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.

Rednecks in the Dark

Jacob and Ransom never thought inviting the weird old biker Cooter to their camping trip to ride dirtbikes in the woods would lead to a hardcore stretch of man-on-man redneck action! But this camping trip just turn into their most intense weekend ever!

Can they handle this much hardcore alpha male action?!

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Or read the whole thing here!

When Jacob and Ransom went camping, they always brought their dirtbike along. Only it was never really their dirtbike, it was Jacob’s brother’s, and this week Jacob’s brother had had to sell it to make bail money for his girlfriend. So they had no dirtbike for this weekend’s camping trip.
“No dirtbike? You li’l ingrates, shit!” Cooter said when they told him. His anger made his big bushy beard jiggle. He scowled at them both.
“It’s not my fault!” Jacob said. “If you don’t want to go camping, that’s fine-“
“Nah, nah, I’ll still come,” Cooter said. His scowl turned into a shrug like he wasn’t angry a moment ago. “We’ll just get drunk. That’s usually all I do campin’. Tha’ss the whole point, reckon.” He clucked his tongue and winked at them. “See you boys later.”
He went off then, presumably to get his things for the camping trip. Jacob and Ransom exchanged knowing looks. The whole point of inviting Cooter was to ride dirtbikes. They were trying to impress him. What would they even talk about with a middle-aged man all weekend?
Ransom sighed. “Aw man, I kinda wish he wasn’t coming now.” Josh nodded his agreement. They were both ambivalent because Cooter was scary. The good kind of scary. Or at least not the really bad kind. Jacob and Ransom would never admit that, it’d make them look weak, but it was true. Cooter was a middle-aged biker — his license was suspended, his motorcycle in police custody, so he was only a biker in a cultural sense — who was active in the Jagged Right, a badass motorcycle gang who controlled the underground in this neck of the woods, that neck being Martinsburg, West Virginia. Cooter had an old-timey beardy like a gold prospector, with a broad burly body and a perpetual scowl. He was stacked like a rugby player despite being fortyish (or maybe older, he seemed positively ancient to Jacob, but he never complained of sore knees, so maybe not that old, it was hard to tell, he’s the kind of guy you can’t imagine ever looking young). They’d been trying to get him to go dirtbike riding with them for months. Both Jacob and Ransom wanted to be badasses like Cooter, and they hoped to get in with the Jagged Right through him.
Their spot was in the Crambighter Woods Campground. That was a low-budget spot near the highway, somewhere between a campground and a homeless encampment. It was a semi-legal encampment of semi-homeless men, a little splat of tents and trailers, a splat that was hoping to grow up into a trailer park one day. Anyway, the campsites were spread over a two-mile-long road that looped back on itself, but you were allowed to go deeper into the woods to set up your own site. A few of those informal campsites were well-maintainted, and one of them was where Jacob and Ransom always went. They considered it their campsite.
So it was unfortunate that they had to go camping this weekend with no dirtbike. Cooter was shooting them dirty looks as they got to the campground and set up for the night. That at least was something Jacob and Ransom could do in their sleep, which was good because they got there late, just as the sun was going down.
“We’re sorry, Cooter,” Jacob finally said. “It was my brother, he’s such a dumbass! He was driving the dirtbike on the highway! The Interstate! I told him, he’s gonna get arrested.”
Cooter was quiet at first. “That’s pretty badass. Bet he caused a traffic jam though.”
“It was like three in the morning. And he was drunk. And on probation. And he had two green downers in his pocket,” Jacob said. “They’re auctioning off the dirtbike, cuz he owes like twelve grand in fees and shit.” A grim silence spread around the campfire, which Cooter was waving to get it going. He wasn’t doing a very good job, but the other two didn’t point it out to him. When Cooter finally let out a chuckle, then another one. Jacob and Ransom followed, and before long all three were laughing out loud.
“I got you boys a surprise too,” Cooter said when the laughter died down. “I think he’s comin’ now.”
“Who?”
“You brought someone else?” Ransom bit his lip. If it was anyone other than Cooter, he’d have been pissed they invited some stranger.
It turned out not to be a stranger though.
