comfortable as
my old black boots, even with my black socks.

Before I turned off the ignition, I pulled off the high heels

and threw them in the back seat. The saleswoman had
warned me it was a good idea to get used to them before I
wore them that weekend. So after football practice, I decided
to wear them on the drive home. When I pulled up to red
lights and stopped beside other cars, I couldn't help laughing
at what they would have done if they'd known the nice-
looking, straight-acting guy in the car next to them was
wearing black six-inch stilettos.

I didn't want anyone in the service station to see me

driving around in high heels, so I tossed them over my
shoulder, and they landed on the floor in the backseat. Then I
put on my conservative black leather Prada half boots and
climbed out of the car to see about getting the engine
checked out.

"Hey, Brad," the mechanic said with a throaty football-

player voice. He was teasing me, and we both knew it. "What
can I do for you today?" Then he smiled and lugged a
massive truck tire into the boiling hot garage. His biceps
bulged; a thick vein in his neck stuck out. It was so hot, small
beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his rugged, chiseled
face, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

But I wasn't in the mood to joke around. Though I didn't

frown or sneer, I shoved my hands into my pockets and
clenched my fists. Then I forced a smile. I was a regular
customer at his gas station and had been signing the credit

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

9

card receipts "Rick Johnson" for at least three years...he knew
damn well my name wasn't Brad. But he'd always said I
reminded him of Brad Pitt, the actor. I know it was a
compliment; I know I should have been ready to fling back a
quick, light-hearted reply. But I didn't think I resembled Brad
Pitt in the least, and I usually laughed it off knowing he
meant no harm.

"It's Rick," I said, with a polite smile, clenching my fists

even tighter. Though I knew he'd been married to a woman
at one time and had three teenaged daughters and was now
divorced, I'd always suspected that he'd been interested in
me. Whenever I pulled into the station to get the tank filled,
there'd be a naughty glint in his steel blue eyes, and then an
offhanded remark about "shoving the nozzle in and filling her
up." He'd cater to me when it wasn't necessary by cleaning
the windshield or checking the tire pressure, leaving other
customers waiting in line. It was nothing overt or too obvious,
just enough to make me wonder what was really on his mind.

"Sorry, Rick, it must be the blond hair, the dark tan and

the great body. I honestly thought Brad Pitt just walked
toward me." He set the huge tire down and looked me up and
down the way he usually did.

"Very funny," I replied, noticing the way his thick biceps

seemed to burst from his blue short-sleeve work shirt. You
couldn't miss biceps like that: they rounded like canned
hams. He always wore a blue button-down work shirt, stained
with grease, with a white name tag above the left pocket that
had the name "Bob" embroidered in bold red letters. His navy
short pants were always loose, hanging just below his waist,

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

10

as though one swift tug would bring them down to his ankles.
He had a slight paunch but nothing that would turn anyone
off. If anything, it added to his general, masculine sex appeal.

He winked and gave me a light punch in the arm. "Don't

get mad, bud. You know I love 'ya."

"I hope so, because I did something stupid this week."

Then I went on to explain that in order to save time, between
client appointments, I'd gone to one of those quick-service
oil-change places, and they'd forgotten to put the oil cap back
on the engine. By the time I'd noticed, even though I went
back and got the cap, oil had sprayed all over the engine
belts, causing an awful screeching, squealing noise when I
started the car. I hadn't lost much oil, but I wanted to stop
the noise and make sure the car hadn't been damaged.

I was embarrassed to admit that I'd gone somewhere else

and still kicking myself for actually taking my beloved vintage
Jaguar XJ6 to one of those quick-change places.

He laughed, but he wasn't mad. "That's what happens

when you don't come to me first, bud." He looked me up and
down again, this time with his lips pursed. "I consider you my
favorite customer."

"I know," I said, experiencing a huge wave of guilt. "You

are the best, and I'm begging your forgiveness, on my hands
and knees. I know it's late, but I'm really worried. I'd hate to
think this will affect the engine forever."

