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Pete's Little List: The Walrus

Paperwork had to be the fucking worst thing in the world. At least that's how an irritated and overworked Pete D'caht felt as he signed his name at the bottom of yet another order form for windshield cleaner. Why the hell did he always end up doing this sort of thing? Being the boss of his own business, Pete's used cars, should have meant that he could allocate paperwork to his only employee Bubba. Let his underling be the one to miss out on sleep. Of course when he had brought this up to the gator the slick Cajun had not so subtly told him to go to hell. Completely ignoring any arguments Pete had voiced about how a "hard" and "honest" working man like himself should be able to kick back after a long day of work and leaving him to his fate with nary a care. Which is how he found himself sitting in his office at three in the morning, sorely wishing that he could just drop everything and lean back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk while he enjoyed a nice glass of the expensive scotch he kept in his desk and smoked a good cigar. But no all those pleasant thoughts of how to spend his evening were for naught. He had sit and go over tedious order forms and sales papers while his ass fell asleep. The only highlight of the whole affair was the momentary breaks that he was "allowed" to take every now and then. Which speaking of... he could go for one of them right now.

Groaning as his joints shifted and cracked from sudden movement, Pete unsteadily got out of his crummy old office chair and up onto his feet, muttering, "Fuckin' back", as he stretched his spine giving an audible pop. "Gotta 'member ta get myself a better chair." Loosening his tie the middle aged man padded over to the door and went outside, the chilled air and noisy traffic of the Spoonerville night hitting him with full force. Walking out onto the small porch he quickly reached into his back pocket and produced a cigarette and a lighter which he quickly used to light the small stick. After taking a deep drag and sighing, the cat next took out his phone and began flipping through a couple of pictures he kept on it. After seven straight hours of staring at numbers and legalise he needed a quick pick me up to fully enjoy his break and nothing made him feel better than going over his little digital photo album of sexual conquests.

The first few were of his son, all of them showing Pj in compromising positions which his ever-loving dad had been happy to take full advantage of. The boy liked it good and often, which Pete was more than happy to provide. The next set was of Howard Tarn and his next door neighbor Gary Wey. Both the bull and hippo looking nice and slutty in the leather and chain outfits he had forced them to wear. Pete had to laugh at the thought of the pair of them. Both red faced as they tried their damdest to deny how badly they wanted to get his pud up their needy asses. What followed them was a series of shots depicting different men of all shapes, sizes, ages, and species. All of whom were more than happy to pose for him after a good dicking.

As he looked at these dirty and obscene images the large cat wondered if maybe he could skip out on the rest of his work after all. Maybe get a little orgy thrown together. He knew for certain that he could get his son and his simian boyfriend to join him in his little venture. Wouldn't be too hard to convince the pair of sluts after all. They practically jumped at the chance to play with big "daddy". But just as the idea came into his twisted mind there was an annoyed cough from his right which snapped him out of his scheming.

"Just what do you think you're doing out of your office?" Bubba asked as he stood a few feet away from his old army friend muscled arms crossed over his large chest. "I thought you were going to get that paperwork done by morning? You know we need them parts in by next Tuesday."

Pete gave the green scaled man a scowl and snapped his phone shut. There was no way he was going to share his pictures with Bubba if he was going to stand there and nag him. "What the fuck are you doin' here?" He asked rudely.

Snorting at the lack of manners Bubba quickly pulled out a Tupperware container from his coat and showed it to him. "The petite called me up a little while ago and asked me to bring this here dinner to ya since you was working so hard." He began grumpily. "Of course if Bubba had known that you'd just be standing around smoking instead of doing yer job then he'd have just stayed in his nice, warm, and might I boast occupied bed."

"Stop yer griping ya overgrown suitcase." Pete snapped as he took another deep breath of cigarette smoke and released it through his nose. "A man can only handle so much of sittin' on his fuckin' ass."

Bubba only rolled his eyes at his friends reasoning. "You know Petey you wouldn't have so much paperwork if you'd just do it as it came in." He pointed out. The gator reached forward and pulled the cigarette out of Pete's mouth, taking a long drag of it himself. "Now quit stalling and get your tail back to work ya grand beede b'fore I get tired and drag you back in there myself."

