FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

FILL 'IM UP By Eightane ****************************************************** Another week blows by, and I'm stuck on first shift.

"Remember the mop," I hear from Candice, the lovely marmot wench I call boss. Yes ma'am, right away. It's not as if the bleach I didn't rinse out last time's gonna rot; unlike the cigarettes above my head she refuses to toss. I'm pretty sure we have some Winstons that were made in the Reagan era; that's not to say I care, if the patrons here would still drop cash on them. Hell, if they already burn a pack for stress, just think if they were the ferret pulling counter duty at the state's busiest gas station.

What can I say. It gets me through school, and honestly I wouldn't give a damn thing to miss all the craziness that walks through those doors. Ever had a rasta' beaver walk up to you, his hair clamped with what I can only call 'pet plastic roaches'? Or maybe the elderly 'roo, who swore up and down that fish eggs are better for your body than soap, and that they cure shingles and liver spots, and then pulled out a vial and proceeded to demonstrate on her bald, pasty arm. Fifty years from now, my memoirs'll be on every coffee table.

You get used to plenty, working close to the interstate. Most notably the truckers, and holy jeez do we get our fair share. Bosslady knows me well enough that when one clomps in, and he's not deadly-repugnant, I get her little wink. Yeah, it's cute that you know. Know what else is cute? That it's always just fantasy, which drops out the second they spit a cheekful of Grizzly in the trash, or the condescending look they love to give me. Must be something about a tall, underweight rodent, in a clean olive polo shirt, who doesn't cough up his lung from miles of road dust.

And if you'd told me even five minutes before what would happen, I'd have told you to get fitted for a straight jacket.

I hardly knew what to think when he walked in. I looked up when the bell sounded - thanks, training - and it started well enough. "Good morrrnn..."

I was imprisoned; his eyes were the brightest chocolate brown I'd ever seen, and beamed above a cheeky smile. Picture my breath, just hanging still inside me, while I caught the rest of him; a seven-foot moose, his crow's feet suggesting an age around fifty. I'd never seen a wife-beater so spotless; save for tiny spots of dinge, at the bend of his arms, where they belong. So tight, over what I can only call a gymnast's build; not huge, but just clinging to his frame, and drying my mouth. I didn't think it existed, such an... Absence of body fat, on a man so mature. And it's easy to notice a tight, shapely rear; but when even the legs jump out at you, thick and sturdy in blue denim jeans, just screaming how goddamn well he takes care of himself... Well, you can tell what I go for, and how little of that he didn't show. Right about when he spoke, is when I thought to close my jaw.

"You awl'right, kid?"

I knew right then, I wouldn't sell him cigarettes; his voice was honey, so deep it could've come from his toenails. I nodded, at least; but so fast and shaky, like a toddler lying to get out of trouble. In a way, I wasn't far from that; Candice walked behind me, and I could feel her acknowledgement. I'm in lifelong debt for what she did next: instead of taking him at her register - which she well could've, with my statue'd butt sweating through my 'mask' - she reached in the drawer beside me, grabbed a pile of lotto tickets, and started filling the dispensers. "Morning, sir," was all she said to him; he repeated the first word back. So her inventing a task, meant service fell to me.

He strolled up, and I heard just how loud his boots drummed the tile; I imagined how big they'd have to be. "How can I d-do for you?"

Moose and Candice laughed out loud, together; who could blame them. My mind, at its weakest, still grasped for damage control. "Help you, I mean. Sir."

"I know what'cha meant, son, it's no harm." The more he spoke, the more my eyes prob'ly twinkled. "Just need a Pick-Six card, and a pack o' those energy chews. Orange."

"Yessir," I spouted, stupid-proper. It must be luck that I tore the right ticket for him; he'd reached under his shirt, and scratched between his chest and stomach. I caught a peek of abs, extendedly; they looked so smooth, and harder than the bulletproof glass around us. Down at my fly, began the pressure.

Jitters moved my hand, while I scanned the ticket; I reached for the orange chews, and nearly dropped them. He'd finished scratching, and now just stood there with his legs bowed out. Not so much it was unflattering; but wide enough that his bulge was front-and-center, just leaping out at me. The jeans were snug, not skintight; so the mound it made could only be its own huge diameter. I scanned the chews, and totaled out; praying for Candice to walk off somewhere, so the fuckin' throb in my pants could be a shade less awkward. He'd already shoved his hand through his back pocket... It reappeared with a black leather billfold, he leaned down to thumb through it, and God I had to look. I'd assume he didn't see me; checking to confirm those buns had perfect symettry. "S-six eighty nine, it comes to."

He smiled wider; my heart goofed off for five seconds. "Damn, cheaper'n the outlet upstate." A fat thumb raked over a 10-spot; it was put on the counter, somewhere between a drop and a friendly slam. Of course I noticed, when his gaze shot right into mine. "Might have to come here on the reg'lar."

I was 'with-it' enough to wonder why he'd made it so direct to me, with my obviously-boss at my hip. I quickly discovered she'd do more - better - than tease. "Is that your rig, by the dumpster?"

"Yup." I never liked that word before he tried it, taking his change as I miraculously held it half-steady. He looked out to where he'd parked; I saw irritation creep under that smile. "I gotta put some distance 'tween it and buildings; past week, it's backfired so bad it blew out a bank's windows. Hopin' my insurance don't drop the ball on'at."