He stopped working for a moment and sent me a glance.

"Well, I certainly can't refuse you if you're on your hands and
knees. That would be wrong."

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

11

I ignored that comment. Though I did enjoy the attention,

I had a rule about not getting involved with straight guys like
Bob. They weren't looking for anything serious, and I was. "I
promise. I'll do anything you want," I said, flirting with him. I
knew it was wrong to flirt; I couldn't help myself. When I
wasn't around him, I put him out of my mind like I did with
most of the other men that flirted with me. But when I was
around him, he attracted me in a way that crept painfully
close to complete submission. And I didn't like feeling that
way; I'd never liked losing control in any situation.

"Soon as I'm finished putting the tire on this truck, I'll take

a look at it, sweetie," he said, putting lug nuts on the wheel
to secure the tire.

When he didn't call me bud, he called me sweetie. And I

wasn't sure I liked it. I'd just come from football practice. I
had season tickets to baseball games in New York. And I'd
never swished, curtsied, lisped, or swooned around him. On
the one hand, it caused a slight thrill in my pants. On the
other, I felt like standing taller and squaring my shoulders.

But I ignored it this time; I needed to get that car checked

out and flirting wasn't above me. "I appreciate this. I'll wait in
the office." I even lowered my eyes, flung him a seductive
glance, and tapped my fingertips against his sweaty forearm.

"Wait in the back office today, bud. I'm going to lock

everything up soon, close the place, and turn off the outside
lights as soon as I get your car into the garage. I don't want
anyone else coming in today."

"No problem," I said. Then I turned and started walking

slowly to the office. I could feel his eyes on my back. I was

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

12

wearing tight low-rise jeans that day, and I made sure I
added a slight swagger to my step. At one point, I thought I
heard him whistle back. But I didn't even give him a
backward glance. I'd learned that it was always best to keep
the big, strong ones like him on a tight leash. The more I
rejected him, the more I knew he'd want me. And though I
wasn't going to take him seriously, I wasn't above playing
harmless games.

The back office was located behind the main reception

area, a dingy, grimy, hole of a place. Bob, who was about
thirty-seven years old, had inherited the small family garage
from his father and hadn't made any changes at all. It was
only a small room with hideous dark paneling, grease-stained,
asbestos-tiled floor, and several nude girly calendars thumb
tacked to the back of the door. I almost laughed out loud.
One of the girls in one photo was wearing my black leather
and lace Halloween costume. And it wasn't easy to laugh in a
room that hadn't been aired...or cleaned...in years, but there
was a small window air conditioner that made the
temperature bearable.

I sat down on a metal chair that was covered in dark green

vinyl and crossed my legs. The chair was right in front of a
large oak desk that had so many loose papers and receipts, I
couldn't see the desktop. I could hear the sound of cars being
moved around and doors being quickly opened and then
closed.

A moment later, Bob appeared in the doorway with a huge

grin. "I just put your car on the lift. But I closed up, and you
can't get out unless I let you out, sweetie."

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

13

"I feel like a prisoner," I said, looking him directly in the

eye. "Should I be worried?" I knew I couldn't have been
anywhere safer. I knew there wasn't a thing he wouldn't do
for me. And I couldn't stop smiling about this.

"No way, sweetie. You just make yourself comfortable, and

I'll check out the car. There's a small refrigerator over in the
corner, next to the desk. Help yourself to a cold drink or a
beer. And don't sit in that chair. Sit behind the desk. It's more
comfortable."

"Thanks, that's nice," I said, as I watched him turn and

lope back to the garage in his wrecked work boots.

I read a few magazines and checked my phone messages.

I texted a friend and played a game. Time passed quickly,
and before I knew it, Bob was shouting, "C'mon on in here for
a minute, and I'll show you the problem." When he shouted,
his throaty voice went even deeper.

Feeling inferior because I knew nothing about auto

mechanics...I was a rookie sales rep for a pharmaceutical
company, just out of college...I stood up and walked over to
where Bob was standing in the garage. I smiled and leaned
against the fender and peered into the engine, pretending I
knew what I was looking for.

