Ladies' Man - 6. Chapter 6

“I can never eat a whole dessert,” Ashlee turned back and smiled at Clem as they left the restaurant, “thanks for sharing with me, Sugar.”

“Any time you like,” Clem let the door close behind them, and settled his leather jacket over his shoulders.

If watching Ashlee eat was fun and distracting, then sharing food with him was downright erotic. The young man had bit the end of his thumb gently and asked Clem to share with him in the most adorable manner, and then taken the extra fork away so they only had one with which to share the rich and tangy lemon tart. Ashlee has scooted partway around the side of the table and Clem had been only too happy to let himself be fed. Watching his date paint whipped cream on his tongue had however, been a completely different experience: and Ashlee had noticed.

“You’re even cuter when you blush, Clem.” Ashlee waited for him on the sidewalk, swishing his hips very slightly, and making the pleats of his skirt skin around his thighs: Clem had to force himself to look away.

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘cute’ before.”

“That can’t be true,” Ashlee stepped closer to him and looped his skinny arm into the crook of Clem’s elbow, “I had a really lovely time tonight.”

“Me too. Thank you for dinner.” Clem took a deep breath, “can I escort you home?”

“Oh yes please!” the young man hugged his arm and leant into his side. Clem grinned happily, and adjusted his grip so he could skim his palm down Ashlee’s spine. Just as his fingers lingered in the small of his back, Ashlee’s honey-brown eyes flashed up at him with an adorably lopsided smile. “So do you have a truck? I mean, you work on a farm right; I’m sure you said something about a truck.”

“Yeah, this way.” Clem couldn’t ever remember walking down the street with such a broad smile plastered over his face. When Ashlee pressed into his side, he felt the young man’s slender fingers sliding into the back pocket of his jeans, and though Clem really wanted to let his hand drift lower, to investigate the texture of his skirt pleats, he knew feeling up his date in public was not something a gentleman would do. “Just here.”

“That’s your truck?” Ashlee let go of him, and Clem stood back so he could watch his date wander around the enormous truck, his fingers stroking softly at the gleaming metal. “Why do I get the feelin’ it’s not always quite this shiny?”

Clem blushed, and wished he had his ball cap to hide behind.

“Well someone’s gotta give you an excuse to wash it,” Ashlee beamed and swished his hips, “I’m glad it could be me.”

The big farm hand smiled and opened the passenger side door with a heavy clunk, but Ashlee looked him blankly.

“Ashlee?”

“Oh I like hearin’ you say my name, Sugar,” Ashley tucked a strand of loose hair back behind his ear, “but I can’t get up there by myself.”

Clem felt his heart going a million miles an hour as he held his hand out, and Ashlee took it. The young man’s skin was so soft and delicate against his own. He looked tiny next to the huge bulk of the truck, stepping up onto the plate, and Clem returned his hand to the small of his back as he boosted Ashlee up to the long bench seat. The movement made the pleats of his skirts swish, and for half a heartbeat, Clem saw a flash of bright red silk and lace above the smooth olive skin of Ashlee’s upper thigh. Rarely had the man had such difficultly walking around the other side of his truck to start it, because his brain was full.

He had never really put much thought into the sort of men he fancied, and whilst Nathan had been particularly macho, the few partners he had been with before him had generally been other farm hands; guys from the same world as himself. Ashlee was so far away from ‘someone like himself’ that Clem almost couldn’t imagine what his daily life was like, but he had never felt his heart beat with quite as much force as it did when he looked across the cab at Ashlee. The skirt had been a surprise, almost a shock, but it seemed natural on Ashlee, and Clem had meant everything he had said to the young man about how good he looked. Clem knew that any girl in a skirt would not have had the same effect, but there was something exciting about seeing Ashlee sitting there in his truck, knowing his bare thighs were resting against the leather seat, and that under only two layers of thin and open cloth, the heat of him was so tantalisingly close. It was the best sort of teasing Clem could even imagine.

