After 10 minutes on the highway, we pull into a rest stop in a heavily wooded area. We are many miles west of Boston. I see a motorcycle parked near the entrance to the path.
"We are going for a little walk." my Grindr date says.
I have little choice but to obey. We head down a path that leads into trees and brush. Luckily, there is a full moon so I can see what’s ahead.
Beer in hand, my sex date grips my neck and pushes me toward a small clearing amid the trees. I notice a man standing in the clearing, but I can only make out that he’s wearing a Red Sox cap.
I wonder what is going to happen next. I don't have to wait long. My buddy pushes me against a tree and tells me to take off my clothes. I'm not comfortable doing that. I just want to give him a blowjob with me fully clothed.
"Could we just go back to the car? I'm not a big outdoor guy,” I say. He just harrumphs.
"Take them off now or I'll cut them off.” He pulls out a large jackknife. I pull off my sneakers, then my T-shirt and unbuckle the belt on my Levi’s. “Take your pants off, slowpoke,” he snaps. “Take your briefs off, too, and your socks. I want you completely naked."
It is then that I see the man in the Red Sox cap 20 feet away observing us. I’m not happy about that either. “Come on, I hate being watched,” I whine. “I’ll do whatever you want if we go back to the car. I’ve never had sex outdoors.”
"You'll do whatever I want right here. Kneel down next to that tree."
I oblige and as he waves the onlooker toward us, I feel a knot in my stomach. As the stranger gets closer, I get a better look. With his cap off I can see that he has reddish-brown hippie-length hair. I swoon at the thought of doing it with a ginger. He is 6-2, I'd say, with a nice build -- not muscley, more sinewy. He has American-boy even features -- a straight nose, intense blue eyes, strong chin. I'm grateful that the full moon allows me to see his face.
He removes his jacket and well-worn white T-shirt, uncovering a furry chest and a rope of red hair heading down to his jeans. He has a tattoo on each pec — a heart pierced by a sword on one and an infinity symbol on the other.
"This is the guy I was telling you about, Red. He's an unbelievable pig."
“Thanks, Tiger. Let’s see how piggy he is.
So that’s my Grindr date’s nickname: Tiger. He hadn’t said.
So there it is! I’ve been set up as prey for Tiger’s ginger buddy. He hands Red a beer and nods. “Go ahead -- take him."
Red stands in front of me on my knees. “My
dick needs a mouth,” he tells me. “Tiger says you have a great one.”
The prospect of sucking this stud’s cock makes me nearly faint with lust. His reddish-brown scruff leads me to thinking that his pubic hair is the same color. I hope he doesn’t ruin everything by manscaping. I move to unbutton his pants, but he slaps me hard in the face.
"Not with your hands, Asshole." He pulls a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, leans over me, pulls my arms behind my back and snaps them on.
Never having been handcuffed, I’m surprised that my anxiety level hasn’t spiked. Never sucked a ginger either. So excitement about that has overcome fear.
He pushes his bulging crotch closer as I realize that it won’t be easy to use my teeth to unbutton him, especially since his jeans are tight. Yet, I hunger to see what’s behind his prominent bulge. He helps me get started by undoing the top metal button.
I nibble at the second one, working my teeth and lips as he coaches me to get it done. "That's it, pull harder.” I’m hoping that my spittle will soften the denim making it easier to thread it through the hole. After a few minutes, I surprise myself by disengaging the button.
“One down, three more if you want to suck my fat dick.”
By now, I am obsessed with seeing his cock -- is it cut or uncut like Tiger’s. Is it long or short? He says it’s fat. I can see the top of his jockstrap. I work feverishly at the next metal button and finally get it undone.
"I think he's hungry," Red tells Tiger, who nods. “You’re going to find out just how hungry he is.”
I need to get one more button undone -- the difficult bottom one.
"Come on, sissy," he taunts me. "You can do better than that." Finally, I feel the metal button thread the hole.
