Smashwood Trailer Park

Rob is at it again, this time at the legendary Smashwood Trailer Park for an ultra-raunchy tale of redneck, hick, hobo, thug and hillbilly action! It’s filthy… it’s disgusting… it’s gotta be Smashwood!

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Rob Winthrop strode into Smashwood Trailer Park trying to look confident. This was a rough place, and he wasn’t a tough guy. Rob was wealthy, but he hadn’t let on when setting up today’s event. Hopefully nobody knew he was a billionaire. Everyone in the trailer park stared at him surreptitiously, but no one met his gaze.
Smashwood Trailer Park crawled with men. There were a few women too, but Rob could safely ignore them. They would be irrelevant today. Once things got started, they’d probably find better things to do anyway, Rob assumed. That was how it usually happened. And Smashwood was mainly home to single men, this part of it, anyway — the other side of Smashwood was for women and families.
Here was where the single men lived.
A gravel strewn with glitters of glass ran down the way, with a few dirt offshoots leading to tiny cul-de-sacs. The further from the main gravel road, the more rundown the trailers went, culminating in a suburb of sorts of shacks and shanties and lean-tos and cardboard boxes stacked in little palaces of rain-soaked debris, where muddy, unshaved men with wild eyes lived.
He went to the trailer of Baxter Pence, which was on a dirt road but not at the end of one. His was the last proper trailer on this spoke, as it was followed by a burnt-down husk before the trailers became shacks. He glowered at Rob but he opened the door and let him in. Bax Pence was a grungy hick, ropy-muscled and taut like he was hungry — he always looked hungry — with a heavily tattooed body that was very tan because he worked outside — he held up a stop-sign for a road crew — and rarely put a shirt on. He kept a tight wifebeater with him most of the time so he could put it on if he had to go into a store, but he only did that when he needed to. Around here, most stores didn’t give too much of a crap about the whole no-shirt-no-shoes-no-service thing. Bax was so tan he could pass for black if he wore a doo rag.
“Ah, shit, man… Let’s get this over with,” Bax said. “I got shit to do today.” He didn’t reveal what that “shit” was, but it was pretty obvious to Rob — Bax wanted to smoke meth. Or maybe sell meth, but Rob suspected the only reason he might have sold it was in order to buy it and smoke it for himself as well.
He caressed Bax’s ropy-muscled bicep as Bax cleared away some mud-splattered clothes from a small loveseat. His wiry body plopped down on it, and Rob went right to his chest.
He had an amazing six-pack, though it was obviously not because he was in great shape — it was because he was so skinny, he had that meth-addled physique. He even missed one front tooth, and his other teeth were chipped and yellowed. His body was greasy, unwashed for a long time, reeking of sweat and body hair, even though Bax was not hairy.
Rob pulled Bax’s cock out. He put the tip in his mouth and gurgled merrily on the nasty flavor — it was sour and salty, like unclean meat, like a steak you don’t want to eat. But Rob did want to slurp all that nastiness off. Bax’s muscles rippled beneath Rob’s touch. His tattoos were distorted and distended, like they had been done when he was much bigger than he was now.
A few other guys headed to Bax’s trailer, poking their head in but backing off when they saw Bax’s meth-starved body pounding away. No one wanted to seem too eager, so they didn’t line up, they just pretended there was no particular reason to mill around there, yet they did it anyway. They smoked cigarettes and pretended not to sneak peeks inside.
“Ah, shit, boys, he’s doin’ it!” Bax called out. He had decided there was no point in trying to be surreptitious or discrete about it. It was what it was. They all knew what was going on in here. His lithe body bounced back and forth. He wasn’t sure if he still had a hardon at this point, but his dick was in the freak’s mouth, so he was fulfilling his obligation as he saw it. All Bax cared about was getting enough money to buy his next hit of meth. “He best not stiff us, you won’t stiff us, right?”
“I’ll pay, I’ll pay,” Rob said through his moans.
“Oh yeah, Bax’s doin’ it! Bax’s doin’ it!”
“Shut up, man, don’t be a pansy. You’ll be on top-“
“Aw… fuck, there’s no way I’m doing it. I’m no-” That was the young redneck with the blond shaggy mane that was almost a mullet, Cabel Yoder, who kept blushing and looking away but sticking around with a face like someone had a gun to his head. “Aww, man, shit…” He had a big grin on his face. His pecs rippled beneath his sleeveless shirt every time he laughed.
“You sure?”
“You turnin’ down a nut, dude!?”
“Aww, man…” Cabel was clean-cut for a trailer park, in that he had all his teeth and no track marks. He was from a military and firefighter family, and he had some kinda Army crest tattooed on his back, along with rows of thorny roses. His back was lined with muscles. “Should I do it?” His cheeks burned red. He did like getting blowjobs, and he didn’t mind a blowjob from an ugly woman. This was no different, he thought…
Rob’s eyes were bugging out by the time he started to deep-throat Bax, whose cock got hard in his mouth. It was long but not too thick, making Rob wonder if his cock had gotten skinny when Bax started smoking meth just like the rest of Bax’s body got skinny. It tasted grimy, gritty, slimy with layers of sweat caked on, and Rob slurped all of it off. Before he knew it, that Cabel Yoder’s hardon was in his hand too.
“Aaah…” Bax moaned.
But that wasn’t going to happen. He writhed as his cock throbbed in Rob’s mouth. Bax was glad the meth hadn’t ruined his erections yet.
They were all going to ram Rob, all of the men in this trailer park. They were going to do it dirty, they were going to do it nasty, they were going to do it as one massive, multi-man pile-up, and Rob was going to enjoy every moment of it.
Rob got them to do this by promising two things every slice of trailer trash wanted: money and hot chicks.
Or one hot chick anyway: Jaleena Tight the porn star. She had been looking to do some kind of a redneck gangbang movie — they were hot right now — and she needed the rednecks. Rob, a long-time friend of hers, had agreed to provide them, and he middlemanned in the best way he could think of — only those trailer park trash who were willing to ramrod him now would get to gangbang Jaleena later.
So virtually all of them were going to do it. Most of the trailer park was coming in today, from this side of it at least. A couple of married guys from the other side were probably going to sneak over soon, but presumably without telling the wives. This wasn’t the kind of activity wives needed to know about.
“C’mon in, boys,” Rob called out when he sensed Bax was nearly ready to cum. Bax groaned — he had really wanted this gangbang to be more of a serial thing, not all-at-once. He didn’t need all of these white trash fuckheads cumming in his trailer. But that was already happening, with that Cabel Yoder and his buddy Jacob Billyman jousting in Rob’s open mouth, where Bax was smearing his precum on Rob’s tongue.
Rob reached out and pushed the door open, pulling off Bax’s dick for a few seconds to grab it. He thought Bax must have locked it, that was why no one had come in yet.
But the door popped open easily. That wasn’t why no one had come in.
No one wanted to be the first to start. They milled around and poked their heads in, gasping but trying to seem nonplussed when they saw Rob slathering spit up and down the local methhead’s shaft. It throbbed against his tongue, and Rob stroked it with both hands.
“Ah, shit-“
“Nasty-“
It was Cooter — Jethro Wilde — who came in first. He was older than most of the men in the trailer park, and he didn’t see any reason to dilly-dally. That was for young pups. He wasn’t going to be self-conscious, and he’d rather go now than wait for the nasty stranger to be all cum-coated and nasty.
“This the sissy who wanna get gangbanged?” Cooter said with a sneer. He licked his lips.
“Uh-huh, hang on, I’m gonna cum in a sec-“
“Nah,” Cooter said. He had a big hairy barrel chest, with curls of salt and pepper hair extended around the fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He was here laying asphalt this summer, and he had a burly body that was streaked with sweat and a few clumps of gray in his chest hair. There was even some cement that had gotten fixed to his broad shoulders. His sun-wizened face crackled with the layer of fine cement dust that clung to his skin and which flaked off when he moved. His callused fingers gripping Rob’s face to hold it in place.
Cooter dropped his jeans and slapped his dick on Rob’s face. Rob sucked on it too, leaving Bax’s precum-coated shaft to focus on Cooter, who had a nice thick dick, a big ugly knobbly prick that tasted like the sweat that made his chest hair cling to his body.
It was sour and salty and it got hard right away — Cooter didn’t drink or smoke meth, so he got hard easily. Bax was embarrassed by that, in his mind, it was very obvious that Cooter got hard more quickly than Bax did, and everyone who had even slightly glanced in the trailer must have noticed. He didn’t realize that no one was paying that much attention to him.
So he overcompensated by pushing Cooter aside. He meant to push on his thighs — because Cooter stood by the couch Bax still sat on — but he ended up touching his ass. “Get off, man, wait your turn-“
“I’m tryin’-a get off, and don’t touch my ass.”
“No, I mean, lay off him until I’m done, I ain’t cum yet-“
“You don’t know how this works, boy! Ain’t no ‘layin’-off’ until you done, that is the exact opposite of how this works,” Cooter said with a laugh. “Come on in, boys, the water’s just fine! He sucks a treat!” Cooter whooped. A few guys poked their heads in more openly, but no one actually came on in as Cooter had demanded. It was cramped in there, for one thing, and it was impossible to get in without touching Cooter’s hairy body and ass or the masturbating duo of Yoder and Jacob.
“Can you boys double-team my mouth?” Rob asked. He took both dicks in hand, pushed them onto his tongue and suckled moistly, letting Bax’s precum run down Cooter’s shaft. Rob loved mixing fluids from multiple alphas, and the part he liked best was that they acted like it was a betrayal. They both twitched and sneered their faces at each other, as they dicks smashed knobs together in Rob’s mouth.
“Hell yeah-“
“Oh… yeah…”
Actually neither of them were especially keen on jousting. But no one wanted to be the only one to back out either.
“Only pussies get scared of jousting,” Cooter said, eyeing Bax and rather hoping he would complain — Cooter was older and tougher (he thought) than most of the guys here, so he really wanted to demonstrate that today. “You ever done that before, Bax?”
Bax scoffed as though the answer should have been obvious. “Of course, man,” he lied. He gasped then as a pearly drop of precum slipped out of Cooter’s dick and onto his cock. Ah, shit, there’s another man’s cum on me, shit, shit, shit, they gonna think I can’t defend myself…
He was so entranced by that anxiety that he didn’t quite know what to make of the orgasm that hit him hard. His eyes opened wide. His dick was rubbing against Cooter’s older, thicker shaft as he gasped and writhed, pleasure rocketing up his spine. That pleasure came more from the friction of rubbing against Cooter’s shaft than from Rob’s mouth. Bax nervously bit his lip, subduing a howl as his ropy-muscled body twisted on the couch.
Cum sprayed down Rob’s throat, and he guzzled every salty, creamy drop. Another man had come into the trailer now, a scuzzy older man, not quite as old as Cooter, but with a more weathered face and a beard like a hobo. He was in there just in time to see Bax cum and watch all that semen run down Cooter’s shaft.
Cooter came too, soon after that, while the young men Yoder and Jacob needed only a few seconds on Rob’s mouth to add their loads to the mess clinging to Rob’s face. They were glad to get out of there early, before things got too gross.
Despite the sheen of white goob on Rob’s face, that out-of-town stranger with the wild beard came in next. The hobo-beard man— who wasn’t quite homeless — he told everyone he met he was “no homeless bastard” — ignored the stink of jizz in the room and didn’t even seem ot notice Cooter’s jizz spurting onto his leg as he came in. Cooter’s orgasm was loud and animated, sweaty, like a hyperactive coyote.
That bearded near-hobo didn’t realize that no one had rammed Rob in the ass yet (today). He was oblivious enough to not really notice or care that Rob was still sucking the cum off Cooter’s cock and that his ass wasn’t even bare yet.
“Lemme in that ass, bitch…” hissed the near-hobo who didn’t know anybody else here. His name was Ramblin’ Joe — t’was what the whole world always done did call him — and he knew damn well how to ram a goledarned sissy. They want it hot and hard and relentless. He had a jutting square jaw, a crooked nose and two cauliflowery ears, looking like a prize fighter despite his small size.
It was kind of nice, he thought, ripping Rob’s pants down and lifting him up, no need to be nice or gentle, all you had to do was ram. He aimed Rob’s face towards the door to the trailer, dragging him to the floor and jamming his dick in that tight ass even before it was fully hard. It went right on, sending a wave of pleasure up Rob’s spine.
It had been a long time since he had done wreck a booty, so that near-hobo, Ramblin’ Joe, whom no one knew was hard at just the thought of it. He was glad to see the other guys were cleaning up after themselves, since Rob’s ass wasn’t covered in cum already — not that that would have slowed him down.
