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The 3 stories of daddy and admirer erotica presented below are courtesy of Mature Gay Stories - the nets biggest collection of stories of mature daddies fucking mature daddies or younger admirers.

My girlfriends father

"That's it, Boy. Ah, fuck, yeah. You take what's coming to ya'. Take it like a good buddy. Take it like MY good buddy. Is that what you're needing? You want Daddy to fuck you full-stroke, huh?" I could feel the entire length of Mr. Stewart's velvety shaft ease it's way into, then all the way out of me, all the way out--including the helmet-shaped head--out of my body.

"Yeah, yeah, ah, oh," and then I remembered myself, "ah, Yes, Sir. Man, fuck your little buddy's hairy hole. Uh, ah, anything to please you, Sir. Anything you need, Daddy. Anything...," I insisted as I looked up at his hairy torso. My girlfriend's dad was so hot, there were a million ways or more I wanted to help him out.

"Scott, uh, I couldn't stop it," he apologized as he continued to mount me royally: "When you slipped on that rock, I couldn't help but grab your fine ass to catch you. You understand that, right?" He looked at me with deep brown eyes. His bearded face showed such tenderness and insistence, I had to open up to his full-shaft assault on my butthole. I was lost in the beauty of the moment where his hunger to breed me and my longing for him were the whole focus of our worlds--the whole focus of over six weeks of dating his daughter.

Cindy was pretty--she had some big tits for 18, and all the guys at school thought I was a stud for getting her to date me, but what they didn't know was that I had almost dumped her, early on. Then, one Saturday afternoon about five weeks ago, coming home from a swimming date, Cindy's dad, Mr. Stewart, came into the kitchen fresh from cutting the yard. She had actually left to get something out of her room, go to the bathroom, or whatever...I can't remember. What I do remember was 200-plus pounds of sweaty, muscled, hairy man--fifty-years-old, or so--suddenly, in a cramped kitchen with me, drying himself off and introducing himself as "...Doug Stewart. I'm Cindy's father." With his hand touching mine, the sight and smell of him, I was shooting almost a full boner in my red trunks and was speechless. As a man, Mr. Stewart was my forbidden ideal. I never would have allowed myself to admit it, but I knew I felt attraction for men--older men, not the college prima donnas that my fraternity brothers all fought over. If I had to describe what got me excited at the time, the picture would have looked a lot like the man whose hand I was shaking. I not only shook the man's hand, acting on auto-pilot I placed my other hand on his left arm and squeezed. He was solid--a mountain of hairy man, ripe from the fields.

Dazed, I said, "Hi, I'm Scott, Scott Barrio. Cindy and me, we just 'uh, we just 'uh went for a quick swim." I kept my handshake firm so he wouldn't think me a sissy or anything, and I began to worry that I might have kept his hand too long. I let go of his arm with my left hand and added, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stewart," before letting go of his hairy right hand.

Now, those thick, hairy arms were locked on either side of me as I felt his sweaty, hairy mounds of chest muscle push against my calves with his every thrust, and his handsome face began to strain as his dick plunged deeper into me than it had before. This time his sweat wasn't from pushing a lawn mower; this time his sweat was from ramming me. Here I was in a tent, on my back, being fucked by the man of my dreams, and he was saying things that were making my head spin with lust and romantic desire. He crushed down on me, bending my legs all the way to my ears, and I relished the feel of his massive, hairy body rubbing against the light fur of mine. Looking at me squarely in the face he seemed to be confessing as he told me, "Oh, Scott, you have the most haunting blue eyes," and then he kissed me, surging both his tongue and his swollen member into me. After sharing a brief battle of tongues and feeling his rampant thrusts into me for a few minutes, his humping settled down some as he said, "The first time I saw you in that red bathing suit, I got such a hard woody. I knew I needed to rip that suit off your butt and plant my face in there before I planted a whole lot more. Oh, yeah, Baby Boy. Oh, fuck, yeah...I wanna' seed ya'." He rubbed my furry tummy as he said this, "I want to plant my nut into that sexy taut belly of yours and feel my cock deliver my hot, fresh juice to ya', Son. Will you accept my cumload, Scott? Will you be my Baby Boy, Scotty? Will you be the tough little buddy who helps his father-in-law out--helps his father-in-law to get his nut? Yeah, it'll be our little secret. Just our little secret. O, fuck, yes! You wanna' be Daddy's special furry little buddy, huh, Bud? Huh? Can I seed you deep?"

"Oh, hell, yeah! I want you to, Daddy. I need your hot cum. Fill me up, you massive stud, you. I wanna' take Daddy's FUCK LOAD!" I was getting loud, but it didn't matter. We were out here alone, just getting to know one another, and I was totally and completely in love with this man. If he wanted me to marry Cindy, if that would assure that I'd get the pleasure of his hot rod inside of me again, then, well, sure. I asked him, "You liked lookin' at me in that red suit, huh?"

He kissed me again and looked in my eyes as I felt him pound my buns more vigorously. Breaking our kiss, he kept looking at me and tweaking my nipples as I reached to jack my dick. He brushed my hand away and said, "No, Scott, I wanna try to help you there." He took hold of my dick and, in time to his own driving inside me, he masturbated my shaft. He seemed to enjoy both fucking me and manipulating my cock with his hands. I loved feeling every bit of him as I offered up my hole to that achingly hard shaft of his. Now, I felt all but the head come in and out of me as he pressed his chest into mine again and kissed me passionately. I kissed back and felt his hand moving up and down between our tightly pressed bodies helping me towards an edge I knew was there but was afraid to go over.

