Rob picks up a hitchhiker who would never let him get a grope on in exchange for a ride… unless Rob asks in just the right way!
Can Robert figure out how to get a handle on this studly born-again hitchhiker?!
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Rob rarely picked up hitchhikers. This man, however, seemed a worthy exception. He was a dirty-blond redneck with dirty skin, dirty clothes and a ripped, lanky body, his six-pack showing from underneath his torn t-shirt. Despite his look, he smelled like cologne because, he said, he had spilled most of a bottle on these pants a year ago and the smell still hadn’t worked its way out.
The hot Kansas sun beat down on the car, but Rob didn’t run the air-conditioner. He just kept the fan on, which was enough — the temperature wasn’t really that high, so the wind kept it cool. Once the hitchhiker’s sun-baked body entered the car, however, the heat radiating off him made the air so warm that Rob had to flick the air conditioner on.
The highway continued through the woods of northern Alabama, which was where the hitchhiker had stuck out his thumb. He’d kept walking as he hitched, thumbing out when he heard a car coming up behind him.
Rob had pulled over to pick him up, and he gave a polite nod before getting in the passenger seat of Rob’s car. The hitchhiker’s ropy muscles dripped with sweat, and the smell of his unwashed body flooded the car and Rob’s nose from the moment he stepped in. He looked homeless, or rather, he looked like he had no stable address — he didn’t look quite dirty enough to be a hobo, but he probably drifted between halfway homes, homeless shelters and various girls’s houses, maybe interspersed with an occasional kindly priest’s couch. He seemed like that type. He kissed the St. Christopher medal dangling over his chest as he settled into the passenger seat. He didn’t put his seat belt on.
“Yee howdy, thanks fer pickin’ me up, hoss, that’s a mighty kindness of ya,” the hitchhiker said with an enthusiastic grin as Rob got back onto the road. “Don’t bother me none where you is goin’ neither. I don’t have a firm destination, myself, I do declare. I got the ramblin’ bug in me. I got a need to get outta here, ya dig?”
“Yep-“
“This town ain’t big enough for me. Name’s Thomas,” he said. “You’s headin’ south. You gonna keep goin’ that? All the way to Oklahoma? That’d be with me, indeedy-doo, but not a bit further south cuz that way lies Texas, and I ain’t goin’ there. Nosir, just ‘bout e’ry sheriff in Texas has got it out for ol’ Thomas Weathers. The Lone Star State ain’t fo’ me!” He paused. “And they got a warrant out on me.” He looked at Rob, then said, having seemingly forgotten he already introduced himself, “I’s Thomas. Thomas Weathers.”
“I’m Rob.”
“Rob, nice to meetcha. You one of them god-botherers?”
“Uh… no.”
“That’s good. Reckon a preacher picked me up ‘couple miles back, and I swear to God after a couple hours of listenin’ to him sermonize, I says to him, ‘you let me out right here, rev’rnd, cuz I’d rather die in the desert than let you talk my ears into committin’ suicide’.” He cackled and slapped his knee. “We was in the desert, see. And I knew Mesa, Arizona was right down the road. Still just ‘bout died of thirst befo’ I got there, yessuh. And a rattlesnake done try and bite me, but I swear to God, mistuh, I chop that damn rattlesnake’s head right off and made a stew outta his carcass. That’s just how Thomas Weathers rolls, hoss, ya dig?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Now don’t get me wrong, suh, I is a believer, through and through. I done saved and lost my soul so many times I got a direct line to both our glorious Lord above and that sulfurous bastard down below, ya dig?”
“Yeah-“
“I just ain’t a preacher and I don’t cotton to none of that reformin’ and repostulatin’ and re-understandin’ that them God-botherers do. I ain’t lookin’ to integrate Hindus into Christ, if ya catch my meanin’.”
“Uh… yeah,” Rob said, though he had no idea what Thomas was talking about. “Right, uh-huh.”
“I got a real understandin’ of my own relationship with God, and He know the demons I got, boy, He knows it all. He puts them demons in those of whomsoever he has faith can struggle onward. A man’s gotta have a code even if he don’t often follow it.”