The near-hobo gripped Rob tight, feeding his dick in, letting out a grunt when he was finally hard. Rob felt a tight pressure and a pinch. He reached behind himself to guide the near-hobo’s dick in, but the layers of dirty pants and overshirts were in the way — he had only lowered his pants, not actually taken them off or even all the way down.
But it seemed he didn’t need to do much anyway. Rob was on the floor and the near-hobo pounded away at his ass, hard and relentless. Rob reached for the cocks in front of him — he was angled towards the trailer door, where two guys stood there with their dicks out — Buck Sampson and Cody Lankford. Laughing with each other and ignoring Rob they took turns slapping Rob’s face with their cocks, letting him lick both shafts, though they hadn’t gotten hard yet.
“Ah, this sissy is naa-aasty!” Cody peered like an explorer at the sissy’s face, but he didn’t touch it. He watched with wide eyes as Ramblin’ Joe’s balls went thwack-thwack on the sissy’s chin, and Cody giggled like a girl when a drop of spit his cheek. He backed off. He was little, just a spit over five feet tall, powerfully built for his size but still scrawny, with a raggedy shock of mud-blond hair. He was bright-eyed, green as jade, with light skin and a youthful face, looking younger than his big-ass buddy Buck, though they were the same age.
“They’s all like that, man, I swear, they’s all into that kinky shit…” Buck Sampson shook his head. His mighty thirteen inch cock flip-flopped between his callused mitts. He was a roughneck like some of the others, home from the oil rig to spend his money on his woman, which in fact was where she was today, shopping like a mother hen, leaving him free to wreck this sissy in whichever hole was free when Buck got into the trailer. Buck was damn near seven foot tall, built like a stevedore, which was not a word with which Buck ever done made acquaintance with, and he had a deep huffy-puffy voice. “He prolly narsty, Cody…”
“Lemme in that bitch’s mouth, I’m gonna get a little neck, shite…”
Finally someone else was ready to get in his throat. Rob didn’t even look up in time to see his face — it was a biker who went by Greaser — so he could do little more than open wide and let his mouth fill. He had a little rattail of hair, skinny as a sumbitch, walking leaning back a little all the time, ready whenever the moment struck him with a comb and some grease to slick back his hair. That was how he got the name. He had a fat dick, which joined Buck’s and Cody’s and whoever else’s that Rob jerked off in turn.
As he swallowed Greaser’s erect cock, Rob tried to get up on all fours, but the near-hobo behind him was shooting his nut up Rob’s guts, so when Rob moved, he smacked him. “Stay still, bitch, lemme in there-“
“Yo, dawgie, lemme in there too,” said some black guy, a big shaved-head man with big ditch-digger’s arms. He pushed past the others, his erect cock rubbing against their asscheeks and thighs — which he did deliberately so everyone would see how big his cock was — as he pushed into the trailer. He grimaced a little at the sight of that cum-filled hole, but he didn’t wait. It wasn’t gangsta to wait to your turn.
The black guy — Deff Jasper — loved to gangbang sluts. He and his niggas Tyrell, Killer and all them, Slim Jay, Thumper, they all got a bitch to give up her booty and all on at lesat a monthly basis. Deff be gangbanging.
But Done never ramrodded a man like this. Thumper spent thirty-four years in prison, so you know he done wreck a honky booty now and then. Slim Jay was a straight up pimp, off the clock right now though, cuz there ain’t no point in bringing hos to Smashwood Trailer Park, cuz don’t nobody got money there. He do come by to stick it in a cummy asshole. Slim Jay always say a nigga has gotta stick his dick in something nasty now and then. That’s what means it to keep it real. Slim Jay ain’t wear his pimping suit today though. He got standards. Tyrell Brickley did likewise dress down, cuz he was a clean-cut kinda nigga with the ugly dick like a caveman. He got his meat in there using all them other niggas’s nuts as lube, and Tyrell busted a nut quick cuz a nigga like him got shit to do.
Oodles of cum gushed down Rob’s thighs, and his asshole gurgled up the cumwad still in there. Deff wondered how many men had already gotten in there as he plowed in, grimacing at the feel of cum spilling out and around him. That was Tyrell’s and Slim Jay’s and all them.
It spilled over his dark skin and into his pubic hair, making a big frothy mess. “Woo-hoo, shit yeah! Sloppy seconds, baby!” His eyes opened wide when his entire cock slipped into Rob’s ass without a moment’s hesitation — no girl had ever done that. His whole ten-inch shaft got sucked right in. He wondered if Rob was that slutty or if it was just part of sloppy seconds, if cum was really just a great lubricant.
The smell of cum grew overpowering in the trailer. Deff both laughed and wrinkled his nose. It ain’t never smell this bad when he gangbanged a female. But this white-ass punk smelled like a hundred hobos’s cumloads, and there might well have be that many on his face as far as Deff knew.
“Damn, boy, take that shit!” Deff smacked Rob’s ass and then instantly regretted it because he felt someone else’s cum on his fingers. It was hot and goopy, and it made his stomach churn.
There were more men in the trailer now, and someone’s erect cock rubbed against Deff’s ass. He tried to blow it off. It wasn’t a big deal — he had done the same thing, after all, just a few minutes ago. It was attention-grabbing though, the feel of another man’s cock right next to his asshole. What if someone attempted at him? Deff would have to throw down.
His anxiety didn’t stop him from filling Rob’s ass with creamy seed. He hooted and hit Rob in the side, just hard enough to make him squirm and clench around Deff’s cock. Deff sighed and pulled out.
“Make it leak out, bitch, I wanna see it gape and get frothy, shit!” Deff wanted to watch his cum spill out of Rob’s asshole, but before he could, another trailer trash — Ransom Wargrave — was already flopping his dick over Rob’s ass.
Wargrave was hard and ready to go. This was gonna be humiliating and disgusting but worth it if he got to fuck Jaleena Busty. Just picturing her and her enormous tits was enough to make Wargrave horny. He loved porn.
He was in his late twenties, wearing a football jersey because he had been a star player in high school, and he hadn’t yet grokked that he looked like a loser still wearing it all the time. He was skinny for a football player, like he was stuck in the thirties before they learned about protein powder and creatine. Wargrave slid his dick into Rob’s ass, surprised at how easy it was — he thought he’d have trouble staying hard with so many dicks everywhere (he’d accidentally touched ten or eleven on his way in here).
Cum poured out and added to the puddle on the trailer floor. Wargrave was ginger at first when he saw that, but somehow the disgust only made his erection throb harder, and he slammed his dick in. He chuckled at the sight of droplets of cum spraying out and around.
Rob focused on slurping on Wargrave’s dick. That was his usual plan in these sorts of gangbangs. He just wanted to get as much dick as he could, but his mouth was the part that needed the most active attention. The trailer trash could just keep plowing his ass, he needed only to let them go to town on him.
But servicing cock actually required his attention, at least the way he usually did it. The more this whole experience continued, however, the more Rob could just lay there — on his back eventually because that was easier — while he was plowed into on both his ass and his mouth. He got them all: muscular studs like Julian Bondarinko and his buddies Hyler and Specs, black guys — like this local musclebound rapper Killer and his multiracial posse Lamar, Mikey, Mane, Hansen and J-Moc — this tubby fatso named Piggie whose belly stank like cheap cheese, a stringy-haired beggar named Tommy Weathers, a trucker named Manky who was just passing through, crackheads with names like Belmont and Spider and Nugget, all of them came to make Rob as nasty as could be. As predicted, at least one married man from the other side of the park, Jerry Maple, did come over and get a nut off real quick, before his wife noticed he was gone.
“Gonna make ya dirty-“
“Ah, boys, that is some nasty shit, lookit his ass, it’s all… gross…”
He lay on his back with his head dangling over the edge of the top-step leading out of the trailer. That angle made it easier for scumbag after scumbag to throat him down, until his mouth was coated with gobs of precum, semen and puddles of his own spit.
His throat was sore, but this was the part that Rob loved most. He could keep his mouth open as though his jaw was slack, and they just kept plowing in. Every time one person finished spewing jizz down his gullet, another one took his place. Once he got into the swing of things, Rob could — and gladly would — deepthroat any cock, no matter how big. In fact a couple of them had noticeably tiny dicks, like that Mikey Thimble, but even that contributed to the nasty mess all over Rob’s face, and he appreciated the lack of self-consciousness these men had about that.
How many loads was this? Rob had lost count. He was pretty sure he had at least thirty on his face now. He tasted cum everywhere. He couldn’t even tell which loads were on his face and which had been shot right down his throat.
“Make him cummy! Make him cummy!”
“His face is so nasty, got like a million babies on his face-“
“Ew, don’t say it like that, man-“
“It’s more than a million anyway. That is so gross. It looks like snot and shit!”
The last guy on his face was a young man who had very nearly refused to participate in this. He was Chris Hazel, and he was only nineteen, barely out of high school. He didn’t want to do anything gross, so he had opted out. He didn’t want to gangbang a female porn star either. He had cute-boy dimples but white-trash hair, and his furry chest was meaty and well-fed like he didn’t come from here. He did come from Smashwood, he just looked well-fed for a trailer park.
But when the others started teasing him about it, asking if he was unable to get hard, he felt compelled to do it. He stuck his hard dick in Rob’s mouth and closed his eyes, trying not to feel the clumps of cum that stuck to his thighs and his pubic hair.
Rob’s face had been virtually bukkaked — most of the men had shot in his throat, so it wasn’t real bukkake, it was more spit and precum and spat-up cum — and Chris was shocked to feel that sticky seed all over his balls and his shaft.
The guys in Rob’s ass were the raunchier ones — it took a special kind of guy to gangbang a male stranger. It was the ragged, long-haired Logan Barnaby who was last to go in there.
“‘Course Logan’s doin’ it…”
“He’ll stick it in anything!”
He had climbed in the window to get in that ass. Logan would gladly fuck any woman in the ass — he was known for that in the park, he had no shame about plowing morbidly obese women, elderly women, toothless drug whores, any woman who would willingly give up the ass, he fucked them.
He done stuck more than a few men in the ass too, but he was at least discrete about that. Usually. He was in a hard rock band, and he had a hard-living kind of face, he looked like the kind of man who lived in his car, which he in fact did — it was parked at the end of a dirt road at the far end of Smashwood. His work-hard jowls and broad shoulders were sore, his hairy greasy and unkempt, his cock uncut and fat as the beer bottles he was constantly drinking from.
Going last was not bad at all, he thought. It was like swimming in spooge. He wasn’t even sure he could feel the walls of Rob’s guts. It was all cum, like dipping his dick in a sauce made of raunch. His long stringy hair rocked back and forth and covered his face as he watched that young pup Chris spray one last load all over Rob’s face.
“Ah, damn, bitch…” he said with a sigh as his own orgasm rocked his body. It was intense, prideful — he felt like he had conquered a weaker man.
He added his own cum to the soupy mess that was Rob’s ass. Rob was still on his back, legs in the air, so as he finally experienced the last throes of his potent prostate orgasm, Rob’s toes gripped Logan’s hairy shoulder-muscles.
Logan didn’t mind. He stayed right there, dipping his dick in that cummy soup as it limpened in Rob’s ass. He cocked his head to the side, marveling at the intense pleasure his cock could bring someone like Rob. Rob squirmed and squealed, making the jizz that coated his face and body stream down onto the floor of Bax’s trailer.
“Well, fuck, bitch, you are nasty!” Logan said, in a tone that suggested he did not see that as an insult.
“I know,” Rob said, giggling. “But thanks for pointing it out.” He sighed and began licking up all the cum he could get to from his face, chest and ass. It tasted like spit and armpit sweat and other flavors he couldn’t quite identify. He was so focused on that he ignored the men laughing at him — and at Bax, whose trailer was positively soaked in cum.
“Ah… it’s nasty in here,” Bax said. He hadn’t predicted this would all happen in his trailer. He had put a sheet down on the couch, but of course, that hadn’t been enough. He’d assumed the action would move out into the trailer park proper.
“Yeah, it’s pretty nasty,” Rob said, rubbing his sore ass. He giggled and blushed. “Just the way I like it.” He put his clothes back out, and groped all the men he could reach as he headed for the trailer park’s entrance. “I’ll send Jaleena over tomorrow. I’ll be your fluffer too.”
Once they were away from Bax’s trailer, most of them got excited about tomorrow’s gangbang, and they began to brag about who would fuck her best, first and in the most interesting ways. Rob couldn’t wait for that too. He knew he wouldn’t get as much cum tomorrow, but it would be fun in its own way.
Plus he already had a lead on a construction crew who was willing to cornhole the everlasting fuck out of him next week.