"God, I'm so close," Mr. Stewart said. I was, too. Each surge of his organ against my insides was one more push towards that edge that he wanted me to cross. His hairy arms grabbed my hips, and he hammered me for a bit before saying, "Scotty, I'm gonna go for it. Yeah, I'm gonna make you my boy, you handsome cuss. I'm gonna seed you deep and hard, but after I cum, I want to keep my dick in you. You understand? I wanna' bust that cherry nut of yours in all of it's fully glory, then I wanna stay right there inside of my Baby Boy, stay right in him and let our bodies experience each other fully--for the first time. You got that, Baby? You ready to receive my blessing, Young Man? You ready to be my Son, Scott?"

"I'm ready," I said with as much solemnity as I could muster as he started driving that thick man-rod of his in and out of my asshole. He kept stroking my cock with his thrusts, and I could see him absorbed in watching our hard dicks and my open fuck-hole. "I'm ready," I said again, almost involuntarily. I could feel my balls pulling up as I felt his cock expanding. "I'm ready," I said again, as I began to relax my legs back further to receive every inch of his invasion. I wanted to give him full access to anything he wanted from me. I wanted to jump over that edge with him. I wanted to be his boy. I started yelling: "Oh, God, I'm gonna cum, Doug!" I looked up at his very pleased face, "UH! HUH! You got me! You fuckin' got me--OH FUCK, DAMN!" I was spewing cum all over myself and my legs and whole body convulsed with excruciating pleasure. I could feel the muscles of my ass spasm and milk the sweet juice from Doug's shaft, my new Daddy's shaft. He plunged in for one last hard-ramming stroke, and BOOM! I was his boy. I could feel the pulses of his thick dick as Mr. Stewart took my ass for his ultimate satisfaction. I wanted to feel this sensation forever. In some ways it felt like he came in me for just about that long. Mr. Stewart was speaking some unintelligible language in cries and moans as he blessed me deep with his attentions. He rode me down into the murmurs of complete release. We stayed together, tightly bound, as our bodies twitched and thrust out the last of our orgasms. We rested, with him still inside of me and my legs lowered, somewhat, until I felt his beautiful cock expand again. He stretched my legs back to my ears again and began to tell me how happy he was when he first met me and found out I was dating his daughter. As he began thrusting into me again, he looked me over, kissed me and said, "I'm gonna have the most beautiful grandkids." The he fucked me even longer the second time. Without taking his cock out, he had me turn on my front side and take him from behind...[





Rule of thumb

I was a 19-year-old hippie then. My tiny little hometown was seven miles from a college town. The huge university had over 10,000 students so there was a lot of student-type traffic cruising back and forth between the two towns. A lot of students lived in my hometown because the rent was cheaper. A lot of them didn't have cars: there wasn't a bus service between the towns, and there were hardly any taxis, which were expensive anyway. The only other mode of transportation (which was safer then than it is now) to go to class or to work or just to travel between the towns for a party was to hitchhike. When I did have a car I almost always saw hitchhikers and always picked them up. When I didn't have a car -- which was most of the time -- I was on the road with my thumb out, too. It was actually quite fun. Hitching and giving rides was just a way of life for us then. There was also a form of etiquette between riders and drivers. The biggest rule was the sharing of drugs. The idea was the rider supplied and offered to smoke a joint with the driver, and the two of us got nice and high on the short ride between the towns (I quit doing drugs when I was in my early 20's). Once in a great while one of us would have other drugs to share, but usually it was pot; either a joint or a pipe full. When I hitchhiked I always tried to make sure I had some pot with me to share with whoever picked me up. Since the only hitchhikers and drivers I'd run into then were college aged or younger, the odds were real good of getting high and everyone knew the rules.

Now if you were really lucky - you got picked up and got laid. That of course didn't happen very often at all, but it did happen to me a few times. Sometimes the guy would reach over and jack me off while he drove, and sometimes I'd lean over and suck his cock while he drove. A couple of times we found a place to pull off the highway and got naked and fucked. Once in a while driving down the highway you'd see a car pulled over and off the road. You'd see the driver just sitting in his car, and it was safe to assume that he was getting a blowjob - you just couldn't see who was leaning over giving him one.

In those days of the mid 70's, "free love" was all the rage. A few of sayings of the day were, "If it feels good, do it," "Make Love, Not War," and "Don't knock it till you've tried it." People were fucking all over the place, and outdoors too. Especially in the huge grounds of the university it wasn't all that unusual to walk around the wooded areas and hear, if not walk onto, a couple of people in various stages of a good fuck. Mostly straight people, but still, it was a great mood of the times.

So it also wasn't unusual to see a car pulled off a road somewhere with a guy sitting in the driver's seat not appearing to be doing anything - except you knew he was getting his cock sucked. Most times the cops would just drive on by because they assumed it was a girl doing the sucking, and anything hetero was Ok even if it technically broke the law (having sex in public). If they suspected it was two guys though, all hell would break loose.

When I was 19 I had already made the decision to join the Air Force and had already seen the recruiter and started the paperwork. He needed information I didn't have handy so I had to run back and forth between my hometown and the recruiter's office in the college town. Since I didn't have a car at the time, I hitchhiked back and forth.

On the way to the college town I had my thumb out and a car pulled over. Hitching for sex wasn't going on then, at least not in my hometown, and no one wore any teen slut kind of clothes in order to advertise. I was wearing a typical outfit for the day: Army kind of shirt - unbuttoned. I had big bell-bottom jeans with several patches on them. Some of the patches were needed to cover up holes, and some were decorative peace symbols and flags and such just sewed on here and there. My hair was past shoulder length, parted in the middle, and I wore a headband. It was summer so my shoes were sandals. I could have blended in with any group of young people anywhere.

I noticed the car that pulled over had an older guy in it. I didn't really care since I was in something of a hurry anyway. I'd already smoked a few joints, and so was buzzing real good and didn't worry that I wouldn't smoke any more on the way. I assumed that the old guy didn't smoke pot anyway. So I jumped in his car, got a look at the guy, and burst out laughing.

