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With grace and finesse to match a beached walrus, Ryan rolled over in the hopelessly small bed that was nestled behind the cab of his rig. She was an older truck, and one he maintained out-of-pocket, as part of his freelance hauling company. Despite being a forty-something bachelor with no dependants and his own company, he had very little to show for himself: an ancient semi with no air conditioning and even less in the way of suspension, a beer gut that almost entirely obscured his belt buckle, and a nearly-complete collection of McDonald's burger wrappers from all fifty states. Indeed, on the surface, the old, black wolf was a sorry specimen, but every dog had a bone. In Ryan's case, it was ten and a half inches long, blacker than the paint job on his truck, (at least, in the spots that still had paint) with a knot the size of a ripe apple, and it was intimately familiar with dozens, maybe hundreds of hitch-hiking young men, thumbing their way across the country for one reason or another. Ryan was fairly sure a few of those pieces were underage, too, but hitch-hikers tended to operate under a very hush-hush, don't ask-don't tell mantra.

In times of unclear purpose or crisis, Ryan turned to his journal for comfort, or for a quick jerk-off when he didn't feel like withdrawing from his spank bank on some particular night. After flicking on the naked bulb that hung over his too-small cot, Ryan groped around through a sea of crumpled paper bags, laminated cardboard cups, discarded jellyfishes, and other pieces of nondescrip filth. At last, he emerged from the Pacific Ocean of Crap (what body it was depended on what side of the country he was on) with a sullied, but well-loved tome, a leather-bound little black booty book. Glancing over the first few pages, the musky, old wolf finally settled on one, then looked at the date with a fond smile: November 06, 1994, otherwise known as the first day he picked up, and subsequently nailed, a hitch-hiker. Sliding his paw down the front of his boxers, Ryan took hold of his bulging sheath, while his eyes ran along the lines on the page...

November 06, 1994 ~ Nevada

Gotta admit that this wound up being a pretty weird trip. After the A/C in my truck gave out, I still had another nine hours to drive, hauling some of those tacky neon signs for a casino on the Vegas strip. So as I'm driving along, I'm panting, I got my shirt off, and I'm almost thinking about taking my pants off, cause it's just so goddamn hot. It's right about noon, and I see this figure alongside the road. Well, once I got close enough, I knew it wasn't a mirage, and hey, I'm dying with air blowing through the windows on me. I just know this guy's gotta be cooking. As I get close, I slow down and blow my horn, and the guy waves, runs over, gets in. After I brush the garbage off the seat, that is. That's when I start thinking about when I was at that bar in San Francisco, and these two girly looking boys took to either side of me...

Like a sun-baked angel, the youthful otter climbed up into the passenger seat with acrobatic ease, which Ryan thought was thanks to the stunningly well-defined, yet very compact musculature he displayed, leaving him with a body that was slender, almost feminine from the correct angle. Shirtless like the wolf, the otter was wearing only some cargo shorts, and in one of his paws was an acoustic guitar. Whether he was a travelling performer or just a kid with a guitar, Ryan didn't know or care. "Thanks." The fresh-faced otter said, getting only a nod of acknowledgment from Ryan as he worked the truck back up into its' higher gears. After some wordless minutes, Ryan looked over at the otter, offering him a benign smile, pulling up the bill of his cap so the young man could see his face. "Little hot to be out walking, don't you think, kid?"

The otter shrugged, cracking a grin. "It worked for the last three days, you know? Walk during the day, sleep and eat during the night. Hitching a ride just makes it easier." New to hitch-hikers in general, Ryan was at a loss, but his hungry, orange eyes took a little bite of the otter with every glance. "Yeah... I guess so. I'm heading to Vegas, what about you?" Again, the otter shrugged, offering no explanation, and no response beyond that dismissive raise and slump of his shoulders. "Alright then... Can't say I mind the company, kid." Ryan spoke in a neutral way, but the otter seemed to know better; this wasn't his first truck ride, and Ryan wasn't his first admirer. "Yeah, heh... I'll bet you don't, do you?"

Ryan couldn't help himself, and his muzzle split with a dirty grin. "Guess you're on to me, huh kid?" First, the otter nodded slowly, and then he put a slender, tanned paw on the lupine's pudgy belly, the beginnings of what would, after a few years to mature, become a bear lover's dream. With a delicate touch, the river-dweller rubbed over the pliable flesh beneath the coarse, black fur, dark as night on his back and the outermost parts of his limbs, but a shade lighter on the inside, more of a saturated grey. Whatever the tone was, that otter had a clear interest in that gut, the kind of a gut that knew the wrath of many, many beers and fast-food meals.

Though his eyes were on the road, Ryan's thoughts were on something different, and it was quite obvious just what. The otter's touch, at least for the time being, was benign and simply affectionate, but his slender paw began to grope more and more, and it became abundantly apparant, if it weren't already, that he was getting off on feeling the fat wolf up. "Hey... Kid?" Ryan asked with a bashful chuckle, and the otter ran his finger around the wolf's navel, before squeezing loosely on a roll of flesh. "Mmhm?" It was a sweet, disarming reply, but Ryan still had to ask his question. "You trying to feel me up?"

With a sly smile, the otter said "Yeah, pretty much." Not a microsecond after he spoke, Ryan almost giggled. "I thought so, it's working. So, uh... You got a thing for men like myself, or just whatever's close by?" He gave the otter an inquisitive glance, and subconsciously, as the cute, slender thing rubbed and squeezed, Ryan's chest began to rumble with a pleased growl, a noise that wasn't lost on the very forward otter. "Honestly, I've been, uh... Thumbing it like this since I was fifteen. You know that saying, gas, grass, or ass?" Ryan didn't, but it was self-explanatory, he thought, and he didn't interrupt the otter. He liked the sound of that, too... Definitely had to save that for later. "Yeah, well, I'm usually broke, and I don't smoke, so..." He smiled in a way that was, on the surface, simply cute and innocent, but Ryan could see the perversion in his eyes. "So you wound up sucking off some big, mean truckers, and now you got the itch, huh?" Ryan said, and the otter shot back with "Pretty much. I bend over for them, too. And a bunch of other shit, but hey, I doubt you wanna hear all that..." His tone trailed off into a teasing sing-song, and though Ryan said nothing in response, the lewd grin and the hard-to-notice blush on his cheeks said enough.

