Birthday in Parker

In 1997 I was twenty-four and working for my family's trucking company. While our drivers were great at their jobs, they were less great when it came to handling their own affairs. One Wednesday, my driver George came to my desk with a problem. George was in his late fifties with a bit of a gut and long gray hair past his shoulders he tucked under one of our company trucker caps. When shaved, he was the spitting image of George Peppard, if George had been a bit of a hippie. 

"I got this notice I forgot about," George said in his raspy smoker's voice while handing me an official looking piece of paper.

I looked it over to discover he'd gotten an overweight ticket and had to appear in Parker on Friday. For any of my other drivers, this would have been a 'them' problem, but George was half of a husband-and-wife team I relied on for expedited services and they had a load to go out with Sunday night. Another problem was that, despite earning higher than average wages for a team at the time, they never had any money and rarely had reliable transportation.

"What the fuck George? You have to be in court on Friday or they'll suspend your license."

"I know, I know. Can I take the truck to Parker for my court appointment?"

He could tell from the look on my face I was quickly figuring out how much fuel that would burn, not to mention the fact he'd probably need an advance on his next check for a motel and food. Then I remembered the clause in our liability policy prohibiting drivers using equipment for personal needs. "I can't let you do that. Too much of a liability exposure." I checked his summons again and saw the case was set for 9:00am. "I guess I'll drive you over there tomorrow night so you can be ready to go to Michigan on Sunday."

"I'm really sorry man. I'll buy us dinner and pay for the gas."

"Yay, another date with a married man that ends up in a cheap motel."

He let out a growl of a laugh. "What time we leaving?"

"Let's say three o'clock, that way we miss rush hour and were headed north when the sun starts going down."

"Three it is boss."

The next day George and I drove out to Parker in my pickup. The conversation for the first half of the journey revolved mainly around trucking, trucks, accidents we'd seen, and his tall tales about making thousands of dollars a week ten years prior when, as he put it, "trucking was good." During the second half of the drive, he talked about his life in the rodeo and drew my attention to the belt buckle he'd won riding bulls. To listen to him speak, he'd slept with every cowgirl and broken every bone.

Eventually we pulled into Parker as the setting sun started to make long shadows across its lazy streets. I turned into the parking lot of an old motel from the fifties trying its darndest to convey the feeling of an alpine ski chalet dropped in the desert. After getting our key, I drove to the end of the building and parked in front of the door of room twenty-five, the same age I was turning today, as it was my birthday. A fact I hadn't told George.

The room was dark with mustard gold flocked walls, dark furniture with molded plastic fronts, navy blue spreads on two queen beds, the biggest avocado green lamps with gold shades I'd ever seen, and gold and green shag carpet that probably contained forty years of cigarette smoke, cum, and God only knows what else. Even opening the stiff brocade navy curtains did nothing to lighten the mood that I could best describe as funerial. George flung his Walmart bag of belongings onto the bed nearest the bathroom. 

"Hey look, they got a coin operated bed. Wonder if it still works?" He reached in his pocket, fished out a quarter, and stuck it in the slot. Instantly, the bed came to life, well, if it was epileptic. It shook and shimmied, slamming the headboard against the wall. If anyone was next door, they probably thought we were having an affair. "Heh, heh, this could be fun with a friend."

I put my bag on the luggage rack and prayed hard there wasn't any sort of infestation in the room. "You want to try that place across the street? Looks like it might have good steaks. Plus, I can have a drink and not worry about driving."

"Sounds good boss."

When we were seated in our brown Naugahyde banquette, George pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and put it on the table. "No arguments, I'm getting dinner tonight."

"Yeah, but I can expense it, you can't."

"I'll give you the receipt."

And now I had a little window into why George's finances were so bad.

The waitress came over and took our drink order, he ordered a whiskey sour and, having never had one, I ordered the same. As was the case for most of my twenties, this prompted an ID check. She looked at my date of birth and immediately grinned, "Happy birthday!!"

George cocked one of his bushy eyebrows at me as she walked away. "It's your birthday?"

"Yep, the big two-five." 

"Twenty-five? Fuck, I thought you were like nineteen or twenty. I ain't been as skinny and hairless as you since I was a teenager."

I fluffed up the few blonde hairs on my forearm, "I have hair."

George placed his giant furry tattooed forearm next to mine and flexed, making the crudely drawn woman wearing a bikini move her hips in a way that said to me, "Cute little girly arm you have there."

I took my arm off the table in embarrassment. It didn't matter how much protein I drank or weights I lifted; I remained a string bean.

George laughed at my shyness. "So, you're gay?"

I looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. Small rural towns are historically bad places for men with booming voices to out your sexuality. "Jesus George, keep it down."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm fine with it."

"You might be, but Farmer John over there might want to lynch me."

George looked around to see a mid-forties man eating alone a few booths over. "Please, I could take him. Besides, he's too into his soup to pay attention to anything else." He paused the conversation as our drinks were delivered. "A long time ago my wife thought for sure she was going to lose me to a rodeo clown named Dan. So, really, it's not a big deal for me."

So many things to unpack in that last sentence of his. Suddenly I was sitting next to a bisexual George Peppard look-a-like who used to fuck rodeo clowns. I only had one question for him. "Did you do it while he was in the clown get up?"

His loud laugh turned into a coughing fit that took him a moment to quell. "Nah, I'm not that kinky."

Our conversation for the rest of dinner jumped around from gay rodeos to country music and our mutual admiration of Latino men. The last subject was brought about by the Mexican man who bussed our table and elicited a gasp when he turned around and showed off the most perfect ass either of us had ever seen. 

"Damn, have to put that one in the spank bank," George whispered.

"Keep staring at his ass that hard and you won't be able to get up from the table."

The experience finished with the restaurant staff singing Happy Birthday to me illuminated by a single candle stuck in a piece of German chocolate cake. All in all, not the worst birthday I'd ever spent. Not even the worst date I'd had. 

Back at the motel a tension started building.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," George said pulling apart the pearl snaps on the front of his western shirt. His menagerie of tattoos continued onto his hairy chest and back. The color difference between his arms and the rest of his body was slightly startling, like he was wearing brown opera-length gloves. He slipped off his boots and socks, and then I heard the clang of his belt buckle colliding with the metal button on his jeans. The weight of the belt made his pants dropped to the floor with a thud and suddenly George's bare ass was facing me. For a man in his fifties, he had a great ass. Big, round, barely drooping at all, with a little dark fur in the crack. He hung up the pants and then turned and went into the bathroom and for a moment I caught a glimpse of his uncut cock swaying alongside a set of swinging balls. Instantly my cock moved in my pants. 

Ten minutes later a naked George with wet hair emerged from the bathroom and plopped onto the bed he'd claimed. I must have had some sort of expression on my face because he said, "Hope you don't mind, slept naked my whole life."

I got up and retrieved my leather toiletry bag. "No, no, that's, that's fine. Not like I've never seen a naked man before."

I got undressed by the little shelf with a rod trying to be a closet and went into the steamy bathroom. I opened up my little bag to take out my toothbrush and toothpaste and spied something I'd forgotten I had. A little black rubber douche bulb with a red tip. "Should I?" I asked myself. My asshole winked as if it was trying to reply in the affirmative, clearly it had seen the giant dick now residing on the other side of the wall. 

Twenty minutes later I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist and returned my toiletry bag to my case. I turned around and noticed George staring at the lump my dick was making under the towel. "Damn boss, you're a big boy too."

There was no denying the elephants in the room any longer. "Not compared to you."

"Heh, heh, yeah, that clown I used to see called me 'donkey'.

I walked over to the table between our beds and set up my travel alarm for seven and then sat on my bed for the first time. It crinkled like there was hard plastic over the mattress. "What the fuck is that?"

"Probably an old mattress protector that's given up the ghost."

As I got up to see if I could remove the crinkly sound from my bed, the towel lost its grip on my waist and fell to the floor.

"Fuck boy! You got a pretty ass!!"

George's comment made me spin around and my dick swung out, partially from centrifical force, partially from going hard from his comment.

"Damn boy, you're almost as long as me." He wrapped his calloused meat hook around the middle of my dick. "Not quite as thick though. But fuck that's nice."

I continued to get harder in his hand and he pulled me closer to his bed. His cock slowly grew from a limp fat curl resting on his balls into a steely rod rivalling the big flashlight under the seat of my pickup. It grew so tight, the weight of his big balls pulled on the skin connected at the base of his cock. "I bought you dinner, shouldn't you put out?" 

"That's sexist."

"How, were both men?"

"Okay, you're married."

"She don't care. She knew about Dan. Hell; she was teasing me about staying in a room with you. Saying how maybe I could get a raise out of it."

I stood and thought for a moment as my heart pulsed in my chest and my cock pulsed in his hand.

"Your dick seems to think it's a good idea." He wiped precum off the end of my cock with his thumb and sucked it off. "Mmm, tasty."