He was an older guy all right, but he looked like he was trying to put on the air of still being hip with us kids, still with it, and that he still had it. I was thinking I'd be real surprised if he even remembered what "it" was!

He was wearing dressy bell-bottom pants that were a light pink and dark red plaid. Now in those days the bell-bottoms really showed off a body. They were hip huggers and low riders. They fit real tight around the waist and the butt and the thighs. Crotches were always real prominent and the butts looked great! At least you looked great if you had a flat stomach. If you had any kind of a gut at all, the bell-bottoms just made you look stupid. This guy didn't have a huge gut, but he had one, and the bell-bottoms only served to draw attention to it. But I guess he thought he looked good so he wore them anyway. And the plaid just made him look worse! He had a light pink shirt on with a red bandana tied around his neck like it was taking the place of a tie. He had on dark red socks that had gold threads all through them so it looked like they were sprinkled with gold glitter. The socks disappeared into some polished brilliant white shoes. I tell you what, guys, this dude looked like a classic picture of a dork! His hair was silver gray and about as long as mine was, parted in the middle but no headband. He was the first older guy I'd ever seen who had long hair like we kids did and the whole look did NOT work! When he greeted me he talked with a really pronounced lisp and I knew right away he was gay -- gay and dorky -- REAL dorky. With all the pot in me I couldn't hold back and got in his car and just started laughing.

I tried not to look at him and laugh right in his face, and kept looking ahead, but every time a spasm of laugh calmed down I'd glance over at him and just start laughing all over again. He was trying to laugh with me, and I guess he didn't pick up that I was laughing at him. He asked me if I was high and I told him I was. That was a good excuse to cover why I was laughing, and I didn't really care if he stopped the car and told me to get out anyway. I knew I could get another ride, and probably with someone I wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with. But he just laughed and said he knew what I meant.

I laughed even harder at the thought of him, "knowing what I meant." I had long assumed that any one over 30 didn't do drugs or know anything about what us young folks did and this guy was certainly WAY over 30! Just to test him I asked him if he wanted to smoke a joint, and I was shocked when he said he did! So I figured what the hell and pulled out a joint and lit it, took a hit and passed it to him. I was surprised when he actually took a hit of it, and held the smoke in a long time. After a few hits he was pretty high and the whole thought of me sitting in a car with a really stupidly dressed old guy who was trying to act young and smoking pot together just made me start laughing all over again.

When the joint was about halfway done, he passed it to me, and then let his hand fall onto my thigh. That's all he did, just let his hand lay there. I remember thinking, 'Damn - you mean this guy still gets horny !' If I weren't high I probably would have turned him down. Nicely since he was gay, but I'd have turned him down anyway. Since I was really stoned though, I thought the whole thing was funny, so I took a hit and just waited to see what he'd do.

He didn't do anything else right away. He took his hand off my leg to take the joint, then he'd take a hit, pass it back to me and let his hand fall back on my leg. I thought I'd tease him a bit so I leaned back some and spread my legs a little. He started slowly moving his hand up and down my thigh. I couldn't believe it, but I was actually getting turned on by it (I'm sure the pot helped there!) When I put the joint in a roach clip he told me to go ahead and finish it and just kept slowly rubbing my thigh, now and then giving it a light squeeze.

I figured what the hell? It couldn't get much funnier than this and there was no one around to laugh at me, so I thought I'd have some fun teasing this guy. I put my hand on his and moved his hand right to my crotch. I thought I'd maybe let out a little moan or something to see what he'd do, but he beat me to it. He squeezed my crotch and even though I didn't care if it happened or not, my dick actually started getting hard. But I was, after all, still a teenager then. And like any teenager if there was any kind of sexual overtones at all you could have told me I was an ugly sack of shit and I would have gotten hard anyway. So I just leaned back and smoked the roach and let him play with my dick through my jeans.

He was really fondling me now. He'd rub my cock and rub my thigh and go right back to my cock. He was working it pretty good, and it was trying to straighten out in the confines of my tight jeans. I thought this was the weirdest thing I'd ever done, but I was so high I didn't care. So I reached down and unzipped my pants and his hand dove right inside. I wasn't wearing any underwear so his hand immediately wrapped around my cock and squeezed. He sucked in a gulp of air. I remember wondering how many years it had been since he'd felt any other cock except his own.

I unsnapped my pants and let him pull my cock out and stroke it. I egged him on by moaning a little and watching him jack me off and smiling. He was moaning himself. He reached inside my pants again and worked my balls out and played with them, too. At that point I guess I started to feel sorry for the guy. I assumed he hadn't had any action since his hair turned gray -- whenever that was -- so I thought I'd go ahead a let him have a thrill as long as no one saw us, and I asked him if he wanted to suck me off. He just closed his eyes and smiled real big. I remember thinking it was dangerous with him trying to drive with his eyes closed!

We were coming up on the entrance to the local airport. The airport was real tiny, but had an area that was out of the way where cars could park and watch the planes land and take off. The area was always empty since the airport only handled about one plane a day. I'd been there before with a couple of other guys and it was kind of a known place to go and suck cock in your car since there was nothing around. The drive up to it was long enough to see someone coming in time to sit up and stuff your cock back in your pants before whoever was coming could figure out what was going on. I started to tell him to go there, but he already had his blinker on. He made the turn and headed to the parking lot. I knew then that he'd been there before -- and once again I was shocked. I even started snickering at the thought of ever going into that parking lot and seeing a couple of older guys going at it in their car.

