|Rest Stop Pt. I
by Bob Peale ©
Author's Note: STOP!!!
If you've read most of my stories before, you should probably be warned that THIS ONE IS DIFFERENT.
I've had a lot of requests to write a story with a homosexual storyline. This story represents my second attempt to do so. If male/male activities are not your thing, you probably won't like this one. Oh well; I'll catch you next time.
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Disclaimer: This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.
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Jeff had been driving this route for 4 months now, which was 4 months longer than he’d intended. Generally, his clients were all within a 20-mile radius of his house, but this was a key engagement for his company, so he’d agreed to travel temporarily. One week had soon given way to one month, which morphed into three, and now it looked like he might be coming down here for as many as nine. Bonus and per diem aside, this was really starting to suck. His girlfriend had come down a few times so that they could have a long weekend on the company, but during the week he was pretty much on his own.
Early on in the assignment, he’d decided that if he was going to make this damn trip at all, he sure as hell was going to do it in comfort. He adopted a standard travel attire of a t-shirt and loose fitting, high cut gym shorts, even if he left from the office rather than his apartment. He’d been working out like a madman in preparation for beach season, so any t-shirt he choose stretched tightly across his chest, showcasing rather than hiding his well muscled chest and the chiseled ripples of his stomach.
Also, he usually didn’t bother with underwear or shoes. The drive was over three hours if there was no traffic, and if he had to stop it was usually in some backwater town that didn’t care what he had on anyway. And it felt good to let his cock, and easy 7" flaccid, hang free during the ride. He just had to remember to adjust his shorts before he went into a restaurant or gas station, otherwise people might see a little more than they bargained for.
Since the summer season had started, he’d been lucky enough to leave in the afternoon during the week, avoiding the beach bound traffic. So of course, the first time he left on a Saturday afternoon, he was surprised to find that traffic slowed to standstill 30 minutes outside the city. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad, except he’d downed a 32 ounce bottle of water before he left his house, expecting to be well on his way before he would need to go to the bathroom. After an hour, he was searching the road signs frantically for a place to relieve himself before he ruined his car. Unconsciously, he reached down to squeeze his cock, as if he could somehow hold back the building pressure that was threatening to spray piss all over his dashboard any minute.
An added advantage to his attire was easy access to his package; sometimes during the ride, when the road wasn’t too crowded, he’d play with his cock while he drove, giving the soccer moms driving SUVs and minivans an impromptu show. The knowledge that other people could see him kept him rock hard, and he was now at a point where he could stroke himself for the whole ride down, nearly 3 hours, without cumming. Of course, whenever he teased himself like that, even before he checked into the hotel he would drive into town and find some chick who’d had a little too much to drink and drill the shit out of her, letting loose a gallon of cum, his cock crammed deep in her while she choked back her cries and other evidence of arousal.
His cock hardened instantly, unaware that this wasn’t one of his usual exhibitionist displays. He closed his eyes as a warm feeling spilled over him, delighted at the feel of it thickening. The blare of horn brought him back as his car began sliding into oncoming traffic. He’d been so horny lately! He couldn’t remember a day in recent memory when he hadn’t cum two or three times, sometimes just from jerking off, sometimes from a hot and heavy fuck session, and frequently from a combination of both. The dull ache in his balls and groin was soon competing with the urgent need to pee, providing a painful yet pleasant distraction to the traffic, as well as his dilemma. Several people beeped to show their appreciation for his show, but Jeff was concentrating too much on the conflicting stimuli to notice.
Mercifully, he finally spotted a sign for a rest area just below West Point. Trying to stay in control he maneuvered toward the exit ramp, glad that he wouldn’t have to try to use the bathroom in a restaurant or shop. There was no way he was getting his prick back in his pants before he’d be able to get into the bathroom.
Pulling into the parking lot, he jumped out of his car, and padded barefoot toward the restrooms. His cock jutted out in front of him, the cockhead purple, the shaft slick with precum and pushing the leg of his shorts aside. He wouldn’t be able to pee if he stayed this hard, but he could get positioned so that when he softened he’d be ready to go. A few tourists averted their eyes in embarrassment as he passed, but Jeff was in no condition to be embarrassed himself.
He felt the pressure build to near explosion as his mind registered that his objective was in sight. He increased his pace to a half-walk/ half-jog, lunging for the first unlocked stall, grateful that he'd been able to hold out as long as he did. Crime was not really a problem in this part of the country, and the rest stop had escaped most of the "modernization" that had claimed similar facilities. All of the stalls still had doors, a rarity in this day and age because muggers had taken to hiding behind them and preying on innocents. Also, the stall walls stretched from floor to ceiling, providing privacy as well as a modicum of soundproofing, allowing a person to do their business in relative solitude.
