The Man with the Jeep

By DurtyRiter

Published on Mar 5, 2022

Gay

This chapter includes male sex. If this is unappealing or illegal in your location, please skip this chapter.

Please consider supporting Nifty so we can continue to have this great resource of stories to enjoy for a long time to cum!

-DurtyRiter


The Man with the Jeep

Chapter 32

It was a somewhat cloudy day, but not too cold. Andrew stood waist-deep in a river of remarkably warm water. He couldn't remember how he got there or why. It was nice though. He could feel occasional gusts of wind on his bare chest as he stood there looking around at the pebbled beach beside the water and the overhanging trees lending an atmosphere of seclusion to the scene. This was an enchanting spot, and he drank it all in.

A larger gust of wind swooped over him and buffeted him slightly. He shivered a moment before his attention was drawn downward, where he saw a medium-sized fish had latched onto him and was trying to swallow his dick. The more fervently it tried, the harder and longer Andrew became until Andrew was amazed the fish hadn't given up. It was clearly a tenacious bugger, and just sucked all the harder on its prize. He was lucky it didn't have teeth, that was for sure.

He was surprised at his own detachment. In fact, it didn't seem in the least bit extraordinary that this was happening, and something in the back of his mind told him that was significant. He had no idea why it would be though. It felt so good. Especially the tongue. Wait, tongue? Fish don't have tongues, do they? That could only mean one thing...

Andrew woke with a jerk, the head of his cock stabbing the back of a surprised John's throat and causing him to sputter a bit.

He never stopped sucking.

Andrew's eyes took a moment to focus before he took in the beautiful sight of John's cock and balls dangling above his face. Well, the balls were dangling. The cock not so much, as it stretched out firm and proud. He didn't even need to think about what to do next!

His tongue stretched out and lapped at the furry eggs, causing them to twitch and bob under his ministrations. He loved the taste and smell of them as he did his best to lather them up with his spit.

John still hadn't missed a beat and was bobbing up and down at Andrew's crotch clearly determined to claim all the morning load that Andrew had in him.

When he felt he had attended the low-hanging fruit properly, he took John's tool and pulled it downward until he could get his lips around it and slide it down his throat.

John grunted again but maintained his onslaught while Andrew began doing the same thing to him. John's slicked balls mashed up into Andrew's nose as he deep-throated the heavy cock above him. The smell was intoxicating, and it didn't take long before Andrew could feel the rush approaching. He tapped John to warn him, but John's only response was to tighten his lip lock and increase his suction. In no time, Andrew was spewing his seed into the hungry throat around his pole. He couldn't help grunting as he shot his load, which seemed to be the only trigger John needed to follow suit. He shot burst after burst into Andrew's mouth, who was quick to swallow every last bit. They were both quickly out of juice, but neither let go for a while.

Finally, John gently released Andrew's cock and raised his hips to extract his own from Andrew. He turned around and gave Andrew a long deep kiss. When he ended it, he locked eyes with Andrew.

"Good morning, Lover Boy," he said with a smile. "How did you sleep?"

"I woke up once, but otherwise good."

"Did I snore too loud?"

"No, I just randomly wake up sometimes. It's all good."

"Ah."

"What time is it?"

"You know, I don't actually know," he chuckled. "I woke up with my hand around your morning wood and immediately got dickstracted."

"My badÑ" Andrew cut himself short when he saw a brief glimmer ofÉsomething in John's expression. "I'm not apologizing," he added hurriedly. "I was trying to be funny."

"Glad to hear it," John said, relaxing again.

Did it really bother John that much for Andrew to apologize? Well, he HAD been making a big deal out of Andrew's not doing that all the time. Andrew clearly had to try to lay low on that. If he could. He had to admit it was an unconscious habit.

"I'm trying, honestly."

"That's all I ask," John assured him. Then he changed the subject. "So, what do you want to do for breakfast? Order in or go out?"

"HmmmÉ" Andrew began.

John just fastened him with an unflinching gaze and waited.

"What do you feel like?" Andrew asked him.

"Nice try, bucko! It's your option today."

"I'll go along with it today, but that means you have to pick next time."

"Fair enough! So, what's your choice?"

Andrew thought for a minute.

"I'm kind of in the mood for waffles, so I'd rather eat those there."