Normally if the guy doing the sucking was the driver, the guys would switch places in the car so the guy getting sucked would always be sitting in the driver's seat in case anyone drove by. This guy had his hand wrapped around my cock while he drove up the lane and parked. He was a bit too anxious and I was a bit too high and we didn't switch places. He just put his hands on my thighs and leaned over. Thinking back, it seems like he was moving in slow motion, almost as if he was contemplating my cock while he was getting closer to it. My cock was standing straight up and twitching when he leaned over and swallowed it whole.

I sucked in a breath and my eyes widened. I was surprised with some things about this guy -- shocked even -- but what I really wasn't ready for was finding out that this dorky and stupid looking old guy could SUCK!! Soon as his mouth clamped down on my cock I thought he was about to suck my balls right up through it. I gasped and choked on the hit I'd just taken of the joint and he kept right on sucking. Every time his head bobbed up I raised my butt up off the seat a little and it felt like he was just sucking so hard that he was sucking me right off the seat. I automatically put one hand on the back of his head but he sure didn't need any help.

His car was one of those where the front seat was all one seat; you know, a bench type seat. I don't remember doing it on purpose but I found myself squirming around and turning to try to face him. I thought to myself, 'Hell with the joint,' and without realizing it at the time I tossed the joint out the window -- roach clip still attached (I was really flyin'!) I put both hands on his head to fuck his face and he met each thrust and swallowed my cock over and over again.

One thing about bell-bottom pants, they are real easy to take off. I don't even remember how he did it, but I wound up with my back against the car door, one leg over the back of the seat, sandals still on my feet, and my jeans were on the floor. I spread my legs wide as I could in the car and his head stayed right where it was with my cock in his mouth. He sucked from the very tip of my piss slit all the way to my bush over and over again. His tongue was working magic all on its own and I just moaned and said things I don't even remember what they were. He put a hand between my legs and worked a couple fingers up my ass. Until then I had no intention of letting him fuck me, but by the time he'd started fingering my butt I was ready to let him do anything he wanted. I figured if he could fuck like he could suck, I wanted it. I was almost at the point where I didn't care who knew about it or who heard about it. I was just feeling too damn good with the pot in my head and that damn industrial strength vacuum cleaner mouth of his on my cock.

His two fingers up my ass found my prostate real quick. I know it didn't happen that way for real but it seems like I remember feeling those fingers actually wrap themselves around that gland and squeeze. When I exploded in his mouth my ass wasn't even touching the seat. My little butt cheeks were squeezed together so tight I doubt he could have pulled his fingers away even if he'd wanted to. In those days I could shoot several squirts and I was getting used to seeing some of my cum run down my cock from the guy's mouth as he tried to swallow and keep up while I shot... Not THIS guy! Dammit I could probably fuck his nose and he'd just inhale each squirt of cum. Seems like my cum shot out of my cock and went right down his throat without touching anything in between. He sucked for another couple of minutes after I got done shooting and I just sat there with my legs spread and whimpered.

Finally he let my cock slide out of his mouth and he sat up. I'd made some assumptions about this guy, and today I'm thinking I probably didn't fool him for a second with all my laughing when I first got in his car, but now he was the one snickering as he knew he had me. I didn't care. He deserved it. I just sat there with my legs spread. Seems like my cock was looking at me, waiting for me to tell it what the hell just happened, and I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. If he'd pulled his cock out right then I'd have gone down on him without a second thought. But when he reached between his legs. I looked, and there was a wet spot on his pants meaning he'd already shot his load. I didn't realize it then, but he probably couldn't get it hard enough and maybe that's why he didn't make a move to fuck me.

I tried to tell him how good it was but I doubt I made any sense. He just reached over and patted my cock a few times and thanked me for letting him get a taste of it. Then I remembered I'd tossed my roach clip out the window somewhere and said I needed to go find it. I reached for my jeans but he stopped me and with a chuckle said to just go on and go find it. He wanted me to walk around the parking lot without my pants so he could watch me! No one was around so I figured if I couldn't let him in my ass I could at least let him have a look at it. Besides, I was still high. So I got out of his car and walked around half bent over searching the ground. I even hiked my shirttail up over my back so he could have a real good look at my ass and flexed my cheeks a lot. When I saw my roach clip I kept my legs straight and bent way over to pick up the clip so he could get a look at my smooth hole.

I got my pants back on and stuffed my still wet cock in them while he drove me the rest of the way into town. He was back to looking dorky and stupid but I wasn't laughing any more. I just sat in his car with a big smile on my face. He dropped me off on a corner in town and before he could say anything I reached over and squeezed his hand and thanked him.

They say the best lessons learned in life are the ones you learn from your own experience, and that's true. That day I learned two. The first was that the only safe assumption to make about any guy of any age is if he can open his mouth, he can suck: just like any other guy. In fact, since then I've always had a philosophy that any assumption I make about anybody is written in pencil until I find out for sure. The other lesson I learned was to always keep a good supply of erasers on hand because I sure go through them.

Well guys, this little tale ends the same way too many of them end: I never saw him again. I remember once when I borrowed a friend's car I'd just smoked a joint and was thinking about him and so drove into the lot of the airport on the chance I might see his car there, but of course it wasn't. I found I was disappointed about it. He could have been a transient just passing through town but I doubted it or he wouldn't have known about the parking lot at the airport. I don't even know if he's still alive today as I never asked him exactly how old he was. He was already gray and wrinkled and this happened to me well over 20 years ago. Even if I saw him today I probably wouldn't recognize him, but I'll never forget that blowjob or the lesson he taught me.





Rest stop

We were tooling down the highway in the early evening at a pretty good clip in my BMW Z4 Roadster when Perry started to get frisky. Perry was this hulking blond roommate of mine who also was on the football team, but who was a couple of years older than I was and played first-string tailback. I'd just started college this year and was still warming the bench, although I'd impressed the coach pretty much with my catching and running ability.

