A Delightful Predicament

Despite having asked around, Jamir Robeson realized too late that he had caught the wrong Greyhound from the small isolated town. The bus was going in the completely wrong direction and there was no way of stopping it until it reached its destination. Jamie cussed under his breath, wishing he’d never attended that stupid party.

The bus finally arrived at another small town, specifically a bus station near a diner with a motel across the road. With his funds exhausted, Jamir walked over to the motel. Perhaps he could persuade them to allow him to use their phone. The motel was small and dingy, straight out of some teen slasher movie. Jamir cringed but headed to the desk. The clerk was a chubby blonde and bearded white man, perhaps in his late forties. He peered over his glasses, up from the magazine he’d been reading.

“Morning, how ya doing?” Jamir began. “Could I use your phone? I’m lost and have no money left on me.”

“You could, except my phone’s been busted the whole week. Repairman was supposed to have come yesterday but, welp,” the fat man replied, shrugging.

“Shit! Have a cellphone?”

“Nope.”

“Dammit!”

“Look, son. What’s the matter exactly?”

Jamir explained what had happened to him the night prior, leaving out the details of the enjoyable sex with two burly hung truckers. When he mentioned the name of his college, where he was trying to return to, the fat man whistled.

“Son, that’s a good pull from here. You really are fucked!”

“Man, what am I gonna do? I have no money, no phone, a game coming up in two days. . .Oh crap! And the damn quiz tomorrow!” Jamir barked, flinging his hands in the air.

“Hey, now! Calm down. What did you say the name of those truckers were again?”

“Mmm! Chet and Jenson, I think.”

“Ah! I see now. Good ole Chet and Jenson. I know them boys, and I know what they get into,” the clerk grinned, and Jamir watched his hand slide down to his crotch and begin a kneading motion. The college tight end swallowed as his asshole involuntarily pulsed and his cock began to swell.

“I know what they’d make a stud like you pay for a ride, and I think I know how to solve your money problem.” The man stood. He was chubby but his crotch bulged forward and Jamir licked his lips as he watched the outline of the cock throb powerfully.

“Fuck,” he whispered, ”So. . .if I suck you off. . .?”

“You get paid,” the fat man smiled, pulling his chair around and taking his seat. “Come here. Ain’t nobody coming in here today but you anyway.”

Jamir stepped forward then sank to his knees between the man’s thick thighs. He kneaded the big bulge then freed it. The cock was large and oozing precum as Jamir gripped it, feeling its hefty girth. He licked his lips again then slid his mouth down on the pink knob.

“Fuck! That’s it!” the fat man groaned, gently gripping a handful of Jamir dreadlocks as the college footballer began to suck in earnest.

He’d learned a thing or two more about sucking cock from Chet and Jenson, and put his new skills to work as he got the man’s thick cock wet. He sank further down the throbbing shaft and quickly had that dong in his throat.

“Oh shit! Fuck! Get my dick sloppy wet, you hear?”

“Mmm hm!” Jamir replied, hungrily slobbering on the thick white erection.

He wasn’t just doing it for the money. He was sucking for his own pleasure as well. Since the night prior, he’d developed a great urge to please a man’s cock, and the fat clerk’s throbbing dong was just the thing he needed. His spit-filled mouth sloshed and squished as frothy saliva soaked the man’s hairy balls and drenched his pubes. The fat clerk was shuddering in his chair as Jamir kept up the incredible deep-throating cock-painting blowjob, hungry for his creamy reward. He got it moments’ later as the clerk grabbed the hand-rests and shoved his cock upward.

“ARRRGGGHHHHHHHHH!”

Jamir stayed on the cock, nursing every creamy delicious drop from the pulsing rod. He gripped the base with one hand and the hairy balls with the other as he milked the spooge from the source. He sucked the man clean then leaned back on his haunches, his mouth dripping with spit.

“So, now I get the money for the Greyhounds back to school?” he asked.

“Fuck no!” the fat man chuckled, and Jamir’s heart dropped. “I’ll give you a portion, but a mouth as good as yours can’t go to waste. There are plenty of horny truckers and others staying here, and they’d love a good throat to fuck. And if Chet and Jenson picked you up, I know they fucked you, so that hot jock ass of yours must be worth a good pounding too.”

“So, what now?” Jamir asked, still unsure of what exactly was required of him.

“I’ll call the rooms and see who wants you. Then you go, make some cash, and once you have enough, you get to go back to your pretty little football campus.”

“I thought you said the phones weren’t working?”

“They work for internal calls to the rooms just fine. Damn, you kids today don’t even know how landlines work, do ya?”

* * * * *

Jamir’s cock-sucking labors started off at room 103. He knocked but the door was already open. He pushed it and entered the darkened room. The man was seated at the edge of the bed. He was a burly trucker-type. He looked Mexican, with a scruffy beard, dark-brown skin and a beer-gut. He was naked but for his socks and underwear, the huge bulge pulsing at his groin. Jamir didn’t waste any time, sinking to his knees and freeing the thick erection.

He moaned on seeing it, and his asshole twitched with the hope that the big brown dong would soon be plowing his insides. The impressive cock stood firm like a tower, curving upward above the large hairy ballsac. He peeled back the foreskin to reveal a purple head with the slightly funky hint of piss and unwashed musk. That smell aroused him, however, and Jamir sank his lips over it, moaning as he did so.

The man groaned too, leaning back and spreading his legs wider as Jamir began his mission to get him off. The mildly funky flavor of the cock filled his mouth, and Jamir sucked faster. The taste was exquisite. His own thick nine inches raged in his pants but he focused on pleasuring the beer-gut stud before him, gently squeezing the hairy sac and caressing the wolfishly furry muscular legs.

The man grabbed Jamir’s head by the dreads and forced him all the way down. Jamir choked on the throbbing cock but held firm despite the sudden eruption of bitter salty cum down his throat. The man pumped his hips upward, ensuring that every drop of his load was swallowed. Finally, he released Jamir’s locks and the college ball-player leaned back on his haunches, panting. The man grabbed a ten-dollar bill from his nearby jeans and handed it over.

Jamir looked at it, thinking how expensive a greyhound ticket was, and realizing just how much work he’d have to put in to get back to campus.