Highway Hustle

by Roland Graeme

  I also asserted my independence by moving out of my parents’ house, with their blessing, and indeed with their help.

  My parents had bought, outside the town, “the farm,” as we always referred to it, at an auction, thinking it would be a good investment. And it was. They didn’t work the fields. Rather, they leased the fields, and an orchard, to neighboring farmers, who used their own equipment, storing some of it in the barn and the sheds.

  I moved into the farmhouse, an old two-story clapboard building. In my spare time, I did some repairs and remodeling to the place, improving it, with an eye toward potential resale value. It would’ve been a small dwelling for a large traditional farm family, including some live-in hired help—but for a single guy, it was a roomy space to live in. I was responsible for the utilities, so in fact I closed off some of the rooms and I didn’t use them at all.

  As you can imagine, I had plenty of privacy, and the farmhouse and the barn were great places in which to party with my friends—or to entertain the occasional stranger.

  Shortly after I took up residence in the farmhouse, I had an especially memorable encounter with one of my buddies.

  He was a neighbor, who worked on his family’s farm. In fact, his family leased one of the fields my folks owned. His name was Donnell, but everybody called him Donny, for short.

  I guess you’d call Donny a lout. He was a big, awkward, habitually unkempt kind of a guy. He lacked social graces. There was no harm in him, but he was no Adonis, that was for sure. “The wrong answer to a maiden’s prayer,” my Dad dubbed Donny once, which made me just about bust a gut laughing. Poor Donny! He was the proverbial dude you wouldn’t care to run across in a dark alley!

  One day, I wasn’t working, and Donny and I got together. He was having some trouble with his car, an old heap, so I suggested he bring it over to my new place, along with his tools, so we could work on it together.

  It was a hot day. I had plenty of cold beer in my refrigerator, and we drank freely while, stripped to the waist, we worked on the car engine. Finally, we got it running satisfactorily. We wiped the sweat, dirt, and grease from our bare upper bodies with rags, and we used a soap specially formulated to remove grease to clean our filthy hands and fingernails.

  Then, not bothering to put our shirts back on, we carried them with us when we went inside the house. Once inside the door, I stooped to unlace my work boots and pull them off.

  “Take yours off, too,” I told Donny.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want dirt tramped all over the floor.”

  “Well, aren’t you getting particular, now that you’ve set up housekeeping all by yourself,” he said, jeering at me.

  “It’s just that nobody’s going to scrub this floor but me.”

  Donny removed his footwear, and, padding about in our socks, stripped to the waist, we relaxed and drank more beer.

  “Found yourself a new girlfriend yet?” I asked Donny. I knew he’d recently broken up with his old one.

  “No,” he said. “After what that bitch put me through—I’m going to be a little more choosey, next time.” He gave me a searching look. “How about you, buddy?”

  “Oh, I’ve been dating—on and off—but nothing serious,” I replied, evasively.

  He let out a derisive snort. “Just who the hell do you think you’re fooling, Jason?”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “I’ve heard some stories about you.”

  “What kind of stories? From who?”

  “Interesting stories. And from a reliable source.”

  “Cut the bullshit,” I insisted, impatiently. “Tell me.”

  “I was talking to your buddy Beau Johnson the other day. You and he went to high school together, didn’t you?”

  “So what if we did?”

  “Guess the two of you were pretty close back then. Still are.”

  “Again—so what?”

  “Beau told me back in high school—that’s when you two started sucking each other’s dicks,” Donny said, with relish.

  “Why, that stupid son of a bitch!” I fumed. “He needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut.”

  “Funny. I don’t hear you denying it.”

  “Go to hell! What business is it of yours, anyway?”

  Donny shrugged his broad bare shoulders. “None, I guess. Although some guys might not be as open-minded as I am. They might not want to hang out with a cocksucker. They’d be afraid they might be raped.”

  I felt defensive, but, oddly enough, I also felt defiant.

  “Yeah?” I retorted. “Well, there are plenty of guys who feel the exact opposite about it. How’d this subject come up between you and Beau, in the first place?”