It was Yancey Garraty, the sissy at the trailer park they all came from. Yancey was a slim thirty-something man with a limp wrist and a high-pitched voice like a girl. He was always vaguely creepy, like he had extra eyes hidden somewhere. Jacob and Ransom wrinkled their nose when they heard the sound of Yancey approaching, which was the sound of a dirtbike.
Yancey brought a brand-new dirtbike with him, as he followed the trail from Crambighter Woods that Cooter directed him to. Yancey drove it at slow speed to the campsite where Cooter, Ransom and Jacob sat around a fire. Ransom was tall and fresh-faced, with a big confident chest and broad shoulders. He had a deep voice, ruddy cheeks and dark hair. Jacob was the youngest, at barely twenty-one. He was thin and lanky, deeply-bearded, and he wore camo pants as if they were his uniform.
Cooter stood up when Yancey parked the dirtbike near their campsite. The other two stood as well, but Cooter came closer. Jacob and Ransom stayed behind, wary — they assumed at first that Yancey was here to attack them or challenge them in some way. Cooter hadn’t told his friends what was going on.
“Who’re you, man?!”
“Hey! This is our campsite. Whatchoo doin’?”
Cooter held one hand up for silence. His dark face was in shadows cast by the campfire. Jacob and Ransom both fell silent. Cooter didn’t look at the other two, he just came closer to Yancey and shook his hand. He inspected the dirtbike, which was sparkling clean, having only been purchased earlier today.
“Cooter, what’s going on? Hey.”
“Hey boys,” Yancey said with a flounce and a smirk in their direction, then he blushed and fell silent. He licked his lips.
Cooter nodded that he was satisfied. He looked at his friends. “You boys know Yancey, right?” He wagged his finger at them. “You call him Mistah Yancey, show him respec’.” They hadn’t disrespected him, but they both looked down as if chagrined anyway. Yancey wasn’t even his last name, which it wasn’t clear Cooter understood, but neither Jacob nor Ransom pointed that out. Cooter glared at them. “He a straight-up sissy, boys and we gonna ram the ever-lovin’ shit outta him tonight. He gonna give us the dirtbike.”
They looked at each other, then at Cooter, then at Yancey, then back at each other again with wide eyes and a series of stammers.
“What?”
“Yo, what? We ain’t like that, dawg. We ain’t… We ain’t, y’know, booty bandits like you-“
“You for real?”
“Ah, shit, Yancey…” Ransom shook his head, not like he was refusing, like he was mourning.
Cooter growled. “Shut up, both you fuckwits,” he said. He straightened his back. “Once you been locked up, you need the booty, boys, you know that.”
“You know that, Cooter.” Ransom chuckled, his jaw-droppingly deep voice echoing in the forest. “You say that all the time. But we ain’t been in prison-“
“I’ll do it,” Jacob blurted out. He tried to sound cocky. Usually Ransom came off as the badass leader of the two of them — and their little friend group — so Jacob was eager to show that he could ball. He chugged the rest of the can of beer he had opened, and he belched. “No problem.”
“Hell yeah!” Cooter clapped his hands once, then clasped Jacob on the book. “You gonna like this, you the shit, Jacob.” He winked at Jacob, and he grabbed another beer for himself and one for Jacob.
“Yeah, cool,” Ransom chimed in, as if this wasn’t a reversal of positions for himself. He couldn’t be shown up by his friend. He only thought about what he was agreeing to — sticking his dick in Yancey’s butthole — after he said it.
Cooter had been in prison for years, and everybody knew he was a booty bandit. He had a “girlfriend” in there, and he said all the time that only a wuss jacks himself off. Real men have girlfriends or they swing on the downlow. Jacob and Ransom had never disputed that because they didn’t want to admit they were scared to do anything more than jack off next to each other and both were sort of still virgins. Neither would admit that to each other or to Cooter.
“If you don’t cornhole him, this ain’t ya dirtbike,” Cooter said. He had a deep, glowery voice, like he was simmeringly angry all the time. “Whoever do it get to share it. It’s ours.”
“Wait, he bought us a dirtbike?” Jacob asked.