As responsible as he was, Ryan wasn't going to let the otter give him a highway delight, even if he did have that lonely desert road to himself. Sunset came soon enough, and the old wolf pulled into a truck stop for the night, having already spent a grueling twelve hours behind the wheel. In truth, he ordinarily would've kept going at least another six or seven, but he had one important, thick, hard reason to pull over for some "sleep." Shutting off the rig, Ryan winked at the otter, then settled into his seat, possessively pulling the twink into his lap, a surprisingly easy feat in such a spacious cab. Under the flickering, blue light of the street lamps lining the parking lot, the musky, older wolf took the otter into a very deep, slobbery kiss, one the young twink did his best to return, but there was just no fighting with a tongue as wide, strong, and wet as the wolf's.

While he explored every inch of the otter's mouth and almost his throat, Ryan's big, padded paws stroked over every inch of the younger man's body, squeezing and groping his hips, chest, and sides in a far more aggressive rendition of the otter's own molestation. With flexibility that had very lewd implications, the sleek otter squirmed and flexed his long body in the daddy wolf's lap, brushing that green and white, Wisconsin-colored trucker cap off his head, exposing a fluffly, unruly mane of raven-black hair that continued down the back of his neck in a tapering trail. With eager, loving paws, the otter stroked through that fluff and down the wolf's back, and Ryan subconsciously rewarded this attention, taking two possessive handfulls of that taut otter ass, gripping the flesh through the baggy fabric of his shorts.

With keen ears, Ryan heard a distinct whine, a sweet, high noise like nnnnnh, and he had the burning feeling that his strong, groping paws had something to do with it. Bearing a dirty grin, Ryan broke the deep, slobbery smooch and nibbled along the otter's jawline, flying entirely by the seat of his pants with that cute twink, but everything he did seemed right. As cool and quiet as he was before, the otter was completely liquified and free of inhibitions for Ryan now. "Mmm, you really know how to treat a boy... No way I'm your first..." Ryan chuckled, suddenly painfully aware of what was going on, not that he was going to stop now. For a moment, he considered telling the twink the truth, that he was the first, aside from the two San Francisco sissy foxes that had their way with his big, black dick and their sinful little mouths, but it was quicker to just play along. "Yeah, babe... I fuck a thousand boys a year, you ain't even my first today..." A self-fulfilling prophet.

"Ooh, yeah...? Then show me, baby..." The otter huffed, casually slipping out of his shorts, with no underwear beneath them to fuss about. With flexibility that could make even invertebrates jealous, the slender river otter turned in the wolf's lap, and began grinding that deliciously taut, well-exercised ass against the black, thick dick that rested just behind Ryan's fly and boxers, almost an unholy length, a cock that had wrecked countless cunts, but today marked a new era in orifice-destroying sex for the fat wolf. Though blushing more than ever before, Ryan felt a primal urge, a cosmic force in his loins that told him this was right. Clutching the otter's hips, a deep, rumbling growl built up in his throat, a low register that the twink felt just as much as he heard, spurring him to whimper and groan, grinding his faggot ass against the wolf's bone, and Ryan matched him rub-for-rub, dry-humping the hitch-hiker. "Ah, Christ, it's so... Big! Fuck me!"

Ryan had intended to get the otter into bed, but the driver's seat would do just fine. Reaching around to his own crotch, the wolf unzipped his fly, loosened his belt buckle, and popped the button on his jeans open. Then, he yanked the denim flaps apart, and fished both his swollen, dripping cock out from between the fabric flaps of his boxers, and he exposed his enormous, musky ballsack in a similar way. The otter couldn't see the wolf's massive endowment, but he could feel the hot, black flesh as it neatly hotdogged into the cleft of his ass cheeks, and Ryan, the big, horny bully that he was, bounced the otter in his lap just to tease and please the hot young thing, as well as himself. With every grind, he felt his tender, yet rock-hard flesh rub across the twink's sinfully smooth fur and that hot, snug pucker, smearing the fluff down with his thick, viscous pre, sullying the otter's rear spectacularly. Whimpering in absolute desire, and well beyond the use of words or the grip of dignity, the slender creature did everything he could to grind back against Ryan, dedicating every move and vocalization to begging for a rough, violent fucking.

Soon, all inhibitions gave way for Ryan, and he put to use skills he'd perfected on countless women over the years. Holding the otter tightly by the hips, the gifted wolf pressed the tip of his black meat to the twink's snug, warm butthole, which he soon squirted a thick, nasty wad of pre on. At last, he pulled on the hitch-hiker's hips, penetrating that tight little ring, stretching the hot orifice wide around his meat. The otter cried out with pleasure and pain, a mix of the two feelings with no clear beginning or end, but he felt much the same way as Ryan did; it felt fucking right. All at once, the otter knew he was supposed to be at that truck stop, getting fucked by that wolf, and Ryan could think of no better way to spend a night. This sure beat driving for another six hours!

"Grrrh... Ahhh, fuck yeah, kid! Mother_fucker_, you got a tight asshole!" Ryan snarled, but beyond that, he was as articulate as the otter. But, where the otter whimpered, yelped, and panted, Ryan's feral noises were the opposite end of the spectrum: deep, gutteral, menacing, and the perfect complement to the twink's submission. As if the slender boy were a fleshlight for his leisurely use, Ryan bounced that screaming slut up and down on his fat, bulging bone, nailing the cute otter with the second-fattest part of his out-of-shape body.

As the big wolf railed him, the otter became very aware of the trucker's thick, pervasive musk, lingering on every surface of the cab, and emanating from his thick, unwashed body. That overwhelming musk made him even sluttier and more pliable, an astonishing feat considering how far-gone he already was, but there it was, a show of absolute submission and raw, unhinged sexuality. He reached down, taking hold of the modest, pink, human-shaped cock that hung between his legs, pumping the hard flesh, trying to fuck his own fist the same way Ryan raped the elasticity out of his tail hole, but he could only hope to match that sexual ferocity. Ryan was a fuck unlike any other, and though he couldn't put his finger on the reason why, who cared?