Finally there was a moment of silence, as Rob was still flummoxed and didn’t know what kind of response Thomas expected. This was a lot more theology than he expected from hitchhikers. The air conditioner whirred, struggling to cool the air down while heat emanated from Thomas’s body. Thomas looked at Rob and sniffled.
“You a sissy?” He even flashed a limp wrist as though Rob might not understand the question.
Rob blushed and nodded.
“Ain’t not a thing wrong wit’ that, lemme tell you.” He paused. “I mean, there’s a lot wrong wit’ it, don’t think I ‘pprove, cuz I don’t. You motivated by lust, reckon, and that ain’t right. Should be motivated by piety. But it ain’t my place to say. A lotta folk get up all up in arms ‘bout shit that ain’t none of they business, swear to God, ain’t that right, sissy? I bet you gonna make me whip it out, huh, to pay for this ride? Ain’t ya?”
“Well-“
“I wouldn’t blame ya for it, nosirree, when I was growin’ up, that’s how it went down. You could always hitch a ride with someone — trucker, most likely — but ya gotta provide gas, cash, grass or ass!” He whooped, hollered and slammed one hand on the roof of the car. “I always had grass on me in those days.” He paused. “Don’t think you gettin’ any of my ass, boy, no way, no how. I’ll visit some very bloody sin upon you, swear to God, and I will gladly do the time behind bars afterwards. I let you look at it, maybe touch it a bit, if you ask me real nice and respec’ful-like.”
“Uh-huh-“
“Now I gots rules, mistuh, lemme tell you that. I don’t do nothin’ weird, no way. Remember, I is a believer and I been saved again most recently just a couple months ago, swear to God. The Lord Jesus Christ is my personal Lord and Savior, amen and amen again!” His voice gradually rose to an emphatic crescendo. “He does warsh me in the blood and the… the, uh… love of His own very son.” It sounded like Thomas had lost the thread of his theology. “Hallelujah!”
“Oh. I-” Rob was disappointed.
“Don’t get me wrong, I is a sinner, that’s fo’ sho’. I am not gonna cast the first stone, no way, I don’t even cast the second stone. I wait, till maybe the twentieth stone,” he said with a dry chuckle. “You can play wit’ it a little, mistuh, but no butt-stuff. That’s it. Just playin’. Ain’t much sin in playin’, reckon.”
“Uh… okay,” Rob said. He loved handjobs, so he didn’t mind that at all. Besides that, he wasn’t sure there was any other way to get Thomas to stop talking.
Thomas snorted and unzipped his dirty jeans. He pulled his cock out and let it flop against his thigh. He lit a cigarette too. Rob normally didn’t let people smoke in his car, but he didn’t want to do anything that would make Thomas want to leave. His fat dick jiggled as the car vibrated underneath.
“There it is, ain’t gonna get hard for ya, don’t even hope fo’ that, man,” he said. “I can’t get hard wit’out the smell of pussy, swear to God, the stronger the smell the better. I loves it, boy, you don’t even know!” Then he added, “You definitely don’t even know.” He licked his teeth. “I don’t fornicate in a pre-marital fashion. I done give in to urges, for sure, for sure! But I ain’t a believer in that kinda perversion. A man ought save his seed for his ever-begotted wife.”
As he drove down the highway, Rob reached over and touched Thomas’s dick. When he did, Thomas’s whole body spasmed like it hurt. He snorted, took a deep drag on his cigarette and looked out the window. His cock was hot and slick with sweat, the kind of slick texture that suggested Thomas hadn’t showered in some time. Maybe weeks.
That didn’t bother Rob at all. He enjoyed a filthy slice of alpha male rough trade.
“Reckon that’s a big piece of meat, ain’t it? I know you ain’t seen a lotta white men wit’ dicks like that, have ya?” he asked. He cackled and nodded as though Rob had agreed with him even before Rob did so. He did have a huge cock, nice and thick, veiny, swarthier than the rest of his flesh.
Rob stroked it lazily as he drove. He didn’t want to rush things. As Thomas had promised, his dick didn’t get hard, at least not right away. Rob liked the squishy soft feel of a limp cock.