“Hell yeah,” Ransom said. His big-boy voice boomed. “No problem. You should know I’m gonna plow like a stallion, man, I swear, I might break you into little lavender pieces, boy. You okay wit’ that?” He was nervous, but he felt he had to lean into it. No looking like a wuss in front of Cooter. “When I fuck women, I’ll go slow and gentle, but if’n you gonna bend ovuh for me, you best not back out.” He chugged his beer just like the others, then grabbed another and chugged that. He really wanted to be good and drunk for this.
“Yes, sir,” Yancey said. He giggled and sashayed towards the campfire. He went to Ransom, whose massive chest puffed out like he was being threatened by tiny little Yancey. Yancey was shorter and thinner than Ransom, looking like a child’s doll next to him. He stuck one hand under Ransom’s shirt and tweaked his nipples. Ransom’s chest rippled and he gasped. He almost pushed Yancey away instinctively, but then didn’t. He just sniffled and looked away.
“Aw, man, aw, man, aw, man,” Ransom said with a laugh. His big dumb face turned deep, dark red. He was one of those people that laughed when he was nervous, and his big hairy body shook. He suddenly became very ticklish. Yancey’s fingers got his armpits, and Ransom flexed his muscles and smiled to cover up his ticklish laughter.
“Take off your shirt,” Yancey said. That was the only reason he agreed to this: Ransom was the handsome one with the splendid chest. He groped every inch of his torso. Cooter had his alpha-male allure, Yancey thought, but he could have Cooter’s dick anytime for free. Jacob was cute like a puppy or a sad refugee, but he wasn’t worth a dirtbike.
Yancey wanted Ransom.
Ransom took his shirt off, laughing so hard he was nearly hyperventilating. “Aw, man, this is crazy, you know, you know, okay, okay, no big deal, but like, you know, shit, that’s crazy,” Ransom’s eyes bugged out. “Like whatever, it’s cool.” He had grown up on a farm, and he looked like it — he had a thickly padded body filled with muscles. Yancey licked a trail down his muscles and pulled down his loose-fitting jeans to reveal a plump cock.
Cooter was already naked. He wrinkled his nose as he stroked his dick, looking at that tight asshole he was about to ram. Jacob was a few feet away, getting undressed more slowly. Cooter got naked a lot. Ever since his time in prison, he had no shame about taking his clothes off. Jacob tried to have the same confidence; he had a big barrel chest like Cooter.
But no matter what Jacob did, it was always obvious that Cooter was stronger, tougher and had a bigger cock. His foot-long horse-cock always made Jacob feel small. Ransom too had a huge dick, though not quite as long as Jacob’s. They all showered together cuz their trailer park only had hot water in the communal showerhouse, but Jacob and Ransom had never seen Cooter’s leviathan erect before.
They were both bugging out at sight of it, but they played it cool. Cooter’s hairy body gleamed in the campfirelight.
“C’mon, stick that ass up, boy,” Cooter said. He spat on the palm of his hand and wiped into into Yancey’s ass. That was for lube, but Jacob and Ransom silently thought that was crazy. Cooter just casually stuck his finger in Yancey’s ass, and Yancey let out a moan like he liked it. then he grabbed Ransom’s cock and put the whole thing in his mouth — it was big but soft and seemed shrunken in the cool night air. Ransom sucked in his breath.
“Yeah, shit, get it wet, man, shit…” Ransom was suddenly stricken with fear that he wouldn’t get hard. He didn’t show it though, and after a few seconds, a pleasurable tingle did arise at the root of his cock. Yancey’s warm mouth encircled his whole shaft, which his tongue battered as he choked up mouthloads of spit that soaked Ransom’s ballsac.
Jacob watched, heart beating fast. He was the only one not involved right now. Did he look like a pussy? He felt he needed to assert his masculinity, so he touched Yancey’s asscheek with one hand. He grunted like he was satisfied with how plump it was, while inside his heart did flips because he realized he was touching Cooter’s pubic hair, as Cooter was sliding his dick into Yancey’s ass.