"I'd like to see you try." Grinning evilly Pete descended the three steps to his trailer and stepped up to the taller man, his big belly pressing up against the alligator's muscled one. "If ya did go an try sumthin' that stupid I'd bend you over one of these here cars, yank off them overy-alls, and pound-I-nate that emerald colored ass 'o' yers till you cum like a holler monkey in ten seconds flat."

Bubba smirked both at the faux anger and the erotic imagery presented to him. "Tell you what boss man, if you go and be a good little boy and finish your work real fast I'll let you do just that. Pull down my pants right here in the lot and let ya fuck me on top of one of these here cars. Its late enough so no one will see you an me getting busy." Smirking the gator cuffed his buddy on the chin, much to the heavier man's distaste and turned away with a flick of his tail about to leave. But before the reptilian mechanic could the loud sounds of a vehicle in distress rang out across the area. Both men instantly shifted their attention to where the noise originated, eyes falling on a red and black semi-wheeler truck that was bellowing smoke from its carriage and lurching as it chugged down the road.

"Looks like that fella gots himself some serious trouble." Bubba remarked as they watched the truck come to an unsteady stop next to the lot. "We oughta be neighborly and offer ta help him don't'cha think?"

"Or maybe we "oughta" mind our own dammed business." Pete was quick to respond. He knew that tone. It was the tone his dear mechanic used whenever he was planning to go and help the poor smuck with a free repair job. It always annoyed him how easily the gator would help someone without any thought of how much he could squeeze out of them. "We ain't runnin' a charity here Molyneux so just pretend ya didn't see anythin'."

Bubba gave his employer a dirty look and completely ignored him. Playfully flipping him off before he jogged towards the truck. Pete not too happy at being disobeyed gave a frustrated growl and followed the other man not two seconds later with a huff and a few choice words about southern hospitality.

Approaching the smoking remnants of the large vehicle both men had to cover their noses as the thick black smoke seeping from under the hood reached them. Whatever was wrong with the semi it was something serious. Something that Pete just knew was going to require expensive parts from his garage to rectify. With a raised eyebrow Bubba almost timidly knocked on driver's side door trying to get the occupants attention. What followed were the sounds of movement and cursing from behind the fogged up window along with a heavy thud. "S'pose he didn't here me." Bubba reasoned with a glace back to his boss.

"Good then let's get ourselves outta here real quick-like b'fore he does." Pete huffed. The older man reached forward to pull the alligator back. Before he could however the door to the big rig suddenly swung open, the driver stumbling out of the cab driver large posterior first. His old looking Levi jeans just barely pulled up enough to hide his light brown furred covered butt crack.

Coughing and sputtering as he stumbled out onto the sidewalk the driver's heavyset body landed with a thud on the sidewalk his "ironic" trucker hat falling off in the process. "God dammed car!" He shouted in a Texan accent. "'Ah should've known better then to not listen to my mechanic." Standing up the driver revealed himself to be a middle-aged walrus dressed in a pair of old jeans, old tattered padded vest which was covered a red and black plaid shirt, and strangely a pair of black cowboy boots.

"Listening to a mechanic is always a good decision in my book." Bubba said responding to the driver's pervious statement. "It'll always save you a hellava lotta trouble."

The trucker jumped at the sound of the gator's voice and spun towards the other man, large fists raised and ready to defend himself. "Who the hell are you!?" He asked with a frightened sounding growl

"Relax cher, Bubba's not gonna do you any harm." Smiling Bubba casually over to the walrus and picked up his hat, handing it over to the other man with a waggle of his eyebrow. "I think this here belongs to you, non?"

The marine mammal instantly relaxed seeing the friendly and toothy grin directed at him. An effect Bubba always knew his smile did to people. "Sorry 'bout that." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took his hat back, carefully pacing it back atop his bald head. "But when your on the road as much as Ah am you gotta be careful who you talk to. Can't tell you how many of my buddies got themselves jumped by some punks looking for a quick score."

"Don't worry about it, I completely understand." Bubba said waving the confrontation off. "My big brother is in the trucking business himself." The gator went over to the big rig and began to inspect the damage. "In fact that's why we came up to ya. Used to fix his clunkers whenever they got banged up. So I think I can help you here with your rig."

