'Carnivale'
Jonesy X Ben
Disclaimer: HBO owns
Set in Season one- After the episode 'Babylon'- small spoiler
Strong sex references & description
---
"Hey Jonesy!" Shouted Samson over the midday sun of the Carnival. Jonesy turned to the small man standing near his trailer.
"What?" He replied bitterly across to his boss. Jones walked on over to him over the dry, burnt lan. His leg support squeaking with every strained step.
"Com'ere." Samson shuffled with his walking cane, waiting patiently for the man to approach him.
"What d'ya want?" Jones was certainly still in mourning after discovering the body of their murdered dancer. It hit everyone hard and by surprise, and Jones needed to take out the anger and injustice he was feeling somehow. Whether that be drinking himself into an early grave like Lodz, or being bitter to anyone and everyone, that included his boss.
"Well, I want you to get off your high horse and sort out those tents for one thing." Samson seemed to sense the attitude being directed at him, even from just for words. "They have been sittin' out 'o' beyond for hours and no-one aint made a move yet." Samson squinted in the sun.
Jonesy nodded solemnly and turned to walk away.
"..And one more thing." Samson stopped the limping man in his tracks. He struggled to turn on his faulty leg. "Take the kid with ya."
Jones was surprised. "What? You tellin' me to take Hawkins?"Jones' obvious disbelief was resonded with a simple nod from Samson. "Fine." Maybe Jones will find some way to take care of setting up the tent without too much hassle.
"Hawkins!?" Jonesy yelled to the farm boy shovelling dirt.
He halted his actions for a moment to check out the noise. Barely able to hear him over his delayed senses cause by the burning sun. Ben first hesitated to answer considering his previous encounters with him had not been all that pleasant, but for some reason, he needed to answer him. "What?"
"Samson wants you to help setting up tents." He glared to look at the younger man, still struggling to distinguish his tender features. "So, come on."
Ben Hawkins looked up at the man just in the distance and reluctantly dropped the shovel he was using to follow Jones. He slowed down, allowing Ben to pass him. He watched the boy as his attractive hips swaggered as he walked on in front, a horny smile came across Jones' lips, he knew how to take away his anger.
An hour later...
Ben was propping up poles for setting up the tents with Jonesy. And Jones noticed how a cute strained look on his face showed every time hie lifted something. He couldn't take much more, his dick would rip through his pants soon. And it wasn't just Clayton Jones who was horny. Ben's small dick had perked up as he watched Jones powerful arms and muscles for over an hour. He always had a soft spot for strong men. Ben took a few seconds to quietly rub himself through his pants, he had no idea Jones watched him do this, he came up behind him and grabbed him by the hair.
Jones held Ben by his dirty, sandy hair as he practically ripped off his belt in excitement, pulling out his large dick, stiff and oozing with pre-cum, Ben took his sex organ gratefully in his mouth, roughly sucking and licking at it like he did it for a living. Jones moaned erotically, sweat dripping from his well-toned body.
Ben rubbed his hands down his chest, just before Jones pulled his dick-head out of Ben's desperate mouth and aims his weapon at the gasping boy, complacent under his hard grip. And pumping his rock with both sweating hands, Ben expected what would soon follow. And indeed it happened. Jonesy shot, again, and again, spilling his hot juices all over his face, still with both hands, his face contorting in pure ecstasy as three more loads of the thick white, sticky juice quickly squirted into his cute face.
Within seconds of the best orgasm he'd ever had, he threw Ben back to the ground, ripped off his pants and rammed his huge, dripping cock up his tight, virgin butt hole. The poor unsuspecting boy had no idea, he screamed in pain, the cum on his face melding with sweat. The tent had become a circus of deep moans, groans, grunts and screams, along with the violent sound of flesh against flesh. "Oh oh oh yeah, take it! You filthy queer!" He slapped Ben's buttocks hard, leaving a raw palm mark. Jones treat him like a slut. And he loved it. He loved being called a bitch and a slut, it only made him scream louder...