Date: Sun, 2 Oct 2005 13:20:17 -0700 (PDT) From: Dick Cannon Subject: Redneck Trucks - Part 2 The following work of fiction contains descriptions of sexual acts between men, which may be inappropriate or offensive for some readers. If you find explicit descriptions of sex between men objectionable, then it is strongly suggested that you leave this page . NOW! by Dick Cannon (dickcannontn@yahoo.com) Redneck Trucks - Part 2 He was lean. He was handsome and had only the slightest bit of heft to him. Dark brown eyes that squinted at me in the near-darkness. A familiar black goatee that spread over the lower half of his young face when he grinned. And he wore a smooth pelt of shiny black hair that drifted down across the faintly muscled chest and the tight stomach. His jeans hung snugly against the hips, displaying proudly the thick shaft that grew up along the right pocket. We were in his bedroom. The sun was about to set outside the window, casting a dark yellow light across the sparse furnishings. A dresser scattered with change and an empty Jack Daniels bottle. His bed, where I lay with my shirt open wide, was covered by a handmade quilt, soft from years of his sleep. We had met at this beer joint back in town. I was back in Forest Hill. It had been a few months since I had been here and now early summer had boiled into a scorcher. I rolled into town in late afternoon. Planning to get an early start the following day, I grabbed a motel room and headed over to Zeke's to have a cold beer or four. The parking lot was full of trucks, dusty from the days of drought. I pulled in and parked next to a red Ford with the windows down. The heat blasted me when I opened the door. >From inside came a loud burst of laughter. Neon beer signs hung in the barred windows. Inside was only a slightly bit cooler. TVs flashed in the corners of the room. There was a pool table or two, and NASCAR posters lined the walls. There were nine or ten guys in there, smoking or shooting the bull across the tables and drinking Budweiser. I grabbed a barstool and ordered my own. Within a few minutes, the bartender and I had fallen into a good banter about the weather, the heat, the Braves score and how low the lake was. About that time, a lone man came in and took the barstool next to me. He was about 24 and wore a blue t-shirt. And about an hour and a half later, I'd be watching him undress in his bedroom. The three of us chatted for a while before the bartender began to get busy with all of the other guys that poured in around 5 o'clock. I'd had my fill of beer by the time the two of us noticed how much we had drunk and smoked. We had laughed a good bit and had a good rhythm of conversation. He had introduced himself as "Coy," and my smartass got the best of me, and I replied with, "I'm not so sure about that." His eyes flashed at mine, and he grinned at me. "Fine then," and he leaned in, "let's get out of here." We each threw a $20 on the counter and threw our hands up to the bartender. "I gotta hit the little boy's room, but I'm in the black Xterra out on the side," I said to him. "Cool," he said. "I'll pull around." When I came out, he was parked behind me in his black Toyota Tacoma. "It's just a little ways down on the highway and we'll turn off on the left. Just follow me," he instructed. "Good deal. I'll see you there," I said, and winked at his grin. We pulled up at a white farmhouse with a garage out back. He got out of his truck and waited for me to get out of mine. He slapped me on the back and cupped my neck with his left hand. "My dad ain't home and he's headed over to his buddy's to get hammered," he said as we walked toward the back patio. "We don't smoke in the house so you wanna have one real quick?" I reached for my cigarettes in the front pocket of my jeans, and Coy asked, "You get high?" I smiled back at him and nodded. We passed the joint back and forth a few times under the shade of the maple trees in the backyard. We sat in the deck chairs and chatted some more. The more we smoked, the more Coy stroked the hairs on my forearm. Soon, without any warning, Coy cupped my package, and leaned into my face, so close that his breath was on my lips. "You like to kiss?" he said, looking straight into my eyes. "Yeah," I grunted back into his face, and crushed my lips into his, grinding his goatee into mine. I bit slightly his lips and let the tip of my tongue just barely touch his. His tongue was dry from the pot. "You thirsty?" I asked him. And he led me into the house, taking two beers from the fridge and quickly snapping off the tops. I took a deep swig, swallowed and moved in for a wet kiss. This time his mouth was warm and damp, his lips deftly fighting with mine and this tongue taking tiny swipes at my lips. He ground his hips against me, letting me feel his stiffening rod against mine. "Let me show you my room," he said when he pulled away. He led me through the kitchen and around to the stairs in the hallway. His heavy boots made thick clunks against the wooden steps, and echoed through the quiet house. We entered a small bedroom, occupied by an antique dresser, an iron-framed bed. He flipped a switch on a stereo and filled the room with the classic rock station out of Jackson. He came back to me and without hesitating, he moved straight for my mouth, slowly teasing my lips with his tongue before diving in further. The kiss grew more aggressive as he bucked his hips against mine, and he unbuttoned my shirt, pulling it from my pants. Coy moved his lips across my cheek and nibbled at my earlobes, while he ran his fingertips through the damp hair on my chest. He found my nipples and pinched them as he kissed roughly down my neck. I gasped outloud when he bit slightly on my right nipple, which caused my cock to pulse against his hand. I reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, exposing a rich farmers tan. A smattering of freckles spread across his shoulders, but the skin sharply became tan at the point where the tshirt sleeve stopped. Thick black hair spread down his thick forearms to his hands that were rubbing my dick through my pants. "Lay Down Sally" came on the radio, and his weed gave him a slight case of the giggles, breaking the seriously hot moment we had going on. He grinned up at me and said, "Why don't you lay