Date: Fri, 10 Jun 2022 23:29:47 +0000 (UTC)
From: "niftystories@yahoo.com" <niftystories@yahoo.com>
Subject: Drillin'TheDriller-Part1

Drillin' the Driller -- Part 1

This is a fictional story between 2 adult males set in Wyoming in the
1980s. While I did work in construction and oil drilling rigs in my
younger days, I used that experience for creating the setting and this is
a work of fiction. Pretty much. More or less. And please consider
supporting Nifty so that we may continue to enjoy these stories:
https://donate.nifty.org/

It was late January 1989; I'd been in Rock Springs Wyoming, for a couple
of months now. Things were going pretty well. I was the deck hand on an
oil drilling rig. I was 22, carefree and happy to be on my own. I'm
right at 6 feet tall with an athletic build, with long dark hair. Longer
hair than most of the redneck construction and oil workers around these
parts liked, but my attitude was `fuck `em' if they didn't like it.
I'm a lover, not a fighter, but I can take care of myself if needed. One
thing that set me apart from those around me is that I knew I had a
decided preference for boi pussy. I'm very `straight looking and
acting', which means that no one knew of my preference unless I wanted
them to know. And I only wanted them to know when I was ready to make a
move on them.

I'd grown up in Denver and in high school I had a good friend who I
`messed around' with regularly. I think it was Mike who started things
with a "I'll show you mine if you show me yours', and that quickly
progressed to jerking each other off and then sucking each other off, and
then to fucking. Mike loved getting the daylights fucked out of him, and
I loved giving it to him. But Mike's parents were pretty well to do, and
after high school Mike went off to some fancy college back east while I
stayed in Denver and started working in construction. I had dated girls
in high school and fucked a few, but had decided fucking guys was just a
hell of a lot more fun.

It was another dude on my construction crew who told me about oil
drilling rigs in western Colorado and Wyoming and how it paid almost
twice as much as I was making working construction in Denver. I was still
living at home with my parents, and heading out on my own making twice
the money sounded like a damn good idea. So, I headed out to Craig
Colorado. I quickly got hired on to a drilling crew as a "greenhorn",
someone new to the drilling business, and the low man on the totem pole,
meaning I got all the grunt work. But I enjoyed the work and the pay even
more, and loved being out on my own. You had to be damn careful with
approaching guys for some man-on-man fun, but every now and then I'd get
lucky. I'd finally turned 21, and found that if I plied them with beer
and pot it stacked the deck in my favor.

When we finished the well in Craig, Sam, my driller, asked if I'd be
interested in joining a crew in Rock Springs Wyoming. I shrugged my
shoulders and said "Yeah, I guess, why?" He told me his nephew Chad was
a driller on a rig there, his first job as a driller, and he could use a
good hand, and he thought I was a good worker. So, I agreed; he gave me
the name of the motel where Chad was staying at, and I headed off to Rock
Springs.

After checking at the motel office for Chad's room number I knocked on
the door. A tall, lanky guy with closely cropped dark blonde hair opened
the door and looked me over. "Yeah?" he began, "sompin' I can do for
you?". I introduced myself. "I'm Dave Parker. I was working for your
uncle, Sam Snead, on a rig down in Craig. We finished the well and Sam
told me you might be looking for a good hand. I'm a hard worker, I put
in an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. Chad continued to look
me over, considering, and then broke into a smile and stuck out his hand.
"Name's Chad Amboy, nice to meet you, Dave. Yeah, Sam called and told
me you'd be coming. Come on in".

I followed Chad into his room, and we sat down at a small kitchenette
table. I looked around the room, there were two double beds and what
appeared to be a bathroom off at the end, and small kitchenette with
counter and a sink, a small under counter refrigerator, and the small
table with two chairs we were sitting at. The walls were covered in
knotty pine paneling. "Nice room" I complimented. "Thanks" Chad
began, "I was lucky to get it. Places to stay are tight right now in
Rock Springs. They're building a coal fired power plant outside of town,
besides a bunch of oil drilling rigs. You got a place to stay?". I shook
my head, "No, I just got into town. The lady at the desk did tell me
they were full up". "Yep" Chad nodded. "You might have to stay over
at Green River, 30 miles down the road, to find a place to stay". He
stroked his chin, considering. "Tell you what" he began, "if you wanna
pay half the rent you can stay here and bunk with me, it's got two
double beds". "Oh no!" I immediately protested, "I couldn't intrude
on you like that, I'm sure I'll find a place". I looked into his green
eyes and then quickly looked down. I had the distinct impression I could
be in trouble here, Chad was hot as hell and I knew it would be a
struggle to not give myself away, to not give any hint that I thought he
was hot. "You don't snore, do you?" Chad laughed, or fart a lot?".
"No, no" I chuckled, "once my head hits the pillow I'm out for the
night. And as long as I stay away from beans I don't fart too much".
Chad reached across the table to shake my hand. "Done deal, then.
You're hired, and we'll bunk together".