  “Your buddy was sucking my dick,” Donny informed me, gleefully. “When we took a break—that’s when he spilled the beans about you. I remember his exact words. ‘Oh, your cock is even bigger than Jason’s!’ That’s what started the discussion, as I guess you can imagine. He wasn’t shy about filling me on the details of what you two got up to. Quite a bromance, from the sound of it. Two queers, cocksucking and cornholing, every chance you had—!”

  “Why, that trashy little bitch!” I exclaimed.

  “You jealous? You sweet on him?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “He was pretty good, blowing me. Yeah, he really knows how to suck!”

  I grunted. “I never knew you were into that sort of thing.”

  “When I can’t get any pussy—what the fuck?—then I don’t mind getting my cock sucked, or helping myself to a hot, tight piece of man ass.” Donny leered at me. “Guess we have that in common, from what Beau told me.”

  “Let’s forget about Beau. Fuck him!”

  “Sure.” Suddenly, Donny was his usual amiable self again. “Got any more beer?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Enough to get you in the mood—to mess around a little?”

  I looked at him. For the first time, I consciously thought of him as a potential sex partner. He was a big, muscular guy, swarthy, hirsute, big-eared and big-nosed, not exactly male-model handsome, and little roughhewn. He wasn’t terribly scrupulous about maintaining his personal hygiene. Not to be blunt about it—but Donny tended to be unwashed, aromatic, and ripe. But he was damn masculine!

  “Let me get us the beers,” I suggested. “Then we’ll see if I get buzzed enough to let you talk me into anything.”

  He snickered. “Shouldn’t take too much persuasion, from what I’ve heard.”

  “Drop it—okay?” I said, belligerently.

  “Sure, buddy. Don’t get sore!”

  By the time we finished the next round of beer, I’d made my mind up. I decided I might as well go for it. What the fuck? He was a man. I was a man. We might as well bump our manly parts together, in pursuit of our mutual pleasure.

  We went upstairs, into the bedroom I used. We stripped down the rest of the way and we got onto the bed, bare-assed naked, the way we were born.

  That’s when I got a bit of a shock. Donny’s nickname should have been not Donny, but Donkey. The son of a bitch was really hung!

  I gaped at his massive male organ, which, already fully erect, looked more like a deadly weapon than an instrument which could give another, man-loving guy pleasure.

  We started off by giving each other rather tentative, clumsy hand jobs, our movements limited by the alcohol we’d consumed. Soon, however, we worked our fists on each other’s cocks with greater efficiency and confidence.

  I really enjoyed pumping away on Donny’s oversized prick, skinning back his foreskin to bare the glans, which was the size, shape, and color of a ripe plum. I ran my fingers up and down his thick, veiny shaft, and then I cupped my palm around his cockhead and massaged it. With my other hand, I reached for his balls, which were like two eggs, juggling around freely inside their hairy pouch.

  I played with his cock and his balls for a few minutes, during which he lavished the same manual attention upon my own gen
itals.

  I assumed that cocksucking would be the next item on the agenda. Already wondering whether I’d have any difficulty fitting all of Donny’s hefty endowment inside my mouth, let along down my throat, I was nevertheless willing to give it a try. I was about to suggest that he let me go down on him, when he surprised me. He wanted us to bypass oral, at least for the time being, and move right on to anal!

  “I want your ass,” Donny mumbled. “Okay?”

  I hesitated for a moment, speculating about what that monster cock of his would feel like inside my butt. “Okay,” I then agreed.

  “You got any grease?”

  “Here.” Sliding open the drawer of the nightstand beside my bed, I took out a tube of sex lubricant and handed it to him. “Put plenty of it on you,” I insisted.

  Donny slicked up his hard-on. “Roll over,” he instructed me. “Get on your belly.”

  Face down on the bed, I felt him roll on top of me. He was heavy, but I didn’t mind. The pressure of his muscular nude body on mine, weighing me down, was actually pleasurable, and knowing that he was about to take me anally made me feel even hotter and sweatier. My heart pounded like a jackhammer inside my chest, and my throat suddenly felt tight and dry.