A fuck as fast and furious as that had no hope of lasting forever, but neither the wolf nor the otter wanted it to. Ryan had a big, fat knot that he wanted to force deep into the twink's ass, to force his third leg so far up the otter's rear that he'd taste cock in the back of his throat, and as afraid as he was of that knot, the hitch-hiker wanted it just as badly. "Aaah... Mmmmf, grrrh...! Aaah!" Grunts, growls, and yelps, all indecipherable mutterings of lust, but Ryan had a pretty good idea of what his lapfaggot was saying. Something to do with his knot, and the otter's asshole; mind-reading sissy, apparently. "Gaaaaawd, yes... Ooh, I got something for you, fucking faggot kid..." Ryan shuddered, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, yanking the otter down with greater and greater strength, and every time, his swollen knot literally punched the river otter's sore asshole, forcing it open a little more every time, and with each buck, the otter's whimpers went up an octave.

Finally, Ryan popped that wickedly painful knot up into the otter's ass, and his response was a sharp gasp, a noise that was almost silent, but Ryan heard the pained sound in gruesome detail with his keen ears. Ordinarily very noisy when he came, the wolf was dead silent as he pumped the otter full of his virile, voluminous, sticky jism, filling up that deliciously tight butt. Though reeling from the pain of having his asshole so savagely fucked and then knotted, the otter jerked off furiously, and finally, he came too, shooting his thick, hot, but incomparably small load up onto his chest. With a deep, relaxed murr, Ryan hugged the twink close, kissing him on top of the head in a bland, but affectionate gesture. "Ahh... I needed that, kid..." Resting against the beary wolf, the otter closed his eyes and nodded subtly. "Me too..."

So the next day, I drop this kid off in Reno, says "thanks for the ride, and for letting me tag along in your truck." Smart ass kid. Nice boy, though. And that ass, god_damn. _Forget women, I think I got something new I like.

With a grin on his muzzle, Ryan stroked his swollen, aching shaft for a few more seconds, wiped the slippery pre upon his stomach, then flipped through the pages of his journal yet again, settling upon an entry somewhere near the middle of the book. He took hold of his musky penis yet again, idly and slowly stroking the plump flesh as he read over the passage.

January 22, 2002 ~ Michigan

Fuck, I'm glad as hell the heater in my truck still works. Even as nice as my fur is, I can't believe how quick I freeze up. I dunno exactly how cold it is, but I know there's a minus in front of the number. So, today, I've spent the whole day driving from Wisconsin, around the lake, through Illinois and Indiana, all the way to some fabricators in Michigan. My truck was fifty pounds overweight for the ferry. Complete bull. Could've been worse, I guess. Hell, I'm kinda glad I had to take a detour. When I was fueling up in some shithole town in Illinois, this cute skunk boy asks, real sweet-like, if I can give him a ride, and of course I'm thinking, like, yeah kid, sure, I got something you can ride right here, and of course I keep that to myself, but either way...

It was difficult to see just how the skunk was built for the thick, puffy winter coat he was wearing. What sold Ryan was the black-and-white boy's cute, gentle face, that innocent gleam in his eyes, not to mention that long, luxorious tail of his. Maybe, in some very limited way, Ryan felt slightly compelled to give him a ride because it was so bitterly cold, but, by and large, he was thinking with his cock. Gas, grass, or ass, what's it gonna be, kid? Ryan thought, making himself chuckle, but he passed it off as a cough. The cute skunk looked over at him with unease, but it could have just as easily been shyness. Ryan did look like a big, bad wolf, but he had kind eyes, whether he admitted to it or not. Despite the ravenous, gay sexuality he'd developed since boning that cute otter, Ryan had to acknowledge the skunk's expression, and after a brief, but pitched battle with himself, he stifled his sexuality, finally talking to the cute mustelid as he turned on to the Illinois-Indiana highway.

"Relax, kid. I'm not gonna rape you or anything." True words, but coercion, on the other hand... "Oh, that's... Good." Forcing a smile, the skunk unzipped the bundled coat, pulling it apart, exposing what Ryan suspected: a delicious, almost female body, the polar opposite to his flabby gut, and exactly what he hoped for. "Yeah, so, hey, maybe you'll feel better if you know my name. It's Ryan. How about you, kid?" It did, in fact, ease the skunk a little bit, and he noticably loosened up in the wide seat. "My name? Um, uh, I'm Stephen..." Ryan nodded in acknowledgement, looking over at the mustelid for a moment. "Stephen, huh? Nice name... Had a friend named Stephen when I was in high school." Stephen clasped his delicate paws in his lap, interlacing his fingers, tilting his head in an adorably inquisitive way. "Yeah?"

"Mmhm, he was a fox, though. Kind of a... Like... Jock type, played basketball. Didn't see him after I graduated." Shrugging, Ryan reached over, patting the skunk's leg in a truly benign fashion. "First time in a truck, Stephen?" Stephen didn't flinch or resist the touch, instead locking up entirely, which was just as bad. "Um... No? Yes! Yeah, I... Sort of... My mom and dad kicked me out, so..." With his interest shifting more and more away from sex, Ryan gave the skunk a mildly concerned look. "And...? What, so you jump into my truck? Kid... I hope you're not thinking I'm gonna drop you off somewhere warm. We're almost going to maple leaf territory. Michigan, way north, almost the Canadian border. You, uh, want me to turn around, drop you back off, so you can go talk to your folks?"

Stephen adamantly shook his head, then rested an elbow on the door, propping his chin up on his fist. "That's really nice of you, Ryan, but don't... Don't worry, it's not your business, please. I don't want to be there anymore. It's time to go." The wolf sighed and settled into his well-worn seat, then turned the heat up a notch, subconsciously hoping the skunk might shed more clothes. "If that's what you want, kid. Just don't say I didn't offer."

The wolf drove on without words for the better part of two hours, during which the sun had set, and Stephen had shed his coat entirely. As Ryan pulled into a truck stop oasis, Stephen's eyes snapped over to the wolf, and there was a queer kind of worry in his look. "What, are we stopping? Like, for the night?" Ryan pursed his lips, curious as to why the sissy seemed so terrified. "No... I gotta take a piss, kid, do you mind? That, and I'm getting kinda hungry. C'mon, buddy. I'll buy you something to eat." Stephen started to shake his head, but Ryan prodded. "Come on. Eat something. If you're upset, fine, but starving yourself ain't gonna help." With reluctance, the skunk finally agreed, and after slipping back into his coat, he followed the wolf in.