The Pickup Truck

When Avery has car trouble, he hitches a ride with a pair of rednecks with a pickup truck. They’re eager to get a nut off, a problem Avery is eager to help with, cuz Avery loves nothing more than submitting to alpha male hillbilly manhood.

Can Avery get his truck fixed and satisfy his newfound redneck buddies?

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Or read the whole thing here!

Avery sighed as his car rattled to a stop on the side of the road. He had just gotten the starter replaced, and now something else was wrong with it. He cursed and kicked at the car when he got out. He opened the hood as though there was some chance he could fix it.
But he didn’t know anything about cars. Unless there was a sign in the hood describing what was wrong and how to fix it, he wouldn’t have known what to do. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign. Even if there was a sign, he’d probably need help.
The engine looked normal. It was hot and dirty and greasy, and it looked just like it always did. He checked the oil because that was one of the few things he knew how to do. The oil level was fine. Well, I successfully ruled out oil, he thought, at least that’s something.
He sighed and started walking. There was no point in hanging out here, in the middle of nowhere, Bumfuck, West Virginia. He could have called AAA, but his cell phone only had a little charge left. He turned it off in case he needed it later. He knew there was a garage up the road, so he thought it would end up being quicker to walk there and arrange a repair job.
As he crested the next hill, he muttered about his car. His Kia was notoriously crappy, he had learned after owning it for a few months. This was only the latest in a series of setbacks for the car. He should have done more research before he picked it out, he thought. That must be why it was so cheap.
He was startled out of his reverie by the sight of a man on the side of the road up ahead. He was a hundred feet or so away from where Avery was overtop the hill, and he faced backwards with a thumb out. When he saw Avery, he waved.
“Howdy, brotha!” he called out.
Avery waved back. The man was shirtless, a lean and lanky redneck in a red backwards baseball cap and muddy camo pants. He was a hillbilly, Avery thought and shivered as a frisson of desire ran up his spine. Avery appreciated the male form, and this ropy-muscled young man was an ideal example.
“Howdy, friend,” said the young man when Avery got closer. He accentuated the word friend as though he called everyone his friend but really meant it this time. He had a charming, dimpled smile.
Avery giggled and said hello. “Nice to meet you,” Avery said.
The man had a Confederate flag belt buckle, and tattoos dotted his bare torso. “You hitchin’?” the man asked. He spat on the ground.
Avery shook his head. “My car broke down right over the hill. I was just going to the garage down the street.”
“Old Ray’s? That place shut down. Ol’ Ray was a fat fuck anyway. He dead now,” said the hillbilly. “Name’s Cody.”
“Nice to meetcha, Cody,” Avery said. “I’m Avery.”
He nodded. “Mah buddy is on his way to come get me. He’ll give you a ride too, reckon.”
“Thanks.”
“Gonna have to ride in the back though. In the bed of his pickup, I mean. Ain’t got room in the cab for three.”
“Okay,” Avery said.
“There he is now. His name Buck,” said Cody. His tongue rolled around in his mouth as though it was too big for him, as he sized Avery up, looking him from head to toe.
They had only gone a little ways when a beat-up red truck came from behind and pulled to a stop on the side of the road.
A beefier hillbilly stuck his head out the window. He was tall enough that he was squashed into the truck cab, and he had a furiously untamed mullet that framed his oversized head. “Need a ride, li’l hoss? You know the rule: cash, grass or ass,” Buck called out and hooted out a series of baritone laughs.
Then he saw Avery, and his eyes turned dark and hostile.
“Hey this man here had a breakdown up the road. He goin’ to Old Ray’s,” Cody said.
“Old Ray dead.”
“I told him that,” Cody said.
“Hop in, li’l hoss,” said Buck. “You got that Kia on the road a f’ur piece back?” He had a grizzled chin, with a lazy look on his face. He was much thicker than Cody and hairier. He also made Avery feel a flush of hormones and a stiffening in his cock, and Avery wondered if he could nab both of these hunky rednecks.
“Yeah, that was me,” Avery said as he got in the back. “The car just died on me.”
“Kias’ll do that. Buy ‘merican next time.”
There were blankets and pads all over the back of the rickety old pickup truck. It looked like Buck had recently helped someone move. The truck pulled away, and Avery crawled to the passenger side, where he could hear through and speak into the little window that opened into the truck cab. Cody’s arm was out the window, its reddish hue ruddening in the brilliant Alabama sun. Avery’s heart pounded as he gathered up the courage to make a proposition.
“Hey, so are you down?” Avery asked, raising his voice so Cody could hear in the truck cab. The wind was loud enough — not to mention the rackety engine — that Avery didn’t think Buck would hear. That was necessary because Cody was gonna offer to jerk him off, and he assumed Cody would want to go somewhere private, not let his buddy know that Cody was messing around on the downlow.
Cody hesitated. “Yeah. Down for what? You got pills?”
“No! I’ll jerk you off, that’s all. If you-“
“You take it in the ass too?”
“Hell yeah,” Avery said. “If you got somewhere private to go.”
Cody told his buddy to stop, then said something quiet enough that Avery didn’t hear. Buck laughed a deep belly laugh. His voice boomed audibly out the driver’s side window. “That boy?”
The truck shivered to a stop
Avery shivered in anticipation. Now that he heard that laugh, he was sure Buck would join in, he thought, if he could get him out from behind the wheel. But before he came up with a plan, Cody hopped into the bed of the truck.
“Ain’t never rammed no feller,” Cody said. He smiled, then blushed as the truck pulled into gear and returned to the road. He almost fell over — Buck laughed again as though he had been trying to knock Cody off-balance — then sat down next to Avery.
As soon as the truck lurched back into motion on the road again, Avery grabbed for Cody’s dick through his camo pants and stroked it. They had turned onto a rural road, so there were no cars around, but even if one came by, this truck had a very low bed with a high wall, so there was plenty of room to avoid being seen. Once Avery’s head was in Cody’s lap, only Cody’s head could be seen from outside the truck.
“Oh fuck, you that kind of freak? Daaaang…” Cody whistled. He played himself off as nonchalant, but Avery could tell he was more nervous than he let on.
Avery inhaled deeply of his musky scent, then pulled down Cody’s pants. His dick popped out of his tattered old boxers. It was long and thick, already getting hard just from Avery handling it through the fabric. Cody was young and horny, that was why, Avery thought, he must get hard so easy.
After just a few strokes, Avery lowered his head so he could swallow Cody’s cock all the way down to the root, nestling his nose deep in Cody’s pubic hair. Cody chuckled, then gasped as though he never thought it would feel this good. His eyes opened wide.
“He doin’ it furreal, yeah!” Cody yelled out to his buddy, Buck, who hooted and reached to the top of the truck, his meaty fist slamming down on the roof. He might have yelled something back, but Avery couldn’t hear it.
His dick zoomed to attention, and it throbbed in Avery’s mouth. It smelled of redneck sweat, which Avery loved, and he slurped down every drop he could get to. Cody tasted of dirt and distilled manhood, and the flavor made Avery want to cum as soon as he got a mouthful of Cody’s cock. He could taste the boisterous four-wheeling and the early morning hunting trips, wild ramps, barbecue sauce and chewing tobacco, he could even taste the unbridled patriotism.
“I love an enthusiastic mouth,” Cody said with a relaxed sigh. It sounded like he had been nervous about getting dome from a man but now was settling into it. He leaned back, resting his shoulders on the wall of the truck bed. “You better at this than most women even, you know that? You should teach lessons and-” Cody stopped talking as the truck taking a sharp turn caused him to slip all the way to the other edge of the truck bed. Avery had to crawl back over to him. The truck swerved all over the road, so Cody and Avery slid on the pads and blankets covering the bed. Cody’s cock bobbed around, and Avery chased after it.
That was fun at first, but it soon became apparent Buck was swerving the truck left and right as a prank — his baritone laughter could be heard emanating from the truck cab — and watching Cody’s naked body sliding around while Avery tried to get ahold of him.
“C’mon!” Avery called out, his voice wavering because he didn’t want to upset the giant redneck behind the wheel and because he was starting to get motion-sick from the motion.
Cody called out to his buddy, “Hey, quit swervin’, asshole!”
“Can’t you control yaself?” Buck shouted from the driver’s seat. He guffawed like a jackal.
Avery settled into the messy pickup bed the best he could with the truck sliding left and right beneath him. Underneath the pads and wadded up sheets was bright orange parkas and other gear — hunting equipment. He grabbed ahold of that stuff to keep under him, to avoid jostling too much as the truck barrelled and rattled down the road.
It didn’t seem that Buck was making any effort to keep the truck steady. He cackled with laughter every time Cody slid into the side of the truck and groaned. Buck opened the window between the cab and the bed, then he said, “Hey sissy! If you havin’ trouble findin’ it, just look for the pimple. Ain’t a pimple. Doctor says it’s a cock, just a li’l bitty withered one-“
“Shut up, Buck. Nobody gives a shit — we all know you got the biggest dick around. Nobody cares, it’s ugly, and girls don’t even like it cuz it’s too big. You got the ugliest dingdong in the world.”
“Shuddup, Cody, girls do so like my dick,” Buck said. He sounded chagrined though, like women really had said his dick was too big or too ugly or both.
That would not be a problem for Avery. He loved a big cock, and he had never seen an ugly one.
“Gonna fill you up, boy!” Cody cackled. He scooted over to block the window between the cab and the bed — that was also the center, the most stable part of the bed of the truck. He gripped Avery’s ears and held onto his head as he aimed his dick for Avery’s mouth.
Once again the wild flavor of stale hillbilly crotch-sweat filled Avery’s senses, and he swallowed as much as he could. Cody was even more into it this time, and he had no reluctance in holding Avery by the head so he could use his mouth like a pussy. He humped his dick down Avery’s throat, ignoring it each time Avery gagged.
He opened his gullet wide to let that entire cockshaft in. Avery loved how Cody visibly lost control of his muscles even though he hadn’t orgasmed yet, and his muscles rippled. Cody sucked in his breath. “Damn…” he murmured.