George grabbed my right inner thigh and tipped me off balance, forcing my hands to steady myself on his bed, as he lifted me up onto his stubbly face. Normally, I can give a decent blowjob while somebody eats my ass, but George's skills were next level. He worked his wide flat tongue over my hole and occasionally sucked on my pucker. The feeling was so intense, all I could do was stare at the mirror over the dresser and take in the complete look of bliss on my face.

His thick pipe bounced up and down, beckoning me to take a taste, but the motion on my ass made me greedy for more and I didn't want to lose contact with his tongue. The stubble scratching my balls and ass only added to the amazing indulgence. After some time, I felt bad for not paying attention to his now drooling cock and I leaned forward in an attempt to show my appreciation. George placed his big hands on my smooth chest and sat me upright over his face. "Don't worry about me, just enjoy it, it's your birthday. Just don't cum yet." 

And enjoy it I did. For the better part of thirty minutes his tongue writhed against my sphincter and his hands found my sensitive nipples. He'd pinch my nipples and use them to pull me down harder onto his face, his spit making my seat too slippery to keep my balance.

His fingers were next to explore my hole. First one, then two, and then three. He pulled me down to where my head could reach his cock. "Get that cock wet. Make it shine."

I worked as much of his meat as I could into my mouth and used my hand to draw his precum to the top. The mixture of cum and spit bubbled and frothed around the folds of his foreskin. Every moan he let go of vibrated my body on top of him.

Soon, his cock was lathered in our natural lubricant, and he lift my pelvis off of him. "What position do you like?"

I thought for a moment and then told him the truth. "I take it however it's given sir."

"Fuck yeah, good answer. You like it a little rough?"

"Never really thought about it, but looking back on the better experiences, yeah, I guess I do." 

He got out of bed and stood by the side. "Get on your back." I did as he said, and he reached around my smooth thighs with his dark hairy forearms and pulled me, so my ass hung over the edge. I looked over and was happy to be able to see all the action in the mirror. He noticed me looking. "You like watching yourself get fucked?"

"I want to see that thing disappear in me."

He pressed his cock into my hole. At first, my fear made me clench, but slowly I was forced to give into his intrusion. My breath became staccato as more and more of him slid into me. "Just breathe, I'll do the rest." Instead of going all in at once he used a rocking motion to push into me, then pull out a little, then in a little deeper than before, then out a little until I felt his warm body bumping into my ass. "Damn little boy, you can take a dick."

"Thank you, sir," slipped out of my mouth more natural than my name.

He stayed with the gentle rocking for a while as we both enjoyed the friction of our bodies together. Slowly he started to incorporate my nipples into our play. Twisting, pulling, sucking, biting, until they were bright red buoys on my pale sea of skin. The more he played with them, and I squeezed his cock with my ass, the more he moaned and moaned.

George stood up and put my feet flat on his chest. "You ready to get fucked?"

"Isn't that what we've been doing?"

"That was just getting you used to it."

Slowly his pace picked up and I could hear his knee click from the motion every now and again. With my feet pinned in the curve created from his pectoral going into his shoulder he started slamming into me harder and harder. His hands found my nipples and his rough fingers tortured my already tender skin. Faster and faster, he banged into me while his hands tortured squeezed and yanked on my tits.

The warmth of my own cum surprised me as my cock shot stream after stream.

George looked down at my body covered in my masculine glaze. "I still got it. Fuck yeah!" 

I couldn't help but smile at the childlike elation he had for my hands-free orgasm.

"You want it in you or on you?"

"Fill me up sir."

The pounding I had experience up to this point paled in comparison to the five minutes of jackhammering required to unleash his baby batter into my guts. His moans got louder and more animalistic with every thrust until his hands dug into my thighs and he pressed his cock as deep as he could into me. I've always loved the feeling of a man cumming in me, but this was otherworldly. The first few streams of his cum were release as he stood stationary, frozen in ecstasy, then he started rocking his cock back and forth as little spurts of jizz pounded my insides.

He stood for a while with my feet still planted on his chest, kissing the insides of my calves. Eventually the cock plugging and stretching my hole started to soften and my ass betrayed my deepest desires and evicted our limp invader. Instinctively, I spun around on the bed and cleaned the remnants of the evening off his cock, his cum and spit coating my face.

"Good boy." 

He laid back onto the bed and pulled me close to him, resting my head on his furry chest. I wrapped my leg around him, my thigh resting over his warm crotch.

"What time did you set the alarm for," he asked.

"Seven."

"Set it for six."

I reached over and made the adjustment. "Take you that long to get ready in the morning?" 

He playfully slapped my ass and turned off the lamp. Into the darkness he said, "No, I usually wake up hard and I got some quarters for the bed."

I know he could feel my face smile against his chest.