Date: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 15:13:10 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Stone Cold Sober

			     STONE COLD SOBER
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I groaned when I saw where Leon had driven us. "I can't go in there!"
I exclaimed, scandalized! "You know I'm on the program!"
     Leon had taken us to Ruby's, which had been our favorite place to
knock back some brews after a hard day's work, before I'd gone to AA and
renounced alcohol (well, you know what I mean, I'm simplifying a lot of
stuff here!) I'd told Leon I'd decided to turn over a new leaf two days
ago, damn it! I thought he was all right with it! So I'd agreed to let him
drive me home instead of taking the bus for a change, and what does he do?
Heads right for Ruby's!
     "So come inside!" Leon said. "You can order a cola, can't you?"
     "No!" I said. "I have to avoid any temptation for now! I shouldn't
even have gotten in this car with you! Shit!"
     "Hey, come on, Rod!" Leon complained. "Look, I'm sorry, just let me go
in and get myself a single beer to cut the sawdust out of my lungs and then
we'll go find ourselves a nice billiard hall that doesn't serve alcohol or
something."
     "Fine." I compromised. "But I'm staying here in the pickup until you
get done."
     "All right." Leon grumped. "I'll send you out a cola if they'll let
me."
     "Doubt if they will, but thanks." I said. "And thanks for
understanding."
     "Hey, you want to spend the rest of your life not having any fun, it's
your business."
     "I'm not trying to not have fun." I said patiently. "I'm simply trying
to stay sober."
     "Yeah." Leon agreed. "Stone cold sober. A laugh a minute."
     I sighed. "Yeah. A real laugh riot."
     Leon parked under a tin roof that covered one line of parking spaces
and left me in sole possession of his pickup truck. On warmer summer
nights, they'd have outdoor events here, fencing this area in so it was
still "indoors" in a sense. I considered where I was sitting, facing a
concrete wall. Hell, it was warm enough to sit in the back of the pickup,
and that would let me chat with the people coming and going out of the
bar. Better than sitting inside a pickup doing nothing. I couldn't even
listen to the radio; Leon took the keys with him. He had a thick woolen
blanket back there on the pickup bed, dirty and stained with oil and torn
here and there, but better than the bare pickup floor steel. With the
tailgate down and me sitting with my back against the back of the pickup
cab, I could see the people coming in through the parking lot to get to the
bar. Nobody was doing that just now, but hell, it was a bar, I wouldn't be
totally alone this way. It's important when you're in the program to not be
alone with temptation. And that bar was sending me a hell of a lot of
temptation!
     As if to underscore that, out came a big hulk I hadn't seen
before. "You Rod?" He asked me in gruff tones. I nodded and he produced a
can of red-and-white. A Coke! "This is for you." he said.
     "Hey, thanks!" I took the cola and felt it. God, but it was cold and
felt nearly as good as...a beer can. Hell! I opened it and chugged it.
     Felt the pickup buck up and down, my Good Samaritan was climbing into
the pickup with me.
     I got my first good look at him. Damn, large, muscled, slim-waisted
and slender-hipped, wearing a white short-sleeved t-shirt and blue jeans,
his work boots the same pale brown as his hair and looking as tousled and
disarranged, his grin was a twisted thing, like when you pull a prank on
someone and they haven't figured it out yet. He got into the back and
settled down next to me, hoisting a can of Budweiser for me to toast it
with him. I did, though my eyes were only on that can of Bud! He lifted his
can to his lips and I did the same with my Coke, drank big gulps of it,
wishing it were beer! Oh, God, I could just taste that Bud this guy was
drinking!
     He lowered the Budweiser at last and so did I my Coke, a good thing
for I had emptied the can. "Mind if I sit here with you a while?" He asked
me.
     "Sure." I agreed, tossed my can toward a trash can not that far
away. The can hit the rim, bounced off and away between two cars.
