Roadside ASSistance
An evening out with friends turns into an extraordinary evening of wild, muddy sex when Chris Saturday's truck breaks down on the way home. Rain, mud, and two libidos in overdrive.
Five, four, three, two, one…game! State wins,” I shouted; the bar erupted in cheers. State beat Lane by a field goal, which meant we were headed to the championship game for a three-peat baby.
The bar was crowded with State fans, and a few Lane buttholes were scattered about. I can’t say that I understand the game of football that well, but I support my team. After moving to the South, football became a part of my life. Anywhere you went in Alabama, you were asked, State or Lane? You had to pick an allegiance.
So, why the South? My dad got this once-in-a-lifetime job that uprooted the entire family from Vermont. Leaving all my friends behind was hard to do. I even contemplated living with my Gran until I finished high school. But moving to Great Plains, Alabama in my sophomore year wasn’t so bad after all. Rounds were purchased, and the celebration had just begun. “Chris!” someone shouted from across the room. I turned, trying to make out who it could be.
“Chris Saturday,” the voice yelled out again. With my beer in hand, I turned and caught a hand waving frantically in the air. It could only be one person, Justin. Justin was my old roomie from freshman year. He’d decided that college wasn’t for him and became a private entertainment dancer, a stripper. After a year of stripping, he opened his own club. Two more followed.
Justin was from here, so he had a thick accent — not the counterfeit Paula Deen kind, but the type of true southern drawl that would make a guy like me have a raging hard-on.
“Long time no see.”
“You exaggerate too much. We saw each other last week at Kellie’s party,” I said, giving him a playful jab to the stomach.
“I know, but it seemed like longer. I’ve been so gosh darn busy. I think I’m getting that disease that’s been going around.”
I looked at Justin in amazement. The things that came out of his mouth were unbelievable. I sat back down on the stool to brace myself. “What?” I said, trying to contain my laughter.
“Ah, that celebrity exhaustion disease. You know Kenny James, who won that singing competition on TV?” he asked. I hunched my shoulders. I didn’t watch that crap.
“Chris, the fresh voice from Nashville? Anyway, he came down with a case and had to cancel three shows,” Justin said with a puppy dog face.
Justin wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he meant well. His folks were smart enough to hire a business manager for his business to take care of the important stuff.
“You better take it easy, buddy. I hear there isn’t a cure,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. Justin furrowed his brow and nodded in agreement. “I know, right?”
Before I came to State, I was a pure virgin. I thought of myself as being asexual. I didn’t have any desire to be with anyone, male or female. I was focused on graduating at the top of my class, scoring higher on the SATs, and getting a full scholarship. It never crossed my mind that I might be gay, or maybe I was just in denial. Luckily, I had Justin to introduce me to a new world, a world full of sexy men. After a few more drinks and laughs than I could count, it was time to hit the road.
Though the irresponsible Chris would have loved to stay and whipped a few asses in shuffleboard, I had to work in about 8 hours, and I needed my beauty rest. My granny always said the night air ages you quicker; that stuck with me, so I always tried to make it in at a responsible hour.
The drive home from the city was a long one. On a beautiful late fall night, you could hear the cicadas singing and the all the night sounds you couldn’t hear in a busy congested city. Though the commute is a bitch, it’s damn peaceful. Every so often you’d pass a car, maybe two. If you ever ran out of gas, you were shit-out-of-luck because the nearest gas station was 15 miles away.
The roads were another story. They’re shit—potholes, high grass on both sides, and disappearing yellow. If one weren’t used to driving these roads daily, it’d be a deadly commute. A popping noise came from the rear. I pulled over to the shoulder to see what had happened. Just my luck — of all nights, I had a blow-out. The rear driver’s side tire committed suicide with just eight miles to my apartment.
This was a new truck, and I had no idea where the spare tire was, and I’d never changed a tire in my life. Come to think of it, I’d never had a flat tire in all my 21 years on this earth. How hard could it be to change a tire? I’d seen it done many times on TV, but this was real life. I ran back up to the front and grabbed my phone to call roadside assistance.
Forty minutes had passed, and still no sign of the tow truck. I didn’t like the idea of owning a gun. My dad insisted I carry some kind of equalizer, as he called it. It’s made of a shortened 4x4, wrapped in heavy chains, and topped off with copious amounts of barbed wire. I was ready to handle anyone or anything that decided they wanted to pop off.
Bright lights blinked ahead; that was the signal I was told to look for by the dispatcher. Just in case, I had my hand firmly wrapped around my equalizer, ready to pounce if need be.
The truck made a U-turn and pulled up behind my Tahoe.
“Mr. Saturday? I’m Anthony Ashley with Ashley Towing,” he said with a deep, velvet voice. His southern accent was a complete turn on. I couldn’t help but check out his package through my window. Those jeans fitted him well, snug in all the right places.
