Like milking a cow, but with flair.

You vaguely recall back to a time when you were younger - somehow you found yourself volunteering your time on a local farm. The middle-aged man took you to the barn and taught you how to milk a cow after he noticed your fascination with the lumbering beasts.

It was only until much later on when you entered puberty and saw your first gay porno - somewhere deep in your lizard-brain you recognized the similar motion and, only then, came to the realization of why cowboys are inherently homoerotic.

This, is something that you’re pretty sure you can do. We’ll see.

The warmth of his shaft, his pulse beneath your fingers, the gentle electric thrum of being intimate like this with someone for the first time; everything feels really really nice…

Nolan is looking downwards at your hand wrapped around his length. This gives you a convenient opportunity to subtly watch his facial expressions and gauge your success. Your whole hand engages in an elaborate choreography of squeezing, pulling, and pumping. You fluctuate here and there; experimenting with different speeds and grip strengths (though you’re very careful not to squeeze TOO hard).

You’re suddenly very aware of your free hand still hanging limply at your side. Unsure of what to do, or where you can even touch him, you bring it to his shaft to join your other hand. The steady pumping reminds you of churning butter when you start to really get into it with both hands. You’re startled out of your thoughts when you feel the unsteady puffs of hot air on your lips. Due to your enthusiastic handjob, you’ve subconsciously leaned in a bit closer to him for more leverage.

Nolan is now so close to you that you can feel his breath tickling your face. There’s a focused knot between his brows but his eyes are unfocused. His breathing gives away just how close he is, and upon looking up and seeing your close scrutiny of him, he gives in and cums. Warm droplets fall across your forearms and fingers; some strays landing on parts of his shirt and your long sleeved motocross jersey.

Despite having not been touched, your panting is in-sync with his.

He takes a step back and looks at you for a minute before reaching into a stall behind him for tissue paper. Nolan cleans himself first and flushes it down the toilet. Then he hands you your own tissue and you thank him quietly.

You wash your hands in the sink and he leans beside you, his elbow rests on the porcelain counter as he watches you move. His silence makes you a bit nervous, and before you know it, you’ve already blurted out a question:

“Was that alright?”

Nolan blinks and refocuses his gaze back up into your eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches up in amusement before he can school his expression into neutrality again. “Yeah. Sorry, just thinking. This was nice… Y’know, I won’t say no to more handjobs in the future, if you want…” he says, finally letting his lips curl into that grin he was holding back. A small smile works it’s way onto your lips as well and you nod.

His grin morphs into a smile; something a bit more genuine, a bit softer… “Nice. Well… I hate to leave you blue-balled but we should probably go now… See you around, hopefully…?” he ends with a questioning lilt to his voice. After you nod your agreeance to maybe perhaps coming back again sometime, the two of you exchange farewells. Nolan leaves out the door first and you’re grateful for the moment of privacy to collect yourself. The mirror shows your still-flushed expression staring back at you.

‘Oh boy…’