"All right then, time to get your ass out of bed," John replied as he grabbed the bedcover and flung it over his shoulder, leaving a startled boyfriend completely exposed on the bed.

"Eep!" exclaimed Andrew. "Brr!"

"So get up!" John teased.

"I'm moving!"

He grabbed some clean clothes and headed straight for the shower.

After they had both showered, dressed, and repacked their bags, they prepared to head out. As they waited for the lift to come back up from below, Andrew looked over the treehouse again.

"This is a cool little place. It is so comfortable, like a relaxing resort."

"Thanks, we do try, you know," John replied with a wink.

"Well, you succeed," Andrew assured him. "Now let's go eat. I'm starving!"

They clambered aboard the lift and rode it down to ground level with Andrew not even noticing the sway that had alarmed him when he first rode it up just 36 hours before.

Within minutes, they were back in a booth at Mabel's with menus in their hands and their boisterous attendant was shuffling among the other tables of the crowded diner.

Andrew decided which waffles to get and looked around the place again.

Unlike their last visit, the place was hopping today, and Mabel was a whirling dervish of activity seeing to every need of every table simultaneously.

"Does she need help?" Andrew asked.

"She says no whenever I ask. She says it's because she wants to ensure the `personal touch' as she calls it. In reality though, I think she would rather not split her tips. She probably makes more money from this place than the rest of us combined, but I don't mindÑas long as it doesn't take its toll on her. Plus, as much as I love her, she would probably be tough to work with on a daily basis. She has a very stringent code she operates under, and she would never tolerate anyone who can't abide by it," John said with a smile. "But I do like to keep tabs on her and make sure it's not more than she can handle. I'm thinking seriously of at least getting her a busboy."

"She certainly seems to have everything in hand even as busy at it is."

"Looks like it," John agreed. "I don't know how she does it."

She was back just a moment later to take their orders and with the briefest of friendly bluster was back on her way to place the order.

"So do you already have an agenda for the day?" Andrew asked.

"I have an idea, why? Is there something you want to do in particular?"

"Nope, not at all. I was just curious."

"I was thinking maybe we could just go for a scenic drive, if that sounds good to you."

"Sure!"

"Cool! I know a fun little road with some great views and a good lunch place at the end."

"Sounds perfect."

"Yeah, it should be good."

They continued to chat until Mabel swung by with the food.

"Here you go, boys! Let me know if you need anything else and I'll be happy to oblige you, I'm sure. In the meantime, enjoy the food and don't just swallow it whole. I know how you guys like to do things, but take my word for it and slow down! My word! It's like everything has to be in fast forward these days for everybody as if the journey isn't the best part. No wonder the world is stressed outÑit's forgotten how to breathe!"

And off she dashed once again.

Andrew leaned forward so his voice wouldn't carry.

"Do you think she realizes how fast she's moving?"

"Absolutely clueless, I'm sure," John chuckled.

They took Mabel's advice and ate at a slower pace than normal, enjoying each other's company and conversation until they found themselves back in John's convertible an hour and a half later. "That was the best breakfast I can remember in a long while," Andrew said as he clipped in his seatbelt.

"It was good," John agreed. "Now let's see if I can add more goodness to it."

He eased the car out of the campground and onto the highway, turning away from town. It was just a minute or so before they passed what Andrew recognized as the driveway they had taken on their previous excursions and then on into the mountains.

After a while, John turned off the main drag onto a smaller road. It turned out this new course was a winding one with lots of ups and downs, frequently giving the impression that the road disappeared in front of them.

They didn't talk much for a while, as Andrew recognized John needed to concentrate on the road ahead. Andrew was a little surprised that he wasn't feeling car sick with all the dips and turning, but with the wind rushing through his hair and the scenic surroundings, he was actually having a ball. It had the feel of adventure about it that made the entire drive fun. He had been on several simulator rides of all kinds, of course, but this was far and away a more engrossing experience than any of those. Every now and then, the tress would break off and Andrew would find himself beside a small river or looking out over a bare precipice as the road skirted the edge of a steep drop. It was all beautiful. There was nothing to detract from drinking it all in as they traveled. John had a sure hand on the wheel and a very poised driving style. It slowly dawned on Andrew that he was never nervous while John was driving, which was odd. Nearly every time he rode in the passenger seatÑor "panic seat" as he called itÑof any vehicle, he was always a nervous wreck and had to force himself not to be the classic back seat driver. But not with John. Sure, John exuded confidence from every pore, but so did a sixteen-year-old with the ink still wet on a shiny new driver's license. The difference was that his control matched his self-assuredness.