We went out for a steak at a diner and had a couple of beers first. Chad
was on the skinny side, but he had a nice round little butt; I'd sneaked
a couple of peeks as we walked to his pickup and then into the diner. His
skin was naturally pale, the kind that never tanned. His green eyes
flashed with a slight look of mischief. His face was spotted with
freckles, his cheeks were blushed with red, giving that wholesome, fresh
kind of look. The skin of his face was smooth, covered with light peach
fuzz. I don't think he had to shave more than once a week. I guess you
could sum Chad up as having that wholesome, all-American boy next door
kind of look. But there were a couple of things about Chad that would
have immediately disqualified him for any all-American boy contest, if
they ever held such a thing.

The first thing about Chad was that he had a real gutter mouth. The word
"fuck" seemed to be about a fourth of his limited vocabulary. "The
fucking motherfucker really fucked that fucking thing up" was a typical
Chad expression. I kind of figured he talked that way to try to sound
'tougher', to overshadow his boyish good looks.

A second thing about Chad was that he was a shameless braggart, a
self-proclaimed God's gift to women. If you believe half of what Chad
claimed, he'd screwed every woman in New Mexico worth screwing, and had
screwed more than a few who weren't worth a fuck, out of an act of
kindness. But Chad didn't speak about women in very kindly terms. They
were always "bitches", "cunts', 'sluts' and 'whores' to him. And, while
he boasted of how many women he'd had, I noticed it was always in the
past, and somewhere else. For all his bragging of conquests, he sure
didn't seem to have anything going for him here in Rock Springs.

Another thing about Chad was that he was an easy drunk, two beers already
had him slurring his words. The other interesting thing about Chad was
that he seemed to have a fixation about men's asses, usually his own, and
something going in them. Guys he didn't like were usually described as
`butt fuckers', 'dumb butt fuckers', or `goddam cornholers'. If Chad
had gotten a bad deal on something, he would say "yeah, I really took it
up the ass on that one and had to bite the pillow", or "yeah, the guy
really stuck it to me on that one" and "I really got shafted that time".
For someone that claimed to be so hot for women, he sure seemed to have
anal sex on his mind a lot. When I added it all up I suspected that Chad
Amboy, all-American boy and self-proclaimed God's gift to women on the
outside, was really a frightened little homo boy on the inside. I figured
what Chad Amboy needed was a good hard dick up the ass and a nice, long
fuck to put him in touch with his inner self. But I'm not going to screw
things up and try to fuck my boss, I kept telling myself.

Work went fine the next couple of weeks, the other guys on the crew were
hard workers, and we made a good crew. We were driving back into town
after the swing shift out at the rig. Chad was sitting in the back with
me, blabbering away. He was telling me about how his truck had broken
down and, according to Chad, the garage owner had really "fucked him in
the ass" on the repair bill. He owed $250 bucks, and was without truck
and broke until payday. He wanted to get drunk that night. It was after
midnight when we got back to our place with two twelve packs of beer.
Chad and I sat at the kitchen table, chugging down beers and talking
story. Well, Chad chugged down the beers; he guzzled down four in the
first half hour, and already began to look glassy eyed, and slurred his
speech. I wasn't much of a drinker, but I didn't want Chad to know I
wasn't keeping up with him, so every time I'd get up to go take a leak
I'd dump most of my can of beer down the toilet. Chad was going on and
on, bragging about some chick he had balled back home in Gallop New
Mexico.  He claimed she gave the best head he'd ever had. I pulled out a
joint, which I much preferred to beer, lit it, and offered him some.

"Naw, naw, that's alright" he told me. "I don't mind if you go ahead and
smoke that 'wacky tabaccy', but it's just not for me. I tried it once.
This other chick I was ballin' once offered it to me, and I tried it.
Made me higher than shit, I didn't remember a thing I did the next
day". Interesting, I thought to myself, I definitely need to get him
high. "Don't be such a pussy" I challenged, "take a hit". Chad
glared at me, and then reached across and toke the joint. He took a large
hit, held it in, and then took another hit before handing it back to me.

