====================================================== Hello everyone, this is "Roadmovie", I hope you enjoy it. I'm Williehewes@yahoo.com, you can mail me if you like it, or not, or if you just want to talk. For more stories like this one go to: http://www.geocities.com/willie_hewes ======================================================
Roadmovie
He was crazy, you see.
Or I was.
Well, one of us was. At the least.
It was halfway in the morning. I had made him breakfast, which we ate in bed, 'cause the sheets had to be changed anyway. Now, finally, we were both showered and dressed, and had landed on the large black couch in his living-room. Was it a Tuesday? A Saturday? It had been a long time since I stopped caring.
"What do you wanna do today?" He asked with the impish smile I had fallen for so quickly. We discussed possibilities light-heartedly, from things involving strawberries and cream to going to the beach to play with kites.
"I know," he said suddenly, "let's go buy a car." I thought he was still joking, but he wasn't. "Seriously, let's buy a convertible and drive around for a while. It's great weather..." You see, he wasn't only crazy, he was also rich. Too rich, really. When he dressed up in drag, it was in a Versaci. When he was bored, he flew to London for the weekend. And when he and his new boyfriend had nothing to do, he bought a new car to drive him around for a while. Ridiculous? Yes. Should I have protested? Yeah right, as if you would have.
The car-salesman pulled up his eyebrows higher with every strange comment that we made.
"This one's kinda sexy," I said.
"Does this one come in green?"
"Green!?"
"Yeah. Camouflage, for in the woods." We were laughing so much it must have seemed like we were drunk.
"He's got a nice ass, though." I sat down on the back-end of blue Corvette.
"Yeah, just the right height." The salesman rolled his eyes. I looked at my broadly smiling millionaire and thought: this is the greatest time.
Broad, empty road, blue sky, wilderness stretching for miles round. American dreaming. It was warm, and we had taken off our shirts. I waved cheerfully at the few cars we passed. People waved back hesitantly or frowned at me through their windshields. He was talking about a beach holiday he had as a kid.
"Shit it's so hot," I said. Leather stuck to my back. He was hot too. I could see little drops of sweat all over his delicious bronzed chest. I took off my shoes and socks. Then I took off my pants and threw them in the back. He looked on without comment, never keeping his eyes off the road for long. I sank back in my seat and slung my right leg out over the side of the car. He started to drive faster. I could feel the wind between my toes. I giggled.
"It tickles!" He laughed.
"Ah, wind in your toes." He raked his hand through his blonde hair. "This is the real life."
I looked up at his face. So princely. He was wearing a silver-framed pair of shades. They gave his a smart, successful look. Just what he was. Smart and succesful. A drop of sweat ran from his hair down the side of his face. He looked at me for a second, then back at the road. He licked his lips. On both sides, the landscape raced by at 60 miles an hour. The radio played The Thong Song, and I started singing along. He didn't join me, but kept stealing long glances at me. A Volvo passed us from the opposite direction and honked his horn. I got up from my seat to yell at him. Standing up, the wind blew even harder, pulled my hair into my face and played along my shoulders and neck. I loved it, and climbed up on my seat, holding on to the bar that supported the roof. The wind was so strong my eyes started to water, but it felt great. Refreshing. Exiting.
"I'm king of the woooorld!" I shouted. He started to laugh uncontrollably. "Woohoohoo!" I laughed along with him, holding on with one hand, and playing with his hair with the other. "Jack, I'm flying!" Jack looked up with a rather sarcastic smile.
"Some king of the world you are, in your underwear!"
"What do you mean!" I couldn't stop shouting, that's how great I felt.
"You're in your underwear, you big sissy!" he shouted back. "How kingly is that? Come on, you have to go all the way, lose the shorts!" I looked around. The road was rather empty, but not deserted. There was a station-wagon ahead of us that we were going to overtake. I let myself drop back into my seat. I looked at him, his shortish blond hair played by the wind, the slim shades and cocky smile. A rivulet of sweat ran down between his tits into his belly button. I didn't care about the station-wagon. I arched my back and slipped out of my boxer shorts. I was going to throw them in the back with the rest of my clothes, but he took them from my hand and just threw them up in the air.
"Woops, underpants on the road!" I stood up again, fighting the wind and holding on to the windshield.
