The Full Ride

by Gavin Atlas

  Bill grabbed my privates and squeezed. “Maybe so, but it’s a damn good thing you’re a bottom.” He laughed again and grazed a hand up my side, tickling me. “Now you’re a law-abiding citizen, Tanner. Which of your masters is making you do this?”

  I balked. “I’m not sure I should say. And hey, how do you know I’m not in a real relationship?”

  “As if this town would allow you to be with one man. Not going to tell me? Then, why don’t you climb on top of the hood of your car and lift your legs so I can do a cavity search.”

  Did I have a choice? No. I had to be obedient. My breath sped up and my dick stiffened as I got on the hood and lay back. Bill wasted no time lifting my legs in the air and started groping my ass.

  “So how long has Hank been fucking you?”

  My eyes widened. “Wait…what? How could you know I was going to see him?”

  Bill burst out laughing. “I didn’t! But he’s the only one out on Birch Road who’d be after you. I figure you’re not naked for Widow Jenkins or that Mormon family.”

  Bill now had one hand on my dick, and the other fingered my pucker. That shaming voice that said I needed to be in a normal, respectable relationship was back. Good going, slut boy. Naked with your rump in the air on the hood of a car. That’s sure to help you find a boyfriend in a town where everyone knows everything. The voice might have had more to say, but Bill had reached my prostate now, the pressure of his fingers making sure my hole felt more and more of his need. Pleasure running up my side made the voice clam up.

  “Oh, God, Bill, that feels so good. But I said I couldn’t do this anymore after you got married.”

  “You must be the one person who doesn’t know. My wife ran off with Ms. Hotchkiss from the library. So I’m as lonely as anyone. Does that gain me admission to your ass?”

  I moaned. “But I have to give it up to Hank.”

  Bill sank his face between my legs and began to rim me. “What about Hank?” His voice was muffled. Rimming is such a shocking sensation to me. It’s like tickling times a thousand. I bucked and thrashed with each flick of his tongue.

  “Please!” I begged. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to go insane!”

  “Rimming is torture, eh? Then I’ll keep going.” He dove back in until I could hold back no longer and screamed.

  “Jeez! Quiet, Tanner! Do you want the whole town to wake up?”

  “If you rim me, I can’t help it,” I whimpered

  “Then I’ll just have to stuff something in your mouth to shut you up.” He unzipped his fly and brought out his hard dick. He’d fucked me several times before he’d married. I hadn’t remembered him being so big!

  “Tell Hank he owes me a free tune-up for leaving your ass tight for him, but I’m going to take your mouth.”

  I dismounted my car and knelt in front of Bill, my knees pressing into the sharp gravel that lined the road. The heat of the moment kept me from shivering in the chilly night air. I took Bill’s dick between my lips and sucked, tasting his sweat. He was big enough that I had to deep throat in order to get him all the way in. I needed to stay calm. I told myself I could do this without triggering my gag reflex. More than one top had called me a fellatio expert.

  Bill put his hand on my head and shoved in and out. “God, what a good mouth,” Bill whispered. The compliment made me try even harder to please his cock.

  “Tanner, you’re turning blue. Don’t forget to breathe,” Bill cautioned.

  I ignored his warning and bobbed on his rod with energy.

  The top cop began to grunt, “Mmhmm…nnnh….mmmh… Jesus!” He pulled out, and I closed my eyes before he drenched my face in come.

  “Whew,” said Bill as he wiped his seed off me with his sleeve. “You’re so good at that they should give you a medal.”

  “I’d better go see Hank now,” I said, wiping my chin. “Bill, are you okay?”

  Bill had settled into the passenger seat of his patrol car, his pants not even buckled. “What time do dental office receptionists get off work tomorrow, Tanner?” he mumbled.

  “Half-past—hey, Bill? Are you able to get home all right?” This is why I didn’t have sex anywhere except my partners’ beds. But I didn’t usually have this effect from blowjobs. I must have outdone myself.

  “For not busting you for driving naked, I’m coming over later…leave your door unlocked and be nude on the…zzz…I’m going to barge in and hit that ass to my…zzz…heart’s content.”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered. So I’d be getting my rump pumped by two men tomorrow, though if Officer Bill came over, I’d have to make up the sofa bed for myself. My dick couldn’t be any stiffer.

