Make it Home

The road ahead somehow seemed smaller than during the day. As if the lanes were narrower and the stretch of pavement just ahead of his vehicle could end at any moment and he and his car would go careening into an endless abyss.

There were so few other cars or lights, the emptiness of the desert felt all encompassing. There were no people here, just darkness, no lights, just the lousy twenty feet of asphalt that his lousy car managed to illuminate ahead of him, nothing seemed to exist on either side. He didn't like the imposed blindness, the near total absence of other cars. He felt exposed, at risk, tired and if he was honest, a little sleepy. He needed to pull over, but here? There was no way he was pulling over in a dark moonless night onto a shoulder he could not even see.

His eyes started scanning the horizon but the space between the California border and Tucson was mostly desolate country populated by skeletons of former towns, dead dreams and every once in a while, a few misfits who found the only place they fit in was a place with no structure. There were towns with names like Dateland and Aztec, if you could stretch the term town to include a closed down gas station and a couple of mobile homes.

Tom finally saw a sign for a rest stop. It would have been better to arrive home that night but he was still hours away and knocking on the front door at his aunt's house at two in the morning seemed an unnecessary risk. He just needed to make the 28 miles to the rest stop and he would sleep off the exhaustion from his course finals earlier that week at San Diego State University, where the 6'2" tennis player had put in the best academic and sports performance of his life thus far, winning first place at nationals and three of his last four regional meets. In his courses, the fair skinned, brown haired Latino that no one thought was Latino had also done quite well, finishing his junior year with a 3.78 GPA.

The hope of a rest stop coming was enough to relax Tom and he felt his head wanting to nod. This would not do. He opened the window but the air was intolerably hot and dusty. He slapped himself but this was temporary and unpleasant. As a last resort, he leaned back and pulled the waistband on his shorts below his loose testicle sac, filled with large plum size balls that he loved to shove down girls' throats when they would let him. They almost never let him and usually only one at a time. Casey, his last girlfriend, had said it was offensive to ask him to suck his balls, she insisted it was demeaning. As if licking her twat three days into a shower less hike because she needed to cum wasn't demeaning. At least he'd washed his balls before she'd come over. He kicked her out that night and had not dated again as their breakup happened at the start of the final month of the term.

He needed to think of something besides Casey if he was going to get hard. Out of habit, he brushed his hair back with his hand, pulling his bangs off his forehead, pushing his hair into his skull as if this time, unlike every other time, it was going to stay pinned back. He was thinking about his favorite porn. His mind went directly to the movie his friend had played a few months back when they agreed to jack off together, as they had done a few times before.

They were both sitting on the floor with a laptop in between them. It was supposed to be a gang bang video, the thumbnail had a chick getting spit roasted by two massive guys. To their enormous shock and surprise, the guys did start spit roasting her per routine porn protocols, but then things took a turn as the two men proceeded to kiss one another, leaning over her back as they fucked her face and pussy. One guy went down on her, licking at her clit and hairless snatch, while the second guy was still fucking her. Maybe the kissing was just a onetime thing, but no, not a onetime thing at all. To the horror of both jocks, the muscle stud that was supposed to be performing oral pulled his buddy's cock out of the slut and put it in his mouth, stealing the cunt's load!

It did become an orgy eventually, but an orgy of seven guys and one girl and all the guys were sucking on one another, it was probably only a matter of time before they were fucking too. Tom knew someone should shut the shit off but when he looked over at his buddy Rory, he was looking right back at him, his mouth wide open. In shock, both had stopped jacking off yet both were hard as rocks, leaking precum like old sieves.

"What the fuck kind of move did you get Rory!" Tom shouted at his friend, less asking than accusing.

"I don't know dude!" Rory stammered, "It was an orgy, and had the chick on the picture."

Still, no one shut it off. Rory, also a tennis player and one year younger than Tom took the opportunity to reveal something about himself as he suddenly decided to put all his cards on the table. Life handed him an opportunity and he decided to take the leap.

Rory was only one inch shorter than Tom but had about 20 pounds on him, all muscle. His coach kept asking him to lose weight but it felt like a sin to lose strength and Rory loved how his taut, silky skin stretched over every inch of muscle on his chest and rippled along his abs. He took pride in seeing how the striations on his les, especially his hamstrings, popped and gave his ass a perfect upturned shape.

