Date: Sun, 2 Jan 2005 21:23:52 EST
From: Jocstrapfan@aol.com
Subject: A Winters Tale - Part 1

This is a work of fiction, a work in progress. I appreciate comments,
suggestions and feedback. Enjoy!


	I shouldn't have done it. The worst thing is I knew it before I
left. I bought a used car from a friend because I was going half way across
the country and needed transportation and didn't want to do the bus. I
should have, I really should have. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting in a
dead car, stranded in bum-fuck, who knows where in Ohio at 9:30 at night on
a cold, snowy night.

	However, being an optimist I know it won't be long and sure enough,
twenty minutes later after freezing my nuts I see lights coming down the
road. And stops. All I can see is a round circle of red flesh, face covered
by a parka and hat.

	"Dude, get in the truck." The voice deep, masculine.

	I grab my stuff and get the hell out of the car. "Can you take me
to a motel?" I ask thankful for the warmth of the heated truck.

	"Nothing around." The answer is short, simple. "I'm only half a
mile away, you can spend the night and I can take a look at your car
tomorrow."

	"Sure, thanks." Like I have a choice.

	I'm in Mister-Who-Knows-Who's truck going who knows where,
wondering what the hell I'm doing. He's driving 5 miles an hour squinting
out the window, trying to see through the blizzard. We finally arrive at
his house, which I can't see through the snow so I follow him as he races
to the door.

	All I can do when get inside is huddle, shivering around the wood
stove. He hands me a glass that I drink before thinking about what it is. I
choke, big time. Straight scotch. I down it and hand him the empty glass.

	"You're not going to try to get me drunk and jump my bones in the
middle of the night, are you?" I'm not sure why I ask the question.

	"Not unless you want me to." He yells to me from the next room.

	I can't believe when he comes back into the room; my age late 20's,
black hair, tall but can't tell the body type since he's still bundled
up. The thick bushy eyebrows, jet black mustache and the smile, killer. He
pours himself a glass of scotch, downs it in one gulp, pours another for
each of us.

	He gives me the glass, then puts his hands on back of the sofa next
to my shoulders and leans close to my face. I can smell his liquor scented
breath when he says, "Maybe I need to worry about you jumping my bone."

	Okay, I caught the singular of his last word and realize I've met
my match. I look into the dark, penetrating eyes and ask, "Got any food,
I'm starved." I quickly add, "And not the meat dangling between your legs."

	He gets up to go into the kitchen while responding "Who the hell
said it's dangling?"

	Five minutes later, he hands me a bowl of hot stew and steaming
bread that warms my belly. We sit for an hour talking; amazingly, he's a
car mechanic so there's hope for the old beater stuck in the snow. After
another scotch, I realize I need to empty my bladder, excuse myself to the
john. I try to stand steady but may have had a little too much booze and
with the warmth of the house, I'm getting drowsy. I stumble back to the
couch and he tries to hand me another drink.

	"Hey, Will, enough. I gotta get some sleep. Where can I bunk down?"
I ask him, the words slur.

	"Only got one bed, man, and you're sitting on it so unless you want
to sleep on the floor..." He doesn't finish the sentence.

	It was then that I realize there aren't any other rooms. He shoves
me off the sofa-bed and pulls it down. I fumble for my bag to go brush my
teeth. When I get back, he's down to his boxers. Muscled frame, big beefy
chest covered in curly short hair, thick triangle covering his tight
abs. Huge ham-hock thighs and steely calves. He heads for the john.

	"Does it get cold in here at night?" I ask, not sure what to wear
to bed.

	"Not with the stove." He's standing along the door frame. "And with
two of us it's going to be hot. There's the down comforter and I generate a
lot of body heat so I don't recommend you wear much of anything unless you
want to sweat."

	So... what does that mean? I strip down to my jockey's and jump
under the covers to watch as he starts shutting off the lights. With his
back to me, he slips off the boxers and throws them on a chair. Huge,
muscular globes of his ass stare into my face. Slowly he turns around and
snaps off the bed-side lamp. I only get a shot glimpse of the long fat
fleshy, uncut tube poking out of the black bush. Not soft but not hard,
either.

	My fingers automatically dive into my crotch and wrap around my
erection. There's total silence in the room, not even a slight rustle while
I play with my cock. I hear his breathe; quiet, even and figure he's
asleep. I wriggle out of my shorts and free my shaft. He's right, it does
get warm and even naked I'm sweating.

	Just when I'm at the point of working up a nice quiet rhythm that's
making my dick tingle and ooze he groans and throws back the covers. "Too
damn hot." He mumbles.

	There's enough light to see his 8 inch slab pointing straight up to
his chest. Fucking right it's too hot. He starts playing with his tits with
one hand and grabs his heavy stick with the other. I'm about to cream
listening to this hunk beat his meat when he spreads his legs and begins to
play with his bull-bag. The only sounds in the room are the slap of flesh
on flesh and his escalating moans.