  I saluted Bill’s sleeping form and walked back to my car, feeling the cold breeze on my backside with every step.

  Three minutes later I was at Hank’s. I grabbed my phone and headed up his walk, hoping none of his neighbors were getting a look at my privates. Before I could ring the bell, the door opened. A brown hand shot out and grabbed me by the waist, then pulled me into the shadows of the foyer.

  “Very obedient,” Hank said in the darkness. “You did come over nude.” He pushed me down to the stone floor. My phone landed safely on a mat behind my head.

  In seconds, he had me lubed up with my legs in the air. I felt his dick graze my pucker as he aimed it at my hole and slammed right in. I shouted at his powerful entry as a bolt of my favorite kind of pain whipped up my spine. I had the presence of mind to lean forward and double-check with my hand that he had a condom on. I found one, realizing he must have suited up the second my car pulled in. Then I lay back and let Hank ream me. He was big—almost too much to handle, and I felt myself being stretched. Being such a popular bottom meant I didn’t experience being stretched often, and the return of that burning ache felt so good. My grunts and moans were authentic, to say the least. From my sweating and straining, he must have known every thrust took fortitude to endure.

  Hank was wicked. Every so often he’d tickle my feet, making my body jerk. At the same time he’d push his prick in even deeper. I hollered my head off each time.

  “I had to get in this ass the second you walked in, but I’ve heard how this will go. We should head to my bed.” He pulled out slowly, which let me know how long he was. Then he helped me stand. I wobbled on my feet, but Hank gripped me by the shoulder and began marching me up the stairs. Halfway up, he bent me over and pressed me down.

  “Damn, it’s already been too long. I can’t even get up the steps without having your hole again.”

  I whimpered, pinned down by the mechanic’s massive frame. My forehead, chest, gut, and knees each pressed against hard wood. But I wanted to be the best bottom ever, and if Hank wanted to fuck me on the stairs, then my ass would get fucked on the stairs.

  Hank grabbed me about the waist and drove in, fucking not just my ass but my whole body. I gasped and gritted my teeth to take his thick, heavyweight penis. I arched up and tried to look back at him. I wanted either to see a look of approval and pleasure on his face or clues as to how I could earn one. I couldn’t turn my head enough to see him, but the powerful, punishing drilling he gave me let me know my hole was pleasing him so far. Knowing that sent a hazy bliss humming through my gut and up the length of my cock.

  Again, he pulled out, this time with a popping sound. Then he lifted me and tossed me over his shoulder.

  “We’re never going to make it to the mattress if your tail is where I can see it.”

  He carried me up the rest of the stairs and into his bedroom. In front of the bed, he lifted me with one hand and separated my legs so I straddled his chest in midair. I had no idea he was that strong! He slowly lowered me down his torso until I was at groin level. His dick just slid inside my hole. My head snapped back as he pushed all the way in. Each time he hit my prostate, I felt a shiver of ecstasy from my aching thighs to my brain.

  He fucked me like that for maybe five minutes before letting my back and neck hit the mattress. He stayed lodge
d inside the whole time. Now he had me with my legs in the air on the edge of the bed. He plowed my asshole with abandon. I was already so sore from the two men who’d screwed me earlier, but I needed to prove to Hank I was a great bottom, so I let him fuck the hell out of me.

  “This is…some…great…ass, Tanner,” Hank said as he thrust in and out at a mad pace. “I’ll have to nail you all the time now.”

  “In your garage? On the creeper?”

  “Yeah, boy. You know it.” He continued to plow me at a tremendous speed for what seemed like an eternity. The thought of having to take this much dick on a constant basis made my balls rise.

  “I’m gonna come,” I said.

  “That’s right, come for me, town bottom. I want proof you can’t get enough.”

  I shot all over my stomach and chest, the rush of endorphins more exquisite than ever. I couldn’t believe I’d come so hard after ejaculating with the other two tops just hours ago.

  “Mmmnh, you’re so tight now,” Hank said, his voice deep and hoarse. Getting fucked after I come hurts so much, but I rolled back farther and let Hank pummel me.

  He began to growl and grunt, his thrusts harder than ever, and then he shoved in as deep as possible one final time, losing his load with a roar.