"It's like you know this road like the back of your hand," Andrew commented.

"Well, this isn't the first time I've driven it for sure," John replied. "So I know how the route goes. In fact, keep your eyes out for buffalo on the right coming up here in a little bit. But really, I've had some actual driver's training."

"I took that too, so I could get a discount on insurance when I first started driving."

"That's good," John laughed. "But I'm talking more than that. Back in the day, I had a few buddies who autocrossed, and they dragged me out and got me hooked on it for a while."

"Autocrossed?"

"Yeah, it's basically racing. They'd set up a bunch of cones in a parking lot somewhere and then see who could get through it the quickest. I was driving my old GTI at the time, and I had a blast." "I would be too scared of messing up my car to ever try that."

"It's not that kind of racing. In autocross, there is only one car on the track at a time unless it is a really long course. It's all about you, your car, and trying to be quicker."

"I see," responded Andrew noncommittally.

"Anyway, that's where I got my start. Not long after that, I had this hare-brained notion to be a limo driver, so I took a training course on doing that too. Between the two, I like to think I'm a decent driver."

"Limo driver? Really?"

"I thought why not? I love cars, I like most people, and that way I could meet some famous people or go to fancy places that I normally wouldn't be allowed to."

"Well, I suppose that makes sense," Andrew admitted.

"That's what I thought. It turned out to not be that at all though. It didn't pay very well, a limo is more like a bus than a `real' car, most of the people were drunk, stressed, or privileged, and I rarely got to go anywhere interesting, so I dropped it."

"Aw!"

"Hey, I learned things, so it's all good."

That was when the vista to the right opened up again. They were on a little rise above the river and there was a broad plain on the other side. It was like a small sea of green, but it had lots of dark dots clustered in places throughout. One of these clusters was right on the water's edge and close enough for Andrew to clearly see that they were indeed buffalo. Or were they bison? He didn't know the difference, but whatever they were called, they looked like they had been plucked from some Old West photos.

Andrew was amazed.

"I thought those were extinct!" he exclaimed.

"Not yet," laughed John. "Though they came really close for a while. They aren't herding across the plains like they used to for sure, but they still exist. I like them."

Andrew was still kind of awestruck even as the road swept them away and back into the trees.

"I thought they were like humpbacked cows or something before, but those were huge!"

"I know, right?"

"Wow."

They chattered on about other creatures that might or might not be extinct until they pulled up to a somewhat rickety-looking old house with a big painted sign in front proclaiming it to be the "Journey's Inn."

"Here we are," John announced as he pulled off the road to park.

It looked awfully small to be an inn as far as Andrew could tell, and old enough to collapse at any moment, but he dubiously followed John inside regardless.

Once inside, the entry had a distinctly Victorian vibe to it with intricately carved dark wood in the banister of the surprisingly dressy staircase set slightly back to the left. In the center of the room hung a large ornate chandelier that managed to be bright and still give off a warm and welcoming tone. On either side were large polished wood doorways with another one farther down to the right, all no doubt hiding pocket doors within their substantial widths. The walls were covered in a deep red fabric that looked like it could be textured velvet. What you could see of the wallpaper, at any rate, because there was a dense collection of old framed paintings and photographs adorning them from floor to ceiling.

To the left was an equally decorated sitting room (the word "parlor" actually sprang to mind) stuffed with antique furniture in predominately green and blue hues.

To the right was a room outfitted with a large counter that could have easily passed for a bar but for the lack of any visible alcohol whatsoever. The bar so dominated the room that it took a moment before Andrew could appreciate the wall-to-wall black and white photographs and the small but stunning chandelier.

Behind the counter stood a man slightly shorter than Andrew, and nearly as thin. His hair had been slicked straight back over his head and he sported one of the best handlebar mustaches Andrew had ever seen. He looked familiar somehow, though Andrew was certain he'd never met him before. He definitely would have remembered someone this distinctive! He wore a light blue striped dress shirt with white cuffs and a stand-up collar along with thin black suspenders and sleeve garters. He held himself very straight and was the very image of prim and proper.