"Did I fuck it up?" I finally asked, unable to wait for Bob to

speak first. "Did those idiots ruin my car forever?" How I
loved that car. It was a dark blue Jag XJ6, with light cream
leather and burlwood trim. It was ten years old. I'd bought it
from the original owner a year earlier. The only reason he
wanted to sell was because he wanted the newer design.

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

14

There didn't seem to be any expression at all on Bob's

face. He lowered his voice and said, "Come here and get in
front of me. Lean over, and I'll show you what's wrong and
why you've been hearing a screeching noise."

He'd always flirted with me. But he'd never been this

aggressive, and we'd never been alone this way. I wasn't sure
what to do. "Can't you just tell me what's wrong?" I asked,
taking a step back. "You're the expert, and you know more
about these things than I do. I'm an idiot when it comes to
cars. The only thing I know is how to start a car and go."

He came closer, set his palm on the small of my back, and

guided me toward his body. "I'd like to explain it to you in
depth."

So I turned and stood in front of him, slightly leaning over

the front fender. Bob slowly began to press his solid frame
against my back. My heart started to beat faster and my legs
felt weaker. He was firm, but gentle, pinning me to the side of
the car. I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck; I
could smell his masculine scent of worn aftershave and
perspiration. Though I thought his flirting had always been
harmless and I hadn't expected him to make any moves on
me, I knew what was happening, and I didn't protest. The
harder he leaned against me, the softer my voice grew.

And then, in a bold move, he pressed his lips against my

left earlobe, pricking the back of my neck with stubble from
his heavy, dark beard, and spoke in a stage whisper. "Look at
the belts. There's oil splattered all over them. That's all that's
wrong. I sprayed some belt dressing on them and the noise
should work itself out eventually." He kissed me again and

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

15

drew a breath. "It might take some time. But you'll just have
to live with it for a while. There's no serious damage done,
though."

I exhaled; I'd been holding my breath. "Oh, I see," was all

I could say. I was still pinned to the car by his strong body,
ready to fall limp from the sound of his deep voice. I felt his
rock of an erection through his navy shorts, and I arched my
back without even thinking about it.

He placed both of his large hands on my waist and said,

"Damn, you smell great. Like a bar of soap. I could fucking rip
your clothes off right now." He was still whispering, now
gently bucking his hips against the backside of my jeans. I'd
always imagined his dick would be thick and chunky...more
than a mouthful.

But this was wrong. I couldn't do this. I didn't want to get

involved with a divorced man, especially a divorced man in a
small town who wasn't openly gay. Though I didn't wear my
sexuality on my sleeve and wasn't fond of loud, noisy gay-
pride events, I did have my own sense of pride, and I had
been openly gay since college. So I slowly began to wiggle,
turning my body around so I could face him. I was planning
to get out from under his grip. But in seconds, my palms were
pressed against his powerful chest, and I was caressing him
gently with my fingertips. Though I'd fantasized about it
often, I'd never been with a man like this, not a real man with
a hairy chest and rough stubble. The guys I'd always dated
were other gay guys like me: well-trimmed and manicured,
far too educated for their own good and usually too
judgmental.

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

16

"I like the way you smell, too." I drew a deep breath and

whispered this into his chest. It was the aroma of a man
who'd worked hard that day, a combination of grease and
gasoline and sweat, with subtle undertones of cheap, spicy
drugstore aftershave. And there was beer on his breath,
which only made it better.

"C'mon," he laughed, gently kissing my neck, "I stink like

old sweat socks and dirty underwear. I was afraid you might
be disgusted."

I reached up with my right hand and ran my fingers

through the back of his head, caressing him with gentle
strokes. I had a feeling he'd like this; he seemed like the type
who liked being babied a little. "No you don't. Like I said, I
think you smell fantastic. I like the smell of a real man."