“I don’t get no stiffy without a female. I just can’t do it,” Thomas said. “Not unless I get real drunk, and I don’t do that no more, nosir. No gettin’ drunk for me! I shouldn’t nevuh drink so much — or at all — on ‘ccount of I do things that are unchristianlike when I’s drunk, ya see, ‘ccording to God and my mama on her deathbed and several district court judges and a rack of rev’rnds and a few teachers and a whole squadron of social workers, they all agreed on that, I can’t handle my liquor and I need to quit that. Get my life in order. I done do so. All ’bout the Lawd now!” He called out like a preacher. His cock twitched and Thomas cackled, his dusty muscles flickering beneath his torn t-shirt. He stripped it off, revealing his powerful though lean chest. He made his cock twitch again, laughing at Rob’s girlish blush. “He’s twitchin’ at’cha, boy, he sayin’ hello.”
“You sure you can’t get hard? It kinda feels like you’re getting hard,” Rob said. Tommy’s dick was definitely firming up in his hand, no matter what Thomas claimed. His thick dick was poking up now, not roping around, and Rob paused long enough to spit on his palm to provide additional lube. Then he resumed stroking with one hand, his other steering the car down the highway.
“No suh!” Thomas snapped down. He glared at Rob, even as his dick slowly awakened in Rob’s grasp. “Don’t even think that! I is in control of my meat and my decisions and my theological destination, you feel me? I don’t — I is a Christian soul, reckon, I got the power to resist the lusts and urges flowing through mah veins. I do thank the good Lord above every day that he give me something to resist. That’s how a man does prove his loyalty and his faith. You know about faith, my man?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know about faith,” Rob said. He rolled his eyes, which Thomas couldn’t see because Rob faced the road ahead. Thomas’s Christian prattling was getting old quick. When he asked if Rob was a god-botherer when he first got in the car, Rob thought that was a good sign. He thought that meant Thomas was not so Christian, or at least no aggressively Christian.
“Can you make sounds like a girl?” Thomas asked. “I might get hard if’n you can make some sounds that make me think of a girl. A pretty white girl with blond hair and… a Christian soul.”
Rob blushed. “I guess. I can try.” He moaned a little, in what he thought was a feminine tone of voice. He didn’t know how to moan like a Christian girl, but he did the best he could. When he was done though, Thomas just scoffed at him.
“Some girl.” Thomas looked out the window like he wasn’t involved in the handjob Rob was still giving him.
“Sorry,” Rob said. He quickened up his handjob as he felt Thomas’s dick firming up under his fingers. Soon it was stiff and stuck up. The veins that ran up and down the shaft pulsated beneath Rob’s grip. Thomas closed his eyes like he was shocked to see his own stiffy.
A police car drove by, and Rob’s heart flooded with fear. He thought for a moment he had been made. But the cop in the driver’s seat appeared to be focused on the sports car in front of it. Rob hummed right along in the slow lane, attracting no attention. He kept an even speed, a few miles per hour below the speed limit.
A few drops of pearly, sticky precum dripped out of Thomas’s cock, slicking up Rob’s hand, and he groaned like he was disappointed in himself for getting this far. He shook his head. “Can’t believe this, man, ya hand feels like velvet, man, like an Italian whore on payday, like you don’t even know, man… or I guess you do know, it’s ya hand, I guess you’ve used… it.” His voice broke there at the end, and he chuckled at himself.
He leaned the passenger seat all the way back, so he was laying down. His chest muscles rippled, and a few beads of sweat appeared over his wiry shoulders and pecs. He was unwashed, so his sweat made his body hairs cling to his taut skin.
Rob took a break to move his hand from Thomas’s dick to his body. He caressed his muscles, which were work-toned — you could tell he didn’t get a body like this in the gym. He got it working hard on road crews, day labor, that kind of thing; when he described it, Thomas always said, “I work like a dog, man, I do the work they usually hire Mexicans for. I got nothin’ ‘gainst Mexicans, mind you, ‘cept they don’t provide much conversation in English when we’s on the same crew.”
As a wave of pleasure moved over Thomas’s body, he licked his lips and a fresh burst of precum flowed down his shaft. He murmured and groaned, at a loss for words for the first time since he had gotten in Rob’s car, maybe the first time in a long time. He blushed, the ruddiness of his cheeks barely visible through his deeply tanned skin. It was obvious he never thought a handjob could feel this good, especially coming from a man.