“Can I see your ID, Mr. Ashley?” As he reached for his wallet, I noticed his bulge. His shirt was ruffled up in the front, giving me a sneak peek of his undies—he was a briefs man. “Thanks. I just wanted to make sure. You can’t be too cautious these days,” I said, handing his ID back.
“Totally understand no worries. Tonight’s my night off from murdering and robbing,” he said jokingly.
“Okay, a little awkward.”
“Of course, I’m kidding. It’s my horrible attempt at trying to be funny. My momma always told me to stick to fixing stuff and leave the jokes to someone else,” he said as the color in his cheeks turned.
“You’d be wise to take her advice.”
He made his way to the rear of the car to check to see what exactly had happened; it gave me a perfect view of his ass as I spied through the side window. I could feel my jeans tighten as he surveyed the damage, bending, stooping, and lying on the ground getting dirty.
He shot a look in my direction; I diverted my eyes to the front, hoping he didn’t spot me checking out his assets. I glanced up in the rearview mirror for a second helping. He dusted himself off and quickly sprinted to the driver’s side. Folding his arm on the door, he tipped his fitted cap up, showing off his beautiful gray-hazel eyes.
“I’m going to have to jack ya,” he said with a smirk.
“Do you want me to get off —I mean get out —of the car?” I said, burying my head in my steering wheel. I was embarrassed.
Anthony sprinted to his truck to grab his gear. I wouldn’t mind if he did get me off. I’d give it freely. All he had to do was take it. I was horny. Maybe I drank too much. I hadn’t done anything in months.
I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, trying to fight the urges. Anthony’s bulky equipment didn’t seem to present a challenge. His muscles flexed underneath his gray athletic shirt as he schlepped his gear to my truck.
His jeans were stained from lying on the ground, and dirt lingered on his forearms. His scent was arousing a woodsy/spice smell.
I felt helpless with Anthony doing all the work. “Something I can help with. I feel like an idiot just standing here watching you,” I said, kneeling beside him.
“No worries. Let me do all the work. You sit back and relax,” he said, attaching the jack underneath the truck.
With each pump of the jack, the truck inched higher. He grunted as he pushed and pulled the jack lever, oozing sex. The top half of Anthony’s shirt was covered in sweat. Even at night, it could be unbearable when the temperature meshed with the humidity. He ruffled the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head.
Anthony was a product of meat and potatoes. He wiped the excess sweat from his chest and back. I pictured myself toweling him off with my tongue. I’d be careful not to miss a spot. I had a perfect view from the back.
I sat on a nearby patch of grass and watched Anthony perform for me, silently giving directions. My hormones were raging; I could feel myself becoming intoxicated by the mere presence of Anthony. No matter how hard I tried, the guy downstairs was eager to get out and play. I wasn’t thinking with my big head anymore. I needed a release.
I decided to make my move.
“You must work out?” I said, closing my eyes and thinking what a cheesy way that was to start. But it worked. A large clink sounded as he pitched his wrench in his tool bag.
“Not really. Doing this a couple of times a day, seven days a week, is a workout,” he said, searching in his tool bag.
“I bet your girlfriend hates it when you have to go out on calls in the middle of the night.”
“Well, maybe, if I had one,” he said, shifting his gaze.
“You know, you’re terrible at flirting,” he said, walking towards me, his hands covered in soot.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I protested.
“Well, your dick seems to think otherwise,” he said, pointing down to my bulge.
I instantly grabbed my cock, trying to shield what evidence I could. He moved closer, and I retreated backward. He’d been sucking on a piece of hard candy. I could smell it. He stood there with his hazel gray eyes, looking into mine intensely, waiting for a response. I had nothing. I was thunderstruck. He rolled the candy around in his mouth. “You know, you need to let go of all this sexual frustration you have pent up inside,” he said, reaching for my shoulders.
As he massaged my shoulder, I could feel the tension leave my body. He moved behind me, massaging deeper as he walked down the center of my back.
“You like that,” he said, nibbling on my neck. I closed my eyes, and he massaged me as I rolled my neck.
“I think I-” I stuttered, unable to find my words.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked, moving to my earlobe, biting tenderly.
“P.E. second period. You were a sophomore.”
“Sophomore P.E., second period?” I said to myself, trying to remember. “Mr. Tony! You’re Mr. Tony?”
He nodded.
Yeah, you were one of the aides for Coach King,” I said as the memories began rushing back. “Yep, that was a while ago. It’s OK. I was wondering if you’d remember me on your own,” he said, turning me towards him.
“You look different, in a good way.”
Anthony had come to my rescue a few times. Though we never had long conversations, he was always kind to me.
“Wow, small world, it’s good to see another person from Butler,” I said, playfully fist-bumping his shoulder.
