Date: Sat, 8 Aug 2020 21:21:26 -0600
From: Lucky Slevens <7uckyslevens@gmail.com>
Subject: The Punk and the Hipster

The Punk Trucker and the Hipster Convict

** This story is fiction and in no way represents real life people, places
or situations. Consent and boundaries as well as safe words, prepared
scenarios, and most importantly, long and in-depth conversations with a
trusted partner are the key to a safe and ideal sub/dom relationship. This
is a sexual fantasy and thus dramatized for reading pleasure. Email me at
7uckyslevens@gmail.com and let me know what you think of this story, the
good the bad and the cummy. Please donate to Nifty as they do not run off
of menthol cigarettes and bourbon, unlike me, http://donate.nifty.org/
=]. **

Part 1

	Rudi pulls his horn for three little kids gesturing in a parking
lot. The iconic, fist pump reminds him of a concert, whether it be punk,
metal, grunge, waves of fists thrusting into the air in unison. The
weightlessness of being crushed on all sides by hot sweaty bodies, the dank
smell of sweat and BO and the faint whiff of pot. His ears crave the ring
of 100 decibels blasting into them and the taste of a stale, overpriced and
hot beer. He misses the pit, a wave of bodies colliding and bashing at
everyone and no one. His body was always sore, but it was worth every
second. The pain was always a reminder that he is alive.

	The horn blares and the children scatter at the sound of an illegal
train horn echoing through the parking lot. Rudi laughs as an odd fifty or
so eyes narrow from scared expressions across the lot. His detached
Peterbilt rolls through the parking lot and pauses at the stop sign to exit
ground zero of hell, and he laughs. His forced resignation rings in his
ear, or maybe it was the illegal train horn he attached last summer, but he
was relived to leave the bloodsucking corporate job behind him and his ears
ringing from the blaring horn. Nostalgia is bitch.

#

	"You were late with five deliveries this quarter, Rudolf, you have
an attitude problem and your appearance is horrendous. Over seven
complaints in the last three weeks alone. That punk shit won't fly with me
anymore, either get your shit together or quit, and I won't give you the
satisfaction of firing you."

	"You couldn't say this this morning, to my face?"

	"You were late with today's delivery, final strike."

	"Fine Buck, send my regards to your wife and children. Or maybe I
should send them a farewell message."

	"You leave my family out of this," Buck had stated flatly.

	"I'm sure they'll love to hear how their husband and dad likes to
unload in his employees' arses. Who else besides me have you been fucking?
Juan and Fred for sure, but-"

	"What do you want?" Buck asked, again flatly.

	"A good reference, and my sick leave and vacation time paid out
immediately."

	"Done, now bring back the container and turn in your shit."

	"Actually, I'll leave it here, I'm not backtracking to the
warehouse when I live in the other direction."

	"Fuck that you little fucking punk, I'm not sending someone just
for an empty container."

	"I've told you, never call me Rudolf. If you had only waited until
I was back, you'd have your shell and I could have had a farewell cream pie
baking in my arse, but, hey, no hard feelings."

	"You are a fucking monster."

	"Damn, Buck, opinions are mutual. I'm going to miss your massive
cock. Best part of this job was riding you. You knew just how rough I liked
it."

	"Fuck off, Rudolf. You go near my family I'll beat the shit outta
your bitch ass."

	"My money by the end of the week or they're getting some very
obscene photos of my arse swallowing your tree trunk. It doesn't have your
face, but I know your wife will recognize that stupid fucking tattoo you
have."

	"Done, now never show your face in this side of Texas again."

#

	Rudi switches to the right lane and starts to turn onto the
frontage road that'll connect to I20 West out of Fort Worth, Texas. He
pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the photo album. First photo was
the picture he took only that morning. His shell wasn't the only thing
being loaded as he waited for his container in the corporate warehouse. His
back on Buck's desk, jeans around his ankles flailing above him. Buck's
hands around Rudi's neck, balls deep in his arse, unaware of the phone
between them. Snap snap snap. Too dark but the stupid cholo Bugs Bunny
smoking a blunt under a thick hairy bush clearly visible above a cock
slamming into a hairy tattooed arse.

	Rudi licks his lips and rubs his groin at the sight of it. A
massive seven-inch soda can cock that he couldn't take at first. He would
get hard, but Rudi doesn't get hard, not unless he sniffs a blue. Though,
Buck did have the ability to make his limp cock cum just from fucking
him. Truly a shame, these fringe benefits were the only reason Rudi stayed
for all these years. Well, that and the health insurance, but this is
America. Health insurance is always a pipe dream.

