I can't tell you the state I come from or the state I go to

because the whole trip is slightly illegal. My pop owns a popular bar in

my home state. It is a block away from the seat of government and the

court house. We get lots of rich big shots who drink expensive booze.

That't where I come in. Our state has a very heavy tax: the state I

stock up at has almost no tax. Now I don't waste time bringing in just

any whiskey; no only the most expensive scotch.

My name is Toby. I'm twenty-one. I'm 5'10', slightly hairy

chest, average, uncut dick. (I've been told it's very pretty.) I have

short light brown hair, tipped blond.

I had loaded up at (blank state) and was heading home. A trip of

about fifty miles. I generally use back roads to avoid any road blocks

that I might encounter. About half-way it was getting dark. I slowed

down as the road I was on was really rough. A mile further I heard a

loud explosion and the right front tire blewout sending it casing up in

the air about twenty feet. I sighed and got out to get a spare. Luckily

the spare was stored under the rear, otherwise I would have had to unload

all that scotch. As the compartment for the spare came into view I saw

that it was empty. My kid brother must have gotten a flat while out

whoring and never mentioned that he used the spare.

I looked around and saw a small rough cabin on a rise about

twenty-five feet away. I figured I would ask to use their phone and try

to get some road service. I started toward the cabin then thought I

better bring an offering. I opened the truck, slit open a case and took

a bottle of sixteen-year old scotch with me. I knocked on the door and

waited about a full two minutes before it was opened by an old man using

a walker. He peered at me suspiciously until I explained my problem and

said, 'I'd like to offer you this scotch for your trouble.' He licked

his lips in anticipation. Then he called out, 'Billy, come down here.'

There was a clatter of big feet on the rickety stares which shook the

flimsy cabin. A kid about seventeen or so appeared in the doorway. He

was at least 6'6'. He was cute but sort of dumb-looking (too many close

relatives in his past.) The old man who I learned was 'Gramps' explained

the situation, ending with 'And he has a bottle of good stuff with him.'

Billy told me in his backwoods way that they had no telephone.

'No one to call us and no one we hafta call.' But he told me that his

brother Beau would be back in the morning and he had a vulcanizing outfit

in the barn and could probably fix the tire. Gramps told me I could stay

the night and bunk with Billy since Beau was away that night. He put a

skinny arm on me and urged me into the single room in the cabin which

served as a livingroom. Both he and Billy watched eagerly as I opened

the scotch. They provided no glasses but drink from the bottle.

We sat around, near the fire, passing the bottle back and fourth.

Billy seemed to have license to drink with us and kept up. Billy sat on

the floor at our feet not talking, looking from one to the other as

Grampus and I talked. This visiting lasted about two hours. I was

getting pretty high and very sleepy. Gramps just slumped in his chair.

He was out. Billy meanwhile was as drunk as a skunk. His head was

waggling and his eyes were red. 'I think I better turn in,' I said.

'I'll just get my bag from the truck.'

Billy mumbled something and said he'd see me upstairs. I carried

my bag up to the one room loft. There was a low bed, pretty small for

two. Billy lay naked on this back, his breaths coming hard and regular.

His long thin cock lay against one hip. He was dead to the world. I got

undressed to my briefs and slipped into bed, my back to him. He moved

closer and it was pleasant to feel his smooth young body against my back.

I was just slipping off to sleep when I felt him poking my butte.

He mumbled, 'Hi Beau.' He must have thought I was his brother. He

insinuated his now hard cock just below my balls. He was so long that it

poked out in front of me like a second penis. Feeling devilish I began

lightly stroking him. Suddenly he sat up in bed. 'You're not Beau.'

Then he remembered me. He looked at my now stiff cock, leaping with my

pulse. 'Dang it. I got you all sexed up. I'm truly sorry. I'll just

have to fix that up.' He got out of bed, knelt down next to me and took

my cock in his mouth. I've had a few blow jobs in my life but none was a

exciting as this one. He nursed on my dick like it was a teat. Slowly

licking and gently sucking. I began crooning loudly. I wasn't afraid

anyone would hear me. Gramps couldn't make the stairs even if he woke up

which was unlikely. He began humming at his work, sending shivers down

my back. He was so loving, petting my belly, stroking my chest. I

gradually felt myself being down into a cyclone of sensation. I

stiffened and my cock seemed to draw into itself then extend and become

harder and I shot cum like a water canon.

'Was that a good one,' he asked. 'The best a said. Do you want

to cuddle a bit?' I hardly finished the sentence when he feel deeply

asleep. Well, I thought, we still have the morning.



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