But despite all the formality about him, Andrew wasn't the least surprised when he seemed to let his guard down a bit when he saw John. Everyone did.

"Johnny!" he smiled. "What brings you by today?"

"Hey Brady!" John answered with a smile. "We were just out for a drive and thought we'd stop by and see if we might trouble you folks for a bite to eat."

"Of course, of course!" Brady answered. "And will it just be the two of you today?"

"Yes, please. Brady, I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Andrew," he said as he gestured toward him. "Andrew, this is my cousin Brady."

"Boyfriend? My stars! It is certainly a pleasure to meet you, Andrew."

"Good to meet you too," Andrew replied with a smile.

Brady smiled back for a moment before he came around the counter. "As far as lunch goes, would you prefer the dining room, the nook, or the patio?"

"It's nice outside," John said. "Let's go with the patio."

"As you wish. Right this way, please."

He led them through a smaller doorway to the left Andrew hadn't even noticed and into what was clearly a formal dining room covered in wood paneling and ornate plasterwork. Instead of a large table in the center, though, there was a smaller table set in each corner of the room.

Brady led them between these and toward the grand windows, which he swung open as they approached. Outside was a charming little patio that had been carved into the slight rise of the land and nearly obscured from the outside by growing vines and plants. It was cozy and very pretty.

"Have a wonderful lunch, gentlemen," Brady. "Your server will be with you shortly."

"Thank you, Brady," John acknowledged.

Brady gave a little bow and then went back the way he came.

After Brady had closed the door, Andrew turned to John.

"He's a little stuffy, isn't he?"

John grinned. "It seems that way, doesn't it? That's Brady for you. As a kid, his hero was always Doc Holliday, so it makes me happy that he's found a way to sort of be him without the shooting part."

The doors to the dining room opened again a few moments later and emitted a pretty strawberry blonde girl of about 16. Her dress was a hybrid of Victorian and calico farm style that went perfectly with the inn, but unlike Brady, she was at once warm and engaging and Andrew liked her instantly.

"Uncle Johnny!" she said, running over to him for a hug. "It's been forever!"

"I know it!" he agreed. "How's it going?"

"I'm still here, obviously, but great, really!"

"Glad to hear it! You're going to be a senior next year, right?"

"Yep! I'm nervous, but I also can't wait!"

"I bet," John chuckled. "How is everyone else?"

"Mom's fine like always, and the boys... Well, they're boys, so how would I know?"

"Fair enough," he laughed. "Grace, this is my boyfriend, Andrew."

"Boyfriend?!? Finally!" She turned to Andrew. "I'm so glad you're here! He's needed you for so long, it's not even funny. For real."

"Hey!" John protested.

"Well, it's true," she retorted.

Andrew laughed. "I'm happy to be here too."

She beamed at him before she shot John a sassy look.

"Oops! I almost forgot, and Dad would kill me if I do... Here are your menus, gentlemen," she said in a near-perfect imitation of Brady's tone and manner. "What can I get you from the bar while you look at the menu?"

John's eyes twinkled as he requested a ginger ale.

Andrew asked for a glass of orange juice.

"An ale for you," she nodded at John. "And a Sunrise without tequila for you," she said to Andrew with an impudent grin.

"Perfect," he agreed with a laugh.

"Of courseÉsir!" she said with great drama and then darted back through the doors.

"She's kinda crazy," Andrew said.

"Oh yeah," John agreed. "She's her mother's daughter for sure. I don't know how Brady snagged a girl like her, but it seems to work and I'm glad he did. I bet he expected all his kids to be just like him, but of course, it didn't exactly work out that way. Never does. I wouldn't call his boys hellions or anything, but they do tend to be a bit rambunctious sometimes."

"Poor Brady," Andrew laughed. "It must drive him crazy to have so much chaos in the house."

"Only on the outside.' John chuckled. "I know he secretly loves it. And he has ways of coping and bringing discipline when they need it. He used to be more like them when he was a kid."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. If he acts like he's always got a stick up his butt, it's just because I put it there..."


What do you think happens next? :)

Check out my other posts! These ones are not stories I've written, but they are uncopyrighted pulps from the '80s that I enjoy and wanted to share before they are lost forever:

"The Battlefield" in the Historical section

"My Favorite Freshman" in the College section

"Alaskan Huskies" in the Encounters section

Next: Chapter 33


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