The blond tennis player, already shirtless, leaned over towards Tom and gripped his dick. Tom didn't say anything, he was befuddled and had no clue that Rory would be interested in holding his 8 inch cock. But here he was, and it felt amazing. Rory's hand was large, soft to the touch but strong when it tugged or squeezed. It was like wrapping his cock in a silken sleeve with an arm wrestler's grip.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Tom asked, his voice slow and the tone failing to communicate even a modicum of rejection.

Rory's green eyes, filled with a wistful want and an earnest hope, stared directly into Tom's and he replied, "What I wanted to do the day I met you, the day we first showered together."

Tom could feel Rory's hand pumping faster. He was gripping all the way to the top of his dick head down to the base, covering and uncovering his glans with foreskin with each stimulating trip of his teen-girl smooth hands.

"You wanted to jerk me off?" Rory asked, his voice betraying the joy and pleasure his blond buddy's hand was giving him.

"No, that wasn't it," Rory said, leaning forward and in one elegant movement, taking in Tom's entire dick into his mouth and throat.

Tom struggled to take in another breath. He wanted to object but Rory had the upper hand, the element of surprise. By the time he could speak, Tom was also moaning as Rory's mouth felt amazing.

"Dude, you can't do that," Tom objected, his hand pushing Rory's head down to swallow his entire cock again. "This shit isn't right."

This was the lean athlete's last protest. He found himself enjoying the feeling and the sound of Rory's gagging on the head of his cock every time he took Tom deep into his gullet. He loved the feeling of Rory's tongue on his dickhead. Whenever he would pull up for a little air, he always paused a few seconds to run large circles with his tongue all around the bright pink knob.

"Ah yes, that's it buddy, lick my piss slit, lick my cock clean," Whatever Tom proposed, Rory seemed eager to perform.

Tom then grew bolder and instructed his muscular colleague to suck on his balls. "That's right, take them both into your mouth, suck them for me, at the same time, c'mon run your tongue all over them, you wanted this, make it worth my while."

Even before it was over, Tom was convinced it was the best blowjob of his life, by far. Rory had not only suckled on his cock for twenty minutes, taking all 8 inches repeatedly, he had tongue washed his sweaty balls and rimmed his hole. He was a dirty skank on a whole other level. When it had been time to jizz, Tom had decided Rory should gargle and swallow every last drop.

"Take me all the way down you fucking fag," Tom had ordered, noticing as things progressed that the more aggressive he was the more eager Rory seemed to become. "Fucking cock sucker, I am going to paint your insides with my baby batter and you are going to fucking swallow every drop or you can forget this ever happening again. Is that fucking clear?"

Rory nodded and barely flinched when Tom slapped him hard across the face. "What do we say when someone asks a question you dirty fucking fag?"

"Yefff ffir," Rory replied, his mouth full of more cock than he had ever experienced, or at least since his first time back in Minnesota with his cousin Luther.

"That's right. I am going to reward your face pussy with some delicious cum, that was an excellent blowjob, I can tell you've been doing it a long time. It's a shame they don't give out degrees in cock sucking, you'd have your PhD by now," Tom added.

To finish off, Tom grabbed onto Rory's blond curly locks and his ears in rough fistfuls and held the 19 year-old in place while he fucked his throat with abandon. Tears streaming down his face, gobs of slime spewing out the sides of his stretched out, gaping face hole, his eyes shot red with blood from all of the coughing; nothing mattered to Tom, what mattered was spewing his jizz as deep into Rory as possible.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum! Take it faggot! Take it in your fucking lungs, I don't give a fuck, take every fucking drop!" he pushed Rory's face deep into his full, untrimmed bush. Rory was swallowing cum furiously, gripping Tom's cock with his throat each time he did, he was trying to find air somewhere, even with his face buried in a thick mass of potent man pubes.

When he had spent his load, Tom fell back on the floor. "Clean my dick, fag."

"Yes, sir," Rory said as he advanced on his knees, making sure that Tom's dick and balls were completely clean of cum, spit or slobber.

Tom looked over at Rory and immediately knew they were no longer friends. Something had broken. Rory was now a service animal.