Thomas laughed. “This is some kinda nasty, man, swear to God. I ain’t nevuh done nothin’ this nasty, I just need a ride somethin’ fierce. A man can’t walk e’ry hour of e’ry day, ya dig? Don’t think I do this all the time.”
“I won’t,” Rob said. He imagined he could taste the precum that leaked out from Thomas’s cocktip. It would be so salty and strong. Rob had to suppress a moan just thinking about it. Thomas’s cock spasmed and twitched in his grasp, the precum flowing plentifully now.
“Now I done my share of nasty shit, ‘specially before I found God. I don’t behave that way no more, mind you,” he said. “I gangbanged this girl one time — she was a white girl who chose to get fucked by black men, not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’s just sayin’ it — and we was on this hunting trip. I just ‘bout threw up when I realized it was a gangbang. I thought we was gonna take turns, y’know, she’d wash up between each guy. I was a young whelp then, I had balls that controlled me — no, I’m sorry, that ain’t right. I wasn’t controlled by my balls. I was controlled by my lusts and my urges and by Satan hisself, ya dig? He do set traps for the most virtuous of man.”
“Uh-huh-” Precum smeared over Rob’s hand as Thomas’s veiny shaft pulsated like a heartbeat.
“But what happened right then and there was that I got this big hillbilly motherfucker right behind me, and he’s plowing her in the ass while I fuck her pussy. But I can’t even feel her pussy-lips on my dick on account of gobs of cum dripping onto my balls, hoss, I swear, I could hear that shit splashin’ when I got started. And that big-ass hillbilly was behind me, like he was gonna ram me — he ain’t get it in me, he just put it in her ass, but he was in position to ram me, and I could feel his pubes on my asscheek, man, and I couldn’t even smell that slut on account of him behind me. All I smelled was his nasty-ass armpits.”
“Sounds, uh… Kinda hot.”
“It was not hot, you is wrong and unchristian ’bout that,” Thomas said. He scoffed and leaned back. He lowered his pants all the way, and Rob took the opportunity to caress his hairy thighs and chest again. His muscles rippled beneath Rob’s fingertips. Thomas sighed. “You gonna feel me up? Fine. But you can’t, y’know… do nothin’ unchristian about it. No thoughts of a untoward nature.”
“I won’t,” Rob said with a smile. “I’ll keep my thoughts pristine.” He went back to Thomas’s cock, which throbbed mightily. The precum flowed freely.
“You got mighty pretty lips. If I was drunker or I was in lockup — rules is different in there, ya know — but if I was there, I might be able to let you put ya lips on my dick,” he said. He sounded like he genuinely wanted to but couldn’t let himself. “Lemme see whatchoo can do with them lips.”
Rob removed his hand and put his middle finger on his lips. Then he slid it slowly into his mouth, until he deep-throated it. Thomas watched the whole time, staring. Rob did the same thing with each of his fingers, tasting all of Thomas’s salty precum. He kept his face straight ahead, watching the road and the signs zoom past.
“You do real pretty things wit’ ya mouth, boy, but I’s still Christian. Don’t you try and seduce me,” he said. “That ain’t right.”
“I won’t. I’m not trying to seduce you. This was your idea, remember.”
He sniffled. It looked like he had indeed forgotten that he had brought this up first. “I dunno if I’ll be able to cum like this, wit’ you feelin’ me up,” Thomas said, though his voice lacked confidence like he was already on the verge of orgasm. It sure felt like that was the case, Rob thought when he gripped his cock again. It was spasming and twitching, precum flowing like water froma hose now.
“I bet you can do it,” Rob said. He smiled because it was obvious that Thomas was going to cum no matter what he said. Ruddiness bloomed up Thomas’s chest.
“Nah. My heart won’t let me…” Thomas said, his voice already trailing off. He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I got principles, man, I won’t cum wit’ sin in my heart. I just… I can’t do it.”
He grunted and bit his lip. His wiry, tattooed muscles all flexed and shook in sync with each other, and a burst of hot cum sprayed over his chest and belly. Thomas grunted, twisting as though his orgasm felt so good it hurt. His face turned beet-red and he gasped. A second spray of jizz got up Rob’s wrist to his elbow, and it soaked into the grimy fabric of Thomas’s pants.