Precum began to flow from Cody’s cock, and Avery slurped it down like a delicacy. Cody’s whole body shook, both from the pickup truck moving beneath him and from the pleasure that exploded in his veins. His arms and legs went limp like a rag doll as Avery swallowed his dick down to the root.
“Who? That bitch?” Cody said. At first Avery thought he was talking to him and he looked up, confused, then realized Cody was talking to Buck through the window separating the cab and the bed of the truck. Avery couldn’t hear Buck’s part of the conversation. “Yeah, he’s hella better than her. She only sucked dick good in ya ‘magination, and she looked like an overinflated clown — she was not hot, you are so wrong, that was ya ‘fuckin’ oinkers’ phase — don’t gimme that ‘I need fat chicks for mah big dick shit’ — oh hell, you hafta bring up ya cock e’ery goddamn time — I don’t believe you fo’ a second about that, no women is that into big dicks — it is so ugly! It looks like a dead barbarian! — shut up, anyway, I’m gettin’ head. I don’t wanna talk to you.”
There was a commotion, and Avery looked up from Cody’s precum-oozing cocktip. Buck kept the truck rolling forward slowly, jerking every few seconds because Buck was riding the brake. He poked his burly, furry head through the window between the cab and the bed, guffawing so hard he slapped his knees as he plastered a sloppy kiss on Cody’s cheek. Cody screamed and pushed him away — he had closed his eyes, so he didn’t see until it was too late.
“You fuckin’ prick, you ruined my boner!” Cody said, trying to punch Buck through the window. He couldn’t quite reach though. Avery just kept swallowing his meat — in fact Buck’s kiss hadn’t weakened Cody’s erection in the slightest.
“Okay, ya mouth is nice, sissy, but I want some ass. A real man needs ass,” Cody said with a sigh. He pulled out of Avery’s mouth and wiped his dick off on Avery’s cheek. “Girls never wanna take it in the ass. But you do, right?”
“Hell yeah,” Avery said. He took a deep breath.
“You gonna take the whole thang?!” Cody asked, and Avery nodded as he gathered his breath. Cody arranged himself behind Avery — a difficult feat as the truck continued down the road. He pushed into Avery’s ass, his thick cock sending a twinge of pain up Avery’s back. He remained sitting, so Avery was in control, pushing back onto Cody’s crotch, as they got into something approaching a reverse-cowgirl position, or at least as close as they could come in a moving truck bed.
The truck pulled to a sudden stop, and Avery slid across the bed. He and Cody both bumped into the edge of the truck, this time with enough of a bang that Cody cried out in pain. The motion forced Cody’s whole cock all the way into Avery’s ass, more dick and more quickly than Avery was expecting. A howl of surprise and pain came from Avery’s mouth, and the sound quickly turned into a moan of pleasure as Cody’s cock stimulated his prostate.
Buck’s booming laugh echoed in the woods surrounding the road. He got out of the driver’s seat, then jumped into the bed — he was surprisingly limber for a big man. His damn near seven-foot-tall frame effortlessly hefted his bigness up into the truck bed. He stripped his shirt off as he moved, revealing a furry barrel chest and several tattoos: a broken heart with four drops of blood around it, a gray coiled snake on his belly, the Grateful Dead bears on his shoulder and an American flag on the side of his neck.
“Go drive for a minute, Cody,” Buck said. He frowned down at Avery’s ass, in which Cody had his cock sliding back and forth. “I ain’t know he was givin’ up the ass — all you said was dome. You best believe I’s takin’ mah turn, and it won’t be sloppy seconds from my little buddy.”
“Man-“
Since Avery was facing away, he didn’t see exactly what Buck did. But apparently it intimidated Cody enough that he gave in, and he pushed Avery off his cock. Cody hopped off the bed with his pants around his ankles, landing on the ground on his belly. He groaned in pain.
“Fuck you, Buck! He was mine! I’m the one who found him!”
“I’s bigguh,” Buck said with a shrug. He dropped his pants. He had a huge cock, as thick as a forearm, and his entire body was hairy. He was well more than a foot taller than his buddy and at least a hundred pounds heavier. He had a thick, crude face, like a caveman, like every part of his head was too big for all the other parts.
“Hi, I’m Avery-“
He didn’t even look Avery in the eye. He just grabbed him by the hair, pulled him into position for doggystyle and rammed his cock in. A burst of pain wracked Avery’s body, and he clawed at the truck bed. That pain quickly melted into an oozing pleasure, as Buck’s reawakened Avery’s sensitive prostate.
“Don’t talk,” Buck said in his gravelly baritone. “Reminds me you ain’t a chick.”
“Okay. I won’t,” Avery gasped.
“I said don’t talk,” he said. He worked his dick in deeper, holding Avery still with both hands when he squirmed in pain and tension. Avery desperately wanted to jack himself off, but he couldn’t reach his cock with his face jammed in the corner. Buck called out to his buddy, as he got in the driver’s seat. “Gonna ruin this hole for ya, lil bro.”
“Fuck you. Get down, man, someone’s gonna see you.”
Buck, it seemed, was not concerned with being seen. He stayed well atop the truck bed, so it was obvious what he was doing. Anybody going by would have seen that he could only be plowing his cock back and forth, so they’d assume he was fucking a woman, probably. This was a deserted country road though, and no cars passed by., Avery was still pretty low, so anyone driving by could see only Buck’s hairy bare ass dimpling and bouncing up and down.
“There’s only one way I know how to ram a man. Hope that’s what you is into. I only ram ‘em one way: hard and rough, just like I ram my prison bitch. You-“
“Ha! Don’t let him scare you!” Cody called out, as he was climbing into the driver’s seat. “He was in jail for two weeks. It was local county lockup. The only other person there was a ninety year old man.”
“Shut up, Cody!” Buck roared. He reached through the little window between the bed and the cab, and he tussled with Cody, who was navigating the truck back into motion on the road. When he got Cody’s nape in one hand, Cody squealed. The truck swerved, pushing Avery deeper into the corner of the truck. “That ain’t true anyway.”
Buck grabbed Avery by the hair with his other hand and pushed his head through that window between the cab and the bed. Avery moaned in ecstasy — he could finally reach his own dick, which was on the verge of ejaculating already — as his head appeared right next to Cody’s. He was so close he could smell the sweat of Cody’s unwashed armpit.
“Oh, man, get his face outta here…” Cody murmured, seemingly resigned to his buddy ignoring him. “I don’t wanna watch a man as you sodomize, Buck.”
“Yeah but fuck you,” Buck boomed. He banged on the top of the truck cab. “Hey, sissy, kiss him. He won’t hitcha or nothin’. Just kiss him. Use tongue.”
Avery placed his head in the crook of Cody’s neck. He kissed the best he could as he himself was orgasming, spraying cum all over the bed of the truck. Buck, it seemed, didn’t notice. A fat puddle of jizz spread over the bed, while Avery stuck his tongue out and slurped up the dried sweat on Cody’s skin. He tasted the dried salt crystals on the nape of Cody’s neck, as a wave of pleasure washed over him.
Cody swerved all over the road. It would have been terrifying but he was only going about five miles per hour, and there was no one else anywhere to be seen — they weren’t even on a paved road anymore, it was gravel. It was a two-lane road technically, but it was barely wide enough for the truck.
“Oh, man, get the sissy off me,” Cody said. He leaned over a bit but didn’t seriously stop Avery, who craned his neck to reach the corner of Cody’s mouth. He tried kiss Cody on the mouth, but when Cody both resisted and showed off the hardon that never went away, Avery lowered his head to swallow his meat once more instead.
Now that Avery wasn’t trying to stroke himself off, he could lean even farther through the window. He could easily get his upper half in, which was enough to put his head in Cody’s crotch. He tasted the familiar funk of Cody’s goopy erection, and Avery moaned around the shaft in his mouth.
Cody’s ass-stained cock was still half-hard. Avery picked it up and put it in his mouth before Cody even realized what was happening.
“Oh yeah, he doin’ that ass-to-mouth sheeit,” Cody said. “He swallowin’ up mah dick, sheeit!”
Buck banged on the roof again. His voice was so deep it sent a chill up Avery’s spine just as the truck went over a rough spot and jostled, which in turn caused a spasm of pain from Buck’s rod ramming into Avery’s ass. Buck laughed. “That hurt, man? Hit some more bumps there, bro.”
Cody pulled to a stop as he approached orgasm. His dick pulsated in Avery’s ass, and both rednecks moaned at once.
That was when Avery realized they were going to cum simultaneously. But he actually tasted Cody first, his youthfully spicy cum spraying into Avery’s mouth a half-second before Buck went off. Avery liked making a mess, so he didn’t swallow any of the jizz, he just held it in his mouth then let it dribble out to soak into Cody’s pubic hair and the torn upholstery of the seat. He wondered how many other nuts had been spewed in this truck.
Then a load of cum sprayed into Avery’s ass. Buck roared and pounded on the roof of the cab, then said, “Like this, bro?” He pulled his cock out at the last second and aimed into into the cab. He had to aim very precisely to get it through the window and onto his buddy’s face, and he didn’t succeed, most of it landing on Avery’s bare ass, the rest on the window frame.
Cody was gasping for air after his own orgasm so he didn’t notice right away. Then he screamed, “Oh what the fuck man?!”
“Just gettin’ you back, man, you pulled that sheeit last munf-” Buck said.
“You done got me back! You beat me up fo’ that!”
“Yeah, so? We were even, and now I’s ahead by one, which is right as sunshine, cuz I’m bigguh and stronguh and I got a bigguh cock,” Buck said. He whacked his softening meat against Avery’s asscheek.
Avery licked the cum off Cody’s cheek. Cody shuddered in disgust, then called out to Buck — who was still above the cab and couldn’t see in — “You missed me anyway. A couple drops got on my pants, that’s it.”
“Yeah right.”
“Fuck you anyway,” Buck said. He took his pants all the way off and sat on the edge of the truck bed. Avery pulled out of the window and kneeled next to him, so his head was between those trunk-like thighs. He licked the cum and assjuice off Buck’s massive dangling meat. Buck chuckled in disgust. He lit a cigarette.
“You’re a dickhead, Buck.”
“Shut up and drive home, Cody.”
“Home?”
“Yeah. I’ll get my tools. Least I can do is fix the man’s car,” Buck said. “And when I’m done, he’ll take some more cock.”

The White Trash

Avery’s surprise encounter with the white trash hunk Calloway leads to a bout of intense rough trade, as he gets to swing on the trashiest redneck this side o’ the holler!

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Read the whole thing here!