I was headed home for spring break, and I really needed a break. Between the studies, trying to keep my football scholarship, and my part-time job as a model for men's wear catalogs, I was really zonked out and needed a break.

Perry had asked me for a ride to the house of a friend of his in a town near mine, and, fool that I was, I had agreed. He was a cocky bastard--always on the move and exercising his mouth and topping any of the guys who appealed to him. The coach never said anything about this, because he was topping Perry. With Perry's status on the football team, and his hunky good looks, he didn't have too much trouble getting his cock in his ass of choice. But thus far I had held off all of his advances myself. I'd fooled around with guys in high school, but not all that seriously, and I just didn't want Perry to have any power over me.

I guess my stonewalling had only increased his determination to get into my pants, though, because he admitted to me as we tooled down the highway that he'd only asked for this ride because he wanted to do me. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have been wearing the comfortable sweat shorts and T-shirt I had on for the journey.

"Hey, I like you in that T-shirt, man," he turned and said to me, "Sets off your pecs and biceps real well. You're turning me on, Dale. Let's have the shirt off. See, mine is off."

"Cool it, Perry. Just sit back and relax. We're still several hours from home."

"Can't cool it, Dale. You're making me hot." He ran his hand up under my T and slowly worked his way up from my belly to one of my nipples. I slapped at the hand with one of mine, causing the car to swerve a bit on the pavement.

"Whoa. Hold steady, Dale. Look, you've got me excited."

I instinctively looked down in his lap, and, sure enough, his pants were tenting at the crotch, which was quite a feat, considering how tight his jeans were. I already knew he had an oversized package, because he had been careful to show it to me several times in the locker room shower.

"Knock it off, Perry." I didn't give you this ride just so you could proposition me again.

"Yes you did, sport. I didn't need this ride. I've got a car of my own. I assumed you knew that and were game. I asked for the ride because I'm dying to fuck you."

"Well, it isn't going to happen," I answered with irritation. "And put that hand somewhere else."

"Of course, anything you say, Dale," Perry answered with a laugh. His hand slowly moved back down my torso and across my belly and under the waistband of my shorts.

"Ah, very nice," he was saying as his hand got the measure of my cock.

"Stop That! We're going to crash," I yelled. And, indeed, the car was weaving in the lane. I pulled over to the slow lane and brought the car down to the speed limit.

"OK, OK," Perry answered. "That's not what I'm really interested in anyway." And with that, his fingers went under my balls and glided across the perineum in search of my asshole.

"I said stop."

"Open your legs to me," Perry commanded in a husky voice. The fingers of his other hand got entwined in my hair, and his lips went to the side of my neck. He was tracing my carotid with his tongue. For some reason, I responded to his command. I shifted my left leg over to where it was touching the door, and widened the stance on my right knee as well as I could while still keeping my foot on the accelerator. His middle finger found my asshole and pushed in up to the knuckle. I gasped and felt like my legs were turning to jelly.

"No, don't. Perry," I pleaded in a suddenly hoarse voice. "I'm trying to drive."

But he paid me no heed. His mouth traveled down my torso and swallowed my cock, which was engorging under his attention. My pelvis instinctively tilted up to meet his mouth, and he was able to get a second, and then a third finger into my asshole and to push them deeper. I felt him rubbing on my prostate. I was melting.

"God, at least let me pull over somewhere," I pleaded. Luckily I saw the sign for a turnoff into a rest area in the next mile, because he just kept on sucking and rotating his fingers in my ass.

The car was barely creeping along and I was fighting to keep it between the lines as we took the exit to the rest stop. I bypassed the well-lit car park and pulled behind the building into the truck parking lot and over to an area that was as far away from the trucks parked there as I could get.

The top was down on the roadster, and I propped my left leg up on the top of the windshield and just lay my head back on the head rest while Perry finished blowing me off and playing with his fingers in my ass. After I'd cum and he'd licked me off, he brought his lips to mine and gave me a deep kiss. The fingers of his left hand were still entwined in my hair and he was holding my head back on the armrest in a hair lock. His heel of his right hand was still lodged under my balls, and his fingers were up my ass.

"Climb over here on my lap," he commanded in that husky voice of his. "I'm going to fuck you now."

"No, you're not," I responded in a strong voice. "Not here and not now. Possibly not ever! I have to piss, so I'm going into the men's room, and then we're going on and you're not touching me again. Or I can bail you out right here." Without waiting for a response, I brought my left leg down, threw open the door, adjusted my shorts, and marched off to the building with the rest rooms.

I was standing at a urinal, pissing, when a hulking, dark-haired dude, very hairy, but handsome in a Spanish sort of way, came into the rest room. I'd seen him moving in my direction from a group of trucks across the lot as I headed for the facilities, so I assumed he was one of the truckers putting in here for a rest. He smiled at me when he entered the rest room and then moved over to the urinal at the end of the row and unzipped his pants. He rolled out a thick, but not unusually long, pecker, and held it and showed it to me before turning to toward the urinal. I got a good look at him, but shifted my eyes to the tiles in front of me to let him know I wasn't interested.

Then Perry entered the rest room and unzipped himself and pulled his long cock out before he'd come anywhere close to the urinal. He took the urinal right beside me and made sexually insinuating comments all of the time our cocks were streaming. I could have died from the embarrassment.

He was finished before I was and, without unzipping, came in back of me, kissed me on the neck, and rubbed his cock on the small of my back.

"Sure you don't want some of this, honey?" he asked sweetly. "You got me worked up, and I'm dying to get my nuts off."

"Just stop, Perry. You're embarrassing yourself as much as you're embarrassing me."

A stall door banged open across the room, and both Perry and I jumped in surprise. The dark trucker at the end of the line of urinals didn't flinch, however, so he must have known someone was in that stall.