     "No score." he told me, drained his own can of Bud and did the same
trick; the can went right into the barrel like it had a homing device on
it.
     "Nice shot." I observed.
     "Thanks." he said. "Well, then, let's get to it."
     "Get to what?" I looked over and he had his hands on his fly and was
unbuttoning his jeans.
     "You know." He finished his unbuttoning job and reached in and fished
around. Caught hold and pulled out his whanger. Jesus, the thing was longer
than his fist and it was still completely soft! "Here you go."
     "What...? What do you...?" I stuttered.
     "Come on, get to sucking it!" he grunted and one beefy paw reached up
and shoved my head down at his crotch. His cock was stiffening up, and it
was growing as it did so. What was this thing, ten or twelve inches? His
hand shoved me again and this time my faced made contact with his dick, the
glans slapping my cheek. His fingers threaded into the hairs of the back of
my head and held it fast that way.
     "What the hell is this?" I wanted to know.
     "Shut up and suck it!" he growled at me. "I haven't gotten my rocks
off in two fucking weeks, you're going to suck it!" His other hand caught
hold of his prick and this time when he pushed my head down, he aimed it as
well. His glans smeared my lips, precome staining them with salty smears,
and he growled and pushed my head down harder. Either I opened my lips or
he was going to jab it through my face! I opened and the salty head jabbed
itself inside my mouth, I barely avoided scraping it with my teeth as he
did so, and then it was trying to cram itself down my throat!
     "Ahhhh, yeah, hell, yeah!" he groaned, and that huge prong of his
surged to full stiffness, hard as a rock, and that let him jab it right
into my throat!
     I gagged from that hard column of man-flesh, and he relented, grunted
as he pulled it back to where it merely filled my mouth totally full. "Now
get to sucking on it!" he ordered.
     I meekly obeyed. How had I gotten myself into this? I'd just been
sitting here, he'd brought me out the cola and next thing I knew he was
unleashing the monster and telling me to get busy with it! My lips plied
over his dong, the head and the top four inches, all I could handle without
gagging, but he didn't seem to mind much. His face was raised slightly,
eyes closed, his hand on my head still but only along for the ride as I
moved up and down, his lower jaw slightly extended, the entire set of his
features were softened with his delight. Light syllables of sound, sighs of
pleasure, slipped like pearls from the oyster of his lips, and his fingers
clenched, pinching my hair in short bright bursts of pain that heightened
rather than diminished my own enjoyment. There is a joy in pleasuring a
studly man, to feel the gigantic beast soft and pliant beneath you. It was
like I had conquered the demons both without and within, my sucking on him
was simply taking the fruits of my victory.
     Or so I'd thought, for when I was just getting myself into a real
rhythm and had his organ humming nicely, his hand clenched my head hair
again and pulled me bodily off him. "That's enough, man, enough!" he
panted. "Damn, but you're hot all right!"
     I looked at him with eyes that were blurry from my lust. "Let me do it
some more." I said. Not a question, not pleading, just a statement.
     "No way, I'm too fucking close. It's time for the main action." The
ferocity in his eyes left me in no doubt about what he meant.
     And I wasn't in a mood to argue with him. "All right." I said.
     He didn't let me help him, he was yanking off my shoes, not my
workboots for I left them at the site's lockerroom, I had simply
canvas-backs that I wore home each day. They came off easily, my feet were
bare underneath (my dirty socks were in my pants pocket), and then he was
pulling at my jeans. His strong arms flexed as he yanked them bodily from
my hips without even unbuttoning them! My boxers came partially with them
and then he had me bare below the waist and he was kneeling between my legs
and I raised them to help him get into position.
     I wasn't a total virgin when it came to anal sex, but it's not what
you think. I had a girlfriend some years ago, she was into some weird kinky
stuff. She had money and plied me with alcohol until I'd do some strange
stuff to make her happy. Like her stuffing a dildo up my ass. She got a
kick out of my whining in the agony of the dildo and that would get her wet
enough to let me fuck her. Providing I kept the dildo in place while I did
it.