Calloway Hitch stumbled home, exhausted. His boss dropped him off at just past four o’clock in the morning at the entrance to Smashwood Trailer Park. He probably would have driven into the trailer park, right to Calloway’s front door if Calloway had asked him to.
But he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want him to do that, it was too awkward.
He thought there was a chance his girlfriend had kicked him out. He didn’t want to get dropped off at a trailer with a sign on the door saying Calloway fuck off! It would be awkward. Calloway was used to it. He could just sleep on the grass, and his boss would never have to know what a deadbeat he was.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t already dirty.
He worked on a road crew rebuilding the parking lot at the local hospital. His job involved standing around, sometimes for hours, then working furiously to dig trenches. It wasn’t specialized labor but it was boring and it was physically arduous and it left him covered head to toe in dirt.
Clumps of dirt clung to every scrap of skin that was visible, and some had even gotten under his pants somehow — he was shirtless because it was a hot Mississippi night, so his chest was absolutely covered in dirt. It had been mud originally, but it dried into just plain dirt.
The farther he got from his boss’s truck, the more tired he became. The adrenaline flowed out of his veins, and every step he took was wearying. He was increasingly sure his girlfriend would have found a reason to be pissed at him.
Sure enough, when he got close to the trailer, he saw a piece of paper on the door to his trailer. He groaned. He felt so tired he didn’t even want to keep going to read it. He could just curl up here on the grass and sleep.
But he wanted to read it. What if the note said Daenerys has a fever, we’re at the hospital? He’d look like an absolute piece of shit if he never showed up to see his own daughter at the hospital just because he was too lazy to get close enough to read the note.
So he staggered there on tired legs. Sure enough it read fuck off Calloway yr child spprt check bounced again will call cops if u come in go away go away go away. He let out a growl aimed at no one in particular. He didn’t understand why that check had bounced, he had thought there was enough money in there to cover it.
“Goddamn fuck!” He shouted at the sky. He knew he ought to be quiet, but he was upset and he needed to express it. Somewhere a dog barked.
A light turned on in the trailer. Calloway groaned and spat on the ground. He didn’t want to get in trouble and he couldn’t handle getting arrested again, but if that bitch baby-mama of his was going to come out here, he was going to defend himself.
“There you are, Calloway, you piece of shit! Daenerys needs school clothes-“
“So do I, bitch!” Calloway shouted, pointing at his shirtless body and tattered old jeans.
His girlfriend wore one of his oversized tee shirts over a pair of shorts. She came out with a baseball bat in her hand. She was red-faced and puffy because she had been asleep — and probably was binge-drinking — until moments ago. “You told me you’d pay up this month-“
“I tried, but you kept borrowin’ money for beer-“
“Don’t try to pawn this off on me, you deadbeat piece-of-shit-“
“If I’m a dead beat, you’re an entire dead rap-“
Not that far away, Avery woke up with a start. He had found an empty trailer in the Smashwood Trailer Park and moved in yesterday. He went outside just in time to see Calloway curse at some of the neighbors who had poked their heads out of their trailers. Nobody called the cops in places like this, not unless it was absolutely necessary, they just shouted at Calloway and “that bitch” to shut up.
“Why don’t you go suck that cop’s dick again?!” Calloway shouted at her as she backed into the trailer. “Maybe his cum is beer! You dumbass bitch!” He faced the neighbors in the rest of the trailer park. “She loves sucking off cops! She especially likes that fat motherfucker Heartley!”
Some people snickered. It wasn’t clear if they were laughing at Calloway for calling Officer Heartley fat or if they were laughing at Calloway’s girlfriend for sucking off a cop. Calloway smiled victoriously — he had obviously interpreted it as the latter, but the look on his girlfriend’s face as she went inside suggested she thought it was the former.
Calloway tried to look like he was confident and proud as he chose a spot on the grass. It was on her property, in front of her trailer, but it was close to the road. The grass was cool and dewy. It actually felt very good — it was moist, the cold wetness sliding over his bare chest and forming clean rivulets that ran down his chest.
Once some of the filth had been wiped off, a few tattoos were visible, pale looping lines, soldiers carrying American flags and an iron cross on his neck. Clumps of mud fell off his taut, leanly muscled chest. Avery watched him settle out and lay down. Calloway didn’t last very long though before he got back up and looked around to see who was up.
Calloway didn’t go to bed without drinking. He wasn’t an alcoholic, mind you, he just didn’t go to bed without drinking. He often had only a few drinks, it was just a way to relax and get sleepy.
But of course he didn’t have any, and his girlfriend wasn’t about to let him in to nab a beer (she had probably drank it all anyway). No one else was even awake.Was he going to have to sleep totally sober?
“Psst! Hey,” Avery said, approaching him in the darkness.
Calloway nodded at him as though he often chose to sit, covered in dirt and dew, in the grass at four o’clock in the morning. He didn’t recognize Avery. “Sup, man.”
“Hi. I’m Avery.”
“Sup.”
“I just moved in across the way,” Avery said. He pointed to his new trailer.
“Cool.” Calloway paused, then said, “Hey, you got any liquor? I need a drink. No biggie, I just need a little-“
“I do in my trailer, yeah,” Avery said. He came closer and sat down in the grass next to him. “I’ll give it to you. I’ve got five bottles — I filled out my bar when I moved in. I got a bottle each of vodka, brandy, rum, gin and tequila.”
“Ah, no shit? What? What’d you say your name was?” He looked at Avery as though he really mattered now.
“Avery.”
“Cool. Hey Avery, I’m Calloway. Lemme get a drink of that rum,” he said. As he said it, he thought there had to be a catch. This trailer park was home to tons of poor white trash like him — not quite as poor or as trashy as him, but still, no one who lived here believed there was such a thing as “extra rum”, and they never had bottles around the trailer without a plan to drink them in the near future.
“Sure, sure, but first… Will you cornhole me?”
Calloway paused for a long time, his face emotionless. Then he furrowed his eyebrows. The dirt that clung to his skin cracked because he didn’t often move in that direction, and little bits of it dropped over his face and his bare chest. “What?”
“Cornhole me,” Avery said. “I wanna taste your dick and feel you in my ass — you gotta cum inside me. You don’t pull out, do you?”
“Uh… What?”
Avery smiled. He reached for Calloway’s crotch, and Calloway sucked in his breath and scooted back. Calloway licked his lips. Avery moved very slowly so Calloway could get away if he wanted to. But Calloway just watched as Avery’s hand grabbed his cock through those mud-choked jeans.
“Is that cool? I’ll give you the best dome of your life, man.”
“Right here? I mean…”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be here,” Avery said. “It’s not that public.” They were not illuminated by the street lights strung up to the trees along the dirt road through the trailer park, and it was four o’clock in the morning, so no one was around. It was barely “in public” at all.
Calloway had a hollow hick laugh, and his heavily tattooed body shook. He was very muscular — not like a bodybuilder, like a worker, with heavily overdeveloped shoulders because he spent a lot of time digging trenches. He also spent most of his money on bills, debt, court fees and child support, with a hefty amount going to booze, weed and some occasional pills. He spent virtually no money on food.
So there was no padding anywhere on his body. Avery gently stroked his dick through his pants as Calloway hemmed and hawed, and Avery’s other hand began to touch his ribs. He had a perfectly flat belly, with not an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen.
That didn’t mean he had a six-pack though. He didn’t go to the gym or work out in an organized enough fashion for an actual six-pack, his abs weren’t that well-developed. His limbs were skinny despite the corded-muscles attached to them.
Avery suspected he smoked meth, which wasn’t true — but only because he had cleaned up when he was last in prison. Calloway had smoked meth for years before getting locked up. Now he didn’t see any of that other stuff as being real drug use: the weed, the pills, none of that mattered as long as he stayed off the meth.
“Fine,” Calloway said. He smiled nervously, revealing his jagged teeth with a gaping hole on the front-bottom. He was missing a few teeth in the back too. He leaned over on his back on the grass, raising his arms over his head so he didn’t have to watch it happen.
“Have you ever been jerked off by a man before?” Avery asked. He unzipped Calloway’s jeans and pulled his dick out. It was long and not that thick, just like Calloway’s body, but it looked tasty. He flopped it over his face, and chased it with his tongue. When he did finally get a taste of it, Calloway shuddered and shook like he hadn’t thought that would really happen.
“Uh…” Calloway blushed. His voice was weak and wavery. “In prison, once. That was… not, uh… like this.” That had been totally different. His father had told him once that it ain’t none of that shit if there ain’t no females around, like in the Army. Calloway had taken that to heart. That had been the one thing he had been excited about in prison — getting jerked off by prison bitches all the time.
But it hadn’t really turned out like he had thought. Sissies in prison weren’t treated as bitches, they were treated like queens. They got to do anything they wanted. The one sissy Calloway had wanted to get dome from — because he was very girlish and had excellent, thick lips — refused on account of Calloway being a filthy hick who smelled like ball-sweat.
Not only was Calloway not allowed to force anyone into giving him dome, he couldn’t even pay or beg for one — he had only ever gotten that one nut off because he spent all weekend showering, even buying cologne in the Commissary, and then he had had to take “his man” out “on a date” in his prison cell. It had taken weeks to set up. It was more difficult to get jerked off on in the inside than it was on the outside.
This, however, had happened so quickly and so suddenly Calloway was still pondering it when it had happened. His pants were virtually ripped down and his cock plopped right into Avery’s mouth.
At last, he felt a twinge of pleasure. This dome was a little weird and awkward and he prayed that no one was awake to look out their window — even in the darkness, they could probably see what was happening — it was a full moon tonight, after all.
His dick soon firmed up in Avery’s mouth, long and throbbing against his tongue. Avery deep-throated him until his nose was buried in Calloway’s bushy pubic hair.
The taste was raunchy and sour, and it made Avery gag most deliciously. Calloway’s dick had the flavor of dirt and mud from the day’s work, and even more intensely, an underscent of old, stale dirt, the scent of dried mud and of dusty rooms, all clinging to his dick. There were even clumps of what Avery could only assume was actual dirt, or maybe some sort of grease or oil, since it had a rather chemical, astringent flavor to it.
It was actually engine oil, from when Calloway had given his boss an oil change for a few extra dollars. That had been three days ago, and Calloway hadn’t showered since then. So that extra-ripe funk emanating from his ballsac was all the stale sweat that had collected in the humid area between his legs.
It felt good to have his pants down and his cock out. Calloway didn’t get to wash that often, so his crotch didn’t get bared that often either. He sighed and tried to concentrate on how good this dome felt — he had to admit it was the best dome he’d had in awhile.
“Goddamn,” he said as he lit a cigarette. He hadn’t intended to smoke any more before he went to sleep tonight — he was trying to conserve his cigarettes — but this seemed like a fortuitous enough even to justify it. Besides, he always smoked when he got dome. He was saving enough in getting this free rum that it didn’t seem that important — he could use the money he saved by not needing to buy alcohol for a few days to buy more cigarettes instead. He could even buy a carton, he thought, which would save him even more money.
His cock leaked precum that coated Avery’s throat and tongue. Avery guzzled it down greedily, slathering spit all up and down that greasy dick. He didn’t use his hands, preferring to sneak up and over his raunchy body. His muscles rippled beneath Avery’s touch.
Then Avery pulled off and slurped on his balls, which were so sour with funk that he gagged violently. The taste brought tears to his eyes. There was so much sweat there it tasted like he had splashed his tongue into a puddle of muddy taint-juice.
“Ha!” Calloway pumped his bicep as though he had been hoping to make Avery gag like that. He blushed a little too, though that wasn’t visible beneath the layer of mud that still dappled his cheeks. His taint-hairs tickled Avery’s tongue as he licked the spot beneath Calloway’s ballsac. “You are a fuckin’ nasty freak… — Avery, I mean,” he said when he remembered Avery’s name. He flopped his dick over Avery’s face.
This, Calloway thought, was what he had been expecting out of prison bitches. He thought there’d be lots of gagging and he’d get to mollywop his prison bitch on the cheek. He did that now as Avery slurped on his balls and retched. He slapped his cock over Avery’s face, again and again. He chuckled to himself. Now that he had done it this way, all nasty and humiliating and raunchy, he was glad he had done it romantically and sweetly in prison — this was a funnier idea than an actuality.
“Are you ready to get in my ass?” Avery asked. He blushed because of the disgusted look on Calloway’s face.
Calloway shrugged and sighed. “I guess so.” He had refused to do anal in prison. It just seemed too gross, he thought. Those prison-sissies probably had old cumwads drying in their ass. Every time he watched his cellmate do it — Calloway tried to look away when it happened, but like a car accident, he couldn’t always look away — he thought he saw little dried flecks of cum on the man’s cock. It wasn’t easy to see if that’s really what it was, not without getting on his knees and peering closely — which he wasn’t going to do — it could have been bits of fuzz from the prison-issued underwear, for example.
But it seemed like it could have been dried up, old cum, and he wasn’t going to let himself touch that. No way. That was nasty.
Avery, he could be somewhat confident, wouldn’t have cumwad still soaking into his ass. Avery bent over the grass, with his ass high in the air, swaying back and forth. Avery used one hand to spread his asscheeks, revealing a tight brown hole that beckoned.
Calloway whistled. “Damn, that looks tight. I know it ain’t, it can’t be — you must be nasty-loose on account of you wanderin’ ‘round trailer parks gettin’ it up the ass…”
Avery giggled and shook his ass. “Yeah. You got a good point. I’m good at keeping it tight though. Go ahead and just ram it in.”
Calloway grimaced. He normally would hold his dick in his hand and guide it in, but he didn’t want to do that because it would mean he had to touch Avery’s ass with his hands. He instead closed his eyes and tried to jab it in with no hands — but of course he just missed. He rammed it into Avery’s asscheek, leaving a moist spot of precum.
“You missed, dude,” Avery said with a giggle.
A blush bloomed on Calloway’s face again. He was glad no one could see. He looked like he was fumbling through his first time. He grimaced and tried again, this time getting it close into Avery’s cheeks.
He found the hole but had trouble getting his dick in without touching Avery’s ass. More than once, his hands instinctively grabbed those cheeks and his shaft, and tried to help his dick in, but then he pulled back when he realized he was touching Avery too much.
He took a deep breath. Touching a man’s ass wasn’t that bad, he thought, it looked better than fumbling like a squeamish virgin. He bit his lip and separated those cheeks with one hand, while his other slid his dick in.
“Damn…” Much to his surprise, it fit in very easily. Avery’s ass slid apart to almost suck his cock in. He had only intended to stick the tip in at first, to go slowly and see how much pain Avery was going to be in.
But instead Calloway watched with wide open eyes as his cock was slurped up by Avery’s ass. It clenched tightly around his shaft, and Calloway began to piston his hips.
He had been so focused on his surprise and his discomfort that Calloway gasped when a shudder of pleasure flowed through him. He bit his lip. He gripped Avery’s ass even more tightly with his fingers, so he could easily ram his dick in and out.
“Shit, boy, goddamn,” Calloway said, with a groan as pleasure flowed through his veins.
He had to admit this was better than fucking most women. It had its drawbacks, sure — no tits to grab on to, no pussy to play with, and he couldn’t kiss Avery — or wouldn’t, anyway — but Avery fit in that sweet spot between ‘tight and intact’ and ‘nasty and loose’. He was loose yet tight because he clenched hard on Calloway’s dick, as though trying to prevent him from ever pulling out. No girl did that.
Avery winced and writhed beneath Calloway, clawing at the dewy grass beneath him. He had thought they only just started plowing, but when he saw the first brilliant fingers of dawn sliding over the horizon, Avery realized he had lost track of time. It must be getting late, he thought.
It was well past five o’clock. Avery had been worshiping every inch of Calloway’s body for more than an hour, and now his prostate sang with every thrust of Calloway’s cock into him. Calloway’s lean and ropy body wrapped around Avery as he neared his orgasm, pounding away, his inhibitions finally gone at last. He didn’t even stop himself when he fondled Avery’s nipples out of pure instinct — Calloway had forgotten he wouldn’t find any tits there, and he was glad no one was around to see him do that.
An orgasm ripped through Avery’s body first. Calloway, again, was surprised — he didn’t know it was possible to orgasm while getting rammed in the ass. Girls never did that when getting fucked.
Avery shot cum all over the grass and his own hands, while Calloway felt his body ripple and massage his dick; he could sense the orgasm flowing through Avery’s body, and it was enough to bring him to the edge of his own climax.
“Damn, nasty-ass pig, you are gross!” Calloway barked right into Avery’s ear. Then he pushed Avery’s still-orgasming face into the mud. Avery got a mouthful of dirt as the raunchiest cock he’d ever taken shot its creamy wad into his guts. “Gonna fill you up wit’ my babies, bitch…”
Creamy hot cum sprayed into Avery, who moaned, his own climax still emanating through his body. The sticky, milky texture of cum was palpable inside him, and still more shot in, jet after jet of the most incredible load Avery had ever taken. It coated his insides and spilled out in a big cummy mess that coated Calloway’s crotch.
Exquisite waves of pleasure wracked both men. Avery howled out loud, uncaring of whether or not he attracted attention from the neighbors. Calloway did the same for a moment, then clenched his teeth shut and looked around to be sure no one was watching. He was unable to resist letting out a long, low and lingering moan though, as his hands gripped Avery’s smooth flesh.
Shudders flowed up Avery’s body, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug up clods of dirt underneath. Avery threw his head back, unable to howl anymore because the pressure and the pleasure were too intense. He could only gasp and cry out and beg for more from Calloway, who was still grunting with each thrust of his hips, sending spurt after spurt of creamy hot jizz up Avery’s body. Calloway’s sweat-soaked body gained a whole new layer of salty sweat that clung to his muscular frame.
Clumps of cum slipped out and onto the grass. “Ewgh, oh shit, I can see it, damn…” Calloway pulled out slowly, watching his creamy white semen plop out with his dick, until Avery’s entire ass was covered in glistening cum. Calloway’s dick rested on the surface, marinating in the santorum that dried there.
“How was that?” Avery said. His body was weak and tender, but he managed to stand on wobbling knees. He grabbed Calloway’s dick with one hand and gave it a stroke. A post-orgasmic shudder of exquisite pleasure shot through Calloway, who’s long limbs all tensed.
“Cool…” Calloway’s voice was breathy and tired, even more exhausted now than when he had gotten home from work.
“Come on,” Avery said. He held onto Calloway’s dick as he led him inside. “Lemme get you that rum.”
“Hell yeah,” Calloway said. “I gotta get drunk quick before the sun goes up, or I won’t be able to sleep.”
Avery nodded. He didn’t care. Once Calloway passed out drunk it would be morning, and he had heard a rumor there was a garbage man who sometimes wagged his massive knob at women who were up that early. Avery fully intended to be there.