	Rudi closes the picture and opens his music app, hits shuffle and
the truck's speakers blare a random slur of screaming over heavy guitar
thrashing and drum smashing. The chaotic stream of what Rudi called `music'
vibrates the cab as he rolls up to the red light before the onramp. A
passenger in the car to his left gives him a glare but turns away when Rudi
lifts his loose mohawk from one side to the other, revealing a scalp tattoo
from his hair line to the back of his skull. A naked amalgamation of human
and demon posed like one of Jack's French girls. Human body, goat head,
cloven hooves, bat wings, and a fat cock pointing at two full and round
tits with tentacles for nipples sits seductively on his scalp, permanently
etched into his head.

	The blonde gawks at the punk towering above her. Rudi smiles at her
with his tongue out. It splits and flicks like a snake's. The woman rolls
up the window quickly and Rudi laughs as he returns his eyes to the lights.

	And that's when he saw him. A hipster stud, thumb out, standing
expectantly on the edge of the onramp. The sign he held was barely legible
from this distance, but read: `Anywhere but Here.'

	Rudi smiles, he hasn't picked up a hitchhiker in years, it's
against company policy. But he no longer works for Buck or his thick cock
anymore. As the light turned green, Rudi accelerates but pulls off to the
dirt side way, hazards blinking and the hipster rushes to the towering
white Peterbilt.

	Rudi pulls a taser from his side compartment and turns it on and
waits. The whirling ping of the taser reaches a high-pitched stream and the
noise irritates Rudi but it is a necessary evil. The passenger door opens
and like a child at an ordering counter the man stares in with a grin. A
line of straight white teeth shines in the fading afternoon light, and his
curly hair bounces in his face. Rudi's face instantly lights up at the
sight of him.

	"You have any weapons?" Rudi asks. "A gun, knife, anything like
that?"

	"Yeah, a knife," the man says.

	"You'll put it in the glove. I don't play hostage well and this
truck is my home, I'll kill a mother fucker who comes in with ill
intent. Good for you?"

	"Fair, how far you headed?"

	"Not sure yet, I just got fired and don't really have anywhere to
go. Need to stop in Albuquerque. Few friends owe me money and I'll cash
those in before heading towards the west coast, probably. Where you
headed?"

	"West is preferable, coast is best. Cool if I stick with you on
that trip? I'll pay for my own stuff, `aint got much to chip in for gas,
but I'll cover a couple of your meals, I'll help load or whatever you need
if it means a ride."

	"Come on in."

	The man smiles and jumps into the cab, lifting a large duffle bag
and tossing it to the back. He sits in the passenger and pulls a sheathed
pocketknife from his pocket. Rudi pulls open his glove, filled with
condoms, lube and a string of black anal beads. The hipster lifts an
eyebrow, but Rudi just nods to the glove. The hipster places the knife
inside, and Rudi tosses in his taser, powered down and locks it.

	"Name's Rudi," Rudi finally says.

	"Austin."

	"From, or your name?"

	"Where I'm from and my name."

	"Do you hate your parents for that?" Rudi says as he shifts into
drive and merges onto the road. He speeds up and enters I40 in mid rush
hour.

	"Naw, I hate them for leaving me at the hospital."

	"Damn, and they named you after the city you were in, sounds like
they did you a favor. Leaving you I mean, probably worse off with them."

	"Probably, I liked the orphanage, the priest running it used lube
so I couldn't complain too much. I was his favorite, so I had all kinds of
privileges."

	"Lucky, my uncle only spit on his dick before ripping me open."

	The two of them just laugh as they drift slowly out of the
city. Rudi catching glances at Austin next to him. Worn leather boots,
tight skinny jeans, old and faded. A newish but dirty flannel shirt over a
dirty white tank. He wore a few braided bracelets and one necklace with a
silver beetle pendant. He wore his beard tight against his sharp face. It
was long but the dense curls kept it from hanging down to his chest. He
wore a beanie over a mass of curls poking out the front. His skin was dark,
and though his features look Black; he could pass for any number of ethnic
backgrounds. He even had a hint of Korean around his dark green eyes.