She chuckled; the kind where you're more shocked than anything. "No kidding. My husband drives Hazmat, but I don't know a thing of what's under the hood." I felt her stare at me; I had to look over, and see that method in her eyes, before the payoff. "Tom here just loves to pick on that. I told him why learn mechanics; there's a reason I got married."

I got to hear his laugh, without hers. It was low, controlled; I could still only wonder what else on him was similar. He did as Candice, looking on me expectantly; but where she'd planted an idea, he took the bait. "You know cars, boy?"

Sort of... Here and there... Okay, essentially she lied. And I knew to do the same. "That's what I'm in school for. I wanna start my own repair shop."

His eyebrows came up, impressed. He leaned an elbow to the counter; I fought myself not to look down and see just how far that bulge protruded. "And how 'bout rigs?"

Keep the lies going. "It's part of my curriculum, yeah." I began to notice how far he'd leaned toward me; the same time I smelled his breath, warm but fresh. So even that was hygiene he cared about... I pondered love at first sight, while my hand stretched my collar; letting out the invisible steam. But my spirits crashed, to remember what I did. "Oh, you want me to look at it? I'm on the clock for four more hours."

"Well that's fine." Candice jumped in; God bless her. "We won't get busy 'til 10 or so." The way she looked at me, her pupils grinned more than any mouth could. "You can take an early break."

"I..." Speak, dumbass. I looked over to him, while he failed to protest. SPEAK. "-I'd love to." I thought of how eager it sounded. "... It's good practice, I mean."

I could see the gladness on his face; I'm sure I looked no different. He leaned up, and pushed hands over his haunches; adjusting his jeans, moving that crotch-hill just far enough to show how much was him. "Don't need to change, I won't have you climb under it or anything. I'm thinkin' it's in the cab, anyway."

Alright, I'm no Pep Boy, this future-chef. But even *I* wouldn't look in the cab for an exhaust problem. It so mystified me, I can't say I thought of much else, walking out from the counter, following his boots; okay, maybe how he'd sound when he moans.

The smell of gas was strong, like always, by the pumps. I saw a old beaver watch me, while he filled up his station wagon. Maybe he'd never seen attendants leave the building; maybe my khakis failed the test, to hide this uncut bone's shape. Where else did my eyes go but southward on that trucker, watching his jeans seam recess on every step. No hiding the curves of his ass, or his bulge's base, how it cupped his nuts low 'n' tight. Goddamn, I've never wanted more to trip, just so I could fall and have an excuse to grab hold... I could've sneaked a whiff of that gooch before he'd even have the chance to know I dove.

It didn't slip my mind what clothes I wore. So daydreams stayed just that, and I heaved my quiet sigh while we stepped in the shadow of his rig. I gotta say, even my distraction didn't disallow a whistle for the sight. He'd parked against a curb to the right, just outside our pump canopy, and even a cloudy day set it off in ambient light. Rich, royal blue on the cab, save for the grill itself, which was painted up in red flames; from the look of it, a job done by hand. He drove for Manackett, some bakery conglomerate up north; their logo ran down the trailer, swooping green letters on a pile of cupcakes. I was hungry alright, but not for sweets; he jerked the door handle open, laid a foot high on the side and pulled himself up, slinking those cheeks right past my face. I winced; it was almost painful, having my dick squeeze so hard against my pants, pushing to be let out and tended. I bit my lower lip; he crawled over the driver's seat and dropped himself on the passenger side, and soft black leather seats. I could barely keep my eyes on his, while he turned to me. "C'mon up, take a gander."

Yessir. I was nimble enough to take a leap and carefully latch my hand on the seatback; I was up and in on the count of a second. He motioned for me to sit back; I should've known, you can't exactly scrutinize the dash if you're pressed up into the wheel. I rest my spine on the upholstery; it was leather alright, and felt brand-new. Two things streaked through my mind: 'Is there anything about him he doesn't take good care of?' And the more dominant, louder thought: 'Is he actually staring at me?'

"You know wh'r the fuse box is in a Mack, or are ya that far studyin' yet?" He sounded curious, and a bit ... Warm. The way you'd talk to a student, or a protégé, or someone else you respect in a fatherly way. I could feel my briefs chafing me, just moving to search the dash; they worked hard to hold the pre I was leaking like hell. Concentrate, Tom... I yelled inside my head, and flashed back to some episodes of Monster Garage. Alright, checking the left side, on a brown wood console behind the grey steering column. I lucked out; squeezed both sides of a pressure lock, and popped out the cover. Felt my shoulders lift, and spewed a whooshing breath... Twenty fuses, and as that hunk next to me might say, not a damn one looked any right-er'n the last. I don't doubt he saw my eyebrows scrunch up; or maybe it was written in my eyes. Either way, before I could even start to talk about it, I felt a hand on my arm. Quick, gentle, and once I got past the shock, having my dick throb twice on every heartbeat.

"You okay, boy? You look pale."

Keep up the face. I tried relaxing, but skewed so far into that I all-but-slumped in the seat. He got to hear the craziest, most unnatural chuckle ever made. "I'mjustfin-ne, yeah. I..." Improvise, college boy. "... I've never done hands-on practice, it's always been books." Now I can last a good while in the bedroom, I've come to know; but if he didn't take that big, supple hand off my skin, I'd be cleaning DNA from inside my Kleins. Or at least I'd thought so, and it's a good thing I was wrong; that hand didn't move.