He slapped my ass and then said, "Sweetie, I always

suspected you were really hot stuff in bed and that you liked
it rough and dirty." He grabbed my ass and squeezed it hard.
"You come off as a tight-ass. But deep down, I knew you'd be
very receptive."

I lowered my hand and started to scratch the back of his

neck. When I did this, he bucked forward and pinned my ass
to the fender. "Oh really?" I said, as he placed both of his
massive grease-stained hands on my small waist, pulling me
closer to his erection. "I always thought you'd be kind of
average in bed." I was surprised at how he could make me
smile and feel sexy at the same time. Usually I'm more
reserved...if not apprehensive.

"Oh yeah, I'll show you who's average in bed. I've been

watching you for a long time now. Maybe I shouldn't say this,

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

17

but I've even jacked off thinking about you. You're fucking
hot and you know it." Then he slid both large hands under my
white button-down shirt and began to pinch my nipples with
his grimy thumbs and index fingers. I was certain he'd leave
dark smudges all over my smooth, clean chest. But I didn't
stop him.

"So the car is going to be okay?" I asked, as I lowered my

hands and popped the button of my jeans and invited him
into my pants.

"The car will be fine," he said, lowering his hands down my

back, shoving them down the back of my pants. "Damn, your
ass is so smooth and firm."

"I don't usually do things like this," I said, arching my back

so his hands would be free to slide around. "I'm usually a lot
harder to get. We've never even dated."

"But we're not strangers," he said. Then, with his hands

still deep in my pants, he grabbed my ass with both hands
and spread it apart.

We weren't strangers. But I wanted to tease him a little.

"We should stop now. We could get caught. Suppose
someone walked in on us and found you with your hands
down my pants?"

"Fuck them," he said. His head went down and he licked

my neck.

"You want it, don't you?" I said, slowly losing my

inhibitions. My arms were around his shoulders; he felt so
warm and strong. "You're on fire, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah," he moaned, now sliding his thick middle finger

into the crack of my ass. He stopped at the opening, slowly

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

18

began to circle and then quickly inserted his finger all the
way.

"Oh yeeees!" I moaned, "deeper, don't be afraid to get

rough."

"I'm gonna make that pretty ass mine, top it off just like

an empty gas tank," he said, slowly inserting another dirty
finger.

"Deeper," I moaned, "yes, deeper, harder." I even

surprised myself with this line. I'd never begged a man
before.

"You like dick?" he asked. He removed his finger.
"Oh yeah," I replied. Then I stepped out of my pants and

spread my legs as wide as I could.

"What's the story with those high heels in the backseat?"

he asked with his deep, raspy tone.

"I can't believe you saw them. I thought I threw them on

the floor."

He laughed. "Well, one landed on the seat. I couldn't help

noticing it." Then he slapped my ass hard. "What are they
for?"

I took a quick breath, sorry I'd been so careless. "A

Halloween costume I'm wearing this weekend. I've never
done drag...I don't do drag. This is a joke a friend talked me
into doing. I'm going as a burlesque queen." I felt the need to
explain it in more detail, so he didn't think I was into women's
clothes all the time. You never know.

"Put them on," he said.
I sent him a glance. "Seriously. You want me to put them

on right now?" I'd never done anything like this before with a

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

19

man. I'd once worn a pair of black lace panties for a guy who
was into that sort of thing but never high heels and never in a
public place.

He nodded. "I think they're hot. Put the high heels on." He

was so excited about me wearing the high heels, he released
me, leaned through the back window, and pulled the high
heels out of the backseat himself.

When he handed them to me, I hesitated for a moment.

"You sure about this?"

He nodded yes and pinched my nipples.
I kicked my pants aside so there would be no distractions

on the floor, while he watched with his bottom lip between his
teeth. I was completely naked from the waist down. I slipped
the six-inch black stilettos on to my feet and held his massive
forearm for support. After that, I braced myself, looked up at
him, and shrugged.

He whistled back, slapped my ass, and said, "That is so

fucking hot. Fuck. Your legs are so fucking smooth, bud." He
leaned forward and ran his hand up and down my naked
thigh.