	"You got some sick tatts," Austin says. His eyes follow up the two
slender arms griping around the steering wheel. Two sleeves of a hellscape,
brimstone and devils, the sadist display of the tortured souls being
punished for sins they never committed, because it was just a
tattoo. Austin looks over the strangeness of Rudi. He wears a band tee and
distressed black skinny jeans. His T.U.K. creepers, like platforms on his
feet. His ears were stretched to about an inch and his dyed black mohawk
flops to the side. Blond roots growing in means he'll have to re-dye again
soon. The sides of his head shaved down to the scalp reveal more tattoos
underneath. "You covered?"

	"Yeah," Rudi says, "almost. Have my arse, ribs, thighs and stomach
with some space left. Neck, face, feet, and hands are probably a no
go. Still need to work, and I got fired `cus I don't look
presentable. Fucking bastard didn't say shit to my face this morning. Just
used my boy pussy as a jerkmate, unloaded his balls inside, and waited to
call me after I made my delivery. Little bitch."

	"Wow, you're frank about it aren't you?"

	"About what?"

	"Taking it up the ass," Austin says. He knows he's testing
dangerous waters. The punk could kick him out of the truck right now.

	"I mean, the second sentence out of your mouth was about a priest
putting it up your bum." Rudi says with a wild smile. "Besides, I'm a
fucking fag and being a fucking fag is all I know, so, unless you're
telling me to shut the fuck up, imma talk, and when I talk, I talk about
fag shit."

	"No, no, just a little surprised how open you are about it. Just
not used to it is all."

	"You gay?"

	"No, well, sorta. I'll be gay only if I'm giving it." Austin's face
suddenly grows sad. He looks as if he was ready to open the passenger door
and toss himself out into traffic. "I don't like being fucked, not
since. . ."

	But Rudi's chuckle lingers in the air a moment, a symphony of light
laughs that keep Austin's focus. "I wasn't lying about my uncle either,"
Rudi says. Austin snaps his head back up and just stares at Rudi's
face. Like he's inscribing the shape of it into his mind, he stares for an
endless time, mapping the pale cheeks, the long small but angular nose. He
takes a special interest in the wisp of guyliner on Rudi's eyes. "I'd kill
him if he was still alive. Sick fucking fucks, the lot of them, arseholes."

	"Are you English? You sound like a Londoner."

	"Naw mate, from Idaho. Jumped on the first cock outta there and
ended up in Portland, got really into the British punk scene up there. Took
a train to NY, and a boat to the UK. . . got in all kinds of trouble up
there. Pissed wasted every day, concerts all night, uncut cocks until I
drowned in cum. Good stuff, really. Picked up some terms, sounds better, I
think. But two years past my visa's expiration, I got deported. Wankers. I
didn't live until I was there, I was a shell and now I haul `em to make
end's veggies."

	"End's veggies? A punk vegetarian?"

	"Vegan. I'll torture humans, consensually. I'll consent to
torture. I'll lick up the blood out of flogging wounds. But I won't kill an
animal for flavor."

	"Fair. I tried it as a teenager, but now that food means living to
the next day, I'll eat what I can get."

	"Fair," Rudi says with a wide grin. He sits back, almost lounging
in the massive lifted seat. His foot lifts to the side panel and beads from
an ankle bracelet clank and rustle from the movement. The silence looms
even through the low music filling the cab with an awkwardness like a thick
fog.

	"Umm, thanks for picking me up," Austin finally says, "If you
hadn't, I'd probably be spending the night under the overpass, again."

	"Well, if you're tired, you can take my cot for a while. I don't
sleep until late so get rested."

	Austin looks behind him to the small room in the back of the rig. A
long bed fills the back wall, a mini fridge on one wall, a small dresser
overflowing with clothing, all black, on the other. Austin nods and yawns a
deep gutter sound that even surprised himself.

	"Get some sleep and think about how you can repay me for the ride."

	Austin's eyes widen, no payment had been discussed. Rule of
hitchhiking is you state a payment before the hitchhiker even gets in the
car. Though, its typically cash, grass, or ass, Austin had nothing except
his necklace. And he had no intention of selling it for cash.

	"Umm, I don't have much money," Austin says. "Maybe a few meals
worth."

	Rudi breaks out into a hysterical fit of laughs. "Tell you what,
Austin, get some sleep and we can discuss it when you wake."

	"Sure," Austin says as he climbs into the back room. He's too tall
to stand all the way up, but the room was spacious enough. Austin takes off
each boot, untying them each loop at a time until he pulls it exposing
sweat stained socks. The aroma of his exposed feet was like a wave of
pheromones to Rudi. His cock, eternal in its limp state, flinches at the
smell of man and sweat.