I can't say what finally lit the bulb; that in itself, or feeling him look at me; different parts, up and down. But I knew, certifiably, by the time his fingers whisked up the blade of my shoulder; the way a straight man would never think to touch another. My neck was lightning, swung to look at him gape-mawed; my whole body fluttered, down all the way past my ankles. I... I could spend the whole rest of this, writing nothing else but what I saw in that smile. He'd broken character; peeled off the innocent rind, and showed me the lie I'd been carted out to check. Those big brown eyes still looked just as friendly, but shared space with a yearning flash; so goddamn appetizing, just the fact he wanted what I did. His talk was redundant; but I welcomed it, just to hear him speak. "You're plenty smart. You know I wouldn't have you up here for a backfirin' problem."

My groan positively chirped; brought on by the leap in my chest. I watched his eyes lower; they made a line straight to my waist. I know he saw the movement; like my cock was beating at the door it stood behind. He spoke again, in a deeper, warmer voice than I'd ever think possible. "Peek in there, see if she's watchin' us."

I knew he meant the station glass; and fuck, I've never hoped more for anything. I could see rather easily; Candice had a line of three customers, and her limburger-cheese grin meant they had her full attention. I was about to swing back, and give him the good news; I wouldn't get the chance. He slipped a hand on the driver's seat, right where my ass warmed it; and straight under my weight, past the curve I'd packed into those slacks. My breath made a squeak; he didn't stop at my hole, but traced the crack from rear to front, sending heaven up my spine. I moaned like I was paid to... The same moment his palm guided onto my lower bulge, a hot cup around the balls, and so slightly squeezed them.

How I didn't lose it right then, I'll never know. It would wait, far past his sliding that hand even higher, to the smoking gun... Checking my size. "Yeah... Skinny guys, you awlways got it..." He admired it; I rolled my stomach like a water bed. Now was the tipping point; the place where I could finally look over him, time-unlimited, and not worry if it was welcome.

He had the slightest goatee; tiny waves, almost too shallow to spot against the fur on his face. I could smell his aftershave; a bright, spicy finish to that man-tini. I've already said the muscle just clung to him; but I didn't make it clear just how solid it was. Everything from chest to leg to elbow, toned like he was built that way, in some factory I wish could exist. And his fly - that mound on his skintight jeans - was risen, high and hard the same as mine. He laid a hand on himself; I so expected him to grab that zipper, and unleash the beast within. But he stayed rubbing it, tender, no more than simply teasing. I did all but bust through my chino's; he soon let me in on why the steady control. "Y'know there's a back to this thing... Comfy, private an' all set up." His hand went up, under his shirt; this time, he didn't yank it high just to scratch. God, I couldn't keep the moan inside me; he chuckled, and ran his fingers on the abs, feathering out brown fur. "That's a 'yes', if ah ever heard one."

He had me in a trance; I can only say the next few seconds were foggy, with him stepping over the seat, me watching him go, and following. I blinked back in when I almost fell over the front armrest; he didn't see me with his back turned, grabbing his shirt and peeling it off like a sock. The last straw; before he could even turn around, my arms were a storm of motion, yanking off every piece of fabric that hid me. He came to see the tall, thin form of this twinkferret, flat down my core until the root of my seven-inch tool. I was less priveleged to only see his bare chest; but it stole my breath, not even a wrinkle on his buff, mature hide. God, how fuckin' sly was his smile, with his hands moved to his jeans, at last unzipping them; I had a thought in my head, played on repeat. 'All that experience... Not a sign of age...'

My dick vaulted on its own; then instinct put my left hand over it, tugging slow as I could, drooling over him. His voice chipped through the haze on my senses. "Yeeahh, can't hardly wait. You oughta, boy... Let me tend t' that..." No zipper's sounded better than his; and what do I find out when it's down, but that he went commando. On that, most other men would turn me off... But how clean he kept, it just meant one less wall between him and action. The goods fell out, fast and heavy, wrist-thick and tipped with foreskin; it couldn't be less than nine inches, maybe more, and still not all the way hard. I was done, hooked, hopeless; I just dropped to my knees, and felt the ache in my gums; spit glands kicking in. They knew as I thought, I'd be tasting daddy's giant meat, sinking on it with love in my tongue. I had just time enough to take a fistful of his thigh, and anchor...

... When he grabbed me, and pulled me back to my feet. Just like that, I went from hot, to disappointed, to confused. And I'd found enough wits to ask. "What th-... What's goin' on?"

He unbuttoned, and the jeans were allowed to just fall as hard as I had. They stayed down, and I forgot my disappointment; just watching his monster swing below his globes, hearing him like he was half a mile away. "Lahk ah said, I'm takin' care o' you. Now look around..."

I took his direction; and damn, the things I hadn't thought to notice. Wooden shelves, riveted and level, clearly his own project... And they weren't holding groceries. I counted them off: a jar of Albolene, a spray pump of 'toy' cleaner, and the toys themselves; one humanshape tool I'd peg at about eight inches, and a goddamn dragon dildo, spined, pointed and a full foot in length. It almost escaped me, but my brain barely caught on, just as he'd pinned himself belly-to-the-wall. He stood tall, hands high on the metal, his waistline pooched towards me. It called attention to everything; a back bulging with muscle, so deeply-defined; the slight sway in his lower spine, which told just how well he was geared to that stance; and those cheeks, so hot and smooth you could fry eggs on them. Yeah, he'd sent the message... I knew what that tall, toned ball of macho really wanted.