And now, on the road, searching his spank bank for inspiration, Tom realized that the memory of the first Rory blowjob was a million times better than any porn he had watched. Part of him missed his friend but after he had swallowed cum and licked sweaty assholes, it was impossible to look at him with any respect. They weren't equals anymore. Rory was a cock hungry fag who would do anything for cock, and Tom had obliterated any guard rails that might have kept him from completely humiliating the sophomore the night he invited the entire tennis team over. But his blowjobs were exquisite, you had to hand it to him.

Looking down, Tom realized he had jerked himself to completion, fueled by the memory of Rory's sloppy mouth that first night. He took off his shirt which had several wet streaks on it from the jets of cum he had spewed. He used the back side of the shirt to clean himself off and threw it in the back seat of the car.

When he turned back to look at the road, up ahead, less than a mile away, he could finally see the lights of the Mohawk Rest Area.

As he planned to sleep, Tom pulled into a spot far from the service area where the bathrooms were far too brightly illuminated, tacky southwestern architecture and decorations were back lit, as if all ugly things needed to be redeemed and made beautiful was better lighting. About fifty feet away from him and even further from the public areas, a couple of RV's were parked near one another, two families seemed to have positioned themselves so that the RV's were face to face and the space between them became a small private courtyard. Tom could faintly hear voices and country music playing softly, he could also see that they had set up a playpen for animals on one side of the makeshift courtyard and at least two yellow labs were lazily dealing with the desert heat.

Tom thought about sleeping in his car but unless he planned to run the A/C all night, a big ask for his 15 year old clunker, he would need to sleep with the windows open. He tried to make himself comfortable but after only a few minutes, he hated the way the faux leather stuck to his skin and how unpleasant it was to breathe as the vehicle slowly turned into a metal oven.

"Fucking hell," he muttered as he exited his car to fetch a sleeping pad and bag from his trunk. He walked into the dark trees, lighting his way with his cell phone flashlight, and eventually found a picnic table in the back of the tree grove. Some branches and leaves rustled above him, possibly a eucalyptus from what he could see on the ground, perhaps some desert willows or mesquites. It didn't matter except that the trees and the open ground beneath the table, all facilitated the movement of air. Even a breeze of 95 degrees felt like a wondrous relief. He threw the mat on top of the table, there was no way he was sleeping on the ground in the middle of the desert, he'd already been bitten four times by scorpions and narrowly missed a rattler bite when he was just ten years old. The sleeping bag he set down as a pillow and jumped on top of the table to try and sleep.

"Hmmmmm. Argh. Oh fuck, so good!" someone was whispering. Tom was being pulled from deep sleep, he had been exhausted after resting so little for the better part of a month and the feeling of air circulating around him, in this otherwise oppressive heat, had all lulled him into a comfortable rest. Now, slurping sounds and the feeling of his dick being constricted, or perhaps it was being massaged by something wet and fleshy, added to the voices he was hearing, and he was now wide awake. He opened his eyes without moving, it was after all a blowjob out in the middle of the desert and he did not want to spook whomever was doing him a solid.

"So fucking big, it's delicious. I think he came earlier, it has spunk taste," the compression created by the pair of full lips that was traveling the length of his shaft, was magical. In the dark, with nothing distracting him, he could feel the lips as they pressed against and over the thick veins that ran the length of his meat. The cock sucker's tongue was also working hard, lapping and pressing against his dick but more spectacularly underneath his dickhead where the eager author of this blowjob flicked at his frenulum and licked it, treating it like a clit.

"He's leaking, so fucking hot!" the voice said as he released Tom's dick from his mouth but held on to the base with his hand, jerking him gently so as not to wake him, at least that had probably been the plan.

A new mouth, a new blowjob, replaced the first. "Shit!" he spit out between gag free deep dives. "This is fucking incredible, his balls, they're enormous!"