I quickly pulled my shorts up as I turned to see a mountain of a man sitting stark naked on a toilet in the stall and pulling at one of the most enormous cocks I'd ever seen. He was all muscle, with flaming red hair, worn long, in a pony tail.

"If cutie there don't want you, Blondie, come over here. I'll give you a blow job you won't forget for some time. God, look at you. You work out most of the day?"

"First-string college tailback," Perry responded with pride. "Figures; come over here and give me a taste of that. I could tell you what a tailback is good for."

"Sure, any port in a storm."

I looked on with fascination and horror as the man mountain pulled Perry into the stall at his side and went down on his cock expertly, getting Perry to moan and gasp with ecstasy within seconds.

The guy at the end of the urinals watched for only a minute and than made like he was coming over to do the same to me, but I waved him away and stepped back. Taking the hint, he left the rest room.

"At least close the door in case someone else comes in," I said, as I pushed the stall door closed. Upon reflection, I decided that Perry getting his rocks off this way was better than continuing to hit on me for the rest of the trip, so I finally shouted at him over the door, "I'll give you fifteen minutes and then I'm pulling the car around to the car lot. If you're not back out in twenty minutes, I'm tossing your bag out and leaving you here."

I took the husky mumble I got back as agreement. So, I marched out of the restroom facility and back to the car and sat there for fifteen minutes. I noticed that the Spanish-looking guy from the men's room was sitting on a picnic table nearby and watching me. After the fifteen minutes, I turned the key in the ignition, planning to drive around to the front of the facility. But nothing happened. The car didn't start. The engine didn't even attempt to turn over. I tried it several times--nothing.

The Spanish-looking truck driver strolled over to the car, put his hand on the window ledge, and looked down at the dash board with a concerned look on his face, as if maybe he could tell from a dark dash what the problem might be.

"Got a problem?" he asked.

"Yeah, it won't start," I answered. "Guess I'll have to look under the hood."

"Sounds like that would be a waste of time. I think you need a mechanic."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Guess I'll have to call AAA."

"Doubt they'll be out here to fast," the trucker said. "And this might not be a good place for you and your friend to be after dark. It'll get dark soon."

I had to admit he was right. The truckers I'd seen here had been pretty direct about what they wanted to do with Perry and me.

"I'll tell you what, though," he said. "I know of a mechanic living nearby. I know that he works on Beamers too. I can drive you there and back, and he can get this baby fixed quick like."

"Hmmmm, I don't know. Maybe."

"All I'd ask is for the same consideration your friend was giving that trucker back in the men's room."

"What? I don't . . ."

"Just let me suck you off, like's happened with your friend, and I'll help you get this car fixed up."

I was pretty scared now. "I don't think I can leave my friend like that. In fact, I think I'd better go over and check with him before making any decisions about getting the car fixed."

"Oh, I don't think he's in any mood to be going anywhere for the moment. We have plenty of time to connect and get your car fixed before he'll be ready to go, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"Get out of the car, and come on over here, and I'll show you what I mean."

I got out of the car and followed the Spanish-looking trucker over to where a group of trucks were parked together. Beyond their trucks, shielded from the rest facilities, there was a picnic area, with tables, and I saw what the trucker meant. I saw Perry stretched out on a picnic table, totally nude. A beefy black guy with flowing dreadlocks who I'd never seen before was standing over Perry's head, his torso arched over Perry's and his mouth working Perry's cock. Perry's mouth, in turn, was working the black guy's cock. Perry's legs were splayed out, in the grip of the redheaded monster from the toilet stall, who had his dick up Perry's asshole and who was pumping away at Perry's ass. I thought idiotically for a second that Perry was being shown the redhead's definition of a tailback.

I stood there in horror and fascination--watching Perry get sucked and plowed at both ends.

The Spanish-looking trucker stood close behind me. I felt his arms go around me. He pulled my T-shirt off, and he had his big, beefy hands covering my pecs. I could feel the hardness of his cock at the small of my back.

"It looks like your friend is used to this," the man whispered in my ear. "But I'm willing to bet you aren't ready to party like that. Come with me. I'll blow you in the privacy of my truck's sleeper cabin, where none of the rest of them can see us. And they we'll go get your car fixed and you and your friend can get out of here. How about it? If you won't come with me, there's no telling what will happen to you out here."

One of his hands had traveled down below my waistband and to my crotch, and he was gently pulling my cock. Between that sensation and what I could see going on on the picnic table, I was hardening and lengthening pretty solidly. I felt trapped, wondering what would be the lesser of the evils of this situation. I made my decision as I watched the huge cock of the redhead stroke in and out of Perry's asshole. Perry was used to this; I certainly wasn't.

"Okay, I guess that would be best," I whispered.

"My truck's just over here," the trucker said. He led me over to a huge semi with a large cabin behind the driving compartment. He opened the door to this cabin, and I saw that there was a twin-sized bed in it along with some shelves, a compact john, and a small refrigerator and cooking unit. The bed was covered with pillows and there were shiny hold bars on the cabin wall at either end of the bed.

"There, stretch yourself up on those pillows and get comfortable," he said in a friendly voice. I laid down, with my legs sort of dangling off to the side, and he pulled off my shorts and briefs and knelt between my legs. I tensed up as he gently took me by the balls and the root of my cock with ran his tongue over and around my cock helmet. I could see him tracing a thick vein running up the side of my cock with his tongue.

He took his mouth away and said, "Easy there, we'll go slowly. You have a beautiful cock. In fact everything about your body is beautiful." He went back to running his tongue around my helmet and then down the sides of my cock, while his free hand went to my belly and then on up my torso, tracing my muscles lightly, stroking me into relaxation. He surprised me. He was a trucker, but his attentions were lot less rough and insistent than Perry's blow job had been.