	"Sorry, I might be stinky."

	"No worries," Rudi says through an orgasmic moan. He has to think
about focusing on the road before him, something he knew by instinct by
this point. "Just don't crawl into the bed with dirty clothes."

	Austin looks suspiciously at the man driving the rig. His slender
body fitting oddly in the too large of a seat in his modern punk get up. He
looks eighteen at first glance, but Austin thinks he also looks too old to
play fag punk dress up. Or he looks as if he actually lived through the
eighties punk scene and never outgrew the angst. Austin's cock grew hard as
he watched him drive completely aloof. His persona gave off an air of too
cool for everything and Austin almost hated him for it. Limp and slouching
in his seat, hand barely controlling the wheel, but the rig never
drifts. His clothing is too tight for him, but I outline his slender shape
perfectly. He might as well be naked.

	Down to his plaid boxers, Austin kneels down to his duffle bag and
pulls his last pain of clean underwear. He debates a moment before saying,
"It'd be really cool to stop by a laundromat soon. If that's okay?"

	"Sure, not tonight though. Everything will be closed within the
hour. I'll stop at a place. Little out of the way but my favorite spot on
this trek."

	Austin lets his boxers fall and lets his cock breathe a moment. He
never liked the sight of it like this, hard and sensitive. But this time he
felt himself, unsure why this punk triggers this inside of him. It'd be
rude to ask the fag to suck him off, but Austin had already tested the
water with the laundromat, and he had every intention of push the
boundaries. He wanted to pull Rudi's face away from the road and shove his
cock down the little punk's face but resists the violent urge. Soon enough
he'll make a move, but now is not the time. He pulls on his last pair of
boxers and fixes his hard cock into the waist band.

	Rudi hears the shuffling and resists every urge to turn around and
watch the man undress behind him. He takes a long time to undress, and
every movement releases a new scent that sends a chill down Rudi's
spine. Then the smell of cock floods the cab. Dank and pungent, like spent
spooge and musk. His cock leaks precum and he adjusts his groin as he
passes a civic. His ass throbs with want as the man crawls into the sheets
and passes out. For hours, Rudi fantasizes about crawling into the bed and
swallowing, riding, simply all-around taking advantage of the hipster fuck
sleeping in his bed. . . but he figures he'd have the chance soon enough.

	It was midnight when Rudi turns in. He pulls his truck into a long
parking lot next to a familiar blue and white Peterbilt. The truck hisses
into a stop. He lifts a blinder over the windows. Two way, you can see out
but not in. He strips to a black jock strap and crawls under the occupied
sheets. The bulk of his bead taken over by the bearded hipster. He has to
cuddle with the man to fit. He nestles his arse into the warm niche of
Austin's hips and lifts his strong arm over his slender torso. He rests his
head on the massive bicep underneath him.

	Rudi sniff the scent of the man, now imbedding the sheets with a
dank scent. the aroma could have sent Rudi into a ravenous rage, but his
eyes closed and didn't open.

	

	Austin wakes with a hardon that actually hurts. His skin so tight
around his tube of meat it feels like it could rip. Underneath him is the
punk snoring in a blissful dream. His arms holding him close like an old
lover, though the both of them wouldn't fit on the cot if in literally any
other position. He felt the smooth skin under him. Hairless and unblemished
except where ink bubbled from being etched in too hard. Austin's cock
pulsates harder as he felt the man in his embrace. It wanted to fuck
him. Already, his sentient cock found the space between Rudi's legs and
ass, where grew hard in the tight space where it wants to unload.

	Austin is trapped in his position. His back against the wall, one
arm is a pillow for the stubbly head of the punk, his cock locked between
two legs. But he has one arm free, however, he used it to test how much
Rudi could take before waking. His fingers ran down the length of him, as
if tongues, tasting the tattooed skin underneath him. His stomach is tight,
legs firm but slender. His ass thick and squishy and covered in thin wisps
of hair. He wore a jock strap and Austin finds the exposed crack
easily. His fingers glide the length of it where he found a forest of
smooth hairs. He lifts his finger and smells it. Rudi's ass smells like
pungent sweat and ass musk but also something sweet. A familiar smell he
can't remember. Not artificial like flavored lube, but a homemade sweet of
some sort. The scent makes his cock spasm and he could feel his head
dribble precum.