Like a lost child, which was a fitting metaphor for Stephen, the skunk stayed close to Ryan, even following him into the restrooms, though he had no business to take care of, himself. The wolf didn't say a word about the way he acted, taking pity on the twink, not so heartless that he saw him more as a piece of ass than a lost young man, but the element of lust was always there. There were a dozen or so resturants lining the oasis' walls, like a miniature mall, but Ryan chose the McDonalds, like always. Stephen was surprised to see a man of his size order only a hamburger and a coffee for himself, an order that the skunk meekly asked for for himself.

Sitting across from one another, Ryan and Stephen ate quietly, but the skunk felt like volunteering some more information about himself, keeping his voice low. "Ryan... You seem like you, uh, I can trust you. So, I thought you should know something really important... And I hope you won't be... Disgusted by it, or something, but I'm gay." Ryan paused mid-bite, then continued eating, nodding in a slow, sagely manner. Stephen's tail twitched behind him, and his expression was best described as blank. Swallowing his food, Ryan said: "Yeah? That's fine, kid." In truth, the wolf hoped the next sentence would be "And I want to suck your cock," but no such luck. "I'm sorry, I had to tell someone who I hoped would understand... Thank you."

A short time after getting back on the road, Ryan spoke to the shy skunk. "You know, kid... I got my theories about why you're leaving home. I'm not saying I have all the answers, but liking men isn't gonna hold you back. I mean, uh..." He paused, patting the mustelid on the leg. "You and me, we play the same team, buddy." Stephen blinked, shrinking back into the worn-out, wide seat. "No offense, but... You? You're gay?" Ryan shrugged, putting both paws back on the wheel. "Yeah, why the surprise? Not every gay guy's as cute and small as you, kid. Sorry." The skunk blushed at the off-handed complement, then interlaced his fingers across his lap in that nervous way of his. "I... Guess I kinda knew that, I've seen, like, bears before, just never met one..."

Ryan snickered, glancing at the skunk for a moment. "Bears, huh? Learn something new every day, I suppose. So, uh... Don't be afraid to not participate, but how's about some girl talk, Stephen? What kinda man do you like?" As silent as avoidant as he became, Ryan assumed the young man was creeped out, but apparently, he was just choosing his words. "Um... Well... I like a guy that's stronger and bigger than me... Kind, handsome, smart... Older..." As the last word rolled off his tongue, he looked up at the bear-wolf with an expression that, as shy as it was, had an intense perversion brewing just beneath the surface. Ryan couldn't help it, and a naughty grin spread across his lips. "Huh... Me, I like, uh... The younger men, kind of that eighteen to twenty-four range, smaller, cute looking..." Putting a paw on the wolf's thigh, Stephen purred to him. "Do you like... Virgins?"

For a dangerous five seconds, Ryan looked the skunk in the eyes, twisting his muzzle into a disbelieving smirk, before finally looking out the windshield. "As far as I know, buddy, I've never... Ahem, broken somebody in, you hear? Besides that, hey... Not to brag, but I'm packing. I think I'm a little bit too big to pop somebody's cherry." Though flustered, Stephen was infinitely more intriguied, stuck in the typically male mindset of bigger is better. In other words, a size queen, with no point of reference; a twink just asking for a ruined ass, but if he really wanted it...

Damning his good conscience, Ryan did all he could to dissuade the skunk, not necessarily attempting to talk him out of sex entirely, but at least to rethink the penetration he wanted so badly. He stopped just short of discussing the horrific side-effects of, for lack of a medical term, too much cock; he didn't want to sicken the twink, or himself, but Stephen wasn't going to budge. The old wolf finally gave up, but he assured the skunk he had time to think it over; Ryan wasn't going to stop until he finally got to his destination, still the better part of the night away. During that long drive, Stephen fell asleep; Ryan didn't realize it until he turned to ask the young twink something plain, small-talk, but when he saw the troubled, newly homeless skunk asleep, he smiled subtly, a tiny sense of appreciation for how sweet he looked at rest.

It wasn't until much later than Ryan awoke the skunk, well past midnight. The first thing the young twink realized was that they weren't moving, but the truck was running, and, considering the rows and rows of them, they were parked. "Ryan... Hi..." He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, looking out at the starry, half-clouded sky. "Hey yourself, kid... Listen, job's all done, I was gonna... Y'know, get me a little rest in back. You can join me, if you want." While he spoke, he slid out of his seatbelt, and climbed behind the seats, tugging the chain on the naked lightbulb, which soon cast a hazy, orange glow on the small, garbage-filled "bedroom." Despite the cold outside, the handsome old wolf slipped out of all but his boxers, and Stephen did the same in the cab, climbing in back with Ryan in only tight, spotless briefs, awkwardly straddling the lupine's hips, resting his deliciously flat stomach against that big, black gut. A virgin to more than just sex, Stephen's inexperience with intimacy was glaringly obvious, but Ryan didn't mind. Experienced enough for the both of them, he pulled the skunk close, first smooching his little, pink nose, before coaxing him into a deep and slobbery kiss. It took him an entire five minutes to get the twink to open his mouth, but he did, and despite the young skunk's blushing and shy squirming, he came to enjoy the wolf's affection.

As Ryan stroked down his young, slender body with those muscular, wide paws, Stephen's back arched, and his gorgeous, well-groomed tail flicked and ultimately raised, a show of instinctive submission and lust, and one that the big bad wolf enjoyed beyond words. Growling into the mustelid's warm, tight muzzle, he took hold of that taut rear-end with both of his paws, groping with dominance on those tender cheeks. Furthering his domineering molestation, he rubbed that fine, young ass in small circles, putting his big, rough pads to use, and it was only when he heard the twink whimper in need that he slid his briefs down. With a dry, thick finger, he teasingly explored Stephen, slowly dragging the blunted claw of his index finger through the skunk's ass crack, starting upon the back of his balls, trailing it across that delicately furred taint, bringing it home to the twink's tight, quivering pucker. Deep in the kiss, Stephen moaned, then whined, and his lovely, blue eyes rolled back in his head before his eyelids lazily slid over them.