He slid his mouth over my cock, and I began to moan and sigh softly for him. His free hand went between my thighs, and I opened my stance for him, as he gently massaged my leg muscles and stroked my inner thighs. I groaned and arched my back. the tip of one of his fingers went to my asshole, and I tensed again.

"A blow job; we agreed on just a blow job," I said with alarm.

"OK, OK. I was just trying to add extra pleasure to it." His mouth slid over my cock and just kept sliding until I felt his lips at my root. He had deep throated me and I felt warmth and pressure at all points on my cock. I gasped and grabbed his head with both of my hands. He was cupping my butt cheeks with his hands and pumping me with his mouth now in long, relentless strokes. I writhed under him, alternately struggling against him and meeting his rhythm, until I felt like I was going to explode.

He had a finger at my asshole again, and I no longer cared. He held it there for nearly a minute, just covering my hole, and then I felt him moving around the rim in a circular motion, rubbing me, and then he moved it back to the center. All the time his mouth was going up and down on my cock and his tongue was at my piss hole, the tip pushing its way in.

He didn't have to penetrate my ass with his now well-lubricated finger. I pushed my butt cheeks down on him, pulling his finger in myself, all the way to where the pad of his finger rubbed up against my prostate gland. I moaned loudly, and tensed, ready to shoot my load.

But then his mouth came off my cock and he held me there, very still, until my breathing became normal again and I had passed the urge to ejaculate.

I looked at him with a question mark written all over my face. The deal was that I would let him suck me off, but when he'd brought me to the brink, he hadn't collected on the deal. I needed to get this over with, get my car fixed, and get back on the road.

"What . . . ?" I started to ask.

"Shush," he said. "I don't want you to cum yet. I want you to come inside me. I want you to fuck me."

"That wasn't the deal," I objected, as I tried to struggle up from the bed and head for the door. But then he got serious with me. He backhanded me across the mouth to stun me, and then he produced a pair of handcuffs connected with a good three feet of chain, and cuffed one of my hands, drew the chain through the slot in the hold bar on the side of the truck at the head of the bed and then cuffed my other hand. He whipped out a black rubber gag with a mouthpiece that looked like a thick, four-inch cock with a bulbous head and stuffed the dildo in my mouth and tied the gag at the back of my head.

Then he opened a drawer, took out a handful of condoms, and opened one packet and rolled the condom on my dick. He climbed up astride my lap and tried to sit on my cock. I fought him, though, not allowing him to get my cock into his hole. In frustration, he pushed his hairy torso down onto my chest, put his mouth very close to my ear, and pinched my nostrils together with his fingers. I couldn't breath. The gag completely filled my mouth, and I had to keep my nostrils open to be able to breath.

"Now relax and don't fight me on this or I'm going to snuff you," he whispered in my ear. "Nod your head to let me know you're going to cooperate."

I held out for as long as I could, but when I felt my lungs were going to burst, I nodded my head and he released his hold on my nose.

I was still pumping air into my lungs when I felt my cock at his hole and being slowly encased in the clinging warmth of his canal. I just lay there, letting him do the pumping, but increasingly enjoying the friction of my cock against his ass walls. He had one hand pulling at my balls when he could get to them in a pumping down stroke and the other hand buried planted on my sternum, with one thumb squarely pushing and rubbing on one of my nipples. He was riding me like he'd ride a bull in arena, letting me know that he liked my length and thickness just fine.

This went on for several minutes before I heard the door to the truck open and a jumble of arms and legs and engorged dicks filling the sleeper behind the cab. Perry and his redheaded and black monster friends were joining the party. They'd all been tossing off beers.

"What?" I heard Perry bellow. "That was my lay. I was going to be the first to fuck Dale."

"Well, you can still be the first," my Spanish assaulter tossed amicably over his shoulder. "I've got him fucking me now. I haven't had more than one finger in his ass yet. Here, here are some condoms. His hole ain't busy."

I stared, aghast, as Perry laughed and opened a condom packet with his teeth. He rolled the sheath on his big cock, and I lost sight of him behind the bouncing torso of the Spaniard. But then the Spaniard was being pitched forward again onto my chest, and I could see a grinning Perry beyond him. The redheaded guy and the black guy were at either side of me, each with one of my legs in a beefy hand, and they too were grinning at me as they wishboned my legs up and out.

Perry's head disappeared right before I felt a wet tongue penetrating my asshole, pushing it open and making it wet. This didn't go on too long before I saw Perry's head come up again and felt the palm of a hand under my tailbone, lifting my butt. All the time this was going on, my Spaniard continued to ride my cock like a rodeo star.

I bit down on the mouthpiece, trying to scream, as I felt the big head of Perry's cock at the entrance of my hole. And then he was pushing into me. Searing pain at first, but when he was a good five inches in, he went still and waited for me to adjust to him. The last three or four inches of penetration was more pleasurable than painful, and after he was in to the hilt, Perry started to stroke me, at first deep and shallow and then with longer strokes, almost exiting altogether before he slid back in to the hilt.

At some point I felt the truck began to move, and both the Spaniard and Perry matched their rhythm to the rhythm of the tires on the pavement.

I heard Perry exclaim with pleasure as the black guy got behind him and appeared to be fucking him from behind. But minutes later, I heard Perry exclaim more in anger and fear as I saw the redheaded guy trying to throw his leg over between Perry's back and the black guy's belly.

"No, no doubling," Perry was screaming.

"But you've got the hole for it," The redhead was saying. "I know you've done it before."

"But not with cocks like you guys have," Perry countered. "No! I said no!"