	The sound of his voice startles me. "You don't mind, do you buddy?"
His eyes don't open as he speaks. "Helps me sleep."

	I don't respond and he doesn't stop. I toss the covers back and
start jerking along with him, not bothering to hold back my own grunts. My
mind and body are so immersed in the pleasurable sensations centered in my
groin that I don't feel the bed shift. I feel the hot lips on my left tit,
the teeth bite gently, until I throw my head back in a silent scream. A
wet, scalding tongue snakes into my armpit, licks the sweaty hair.

	I feel the lips at my ear. "I'll make you a deal, Ryan." The voice
sensuous, deep, husky. Fingers that slither along my abs send a shiver
throughout my body. "I'll suck your cock on two conditions." The fingers
slide along the fat vein and circle my balls.

	"Anything." I whisper, my fingers graze through the mop of curly
hair to draw his scalding breath closer to my ear.

	"My tongue gets a taste of your butt-hole." My legs lift and
spread, as he speaks I feel a finger at my ass-ring, teasing the tight
opening. Suddenly Will's between my legs, he spits a hot bullet of saliva
onto my hole before he licks it up.

	"And the second?" I ask between groans.

	"I shoot first." He says taking his mouth of my ass briefly. His
tongue is working magic on my rose-bud, I'm loose and open as he plunges
repeatedly. He stops only momentarily. "I shoot all over your cock."

	I nearly lost it. The big hunk wants to cream all over my dick then
lick it up til I blast my own wad. I was about to say something stupid when
I feel my balls engulfed in warmth. It shuts me up. I lay back and enjoy
the pleasure of him eating my ass -- like a pro. Velvety warm, his tongue
glides across my crack, my bud flourishes, opens for him. It must have been
ten minutes before he unexpectedly rears up, he's been jacking off.

	"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He screams and I feel the scorching bullets of
his spunk splatter my groin. He buries the spouting head of his cum-gun
into my pubic hair and pumps his balls dry. I whimper, his mouth lapping
through my crotch hair; searching, seeking every drop before the lips wrap
around the rim of my knob and the tongue routs into the piss slit. He
suckles the sensitive head in his warm juice-filled mouth, my nuts tingle
when he swallows my cock, inch by solid inch, down his throat.

	I won't, no can't last long and he senses it as I writhe and squirm
while he sucks me off. In no time, I'm over the edge. He chokes briefly as
my blood engorged dick expands. I feel his fingers wrap around my nuts and
violently yank. I howl, nearly fly off the bed while I hold his head down,
fill his mouth with my crank and shoot my rich-load. He gulps and slurps,
volley after volley of hot juice erupt through my throbbing shaft

	For someone as big as him, he moves like a cat; quick, slyly,
quietly. Before I'm done draining my nuts, he's on top of me. I feel his
weight like bags of sand crush me. His lips on mine, the tongue in my mouth
feeds me the rich mixture of his, and my, cock-snot. We kiss, wrestle,
caress. Until the combination of heat, sex and booze engulf me and I drift
off to sleep.

	When my eyes open, it's dark, I'm disoriented. I feel a hand glide
down my spine, cup a butt cheek to pull me closer. Will's colossal chuck of
beef pounds into my belly, the damp sweaty chest grinds mine. Lips nibble
my neck while I drive my inflamed member against the weight of his body.

	"Ready to jump my bone now, Tiger?' He mumbles more asleep than
awake.

	"Mmmm...maybe." Was all I can reply.

	"Fuck" He whispers as he struggles out of my arms. "Stoke the
stove." I was asleep before he's back in bed.

	When I wake at sunrise I know it was but an hour or so since I'd
woken earlier. The house is warm and cozy, the wood stove heating it to a
perfect temperature. I roll over, Will's splayed out with the covers thrown
off. I time to study him in the soft light of the morning. His hands tucked
behind his head, snoring softly. The sharp curves of his elongated cheeks,
the strong nose, the chiseled chin covered in a morning growth of hair. His
thickly muscled chest with a pelt of black downy fur, his tits pouting out
stiffly, droplets of sweat corkscrew through the forest of silky curls in
his arm-pits. My eyes graze across the flat belly down to his feet, big and
bony. I muse that he's a living example that man must be descended from
ape. Even his toes are hairy. Powerful shins, enormous thighs coated in
dewy perspiration. I finally let my eyes fall to where they long to go.

	His cock is a work of art. No less than eight inches hard; steely
veins crisscross the length, the flange of his distended knob held
stretched by the tight skin, only the ruby top half of the mushroomed cap
with it's broad slit visible. His fat stalk throbs and I see the twin goose
eggs hanging loosely in their wooly sack slowly start their ascent toward
his warm body. He's too irresistible.

	There's a tiny whimper when my tongue skims the crown. I make a
slow descent, swallowing more and more of his trembling crank and the
throaty growls begin. He doesn't move, doesn't force, let's me consume the
monster meat between his legs. Only when I have him all the way down my
throat do I feel his hands on the back of my head; with no push, no
pressure. His fingers massage my skull while I devour him.