I took a step back, jumped up, and sat on the edge of the

fender. Then I spread my legs and lifted them over his hairy
forearms. He went down and started licking and biting the
insides of my thighs, with my legs still over his arms, the high
heels dangling in mid-air. He braced his hands against the
fender and licked the bottom of my ass while I cradled his
head in my palms and pushed it deeper between my legs. I
arched my back and spread my legs wider so his warm
tongue could reach my softest spots. At one point, when his

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

20

tongue slid down the crack of my ass, I closed my eyes and
started to moan.

When he finally lifted his head, he kissed me on the lips

and helped me get down from the fender very gently. "You
are so damn soft," He whispered. "And you taste so damn
good. This is so fucking hot."

His dirty talk made me smile. I leaned into his warm body,

and he wrapped his arms around me again. My arms went
up; I held his broad shoulders and squeezed his muscles. "It
does feel hot. I can't believe I'm standing here half-naked
with a man who uses the word fuck in every other sentence,
and I'm wearing nothing but high heels from the waist down.
But it does feel hot."

Then, without warning, he shoved two thick, grease-

stained fingers all the way up my ass, leaned over, and stuck
his tongue down my throat. For a moment, I tried to push
him away. His fingers hurt; I felt overwhelmed. But he only
held me tighter and kissed harder.

A minute later, he stopped kissing. "C'mon, baby," he said,

pulling his fingers from my ass, "Let's go into the office, and
you can spread those pretty legs again for me. I'll give you
some dick you'll never forget."

I knew this was more dirty talk; he wasn't really ordering

me. I left my clothes on the garage floor and followed him
into the office, with the high heels clicking against the grease-
stained concrete floor.

He quickly closed the door, locked it, and began to remove

my white shirt with a sense of desperation and hunger I'd
never seen. His chest heaved and his eyes glared.

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

21

In seeing how anxious he was to have me, I became

totally submissive in a way that was out of character for me;
I was ready to pleasure and fulfill his every wish. It was so
different from the guys I usually dated, who always smelled
like expensive cologne, were clean shaven and hated to mess
their hair styles. No one had ever wanted me the way Bob did
that afternoon. I loved it, too.

The high heels made it even better. However, even though

he stripped me naked right there in the office, he didn't
bother to remove a stitch of his own clothing. Not even the
heavy black leather boots with the steel toes. I wondered
about that, but I'd already figured out that Bob liked to give
directions, and I was determined to follow them.

Fully naked except for high heels and ready to please Bob,

I slowly went down on my knees (I tried to be seductive,
arching my back and spreading my legs) and began to lick his
zipper. And then, with my teeth, while holding his strong
thighs for support, I began to lower the zipper. I was not
even halfway down when his heavy, sweaty cock popped out
through white boxer shorts and hit me in the face. It was
about nine inches long and nearly as thick as a can of beans.
With my left hand, I gently wrapped his cock in my palm and
then reached into his shorts with the other hand and pulled
out his ball sack. It was warm and furry, and I quickly took
both balls into my mouth and began to gently suck on them.
Bob spread his legs wide and began to moan.

He was, I knew, one of those really butch guys that just

loved to have someone suck their cock and balls. All they
want to do is lay back while a soft tongue sucks and licks

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

22

them into a state of bliss. The perfect match, we were,
indeed: I was one of those guys who loved the taste of cock
and balls, and I could suck and lick until my jaw went numb.

"Suck my dick. Suck my big, dirty dick."
Evidently, Bob liked dirty talk. So I took his dick in the

palm of my right hand and gently began to circle the head
with my tongue, gazing into his eyes the entire time.

"Oh yeah, baby," he moaned, "put those lips around it. Get

it all wet with that pretty mouth. Suck it, baby. Spread those
legs and show me those high heels."