His was the better blowjob, he was massaging Tom's balls, at times licking them, but it was his cock work that stood out. The pressure was constant and constantly changing. He sucked on Tom like making love to the cock was the only thing keeping him alive. He somehow managed to maintain a constant vacuum-like seal that pulled blood into his meat tube and fired all the millions of nerve endings, sending chills into his spine. Tom could feel himself starting to gasp for air, the cocksucker put Rory to shame! The throat work alone should have been written about in poems, it was exactly like entering a warm, moist pussy except wetter and tighter. In fact, Tom's mind immediately traveled to the first time he pushed through Rory's sphincter, the tightness and the heat he felt exploring his rectal walls, "Hmmmmmmm."

"Oh shit," the sucking stopped. Full silence followed as the two men seemed compelled by nature's instinct to freeze, hoping no one had noticed them sucking on a sleeping stud in the rest area.

Tom hated that he had just made noise but in his defense, it was so fucking good he was close to cumming, he had felt it. But now that they knew he was awake, the jig was up.

"Dudes," Tom said, pretending to be sleepier than he was, "what the fuck, you can't just walk up to people and suck them off, you could get the shit beat out of you."

"That's Ok," said the first young man, stepping closer to Tom, "you can slap us all you want, if that means we can keep sucking your dick."

The second man, the better cocksucker who had frozen in place holding Tom's engorged dick, came around the other side of the table. "We really don't mind what you want to do to us, can we please keep sucking? Your meat is amazing, it's fucking hot and tastes delicious, I want your load so bad!"

The better cocksucker slowly walked back to Tom's dick and lowered his head to take the tennis player's bulbous testicles into his mouth. He should give a masterclass on this too, thought Tom, he would sponsor Casey's tuition.

Tom let out a moan. The young man's tongue was dancing some exotic ballet inside his mouth, caressing and pressing each of Tom's balls, at times sucking them both and stretching out his scrotum, at times pushing his entire face into his pelvis trying to actually swallow his testicles. "Fuck, that's the best! You are one fucking talented mouth. I'm gonna call you Mouth."

Tom lay his head back down to enjoy a few more minutes of exquisite ball washing that had him dripping pre-ejaculate all over Mouth's head. He could feel the wet patch when he gripped Mouth by the hair and yanked him over his cock, then pushed him down fast and hard on the rigid pole. What would have wrecked almost any other man, given Tom's girth and length, Mouth took with ease and obvious pleasure. He was well trained.

The second young man stayed closer to Tom's head, leaning down to explore the tennis player's upper body. His hands ran over and caressed the thick, muscular arms while his tongue licked and played with his unusually large nipples, a masculine capstone to the broad, square muscles that formed his pectorals. At times he would lick through the light dusting of hair that ran the lower ridge line of Tom's chest, at times he would kiss his way down Tom's abdomen, stopping to tenderly lick the outline of each abdominal, clearly defined and outlined underneath a youthful, tanned layer of skin.

Tom had never been licked like this or for so long, but like the cocksucking that was about to make him drop a massive second load for the evening, this was expert play. "That's some tongue work, feels amazing! Go back to my nipples," he grabbed another fistful of hair and repositioned the man over his right pectoral. "I'm gonna call you Tongue. Play with my nips, fucker."

"You can still kick our ass if you want," Tongue whispered. "We deserve it."

Tom scowled, "No, this feels good, shut the fuck up and do what you were told."

"Yes, sir," Tongue replied and immediately began to suck on one of Tom's nipples while pinching the other, playing with pressure and technique to see how much Tom could take.

Tom loved this and between the pleasure of having his tits twisted and pinched by these strangers, the ball wash and the amazing face rectum he was being treated to, his climax built up quickly. Both men sensed the new tension in his muscles, his abs tightened and his cock grew stiffer, much hotter and larger as he began to fire off massive ribbons of spunk into Mouth.

The cocksucker had pulled out to where he was kissing just the piss slit, feeling each pulse and jet of baby batter hit the back of his throat. His lips moved up and down only slightly, testing the limits of Tom's overstimulated knob. It was near sensory overload and as the last of his glaze pulsed out of his dick, he was about to push Mouth off of him, when a voice in the darkness did it for him.

"Where the fuck are you? Tyler, Tanner, get the fuck over here!" It was a masculine voice, deep and authoritative. Tom looked to see where it was coming from and saw the outline of a bearded man standing out on the edge of the parking lot. He looked to be 5'11", perhaps 250 pounds, he was shirtless and wearing a small pair of shorts and flip flops. The rest he could not see.