The Hitchhiker

Published on Apr 19, 1993

Gay

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The Hitchhiker. Adapted by Rick, Sysop of Southern Knight

I was driving south toward Birmingham, and had only left my girl friend and her parents ten miles back, when, rounding a corner, I saw a hitchhiker standing alongside the road - a farm boy, evidently; tall, lean, bib overalls (in the days when they weren't fashionable, only farm clothes) snug over a good body. What would you do? I stopped. He got in, and we began talking: Where was he going? Into the next town, which I knew to be the county seat. Where was I going? Florida; what's it like? So I tell him about the white beaches and the palm trees and presently he said, I surely do wish I could go with you. So I said, why not? I'd love to have you come along. Do you really mean it? Sure- but you'd better tell your folks if you're going. Naah, they won't care. We don't have a phone anyway and they'll know I'm all right. So, to clear the decks, I said, of course, if I take you, you'll have to do everything I say. Oh sure, yeah, of course. I mean "everything". (Cautiously) Like what?

Well, like, have you ever had a blowjob?

What's that? A blow job.

You never had your cock sucked?

No, but I think I'd like to try.

So, I pulled off the road and into a quarry and got his overalls unsnapped and down (I like to see it all) and surprise! he confirmed my opinion that skinny people are hung! a neat 8 inches of cock, big and beginning to stiffen.

I was very gentle. I got those coveralls down on the floor, and ran my hand down his leg and under his balls and pushed the foreskin back to see what might be in store for me. All the time this monster was getting out of hand, so to speak, and I began to wonder if I could take it. Getting my hands behind his hips, I pulled him to me as I knelt on the floor and took that 8 inch cock between my lips, gave it a little tongue motion which made him squirm, and then stuffed it all down as far as I could it into my throat. Quick, up for air, and then down again. He pushed his hips forward and got his hands over my ears and pulled my head forward and literally yelled, "Jesus,I'm cumming!!!" and I choked for one of the few times in my life, swallowing and licking and going back down for more, literally bathing my mouth in hot, sweet cum. And he didn't go soft. But he kind of pulled me up and said, "Is that a blow job?" I said, yes, that's a blow job. And how was it? God, he said, that's better than fuc king. You want to do it again? Well, I guess I wanted to and he was ready, so back down I went. Took longer, but the same thing again, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!".

I didn't think he was quite ready for some other things I had in mind, so we drove on, and between northern Alabama and Tampa, we stopped five more times and I blew him. He loved it, and sometimes he would cum twice, although toward the end of the trip, he had a little trouble cumming quickly and easily.

Just before we got into Birmingham, we picked up another hitchhiker, and I discovered he had not long been out of prison somewhere near here. He looked about 25, so, knowing that he must have had something going on in prison, I asked him bluntly, "Would you like to get your rocks off?" He looked pretty startled, believe me, but he said yes, so we pulled off into a side road and I got his pants down while Curtis watched. And while nothing special in the cock department, he had a long foreskin which intrigued me because I have one also, and you don't see many these days. Anyway, he came easily and we drove on. Quite a trip? and the nice thing is that Curtis stayed with me for a couple of months, and I taught him fucking (giving and taking) but he never wanted to try cocksucking. He told me about having fucked the mules around the farm, and jerking off with friends and cousins, but apparently they had never been introduced to more sophisticated sex. He got homesick after a while, and one day he b ought a bus ticket and headed back to Alabama. Curtis was always very warm and considerate; not very sexy, but he began to really get into the swing of it by the time he left.

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