Ryan rubbed over that snug butthole with incredibly blunt, lewd intent, teasing that pink flesh in a way that left the fetchingly feminine skunk literally shaking in his arms. The wolf could feel his young friend's aching, swollen erection against his own obscured sheath, dampening his boxers with pre. To that big, beary trucker, it was as much of a powertrip as it was an erotic act; the way he had that cute virgin shaking and moaning and just begging for it, it stimulated instincts usually reserved for studs half his age and weight. Ryan, however, was a seasoned man who knew how to control those wickedly sexual thoughts... When he felt like it. Pulling his finger back, the lupine slowly broke that intimate kiss, leaving Stephen first gulping down a mouthful of excess wolf slobber, before he panted, stricken with such deep arousal that he didn't know what to do next. Ryan, however, did; he took finger into his maw, as well as its' neighbor, sucking and slobbering on them, leaving the digits dripping with spit in much the same way young Stephen's chin did, and just as quickly, he had them between the twink's ass cheeks, once again aimed at that untouched tail hole. "Mmmf... Oh god, Ryan..."

Licking his lips intently, the fat trucker pushed his thick finger forcefully into that unyielding asshole, ignoring the soft yelps and gasps that welled up in Stephen's throat; unless he explicity heard the word "stop", he had no intentions of giving up. When his fingertip had finally forced that tight ring of muscle open, and his slick finger began sliding in, many things passed Stephen's lips; mostly expletives, which were amusing from him in an out-of-place way, and a few soft encouragements. By the time just a single finger was half-buried in him, the mustelid had ceased squirming or speaking, or even panting; from then on, all Ryan heard were hushed, nearly shameful moans from a sweet twink who wouldn't admit he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

With his free paw, Ryan stroked across every inch of the twink's back, from his shoulderblades to the base of his tail, offering him comfort and affection, which he both needed and appreciated, however passively. Yet, despite just how tight and new he was, he took it surprisingly well when the wolf began working in that second finger. Beyond a sharp gasp and the beginning keys of a whimper, Stephen was silent, though Ryan could see the pain. The way he tensed up and shook said everything, but he did ask for it. No remorse from this wolf, sissy-boy.

The more Ryan worked those two big, thick fingers in, the more Stephen wanted to ask the wolf to stop. Once or twice, he silently mouthed the word into the fuzzy, musky chest his face was buried in, but he just couldn't find the breath to say it. Even his body language betrayed him; he clenched tightly upon the fingers, trying to stop them, but it made Ryan push harder. He clutched handfuls of the wolf's coarse fur and pulled on it, but it was interpreted as a gesture of passion and erotic pain. However, in the great tradition of first-timers, Stephen realized that the pain was slowly fading, slowly being the key adjective. The intense burn he felt in his snug, freshly violated ass began to dull, but it wouldn't go entirely.

Muffled whimpers gave way to soft moans for cute Stephen, and he fondly nuzzled into the wolf's neck and chin, purring to him, getting a playful, yet deciedly gentle growl in response. Ryan's slow, but merciless pumping was becoming a sweet pleasure to the twink as time went on, and though the pain lingered no matter what, he had begun to enjoy himself, even finding himself able to talk again. "R-ryan... Ooh, jeez... I think, ah, you're right... I don't think I want you to fuck me, but... I want to do something with you..." He mumbled, still lazily resting on the wolf's chest. Ryan's fingers never stopped, but he muttered a thoughtful hmm, then kissed his young tag-along on the cheek. "I'll let you suck me off, kid. Sound good to you?" Stephen blushed, then smiled sweetly.

It was a welcome break from the wolf's fingering; as much as he'd come to enjoy the sensation, he was sore beyond belief. As he commented to the trucker, "I don't know how those guys in the movies make it look so nice." In no great rush, Ryan let the skunk get around to it at his own pace. Pulling his briefs back up out of an adorable sense of decency, Stephen put a tentative paw on the meaty bulge in Ryan's discolored, musky, dampened boxers, and the wolf watched, with a poorly-contained grin of mischief, as the twink's cheeks lit up like pink neon signs. The simple sensation of that huge, pulsating cock in his sensitive grip was more than enough to leave him trembling in an uncertain way, but Ryan encouraged the twink with an exaggerated, pleasurable growl, arching his back and pushing his hips into Stephen's touch. He half-expected the cute young thing to pass out from the way he gasped and flushed, but he kept some semblence of composure...

Licking his lips intently, Stephen pulled open the flaps of Ryan's boxers, making a theatric affair out of it, though the old wolf could tell the twink was just nervous. With the kind of dick the wolf was packing, it was more than a little bit justified. Like delicately unwrapping a Christmas gift, Stephen fished the lupine's impossibly thick, meaty bone out of his shorts, actually moaning from the feel of the hard flesh against his soft, padded paw. It throbbed heavily with every beat of his heart, and dripped a steady stream of musky, gooey precum, which served to mat down the fur on the skunk's paw. Almost as an afterthought, the mustelid reached back in and returned with Ryan's plump sack, pulling that heavy, furred scrotum free of those boxers. Stephen then looked upon the old trucker's genitalia with awe and respect, and, being the smug alpha wolf that he was, Ryan folded his arms behind his head in a lazy way, then said: "Pretty big, eh, kid?"

The skunk didn't say a word in response; he let his actions speak for him, leaning in close, taking the pointed, canine tip of that all-black wolf pecker past his lips, and he sucked softly upon it. Though awkward and careful, he had a natural skill, one that made the wolf moan in a surprised, genuine way. Ryan didn't say a word, letting the sissy do as he pleased. H was clearly a virgin, the way he was slow and gentle, but it was a welcome change of pace from the usual sluts Ryan fucked; not to say he didn't like sluts! Reaching up, the mustelid clutched his trucker friend's full, dangling sack, squeezing it in his loving paws while he slid his muzzle down that pulsing, squirting, delicious dick. Gently, Ryan set a paw on the back of the skunk's head; not in dominance, but in affection, just stroking through that pretty, white hair, which all skunks seemed to have; he coudn't remember ever seeing a ginger skunk.

