Travis' Trunk

Phlegmatic! That would be the most appropriate word I could use the describe Travis. There were times that he would be engaging and other times he would scarcely acknowledge my existence. He spent a great deal of time in the shop across the road and I would see him coming and going on a daily basis. Travis was a stutterer and this was particularly bad when he got excited. Travis must have been in his mid-forties and was a sexy man. Travis stood around six-foot-two tall and had a slight paunch. He had broad masculine hands, with the tip of his right middle finger missing. He didn’t appear to be very hairy and sported a goatee without a moustache. His hair was brown and always cut very short. He was always neatly attired and generally wore the traditional farmer’s garb.

Travis’ second wife, who was of a similar age to him, was easily the sexiest woman in the town. This always astounded me, because his infidelity was part of local folklore and there were quite a few locals who were not enamoured with Travis’ antics. There was a story of him once visiting a house of ill repute nearby, after which he had crashed his pickup far too close to this establishment.

This almost led to a divorce. After much begging and pleading, however, he had managed to persuade his wife to relent. Travis was naughty and loved over-imbibing. His nickname, ‘Travis Trunk,’ came from a favourite party trick that he was renowned for. Even I got to see this trick one Sunday evening.

The pub down the road always grew fairly quiet on Sunday afternoons after the lunch-time traffic had dispersed from the village. The owner of the pub was a delightful woman named Naomi. I would often saunter over at around five-thirty and have a drink or two with her, prior to her closing up at around seven.

Late one Sunday afternoon, as I arrived at Naomi’s pub her eldest son Bennie, and Travis were at the bar. Travis was fairly drunk and following what he was saying, between his slurring and stuttering, was quite an ordeal. He then asked me if I liked elephants. Naturally, I responded positively. After pulling the pockets of the trousers he was wearing outward, creating two flaps on either side of his hips, Travis unzipped the front of his pants before pulling his cock out to complete the picture. He smiled broadly as we all applauded the ‘elephant.’ Tempted as I was to get a really good look, I restrained myself from doing so too blatantly. His cock, however, looked fantastic. I left the pub shortly afterward.

The following Sunday, only Naomi and Travis were at the bar when I arrived. He was a lot more sober and very engaging that evening. As I finished my second drink, aware that Naomi liked to close up by seven o’clock; I made my way home fifteen minutes before closing time.

A short while later my doorbell rang and after opening the front door, Travis stood there and asked if he could view the gallery, having never visited it before.

Several weeks before, he had made his feelings on homosexuality very clear to me and they were not very positive! His visit, therefore, was somewhat of a surprise to me.

After looking around the gallery for a few minutes he asked to use my toilet. In the peculiar setup of the home I rented as a gallery, the toilet adjoined the lounge. Without closing the toilet door behind him I could hear him pissing.

Next, I was summoned to the toilet by him to answer a question about one of the art pieces that hung above the toilet bowl.

Hesitantly, I approached to find him shaking his cock, presumably to dispose of his last few drops of piss. Facing his left side, I also now got a really clear view of the legendary ‘trunk’. I was so perplexed that I wasn’t able to concentrate on his question properly. Nonchalantly, he now invited me over to have a closer look at the art piece as he continued fiddling with his knob.

As I moved next to him he placed his left hand on my shoulder. Finally, as I focused on the art piece I gave a brief explanation of the artist’s technique and medium. Travis now commenced leisurely opening and closing his foreskin as I spoke. I was dying to touch his cock but with his former homophobic diatribe in my mind, I decided not to. He then turned his body to face me and with a strange look on his face, I felt his hand pushing my shoulder downward. Apprehensively, I knelt down before him as directed.

When I gingerly touched his magnificent cock I could feel it thickening as it filled with blood. It was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful knobs I had ever seen. The flawless pale skin felt like satin and it had an ample foreskin that hung generously off the dick-head.

The texture of his foreskin was thin and hugged the head of his glans snugly. Both his hands were now on my shoulders and as I started to slide the foreskin back, his pink cock-head emerged. I now placed the tip of his dick in my mouth and started lolling my tongue over the head of his knob.

“F-fuck, y-yeah’s,” were followed by, “J-Jesus,” as he grasped my head and began face-fucking me enthusiastically. His grunts and groans were exciting me beyond belief. As I started playing with his balls he widened his stance. Travis then slowed his pace and pulled his knob out of my mouth.

Looking down at me he barked, “D-do you l-like the t-trunk you f-fuckin’ w-whore?”

“Yes,” I replied.

Smiling, he now started to slap my face with his ‘trunk’ while clasping my hair in his left hand. Travis really began enjoying this act of domination as the slapping became more animated. Stuttered expletives and stammering insults also then began to flow from his lips.

With his grasp on my hair intensifying, my head got manipulated into every position imaginable, while his knob meted out ‘corporal punishment’ all over my face and head. As my ears, nose, mouth, eyes, and cheeks received a ‘whipping,’ I began to whimper, knowing that my submission was pleasing him beyond belief. For my part, I loved every second of it.

After once more inserting his dick back into my mouth, he said, “F-fuck yeah, t-take my f-fucking trunk.”

Next, he gripped hold of my ears and began to skull-fuck me manically.

“Y-yeah, fuck y-yeah, take my f-fuckin’ trunk you p-pussy boy,” he continued stammering.

With my head now firmly encapsulated in his hands, I felt him becoming overexcited. Travis then once again he pulled his cock out of my mouth, stating, “I d-don’t w-want to c-come to q-quickly.”

I then began licking his balls and slowly slid my hand up to his rosebud. When I started rubbing my middle finger against his pucker I could feel his apprehension. Unperturbed, I continued and shortly afterward, I felt him begin to relax.

Next, I suggested we move through to the lounge where he removed his trousers and underpants completely, before pulling off his top. I also removed my clothing before I again knelt before him and asked him to turn around and lean over the back of the sofa. He first looked at me quizzically, but slowly turned and bent over, nonetheless.

As I started licking his pucker the sounds emanating from him became guttural. Then I saw his hands appear before pulling his cheeks apart as far as possible, clearly signalling his total satisfaction. When I inserted my tongue into his manhole he began to grunt. As I commenced alternating between rimming him and licking his balls, I could literally feel his body tremble with horniness. I had also begun feverishly tugging on my knob and soon I shot my load onto the floor. Next, he lifted his torso and quickly turned to face me. Travis then clamped my head and commenced face-fucking the living shit out of my head.

A minute later he announced, “I’m c-c-cumming.”

I held onto his hips tightly encouraging him to unload down my throat. His generous dose of spunk tasted heavenly and afterward, I lapped up every drop as I cleaned his cock and balls thoroughly.

When Travis left later, I wondered if a repeat performance would be on the cards.

I did not see him the following Sunday but did get a repeat performance a week after that. On that occasion, I also introduced him to the pleasures of piss-play. After leading him into the shower once we had undressed, my mouth once more received its ‘punishment’ from the trunk. A short while later, when I asked him to piss on me his disbelievingly excited eyes were a sight to behold.

Although he seemed somewhat unsure initially, once his piss started flowing, Travis was as exuberant as a kid on Christmas morning. What excited me most about him was the look of power that radiated from his eyes as my head got a drenched. It was totally clear that Travis thrived on domination.

Thereafter, he would visit at least three out of every four Sunday evenings when his wife attended church. I would often have a slightly sore neck the day after, but it was well worth it. We never escalated to anal sex or kissing. I suppose that bridge was just too far for him.