	Austin returns his finger to the hairy crack and explores
deeper. His ass is hot and hungry, he feels it begging for it and once he
finds his pucker, he rubs it until it opens for him. Austin's breathing
becomes moans as his fingers feel the tight, but open rim of the hole
underneath him. The punk hasn't even moved the whole time Austin molests
him. His deep snores uninterrupted and steady. Austin's index and middle
finger explore deeper until his knuckles stop him from pushing deeper. His
hot wet hole sucks his fingers, squeezing back as he wiggles and rubs
everything he can reach. His touch is gentle and slow, but Rudi doesn't
react as if this is what he always sleeps through, as if his body is simply
used to being used and abused and assaulted in his sleep.

	Austin rocks his hips gently, fucking the space where groin splits
to thighs. His uncut cock moves only enough to peek its head out of the
tight foreskin before retracting and then peeking again. With his fingers
massaging the undulating cave of Rudi's sweet ass, and the tightness of his
foreskin around his head, Austin came fast. His cock shooting load after
load of hot spunk in between Rudi's legs, sheets and jockstrap. Involuntary
shudders escape as his body attempts to straighten out. His toes curl and
his hips seek a full thrust. His breath heaves and small moans escape him,
but he resists everything as to not wake the man kind enough to give him a
ride.

	Instant regret washes over him as his cock flops out of the tight
space it found. The grey sheets discolor as his spunk settles and soaks
into the fabric. Evidence of his molestation stain the sheets they are
currently sleeping in. But Rudi remains fast asleep, undisturbed by his
body's assault. Austin was too afraid to move, though he convinced himself
to remove his fingers from the corpse-like body below him. The tight ass
resists, as if begging the two fingers to return, but they plop out
easily. Austin sniffs them again, musky and sweaty, and tastes the intense
flavors on his fingers. Like salty honey on the lollipop of his fingers and
he gets hard again.

	"Fuck it," Austin says.



	Rudi wakes to a sudden movement. His body flips and a hand cover
his mouth. His face falls into the pillow below him and he tries to push
himself up, but his arms are trapped under him. The wight of Austin's body
pushes him deeper into the bed. Chest against back, every deep breath felt
between the two. His entire body is under the hairy, rock hard hipster he
picked up yesterday. It takes Rudi a moment to realize whats happening. He
tries to squirm free, but a hand pushes his lumbar down further. He is
helpless as a massive cock starts knocking at the door of his hole. It was
already slimy as its hardness enters the hungry hole. But it was big.

	The pressure sent a wave of fear over the little punk. He's bigger
than Buck, and Buck was the biggest Rudi's ever had. The head alone
stretches him out and he screams into the hand holding his face. Pain
reverberates through his ass, like a white-hot poker stabbing him deeper
and deeper. Each centimeter is a mile of sharp and burning battering ram
against Rudi's pucker. Rudi, tries to relax, breathing to allow the massive
girth and length into him, but the hand over mouth and force on his body
forces his breaths shallow and fast. Panic rolls off of him in a cold sweat
as a rush of adrenaline pumps through his veins, but the little strength he
gains from it is not enough to do anything. A weak push only gives room to
move his arm out of its trapped position. But it still lies between body
and wall, without an angle to reach for anything. He couldn't even scratch
at his assailant.

	"You're so hot," Austin says as he spits into his hand and lubes up
his cock. "I want you so bad." The tight hole takes his head but resists
the full length of it. Austin doesn't shove, even though his whole body
wants to, his cock hungers for it, his body needs the hot tight
hole. Instead, Austin starts slow soft thrusts, pushing further and deeper
each time. The screams and squeals below him resound around him, muffled
but load in his ears. The sound of it gets him harder and hungrier. His
full weight pushes the punk further into the small mattress. His long
tongue licks over the sweaty cheek underneath him, then the tears from his
eyes. His legs clench together under him, and the resistance becomes
tighter around Austin's cock. He uses one arm to adjust the slender legs
under him, opening them up where they can be locked in place by his own.

	"Let me in," Austin says in a deep voice.

	Rudi struggles against the weight atop him but it was fruitless as
the massive cock forces him into submission. There was no pleasure in this
as there was when he was in control. He has never relinquished control but
this time, he didn't have a choice. His body was being used like a toy and
the lurching feeling in his gut scared him. Rudi wails out in terror as the
pace picks up even though the massive cock still hasn't entered
completely. He was longer than Buck as well.