  “Oh…God, that was good.” Hank stayed buried inside me a while longer. “Let me kiss—holy fuck, I’m exhausted already. How do you do that?” He pulled out gently, threw the condom in the trash, and collapsed on the mattress.

  “Hey, hold on. I bet you don’t want lube on your sheets.” I grabbed a wash cloth from his bathroom and cleaned him up.

  “Better?” I said, drawing the covers above his chest and kissing him on the lips. “Good night, Hank.”

  “Sleep next to me…if you want,” he said, already beginning to drift off.

  “I can’t, sir. You wanted me naked, so I have to drive back before dawn.”

  He didn’t respond. He was out cold. I’d have to tell him about owing Officer Bill a tune-up some other time. I washed off in his bathroom, using up another towel, tiptoed out of his room and back down the stairs. I picked up my phone and saw there was a new text message from another man, an ER doctor.

  Just got off the night shift. Cannot sleep. Need to pump those buns. Bring them over.

  No, no, no. I can’t. How would I get home after sun up? My fingers would not obey and type “Sorry. Maybe later.” My head filled with visions of my legs in the air a fourth time in twelve hours. The thrum in my groin and my core took cover.

  Okay, then type nothing. Pretend you didn’t get it. The shaming voice piped up again. Tanner! Is anyone going to respect a total, utter slut bottom enough to even think of you as boyfriend material? Stop this right now.

  Yes, sir, I wrote back to the doctor. My ass is yours.

  I shivered as I walked out the door, still nude. It would have been smarter to borrow a T-shirt and shorts from Hank, but apparently smart wasn’t my thing today. All that mattered? Men can’t sleep when they’re horny. The town bottom’s work is never done.

  Three-Way at the Western

  Chapter 1: The Tuscany

  This guy, this “number” as Burt called them, was better looking than most men Burt approved. Maybe a seven out of ten. Most important, he’d become more lust-filled and insistent by the minute. Drew wished Burt would show up soon. The man had asked questions Drew had heard too often, for one. But mostly, he didn’t want to resist anymore. He wanted to give up his hole. Now, now, now.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to be a prostitute?” the number asked. The man blew smoke toward the yellow lampshade as he ran circles with his fingers between Drew’s naked legs.

  “No,” said Drew, wishing he hadn’t promised his boyfriend, Rahim, he would quit smoking, so he could ask for a drag off the cigarette. “This is bigger, and it’s…one guy’s fantasy.” He began searching for his socks, but his phone beeped. “One rich guy’s fantasy who wants to make my own come true.”

  “Fantasy, I’ll give you, but it’s a game, too,” the man said. “Hey. Don’t put on clothes. I like you as you are. Those leather pants looked damn good on you though.”

  The text was from Rahim, instead of Burt. Drew put the phone down and looked back at the man’s powerful chest and shoulders. When guys brought up prostitution, Drew felt a need not to be naked. He looked for socks, but his dick was too hard to roll over on his stomach for a better view. All he saw were the ugly gray diamonds of the Tuscany’s carpet. He gave into the man’s grip on his thighs and lay back. “It’s not a game, dude.”

  “Either he’s playing you or you’re not serious. You don’t really get your own casino for doing three-ways, do you?”

  “Burt and I have a deal. All the resorts on the Cheapo Vegas list. He watches a guy fuck me, then he fucks me. Seventy-three casinos later, I get my place. I’ve done sixty-five.” Drew raised his hands as if presenting the hotel room to the man. “Sixty-six.”

  The man raised his eyebrows. Drew wasn’t sure if he was impressed or freaked out.

  “I’m gonna call my casino the Zanzibar. I want it off-strip. Near the Rio and the Palms. They’re swank, even if they don’t rule the scene. But I’m being reasonable.” Or that was what he kept saying to Burt.

  His phone beeped again—still not Burt, but a guy who took turns fucking Drew with Rahim. Drew closed his eyes, willing Burt to barge in.

  The number stopped smoking and kneaded Drew’s thighs with both hands. Drew had to wait for Burt before lifting his legs. Earlier Burt had hidden a camera in the room, so he couldn’t “cheat” and start early. He bit his lip and shut his eyes tight. When the number put Drew’s ass in the air, he took deep breaths, covered his hole with his left hand and pressed against the man’s chest with his right.