The walrus made a hopeful expression but quickly let it fall. "You don't have to do that fella." He began. "My boss would have my hide if he knew Ah had some guy off the side of the road under on of his babies. He always insists that Ah go through his insurance company's approved repair agency to do the repairs."

"You call them at this hour and you'll be sitting here till noon." Bubba informed him flatly. "Just let this old mechanic here do his job and get you back on the road in two shakes of his tail and we'll just keep the whole affair between the three of us, alright?" The larger man gave the walrus a wink and then began to open the hood of the truck, giving a low whistle as he took in the steaming mess that was the vehicles engine. "Um... on second thought this here is gonna take some serious work. Maybe Petey can keep you company whilst I do my thing."

"Petey?" The trucker peered over his shoulder noticing a surly looking Pete for the first time. "Oh! Sorry didn't see you there partner." The walrus chuckled. "Must got more smoke in 'm eyes then ah thought."

"Yeah that must be it blubber gut." Pete's frowned deepened at that. The nerve of the man not noticing his glorious self. He on the other hand had been looking the portly walrus over the second he had come out of the truck's cab. Eyes roaming over his back and backside with barely concealed interest. He was nice and chubby similar to his own son only bigger. And the view he had gotten of that little bit of skin when the walrus had first appeared was beginning to make his mouth water at the thought of fucking him. Maybe helping this guy could turn out alright after all.

The walrus seemingly obvious to the insult hurled at him and the almost comically leering offered his palm in greeting. "The names Drakoulis, Mitchell Drakoulis to be precise. It's a real pleasure to meet you folks. Doubly so cause you're helping me with ol' bessy here."

Pete licked his lips and let his eyes trail down the other man's front, lustful gaze landing on the prominent bulge in the truckers pants for a moment before they snapped back up to the his eyes. "It was our pleasure Tusks." He said shaking Mitchell's webbed hand. "You better just make sure you got the bucks to pay fer any parts my man over there puts in."

"Petey!" Bubba barked, green head popping up from the other side of the truck's open chassis. "We're being good Samaritans and doing this free of charge, got it."

"Like hell we are!" Pete shot back. "You ain't going ta do any work around here for free! Especially while yer on da clock!" He might have wanted a little fun time with the trucker but there was no way he'd let that get in the way of any sort of monetary gain.

"It's three in the morning boss man so I ain't on the clock." The Cajun reminded him. "And I'll have you know that I can dammed well fix anything I wan-"

"-Wait a second fellas! Wait... a... second!!" Mitchell hollered above the arguing pair. "Ah thank ya'll for offering to do it for free but Ah insist on paying for any repairs needed." He said firmly. "In fact I'd be mighty embarrassed if Ah didn't. Mitchell Drakoulis is an honest man who pays his way."

Bubba sighed and gave his boss a dirty look before he gave the trucker worried one. "But it wouldn't be right to-"

"But nu'tin suitcase our man Mitch here says he'll be awfully em-bar-assed so let'im pony up." Pete interrupted. "Ain't that right?"

"Damn tooting it is." Mitchell said chuckling. "I just got paid for my last load so I've got plenty of money on me." To prove his point the tusked man pulled his wallet out and took out three one hundred dollar bills. "Now Mr.... Petey was it? How much will it be, I only got a few hundred on me."

"The names D'caht. And yup all dat cash there is exactly how much it's gonna cost for us... to..." As he spoke Pete shifted his focus from the money in front of him to Bubba. When he saw the angry and slightly disappointed look on his old friends face he gave an annoyed huff. Why did he always falter when that Cajun gave him that kind of look with those big old green eyes? "Fine! Just give me a hundred and we'll call it even."

"T-That's all?" Mitchell asked in surprise. He had expected it to cost every last cent he had. Happily the trucker gingerly handed over the money and then returned the rest to his back pocket, much to Pete's dismay. "Again it's mighty generous of you two to help an old trucker like me out at this hour. But... if I could be just a bit more of a bother would you mind letting me use your phone. Even if I don't tell my dispatcher about this break down I still gotta tell him about being late for my next pickup."

