I had been for a night out at The Nightingale Club in Birmingham with a mate of mine, Norm. I was staying over at his house for the weekend and it was a weekly ritual for him to go clubbing. It was also a bit of a ritual for him to collect and drive some of his younger mates; the ones who didn't have cars and lived in the country. So on the way this time we stopped to pick up Alan.
I'd never met Alan before but I could tell right away that we had nothing in common. He was twenty-two, I was thirty-five. He had died blonde hair and six earrings; I was dark and wore only one sleeper. He wore denim dungarees with rips and a tight fitting tee shirt; I wore army-trousers and a loose fitting white shirt. He was slim and smooth; me stocky and hairy.
You get the picture.
On the way to the club I sat in the front with Norm driving and Alan sat in the bat chattering about his friends, who'd shagged who that week and filling us in on all the local twink gossip. I got a bit fed up with his constant, effeminate chatter and eventually switched off, watching the dull motorway pass by instead.
The club was o.k. If you like loud, thumping music, skinny twinks showing off and warm beer. Norm introduced me to some more of his young friends and the time passed. At the end of the night there was a round of 'who's getting a lift with who?' which was a bit confusing, but in the end arrangements were made and I waited outside for Norm and whoever he was giving a lift to.
I was a bit drunk but not over the top, but I could tell that Alan was very pissed. He came out of the club and stood next to me, swaying as we waited for our driver.
'I'm cold,' he complained, leaning against me and sounding pathetic.
He pulled my arm around him and I rubbed his shoulders to warm him up. When we got into the car I sat in the back with him and two others that Norm was dropping off. There were another two in the front. The car was overloaded as we drove through the cold, dark streets of Birmingham but luckily we were not stopped. Eventually the other boys were dropped off at their various destinations and we headed back towards the motorway; me and Alan, now the only two passengers, were in the back.
As we settled into the continuous rhythm of motorway driving speed and the street-lights gave way to countryside darkness, Alan made himself comfortable; lying down with his head in my lap. I let my right arm drape over him and rest on his hip as it was the most comfortable place to put it. Norm was chatting away to me about who he'd seen in the club, what the conversation had been and so on and I talked back to him.
Alan's hand found the front of my army trousers and rested there.
Norm went on about someone he'd spied on the dance floor. Alan told him all the information he knew about the lad while starting to rub my cock through my trousers. I shifted in my seat, opening my legs a little and talked to Norm's reflection in the driving mirror.
We talked about what we had coming up the following week, work and stuff, while Alan popped the buttons on my fly and slipped his smooth, cool hand into my trousers. Norm looked up into the mirror from time to time, he could only see me and wanted to know where Alan was. I told him he was lying down and Alan just said he was sleepy; as he wrapped his fingers around my stiffening cock and pulled it through my fly.
Norm couldn't see what was going on; he just carried on driving, looking into the blackness ahead and talking. I answered him calmly while Alan put his lips to the tip of my now fully erect cock and licked it. I pulled my jacket over his head so that he was fully covered, just in case Norm turned around. Then I started to slide my hand into the side of his dungarees. I ran my hand over his slim, bony hip and into the waste band of his briefs. He shifted slightly, pushing his head down over my cock and pushing his cock into my hand.
It wasn't huge but it was hard. Feeling around the base I could tell that he shaved his pubes, there was stubble on the otherwise smooth skin. Fingering below this I could tell that his balls were also shaved and they were big. His mouth was now right over my cock and he worked on it with his tongue while he held it inside him.
Norm was asking about directions off the motorway, to make sure Alan got home o.k. Alan freed himself from my shaft, gave directions quickly and then went straight back to work. I had found a good position on his cock and was wanking him from my wrist, back and forth slowly, rubbing his shaft with my fist and touching his cut cock-head with each upstroke. After a couple of strokes I'd stop, squeeze his cock and finger his balls and shaved pubes. He seemed to like this as each time I did it he sucked on me harder. He slipped his fingers under my shaft and returned the action, lifting my heavy ball sack and letting it play through his fingers as his tongue flicked up and down my shaft.
The back of his throat was soft and warm as my cock head slid down further; I felt his small nose nestle into my fury bush and his face pressed down as far as it could against the material of my trousers. He sucked his cheeks in, lifted his face slightly, tickled my balls with his fingers and then slid back down, eagerly swallowing all of my shaft.
Luckily Norm had fallen silent, looking for the turn off. I was about to come. I gripped Alan's head with my left hand and tried to pull it off, to let him know I was going to shoot and if he didn't want to swallow it he should back off. He didn't. He just pushed down harder and his shaft licking got more frantic. His fingers squeezed my balls and he sucked me more frantically.
As I filled his mouth silently with my cum I felt my hand turn hot and wet as I brought him to a climax, filling the inside of his briefs with his own twink juice. I kept pulling at his cock, running my thumb over his head and wiping his cream around it beneath the rim. He continued to lick at my cock, swallowing all of my cum and trying to squeeze out more. He drank his fill and then kept my meat in his mouth. I carefully withdrew my right hand, tacky with his cum and moved it to his face. I felt for his lips, still wrapped around my solid shaft, and slipped a finger into his mouth. I squeezed it in between his teeth and my cock and felt his hot tongue licking at it. I exchanged it for another and he cleaned that one too.
Finally, when my cock had softened slightly, he let it go. It flopped down onto the front of my trousers, wet and spent. He carefully pushed it back into my fly, gave it one last feel with his slender fingers and then did up my buttons, one by one.
When we reached his house we were invited in for a night cap. I noticed he went straight to his bedroom to clean up and change his underwear. I didn't need to; he'd cleaned me out and he'd cleaned me up.