But I couldn't say I'd done a lot of it; not how he invited. I know now he could sense it, while I stepped closer, barely curbing the shake in my breath. I stared on his form, taking in so much, from the godly shoulder blades to how he flexed that perfect ass, just taunting the hell out of me. Above where I stared, just outside my line of vision, I saw the tip of his head, pointing me south. "Takin' in the scenery?... Or just first-time jitters?"

I found I could speak without focus; facing him nude, I would have to. "I'm not a virgin..." I'd pay good money to know how he made that coy smile, and still did it so masculine. "Overawl, maybe. But your eyes don't lie. You ain't had a big pop like me wanna bend for ya... Get'chur tip wet..."

'Man, stop talking, or I'll blow white up that perfect spine.' I'd come up to him; laid my hand on his haunch, and then the other. How his eyes narrowed, told me I was in favour, and worth his patience. Then I heard it for myself. "You had it sketched on you from the second I walked in. Hope it ain't been as long since yerr last... Seein' you want me, I coulda bust out those jeans."

So from the start, his bulge was more than size alone: big and stiff for me. I reached up and around him; he would get what he wanted, but not before I indulged. My thin fingers met his abs, sweeping every curve and crevice, so flat, so hard, so right. I had to go further; my palms each clasped a pec, and God I could never keep from squeezing them. Like low, furry hills, with protrusions going firm on my lifelines. I thought he might grow restless; he grew alright, up to the wall; my panting face could look around him, and see the pre he'd dotted on the metal... His dick throbbed even deeper than mine, and the clear dot became a trail, seeping slow down cold alloy. I'd done little so far, but he gasped like he could barely stand up to it, just raw, uncompromised arousal; something else he made certain I heard. His voice could never be high, but while he dipped that neck, I heard it come the closest. "Jest... Use me... Take this rear, boy, wreck it..."

I hoped no one outside caught my groans; the one I gave for that command, or the longer, louder one after it, when I pushed up to him. His ass may've been so tight, but the hole within just gave; welcomed me, like I'm sure it had so many before. The best three seconds of my life, are what it took to push full-in... I looked down past all his beef, just to watch him hit my base. I didn't act alone; just like a gymnast, he had true control of his hips, and bucked into this twinkdick. Either he was jonesing like hell, or I'd just found the biggest, manliest slut on the good-ol'-boy network. He got his reward, the moment I could pull back and shove in harder. I watched his chin tighten; heard him take in air through his teeth; he'd put me in the zone, and nothing could make me go easy on him. I hit hard enough to ripple his thighs... Felt the rig rock, but I could give a damn about who saw. He gave me moans, the kind that put your heart to flutter, bearing goosebumps down your arms; and you couldn't count to ten since I'd broke in.

His neck stayed low, mine went up; it shocked me how amazing he felt, clenched around my prick. I've learned since then, a good uke makes you feel like you're in charge, lording power. He did what I'd think impossible: he made me feel strong, professional, huge. Like I packed the same as he did; and maybe he wanted that, got off on the fact he could put a guy like me on that pedestal. I took his ass for all it could give; hugged into him with both arms, just loving on that zero-fat no-wrinkle build. 'This fucker', I gloated in silence, 'He's MADE for action. Made for guys like me, and the bastard knows it.' I grinded him, letting so much flow through my force; pent urge, work frustrations, everything I wished to beat into submission. Felt my sack rub sweat from his taint, felt myself start leaking pre up in him as a drop of his fell and 'ding'ed the floor.

And then... I got ideas.

These eyes went to the shelving - I never slowed pace, he took the pounding of his life, and still swung that waist into it - and I thought of what would surely buy me time; if I stayed in that old-young-buck much longer, it might be the shortest pounding of his life. He never stopped his whore-moaning... Not when I shoved in a few good, cruel reps, and not when I pulled out. But I'd expected what he did, to look over his shoulder and grumble. "Whuh's up, kid, you gettin' butterflies?"

I chuckled for his 'colour'; then put on a sneer, thinking more and more like the top-dog he'd compelled me. "If I gave you what you want right off the bat, you'd think you're the boss... No, man..." My head twitched upward; while I hot-dogged that ass, lubed by my own pre, I'd pointed him to where I focused. "...A big bitch like you needs violating."

He looked up, saw the same set of toys, and peered back to me with what I'd only call sheer readiness. That hard ass rolled up, past every inch of my underside; the second time I amazed myself by not shooting like a firework. When I entered that truck, I'd climbed into buried treasure; he knew how to move, how to sound, and how to pull something out of me I'd never think exists. I was smooth as silk, reaching up to grab the humanshape toy; wrapping my hand around the latex, doing all-out-growls for how he rode the bulge of my underflesh. I had a toy of my own, rather like it; but I can't say mine was quite as big, or... Worn at the tip, from use. How many times could he surprise me, before it sank in just how much a slut he was. So apart from what he'd ever look or act like, and so goddamn hot because of it...

... I held that fucker tight, and lowered it. His hygiene had me trust he kept it clean, as I prodded his forehead, and slid it lengthwise down his face. He moaned louder, the surrogate dick rubbing past his sweaty fur, down his cheek, boosting his ass back into me. I learned more of what he couldn't hold back, when I passed his cheekbone, and saw his neck turn hard, to face his lips by the head. That lunge was something else; he snatched it deep, and just pulled it right in, head-and-more down his hot, wet tongue. I wanted so bad to shove back into him; I think I only didn't from the shock, while he throated the toy like it was real. Like it was mine, and all this while he hot-dogged himself on a ferret pipe that throbbed like it was screaming at me. Begging me to give him what we'd both assured, the second I stepped up in that cab.