I spread my legs and pointed my toes. I wrapped my lips

around the head, hoping I could take it all and began to suck
him off. By that point, I simply assumed my job was
cocksucker for the horny straight guy. Just get naked, arch
my back and get him off as quickly as possible. I didn't mind.
Actually, I liked the thought of getting him off like that. And I
made a point of letting him know by never taking his cock
from my mouth, that I wanted his entire load to shoot down
my throat. Either you like it or you don't. I happen to love the
taste of come. Most of the time, men usually finished
themselves off, and I have to lick up what didn't shoot across
the room (sometimes they think it's an insult if they shoot
down my throat). But I was certain I could get Bob off,
swallow the whole load and leave that big gorgeous cock as
clean as I'd found it in his pants.

Well, to my shock, when Bob was all but ready to blast a

load, he grabbed me by the hair, pulled his wet cock from my
mouth, and said, "Get that pretty blond-boy ass up and lean
over the desk. I gotta fuck that ass."

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

23

Not exactly what I'd expected to hear from a divorced

father of three teenage girls, but clearly not an order I could
refuse. So I stood up, turned around and leaned over the
paper-strewn desk. For a moment, I rubbed the right high
heel against his hairy calf. I arched my back, spread my legs
wide, and tried to make it as simple as possible for him to
enter.

"That's it. Just lean over and spread those pretty legs in

those high heels real wide for me." He slapped my ass hard
and inhaled. "You are one hot bitch."

He then reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a self-

lubed condom and proceeded to slide it over his dick.

"Hot fucking ass," he said as he reached down with his

right hand and shoved a thick finger up my ass. "Fucking
tight, too."

After a few minutes of wonderful, magical finger fucking,

he grabbed his dick, spread his legs and leaned back as
though he were going to take a piss and shoved the head into
my ass. Wearing the high heels made it easier for him to
enter, my ass was just the right height, and he didn't have to
strain at all.

"Whoa," he moaned as he shoved the cock all the way in,

"That feels like fucking satin or velvet."

"Deep," I begged, "please, don't be afraid to really go

deep." I never spoke this way with guys; I usually just let
them do what they wanted and took what they gave me. But
it seemed so natural with Bob. And he didn't seem to mind at
all.

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

24

"I knew it. I knew it when I saw you. You look all

professional and businesslike, but deep down, I knew you
liked it hard and dirty and rough. I've been wanting to fuck
your brains out for a long time. Every time I see your ass
walk away, I wanna fuck it. I'll bet you feel real sexy right
now in those high heels, don't you?"

I nodded and said, "Oh yes."
"I bet you feel just like my little high-heeled slut, don't

you?"

"Fuck yes. I feel just like your slut."
He leaned over and kissed the back of my neck, pushing

himself inside me deeper. "You are my little high-heeled slut."

I'd never been with a guy who liked to talk so much during

sex. It was the biggest turn on I'd ever experienced.

He began to ride me and pound me and nail me into the

desk until I thought I'd go blind with ecstasy. Bob had a
rhythm, a way of pulling the cock in and out, which hit all the
right spots. While he fucked, he held my waist, guiding me
the entire time. He'd slowly pull his cock out of my ass, to the
point where the head was ready to pop, and then ram it back
inside as hard as he could until I could feel the fabric of his
short pants rubbing against my bare skin. When he was as
deep as it was possible to go, he'd give me about ten short
bangs that rattled my entire body.

When he couldn't hold back much longer, he said, "Baby,

I'm getting close. I'm gonna shoot a load real soon."

"Me, too," I said as I held on to the desk. His fucking was

even more intense. I could feel my own orgasm beginning to
surface, and I didn't even have to touch my cock. That had

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

25

only happened once before, when these three guys from New
York gang banged me on a trash can once, behind a
nightclub. It was one of those rare, drunken, sleazy nights
that don't happen often. I was too drunk, too horny, and too
willing to bend over for them. At the time, I never knew it
would serve as one of the best sexual fantasies of my life.

Bob began to pound harder, falling on top of me so that I

was hopelessly pinned to the desk.

"Fuck baby," he shouted, "here it goes. Fuck. Fuck."
"Oh yes," I screamed, "me, too. Harder, fuck me harder."
We both came together. And with his cock still deep inside,

he fell on top of me, grunting and squeezing out the last
drops of come he had to offer.