  The man shook his head in frustration. “From all the texts, I can tell a ton of guys want to fuck that ass.” He fumbled for another cigarette but found the pack empty. “Still, couldn’t this rich dude afford any boy he wanted? I bet the hottest porn star could be had for, I don’t know, two grand a night. A casino is too high dollar for anybody.”

  Drew’s breath came too fast for him to speak clearly, but he managed, “So I’m trading my ass for nothing? Everyone gets to fuck me, I get nothing, and I’m an idiot?” His own words made him flash on a memory of Burt holding him tight, kissing him, and telling him he wasn’t an idiot. He turned his head, half-burying it in the pillow to fight off his sudden need for affection and the urge to kiss the number on the lips.

  “I’m sorry. I can see giving you most anything. I mean, your skin, your whole fucking body, is delectable to the point I’m having trouble not biting you, but that’s madness.”

  Drew smiled, but his mood didn’t lift. Not for the first time, Drew tried the math in his head. If the most famous bottoms from Bel Ami Studios cost two grand like the guy said, then that’s two grand times seventy-three three-ways. Wait, plus seventy-three airfares from Europe. Would three-ways be extra? He stopped trying to come up with a number. Whatever the answer was, a casino hotel would cost millions more.

  Drew closed his eyes and focused on another memory: The time Burt said Drew could launch more ships than Helen of Troy.

  Drew looked down at his own body and absently adjusted his legs to relieve a muscle cramp, but with the man’s renewed pressure, it appeared he’d spread his legs wider. “May I ask your name?”

  The man looked away, his smile mischievous. “Parker. Parker Stevenson.”

  The actor from the Hardy Boys. As far as Drew knew, he never got real names, but this was insulting. “You know, I have an urge to watch seventies TV. I never understand these urges. They’re such a mystery.”

  “Parker” looked down, chuckling with embarrassment. “You’re too young to know that show.”

  The man pushed Drew’s hand away so he could massage his hole again. “How’d you meet this Burt?” he asked.

  “I always parked his car at the Aladdin. That’s how we started in alph
abetical order. We’re doing the Venetian soon, but after that is the Western. Fucking dreading it. Do you know the Western?”

  “Not really, but I read that neighborhood is to be avoided. So the letter W already? You must get fucked non-stop.”

  True, but mostly by Rahim and the guys Rahim enjoyed watching, and still not so often that he wouldn’t be tight, especially not for this number. “It’s been three years, I think.”

  “Three years? You’ve been doing this three-way thing since, let me guess, the day you turned eighteen?”

  “Not quite that long, but well before I should have been allowed in a casino.”

  “Or a bar. And you’re still parking cars at the Aladdin?”

  “You know what dyslexia is? Not a ton of opportunities.”

  “That’s not my question. Why hasn’t he already gotten you something better? Did you miss the fact that he’s old and fat? Maybe he’s telling you what you want to hear because he knows you wouldn’t let him inside you otherwise?”

  “I like it. He fucks me hard. I think I’m earning this. Shouldn’t I be allowed to be proud of myself?” That was something Burt said to him all the time. Especially right after Drew mentioned he’d had to live with neighbors when his parents found out he was gay.

  The man chuckled. “That didn’t answer my question either. Anyway, hot boy, I hope you get everything you want.” The man pushed two fingers inside Drew and pressed in again and again. “I got what I want right here. When I checked into the Tuscany I thought ‘Why the fuck is the meeting being held out here?’ But then I saw you with the top of your ass cheeks over those pants and knew this was the perfect place.” Now the man rose to his knees, pushing Drew’s legs back again, an arm wrapped around each of Drew’s thighs.

  Wait. Drew had been given an opening into his favorite topic: critiquing hotel décor. “Pssh. The Tuscany. This place—”

  “God, that ass.” The number pushed Drew’s legs back farther and began rimming him.

  “This place does nothing with their…theme.” Forget it. Drew couldn’t talk. He heard the hotel phone ring once—the signal that Burt would be there in less than a minute. “Okay, okay. Thank God. It’s time. Parker, can you put on a condom and be thrusting, but aim too high on purpose so that Burt walks in to see the very second you get my ass?”