"Mmmmm ", he murmured, his crave coming through the low lilt. I was sweating; the cab was lukewarm, but how he worked was scorching. Temptation won me, but I still showed control; sliding down to push my rod back in, but slow, and pulling out for seconds at a time. It was teasing him, and doing ten times worse to me. If my tongue had been loose in my mouth, I'd have bit the blood out of it; I was at least 'there' enough to keep it back, while gasping hums flew past it.

At least, until I thought to give more of what he'd want. My jawline slacked; I would do better than silence. "Yeahhh, shove it down." He whined under me, tightening his neck; I pushed another tease-thrust, and he tightened lower. "Feel good in your maw, y' big bitch? Yeahh, natural, for you." He bucked so hard into me, it's a wonder my thighs didn't bruise. I paid him back with the quickest push yet; from inch one to seven, up his tight hole, fast as he could whine like a dog. I watched him suck on that dildo, worshipping fat latex; it dawned on me why it had looked so clean. It didn't see action down below; he had one just for gobbling, the lust he could only pull through his lips.

And then, he thought he'd be sneaky. Shoot a tiny glance up, too quick for me to catch. But I saw it; where he looked, to the other, exotic shape sitting up on its shelf. I'd guess he wondered when I'd catch on, and give him more without his asking... Well why disappoint. I leaned into him, my hands skimming all down his muscular curves, blade-to-haunch. It dried my throat, how hard and hot they felt. "Daddy wants his hole filled? "

I'd expect a nod; not for him to pop the latex from his mouth, lob it behind us, and give me the hottest fuckin' thing I'll ever hear. "Oh Gawd, son, just take that dragon dick and throttle mah ass..." He couldn't say a word without pouring hunger over it.

So be it; I slid up his body, getting close to the shelf, running my shaft up the pit of his spine, feeling him shiver. It took a second just to figure out where I should grab; the rounded spines were a line, straight up its monster length. Good for me that my digits were slim; I could lock them between, and so snatched it with the chutzpah like a hunter grabs a gun. I made the slide back down; taking time to watch how he looked on me, the boy who made a whore of a man twice his age. His eyes were glazed, grateful, wanting, so much glory together; I thought of nothing else while I slinked down his backside, hands firm against his cheeks. The urge took me; I reared back, and spanked the hell out of his left one. The lurch I got, and the moan beneath his yelp, were all I needed to hit again, and then warm his right cheek the same way.

I gripped the spiked toy tight and true; its tip went to the button, fenced in by the red of his ass. Again, he looked back, just to watch me bring them together. I did, and more; his monster took my other hand's grip, and its fondling. I'd say this went the longest; the moment I sat there, over and behind him, my dick rigid as the cab around us, while I stroked his hanging hog, watched him draw breaths through that naked muscle, and pushed slight on his hole from the point of his dragon toy. If I had three hands, it would take that many just to clasp his length... Hot or no, it amazed me that a man that perfect, and hung, and manly would see a slim kid like this, and want me ruling him.

I'd ask no questions. Too busy opening him up, pushing to the lip of the toy-glans, watching his perfect ass just give in around it. Now, my tongue could loll past my teeth, admiring how far I had to run my hand, just to stroke from his base-to-foreskin. I guess it's luck, that only now he'd whine some more, a request that would end that portion. "B-boah, I know you lahk that, but please... Put'cherr hand up here, I'm beggin'... Right at m' cheek..."

His knees quavered; so if I didn't know the reason, I still knew how he ached for my compliance. I made sure to feel everything; from his dick, past the fur by his crotch, up one tender, pink cheek, those godly curves on his back, to the strong, smooth neckline. Just like he'd asked, my palm rest on his cheekbone; he turned face to it, and while I filled him with the first low spine, an inch past the head, I was taught how it feels to have my fingers sucked.

My dick stood idle, stone-hard, but I moaned... His lips on my hand, the heat, smooth dives to glaze me with his spit. I shoved the second spine past his hole; he barely lurched, and I burst air from my lungs, in a sound I can only call... *ahem*... flabberghasm. He pushed against me... Holy shit, I wasn't going fast enough for him. The third and fourth spines, in a fifteen-strong line, popped in with similar ease. His neck arched high enough that I looked straight on his antlers... They brought a snigger from the depths of me. My palm ran up and down his cock, like feeling a baseball bat... It was quickly stiff in my hands, and through its fat berth I could feel the pulse. Quick as mine, just as strong, and no less eager. Stickiness clung to my fingers; he pre'd on them with copious ropes. He took a pair more of dragon spikes; I wondered if his moans could get any higher, ringing sweet in my ears.

Things would be a while.

I laddered him; two of the spikes came out, pulled slow, before I put three back in. Careful, tender fucking, and for as much as he'd been jonesing for more, he ate it up. And I chewed every one of his wails, half calling my name like a whore. "OHHH-h-hshit... OH Tom... Fukkyeah, more..."

Once I'd pushed it in to the 'slit', the floorcage pooled with drool underneath me, and something else clear beneath him. He throbbed even harder... We had that in common. I thought only of release, and what I could do with a huge, bottom hunk like him... tense my arm and fuck the hell out of him like never in his life, flip him over and shoot on his dick, or maybe crawl under and suck him while he took his own toy. The choice both aroused and tormented me; a crossroads, I knew by the smidgen of me that still realized I was at work, I couldn't double back on.