“Do you still have those P.E. shorts?” he mused. My eyes bulged. I thought I had misheard him, but no, he said what I thought he said.
“I wouldn’t call them shorts. They were more like underwear,” I said, thinking back. “But yeah, I have them.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” he said, propping his leg on an old tree stump, resting his arms on his leg. I wanted him to come over and touch me again. He adjusted his crotch as he looked on.
“I always wondered what it’d be like to fuck you,” he said, still propped up on the log. This time, a mischievous smile appeared on his face.
As blunt as those words were, they were music to my ears. “Oh, okay,” I said, nodding my head quickly.
“We’re adults,” he said as he sauntered over, placing his hand on my crotch and looking me dead square in the eyes.
“You’re pretty forward,” I said, as his grip tightened. My cock began to harden and throb. I could feel the pre-cum leaking out.
“You, me, right here, right now,” he said, pulling down his blue jeans revealing a knee-dropping thick, eight-inch cock. He stood there naked with his tan leather boots. My dick was aching to be released from my jeans and saved from my zipper.
“Come on,” he said as he motioned with his finger.
“Take off that shit before you come over, or I’ll fucking rip it off you,” he said, stroking his cock. I looked around, afraid someone might catch us, two naked guys alongside a country road doing the nasty. What would the neighbors think? Honestly, I couldn't care less.
It was still dark out; we had a good hour and a half before sunrise. That was enough time to get off a couple of nuts or just one good one.
Before I could remove my last shoe, Anthony rushed me, holding my hands behind my back as he moved me to the hood of his truck. After a few minutes of tongue wrestling, his grip eased; I broke free of his hold, grabbing his bubble-round ass.
He grabbed my wrists, slamming them to the hood, holding them in place as he kissed down my neck. It drove me crazy not being able to touch him. I spotted a light up ahead. We made our way quickly to a patch of grass by the ditch. We both kneeled, lips locked. The passing car had unnerved me; I was worried about being caught. Anthony continued the body exploration. He started down my long neck, stopping to suck on my erect nipples and slapping my pecs with his hand. He then moved down my right leg, moving his lips to my balls, taking each one into his mouth.
My toes curled. He licked his way down my left leg and made his way to my toes, taking extra care of sucking each one. Making his way back to my playground, he placed my dick into his mouth as if it were a harmonica. Pre-cum oozed from my cock onto his tongue. His hand reached down for my balls. I gasped as he plunged down the shaft. For a second I went blind, my vision blurred from pleasure overload. My toes curled and my back arched as he deep-throated my cock. His tongue darted back and forth over the sensitive head. I reached for his head, running my fingers through his dirty brown hair.
“Fuck,” I said, as he cupped my balls. I plunged my cock deeper into his mouth, guiding his head with my hand.
Anthony slowed and removed his lips. He grabbed my thighs pushing them to my chest; with my ass in the air, his tongue entered my ass. The initial lick caused me to retreat. No one had ever eaten me before. He continued to explore my hole with his tongue; he even brought a few of his friends to the party: his index finger and thumb. He took his thumb and ran it along his bottom lip before taking it into his mouth.
“You taste like honey,” he said, as he placed his thumb back into my wet hole. He reached up with his left hand and twisted my nipples as he finger fucked my ass. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his mouth to mine.
“Having fun?” he asked, kissing my inner thigh.
“Get back down there,” I said, pushing his head back down. He obliged and went in for seconds. His tongue caressed the walls of my ass. In and out, around and around, a loud cry escaped my lips as my legs flung further into my chest.
The sky rumbled; raindrops landed on the tip of my nose. It was refreshing. “We’re not finished yet,” he said, this time allowing me to wet his finger.
The light drizzle became a downpour, with crashing crescendos of thunder. Our bodies were soaked as the rain pounded against our flesh. Anthony pressed his body into mine. “Do you want to stop?” he said, pressing his mouth to mine, not waiting for an answer.
I could feel a fire burning within me. I craved for Anthony to be inside me. I reached down, grabbing a handful of him; he tensed as I stroked his dick.
With his mouth opened and eyes closed, his moans were low as I stroked his thick cock. I slid down to get a taste of his meat. His balls slapped against my chin as I took him into my mouth. The thickness of his cock stretched my mouth as he pushed deeper, diving for my throat. I held on to his ass as he drove his cock, fucking my mouth, gagging. I didn’t give up.
He pulled out, gripping his dick holding the base trying to reset the clock. I sat up on my knees, ready for another taste of his cock. “No way, not until I get a piece of that ass baby,” he said, as he pulled me back to the wet muddy ground. Anthony’s chest and lower body were covered in mud. He cupped his hands, trapping rainwater to clean his member. I turned on all fours and felt the cool water run down the crack of my ass.
Taking his time, he went in for another taste. His dick entered my wet clenching hole. With each stroke, he drilled deeper and deeper. He held my hips as his stroke quickened. I felt his low-hanging balls slap against my taint.