"Hey" I said, taking advantage of the pause as he held his hit in. "You
wanna play some cards? How about a game or two of poker?"

"Sure, that sounds cool, little buddy" he readily agreed. Chad had taken
to calling me "little buddy" recently, and it annoyed the hell out of me;
we were both about the same size and age. I ignored it, and went to dig
out a deck of cards. I returned to the table and began to shuffle. "How
about 5 card draw?" I suggested. "One dollar ante, and minimum bet."

"Great" he replied. Then he remembered he had no money. "Oh, well, you
know I'm broke 'till payday, though. You'll have to spot me the cash
'till then."

"No way, dude" I protested. "You think I'm going to spot you until
payday? No thanks, you'll welch on your bet".

"Aw, man, you no I'm good for it, little buddy," he slurred. I shook my
head firmly.  "Well, to hell with you, then" he said. "We'll just have to
play without money if you don't want to front me."

"Aw, it's no fun to play poker without betting" I complained. "That's
like going to church and not praying. What's the point?"

"Well" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Want do you want to do, then?"

"Well . . ." I began slowly, stroking my chin, considering, and preparing
my smoothest, best conning voice. "It would be a lot more fun if we had a
couple of chicks here . . . .  but, well, we could play strip poker, I
guess. At least it would make it more interesting, and it won't cost us
anything."

"Strip poker?" he repeated, with obvious surprise. "With you?" he
considered, his beer- dulled senses not reacting too quickly. "You're
right, it would be a lot more fun if we had a couple of chicks to play
strip poker with. I dunno." He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess so.
Like you say, it won't cost us anything. How do you want to play it?

"Well, we just use our clothes for poker chips" I explained readily. "We
assign them chip values, and we just bet 'em just like poker chips. Shoes
and socks are all worth $5 each.  It's $5 ante, $5 minimum bet. Your
shirt is worth $10, undershirt $15. Pants are $20, undershorts are worth
$25".

"Well, I dunno . .. . " Chad said slowly, wavering.

"That's OK, man, I said quickly. "If you're too chickenshit, that's OK" I
bluffed. "No, no, wait!" Chad protested. "Hang on here. No need to be in
such a rush; I'm just starting to get a good buzz on here. Me?
Chickenshit? Hell, it'll be a cold day in hell before I take it in the
ass from you. I can kick your ass in poker anytime.  Deal 'em!"

I shuffled and dealt the cards. We played several hands pretty evenly. I
got Chad's shoes, socks and shirt at one point, and then he won them
back. He chugged down the beers constantly. The first twelve pack was
gone already. I'd cut back my dumping out my beers to conserve; Chad was
too far gone to notice I wasn't keeping up with him anyway. I rolled
another joint, and fired it up.

"Let me have some more of that" he slurred, taking me by surprise. I
handed it

to him quickly, though, and he inhaled deeply, like a pro. "I guess I
have smoked it a couple of times" he admitted. "Actually, I do kinda like
it, but it does make me really high. I lose control, and get myself into
trouble."

"Oh really?" I asked, reaching to take the joint back. "What kind of
trouble?"

"Oh, nothing" Chad quickly responded. He shrugged his shoulders. "It's
sometimes . . .  it, uh, makes me too high and I do things I shouldn't
do, and then can't remember what I did the next day."

"Well, that doesn't sound like trouble to me" I said. "Hell, anything you
can't remember the next day you can always deny, and say it never
happened" I told him, planting the seed for him. And I decided right then
and there that I was going to go for it.

Chad laughed. The pot really seemed to relax him, and he shed his tough
guy act. We began to laugh and tease each other, taunting the other would
'lose his ass' on the next hand. Finally, Chad had a luck streak, wining
several hands in a row. I was down to just my undershorts, worth $25.
Chad seemed to think he had an especially strong hand, and kept raising
the bet. After drawing two cards, he confidently raised the bet to $50.

"Fifty bucks!" I complained. "You can't do that! I only have my
undershorts, $25!"

"Guess you'll have to fold then, little buddy" Chad said, smirking. "I
guess you'll have to be in the buff the rest of the night."

"Come on, man!" I complained. I considered the options. "Give me a loan,
Chad. Just loan me my pants back for this hand. Give me a break here."

"What do you have for collateral for a loan?" Chad queried, an amused
look in his eyes.

"Whatever you want, man" I assured him.