Pete's eye twitched at the perceived gall of the tan furred man. Asking for another favor after he was lucky enough to get them to fix his beat up old truck. But instead of calling him on it the large cat remained quiet. There was no need to insult their new acquaintance he realized. For two very specific reasons, one: he might not be so ready to have fun after being told off, and two: the rube had those two hundred dollars in his back pocket. The cash just begging for Pete to scam them right into his own wallet. Thumbing over his shoulder the sinister man said with fake cheeriness "The phones over there in my office so go and help yerself." There was a chuckle. "Just be sure ta not mess up the papers on my desk."

"Don't worry I'll be as careful as a church mouse on Easter Sunday." Mitchell said padding towards the trailer.

Once their guest was gone Pete and Bubba shared an amused look. "A church mouse on Easter Sunday?" The gator asked. "Don't think I've heard that one before."

"Like yer one ta talk 'bout southern idiot-iums swamp breath." Pete told him as they watched the walrus' large form hear towards the office. "Be sure and take yer time wit that truck, me and our new friend there are going to have ourselves a nice long talk."

"Merde, you aiming ta get this guy on his back already, aren't you boss man?" Bubba asked.

"Dam right! If I'm not getting all his cash then I'm sure as hell gettin' myself some 'o' that fat ass." The dark furred man gave his friend a sly look. "Why you askin' green boy, gettin' jealous over there?"

"Only about the fact that while I'm arm deep in motor oil you'll be dick deep in walrus." Bubba gave his boss the scaly thumbs up. "But this gator will be just as happy with some sloppy seconds, just be sure not to break him ya hear. I would hate to do all this work and not get something out of it."

"And you call yerself a good Samaritan." Pete remarked as he followed after Mitchell. He should have realized that the mechanic had an ulterior motive for helping with no monetary gain expected. Bubba was a good guy but he wasn't an idiot.

Walking up to the door of his trailer Pete stood there for a second, taking out a small list from his pocket. On the simple piece of paper was a list of several fur species, many of the names crossed out. Running his eyes down the names he came to the word "Walrus" and quickly checked it off. "One more down." He snickered dirtily.

After entering the office Pete found Mitchell standing next to his paperwork laden desk, the receiver of his phone pressed up against the side of his head. "Yeah, yeah I know it'll come out of my pay so don't worry." The man said obviously being chewed out at the other end. "Yes... sir... Ah know, yes... no sir, yes sir! OK AH GOT IT BOSS! I'll take to ya'll later Ah promise!" Using considerable force the trucker slammed the phone back onto its cradle muttering to himself.

Chuckling at the temper on his guest, Pete sauntered slowly over to his desk and took a seat behind it, leaning back so that he could eyeball his soon to be conquest again in the more intimate setting. Like he had noticed earlier the man was nice and plump. All those hearty trucker sized portions of roadside cuisine had fattened him up just the right way. The walrus' mug wasn't bad either. A nice round full face with a big bushy mustache that topped a pair of short pearl white tusks. Pete bet that face would look even better pressed up against his crotch as Mitch gave him head.

Noticing that Mitchell was staring back at him awkwardly Pete snapped out of his inner obscene thoughts and reached into one of the drawers of his desk, taking out his scotch and two glasses. "So... you get everything handled Tusks?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah if you can call that mess handled." The husky sea mammal responded with a relieved sigh. He had begun to become nervous at the way the other man was glaring at him. "Don't know why that old goat has to ride my ass so hard."

'He's not the only one who's goin' ta get himself a ride.' Pete smirked at the walrus' choice of words as he poured the drinks. "Yeah well... sometimes us bosses just get hotheaded-like." He explained. "All that paper work and overtime just gets ta us. I know the only thing that gets me by is a good stiff drink, heh-heh, among other stiff things." The large man pointed over to the couch. "Why don't you and me sit ourselves down and take a load off. We can shoot the shit over a few drinks while ya wait fer yer truck ta get workin' again."

"That's awfully nice of you Mr. D'caht." Mitch said sitting down on the couch. "But I think I'll pass on the drink. Got to be ready to roll out when your man fixes my rig."

"Don't you worry one bit trucker boy." Giving the brown furred trucker a grin Pete picked up both glasses of scotch and joined him over on the couch, the large car salesmen sitting down next to the walrus with a heavy thud. "It's probably goin' ta take ol' Bubba out there a while to fix that disaster so, Drink up! It'll do ya a world of good."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow at the way his newfound "friend" was cozying up to him. But shrugged it aside maybe that was just the way the man was. Plus that bubbly glass of liquor was very inviting. It had been a hard day after all and the idea of getting buzzed was tempting. "You know what? Your right." He finally agreed. "One or two little ol sips won't hurt."