But in a flurry of activity announced with a slurping sound, I felt Perry being pulled out of me. The redhead and the black guy were struggling with him, and I saw him being handcuffed to the hold bar at the other end of the bed and gagged just as I was. The black dude was under him, penetrating Perry's asshole from behind, and the redhead's belly was docking with Perry's, and his cock was sliding in, with some difficulty on top of the black guy's dick in Perry's hole. Perry was writhing and throwing his body about between them, but they had him double skewered and handcuffed and gagged, and it was quite clear that they intended to play him like a pump organ.

I would have felt sorry for him, but he seemed to have invited all of this and to have gotten me involved in my own predicament as well.

Watching the two muscle-bound truckers double Perry was more than I could take. I ballooned out the head of my condom, shooting my load deep inside the Spaniard. He sat back on his haunches, letting my cock go soft inside him. His eyes were locked on mine, and I could see that his eyes were swimming in desire. His cock was engorged. And I became aware that he hadn't cum yet himself.

I watched him anxiously as he slowly reached over and picked up a condom packet, opened it, and rolled the sheath onto his cock.

He rose off me and turned me around on my belly.

"On your feet," he commanded, "No, chest still on the bed. And spread those legs. You'll want to." I did as he ordered, and I felt his cock sliding into my ass canal, which had already been widened and lubricated by Perry. He arched his chest down over my back, and I felt his chest hair tickling my shoulder blades. As he pumped me, he had his hands over my pecs for a while, playing with my erect nipples. At length, one hand went down to my cock and balls. He rolled the used condom off my dick and milked me. I came for the second time, and he for the first, almost simultaneously.

Not long after that, I felt the truck stop and then the door to the sleeper cabin open. A guy I'd never seen before, short, middle-aged, and a bit paunchy stood at the door.

"Thanks for rolling us around so we didn't get noticed," Jake, the Spaniard chimed up. "I'll take the wheel now, and you can take your pick of one of these studs."

As Jake was sizing the situation up and the Spaniard was dressing and leaving the sleeper, I looked over at Perry. He seemed to be unconscious, and the two monster truckers still had their cocks buried deep in his hole, although their languid looks and the deep kissing they were engaged in with each other told me that they had both flooded Perry's insides and essentially were done with him now. I hadn't seen that either had taken the time to use condoms.

I guess both Jake and I realized that this meant he was going to pick me. He grinned at me and took his time taking his clothes off. I hunched up the best I could in the back corner of the sleeper, folding my thigh over my privates.

He wasn't in all that bad shape for an old guy, even with the beer belly he sported. Most notably, though, he was a true bear, furry from head to toe and sporting a full beard and shoulder-length hair. He'd been dark-haired at one time, but much of that had gone to gray. I thought it had been the beer belly that caused me not to be able to see his cock, but after he was undressed and was fiddling with a condom, I saw that his cock appeared to be stubby in repose, but it had a gigantic girth of almost four inches. Fascinatingly enough, also, the bulbous helmet was pierced with a gold stud.

He lost patience with the condom packet and threw it aside. Then he reached out and grasped my ankles and opened my legs up. He came down on his knees between my legs, and let one of his hands roam around on my body while he pumped himself up with the other hand.

Miracle of miracles, his dick was reaching a prodigious length while retaining its ass-splitting width, and I started to moan in fear and objection.

This was all to no avail, however, as he bunched up some pillows under the small of my back, lifted one of my legs and wedged it against the edge of the side window in the sleeper, and entered my ass with his ram in a side split.

It immediately became obvious that he'd been doing this for a whole lot longer and with a whole lot more skill than either Perry or the Spaniard who had plowed me earlier, because he had me interested and working with him almost from the beginning. The stud in his dick helmet played my prostate so well and so long that I was spewing precum in greater quantities and pleasure than when I had ejaculated. Then he dragged his stud along my ass walls, sending ripples of pleasure through my body. He could feel that I was enjoying this fuck, and he released the gag from my mouth, and we kissed deeply. I lowered my mouth in search of his nipples, but I couldn't reach them, so he released my hands as well, and pulled his dick out of me, and allowed me to work my tongue and mouth down his hairy torso and down to his cock and balls, where I gave him head for several minutes. At length, he lifted my body and turned to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and then he brought me back down on his dick, with me facing him. I arched my back as his hands guided my pelvis up and down and his lips played on my torso.

The truck had stopped again, and the redhead and black dudes had extricated themselves from Perry, unbound him, and left him in a heap in the other corner of the bed, when Jake was finally finished with me and had bathed my insides with his man cum.

The Spaniard returned to the sleeper and he and Jake scouted up Perry's clothes and redressed him while I painfully dressed myself. When I emerged from the semi sleeper, I saw that we were back at the rest stop, parked right next to my Beamer.

"You can go now," the Spaniard said, as he and Jake moved Perry's unconscious body to the passenger seat of my car. "Just don't tell anyone about what happened or you'll be regretting it. And, for Chris' sake don't pull into the truck area of a rest stop in the evening unless you are looking to get fucked. Not that I wouldn't welcome having you visit me at a truck stop again real soon."

"But my car," I said. "You were going to help get a mechanic."

"There was nothing wrong with your car that didn't get fixed by another visit under the hood," the Spaniard said with a laugh. "As I said, don't go messing around in areas like this at night unless you are looking for the kind of ride you don't get in a car.'

Then he and Jake climbed up into the semi and drove away. As far as I could see, the other two guys who had done us weren't anywhere around. But I didn't take any chances; I revved up the Beamer, roared out of the rest stop, and took the first turn I could find off of the Interstate and on to a secondary road that was heading toward home.

I was one sore dude for several days, and, I'm glad to say, that once Perry woke up, he was pretty quiet and didn't try to hit on me again for several weeks.

I do regret that I didn't get a number or anything for that old guy, Jake. As long as I kept my eyes closed, he reached my itch better and longer than anyone who has tried since that night at the rest stop.



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