"Free Willy!" I swung my hips from side to side, letting my sweaty dick swing freely between my thighs. I really felt like the king of the world, racing through the great outdoors, my hair trailing behind my head, the wind playing with my nipples, making them hard. Tears from the wind rolled down my face. I shouted his name.
"Yes?"
"I love you!" He laughed. He smacked my bottom, and called back,
"I bet you feel really good right now."
We finally overtook the station-wagon. I waved my little friend at the driver, who tried his best not to look. There were kids on the back seat. I sat down again, and stretched my arms wide. He patted my thigh, and turned his head to look back at the car we had passed.
"Yeah, I feel great, really." I said, very seriously. I took another long look at him. Everything about this man exited me, his strong hands, his arms, his chest. His legs were packed in his tight jeans now, but that seemed to make them only more enticing. His newly pumped up pectorals were shiny with sweat, adorned with two small, perfectly round little nipples. And his sweat! I could smell his sweat now, faintly, the maddening smell of sex, of fucking for hours.
We just drove on like that for a while, me sitting naked with my legs apart, he with his eyes on the road. We passed other cars and a few buildings. I cared less and less. I kept looking at him, searching for his smell on the wind, getting more and more exited. I was getting hard slowly, and wondered if he realised this. Finally, when I felt I had to either get dressed again and forget about it or jerk off right there in the car, his right hand left the wheel. He didn't immediately grab me, pretended at first that he just wanted to wipe the sweat on his jeans. He rubbed his leg for a while. He still pretended he didn't see me, and so I started to look out at the road too, as if I didn't care, as if I didn't see how he traced his index finger along the inside of his thigh a little bit higher every time.
Then, suddenly, he grabbed my dick and pulled it hard. I jumped, wincing with pain. He could be very dominant sometimes, like when he fucked me really hard and told me to stop whining. Or when he handled my half-soft dick a little too roughly, like now.
"Ouch," I said softly, although it didn't really hurt anymore now. I got hard again, faster this time.
"Yeah, babe, let it grow for me," he said. "Let him get nice and hard..." I had no trouble doing that. He was handling me with care now, expert care. He was speeding, 80 miles an hour, jerking my cock and keeping the car on the road with his other hand. I looked at the sky, and closed my eyes. I thought of his cock, hard, shiny, as I had seen it last night. The long shaft, soft to the touch but hard as a rock, the perfect, mushroom shaped head with two tiny lips that drooled pre-cum onto my skin... I stretched my arms out and let the wind play through my fingers, as it played with my hair, along my shoulders and down my chest. I put one hand in his neck and gently pulled his hair. He spat in his hand and spread his spit over my shaft. He played with me, traced his fingers ever-so-lightly over the burning skin of my head, teased me with his soft, short fingers.
A truck came at us from the other side, I realised the driver would be able to see straight into our car at what was going on. I winked at him when we passed at each other, but I don't think he saw it, we were going too fast. We seemed to be constantly gaining speed. I looked at him again, the bulge in his jeans that betrayed his own erection. I stroked his hair, and took off his sunglasses. Finally I could see his smiling, blue eyes. I gasped. He stroked me with long, quick jerks, massaging my bloodfilled cock. I heard myself moan and closed my eyes.
"Are you gonna cum?" he asked, "Are you gonna shoot at the sky? Feels great to be naked, doesn't it?" I moaned a reply. "Powerful. King of the world. You're the king of my world, Ray."
"Oooh!" I was going to cum. Couldn't hold back, didn't want to.
"Yes! Come on Ray, come for me! Let me see you cream!" He started to stroke even faster. I heard the engine roar, the car driving so fast it seemed we were flying. And I exploded, my muscles tensed, my head thrown back. I shot my boiling load of cum straight up, moaning and writhing in my chair. It flew all over the place, on my naked belly, my legs, the car seat.
"Jeez, Ray, you're leaking all over the place!" he said smiling, still milking me as fast as he could. I could only answer with loud moaning, shaking with the last spasms of my orgasm. Finally I was spent, and hung limply in my seat, my arm still on his shoulders. He wiped off his hand on his jeans and slowed down again. I didn't know how fast he had been driving, and I didn't care. I only knew that I felt great, and that I wanted to stay with him for a long long time.