Though unaware of it, Stephen found himself in a pattern; he'd squeeze on the lupine's balls, and in return, a thick, bitter-salty wad of precum for his hungry, gay mouth. When he bobbed and sucked, the wolf subtly matched his pace, grinding up into his tight, wet muzzle whether he realized it or not. The more he sucked and swallowed down the wolf's juices, the more that impossibly thick musk played with his head. It was so heavy, so potent, the stink of fermented masculinity, that it was more like a physical creature perched upon his back, whispering dirty, disgusting, but deeply arousing things into his cute, round ears. Beneath the skunk, just below that smooth, cute belly, he had a tent in his briefs the likes of which he'd never experienced before, but he was just so preoccupied with Ryan's own swollen penis that he couldn't convince himself to jerk off.

For Ryan, it was shaping up to be a very good evening. With the skill Stephen showed as he sucked, slobbered, groped, and rubbed, he was quickly nearing a climax, reflecting on a thought he had, that such an inexperienced little twink would take hours to get him off. Yet, whether Stephen was just that good, or Ryan's big, black dick wasn't as jaded as he'd thought it was, his wide knot was fast filling out, the surest sign of a canine's oncoming splooge. It was hard to tell if the skunk knew what he was doing when he took hold of that bulging gland and started to squeeze, grope, and otherwise milk it, but damned if he wasn't doing it in all the right ways. The fat trucker growled and snarled incessantly and aimlessly, gripping the unwashed sheets beneath as Stephen worked him to that sweet sexual climax that both boys were waiting for.

Ryan's climax came as a surprise to the skunk; after the first mouthful, which he gulped down with a grunt, he pulled back and found himself on the recieving end of a very thorough, if not unintentional facial. First, he paused, then slowly wiped his face with his paws, and he looked upon the beary wolf's spent, throbbing, yet-hard cock with disbelief, perhaps that a creature so virile could take such a common shape. Murring lovingly in afterglow, Ryan stroked a lock of sullied hair from the twink's eyes, smiling in a way both friendly and lewd. "Mmm, thanks a bunch, kid... I needed that."

And right after I blow a wad on this kid's face, he gets all shy and quiet and cuddles up to me. Starts kinda sniffing at my armpit, like he gets off on the smell, and then he's jerking off. Real cute. Came real good for a kid his size. You wouldn't believe the way he laughed when I licked his face clean. I took a detour on the way back and let him off outside what he said was his folks' house. I'm sitting there waiting to see if I gotta take him somewhere else, you know? But his dad looks out at the truck, and then at Stephen, and he grabs the kid and squeezes him real close. About fucking cried, I gotta admit. I like a happy ending... No pun intended, hey.

Ryan rubbed teasingly upon his swollen knot, biting his lip, fighting off the urge to squeeze it and be done right there. A little edging could go a long way, he reminded himself, making a deal with his libido to read just one more entry for now. Taking his trembling paws off of his fat dick, the trucker flipped ahead a few pages, and then a few more, settling on an entry so recent that he still remembered it vividly.

October 19, 2011 ~ Texas

Have I ever mentioned the fact that my truck doesn't have air conditioning? Yeah, let me just mention it again, it FUCKING SUCKS. I really need to get that fixed. I smell like I haven't bathed in six months. So anyway, I'm taking some shit for some private military contractor from one end of Texas to another. I hate these bible-belt fuckers. Everything's bigger, including the fetal alcohol syndrome rate. Jeez. Of course, hey, it wasn't all bad. I wouldn't be writing in here if I hadn't gotten laid, you know? So when I'm going through Shreveport, where I'm leaving from, I see this big convention or something, lots of nerds around. It looks like the thing's letting out or something, everyone's leaving and traffic's backed up, but this gray mouse kid with a backpack and glasses waves me down when I'm standing still, so I'm like, sure, whatever... Show me some kinky Klingon sex or something, nerdy-boy. So the kid climbs in, sorta, and I gotta yank him into the cab...

The cute little nerd literally squeaked when Ryan hoisted him up into the truck, but it was a noise to be expected from a rodent. While he settled into the seat and put his bag in the floor, Ryan was just starting to drive on again, only a few feet, but it was something. "Oh, thanks a bunch! My friends kinda ditched me, I think, so... Yeah... Please tell me you're heading west?" Ryan chuckled, contemplating what kind of "friends" would do that, but he nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, kid, I'm heading west. After I drop off my load, I'm heading out to California for another job." The mouse's ears perked, and that pink nose quivered. "California? Great! That's where I live... Can I tag along?" He smiled, putting his ears down in a charming way. At a stand-still again, Ryan took the opportunity to look over the little rodent, and little was certainly right; he just broke four and a half feet, and he was something of a twink, though he had a pudgy belly too, which looked perfect on him. Besides denim shorts, which showed long, molestable legs and fleshy feet in sandals, he had on a lime-green shirt with the stylish emblem and year of the convention he was just at. Pretty cute, but you better put out, kid.

Ryan was too hot and tired to play cat and mouse, or wolf and mouse, as the case was. He spoke bluntly and clearly, looking the nerd in his friendly, magnified eyes. "Yeah, but some rules, kid. No singing, no games, no stories, no drama. Now, while we're standing still, you can still get out, but uh... I expect some sex if I'm gonna haul you with me." The mouse's expression slowly turned blank, but he surprised Ryan by nodding slowly. "Um... Okay, sure..." He rubbed the back of his head, then smiled shyly. "Are you a top, or...?" Before he could say another word, Ryan grunted: "Mmhm." The nerd put his pink paws up in defeat, nodding his head. "That's fine, that's fine, I'm just... Kind of a switch, that's all." Ryan smirked, then patted the nerd's head. "That's fine, kid; but you'll be bending over, not me."

Hot and cranky, Ryan didn't see a problem with taking a break after a few hours out on the highway. It was the middle of the afternoon, but it was just too absurdly hot to keep going. Besides that, he had an entire three days to finish his job, an unheard of amount of time for something as simple as driving from one end of the state to the other. Comfortable in his lead, the wolf pulled into a roadside truck stop, one that boasted, among other things, by-the-hour motel rooms with air conditioning and basic cable. Sweeter words had never been painted on a billboard. Parking his truck, the shirtless wolf took his young, bespectacled friend inside with him, renting a room, a little bit surprised that nobody asked what such an old, mean-looking wolf was doing with a cute rodent half his age.