The smell of cottony cum filled the tiny car. Rob giggled, moaning as he felt cum running between his fingers and down the skin of his smooth wrist. He wished he could jack himself off at the same time, but forcing himself to resist was kind of hot too — he kept his attention half-trained on the road, but luckily there weren’t many cars on the highway at this time of day. Rob’s cock throbbed in his pants, demanding attention.
“Aw, fuck, man, man…” Thomas’s orgasm continued, spurting wad after wad of creamy hot cum. It coated his lean belly and scarred muscles, dripping down onto his jeans and his hairy crotch. It soaked his pants, and the sour, salty smell of it filled the car.
“Shit, you shoot a hell of a load,” Rob said, his eyes oepning wide.
Thomas grunted in a way that suggested he heard Rob’s words and maybe even tried to respond. But intense pleasure wracked his body, making him squirm in his seat as a final jet of jizz got him across the chest and even on his chin. His cock pulsated beneath Rob’s touch. No matter how animated and seemingly-pained Thomas’s reaction was, Rob kept stroking. He didn’t miss a beat, even as he felt Thomas’s erection diminish.
His cock slowly limpened in Rob’s hand. A few drops of cum continued to ooze out, and Rob knew from experience they were the sexiest, saltiest, tastiest drops. He wished he could swallow Thomas’s dick and taste his cumload. He was already fantasizing about it — in his fantasy, the car could drive itself, so Rob was able to lean over and deep-throat every inch of Thomas’s filthy redneck cock.
It would taste so good — bad, but in a good way, Rob thought. He loved a trashy man’s nasty dick and cumload. Maybe if he wasn’t driving, he thought, he’d be able to talk Thomas into getting some dome. Most men did agree. Why would you ever turn it down? Rob certainly wouldn’t.
In any case, Rob kept going with his hand on Thomas’s cock until he had gotten every last bit of cum. His dick was still hard but softening swiftly, and Rob stroked it until he had gotten every last drop. The smell was potent, and the feeling of sticky cum on his fingers made Rob moan.
Rob brought his hand to his mouth and licked up every drop of cum he could get. “You taste so good…” he said, blushing as he slurped up all the jizz on his hand.
Thomas grunted, watching Rob eat up cum. Thomas had a sickened look on his face. “That’s unbiblical, sir. You shouldn’t behave like this. God don’t like it.”
But Rob merely shrugged. Then he wiped up all the cum off Thomas’s flat belly, and he sucked all that off his hand as well. He moved slowly just like when he had sucked the precum off his finger, and just like then, Thomas watched as though it turned him on. The intense flavor of salty jizz and dirty manhood overwhelmed Rob’s mind, nearly making him drive off the road as he cleaned the semen off his hand. Thomas grimaced and sneered at him but didn’t make him stop.
“Hope that was worth it, boy,” Thomas said with a nervous chuckle. “Cuz that just might cost you ya immortal soul. I ain’t gonna judge. Ain’t up to me. Reckon you should let Jesus into ya heart.”
“Isn’t it just as sinful for you?”
“What?”
“You got a handjob just like I gave one,” Rob said. “That’s a sin on your part-“
“Don’t work like that. Sin ain’t a mathematical equation,” Thomas said with a whistle.
“So it’s not sinful to receive a handjob from a stranger?”
Thomas shifted his weight in his seat. He tucked his cock away in his tattered boxer shorts, which were plain white and thin — they looked like prison-issued boxers. He kept his shirt off. “It’s a sin to give in to lust, to satisfy one’s urges in a base and villainous way. I let you done that cuz I’s repayin’ ya kindness in givin’ me a ride. I ain’t succumbin’ to no lust. I got resistance in mah heart, you hear? I don’t surrender to the forces of Satan, no sir!”
“Oh…” Rob couldn’t dispute the theology of that, though it sounded like a loose justification. He shrugged. “Fine, whatever.”
There was a long awkward silence, then Thomas lit a cigarette. He sighed. “You got a nice hand, boy. I’m real glad you picked me up.”
“Me too.”