  I felt Donny reach down and grasp his erection in his hand. He bent it to press the head right between the cheeks of my ass, into the hairy crack. His dickhead was slippery not only from the lube he’s applied to it, but from the fuck juice his piss slit was already dribbling.

  “You’d better be ready,” he warned me. “Uh, this damn hard-on of mine! And your hot-looking ass—yeah, I’m going to fuck you—!”

  Before he was done speaking, he was already nudging his cockhead against the puckered rim of my asshole. Then he pushed his way gently but firmly inside me! I tensed, because even though I was drunk enough to be relaxed, and I wanted him to do it, to use my body in any way he wanted, I was still anxious about whether it would hurt, because Donny was hung so big.

  My fears were justified. He sank his prick deep into me, and instantly I felt my anus convulsing, and a burning sensation of pain rushed through me!

  I buried my face in the pillow to keep from screaming in protest. I lay there under him, moaning, while he shoved his cock all the way into me, filling every cubic inch of the interior of my cringing asshole.

  He withdrew partway, but this momentary respite did nothing to relieve my agony.

  “You okay?” he asked me. “You want it? You want to get fucked?”

  “I guess so,” I gasped, unwilling to commit myself fully.

  But it was too late for me to back out of the fuck now! Interpreting my failure to express my misgivings in plain English as compliance, Donny got to work.

  He started to push down again, and I felt the thick head of his fuck tool going deeper and deeper into my rectum. And then—oh, God!—he crammed it deeper yet into me, thrusting my anal membranes aside to make room for his bloated, throbbing shaft, until I honestly expected to feel it penetrate all the way up into my stomach, or even slide up into my throat from below!

  I didn’t think I would be able to take that big dick without passing out or even dying, if there was much more of it left to be shoved inside me. But, suddenly, Donny let out a lot, sexy grunt of undisguised satisfaction, and he sank down on top of me, shuddering from head to foot. He was getting used to the heat and the tightness of my ass which surrounded his buried prick. I felt the wiry scratch of his thick pubic hair rubbing against the smooth skin of my ass cheeks, and the soft slap of his balls against my back, lower down. He was all the way in me at last, all right. I had every inch of that farmer’s incredible stud cock jammed up my willingly violated ass!

  He drove his mouth up against my ear, kissing it, and then he dug his wet tongue inside it. I went berserk with lust! I began to squirm beneath his body, and when I did, his cock began to move back and forth inside me.

  I was no virgin. I’d fooled around with some of my buddies, and our experimental sex play had progressed rapidly from jacking off in front of each other, to playing with each other’s dicks and masturbating each other to orgasm, and then—inevitably—to oral sex, trading blow jobs. Finally, we’d tried anal—and I, for one, sure as hell decided I liked it! But all this screwing around had been mostly clumsy and fumbling. It was just a question of horny youths, at the mercy of their raging hormones, frantically banging their bodies together in various configurations, in a mindless effort to expel semen and find relief.

  Now, for the first time, I was getting it on with a guy who really seemed to know what he was doing. Donny was extremely goal-oriented—his goal, obviously, being to fuck the hell out of my ass! That well-hung bastard really knew how to use his oversized equipment to plow another guy’s anal furrow. My tight, hot ass seemed to inflame him, and his cock plunged in and out of my juicy asshole like a well-oiled piston.

  “How does that feel, man?” Donny whispered into my ear, between licks of his hot, wet tongue.

  “Uh, that big thing of yours is really going in deep,” I groaned, as I writhed under him. “It’s really stretching me out and filling me up, you dirty son of a bitch! But—I guess I like it—well enough,” I admitted, punctuating my words with desperate gasps for much-needed breath. “It’s good—damn good!” And I was being honest. Even the nagging discomfort felt good in a perverse way, part of the intense turn-on.

  “You mean that? You really like it? You like getting fucked?”

  Fucked! I’d never truly known the full meaning of that word until then. It wasn’t until I’d had my buddy’s hot, hard cock rammed up inside my burning asshole, reaming me out, that I appreciated what it really meant to get fucked! But now I did. And I liked it, all right!

