I Sucked a Guy Off

by charles-smythe

26 Oct 2015 3729 readers Score 8.7 (76 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Stocked up on cokes and junk food, I pulled back onto the highway and left the gas pumps at the convenience store behind. Four hours to go, give or take a few minutes. I'd be glad to leave Oklahoma behind, what a godawful state to drive through. And Tulsa, why would anyone live there?

I took a swig of my cold coke and pressed the Scan button on the radio for the hundredth time. I was sick to death of shit-kicking country music and my CDs had achieved overplay status about a week ago. And I hadn't had time to buy anything new.

"Gonna be a long fucking drive," I muttered as the radio found one staticky station after another. I spotted a hitchhiker ahead and slowed a bit, hoping for a hot chick. I laughed at that, knowing hot chicks didn't hitchhike these days, not if they wanted to keep breathing.

As expected, it was a man, although he was nearly good-looking enough to be a chick. He held a cardboard sign that read St. Louis. Picking up hitch hikers wasn't safe these days. Not that I have much to worry about, being 6 foot 4 and 200 pounds. I'm light complexed enough that few are aware of my Irish/Costa Rican heritage.

On a whim, I pulled over.

He jogged up to the car and opened the passenger door. He stuck his head in and we mutually evaluated each other's danger factor. He appeared whiter with a little ting of yellow. Not surprising since everyone had a touch of American, Spanish, Chinese, Arab, Japanese and whatever blood running in though their veins. But whatever, he didn't seem to be the serial killer type. As a salesman, I was usually dead-on when assessing peoples' character.

"St. Louis?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, and the radio stations out here are shit. I could use some company."

He seemed to decide I was harmless, so he tossed his bag and jacket on the floorboard and climbed in. He didn't look like a vagabond. He was well-dressed, in clean khakis and a red t-shirt. His features were handsome almost to the point of pretty, but he looked skinny but seemed muscular enough to defend himself, if necessary.

"I'm Dillian," I said as I brought the car back up to speed.

"Trevor," he said.

I made small talk, explaining my job as an industrial chemical salesman, and gesturing at the sample cases in the back of my Grand Cherokee.

"Giving away samples isn't much fun," I complained. "If I worked for Budweiser or Frito Lay, people would be leaping at samples. Not too many people want chemical solvents or lubricant."

Do you live in St. Louis?" Trevor asked.

"Yeah, I live with my fiancé, Nikki. She's pretty understanding of my constant traveling. Why are you going to St. Louis?"

Trevor flushed slightly. "I'm going to visit with my mother for a while. I had a fight with my girlfriend," he broke off, seeming embarrassed.

"Fighting with the girlfriend, eh," I laughed jokingly. "At least it wasn't your wife." I paused and asked, "Was it serious?"

"I'm serious, but she's not," Trevor said. "I want a more committed relationship, and she's not ready. God, I sound like a total girl when I say that, don't I? That's what she says whenever I bring it up. Anyway, I decided to go home for a while and let her see what life without me is like.

We talked about random things after that...childhood pets and travel and sibling stories. That's when he mentioned his gay brother. I didn't drive off the road, but I was surprised that he told me.

"Is that a problem?" Trevor asked nervously, probably because I hadn't said anything.

"No. No, why should I care who you sleep with? It's none of my business."

"People do care, though, and not in a good way."

"Yeah, especially out here in Bum Fuck, rural America. Your even bring it up could have been awkward. I could have been one of those hate freaks."

Trevor smiled, "I figured any man that has a crystal pendant hanging from his rear-view mirror couldn't be too big of a bigoted asshole."

I glanced at the teardrop-shaped crystal that reflected the waning light from the sunset and grinned.

"Nikki, my fiancé. She's sort of into the New Age thing. She told me this has some sort of protective qualities or something like that. Personally, I think it's a load of crap, but if it makes her happy..."

I trailed off, thinking of Nikki and the nice hot sex I'd be having soon. Not tonight, because it would be late when I got home, but probably tomorrow.

Trevor laughed, "The things we do to make other people happy."

Out of nowhere I asked, "Has your brother ever said what's it like being gay?" and then felt like an idiot, because it seemed like a ridiculous question.

"Pretty much the same as being straight, I'd guess," Trevor said dryly.

"I mean the sex," I said, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the road. I didn't want Trevor to get the idea that I was gay or anything. "I'm just curious."

"Same as sex with woman, mostly. Skin, hands, mouths, holes. If it's wet and slick, it's all good, right?"

I nodded, never having considered it like that.

"Except..." Trevor added and I shifted my eyes over to see him with a half-smile and his gaze far away.

"Well, according to him the nice thing about getting a blowjob from a man...he knows what feels good. Men are better at that, he claims. Women just don't seem to quite... get it."

My cheeks reddened and I grew unexpectedly warm at the words, especially the way Trevor said them, with a seductive lilt that made me instantly think of a hot mouth sucking me off. God, I might have to wake up Nikki the minute I got home, late or not.

My mouth was a little dry when I spoke.

"That makes sense. My girlfriend is a lick-it-around-the-edges girl."

Trevor laughed huskily, "Poor you."

I figured I'd better change the subject before I made an even bigger idiot out of myself.

"Your mom knows he's gay?"

"Yeah, and she thinks it's cute. She's kind of weird that way."

"She doesn't want grandkids?"

Trevor shuddered. "I have sisters and we're all breeders."

"No parental dramatics, then?" I asked, thinking it was usually the parents that freaked out and wondered what they did wrong.