"Well, then, I'll tell you what" Chad began slowly, deliberately. "If you
want a 'loan' to match my bet, you can bet a blow job." He paused, to
watch my reaction. I gulped, in faked alarm. "You win the hand, you get
all your clothes back" he continued, "You lose, you gotta suck my dick.
And," he added, you'd better be good at it."

"Aw man," I complained. "I can't do that"

"Take it or leave it" Chad said simply.

"Shit!" I swore loudly. "Fine. OK. No way you're going to beat this hand.
You're on."

Chad smiled. "OK, so what do you got?"

"Pair of Jacks" I declared confidently, laying the cards down on the
table. "Guess I get my clothes back."

"Not so fast" Chad chided. "Looks to me like you gotta suck my dick" he
told me, as he laid his cards down. The three queens seemed to be
laughing at me. "And" Chad continued, "you can start by handing over your
undershorts I just won."

"God damnit!" I swore. I continued to stare forlornly at his cards. I
couldn't appear too eager, or it would blow the whole game plan.

"Come on, come on. Pay up! Let's have those undershorts" Chad demanded.

"Sonnabitch" I muttered, standing up. I jerked my undershorts down,
pulled them off, and threw them in Chad's direction. I looked down,
checking my cock quickly.  I hoped it wasn't hard, giving me away.
Fortunately, it was just beginning to stiffen, the thick head of my cock
hanging down. While pretty average in the dick department, I always liked
the way my dick looked. Maybe 7" when hard as a rock, it was nice and
thick.  The circumcised head was wide and round. I looked up, to see Chad
staring at my hardening dick. "Like what you see?" I teased.

"Just checking out the competition" Chad assured me. "And it doesn't look
like I have any" he added confidently.

"Oh yeah?" I chuckled. "Well, let's see what you've got."

Chad shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? You're going to be choking on it
in a minute."  He stood up and peeled off his t-shirt. He unbuckled his
belt, unzipped, and pulled off his jeans and undershorts in one swift
motion. He kicked them free from his feet, straitened up, and there it
was. The son of a bitch was already hard as a rock. His stiff cock
pointed out a good 9", and was at least 2" thick. It was straight as an
arrow, capped by bulbous angry red head. His balls were huge, hanging
freely down from his cock. It was all nestled in a thatch of thick light
brown pubes. While Chad was smooth chested, a trail of light brown hair
trailed from his navel down into the thatch of pubic hair.  I gulped. It
was all much better than I had imagined from my peaks I'd sneaked while
he had stripped to take a shower.

"Oh, don't let it scare you" Chad said, misreading my thoughts. "That's
the reaction I usually get - from chicks. But, they manage to handle it.
You will, too.  Come here." He coaxed. "Come over here and suck my dick,
little buddy."

"Aw man," I protested. "I can't do this. I can't suck your dick" I lied.
"Please? Please don't make me do this."

"You lost, fair and square," he said firmly. "You're the dumb son of a
bitch who bet a blow job. Now it's time to pay up." He sat down and
spread his legs widely.  "Come on, Dave. Suck on it for me. Suck on it
real good for me."

I stepped toward Chad, hesitatingly. His cock pointed out at me,
painfully stiff. I felt my own cock twitch in anticipation. Chad noticed
it. "Looks to me like your cock likes the idea of all this" he observed.
"Hmmm? You like the idea of sucking my dick, little buddy?"

"Fuck you" I told him.

"Oh yeah?" Chad challenged. "I bet you'd like that, to fuck my sweet
little ass.  Hell, you'd probably like it so much you'd never go back to
women." Chad's voice was becoming a hoarse, forced whisper. I knew he was
pretty high from all the beers, and even higher from the pot he had
smoked. But now he was sounding like he was drunk, drunk with lust.
"Well, too bad you won't get a crack at my ass. You're going to suck my
dick instead. Come on now, suck my dick, damn it."

I lowered myself to my knees. My face was inches away from his dick. I
opened my mouth tentatively, and began to press forward. I stopped when
my lips were almost touching the head of his dick, pulled back, and
looked up at Chad.

"Please?" I whispered pleadingly. "Please, Chad? Please don't make me do
this."

"I don't care," Chad whispered hoarsely. "You're gonna have to do it."

He reached out with his arm, placed his hand on the back of my head, and
pulled me toward him. My lips brushed the head of his dick. I opened my
mouth and took the head of his dick. I sucked on it, and ran my tongue
over the head. The tip of my tongue found his piss slit and pressed it
open.

