The Dirty Dick

"I like your ass, too.. I just want to cool it down so I don't come too quickly. Even if I can't wait to pump my load... really deep inside you."

There was another tickling quiver in my belly as he said that.

Larry looked around and bent down to grab the Jim Beam bottle. He took a pull from it, and handed it to me. I had a swig and returned it to him, sloshing the liquor around in my mouth. The bottle was almost empty now. "Tell you what. You lay back and pull your legs up, so I can get at that asshole."

Warm again from the bourbon and eager to have him back inside me, I quickly complied, pulling my thighs to my chest as the ribs of the truckbed dug into my back. I watched Larry, expecting him to start fucking me again. Instead, he raised the Jim Beam bottle to his mouth and spat on the mouth of it. He lowered it as he stepped toward me, and in a moment I could feel it pushing against my asshole.

Quickly, I felt the rough contours of the screw top sliding in my sphincter, followed by the smooth glass, and then the bulb in the bottle's neck. And then the wide base of the bottle resting against my asscheeks.

"I can tell you want a good fucking," Larry said as he got hold on the bottle's side with one hand and its base with the other. "So before I finish off, I'll let my friend Jim fuck you too!"

With his two-handed grip, he began plunging the bottle in and out of my asshole. It was neither as thick nor as long as a cock, but Larry seemed intent to make up for that his the powerful strokes he was soon building up to. I could soon hear the sloshing of the last the bourbon against the bottle's sides. And then I heard a metallic clunk-ing noise, and it was only when I felt the pain at the back of my skull I realized it was from my neck relaxing and letting my noggin drop back against the truckbed.

Even with that mild pain, I was consumed by the savage pleasures from the glass bottle that Larry was buggering me with. I guessed that the violence of his thrusting might leave me sore later, but at the moment it was blissful. The whole inside of my skull was melting now as I moaned and lost track of time.

It was only when he pulled the bottle out with a sudden yank that I opened my eyes. Larry gestured for me to sit up, and as I did, he handed me the bottle. Like his cock had been, the whole neck was covered with a smeared layer of my shit. I could see a couple small brown lumps bobbing in the inch or so of fluid left at the bottom of the bottle.

I knew without him saying anything that he meant for me to clean the bottle off. Without hesitating, I began scraping my tongue up along the sides of the neck. The taste was still... bitter and strong. I certainly couldn't say I liked it, or that I was getting used to it. But I kept going, licking the bottleneck until it was cleaned off. And then I put the bottle to my mouth and drained away everything in it in one quick gulp.

"Dirty fuckin' slut," Larry said. "Get on your back again."

I resumed my former position, and quickly Larry's hands were on the backs of my legs above the knees, pushing them into my chest. He hadn't even spit on his cock again, but his shaft slid right into me, although now my asshole was feeling a little more sensitive in a way it hadn't before.

That little bit of pain was annihilated by the sensations that he was soon pushing into me, pleasure spreading through me with every thrust, even as I could vaguely sense the soreness in my back and legs. He fucked me with rough, uneven strokes, but I could feel, as he had promised, that his cock was somewhere deep inside me. I just tried to relax my body and let the pleasure wash over me.

After a minutes, or five, or who knows how long, I heard a grunt, I could tell that Larry was coming. Once again I felt – or maybe just vividly imagined – the contours of his cock inside me, and now the spreading warmth of the semen he was unloading into me. His face clenched, and relaxed, and clenched along with his hips, and he made one last hard thrust into me.

Then we both held still for a minute, catching our breaths. I could feel his cock shrinking inside me, and when he pulled it out, it was hardly erect at all any more. he stepped back, moving off my body and I sat up. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me upright, and we switched places. Larry was now sitting on the edge of the tailgate, and once again, I didn't have to wait for instructions as I leaned in to clean his cock one more time. It's so strange, I vaguely thought to myself. I don't know why, but I want to lick his shitty cock clean now. The taste was still bitter, even if the muck on his cock was less thick now. I'm not into this, but holy fuck is it hot to be dirty for him. I had the whole of his flaccid cock in my mouth now, sucking on it before releasing it to lick it up and down again.

He pushed me back. "lets have a look at ya," he said, motioning for me to turn around in front of him. Looking down at my stomach and then over my shoulder, I could tell that my body was covered in sweat which had picked up all the dirt and debris on the floor of the truck's box. On my hip was a largish dirt-encrusted brown stain where his thumb had wiped the shit he'd fished out of me.

"Jesus, are you ever dirty," he said, dropping to the ground. "I better give you a rinse before I go. That beer gets through ya fuckin' quick."

I was still facing away from him when I felt something wet and warm on the small of my back. He was pissing on me! He aimed to try and spray at the shit-smear on my flank, and one arm grabbed me and pulled me around by my shoulder and suddenly he was pissing on my cock and belly. He turned me around again was was spraying at my buttocks as his stream wavered.

As his piss dripped off me, I was wondering to myself if that was meant as an intimate gesture to clean me off, or just one more way for him to see me as a dirty slut. He tucked his cock in his fly and did up his zipper, and I was momentarily taken aback at how he looked like any regular parking lot patron while I was naked and covered in piss and shit.

His arms gathered up my clothing from the back of the truck, and he turned and dropped them on the ground. He turned and closed the tailgate.

He looked at me. "You were a good lay. And no matter what you pretend, you're as dirty as hell." With that, he pivoted, took the couple steps to the cab of the truck, and got in. It turned over quickly, and right away he put it gear and pulled out of the parking spot. I half-waved as he drove away.

I looked around – there were no cars or people visible in the low light of the parking lot. I looked down at myself and was mildly surprised when I saw my giant hard-on. Oh yeah, that. He certainly didn't care about getting me off. Still... it felt so good when he fucked me.

Without thinking, my hand went to my cock, and I started to finish myself off. I heard a whoosh that I thought was in my head until I saw the headlights pass by me, about fifteen feet away. And all of a sudden I was spraying my semen over the floor of the parking lot, my knees almost buckling under me.

Better get outta here! Long story short, my sweater took one for the team as I used it to wipe myself off, tossing it into a dark corner as I was done with it. Although I was by no means clean, it was enough that I could get dressed and go find my own car and get home. I had the best night's sleep I'd had for months – maybe years – even if I was pretty sore from all the bruises I discovered the next day.

The next week, I went out for drinks with my friend Marie. Tipsy at the end of the night, she confessed to me that she had let herself get picked up by those guys I'd seen her with at the party and she'd had a threesome with them. With a smile, I told her I had been picked up, too, and I let her drag the story out of me. Or most of it anyway. Even if I told her about getting fucked in the parking lot, I left the "dirty" part out – there's some stuff you can't even tell the friends you tell everything to.

The funny part is, I'd been thinking about it – and jerking off to my memories about what I had done with Larry. Even if there was no way I ever thought I would have done that – and even if it seems pretty unsavory to think about when you're not turned on – when I was aroused, my mind kept coming back to it. And I didn't feel dirty for thinking that, given the chance, I'd do it all again.