I had driven almost 600 miles with a couple of these suck mags on the car seat. I had seen a few hot looking guys in the rest stops, but could make no headway...

But...with only 30 miles to go before I would leave the four lane ...

There he was, walking slowly along the side of I-20, a large drink cup in his hand.

His broad, tanned shoulders pushed muscled arms through a light blue tank top. Tight, faded blue jeans gripped his taunt buns and his sensual, ambling cadence would have melted a rock.

I passed him, watched in the rear view mirror and slowed to a stop. He began a slow jaunt, a smile playing on his face.

He slid into the seat beside me, resting the drink cup on his knee. I stared at his dark eyes, his after-five shadow and a wide, white toothed grin.

As we pulled onto the highway, I allowed myself the pleasure of glancing frequently at him as we exchanged pleasantries. His frame was muscular, even stocky. His chest was football-player thick and a mass of black hair curled over the tank top neck and from under his arms.

Sweat glistened in beads on his upper chest and amplified the muscled contours of his shoulders and arms. He small-talked about the road, the last three lucky rides, the boiling sun and his unsuccessful search for a contracting job.

I retaliated with equally small talk about my book and article writing life (making sure I looked down at the magazines which lie in obvious suggestiveness between us), the trip I was on and his great tan. He grinned at the latter and said he had been to the Carolina beaches for a summer fling.

I saw him take a quick look down at the two mags, then back to the road.

I asked about a girl friend; he said he had several and explored my mind with a statement about not getting married because `one gal just can't satisfy me at this point.'

Who could have let that statement go by?

I stared down at the obvious bulge in the tight jeans. He shifted the beautifully contoured python upward so as not to be so obvious (I think the stud on front of FIRSTHAND had turned him on); but the move only served to intensify the scene. A mushroom head pouted its swelling ridge as the shaft boasted its firmness straining against the thinning denim.

"You got enough for two to handle, huh," I quipped nervously, fishing for what might lie ahead.

"Well...yeah, I reckon you could say that," he said, a low laugh filling the car. I saw him glance down at the GUYS mag.

"I write for these magazines now and then," I said, proud of the fact that the editors had selected my factual accounts as Contest Winners a few times. "I usually write about my experiences with some really hot guys I've met. I had a lover in Georgia who had enough to satisfy two women...but he chose to satisfy me instead...I miss him...a lot..."

The subject was no longer hidden. He looked at me strangely, smiled; then he asked if I did any of the artwork.

I reached over slowly and touched his thigh.

"I do some artwork, but have never submitted any to these mags. They already have some really great artists, dontcha think?"

He shook his head affirmatively as he leafed through the pages.

Maybe you'd like to give me a new experience to write about," I said, and let my eyes meet his, then slowly fall to his crotch. My tongue circled my lips as our eyes met again - and my fingers snaked under the loose hem of the tank top shirt.

"Yeaaahhh...maybe so..." God, he looked so sexy.

He looked down; then his hand touched mine and he moved my hand from under his shirt to the swollen mound between his legs. I caressed the full mass and heard him moan softly as he leaned back and pushed his hips upward to meet my trembling fingers.

I had slowed considerably and several cars passed, blowing thier horns.

When he released my hand, I slid it back under the shirt and eased the fabric upward. Thick, swirling curls danced around a deep navel and spiraled out over a thick, well-developed chest. I rubbed slowly over his chest, toying with the coarse hair and gently squeezing a wide, brown, stiffening nipple.

I told him blatantly that a hairy chested guy was always a turn on for me. He thumbed through GUYS again, as if looking for something. 

I knew its pages were filled with sensual drawings of hunky men and big thick cocks.

"I'm hairy all over ... like this guy," he said, pointing out the back page ad for the All Male Hotline (July 1991), "...wanna see?"

He slipped the book back onto the seat, crossed his arms in front of his chest and slipped the tank top off with one swift move. He was right. His shoulders and back bore traces of dark hair, and I stared down at his belly where thick hair spread out over a tapered well worked washboard and begged me to look further.

I drove on, my right hand slowly rubbing up and down his muscular chest. His breathing was heavy and he closed his eyes and allowed me the pleasure of feeling his taunt, youthful body.

We had passed a treatment site of some kind and I told him we could turn around and park behind it.

"Whatcha' got in mind," he said, his dark eyes opening and staring into mine, questioningly. I couldn't believe his play at niavette.

I saw the turn around ahead and pulled into it.

"If the rest of your bod is as hunky as what I see....", my breath was catching, "...I want to get that big cock of yours in my mouth."

Blatant and wanton enough?

"Shit! Really? Let's go for it."

I smiled at him, tweaked a nipple and made the turnaround, almost racing back to the treatment site.

I pulled in behind the vacant, fenced-in building. I was right; no one could see from the highway, yet we could see both ways fairly well.

I let the engine idle to maintain air conditioning and turned to him.

"Whatcha' want me to do ... this is new for me, you know..."

I did not speak, but ran my hands from his knees to his crotch while looking into his handsome face.

He lay back against the door for a second as both my hands found great pleasure in rubbing up and down his gorgeous chest; then my deft fingers unsnapped the top button on his jeans. The force of the massive tool which lay in waiting forced the zipper more than halfway down.

Like me, he wore no undershorts! Black hair curled up from his crotch and the thick, blue veined cock which had been in hiding, sprang into view. The perfectly proportioned head was lemon-sized atop a very impressive shaft which began pulsing the moment it felt the cool air of the car's air conditioner.