The Trucker

Rob is in for a rough time when he stops at a Ramwide Truck Stop. That’s a chain whose locations are known for no-holds-barred man-on-man action, which is exactly what Rob is hoping for?

Can he handle the studly Southern trucker that the Ramwide is sending him?

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Or read the whole thing here!

Rob walked to the truck stop. He sometimes drove there, but he wanted to get some exercise. The older he got, the more difficult it was to inspire him to take walks, but he insisted on doing it every day no matter what. This way, he’d get his walk in while doing something else he wanted to do.
The truck stop outside of Norbilly, Oklahoma, didn’t usually see a lot of use. It did back in the seventies, when Norbilly was a major manufacturing center, with factories and trucks streaming in and out of town. Those factories were all gone now, the worker housing torn down, trucks no longer coming to town at all.
But there was definitely a truck there today, or there would be soon — Rob thought he would probably beat the trucker there. He had seen the truck drive into the All-Mart in town, and he caught a glimpse of the trucker as he brought merchandise into the back of the store. The trucker hadn’t finished unloading yet when Rob started walking to the truck-stop.
The trucker was a tall, broad-shouldered redneck in a flannel shirt with cut-off sleeves, chest bulging out of his clothes, a big cock that barely fit in his scuffed jeans. He had an unkempt beard and deep-set eyes. Rob had seen him at the All-Mart, and he had a feeling that the man would stop at the truck stop before heading out. He fully intended to be there.
It was a Ramwide Truck Stop. Everyone knew that that meant — at least, everyone who was a trucker or who liked jerking truckers off. That included Rob.
He was glad that no one was there when he finally got to the truck stop, and he was glad to have a few minutes to recover his breath. It didn’t seem like a far way to walk when he drove it, but actually walking it was more difficult. The last part was uphill. He sat down near one of the showerhouses to regain his breath, and he bought a bottle of water from the vending machine.
His timing was impeccable. About fifteen minutes after he arrived, the All-Mart truck came barreling down the highway. At first it looked like he wouldn’t get off into the truck stop, but at the last moment he swerved into the offramp lane.
Not wanting to seem like a stalker, Rob waited in the bushes behind the truck stop showerhouse. There were two showerhouses, one for women, but it didn’t see much use. Rob went to the men’s showerhouse, which was a small concrete rectangle that smelled of athlete’s foot cream and armpit hair.
Rob hadn’t gone in yet. He waited in the bushes behind the parking lot. He saw the trucker get out of the cab of the truck, stretch and yawn, then head into the showerhouse.
That was Rob’s cue. He casually walked around to the front of the building. He knew it would look suspicious since he wasn’t a trucker himself — and he didn’t even have a car parked here — but he didn’t think the trucker would worry about that.
When he walked into the showerhouse, he got hit with that humid, showery scent that always made Rob hard because he associated it with naked men. There was a sign on the door explaining that this showerhouse was for adults with an interest in hardcore plowing (it used more polite language, but that was the gist). Inside it smelled of semen and body hair and piss, sweat, saliva and linoleum, with the faint afterscent of cheap soap.
The trucker stood there at one of the open showering areas — the old-fashioned pillar kind, with a central column that sprayed water in every direction, so the bathers were expected to stand around it in a circle. He hadn’t taken off any of his clothes yet, not even his heavy boots, so there were muddy bootprints leading from the door to the shower.
The shower wasn’t on though. The trucker just stood there with those filthy jeans around his ankles, hairy ass flapping in the breeze, as he let loose with piss. Even though there was a bank of urinals against one wall, he pissed onto the drain in the showering area.
He turned around, belched and flopped his dick between his fingers, the last few drops of piss soaking into his skin. He didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised to see Rob standing there. He grunted a hello.
“Hi,” Rob said. “My name is Rob.”
The trucker grunted again but didn’t say anything.
Rob said, “I love your muscles, you must work out a lot. Great physique.”
The trucker nodded like a hill. He pumped his right bicep. He had never redone the fly of his jeans, so his cock flopped out of his hairy crotch. He had big, curvy biceps that Rob darted forward to lick.
The taste was sour with dried-on sweat and dust from the road, flavored with diesel exhaust and the trucker’s natural odor. His arm was hairy, and his fur scratched at Rob’s tongue. He pulled his arm away.
“You one of dem truck stop queers?”
Rob nodded. “Can I jerk you off?”
He curled his upper lip as though he had to think about it, though Rob had the strong impression he already knew the answer was yes. “You nasty.”
“That wasn’t a no,” Rob said. He sidled forward, but the trucker snarled.
“Weren’t no yes neither,” he said. “You swallow?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lemme see,” he said. “Suck my finger.” He held out his middle-finger as though he was flipping Rob off.
Rob blushed and nodded. He would gladly suck on any body part this nasty, raunchy trucker wanted him to suck on. He stepped forward and moved seductively, opening his mouth into an O-shape even before he got to the trucker’s hand.
He easily deep-throated the man’s middle-finger. Rob was good at it, so he could get the whole thing into his throat without choking, and he even pushed forward farther as though trying to get the man’s entire hand in his mouth. That, of course, didn’t work, but he did force the trucker’s index finger in as well. The taste was sour and salty from sweat.
It looked like the trucker was about to take his finger away. Rob moved his head. But then the trucker angrily rammed his finger back in, so deep Rob couldn’t help but choke. A fresh explosion of grimy-skin flavor hit Rob’s tongue.
He cackled and pushed Rob back. “I only ram males one way, dig? I fuck girls any way they want — nice, slow, hard, fast, I don’t care. I’ll do anything to get my dick wet in some lady-pussy. But I only ram males if they don’t mind gettin’ nasty. That describe you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Don’chu dare back out once we start. You understan’ me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’m-a ram yer tonsils, and I’m-a ram yer ass. You gonna lick some asshole too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“T’weren’t a question.” He spat on the linoleum floor of the showerhouse.
“Will you spit on me, sir?”
“What?”
“Your spit smells so bad. Spit on my face and in my throat. Please,” Rob said, quaking and blushing. “You’re such a superior alpha male. I need to feel you use me and abuse me. I need-“
He lightly slapped Rob, just hard enough to make a loud slapping sound. A twinge of pain ran up his face, and a twinge of desire ran up his spine. Rob stopped talking.
“Don’t tell me ‘bout your needs, cumbucket,” the trucker said. “You ain’t a girl, I ain’t gotta listen as you babble on ’bout what you want.”
“Yes, sir.”
He bristled and shifted his weight on his feet. “Now it so happens I was gonna spit on yer face. Not cuz you axt me to though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get on your knees and open your mouth,” he said. He hocked up a loogie, then displayed his rancid mouth full of saliva and phlegm. He hocked again as Rob sunk to his weak knees. He was excited, giddy even, to be doing this — it had been awhile since he bagged a redneck trucker. He opened his mouth and aimed it upward. The trucker formed a kissy face, then let his mouthful of fluids slop out. It plopped moistly into Rob’s mouth, some of it landing on his lower lip. “No swallowin’, bitch.”
The trucker watched Rob squirm with his arms crossed over his chest. He inserted his middle finger back into Rob’s mouth, making him gag this time as he smeared his own spit all over Rob’s tongue. It was foul, fetid, rancid, but it made Rob’s dick so hard he thought it might explode.
“Beg me to let you swallow it.”
“Pleashe? I want your filshe in muh belluh,” Rob said the best he could with a mouth full of moisture. Some of it spilled out onto his cheeks.
The trucker spat again, this time aiming it right for Rob’s nose. It plopped there, sending a fresh wave of that musky scent into Rob’s nostrils. Rob pulled his cock out of his jeans. The trucker glanced at it and scrunched up his nose as though he was going to make Rob stop masturbating, then didn’t.
“You may swallow.”
Rob smacked his lips and let that big ball of fluids flow down his throat. He gurgled as it settled in his belly, warm and moist and a bit nauseating, but he loved it just the same.
“What should I call you, sir?” Rob asked with a gasp. He left his mouth open and stuck his tongue out as though begging for more spit.
“My friends call me Rectum,” he said. “Cuz when I done see bitches with they ass in the air, I wrecked ‘em.” He cackled. “But you keep callin’ me sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I like that. Normally ain’t no one call me sir ‘cept prison guards,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take off your clothes and dance,” he said. “Shake your ass in my face. Wink your asshole.”
Rob nodded and stood up. He was about to take off his shirt when the trucker grabbed him by the neck. He squeezed just hard enough to make it hard to breathe.
“When I tell you to do somethin’, you say yes. Use your words. Don’t just nod at me like I’s a bitch. I ain’t a bitch, and I definitely ain’t yer bitch.” He let go and threw Rob to the ground.
“Yes, sir, I apologize,” Rob said, gasping for air. “It’s just that you’re such a real man, and I’m such a weakling, I find you intimidating and scary. You’re so much bigger and stronger than me.”
He nodded. “That’s understandable.” He belched right in Rob’s face. “Must feel pretty shitty to be a worthless excuse for a man.”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said as he took his shirt off. He dropped his pants while the trucker finally did the same, revealing a massive, broad chest and trunk-like thighs. His body was matted with hair. His skin was dusky and dark — he was clearly white, just swarthy and tanned, not to mention dirty. There were smudges of engine grease on his chest muscles.
Rob had seduced more than a few truckers in his younger days, so he thought he knew what the trucker wanted next. He bared his ass, facing away so as to avoid reminding the trucker he had no tits or a pussy. He stuck his ass in the air, winking his asshole as he slipped his pinkie finger in. He grimaced as though he was so tight that his tiny finger hurt.
“Nice,” said the trucker. “I ain’t gonna shower. We gonna be dirty. No point in gettin’ clean first, reckon.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Come here and kiss my feet. Then you can jerk me off,” he said.
Rob crawled over the dirty floor on his hands and knees. He made it to the bench on which the trucker sat, and lowered his head to the trucker’s burly feet. There were a few scattered hairs over the top of the foot and his toes.
He didn’t just kiss, he licked, the whole foot from toe to ankle. He got up every drop of grimy boot-flavor, the scent of leather and sweat, distilled musk so potent it brought tears to Rob’s eyes. He could have cum just from that, jacking himself off as he licked every inch of the trucker’s foot.
Then he traveled up the man’s leg, from his calf to his knee to his thigh. The hairs grew increasingly dense, thick and coarse as he went, and the man’s body grew fleshier, meatier the farther upwards his tongue voyaged. He collected a layer of dried sweat on his tongue, which he swallowed, smacking his lips and displaying an empty mouth to the trucker.
He just grunted, and aimed his dicktip into Rob’s mouth. An explosion of intense cock-taste hit his senses. Rob gurgled. He hocked up a mouth full of spit of his own, and he let it run down that limp cockshaft. Rob slathered spit up and down the shaft.
It didn’t stay limp for long. The trucker groaned and grunted. His muscular upper body roiled. Rob got the impression he had intended to complain that Rob didn’t do it right — that he was going to complain, maybe smack him, and throat him violently — but Rob did slurp, slather and lick just right, so there was nothing to complain about. Rob always did it right.
He had his nose buried deep in the trucker’s cock even before he got totally hard, and he kept it there as the trucker’s meat turned into an iron rod in his neck. It strained and throbbed, making Rob choke and sputter.
But that was exactly how he liked it. He enjoyed the struggle to swallow a massive cock, and he loved being throated hard. He grabbed the trucker’s hairy asscheeks with both hands.
That was the universal signal for ram my face as hard as you can and the trucker picked up on it. He chortled and wrapped his own hands around Rob’s head. He interlaced his fingers in Rob’s hair on the back of his head. He belched, the sound and the vibrations rumbling through his body and his cock in Rob’s throat.
He let Rob take one deep breath, then the trucker rammed his dick all the way in until his balls flopped onto Rob’s chin. His ball-sweat was slick and greasy, sticking to Rob’s skin. He groaned and closed his eyes.
His nose squashed into the trucker’s hairy crotch. Rob inhaled deeply of it, lungs crying out for oxygen as that massive cock throbbed in his throat.
“Don’t let go, swallow that dick, damn…” the trucker said, his eyes closed. He sighed. Rob could sense the waves of pleasure moving up the man’s body from his cock, as Rob’s throat spasmed and squeezed around it. Tears welled up in Rob’s eyes. “Ten more seconds, bitch.”
He held up one hand, his other keeping a tight grip on Rob’s head. He very slowly counted off with his finger, lifting one finger up. Once he got all five fingers, he did it again with the same hand. He hesitated with the tenth finger, teasing Rob for as long as he could take it.
Rob’s face turned red, and he was dizzy from lack of oxygen. Still, he loved the feeling of a giant slab of man-meat filling up his throat. The difficulty of swallowing the whole thing made it a challenge that he enjoyed, and his submission meant he could let his alpha solve the challenge. All Rob had to do was open wide and submit.
They both jumped — and the trucker’s cock pulsated in Rob’s throat — when a burst of music filled the air. It was that “Ding-dong! The Witch Is Dead!” song from The Wizard of Oz. The trucker snarled.
He pulled his dick out, and Rob gasped loudly for air. His lungs cried out, his ribs twisted painfully. He heaved to regain his breath.