“Yeah, spread his cheeks, man, come on,” Cooter murmured as his cock slid deeper into Yancey’s ass. He snarled when Yancey moved to handle his cock again, and Cooter slammed his fists on Yancey’s back to keep him still. “Don’t let ‘im move, Jacob. I’m-a make him squeal like a piggie.”
Jacob gulped. He hadn’t mean to be this involved. He had to use both hands to separate Yancey’s asscheeks, feeling both Yancey’s soft fuzz and Cooter’s kinky dark pubic hairs. Jacob had to suppress a gag. If he was going to be as hardcore as Cooter, he thought, he needed to be willing to do what Cooter did.
And Cooter just plunged right in, like it was nothing, like he did it all the time! Which he presumably did, Jacob and Ransom were just surprised to see it.
Cooter closed his eyes and moaned while his cock slid in and out of Yancey’s ass. His big sweaty redneck muscles glistened. When Yancey squirmed, Cooter smacked his back, sending a wave of pleasure up Yancey’s spine
“Oh, he got a nice tight hole…”
Unable to focus on his mouth while he endured Cooter’s intense penetration, Yancey pulled Ransom’s cock out of his mouth. He thwacked it over his face. Every time he did, Ransom jumped up and blushed a little brighter.
“Damn, boy,” Ransom said with a barrel-throated laugh, “You been swallowin’ my cock like you got somethin’ to prove. You should give lessons to females, hell.” His dick was already leaking precum, and he had an embarrassed grin on his face. He was genuinely getting into this now, his anxiety vanishing. It was better than a blowjob from a woman, he thought, because Yancey swallowed him all the way to the root, and he didn’t even complain when Ransom began forcing his dick in and out of Yancey’s throat. He fucked it like a pussy, and Yancey barely gagged.
Felt good as anything! Ransom wasn’t about to admit that though. He was definitely gonna hafta say later on, in the tent, that he would rather have a blowjob, even from an ugly woman.
Yancey moaned through a mouthload of cock, but the pain and pleasure of the foot-long meat sliding into him made it too hard to think. When he lifted his head, Cooter growled and grabbed his hair.
“Who’s cock is in ya, princess?”
“Cooter…” Yancey said softly, moaning. Pangs of pleasure shot up his spine as Cooter’s manhood tickled his prostate.
“Nah, you say that loud, boy. Say it loud and proud.” Cooter smacked Yancey’s ass hard, reawakening the pain deep inside him. Yancey grunted, his face turning red.
“Cooter!”
“You say my full name, princess. Jethro Wilde. Say that.”
“Jethro Wilde’s cock is in my ass! I’m his bitch! He can do with me-“
He smacked Yancey’s ass again. “I ain’t tell you to say none of that. Yeah, you my bitch. ‘Course you my bitch.” He paused and roared like an angry tiger. He growled at Jacob, who quaked back, “Keep his cheeks separated, man.”
Jacob grunted. He was trying hard to avoid looking like he was uncomfortable. He had been trying to establish himself as a hardcore thug for a long time — he thought he could get Cooter to invite him in on some criminal shit, most likely making meth (that was Jacob’s guess as to what Cooter did when he disappeared every couple days). So Jacob wanted to look like he knew how to do this. Cooter had told him that, in prison, it was normal to give a man a few puffs on a cigarette in exchange for helping to spread his prison bitch’s cheeks and maybe even guide his cock in by hand. Jacob found that difficult to stomach. He only needed to do it once though, he figured, then he could refuse to do it again and no one could say he was too much of a pussy to do it at all.
“Your turn, boy,” Cooter said with a sick smile. He pulled out of Yancey’s ass, wiping his massive cock off on Yancey’s cheeks. There was some brief glancing contact with Jacob’s hand, making Jacob jump back and bite his lip. It was clear that Cooter didn’t think it was such a big deal, however, so Jacob tried to shrug it off.
He wished he could just do oral like Ransom. Jacob enjoyed plowing girls in the ass, but this was a stressful situation. What if he lost his erection and couldn’t get it back?
“You evuh ram a man in the ass?” Cooter asked.