Ryan had almost forgotten what air conditioning felt like it after he stepped into the shanty motel room. It was a dump, of course, but the bed was big enough for two, and he was looking forward to getting laid in something besides the one-man cot behind his seat. As much as he was tempted to tell the cute mouse to get naked, he couldn't resist the urge to flop down on the bed, which he did, closing his eyes. After a long moment, the mouse knelt beside him, stroking over his gut, getting a pleasant rumble out of the wolf. "Heh, what's it with boys like you touching my stomach, huh? You got a Santa fetish or something?" The mouse smiled thoughtfully and shrugged, nuzzling into the wolf's plump, round belly. "I can only speak for myself, but I just find it really sexy. Sorry if there's not some big, majestic explanation for it..."

Ryan shrugged, then put a paw on the mouse's head, ruffling his short hair, gray to match his fur. "If it gets you off, kid... Although, I admit I like the attention. So, uh, tell me your name. Mine's Ryan." Letting his tail lash slowly as he molested the big, beary wolf, the rodent let a paw brush over the wolf's package, then said: "Jeri. Well... Jeremiah, but I think that sounds way too biblical, you know?" Ryan shrugged, then yawned, showing off rows and rows of yellowing teeth. "It's a nice name, I think." Without warning, the lupine unzipped his jeans, shoving them down along with his boxers, kicking them off when they hung on his ankles. Though Jeremiah blushed, he enjoyed the look he got at the wolf's plump, furry sheath and big balls, a view that any self-respecting homosexual woulf appreciate. Ever the conversationalist, the mouse grinned and said: "Wow, you're hung, aren't you, Ryan? I'm glad I came with you..."

Ryan covered his mouth, snickering into his paw. Then, as if to offset his modest behavior, he said: "Duh, no shit, kid. My dick's bigger than your fucking thigh." Unphased by the surly, cocky wolf, Jeri nodded and smiled in a sinfully sweet way. "Probably..." What came next was a shock to Ryan, which was a considerable feat considering just how sexually jaded and worldly he was; the cute rodent laid between his legs, slipping his quivering, pink nose under the lupine's heavy sack, shuddering from the scent of masculinity and testosterone from the trucker's taint. Both brave and extraordinarily kinky, Jeri started to lap and slurp across the wolf's snug, virgin tail hole, teasing across the supremely sensitive nerve endings of that tight orifice with his warm, smooth tongue. Grunting and clenching his toes, paws, and his quivering pucker, Ryan moaned in noisy, outspoken pleasure, and his shaft, ordinarily a lazy, slow-to-wake serpent, rose from his sheath in record time, dripping with precum, swelling with blood.

The mouse's fleshy ears flicked and twitched to the sounds of Ryan's blissful pleasure, and he closed his eyes, letting a smug smile cross his muzzle, contridicting his blush. Getting off in unspeakable ways from the lupine's musk, Jeri slurped harder and harder, not yet pushing his tongue in; for Ryan, the simple act of lapping across the surface was enough to leave him thrashing and panting. The old wolf couldn't remember the last time one of the boys he picked up had him on the ropes like this, but he didn't care, or put too much thought into it. He didn't have any words for the rodent, but he didn't have to say any; his groaning, growling, shuddering vocalizations told the kinky young nerd everything he needed to know, and the wolf's pleasure emboldened him to take the next logical step, burying his tongue in the sexy lupine's asshole, sliding it in deep, lapping across tight, tender flesh that had never even known the love of an exploring finger or two.

Ryan was almost ashamed of himself; not that he was getting off on having his butthole so thoroughly eaten, but the fact that he'd never thought to try what he inflicted on so many cute young men over the years. It was with this in mind that he finally spoke to the nerd, however broken his words were by pants and grunts. "Alright... Mmf, Jesus, kid... You wanna nail me?" Expecting disbelief and enthusiasm, what he got instead was unnerving, yet arousing in it's own way; the mouse pulled back, offering his taint a playful kiss, before sliding his short muzzle back entirely. "I figured you'd ask." Smug, lewd, even a little sultry, but Ryan liked it, for some reason. Smirking down at the young mouse, hardly believing what he was doing, the wolf rolled over, keeping his belly on the bed, his shaft pinned between the two. With a lack of shame owed to, perhaps, his age and experience, Ryan lifted his tail and bared his thick, fat ass for Jeri.

Like a curator reviewing a fine, delicate piece of artwork, Jeri traced his slender fingers down one of those pudgy cheeks, loving nothing more than the tactile sensation of that pliable flesh and soft fur against his skin. Though eager to get it over with, and admittedly nervous about what was to come, Ryan murred and savored the touch. Many men had caressed his plump gut, but he couldn't remember a time when his ass was doted on beyond a playful grope. As Jeri slowly parted the lupine's cheeks and rubbed over his tight, pink pucker with his smooth fingertips, Ryan thought about the absurdity of it all; here he was, a fine model of gay bear sexuality, well past the dreaded four-oh midlife crisis age, soon to get his booty plundered for the first time by a chatty nerd, half his age, whom he'd only known for the past seven hours. And here he always thought "Truth is stranger than fiction" was total bullshit.

The notion that Ryan wanted to get fucked and get it over with became less and less urgent the more that mouse rubbed and teased over his quivering tail hole, expertly massaging the tender flesh in a way that proved to Ryan that this mouse was, indeed, an experienced top. His lewd, pleased growling and groaning was a fine testimony to this, and Jeri ate up the fat trucker's vocalizations with a curt grin. Soon, enough was enough; not content with just rubbing, Jeri took a moment to suck, slobber, and otherwise moisten his fingers, and this time, he started to work them into the old wolf's ass, loosening that stubbornly tight butthole with slow, careful pushes and wiggles, working his digits in slowly and carefully, but there was no mistaking the forceful purpose behind his actions. Just like a first-time buttbitch would do, the wolf winced and even whined, pushing his muzzle into the no-doubt heinously filthy bed spread, wondering just how anybody could get off on something so outrageously painful.