	Austin's hard and smooth rhythm holds Rudi in place as his ass
muscles contract and push with his whole weight down into the soft body
underneath. It was easy for Austin to isolate his lower back and glutes for
a full thrust without letting up the pressure keeping his chest
down. Rudi's legs are now wide open, and his ass in complete domination and
he simply give into the slow rhythmic pleasure of the hard and orgasmic
stabs. Underneath him, he already came. The sheets soaking with the sticky
hot ooze from his half hard cock.

	Through the pain, beneath the hard sharpness of his stretching
hole, every pleasure point ignites inside of Rudi. Fire licks his skin, hot
burning euphoria of a fuck he's never had before, a complete release of
power into the hands of a total stranger. That nostalgic mix of pain and
adrenaline from the mosh pit as strangers slam into his slender frame,
sending him into a convulsing fit from the sensations he had never
experienced. His body takes the assault of its insides and starts rocking
back, lifting to meet the cock mid thrust until it could take the whole
length of it. But the searing pain returns, a hot poker ramming his insides
burns every inch of its girth. Rudi tears and screams but the sound
disappears in between fingers clenching his face. he hadn't felt this since
he was a kid.

	Austin didn't understand why he was met with a struggle, he knew
the punk fag wanted it. He could feel every word spoken yesterday had been
filled with a sexual tension building to a boiling point. Rudi had
expressed in every way he wanted to be dominated except in actual
words. The dominating and sharp front he put up, a faŤade meant to
detract from his actual desires. A cool control of everything around him, a
retrospective `I planned this' attitude when in reality, Rudi just needs to
lose control. He needs someone to take him.

	"I wanted to shove my cock into your mouth last night, throat fuck
you while you drove."

	Rudi simply moans at the idea. He had wanted that too.

	"I wanted your ass this morning, but instead of a word salad
that'll get me nowhere, I'm taking it. Tell me I can use it."

	Austin releases his hand from Rudi's mouth, and he lets out a
painful scream. Austin slaps the `hardcore' punk hard. The slap silences
the scream instantly.

	"Try again, fucking fag."

	"Please stop," Rudi says through a moan. "Too big."

	Austin growls, but slows his thrusts. Rudi moans softer and
whimpers from the release of the hard and fast thrusts. A deep breath
without obstruction calms his nerves. Austin retracts to his head, and
pushes Rudi's face into the pillow below and dives balls deep into the
abused pit under him. Screams erupt from the pillow, and Austin grins at
his work.

	"No means yes. Stop means harder," Austin whispers into the
whimpering mess.

	The menace inside Austin's voice terrifies Rudi and he collapses
into the bed. No longer resisting. He opens his body as much as he could
muster for the hipster cock to enter him. It's girth stretches him, fills
him until he moans hard and deep. He grips the sheets and grits his teeth
until Austin stops. He lets Rudi get used to the size of him before pumping
him. The tightness of the tasty ass around his cock was orgasmic but he
takes his time. The little punk isn't moaning like a cum dump does. Rudi is
in pain.

	"Beg me for it." Austin starts fully pulling out and reentering
slowly, painfully slow. Rudi cries as now there was no pleasure from the
hard fuck, only deep stabbing pain.

	"Use me, please," Rudi says, defeated.

	Austin pulls his weight away from the limp body below him and
straightens up. From above, he admires the portrait of a witch, burning at
the stake inked into Rudi's back. Demons in Christian regalia dance around
her as her peasant dress scorches around her. Hands bound above her head to
a wood post. But her face is serine, smiling almost. Her fair skin unbroken
in a magical demure pose of almost pleasure. Austin felt her pain, that
sting of burn that send your body into fight or flight. The rush of
adrenaline that numbs you at first, but once it fades, the heat of every
pain receptor firing at once. Waves pleasure and pain, a vortex of simply
too much.

	"Please," Rudi says as his whole body moves from each thrust.

	"You like to lose control. And I like to give people what they
want."

	"I don't want this."

	Austin slows his thrusts, cock dribbling as he pulls out. The sweat
aroma from before exploding into the air. The gaping hole clenching closed,
pulsating with each deep gasping breath. Austin dives his face into the red
hole. His tongue takes in all the fluids like candy.

	"You're fucking delicious."

	"Why?" Rudi asks, not to Austin but to himself. He feels his torso
down to his jock strap, until he finds his cock. Its hardness leaking cum.