down, Sally? I've been trying all night long just to talk to you." I laughed at him and climbed on the bed, propping myself up against the iron headboard. I nodded at his bulge and then at mine and smiled, "I don't think talking is what you had in mind." He kicked off his boots and pulled mine off before climbing on top of me, and resumed grinding his cock against mine and licking my nipples. Eric Clapton was replaced on the radio by George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone." He stripped me of my pants and pre-cum soaked briefs, freeing my harder-than-rock cock. He grasped the base with his thumb and forefingers, cupping the rest of his under my nutsac. He took a long intense look at my purple cockhead and spit on it before he sank his mouth around it. His cocksucking was expert, alternating slow strokes with surprise moments of hard and deep sucking. Spit was wetting my nuts, and starting to trickle down to my flexing asshole. He pushed my legs back against my chest, exposing my fuzzy pucker. He spit on it and dove in tongue-first. He ate my asshole with a vengeance, licking, sucking and sliding in a finger to pull the opening wider for his probing tongue. I was hungry for cock, and I wanted his now. I pushed him away from my ass, and got him to stand next to the bed. I unfastened his jeans and carefully pulled them away from his meaty cock, standing out against the denim. A dark spot had spread across his grey briefs. I went for it, sucking as much precum from the cotton as I could. He smelled of sweat and crotch. I pulled the waistband under his balls and over the thick hairy thighs, and without waiting, Coy pushed his cock into my mouth. It was thick and capped by a beautiful mushroom head. When it slid across my tongue, it deposited a hefty load of sweet pre-cum. He grasped the back of my head and fed me his cock, sliding slickly between my lips. I sucked on the head on each downstroke, holding it there while I could swipe my tongue around his drooling head. My hand went under his balls and tapped at his backdoor. I could feel the tight sphincter puckering against my fingertips. I pulled him on to the bed and pulled his ass to my face. It had been months since I had eaten an ass like his. Covered in fine hair that grew thick and dark toward the middle. My tongue touched the pink circle at the center of the hair and he jerked like someone had stuck a cattle prod to him. "Goddamn! I love getting my ass eaten! Get in there, Tim! Fucking eat it!" He spurred me on and urged me to stretch it open and force my tongue deeper and deeper in to the hole. He crawled further up my face, and lowered his hot ass on my mouth. This boy loved an ass-eating. The ass that had been riding around in a pick-up truck all day was now riding my face. His balls rubbed against my goatee, and he jerked his cock slowly and deliberately while he ground his ass against my tongue. With his free hand, he tugged at my nipples. He leaned forward, pressing his hairy stomach to mine and licked his way from the base of my cock all the way to my still wet asshole. He pulled my thighs behind his arms and we locked ourselves in a sweaty butt-eating 69, mouths clamped to each others' asses. My ass was aching to be fucked, and Coy must have read my mind. He untangled himself from me, his turgid cock smacking up against his furry belly. He rummaged through the nightstand drawer and produced a bottle of lube, a bottle of poppers and a handful of neckties. "I can't wait to get in your ass," he grinned as he climbed up between my legs. He grabbed my right wrist and lashed it to the headboard. He never lost contact with my eyes as he tied the knot. He did the same with the left hand, securing my hands above my head. He unscrewed the cap from the brown bottle and sniffed sharply with one nostril, and pinched my nose closed while I did the same. The warm feeling started to pulse through my cock and my ass. Coy squirted some lube on his cock and then put a squirt in my ass. With my legs pinned back, he sunk his cock into me, driving straight for the prostate and pushing a loud glop of precum out on to my stomach. As Coy built speed and milked more precum out of my dick, I closed my eyes to enjoy the ride. I grunted and moaned every time he spiked the spot. I felt a drop Coy's salty sweat land on my lips. "You like getting fucked, don't you, boy?" "Oh hell yeah," I grunted back before I realized the voice was similar but wasn't Coy's. I opened my eyes to find Bill standing in the doorway, stroking his dick. "Hey Coy, does he have a tight ass?" "He sure does, Dad. Tight and wet, and it feels so good." "Is it as tight as yours?" "Only one way for you to find out." Coy pulled out of my ass and made the way for Bill, who slid into my waiting ass and went just as deep as his son. "Oh I think you're right, Coy. It's pretty fuckin' tight." I looked up at Bill's face as he slowly stroked my asshole. "Been waiting for your pretty ass to come back to town, Tim. But I didn't think I'd see it in my son's bedroom." "Got back as soon as I could. And when you said, `there's more where that came from,' I didn't think you meant I'd be getting it from your son." Again, reading my mind, Coy straddled my face and lowered his hairy hole on my face. Each time, Bill stroked across my prostate I moaned into Coy's ass. I felt Bill's lube-slick hand slide between us and start to jerk my cock. He'd only made a few strokes before I started to grunt. "Oh yeah Tim! That's it! Show us that hot load of cum!" I was in agony with my hands tied behind my head. Bill's hand was different than my own and while I would have known exactly how to fire a shot of cum, he was merely keeping me on the edge. And then suddenly it began to feel perfect. I started to blow thick chunky wads of cum between us, spraying Bill's chest, Coy's thighs and my chest. Before I had even caught my breath, Coy and his dad were on either side of me, furiously jerking their cocks. Coy came first, shooting cum across my lips and chin. "Open up, Tim," Bill ordered as he moved into position, pointing his cockhead directly at my mouth. Cum erupted from the gaping tip, spilling out over his knuckles and giving me a good mouthful. Bill held his hand out for me to lick up the excess as Coy collapsed on the bed next to me.