“It’s my ex-wife. She’s a fuckin’ bitch.” He answered the phone, while using one of his fingers to beckon Rob. He made Rob sit on the ground, resting his head back on the bench. “Hey,” he said into the phone, as he plopped his plump ass right on Rob’s face. His asscrack was slick with sweat and hair that was matted to his flesh. Rob inhaled deeply of that scent. He cringed and crooned.
He stuck his tongue out, getting a taste of that hot flesh. Sweat trickled onto his tongue. The showerhouse was warm and humid, so it had been collecting there, filth building up and clinging to the trucker’s body. Rob licked it all up, listening to the rumble of him on the phone with his wife.
The trucker’s dominance was gone. He was submissive now. His voice was clipped, anxious, like he was angry but had to hide it from her. Rob couldn’t hear every word, but he picked up a lot of what the trucker said.
“Sorry, baby, I gotta be on the move, you know that. I gave you advance notice, like I’s s’posed to. She understood, and we still got- Uh-huh. Well, baby, you know I sent it. First of the month. Was only yesterday, I’m sure it’ll get there.”
Rob’s tongue slipped into the trucker’s asshole at last. A burst of raw masculinity coated his tongue, silky and gooey, pure manhood flowing down his throat. It was sour and gritty and overwhelming, and he stopped listening to the conversation as its tenor grew more and more angry.
The trucker responded to Rob licking too. He groaned and shifted his weight, plopping his asshole directly onto Rob’s mouth so he could explore the inside of the trucker’s ass. He slathered so much spit there that it spilled out and coated Rob’s face. It dripped onto the bench beneath his head.
“Nah. You ain’t allowed to do that, Christine. It’s in the- What? That ain’t true, and it don’t matter neither. You ain’t in charge of my life. You know that ain’t true. You spreadin’ lies. Don’t you say that!” His body tensed, and his asshole clenched around Rob’s tongue. Rob reached around and gave his dick a stroke, which made the trucker’s entire body spasm. He began to rub his ass back and forth over Rob’s head, filling his own ass with Rob’s tongue as he bellowed into the phone. “Well fuck you then! You think I can’t get a lawyer?! My custody rights ain’t somethin’ you dole out when it’s convenient, Christine! You agreed to that schedule, and you knew what it was then! You knew I was a trucker, don’t pretend I sprung that on you last week! I can’t just switch my days off! I’m in fuckin’ Oklahoma!” He took a deep breath. “Listen, go fuck yourself, Christine. Fuck yourself with that Swedish’s retard’s cock, see if I care. If she ain’t waitin’ for me on Friday, I’ll see you in court.” He hung up the phone and turned it off. He growled and got his ass off Rob’s face, then he grumbled and smacked Rob’s ass-slickened face softly. “Females are the worst.”
“Yes, sir. I don’t like women much at all,” Rob said. He liked talking shit about guys with women, and despite his friendships, he was utterly confident that he would hate dating them. “They’re such bitches.” He felt a little bad, but his female friends would understand. They knew what kind of guys he was into, and frankly, they were glad that he kept these sort of men from getting too frisky.
“Uh-huh,” the trucker said with a throaty chuckle. “But damned if I don’t love pussy.” He dragged Rob into position, bending him over the bench with his ass in the air. “Fuck. Ain’t no female let me just go to town on her like you do. I ain’t a bad lover, mind you, I eat pussy. I eat pussy good, I swear.” He grabbed Rob by the hair and lifted his head up. He stuck two fingers out in front of his face and licked. “See? I lick pussy real good. Stick it all the way in.” He showed off how long his tongue was.
“Sir, if I could make a suggestion…” Rob wasn’t sure he would be allowed to say anything. “Women don’t want to be penetrated with a tongue.”
It looked like the trucker was about to tell Rob he just wanted to ram him, not have a real conversation. But he stopped with his dick throbbing between Rob’s cheeks, right atop his asshole.
“What?”
“When you lick a woman’s pussy, don’t stick your tongue as far in as you can,” Rob said. “Just lick her clitoris. That’s the part that feels good.”
“You ain’t s’posed to stick yer tongue in ‘em?”
“Not really. A little bit is fine, it’s not really a bad thing. But you should lick her clit, not her pussy.”
“Her clit’s in her pussy.”
“Uh… No it isn’t,” Rob said. He blushed. “You really shouldn’t be learning about female anatomy from me. The clit is above the pussy, not in it. Lick that.”
“That don’t make any sense. You gotta stick yer tongue in, that’s what fuckin’ is-“
“No, you don’t. Look, ‘Rectum’, or whatever, do whatever you want. You could even ask a girl where she wants your tongue,” Rob said. “I don’t care. I’d rather have you sexually frustrated so you keep plowing dudes. But if you’re gonna eat some pussy, that’s where you should eat it.”
The trucker was quiet for a moment. He grumbled. “I don’t like it when my bitch speaks so forwardly. If you takin’ dick, shut yer mouth and take it.”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said. He rubbed his asshole up and down on Rectum’s dick.
“Good.” He slipped his cock in, just the tip at first. Then he gritted his teeth, grabbed Rob’s shoulders to hold him in place and worked his dick in inch by inch. “No squirmin’ yet. Don’t move. Hey! Don’t move.” He smacked Rob’s asscheeks every time he moved or made a sound.
The pain was incredible, and the dim, mounting sense of pleasure beneath it all was even more intense, even if it was faint at first. Rob moaned. He loved making sounds because it caused the trucker to smack his ass, which sent an additional wave of desire through Rob’s body.
He plumped his entire cock in without pulling out one time. He just kept grinding and forcing it until his balls smacked against Rob’s ass. The pressure was unimaginably potent, making Rob gasp and squirm no matter how the trucker tried to keep him still.
“Please, fill me up! God yes! I love your cock! It’s so big!” Rob moaned breathlessly. A few tears came to his eyes.
“I know,” the trucker said. “But keep tellin’ me.” He pulled on Rob’s hair with one hand, while using his other to keep Rob’s head in place. He swayed his hips back and forth, teasing every inch of Rob’s insides with his massive cock. It was arduously painful until his touched Rob’s prostate, which sent a wave of bliss through Rob’s body, a sensation so intense it made all the pain up till now vanish from his mind.
Rob melted into a weak pile of submissive flesh. This, he thought, was the part he loved. He couldn’t control any part of his body. He was entirely on autopilot, ass open wider than he thought possible so the trucker could pound away at him. His limbs flailed, mouth gasping, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the air.
“Can you squeal like a piggie?” the trucker asked. He pulled on Rob’s hair, dragging his head upward until they were so close they could nearly kiss.
The feeling of his foot-long cock in Rob’s ass made it difficult to concentrate. The trucker stopped moving and repeated his question, directly into Rob’s ear. His hot breath condensed on Rob’s face.
“Oiiiiiink…” Rob moaned.
“Better. Louder. More pig-like.”
“Oink. Oink! Oink! Oink!” Rob screamed increasingly louder each time. When he did, his asshole clenched, sending waves of agony through his body and pleasure through the trucker’s.
“Yeah, you is one nasty bottom,” the trucker said with a groan. He slammed his cock in and out while Rob continued to make pig-like rutting sounds.
Soon the sensations were too extreme for Rob to make any focused sounds, so all he could do was moan and squirm. The trucker pounded away, groaning directly into Rob’s ear.
“Excuse me, sir, would you like to make some money?” Rob asked, straining to get the words out with the intense feelings welling up within his ass.
“What?” He stopped moving with his cock deep in Rob’s body.
“I’ll write you a check for a hundred dollars if you kiss me while you wreck my ass,” Rob said. He was on the verge of tears. It felt like his entire body was going to explode. That massive cock was inside him, plowing every inch of his innards. “And I’ll write you a check for five-hundred dollars if you both kiss me — with tongue — and you give me a reacharound. I can’t prove the check will clear. You just have to trust me.”
Neither man moved for a long time. The trucker recoiled then, and growled.
“You write that check out to cash, you little bitch,” the trucker said. “I ain’t tellin’ you my real name. Get your checkbook now.” He held onto Rob’s ears as Rob staggered, in great pain and mind-numbing pleasure, to his clothes crumpled up on the floor. The trucker followed him without letting his dick fall out of Rob’s ass. Rob had made sure his checkbook and a pen were ready in case he needed it. He scrawled out the check, made out to cash.
“I didn’t sign it yet,” Rob said with a moan, the bliss wracking his body so intense it hurt. He wrenched his head back and handed the check over. “Do it first. Sir.”
The trucker grimaced. His mouth was right next to Rob’s ear, so their faces were nearby anyway. His bristly beard scratched at Rob’s face. He stuck his tongue out gingerly.
When that thick tongue touched Rob’s lips, the trucker jumped and twitched. He even gagged a little. His tongue hit Rob’s mouth, and Rob kissed him back.
His muscles all tensed, his chest hair rubbing against Rob’s smooth back. The trucker’s body wriggled and squirmed as he fought against his own instincts. His hesitance and reluctance were clear, but he didn’t slow down and he didn’t even try to make it a quick, perfunctory peck on the lips. His hot breath mixed with Rob’s as their tongues interlocked.
Then one of his callused, rough hands wrapped around Rob’s cock. The trucker’s whole body shook again, and his dick twitched. The trucker groaned without removing his mouth, so the sound resonated all the way into Rob’s belly.
At last he resumed plowing. He kept his mouth planted on Rob’s and rammed his dick all the way in, nearly all the way out, then balls deep once more. Rob’s whole body reacted and spasmed, limbs flailing.
The trucker rammed him so hard that Rob’s feet lifted off the ground. He was supported entirely by the trucker’s strong arms, his cock and his tongue in Rob’s mouth.
It was not a passionate kiss, nor a competent one. His tongue fought with Rob’s as though he intended to invade and conquer Rob’s mouth. His handjob was rough and dysrhythmic as well.
But most of the allure of getting rammed by men was the raw, amateur feel to it. Rob was glad to submit to this colossal cockjob, and he loved servicing the man behind and atop him.
Once the trucker got moving, he seemed to forget that his tongue was in a man’s mouth, and he didn’t pay much attention to his hand either. He kept both in position though, even as he focused on drilling his dick in and out.
The motion he created was enough to send Rob over the edge. He was overjoyed to cum like this, with the trucker still in his ass, his hand on Rob’s cock and his tongue in Rob’s mouth. As uncontrollable pleasure wracked his body Rob kissed him back, slathering spit all over his lips and his beard. He sucked on the man’s tongue.
A burst of hot cum sprayed over the man’s callused fingers, coating his tanned skin. He kept on jacking, his hand moving slowly up and down the shaft until every last drop of cum had been drained from Rob’s balls. At last he pulled off Rob’s mouth.
“Could use some lube, bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. He took his cum-coated hand and stroked his dick one time, wiping all that semen up on his shaft.
Then he jammed his dick in and out, the hot, creamy cum providing enough lube to send him over the edge. His hairy muscles all flexed at once, and he pushed Rob’s head back down to the ground. Rob’s face pressed into the cum-splattered linoleum, his ass in the air.
The trucker watched his creamy dick slide in and pulsate there, his veiny shaft spasming as he nutted within Rob’s ass. He grinned at the sight of Rob’s curvy cheeks, his feminine shape and his tight asshole accepting every drop of the trucker’s cum. With Rob’s head on the ground, all the trucker could see was that asshole and the frothy, cummy mess that bubbled out of it.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ nasty-ass cumdump,” he groaned. “Hell yeah… Fuck… Where was you when I was in lockup, damn…”
Every time Rob thought the trucker was done, he groaned and a fresh spurt of cum flowed into Rob’s ass. He shot such a huge load that it dripped into every corner of Rob’s flesh, and it slipped out his ass too, dripping down his thighs and onto the showerhouse floor.
He stayed there, cock deep in Rob’s ass, even when he was finally done. When Rob opened his mouth to speak — but before he could actually make a sound — the trucker roared and pounded on his back. The trucker shifted his cock back and forth, and it twitched inside Rob’s sensitive body.
“Here. Sign the check.” The trucker handed it over, his dick still in Rob’s ass, growing limper by the moment.
Rob’s body was tense and tight. He struggled to grip the pen, but he managed to write his name with shaky fingers on the signature line. He handed the check back to the trucker, who finally pulled out.
The most jaw-dropping sense of relief of Rob’s entire life flooded him. He moaned so loud it startled the trucker, who gently kicked his ass with one bare foot. Rob collapsed onto the floor, a squirming mass of post-orgasmic flesh.
He nearly fell asleep. He didn’t quite, but he almost did. He was a warm buzz of desire and arousal, and he couldn’t even think about getting up yet. He heard the trucker walk over to the showers. He belched loudly and bathed, ignoring Rob.
Finally he stood on his weak knees. He stretched his legs. He took a few steps towards the door, intently aware of the trucker watching him leave.
“Hey, bitch!” He had to bellow to be heard over the sound of the shower running.
“Yes, sir?”
He was covered in soap suds, partially obscured by billowing clouds of steam. He licked his lips and sneered. “You like truckers?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Next month. This time next month. I be back here in Norbilly. You bring your checkbook,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll bring at least two other truckers. Like me. You pay me, okay? Five hundred each, so fifteen hundred dollars. Don’t tell them you’re paying. They’ll kiss and give a reacharound, maybe more. I can make ‘em do it.”
“Yes, sir. That’s a lot of money, sir.”
“I’m gonna buy my daughter the pony she been beggin’ for. That’ll teach my bitch ex-wife to call me a loser,” he said. “You be ready. Bring lube. Forget the word ‘no’.”
“Yes, sir.” Rob said. He walked out of the door, clothes in hand. He stood naked in the parking lot of the truck stop, then slowly got dressed. He smiled and started to walk back to town. He couldn’t wait for next month.
That was going to be the most exciting day of his life, and he only had one month to prepare.