I had time to think it out. And while I upped the pace, pulling and pushing those barbs, heart dancing for every sound he made, I sought the second.

He barely twitched, the second I shot my hand away from his dick and to his leg. I had to squeeze that thigh; it stood firm in my hand, and we matched moans, before my arm wrapped around it and yanked. This would be the one thing I know they heard, in retrospect... He clanged the floor like a drum of cinderblocks, and spread those legs to land wide. I'd counted on that; he touched his back to the bottom, and left that hole front-and-center, with a king-sized package sprung above it. The true test of experience... He took more dick than I could even guess at, and before they formed a search party for me, he'd be taking mine. Right then... I could settle for his shaft down my throat.

I leaned in, ran my snout up from the base. God, the way it smelled; any other time I'd be strict-against-musk, but when it's ten inches of manhood, bumping your nose with lifepulse, and it smells like it's been bottled up in jeans all day, washed in grease and other guys' mouths... Some things are meant to be strong. One flick up to his frenulum was all I could wait... The next instant, I opened wide and slid down his cockhead.

I've never been so thankful for a strong jaw. It took effort just to make it past his glans... Made no easier by thick, veiny foreskin that crowned him. His body acted like it didn't know where to give; push back into the toy I still shoved deep, then brought back to beat his pucker again, or thrust into my mouth and leap for the new source of pleasure. That he did both was amazing, and not just for its fact; I felt like I owned that fucker, taking ruthless out on his ass, while I moaned and plunged and suckled his cock. The cab had been a jungle for some time now; if it weren't for his skin, up every fat inch gliding past my nose, I'd smell nothing but our sweat.

The minutes piled on; my own experience meant I touched his base in record time, and had spent so long already just throating him, feeling it jab my throat. If you'd asked me, and I could somehow answer at the time despite myself, I'd have said I didn't think it would end. At least not with his own hand pulling my chin off him, to have his dick leave my lips, and my eyes watch him gasp above those abs, pinned to the wall by his back. My hand worked on raw subconscious instinct, and pushed his dildo smooth, fucking him the longest arc yet; I forced him to yelp an explanation like the helpless beast he was. "A-ah know, kid... But ah'll shoot..." Before he even finished, the look in his eye said he was pleading. "Indulge me one more thang..."

He ignored the tremble in his neck, and nodded it once; to the large vinyl pocket, behind the driver's seat just next to us. You can blame my focus, for not seeing it bulge out across from me... So he had some other toy, that was more worth hiding than the rest? I'm sure I looked astonished; curiosity galore, and I leaned up just long enough to thrust my hand in, sift around and come out with it.

Simple. Unassuming. Half a tube of IcyHot.

I cut a glance to him, grinning; it wouldn't take a genius to know what he wanted. His body rolled from the battering, latex with all its spikes jammed into him; he had me so turned-on I saw red, and not just the rawness of skin around his pucker. Bastard couldn't be more ready... So if I was gonna hold back, and not take that giant cock in my lips, he would pay the price.

I was hardly careful, wrenching out that dragontoy; if he'd been fine with it throttling his asshole, he'd be fine with a forceful extraction. From the second it left him, I watched the quake through his body; those muscles fired in random, all up and down his exposure, sputtering a wail so deep it couldn't sound more sub. It was cruel of me, but he loved it; and this wasn't the price he'd pay. The dirty shit already had me do his bidding, taking a role I'd have thought was his. But something in me was awakened; I saw him not as the beefy stud he looked, but the bitch in heat he acted. And I just stared at his asshole; prime, loose enough to open, but still taut enough to ravage. I dropped the toy over my shoulder, unscrewed the tube's cap, squeezed out a beading line and positioned myself.

First, to lay a hand on his monster, and slick it down with the product. His teeth chattered, while it chilled his hot length.

Then, to scoot close, and lay his thighs over top of mine. They weighed light; more of the compact frame, on this toned trucker god.

I saw that every side, every inch of his meat was greased, and still causing him shivers. My dick weeped pre; so many throbs, I'd been forced to let alone; but I could finally give what it needed. My hips pushed it in; the gloss on my head made it so easy to re-enter, just slink past his anus, and fill that daddy with REAL cock.

He'd never moaned louder, in spite of all I'd done to him; it was knowing, feeling it was me inside him, that drew it. I started slow, almost tender, pumping in and back, relishing his asshole. God, it was so hot on me... The trauma from before, or his body temp, or just how much I'd hit his every fetish, didn't matter. My neck threw itself back; I showed him how I was used to the other side, and emptied my lungs in a slut's pitch. Two uke's going at it; he bottomed with that priceless experience, riding me harder than I could plow. The only thing that stopped me going off, kept it back for long enough, was the focus it took to fondle him. The cream had been on him for a while; he'd stopped shivering, and I knew it was soon to reach the other sensation. I ran track back in high school; I'd used the stuff on my joints before, and remembered its action. The chill I can see wanting on your wood; a cold intensity to balance the heat. But while I went deep, hit those cheeks on every plunge and stroked his heavy package, I marvelled to think what he was in for.