"Now, use your mouth to tug my Levi’s down.” I have a good grip with my teeth on the sides of his Levi’s and inch by inch, shimmy his jeans down past his hips.
There it is -- a classic Bike No. 10 jockstrap bulging out at me. It looks unwashed and yellowish.
“Get my jock wet. I’ve been wearing it every day at work,” he orders. He isn't kidding. It smells rank and has rough patches on the front that is likely dried cum.
"My buddy here says that you’re a dirty little boy and like kinky play. You better lather it good. It’s not coming off till it's soaking wet," he says.
Using every bit of spit I can muster, I drench his jock and taste his dried essentials that coat it — piss, sweat and cum.
As I use my mouth to grip and pull his jock down, I got another slap. "Not so fast, hungry man." He turns around and shows me the hairiest and meatiest ass I’ve ever seen, straining the straps of his jock to the limit. Reddish-brown hair sprays out from his crack, lavishes his butt cheeks, then moves up to the small of his back.
"You have cleaning to do back there before you get my dick. You understand?” He shoves his butt onto my face. I take a deep breath before I go to work. He’s sweaty back there, but not dirty, just ridiculously musky. I gather he has been sitting on his motorcycle all day in the sun.
“I want to feel your tongue all the way up my ass,” he warns, “or you can forget about sucking me off.”
That propels me into action. I dart my tongue as far as possible up his hairy hole.
I have forgotten all about Tiger, who has been watching with a sly look on his face. He moves closer. Suddenly, I hear him unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. I feel warm liquid land on my crotch. He is relieving himself on me. Fixated on Red’s hole, I don’t even mind.
"You guys look so hot together, I’m joining in,” he says. He moves closer and pisses on Red’s butt crack. “You love my piss, now you can lick it off Red's ass.”
As much as I love rimming Red, I really want to
see his dick and red pubic hair and fur-covered balls. His pouch looks amazing. He turns around, and pulls the jock down to his knees.
"Is this what you've been slobbering over?” he teases. Staring at me is the fattest dick one can imagine -- not long, perhaps 5½ inches, but a beer can of a dick. Red is circumcised, with a large mushroom cap that sits in a generous field of ginger hair. I am thrilled that he doesn’t trim it.
Red pushes the head up to my nostrils and orders me to sniff it. The scents of piss and precum greet me. He rubs it on my lips and tells me to stick out my tongue. He rests his cock on it. “Keep your mouth wide open or else,” he warns. I love him telling me what to do.
He orders me to kiss it and then shoves it past my lips into my grateful mouth. I am in heaven. He makes my cheeks bulge
as I take it all.
I see my job as simple: Stimulate this stud until he creams in my mouth.
Up to now he has been content to let me do all the work. Suddenly, he roughly pulls my head onto his dick and starts fucking my mouth with ferocity. He drills the back of my throat and I’m struggling not to gag.
This goes on for several minutes until my jaw aches. My wrists are sore from the cuffs. I try not to think about anything but getting him off and tasting his spunk.
In minutes I feel his rhythm quicken and voice get louder as he fills my mouth with a load that will be hard to forget.
I swallow every drop as his dick retreats into softness. He leaves his cock in my mouth. He grabs me by the ears and says, "That was a super load you took. I think you need something to wash it down."
I know what is coming. Tiger must have told him what we did in his car.
What starts as a trickle flows with more intensity.
filling my mouth faster than I can swallow it -- some of it is dribbling onto my chest. His piss is strong -- tangier than Tiger’s. I let his juice sit in my mouth before I swallow it.
When he is finished filling my belly, he shakes the last few drops onto my tongue. “Tiger is right. You are a dirty, kinky boy.”
He unlocks the handcuffs and pulls me to my
feet.
Red hugs Tiger and thanks him. “Just what I needed, big guy, but I gotta get home to Karen, although she never sucks me off. Doesn’t matter. She couldn't blow my horn right if Wynton Marsalis gave her lessons."
Exhausted but satisfied, I put my clothes back on for
the long walk back to the car.
THE END