"Oh yeah!" Chad gasped. I pressed forward, burying more of his cock in my
mouth.  I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, and sucked
hungrily.

"Yeah, yeah" Chad whispered hoarsely. "Do it! Do it! Suck my cock, little
buddy."

I pressed forward. The head of his cock pressed against the back of my
throat, forced the opening wider, and then slid down my throat. It
pressed deeper, downward, until my nose was buried in his thatch. My hand
found the end of his ball sac, gripped around his balls, and gave a tug.
His cock twitched in my throat. I pulled back until the head of his cock
lodged at the opening of my throat, and then dove forward swiftly,
ramming his cock down my throat. Then I did it again, and gain, as I
pulled on Chad's balls.

"Ah, fuck!" Chad gasped. "That feels so fucking hot, man! Do it! Do it to
me, man!"

I pulled back, pulling my mouth from Chad's cock, and gulped for air. I
began to lick his cock, working from the head to where the head
disappeared into his thatch and then worked my way back up. I wrapped my
lips around the head, sucked greedily, and then worked my tongue down the
other side.

"God damn!" Chad cried out in pleasure. "You are one hell of a cock
sucker! You're giving me the best head I've ever had. You must have had
lots of practice or something.  Are your some kind of cock sucking homo
or something?"

I pulled my head off of his cock, and shook my head. "No," I lied, "I've
never done this before, until tonight, until you made me suck your dick."
I shrugged my shoulders. "But the way I figure it, if you're going to do
something, you might as well do it right and give it all you got."

"Well, you're doing it good, alright," Chad assured me. He reached out
and put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me toward his rigid
cock. "Give me all you got. Suck my cock."

I dove on his cock, plunging it deep into my throat. Then I pulled back
until the tip of his cock was just in my mouth, sucked hungrily, and then
plunged it back into my throat. Then I did it again and again. Chad
gasped with pleasure. I worked my hand up his ball sac to the bottom of
his cock and then explored downward, all the while slurping greedily on
Chad's cock. My fingers found the opening of his ass, really close to the
base of his balls. I rubbed my finger around the opening of his ass and
then pressed inward, and twirled around the puckered bud. Chad opened his
legs wider, giving me better access. I removed my finger and stuck it in
my mouth and sucked. The taste from his hole was musky, but sweet. I
coated my finger liberally with saliva, pressed against his hole, and
pressed inward. His puckered hole resisted, and then relented as the tip
slipped into the warmth inside his hole. Chad spasmed, and his ring
clamped down around my finger. I dove down on his cock with my mouth,
sucking hard, slurping loudly. Chad relaxed, spread his legs widely, and
his ring relaxed around my finger. I pressed my finger inward carefully,
slowly, until my knuckle pressed against his bud and then slipped in. I
twirled my finger around his hole, working it back and forth. Chad slid
back into the chair, giving me better access to his ass. I began to dive
down on his cock with my mouth, plunging deeply, swirling my tongue
around his cock, and then pulling back until his cock popped from my
mouth with a loud sucking sound. Then I dove back on it, and then again
and again.

Chad began to sigh softly "That feels kinda weird, your finger up my ass"
he whispered. "But don't stop, keep on doing what you're doin'". I
looked up at his face, his cock buried in my mouth. His head hung
backward over the back of the chair.  His hand was over his tit, his
finger pinching and toying with his nipple.  His eyes were clenched shut
tightly, his mouth opened in an "O" as he moaned. He was lost in world of
his own, lost in the feelings coming from his cock and his asshole. I
pressed my finger into his hole as far as I could, meeting no resistance.
The tip found the hardness of his prostate, and the rubbed its way around
it, and poked against it. Chad stiffened. I buried my nose against his
thatch, his cock buried in my throat. I felt his cock stiffen in my
throat and his prostate harden against the touch of my finger. He was
close to shooting his load. I pulled my finger swiftly from his hole and
pulled my mouth back off his cock. His cock popped from my mouth with a
loud slurping sound. I pulled away, and stood up.

"Whaaaat?" Chad stammered, opening his eyes in surprise. "What are you
doing man? I was . . . . I was getting close to shooting".

"I know" I said nonchalantly. "That wasn't our bet - to get you off. Our
bet was just that I had to suck your cock."  I shrugged my shoulders.
"I've sucked your cock.  I've paid my bet. Get yourself off." I walked
over to my chair, and sat down.

Chad looked me with disbelief.

To be continued . . .