"My dad left when we were small, so he never really had to deal with that scene."

I offered Trevor a soda from the cooler in the backseat, one of the first things a traveling salesman discovers that he needs on the road. He reached back and pulled one out before returning to his seat and reattaching his seatbelt.

Trevor tipped his head back when he drank and I noticed the smooth line of his neck. His dark hair looked very fine and glinted occasionally in the light of the approaching headlights on the other side of the freeway divider. If you were going to go for a man, I supposed you could do worse than Trevor. I thought maybe his girlfriend was an idiot.

The time passed quickly and soon I was approaching the exit where Trevor wanted to be let out. I didn't feel quite right about booting him out in the middle of the night.

Can I drop you off somewhere safer?" I asked. "I don't want your mother hunting me down when you don't show up."

"No, this will be fine. Just pull into that Wal-Mart over there. She doesn't live far. I'll call and she'll come down and pick me up."

I did as he directed. The parking lot was well lit and a couple of RVs were parked in a corner. It seemed relatively safe.

Trevor opened his wallet and pulled out a five-dollar bill.

"This is all the cash I have on me," he said. "Will you take it? For gas or whatever?"

I waved it away. "No, I had to make this drive anyway. It was nice to have some company to keep me awake besides the company pays for my gas."

"Well, you saved my life. I could have been walking all night, or been picked up by some whacko," he said as he put the money away and tucked his wallet back into a pocket.

"You really shouldn't hitchhike. It can be really dangerous," I said.

"Thanks, Dad," Trevor replied and grinned.

"Yeah, whatever."

As Trevor reached for the door handle I thought about an experience once with a neighbor who asked me to help him move his TV. He was a 40 something 6-foot, slim, light skinned black guy. Once inside his apartment he asked me if I wanted to watch a porn tape with him. I kinda froze, as my cock started to get hard. Then he asked if I had a big cock? I was fully hard and pulled my pants down to show him. He immediately grabbed my cock and stroked it a couple times. I was scared so I pulled my pants up, but couldn't stop myself from shooting a load of cum in my pants because I was so turned on. at the time just I fought the urge to have some cock play. I was scared of what people would think. So scared that I left,

I saw him sitting in the lobby later trying to find another hook up. I was in my 20s at the time and had girls to satisfy my sexual needs. I look back now and still get hard when I think about that day.

Ever since I've wondered if I made a mistake. Maybe this was my chance to find out.

"Maybe there is I way you can repay me," I said.

Something in the tone of my voice stopped him. He waited.

I swallowed. "You could let me give you a blowjob," I said my eyes flicked over and catching his. I couldn't look away and suddenly wondered what color they were. Probably brown, but it was hard to tell in the dark.

"Just so I'll know what it's like," I murmured meekly.

He could hardly speak, but he managed a small nod. "Um... okay."

"Slide your seat back," I said in what I figured was a bedroom voice, and it was pretty damned sexy.

Once he'd slid he seat back and tilted it, I reached over and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his khakis. He raised his butt up off the seat and helped me slide them and his briefs down, exposing his mostly-hard cock. My breath caught when I touched it.

Kneeling sideways on the seat I lowered my face into his lap. The minute my mouth closed over the head, I forgot that he was a guy. When I took the length of it and then sucked my way back to the head, I forgot my own name.

In my excitement I started too aggressively and he tell to slow down, "We're not in that much a hurry."

Slowing down, I took my time and savored his dick. I used my tongue on the underside of his thick cock head where that small piece of skin connects it to the shaft. Enjoying myself, continued working his head. When I heard him moan, "Ooooh yeah, suck it man, suck my cock," I deep throated him. Held my nose against his public hair for a couple of seconds before I did a slow pull back up to the head.

When he started his hips more and more I matched his up strokes and deep throating him as he fucked my mouth. He got louder and louder His eyes met mine as I sucked hard on the head and then rammed downward, taking it all the way his balls into his throat.

"Oh god," he whimpered and then nearly swallowed his tongue when my hands got in on the act. One hand wrapped around the base of his cock while the other fondled his balls. The cock-hand would twist every time my mouth ascended to suck and lick at the head and then move away when I took him back deep into my mouth.

He whimpered and tried to keep from fucking my hot mouth as I bobbed faster and faster. My hair brushed against his abdomen with every down stroke, and I felt his hands touching it gently, urging me on with every huffing breath that escaped his lips.

The pressure built to an unbearable level.

"Ooohhhh my godd, I'm Cumming Dillian. I'm Cumming in your mouth! Ooohhhh, Ooohhhh, Ooohhhh yesss," and then he did, coming so hard it felt like his cock was going to combust. I took it all in without breaking my rhythm and swallowed while sucking him completely dry. I'm not exactly sure what I expected but it had an acrid peppery taste and it kind of burned my tongue. But I swallowed anyway.

He was a limp, boneless lump when I was done. I probably could have cut his throat and taken his wallet. And he would have let him do it with a stupid grin on his face.

"Fuck," he said as he sat back and wiped my mouth with his jockeys. He smiled.

"Good?" I asked.

"Fucking incredible," he said as he stirred himself enough to pull up his khakis and put Mr. Happy-and god, was he happy-back inside his fly and zipped up.

Trevor opened the door, got out and then reached back in to heft his bag.

"Your girlfriend's an idiot," I said quickly.

He smiled softly. "Thanks, Dillian." Then he shut the door and pulled out his cell phone as he headed for the front door.

No, thank you, I thought as I pulled away.

by charles-smythe

Email: [email protected]

Copyright 2024