     So I was more adventurous than most straight guys would be when it
came to having another guy plug you up the ass, and like I said, I wanted
that power back that pleasing this young stud was giving me. So I hiked my
legs up like I'd done for Brenda and he stuck his cock to my ass and I
waited for him to stuff it inside me.
     Still, the feel of his cock was a shock. The dildoes Brenda had used
on me had been hard things, unbudging. I'd never had one that dug into me
like a living thing, bending and flexing and sliding and catching like
this. My spit did a good job of lubricating it and my experience had done
the rest, but still...this was a man sticking his cock into me!
     A real, live cock. Feeling, living, vital, throbbing, huge,
vein-ribbed, velvet-skinned, the glans' flare a bump that worked like a
herald riding ahead of the shaft, and when it found my prostate, the choir
of angels began to sing like they'd never sung with all those dildoes of
Brenda's! It takes a live man's cock to bring out that particular song!
     So when he began to fuck me, I felt a surge of joy unlike any I'd ever
had before in my entire life! God, how long had I been doing without this?
Did society really expect men to never experience this in their entire
lives?
     He wasn't gentle with me, he shoved it on in deeper and then,
satisfied without about two-thirds of that gigantic dong in my ass, he
began to hump me. Long, slow strokes at first, but soon he was moving
faster and his thrusts were shallower. I didn't care, his prong still
rubbed my prostate with every stroke, and that was all it took for me to
ride the roller-coaster of ecstasy!
     I moaned and clung to his back as he rammed me with an increasing
roughness and that was right as well. I had the renewed sense of my own
power, for he had lost all his own control here, my body had wrung such
pleasure from him that he had no choice but to pound my butt for all he was
worth, he couldn't stop now if he wanted to and it was because of me, of
ME!
     The thought of my dominance here thrust my delight into the forefront
of my brain, my orgasm ignited and mauled my senses and I groaned, sprayed
my spunk liberally over his stomach and he felt the hot flood and he
groaned himself, "Aw, fuck, you bastard, you got it all over me, you
fucking...bastard...AH-HUNH-HUNH-HUNH-HUH-UHHHHHHH!" and he sprayed his
jizz up my ass, salty, stinging blasts of male potency that boiled inside
me. And with that, I knew I carried away all of this man's strength, for he
finished unloading it and slumped onto me, weak and pathetic and exhausted.
     He lay like that only a moment, then he rose up and on his knees,
pulled his jeans together and fastened them again. "Damned fine fuck!" he
told me.
     "Yeah." I said. "I know."
     "I'll be back on Tuesday night." he said as he got out of the
truck. "Same time as tonight."
     "All right." I agreed.
     I pulled my own boxers and pants back on and then my shoes and
stumbled into the bar. Leon was in there, and the fucker had bought himself
a fucking pitcher!
     I didn't care. That amber glow had lost its allure to me. Steps 1
through 12, done in the space of a single fuck in the back of a pickup
truck. Oh, I'd be tempted sometimes, but the overwhelming aspect of that
temptation would be gone.
     "You decide to come in?" Leon asked me, starting guiltily. "I came in
and they had the pitchers at half price. I was going to drink it quick as I
could and come back out again."
     "That's okay." I said. "Let's play a game of darts or two until the
pool table opens up."
     "Great!" Leon said. "You want some of this?" He indicated the pitcher.
     "Naw." I said. "I'm good. I'll get another cola, though."
     And that's how I made it out of my addiction to alcohol. Plenty of
people fight their addiction by becoming addicted to something else. My new
addiction is a hard, thick cock up my ass. Turns out that the parking lot
behind Ruby's is a place for gay men to hook up. So I spend lots of my
evenings after work back there behind Ruby's, feeding my new addiction.
     Just the price I pay for staying stone cold sober.

				  THE END
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