He followed Ashlee’s directions through the city to his apartment building, and Clem pulled his truck up alongside a cute cornflower blue VW Beetle soft top.

“That’s my car.”

“Suits you.”

“You think?” Ashlee blinked softly and pressed his shiny lips together momentarily: Clem could barely tear his eyes away. “You think it would survive a trip out to where you live?”

“As long as you stay on the blacktop; leave the off-roading to the four-wheel drive.”

“Only if you still take me with you,” Ashlee fluttered his long eye lashes.

“I promise,” Clem killed the engine and let go of the wheel. He had sat in the truck long enough, and he couldn’t resist the beautiful young man any longer. As he turned, Ashlee was already looking at him, the orange streetlamps reflected in his eyes. His lips shone, and Clem reached out, held his pointed jaw in one hand and pressed his lips against Ashlee’s.

He tasted like vanilla, lemon and sugar, and his lips were sweet and moist, plump and soft against Clem’s own. When Clem drew back just a fraction, Ashlee followed his movement, and after a heartbeat that lasted forever, Clem kissed him again. This time was harder, more wonderful, and Ashlee opened up to him, his pink lips parting invitingly. Clem pushed his tongue into the young man’s mouth, invading his warm accommodating body, and Ashlee moaned as Clem pushed thick fingers through his incredibly soft hair. Ashlee’s hands were warm against his chest, stroking down his abdomen and catching on his shirt snaps. They broke apart panting, and Clem found the young man stroking his palm in small circles as he tried to regulate his breathing.

“This was the best date I’ve ever been on,” Ashlee proclaimed with a smile.

“I’ll have to try even harder next time,” Clem smiled, leaning in for another soft kiss. Ashlee’s lips tasted too good to try and resist.

“Please…” Ashlee looked up at him with wide liquid eyes, “would you like to come up for a drink?”

Clem took a deep breath, and then another: but he took Ashlee’s hand, squeezed it, and then set it back in Ashlee’s own lap.

“No. I won’t.”

Ashlee bit his lower lip, the hot joy in his eyes suddenly faltering, and Clem took his hand back and kissed his knuckles as gently as he could.

“If I go upstairs with you, I’m not gonna be able to leave again.”

“Well that would be great,” Ashlee purred, wiggling his hips again.

Clem smiled, but shook his head.

“I like you a lot Ashlee; really I do.” The young man looked confused, and Clem smiled reassuringly. “I want to do this right, really right. I don’t want to wonder afterwards if it was just some ‘first date’ thing.”

“Well aren’t you a gentleman?” Ashlee traced his fingertips along the edge of Clem’s jaw. “Technically, this is our second date.”

“Coffee doesn’t really count as a date,” Clem replied.

“It doesn’t?” Ashlee arched a perfect eyebrow, “and how many dates do I have to get before I can convince you to come upstairs?”

“Three.”

“Very traditional,” Ashlee half turned, tucking his leg under himself and followed the line of piping across Clem’s shirt front with one finger. “Does that mean I get a second date?”

“Anything,” Clem breathed, distracted by the friction of Ashlee’s touch.

“Next week,” Ashlee whispered, “come meet me for lunch?” Clem nodded mutely. “I really like you too Clem.” Ashlee blinked softly, then shifted his weight and knelt on the bench seat. “I think you deserve some reward for being such a gentleman.”

Just as Clem was about to ask him what he meant, he found Ashlee’s small hand on the centre of his chest and the slender young man was straddling his lap, fitting easily in the space between Clem’s broad chest and the steering wheel. The movement pushed his skirt further up his shapely thighs and Clem gulped. Ashlee was hot against him, and Clem had been nursing a semi since the moment they’d left the restaurant. The young man grinned and ground his hips against Clem’s crotch.