As the door swung open, he stopped in his tracks; two guys were crammed inside. One stood on the seat of the toilet, squatting, while the other, facing away from Jeff, was licking the shaft of the first man’s cock. It was amazing that he could reach it; the man was much taller than Jeff (who only stood 5’4", making his substantial cock look enormous), at least 6’3" or 6’4", and almost as broad as the stall. He bent easily from the waist, as if he was hinged. Both men were able to keep quiet enough that from the outside, you’d have no idea what was going on.
"Oh e-e-e-excuse me," he stuttered embarrassedly, standing transfixed in the entrance to the stall.
He didn’t move, and neither did the men in the stall, save for the slow steady licking. He’d never seen two guys going at it before, and couldn’t help staring. The guy up on the toilet looked like he was average height, also taller than Jeff but probably not more than 6’, with sandy blonde hair cut shaggy and a thick goatee. His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored as the other man continued to coat his cock with saliva. He had his arms spread wide to brace himself against the sides for balance, and Jeff could see that he was straining to keep from thrusting his hips at the other man’s face, an action that surely would have toppled him. He had on a baggy t-shirt and his jeans were pulled down far enough that the other man could get at his cock.
The man doing the licking was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that looked like a second skin, but then again, they probably didn’t make many clothes big enough to cover him properly. His hair was black and cut military short, but Jeff couldn’t see his face. His neck and arms were deeply tanned, and he stood with one hand bracing himself against the back wall while the other did something in front of him that Jeff couldn’t see. The muscles on his arm (and everywhere else, Jeff suspected) were thick and rigid, obviously the result of exhaustive hours in the gym. Where Jeff was more lean and tight, this guy was huge, bear like, with the kind of build that even science can’t help you get without a healthy dose of genetics. As he continued to survey the action in the stall, the man on the toilet opened his eyes and looked at Jeff. They were a watery brown, not exactly vacant, but not overly sharp or intelligent either.
"Either come in and join us or get the hell out. I’m not interested in giving the whole room a show," he growled huskily, his irritation tempered by his arousal.
Startled, Jeff backed away and let the door close. He heard the lock slide into place.
Stunned, Jeff made his way down the row, looking for an empty stall. He finally found one at the end, the one outfitted for handicapped use. He opened the door and slipped inside. Surprisingly, the scene hadn’t done anything to make him less aroused than he was when he got out of the car, and he had to concentrate in order to get the piss flowing. He was finally able to empty himself, the pressure so bad that he had to pee in spurts to get it all out.
Relieved, he dropped onto the seat, his cock falling free and brushing the coolness of the rim, stiffening again. He knew he’d never make the rest of his trip in this condition, he was too turned on, and so he quickly slid out of his shorts and started to pump his hand along the shaft of his cock. He shivered with anticipation as he felt the cum start to collect again in his balls, and he quickly slipped off his t-shirt so that he had total freedom. He closed his eyes, giving in to the sensations, not really thinking about anything other than his approaching orgasm.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" a voice interrupted the silence.
The voice was accompanied by the sound of the stall door crashing in.
He was far too involved in the act of masturbating to stop now. In the recesses of his mind, he identified the voice as belonging to the guy that had been getting his dick sucked further down the row of stalls.
"Hey Tank, I think our new friend is a little turned on," the voice continued.
His rational mind told Jeff to stop stroking his cock, to grab his clothes and get the hell out of there quick, but he honestly couldn’t. His cock, now rock hard and extended it’s full 10", demanded satisfaction. He wasn’t going anywhere until he shot.
"And look at the pipe on this guy," said another voice. "That’s a nice fucking cock."
Again, deep down somewhere, Jeff made the connection that this new voice must belong to "Tank", the big guy that was sucking off the other one. Jeff’s head was back, resting against the tiled wall, his cock throbbing hotly in his hand as he moved it smoothly up and down. Involuntarily he spread his legs, revealing large, swollen balls and resting against his taut, muscled thighs.
"Mitch, I really think we need to help this guy out," Tank said thoughtfully. "I’d hate to think that we could have made him more comfortable and we didn’t."
Walking in and locking the stall door behind them, the two men quickly removed their shoes and socks and unzipped their pants in near unison. By the time Jeff was able to gather the resolve to open his eyes, the two men were nude and in front of him. The stall wasn’t quite wide enough for them to be standing side by side, so Tank stood slightly behind Mitch.
To Be Continued...
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