The metal creaked around us, jostling while it rocked the suspension. I hit deeper, harder; he was so stiff around my dick, and I repaid him by beating up that hole twice as hard as I'd hand-fucked him. A new sound filled the cab; a banging on the wall, inside, from his antlers. I had his head in convulsions; it rose and dropped, hitting the steel with those worn branches. I'm sure you could hear it for miles... I'm a bit more certain I couldn't give less of a shit. If I could just have stepped outside myself, and paid pure attention to how he flexed and moved, so goddamn into what I did. Things were heating up, and more than figuratively; he'd started breathing through his nose, deep, rising "Ahhh"s... The grease had gone thermal on him.

I just gritted my teeth; shoved this rod far as it would go, swabbed his insides with manlube. The floor itself shook, while he pounded it with hits from his back muscle. Never had I seen a man so far from control; so deep in the moment, and at my hands. They flowed like water up and down his manhood, the grease passing lukewarm and rising. I made one deep, crude shove up his hole; it put his body right into the wall, and he seemed to ignore it, along with the crashing boom. My palms tingled; to the point that they almost burned, and while I thought on this, I almost cackled to know how much it was doing for him. "... Heheh, yeaahhh... Heat wave on the daddyslut. No a-arguing, man, it's gonna make you cum..."

How his meek, low whines went louder, confirmed it. I held his cock so tight, feeling every pulse on every side, the same blazing heat, the firmness that seemed to just deepen. I couldn't hit his ass any harder; and before he could cross that blessed line, he had things for me to hear. "Fuuuck, boah... I'm goin'... Beat mah hole up, ah-ah'm gonna fire..."

It was too good to believe, had I not been right there. I was selfish; I wanted one last word before he dumped all that creamy wealth. "What's my name... Who's the young buck diggin' up your ass? " I'll remember that pitch for life... How fucking smooth it just poured from his lips. "Tooo-o-oohhHHMMM..."

First a wail, then a rumble, then a roar. That cock went so rigid; his abs drew in to the slightest pit, and I aimed his fuckstick straight to my head. His whole body seized, and the first shot flew out, like buckshot from his beast. I thought I'd have it fire up to my mouth; there'd be no sucking him with the coat I'd smeared on, but I craved so bad to swallow. That day, I learned a straight line wasn't always fated.

It went everywhere. Just the first one alone, hit my cheek, my neck, chest fur, stomach and forearm. Honest-to-God, it was a burst pattern, like five different cocks instead of just his monster. The shock had me grab his hips so tight I pinched them red, and just rammed his open hole. I can't say which was hotter; how hard I took his ass for all it gave, the cum spraying over me, or how he played it out; anything but quiet, just screaming what I can only call the biggest, hardest climax ever seen by me. "OOHHHHH... AHHHHFUUUKK... NNNGGHHH... SHIIIIITBOAH... BEAT-MY-ASS-UP, FUUUUCK..."

He made a pastry out of me, just icing my chest with thick white, more and more. My fur held it like a wall hook; I stared down, so fucking hot to know he sprayed those loads due to me. Betweeen the flying ropes, I watched my own dick enter and exit him, at least as hard as him before he'd gone off. I couldn't last much longer; he blew jizz on my stomach, and finally down the height of my crotch, before he'd run dry. Still flexing every muscle, still teasing me with those deep-shaking whines. Could've been that he was pent-up, or the IcyHot, or just how massive his endowment... But even drained of every drop, he was still cumming.

My tongue just dangled; eyes watery for how long they'd been held open, rebelling on pleasure's want to have them shut. The home stretch; I pumped his pucker, groaned over him while he milked that orgasm, fingers bending and tightening. He'd be the most surprising lay I could fathom... Not meaning it's a wonder I could nab him, he'd seen to that himself. But the tricks he had in store for me, already, and now I'd find his last. He did the unthinkable: smacked both hands flat on the floorboards, fighting the tail of his peak, still groaning, and pulled himself off me. I saw a blur; he shoved back down, scraping underneath me, 'til he could line his chest up with my ass. And then this cock - seven inches of ferret, trailing pre like water, bobbing like even IT begged to slip back in and finish - disappeared behind his soft lips.

He slipped low and fast... Before I could stop my breath, flying out in hot bursts, his maw hugged the base of my crotch. Turning so slight, while I felt his tongue wrap the girth. It was instinct for my hips to flex; the same as for my ungreased hand to lift, and eke a trail across my chest, sweeping up the gobs of his climax. A virile trucker, cowboy of the freeways, swallowing every inch, better and more hungry than any twinkish dickmonger... I swallowed something else, nets of his hot seed, sucking my fingers with an equal greed to his. Shit, the expertise in how he worked that tongue, coddling the bulge of my urethra, padding my sack on every dive... Each second he stayed on was like a peak in itself. Just to think how it would feel when he got me there... My gut jostled and heaved, like I was in a coughing spell. The truth wasn't far afeld; every gasp I sputtered was an air bullet, just out of control like the rest of me. I still clutched the puddles of his seed from my fur; I must've looked a sight, in desperation to taste every swimmer that beefcake shot for me.

I can't say the speed with which it came on; time was beyond my comprehension, sitting over him, shaking in ecstacy. I could only clean myself so well, and left my fur with damp spots, mostly spit from where I'd licked my hand and put it back to task. But I recall the moment, and expect I always will; with his face between my legs, the first twinge made its glow; felt like the fur on my nuts stood on end. Somehow, he must've felt it, either in my swinging legs or a deeper, harder throb on what he pleasured. He'd already gave godly suction... But I saw his ass twitch, and right after, felt the strongest, greatest pressure on my pole I might ever. My thighs felt cool; swept by his goatee, and the drool that had infiltrated, while he threw his all to the wind. We made inadvertent contest; who was louder, me yelping while my dick took that grand reward, or him covering flesh-'n'-veins with the deep bass notes of his hunger.