Buck on Bottom

Buck is outta prison once more, and this time he’s about to get turned upside down… because this book is full of Buck on bottom! That’s right, a whole novel of legendary top Buck Sampson doing nothing but bottoming in myriad and sundry ways. You won’t believe where this one goes!

From the prison cell to the oil rig to the trailer park, Buck is in for it in a big way!

Read it now!

Buck Sampson do be sayin’

Content

Buck the Ex-Con

Buck is out of prison again, and he’s up to his old tricks! He’s got a plan to stay out, but will it work? Buck is a muscle-bound ex-con redneck who doesn’t want to go back to prison and doesn’t want a reputation as a jailhouse booty bandit… but even more than that, he wants to stick his rod in anything that moves! So he’s got to satisfy his needs on the DL, even if that means holding down some hobos, addicts and losers, while doing the dirty in the dirt!

Read it now!

‘Buck Sampson – videos’

“Hey, how many push-ups can you do wit’ me on ya back, whiteboy?” Lem asked. He didn’t wait for a response, he just sat his own briefs-clad ass on Buck’s back. “Yee-haw, partner!” He guffawed and even twirled a fake lariat above Buck, though Buck couldn’t see and no one else was around. Buck’s muscles flexed beneath him, as Buck continued doing his push-ups.

From Buck the Roughneck

Buck gurgled, getting drunker by the second because he was chugging beers. He slapped Spider’s gaunt cheek with his dick. “That’s why I’m offerin’ you twenty bucks.” Then he fishhooked Spider’s cheek with one finger and slipped his limp dick in, just barely getting the cocktip to touch the edge of his mouth. Spider closed his eyes. Buck chuckled. “I’m-a just do it. You can let me know by cooperatin’ how much of that twenty bucks you wanna earn.”

From Buck the Ex-Con

Buck lookin’ pensive as fuck.

Buck wearin’ smooth ‘n’ cleans today!

C’mon, cellie, you got wifey stuff to attend to.

Let’s roll!

Zeke the Cowboy

Zeke is a cowboy in Wyoming Territory, and when a bad bunch of vaqueros comes violently into town, Zeke lays the law down. But he just might be in over his head! Luckily the fugitive hillbilly Buck is there to help, leading to a climactic showdown on a cattle run.

Can Zeke get through the season? He’s in for the man-on-man ride of a lifetime!

Read it now!