  “Yeah,” I begged him, frantically. “Yeah, you bet I like it! Fuck me, Donny. Fuck me!”

  “Most of the other guys I’ve fucked were so drunk they didn’t really know what they were doing,” Donny remarked. “They just sort of lay there and took it. But you’re a pretty live one, aren’t you?”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” I retorted. “I’m taking your cock up my ass! Keep going. Don’t stop. Don’t hold back. I really do want you to screw me. Oh, God, do I ever want you to pound my hole! Fuck me, and fuck me hard! Fuck me up the ass until you shoot—until you come in my ass!”

  I knew that, after the plowing, there’d be the seeding. I was already looking forward to that. But getting there was more than half the fun!

  Donny seemed to feel the same way about it. He began to slam his cock in and out of my hole. Slowly at first, in a teasing way which drove me crazy. I could feel how the big, thick cockhead pulled back, sliding almost all the way out of my ass, but stopping just before it actually popped out of my pucker. Then, suddenly, it would ram itself back high up unto my guts again, in a single brutal fucking thrust which filled me with dick once more.

  “Uh!” I grunted. “Goddamn you, you really know how to fuck!” I clawed at the mattress and I shouted, “Oh, Christ—yeah, fuck me, yeah!” over and over again, while Donny plowed into my body like a rutting animal.

  “How’s that feel, buddy?” he asked. He paused for moment, to catch his breath and to wipe the sweat from his face.

  “Great,” I gurgled. “It feels just great! Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop now. My ass is just getting used to it. And I like it. Give me more. Give me more of that big dick! Please, man! Please screw me some more!”

  “Like I’m going to quit now,” he grunted, not without humor.

  “Do it to me really hard, now!” I demanded. “Make us both come. Make us both shoot!”

  Without being aware of it, I was behaving like what city gays call a “bossy power bottom.”

  “You’re such a whore,” Donny jeered at me. Prophetic words, as things turned out! He pushed my face down into the pillow, muffling my horny cries, my brazen pleas for more cock up my ass, my demands to be given more and rougher fucking. “You want it so bad? Then shut up, lie there, and take i
t! I’m really going to fuck you now, boy!”

  What the hell have you been doing so far? I wanted to yell at him. Just tickling my ass?

  But he wasn’t kidding. “Oh, fuck—fuck!” he groaned. He sped up his humping action, pounding me even harder. I was getting what I’d asked for, and then some! The fucking stated to hurt again, but I was so far gone, so maddened by lust, that I didn’t give a damn. he could have ripped my ass wide open with his dick, and I wouldn’t have complained.

  His prick was really reaming out my shithole as I squirmed my butt up against his groin to increase the friction, the depth of the penetration, and the pressure. I was loving every minute of it, every thrust he made into me. He drove deep into me with each stroke and he pulled almost all the way out when he reared back, only to lunge down savagely again. Each time he shoved it into me like that, I felt the full swollen length of that stiff pecker of his sliding straight up my ass, to the balls.

  Donny spat obscene insults at me, telling me I was a “man cunt,” a “pussy boy,” and a “dirty piece of stinking whore ass.” I accepted the taunts as high praise.

  “Bitch,” he gasped. “Oh, your fucking tight, hot ass!”

  I felt his dick quivering inside me. Lunging deep into my hot hole. Hard and throbbing with ferocious, potent life.

  “Aw, shit—I’m going to come, man!” Donny lamented.

  “Do it!” I urged him. “Come in my ass!”

  He pressed his face hotly into my shoulder, while we writhed and humped together in total, abandon, and his prick pumped into me even more forcefully. He was at the point of no return. He was going to shoot!

  My own cock was throbbing away nonstop as it pressed into the mattress beneath our bodies, and I knew that I, too, was just about to come. Without even touching myself!

  I felt his dick slam into my ass once more, but this time he didn’t pull back out. His cock remained lodged deeply inside me, filling me. A shudder convulsed his big body. He groaned like a dying man. And then, suddenly, his cock began to quiver again within the walls of my clenched anus, and I felt the first hot, wet spurts of his cum shoot out of him, straight up my ass. The farm stud was breeding me!