---

Six glasses of scotch later...

"And that's when Ah go an tell... *hic* ... Ah go an tell her that's not my big rig darlin' that's my fist!!" Mitch exclaimed tipsily as he let out a deep belly laugh and slapped his leg.

"That's gotta be da dirtiest fuckin' joke I've ever heard!" Pete laughed equally as drunk. "Almost makes me wish I was there when you went and told her!"

"Trust me you wouldn't." Mitch said seriously. "Earned myself a nice shiner for when she hit me. ...BAM!" The truck driver suddenly swung his fist, spilling the remaining contents of his drink as he moved. "Fuck... looks like I'm dry again! I sure hope you got more of that sweet ol nectar?"

"Maybe if you'd drink it instead of throwing it blubber gut." Pete chortled. Despite the car salesmen's earlier reluctance to help the walrus he had been having a good time sitting with him. The pair spending the better part of an hour drinking, talking about their work, and telling dirty jokes. If it wasn't for the stack of paperwork eyeing Pete from his desk like a fat frog on a lily pad the middle aged cat would have sworn that he was in his regular bar chatting with an old friend. He was in such a good mood that he didn't even mind having to break into his back-up bottle to continue their little chat.

Clumsily the large man got to his feet swaying a little from his inebriated state and staggered his way over to the file cabinet where he kept his best scotch. As he moved he was surprised to feel a sharp pinch at his backside. One that caused him to yelp in shock and spin around with fire in his eyes. "Heh, sorry if Ah'm being too randy for ya Yankee. I just get a little... excited when Ah'm all liquored up. That big ass yours just reminded me of the last girl I was with. She was a cat too"

"You saying my "dainty" little can looks like some broads?" Pete asked with a wag of his butt.

"When I'm this drunk it does." Mitch snickered. "To bad you ain't a female though. Been near a week since I had myself some good pussy and I'm hankering for some sex bad."

Pete gave his visitor a smug grin. He knew how to play the rest of this situation so that it turned out just the way he wanted. After retrieving the back-up scotch the dark furred man rejoined the walrus on the couch, sitting down next to the other man with a grunt and making sure that his hand oh so "innocently" landed on Mitch's knee. "Ya know... iffin yer really that hard up fer some fuck-I-natin' then I might have a way ta fix that there problem for ya."

Mitch took a long drink from his shot glass before and gleefully let Pete refill it. "You know some nice ladies who would be willing to come over and play doctor?" He wondered.

"Naw I was sugestin' that..." Pete began slyly. "...maybe we could have ourselves a little fun. Jus you and me and this couch here."

The sexual proposition seemed to have the effect of sobering Mitchell right up instantly. The chubby man trying and failing to get to his feet in a sudden hurry. "Now, now, now wait here a second there! Ah ain't no queer, so just back off wit that sort of thing!" He tried to say. Although his denial came out more like a series of comical slurred words and hiccups.

Pete was just as quick to respond to Mitchell's flight, pinning the trucker down with his body and leaning in towards him till they were nose to nose. "This ain't 'bout being queer Tusks this is 'bout cummin' and fuckin' some ass." Reaching down the horny man groped the walrus through his jeans. The marine mammal's cock giving a hearty pulse when he did. "And b'sides, looks like yer little tusk down there won't object-ta-ma-fy to who's playing wit it."

"Ah... ah don't care what you think it says he says." Mitch managed to grunt out after another four good squeezes. "Ah don't think Ah could look myself in the mirror afterwards."

Pete rolled his eyes. Why did some men always try to deny how good he could make them feel? Luckily for this particular situation there was plenty of liquid courage to lube the gears of their playtime. All he needed was to find the right angle to get his way. After thinking for a few moments an idea suddenly came to him. "How about this truck jockey. Let's play ourselves a little drinkin' game so no one has to take da blame for what we do here. We each take a full helpin' of scotch and drink it in one shot. Every time we don't finish we got ta do anythin' real dirty-like the other guys tells us ta, no backin' out less yer some sort of pantywaist."