	"I will reward you when you beg," Austin answers but Rudi ignores
him.

	His cock is hard, hard and without a blue pill, snorted or
swallowed. He starts jerking it, feeling his natural erection. He lifts
himself to all fours, using his own precum as lube he twists his knob in
his fist. And with a tongue rimming his hole, he spurts hard onto the grey
sheets below.

	"Please," Rudi asks, "stop, no. . . Or whatever, just fuck me."

	Austin gets to his knees and slams his cock down to the balls into
the hungry hole. Long fast thrusts and the lingering flavor of the punk's
juices on his lips sends him into a frenzy and he pushed his whole body
into each drive and withdrew until it was just his head. The fast thrusts
send his cock into overdrive, his full nine inches squeezed tight every
inch of the way, as if being sucked by a tight tunnel. A woman could never
take this much, all of him, only the slutty fags, boys who never feel tight
could take him, not like this.

	Rudi wasn't like Austin's others. The fags in the pen, using sex as
a currency. Buying protection, cigs, or simply a ramen. Rudi wasn't like
Tray. Tray was upfront, honest about loving cock and using that to survive
inside the prison system. Rudi spoke in double talk. He said one thing,
while wanting something else. His eyes were a blank slate but around the
edges, you can see a wilderness of pain and want. He is smart with a deep
well of desire fills him. But the persona he uses to face reality is hard
and unyielding. Was this the only way, though?

	Rudi was close as the hard rhythm rocks his body forward and he
fights against the weight slamming against him. Austin was like a breeding
horse, trained to fuck and breed holes. His cock hit every pleasure point
inside of his ass. Slithering in and out, finding new and impossible ways
of making Rudi cum. His orgasms were typically internal. A deep release of
tension, a rolling fantasia of hypersensitivity, and finally an explosion,
sometimes out of his flaccid cock but that was rare. More often than not it
was all over his body from a nuclear bomb inside his ass and the big red
button was his prostate. But this was something else. His cock was full and
hard poking out the side of his jockstrap. It craves stimulation like it
never has before. . . well since he was an adolescent.

	Right now his whole body was already detonated, but the fallout did
not come, instead the hellfire remained. Flames burn every muscle, every
inch of skin. His ass pulsated with orgasm and rode the ride as if it would
never end. Like an acid trip the remains after it expires, he cums with a
trippy force that was cosmic in scale. His jizz shoots across the bed in
ropes. It flies to wall and splats in a web of dripping mess.

	Austin held his load until his host came before discharging his own
load. He resisted for what felt like hours before the fag finally releases
himself. He holds Rudi as his cock fills the hole he occupies, slow
convulsions shake the both of them as they enjoy their shared orgasm. Sweat
mixes between them and harmonizing breaths fill the small cab with an aroma
of pure orgasmic sex.

	Neither spoke, even as they separate and a flood of creamy spooge
spills out of the gaping hole. Austin flips the punk over and lifts his
used hole into the air. Rudi is forced onto his shoulders as Austin eats
the jizzy mess out of his gaging hole. A long tongue slithers in and out of
him as lips seal around his rim and sucks at his creamy insides. Austin is
in a frenzy as he eats out the pink hole. His mouth craves more and
more. His bitter load mixed with the sweet and salty honey from Rudi's ass
became a stimulant in Austin's famished maw until all he could taste is his
own spit.

	Then he turns his attention to the cummy mess of the jockstrap.
Rudi came three times, twice while trapped inside the fabric. Austin sucks
on the limp cut cock hanging out the side of the underwear. The little pink
thing looks off, as if chopped off and sewed back on. But it tastes good
enough for Austin. His tongue as meticulous for Rudi's spent cum and his
own. Rudi just moans. Austin's gentle touch catches him off guard after the
rough assault from just moments ago. He was still in shock and just lets
the hipster clean him up.

	 

** Thank you for reading this story and look forward to Part 2. This story
is based on a fan whose story inspired Rudi. This is for you Daniel, and
thank you for letting me turn our conversations into a story =]. Again,
this is a sexual fantasy and does not represent real sexual relations.
Explicit consent as well as lengthy conversations between you and your
partner are a necessary part of a healthy Sub/Dom relationship. Email me at
7uckyslevens@gmail.com for updates, or tell me your comments critiques or
about the mess I helped you make. Also, please donate to Nifty as they are
curators of my deep and dark sexual fantasies and hopefully yours. **