“Ungh…”

“Mmmm…” Ashlee took his jaw and kissed him again, hot and open. Clem couldn’t help but reach out and place his hands on his narrow waist. Automatically he skimmed lower, drifting to the folds of black material covering Ashlee’s thighs, and he pressed in, gripping the wonderfully firm rounded flesh. Ashlee moaned against him. More than anything else, Clem wanted to know what those thin silk panties he had glimpsed felt like against his fingers. When he pushed up the pleats and touched the young man’s bare skin, Ashlee bit his lower lip and met Clem’s eyes under his long lashes. “Go on, Sugar,” like Clem’s, his accent was thicker when he was thinking without his brain. “Touch me.”

The big farm hand didn’t dare look down, but held Ashlee’s honey-toffee gaze as he slid his hands up the young man’s thighs. Ashley’s lips were wet and pink, the shadows between them deeply inviting, and Clem could feel his pulse jumping where their skin touched. Ashlee’s flesh trembled under his fingers, and inexorably slowly, Clem advanced towards the lace trim of the young man’s panties. The red silk was super smooth under Clem’s fingers, and the fine fabric caught slightly on his rough callouses. Clem gulped audibly as his touch encountered the indefinable soft, hard, and hot quality of Ashley’s silk covered crotch. The young man moaned softly, and Clem knew the noise was going to replay in his head all the way home and for many hours longer. Ashlee kissed him once more, wet and open and full of wonderful promise, and then he smiled and slipped back into the passenger seat. Clem watched the young man rearrange the folds of his skirt neatly before looking up at him with dancing eyes.

“Walk me to the door?”

“Yes, sir.” Clem paced as quickly as he could without running to open Ashlee’s door and hold out his arm as the shorter man jumped down from the tall cab. Clem walked him to the door of the apartment building with his hand resting in the small of his back. “Do you often, um…?” he glanced down at Ashlee’s unusual and incredibly exciting attire. His date beamed happily.

“Well someone’s gotta wear a pretty skirt. Good night, Clem.”

“Goodnight, Ashlee.”

The kiss on the doorstep was everything Clem had hoped it would be, and he watched Ashlee from the sidewalk as the young man let himself into the building and the door latched securely behind him. He could still smell the vanilla perfume of his date when he got back into the truck, and along with the little high-pitched moan of pleasure, it followed him all the way out of the city, and back to the farm.

Clem couldn’t remember a date where he’d had so much fun, laughed so much, or talking about so many things. It was easier to think again without the overwhelming presence of Ashlee there beside him, and Clem wondered if, given the chance, he would ever get used to the forceful yet delicate young man.

Ashlee had asked him about life on the farm some more, and while Clem had kept away from more graphic subjects like assisting with lambing, he described to Ashlee how and why they trimmed the sheep’s feet and what the coloured blocks on the ram’s chest were for. Ashlee had giggled into his wine glass and said maybe humans should have them too, because that way you could see who it was had sex in club bathrooms. They’d talked about music they both liked, and Clem was surprised they both had the same favourite radio station, and that Ashlee also liked great-but-awful television dramas. Clem could easily imagine snuggling up to him on the couch watching an episode of Chicago Fire, though rather than beer Ashlee said his evening pleasure was almost always ice cream and soda. Driving home, Clem decided that when he took Ashlee for lunch he was going to a diner where he could get a coke float and watch the beautiful young man suck the froth up through a straw.

Clem parked up the truck in front of the converted barn, and marvelled suddenly at how many stars he could see as he turned the headlights off. He hated to think that he just got used to them, out in the sticks, but it occurred to him that even in a city the size of Austin, there was enough light pollution that many of them would be obscured. Clem craned his neck to watch the cosmos unfold above him until his eyes watered, then headed inside. His phone had vibrated while he drove, and now Clem opened the message.

Ashlee: What a gentleman!

There was an image attached, and Clem opened it, puzzled at what the young man had sent him. Ashlee must have used the mirror to take the photo, and it showed him, from knees to waist, in the same clothes he’d worn on their date. But the fingers of one hand had caught the hem of his skirt, pulling it up just high enough to show the silk and lace of his red panties and the soft bulge of his crotch.

Clem gulped audibly, even though there was no one around to hear, and decided that getting used to Ashlee was going to take rather longer than he might have thought.