He bit the back of my neck. "Man, baby, that was really

nice. I needed that."

"Me, too," I could have remained pinned to that old desk

all night.

"I hate to pull out...it feels so good in there."
"Take your time. Whenever you're ready. It feels good." Of

course, Bob didn't have a clue that I was squeezing my ass so
that his cock wouldn't just pop out on its own. I liked it and
wanted to hold onto it. My body was still filled with those
quiet internal orgasms that happen after the climax, and I
wanted to prolong this for as long as I could.

"You know what I think?" he asked.
"What?"
"I think you might have to come back this week so I can

top you off again. I also think you should bring those high

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

26

heels, and I'll fuck you on your back next time and those high
heels can dangle over my shoulder."

I hadn't expected to hear that comment. "You want to do it

again?" I asked with a hint of shock in my tone. Actually, I'd
expected Bob to jump off my back like the three guys from
New York, quickly shove his big cock back into his pants, and
run to the bathroom so that I could remove the high heels
and get dressed.

"Maybe we can get a bite to eat tonight," Bob said, as he

ran his rough hand up and down my naked thigh. "I wanna
see you as much as I can."

"I'm starved. That would be nice." I hadn't eaten all day,

and the sex we'd just had left me longing for food.

"This is the first good fuck I've had in a long time," he

admitted, "I don't screw around much, and you don't have to
worry about catching anything from me."

"Me either. I mean, I'm no virgin, but I don't really screw

around much, and when I do, I use condoms. I was just
tested for HIV a couple of months ago and haven't been with
anyone since."

"Cool. Then the next fuck is bareback, on your back, with

the high heels."

I was surprised. He wanted this to continue. "Are you

sure?" I still had trouble believing he wanted to see me again.

He laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm not all that open about all

this. But I'm not an idiot either. I'm not letting you out of my
sight. For the time being, if it's okay with you, that is, you
don't see anyone but me."

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

27

I liked the sound of that. I smiled and said, "Yes, it's okay

with me, Bob." It was the last thing I expected to hear that
day, but when he suggested he wanted something more
serious and monogamous, a nice feeling passed through my
entire body.

"Just be patient with me. It's hard to come out and be

open. But I'll never let you down."

I reached back and rested my palm on top of his warm

hand. I sent him a backward glance and smiled. "I won't let
you down either."

Then he quickly stood and his cock popped out with a jolt.

He helped me rise to a standing position and set his hand on
the small of my back. "Now cover that ass up, bud. It belongs
to me."

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

28

About the Author

Ryan Field is a fiction writer who has worked in publishing

for over fifteen years. He has worked as an assistant editor
and editor for magazines and non-fiction publishers.

Aside from his novels, his short stories have been

published in anthologies and collections by Alyson Books,
Cleis Press and Starbooks Press. His short story, "Down the
Basement," is part of a collection of short stories in the
Lambda Award winning book, BEST GAY EROTICA 2009.

He blogs at www.ryan-field.blogspot.com

* * * *

[Back to Table of Contents]

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

29

Other LYD Titles

By Ryan Field

* * * *

Young Doughy Joey
"Whatever, Dude"
Capping The Season
Vance's Flames
Down The Basement
Pumpkin Ravioli Boy
A Regular Bud
Strawberries and Cream at the Plaza
Kevin Love's Cowboys
Missing Jackson's Hole
Sir, Yes Sir
Down the Basement II: Santa Saturday
Dirty Little Virgin
Billabong Bang
Jolly Roger
You missed A Spot Big Guy
Skater Boy
Babycakes

[Back to Table of Contents]

Another Regular Bud

by Ryan Field

30

loveyoudivine is dedicated to bringing you the finest erotic

literature on the web.

* * * *

You are cordially invited to join us on a journey of sexual

awakening and sensual passion.

* * * *

Visit us on the web at:

loveyoudivine.com

* * * *