"Talk about your anal virgins... You're tighter than most people my size, Ryan, this is gonna be so good..." Jeri mused, finally getting his slender fingers up to the knuckle, which still caused Ryan near agony. Despite the pain, he stuck it out, and he was soon thankful that he did; with skill and affection, Jeri began rubbing over the trucker's vulnerable prostate, stimulating the sweet little gland that he owed every single one of his boners to. It was like flicking a light switch, one that was hidden in the wolf's ass and was more of a button; pain turned to pleasure, whimpers into moans, and he exchanged one regret for another, stopping feeling sorry for himself for trying this, and instead becoming sorry for not trying this before. "Mmm...! Ooh, god_damn...!_ Fuck, kid..."

Jeri intently molested that sweet spot, rubbing idly upon the wolf's plump, throbbing ballsack with his free paw. He didn't say a word, he just kept giving the fat wolf what he wanted, which was more and more of that sweet stimulation. It was a pleasure he'd gone a lifetime without, but one thing was for sure: he'd have to buy a dildo now. Ryan could've lived in that moment of satisfaction forever, but Jeremiah had other plans, and after a few more minutes of rubbing, it was time to step it up.

Ryan winced with a burning pain as the rodent slid his fingers free, but the memory of it soon dulled in favor of that fun little prostate massage; he'd have to lose some weight so he could do that himself... Or just head back to San Francisco and find those faggot foxes again. He was sure they knew their way around an asshole or two. "If you liked that, I think you're gonna love this, Ryan." Jeri said with a dirty tone, reaching into the backpack which hadn't left his grip until they got to the motel room. Ryan looked back, and genuinely blushed when he saw the bottle of lube the mouse took out of it. Half-empty, too; this kid got around, that was for sure. For a chubby nerd, he seemed to do alright in the loving department.

Unceremoneously, Jeri disrobed, taking off his convention shirt, the denim shorts, and the tight briefs underneath. He had a cock that was human, the same pink color of flesh as his palms and features, and while it couldn't have been more than six inches long, it was nearly as thick as a can of beer, covered by a snug foreskin. I think I'm a little bit too big to pop somebody's cherry... That rodent's cock was already hard as stone, pointing straight ahead, no curve whatsoever. Kneeling near the fat rump he was soon to conquer, the mouse liberally slathered his meat with the slimy lubricant, and after a whiff or two, Ryan realized that the tacky goo smelled like strawberries.

Unnervingly quiet for somebody Ryan had come to regard as too talkative, Jeri mounted the wolf, slipping his member between those thick ass cheeks until the tip of his foreskin touched the trucker's pucker. Then, pressing forward, he penetrated Ryan, groaning as the blunt, mushroom-shaped tip of his shaft began to enter the old wolf, while his foreskin was forced to stretch back by that tail hole. All pleasure had once more left the act, and Ryan was left clenching his teeth and eyelids, clawing into the sheets, snorting through his nostrils in so much ungodly pain.

Naturally, Jeremiah was perched on the opposite end of that spectrum, moaning pleasantly as he oh so slowly sank balls-deep into that tight, loving asshole of Ryan's. Though he didn't boast a cock as long as Ryan's, it was more than enough for the wolf to huff a sigh of relief when the mouse finally slid the entirety of it in, and his dangling, furry balls pressed to the wolf's own. He gave Ryan a short minute to adjust, and then he started to fuck that trucker's virgin asshole, slowly nailing the snug entrance, letting his balls slap into the lupine's own with every buck of his hips. Ryan winced and grunted with each thrust, wondering just why he'd volunteered his butthole for such a thing, but occasionally, be it by luck or skill, Jeri's manhood would bump or rub into his prostate, and the meaning of it came back to him again for a sweet moment.

Despite how painful it was, Ryan's cock was still as hard as a million-year-old chunk of timber, oozing musky pre into the bed spread, adding his own signature to a comforter that bore pecker tracks from dozens of men. "Grrf, kid... Mmf..." Ryan grunted, keeping his muzzle buried in the sheets. No matter how much it hurt for him, though, Jeri loved every second of this butt-pillaging, throwing his weight into every thrust, incorrectly assuming Ryan had had enough time to get used to it, but the wolf had nailed so many twinks in more brutal ways; he had it coming.

However ferocious the little nerd was, he just couldn't hold out; with his thrusting growing sloppy and hasty, the cute rodent huffed and panted, moaning out to the world as he bucked and bucked, then finally hilted, blowing his thick wad into that fat ass, splattering Ryan's colon with his hot and thick jism. The wolf grunted as his young friend came, clenching involuntarily, a gesture that made the mouse moan even more, and it punished the trucker with a sharp, intense pain, but one that dulled quickly. After a moment or two, Jeri slowly pulled his shaft free, and his seed trickled down the wolf's taint and across the back of his balls, making an attractive mess. Flopping over on his back, Ryan sighed in relief with his first time behind him.

Once more, Jeri was thoughtful and friendly, as if he changed personalities when he was dominating someone; something to consider, Ryan thought. He'd picked up stranger people. Smiling and blushing, the rodent took hold of the beary wolf's throbbing erection, and with skilled paws, he stroked and pumped the thick flesh, naturally lubricated with a sheen of precum. Ryan cherished the first painless pleasure he'd felt since the mouse rimmed him, closing his eyes and murring contently, resting his head on his folded arms. Owing to the anal sex, the trucker's orgasm was quick and remarkably messy, leaving a sticky trail of semen up his stomach and chest, but it was one that Jeri quite lovingly licked up, going so far as to end the naughty cleanup with a kiss on his lips.

I wound up dropping that mouse off outside his apartment. He invited me in, asked real blunt if I wanted another rimjob, and fuck yeah, I said yes! I'm not stupid. I'm gonna look for this kid again next year when that convention of his rolls around.

Shuddering and snarling, Ryan came like a geyser, shooting a jet of jizz up that came down with a neat, sharp splat! on his chest. Panting and murring, the wolf closed his journal, setting it aside, though it soon disappeared in the tide of trash. He'd find it again some other time. After enjoying his afterglow, panting while he came down from it, the trucker reached down, beneath his throbbing sack, and he slid a buzzing, thick, knotted dildo out from beneath his tail, turning off the toy and setting it aside, bearing a wide, satisfied grin on his muzzle. Grabbing out his phone, the old wolf checked his emails, business after pleasure, looking for his next job, and there it was, hauling oil rig supplies to some lonesome outpost in Alaska.

Ryan smiled, then wondered what kind of ass he'd be able to get in Canada.