Jacob gulped and shook his head as he wedged his dick into Yancey’s tight hole. Cooter spread his cheeks. He had no compunctions about getting close — he watched Jacob’s dick slide in like it was a science experiment he was deeply interested in. He even grabbed Jacob’s dick and made sure it went in when Jacob felt resistance.
“Damn, man, you touchin’ his dick, you touchin’ it, it’s crazy, you lettin’ that freak do it, I, shit, I am, shit…” Ransom sounded like he was about to burst into hyperventilating laughter again. “Aww, man, shit!” He was closest to the campfire, so the heat from it — and the stress of the situation — made him sweaty and ruddy. His sweat trickled down his body and into Yancey’s mouth.
Cooter grumbled. “Shut up, idiot. I’s just helpin’ his dick in.” But still, his fingers on Jacob’s cock made Jacob feel self-conscious. He grunted, avoiding eye contact with Ransom because he knew Ransom would get him to smile or laugh or something like that. Jacob closed his eyes and tried to focus on the physical sensations of Yancey’s tight ass.
“You can plow me harder,” Yancey said like a sassy bitch. He stuck his tongue out, licking Ransom’s throbbing veiny cockshaft. He slurped up the precum that ran down the side.
“I don’t know if he can,” Cooter said. “Let me at it again, boy, you ain’t doin’ it right.”
“Cooter, I can-“
“Shut up and move,” Cooter said with a snarl. He pushed Jacob out of the way, and for a moment, Yancey’s ass was empty. Then Cooter rammed his dick right back in.
This time Yancey was more used to getting rammed, and his asshole stretched to accommodate Cooter’s cock easily. He moaned. He managed to keep Ransom’s cocktip in his mouth, tasting the precum and enjoying the shocked, beet-red look on Ransom’s big round face.
“See, you gotta ram him hard, man, you gotsta destroy his ass. He ain’t a girl you makin’ love to, see, he a girlyboy you gonna demolish. That’s what they there for,” Cooter said. He dragged Jacob’s head close once more, so Jacob had to once again pretend he wasn’t upset by the taste of Cooter’s hairy chest-sweat trickling into his mouth because his face was jammed up against Cooter’s belly. He could smell Yancey’s ass getting rammed, and he could feel little droplets of what he very much hoped was sweat splashing onto his face. Cooter’s dick was inches from Jacob’s face. “See? Watch it, boy!”
“Yeah, okay,” Jacob said. “You gotta gimme a chance, Cooter. I was gonna ram him plenty hard-“
“Why ain’t you do it?”
Jacob gulped. “I was just… I dunno, man, you surprised me, I was bangin’ that ass pretty hard you know, and I was — I only just got started. I was, you know… rampin’ up-“
“A real man don’t need to ramp up,” Cooter said. He frowned and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Let’s see you do it again. You wanna be ass brothers?”
“What…?” Jacob didn’t know what that was, but he knew he probably didn’t want it. He nodded though, ignoring his own body’s cry to just hurry up and cum so he could quit this.
But it turned out that “ass-brothers” — which Jacob suspected Cooter made up or was just a silly joke that no one took seriously in prison — meant that Jacob kneeled behind Yancey to ram him, while Cooter mounted Yancey from behind and above. That meant Jacob couldn’t even see the person he was plowing, all he could see was Cooter’s big hairy ass in front of his face. When he stuck his dick in, Cooter’s balls touched his shaft, and he could feel Cooter’s precum clinging to his shaft.
They took turns. That’s what being “ass brothers” was. Jacob pushed his dick into Yancey’s hole, then Cooter did, they were supposed to get a rhythm going, but that was more difficult than it might seem.
“See? Now we like brothers,” Cooter said with a laugh. It was a deep, throaty chuckle. Cooter didn’t laugh often, so that was about the most animated laughter Jacob had ever seen from him.
Having nowhere else to put his hands, Jacob kept touching Cooter’s thighs or the side of his asscheeks. He gulped. His skin was hairy and sweaty, and it reminded Jacob what he was doing right now. It was easy to forget that Yancey was a man because he was slim and delicate and smooth, but now Jacob could barely even see him. He just kept getting facefulls of Cooter’s plump and hairy ass.