The rise was insane; from my balls up every inch, it was like the footage of atom bomb explosions, played in slow-mo and centered on my rod. I wanted so bad to watch him take it; but my bod wouldn't let me, tightening and flinging shut my eyes. It wouldn't matter, I could feel in how he moved what he appeared; a smooth, sinewed trunk of living lust, rejoicing to have me give it up.

My neck wrenched back, then recoiled to aim my face vertical; the first rope went straight down his throat, as I heard his breath put off for a heavy swallow. It wasn't enough for him that he feast on my cream; every time I shook, screamed and fired off, he had a separate gulp. True longing, which he juggled with deep, strong reps from tongue and lip. History's irrelevant; I won't believe any man has ever had more a streak of submission. It's a fact he put through every dive, working my pipe while it shot thick juice down his tongue, purely sating us both. Even through my climax - the longest, most crippling I've known - I felt the heat, straddling his pecs. The cab was sweltering, but I'd not be made to care... I just yowled, bobbed my chin and rode out every godsend second. Hearing him alternate... Breath and swallow, whine, breath and swallow. If someone told me I'd shot enough to fill a milkjug, I'd call it truth in a heartbeat. At his hand - his strong, handsome jaw - I felt no less.

Sometime, it would have to end. Even the skill he brought couldn't take me on more than half a minute, before the flood lost fervor. Tingles down low on me relented; the tightness in my shoulders abated. I can only say I gave him everything he'd earned... For nearly as long as the peak, over again, I oozed, straight from slithole-to-gums. He kept on tight, but where the tongue had praised and tickled me, it went to scooping the trickle. I heard no swallowing; I knew he held it, right atop the field of his mouthmuscle. I'd opened my eyes; staring down on him, thinking how I'd filled his tight gut, a meal of my manchowder. And I saw him crack those eyelids, and move the crisp browns behind them. Only one place they seemed to want; looking up my core, inspecting every end of my build, white fur, damp dots and an even lack of beef. In that time, I understood something anew. He honestly saw men like me as the dominants; to him it was more than simple kink, but that a skinny, smooth male was born to make him bow.

In a way, I'd almost say I felt touched.

More than that, I felt blissful, drained and lazy. I wouldn't give those twenty minutes up for the world, but they cruised right into a dire afterglow-coma.

And like so much else, he seemed to sense it. He licked his chops, smiled up to me, but heaved a sigh that showed he wouldn't hate to leave it any less. "Back to the grind, eh, boy." No question mark, for no real question. "Helluva break though."

We shared a grin; I noticed even my chops felt heavier. "Fucking right."

He shuffled around; I took the cue, and lifted one leg to let him roll from under me. He took a while to raise himself, and sit up next to me, posed like a model; could've been the reality of age, but I'm more prone to think the burnout was likened to mine. His grin left rather quick; he was just as swift to tell me why. "Your boss ain't hardline, right? Ah'd hate to think she'll come down on you-"

I lisped a chuckle. "I'm not the only one she's over. If a twenty-minute break, and smelling like you..." I paused, just drawn into the sight of him, but remembered myself. "... is the worst I give her, that makes me her best employee."

He had to laugh; but like so many road-warriors, his principles governed him. The concern stuck fast. "Lean up, see if she's lookin' out here."

I showed a mouthful of teeth. Fighting lax legs, I put eye-level to the driver's side window, and assessed. She had a single customer; this time I saw her glance our direction, and though she smiled, it was the type that could mean a stern discussion. With her, though, I pegged it as unlikely.

So I slinked back, and made for the pile of my clothes. To redress, I had to stand; he was shameless enough to watch, as was I enough to be my slowest and coyest; injecting some machismo, just to jab at how he saw me. He placed a hand on the floorbaord; I would've helped him up, but unsure of how he'd feel, I merely let him. Of course, I wouldn't stop myself from watching his humongous tool sway, still shining in the grease, soft and heavy. I made sure we were out of eyeline; to take him in a hug with one hand, fondle him with the other, and lean in to joust tongues. So I didn't get much taste of his meat; but it was even better, taking in the mint-cool of his breath, with a strong share of my own cock and cum. Honestly, it's for that alone I might miss him twice as much.

I climbed out; we made small talk about cars, for the sake of appearance, with witnessess refueling around us. The last thing done before I turned and headed for the station, was him to lean back over the seat, open the glove box, and retrieve a sticky note. It was clandestinely shoved in my shirt pocket; I wouldn't know until I left that day, the cell-phone number that awaited me.

Candice was alleved to ask what kept us, and accept my lies... If she believed them, or just knew better and gave a cheeky pass, your guess is as good as mine. I did the rest of my time that day, and the minute I was off the clock, I went straight to my car and straight for my phone. I had hopes, you could gather, but they weren't so rooted in realism.

The hours flew by. He was three states away, and headed further.

We still chat, and often... He's always quick to tell me what he's up to, and if I'm where I can 'take a break', he's all-too-glad to lay out in detail his liasons, with lucky fools too similar to me. I still wait for his job to bring him by again... I can at least take joy in knowing that, once it does, I'll have that fact far in advance.

And he knows it's my turn to drive my mouth down to Dixieland.

End.