I leaned forward and ran my tongue from the bottom of the swollen shaft to the underside of the head slowly, tasting the thick, sweaty meat. He moaned and pushed me back suddenly.

"Shit! Can I fuck you?"

I panicked. Anal sex is definitely not my main line. I have tried three separate times to little avail and this guy was too well hung to be among the first.

"Hell, no...man, I couldn't take that big prodder...you'd kill me!"

I was serious as a heart attack, but tried to sound complimentary.

He laughed and said, "Shit, no...I mean...can I fuck you in the mouth, man...you know..." He made a turn-around signal with his fingers.

I knew.

Immediately (and willingly), I lay back on the seat and slid my legs beneath his body as he climbed atop me. He was in a push-up position in seconds and I slid beneath his body until I could push his jeans down. He tried to kick them off, but his sneakers prohibited that, so he just put one foot on each side of my legs.

From my vantage point, I had a hunky, hairy, well-hung stud hovering over me, his powerful piston aimed right at my mouth. When I pushed the jeans downward, a massive hairy set of firm balls fell into view and swung seductivelybeneath his straining prick.

I eased downward a bit as he eased upward, and my tongue caressed those balls. The tangy taste of man-sweat only added fuel to the excitement I was feeling in my own groin.


This seemed to be his recurring summation of the roadside activities.

He pushed his hips forward and I looked up to see him place one arm on the door of the car and lean his head out the window. I could not help but laugh inside at how this would look to anyone passing - if they could have seen.

I licked the misky, wrinkled sac and sucked one furry testicle into my mouth and let my tongue swirl softly over the succulent globe; then took the other in also. The huge, hairy sac filled my mouth and I closed my eyes to relish the feel of the twin orbs floating against

my tongue.

With both hands free, I trailed them over his strong, taunt body from his muscled ass and upper legs to that terrific hairy chest. Just the feel of his lithe body was driving me wild as his balls got the tongue loving of their twin lives.

His strong hips began a slow pumping action which became quicker as I tongued his balls and kissed and licked his lower belly. I knew he was needing me to relieve a very basic man-need. I let the soggy balls slip from my cock-hungry lips with a singular popping sound and pulled the hard cock downward. I slithered my tongue around the huge one-eyed mushroom, licking away the sweet- tasting ooze of clear pre-cum. Then, I swallowed the entire shaft with one deft swoop - all the way to those delicious spittle-wet balls.

His favorite explitive streaked the air several times as I rode his cock from stem to stern, deep-throating the magnificent tool each time until I would almost gag.

My eyes feasted on his upper torso. Like something out of a Greek God muscle mag, his body tensed and quivered with each thrust of his fuck stick into my throat. I ran one hand all over his chest, delighting in the feel of his hairy body. The other hand cupped one firm ass cheek and kept his bulbous, throbbing prick pumping home.

He placed both arms on the door as if he were lying on a beach towel and moaned out his lustful pleasure. His hairy legs would alternately adjust his position from straddling my lower legs to inserting themselves between my spread legs. Either position gave him leverage to thrust his powerfully erect cock deeper and harder into my willing throat.

I felt his entire body shiver uncontrollably above me and watched every muscle tense.

"Shit! Shit! I'm...gonna...gonna shoot..ooooohhhhh....gotta cuuuum..."

He tried to pull the pulsing tube from my mouth, but I pushed upward until my nose buried in his crotch hair and I could feel his balls - which had drawn tight against his body - brushing my chin.


I felt a jolting spasm in the shaft of his cock as it ran in and almost out of my mouth. Then, I tasted the hottest explosion of cum I had ever had in my life. His first burst of semi-sweet joymilk coated my tongue and bathed my tonsils; then each burst thereafter was received with a swallowing technique which allows me to capture every precious drop. My tongue spiraled over the molten shaft on his back strokes and around the spurting head on the up strokes.

He looked down at me, his face twisted in that pain-ecstasy of man's orgasm. He seemed amazed and watched as I took his full load, then licked the heavy, thick prick clean from balls to head.

Then, I pulled him downward over me, my tongue trailing up his belly, dipping into his navel and softly sucking his nipples.

When he climbed off my prone body and settled back against the door on his side, he closed his eyes for a few minutes and relaxed. He lay like a nearly nude Greek God before me as my hands continued to roam over his legs, across his thighs and that flat belly.

"Damn, my gal ain't never give me head like that...she never takes my load like that...shit..."

I grinned and licked my lips to show him my approval.

"I may have spoiled you for her," I said, grinning back and running my hand over his bare chest.

He snickered and said, "Maybe you could come to the house and train her...especially that deep throat shit. I ain't never in my life..." He shook his head and pulled his jeans up.

I asked if he had ever had a man give him head before and he said he hadn't; but, with eyes flashing, added, "I sure the hell know this won't be the last time a guy gets this thing...are they all as good at it as you?"

I laughed and assured him that every blow job is a `great' blow job - every time - and from ever who gives it.

I knew we had about thirty miles to go before I would have to turn and let him off, so I asked him to leave his shirt off and his jeans unzipped.

"If you'll drive the next 30 miles or so," I said, "I'll show you the only way to travel."

I picked up the two magazines from the floorboard where they had fallen and positioned them on the dash.

"But, you'll have to leave that big hairy chest naked for me...okay?"

He agreed and when we pulled onto the fourlane from our hiding place, my mouth had already enveloped his newly rising prick. My hands were combing through a sweat-drenched hairy chest and he was in hog heaven - as was I.

Ten miles later ...

"Shit! Shit! Ooooohhhhhh.....shit!"




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