Cooter let out a loud grunt. He slammed his dick all the way in — he was still taking turns with Jacob, and it was Jacob’s turn, so Cooter rubbed his throbbing, mid-orgasm cock right over Jacob’s shaft — and rammed Yancey one last time. Jacob was glad at first, then saw Cooter pull his dick out just in time to spray his wad right on Jacob’s dick.
“Aw, man, what?!” Jacob groaned. He felt sick looking at cum dripping off his dick. Cooter shot what appeared to be a huge load that just kept on getting bigger, his massive balls spraying more and more until it covered Jacob’s cock. “Ewww, man, Cooter…”
Cooter grunted and wiped his dick off on Yancey’s asscheeks. He laughed and playfully smacked Jacob’s biceps. “What’s wrong, princess? You don’t like gettin’ dirty? You can go make love to some pretty girl anytime you want — assuming you know a pretty girl, which I know you don’t — but if you gonna get down and dirty wit’ me, we gonna do it my way,” Cooter said. “Now that’s called prison-lube, boy, and it’s the best kinda lube there is.”
“Yeah, I mean… I know, sure…” Jacob said. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about the creamy cum clinging to his cockshaft. “It’s just… Okay, no problem. Yeah. Yeah. It’s prolly good lube. For sure.”
But he had only barely got his dick back in Yancey’s tight hole when there was a burst of cummy scent. Ransom got his first jet of cum right on Yancey’s face. Ransom was blushing still, and his eyes were closed. He looked surprised that he was cumming already.
“Don’t waste that, Ransom!” Cooter grunted. He grabbed Ransom’s dick and aimed it right for Jacob’s crotch.
Jacob gulped, gagged and squirmed. Cooter manhandled Ransom’s cock in the middle of his orgasm, making Ransom writhe as his load joined Cooter’s on Jacob’s cockshaft. Jacob felt like shouting, running away, running off to clean his dick off.
No, he told himself, you’re gonna fit in. You gotta do what Cooter does. “Ransom, don’t act like a fuckin’ pussy,” Jacob said. “It’s no big deal.” He rammed his dick all the way into Yancey’s tight ass.
It was much easier this time, since he no longer had Cooter’s big hairy body in front of his face. Jacob watched Yancey’s feminine ass shake as he rammed harder and harder. He had to admit the cum was an effective lubricant, and Jacob managed to slip his dick in and out easily.
He was worried he wouldn’t be able to cum due to stress and anxiety, but that wasn’t an issue — he had been so turned off previously that the lack of other cocks and hairy muscles all around made it easier now. He groaned as his balls crawled up in his sac.
A hot, creamy load sprayed into Yancey’s ass. Yancey moaned. He had been jacking himself off for some time, and he finally allowed himself to shoot his own load onto the forest floor. None of the rednecks noticed. Powerful pangs of climactic bliss shot up Yancey’s spine as Jacob pounded away at his cum-soaked prostate, each thrust of his hips sending a new wave of pleasure through Yancey’s body.
Cooter clapped and hooted a little like an appreciative audience. He clasped Jacob on the shoulder, which smeared his sweat on Jacob’s skin. The biggest load of Jacob’s life filled Yancey’s ass with his seed, so much that it dripped out and onto the forest floor. He could do nothing more than squirm, impaled on Jacob’s dick.
“God damn,” Jacob said with a sigh as he pulled out.
Yancey squirmed and sighed. He collapsed onto the floor. He was a sticky, cummy mess, exactly how he liked to be. He lay there limply, then rolled over and smiled. The three rednecks were all lighting cigarettes and looking over the dirtbike, limp cocks dangling — none of them wanted to be the self-conscious one, so they had all eschewed re-dressing. Yancey didn’t mind that at all.
He went to them, touched Ransom’s plump, jiggling ass and giggled when he yelped. “Hope you boys enjoy the dirtbike,” Yancey said, blushing as he stroked Ransom’s hairy ass. “I hope you enjoy using it as much I enjoyed you paying for it.”
They blushed and mumbled responses. Now that all that was over, they didn’t really want to have anything to do with Yancey. They just wanted to play with their dirtbike and ignore him, and then not ever think about this again.