The fall of the rain and the meeting of our bodies produced the most beautiful sounds. “Harder,” I said as I pushed my ass back onto his dick. He pulled me forward, keeping his dick inside. Now I was on top. With his feet planted on the ground, he slammed his cock into my ass. I leaned forward as he placed his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, holding me down so I couldn’t squirm.
“You Ok?” He said as he slowed his stroke, brushing my wet hair back.
“Don’t stop,” I said, flipping on my back, and pulling my legs in. He grabbed my thighs, pushing them into my chest, diving into my ass without mercy. “Ahhh,” I cried out in pleasure. In the distance, I heard a car approach; it passed by not noticing us. Anthony continued pile-driving into me, making sure his dick disappeared into my hole.
He lifted me gently and carried me to his truck with his dick planted inside. With my back on the hood, he punished my ass with his deep thrusts.
I grabbed onto the back of the hood, pulling away from him. I felt a mixture of pain and pleasure; I didn’t want it to end. “Don’t run,” he commanded as he angled my ass up in the air.
“Fuck,” I said, as I arched my back, making way for his dick to explore my ass deeper. “Don’t hold back, baby.” I threw my ass back on his dick. I wanted to feel every inch of him; I grabbed his waist, pulling him into me. “Yes. Yes,” I cried as he hit the magic spot.
My body trembled as he hit my prostate; each stroke caused a euphoric sensation as the juices erupted from my cock, splattering across my chest and face. I could feel Anthony’s dick seize inside me. He was close. I reached for his nipples, applying the slightest pressure, to his delight.
“Give it to me,” I said as I clenched down on his dick with my ass.
His body tensed, and the veins in his neck popped. I felt him release his warm load inside my ass. He continued fucking me as cum dripped from my ass. He lay on top of me, unable to move. He breathed heavily while leaving his cock inside my warm, cum-filled ass. I clenched my ass, causing his body to quiver each time. The rain had stopped, and the sunrise was moments away. Everything was wet; we were covered in mud and cum, the ultimate wet spot.
“I guess we could have planned this better,” he said, easing out of me. He stood with his hands on his hips and his cock still rock-hard, looking quite tasty in just his boots.
“I’m just a few miles away. You can get cleaned up at my apartment,” I offered, hoping he’d say yes.
“Round two?” he said, holding up two fingers and flashing a bright smile.
“Round two, three, and four.”
The steam rose in the bathroom. I’d just awakened and the first thing on my mind was a long, hot shower. I placed my head under the nozzle, letting the warm water descend upon me. I reached up to turn the nozzle to pulsate.
I ran my fingers through my hair. The water helped soothe my body from the intense pounding Anthony laid on me last night. Anthony has been merciless yet tender with his dick. Grabbing the soap, I ran my hands down my chest, then my legs, working up a good lather. I couldn’t help but think of him as I showered. I wish he could have joined me, but he had business to tend to.
After that rainy encounter, we’ve been enjoying each other’s company. We rang in the New Year together; he even fixed the leaky toilet. It’s nothing serious, no titles; we’re just having good, dirty fun.
I closed my eyes, and images of Anthony appeared. I ran my soapy hands down to my semi-hard cock. I moaned with delight each time my hand crossed the tip. I didn’t want to waste my nut. I decided I’d save it for Anthony. He’d be jealous that I spent a perfectly good nut in the shower without him.
Anthony looked good in his tight jeans, leather cowboy boots, and a polo I picked up for him last December. He’d come over for dinner that Publix had prepared, but I reheated it. After dinner, we talked and listened to some sexy slow tunes on an old vinyl player I picked up on eBay.
The room was dark, lit only by the candles from the dinner table. Anthony decided to build a fire to make it cozier. The cracking of the fire with the soft music playing in the background set the mood.
Anthony sat on the sofa with his fingers running across his lips. I sat on the floor near the record player — DJ for the evening. I excused myself to the kitchen to prepare dessert. As I reached into the fridge, I felt Anthony slide his hands down my back.
“I know what I want for dessert.”
“Oh yeah? And what is that?” I said as I turned with a bowl of cherries in my hand.
Anthony took a single cherry by the stem and ran it across my lips and down my neck. “Oops,” he said as he dropped the cherry down my shirt.
“Looks like I’m going to have to go in after it,” he said, reaching for my ass.
He moved in, kissing me tenderly on my lips. He lifted me and placed me on the kitchen island. I reached down to unbuckle his pants and grab two handfuls of his bubble ass.
He led me to the living room, where the fire raged and soft music played in the background. We danced, holding each other. My head rested on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, his every breath. I looked up; his eyes were closed as he crooned.
“Forget the cherries. Somebody’s been asking for you all day, baby.” He took my head in his hands and eased me down to his crotch.