Fidgeting in his seat Mitch seemed to mull over Pete's challenge to his manhood strange as it was. That nice big hand just felt so good and the poor man's mind was just so buzzed from the warm drink fizzing about in his head. He needed to get himself off after the long haul he had just finished and this man feeling him up was more than willing. "Alright fine." He finally managed to gasp out. "Just... just promise me son that you'll never tell a soul about any of this."

"Who the fuck am I going ta tell blubber gut." Pete told him. Grinning, he slowly placed the rim of his full glass against his lips ready to tip the contents into his mouth. "When yer ready call it!"

Mitch nodded and matched his host. "1... 2... 3... GO!" Without another word both men began to drink, the room falling into complete silence as they swallowed gulp after gulp of the burning amber liquid. It was Mitch who faltered in the contest first, coughing and hacking as the booze he was consuming went down the wrong pipe, forcing him to stop with a growl of frustration. "God damn it!"

After successfully finishing his own drink Pete gave the walrus a knowing look. No one had ever beaten him at this sort of game. "So it looks like I got myself a little favor comin' don't I?" He taunted. At his guests meek nod he grinned. "How 'bout I go easy on ya since this is yer first loss and be real sportsmen-like?" Pete spread his legs and pointed down to his lap. "All ya gotta do is return the favor I gave ya earlier and give 'm package a good squeeze."

Being a man of his word Mitch hesitantly pushed his free hand between Pete's outstretched legs. His webbed hand quickly finding and groping the hidden tube of flesh just under the thin pants for a few seconds before he pulled away, his face glowing red. "There Ah did it, ya happy." He pouted

"Happy as a pig at a buffet." Pete crowed loudly. "See you ain't the only one who can make shit up. Now stop yer mopin', we aren't done yet." The big man quickly refilled their glasses and counted down again, starting the second round. At first it seemed this round like the first seemed to be going well for Pete, but half way through his chugging the glass unexpectedly slipped out of his grip, the scotch to spilling all over his shirt and pants. "FUCK!" He sputtered as he was drenched.

"AH-HA!" Mitch cried out loudly after he downed the last of his drink. "Now it's your turn to pay up son!" The truck driver thought his prize over for several seconds making a show of the event then suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ah ain't as forgiving as you are ya ol polecat so I'm going to take off running right outta the gate." He mimicked Pete's position, opening his legs as wide as he could. "Go ahead and kiss the little "Co-driver" I got down there in my drawers like a good queer."

Pete took a swig of what little remained in his glass and slipped/slid off of the couch, undoing his soon to be fuck buddies jeans as soon as his bottom hit the floor. The metallic sound of the other man's zipper echoed ominously inside of the small office/trailer as Pete pulled it down both men maintaining eye contact as the sinister man reached inside and pulled out the driver's meaty and rapidly hardening cock from its tight confines. Licking his lips when the gamy musk from the walrus' crotch wafted up into his nose. Though he'd never admit it Pete had grown to enjoy giving the occasional blow job. There was just something empowering about making a grown man beg and squirm from his expert touch. And when things got real hot he was in the perfect position to start prepping his "lover" for more intense activities. "Keep them hands 'o' yers away from my head." He warned just before he started his dare and began to nibble on the very, very tip of Mitch's manhood, swirling his thick tongue around the piss slit which was oozing with the beginnings of precum.

Feeling the slick and dexterous organ massage the crown of his cock caused Mitchell to throw his head back against the back of the couch and let out a long groan. "Fuck... dam boy that there is some good head." He murmured letting out a harsh gasp which bristled his mustache. "You do this often?"

Pete didn't know how to feel about being called boy but he chose to let it got if only because he'd soon show the trucker who was the big daddy around here. "Naw I'm usually on the receiving end of these arrange-ga-na-mints ." He explained as he began to take in more dick. "So-sh you better-sh enjoy this-sh fatass."

"Oh, Ah will trust me." Spreading his legs further apart the trucker sat there contently letting his newfound friend suckle on his cock. Wherever this man had learned to give blowjobs it needed to be enshrined and its teachers honored. The way he stroked the shaft, the way his used his teeth just enough to make the shaft tingle! It was pure and utter magic. In his fevered moaning and sighing Mitch unconsciously found himself raising his hand and resting it atop Pete's head urging him to take him in deeper.

Pete was quick to respond to being forced fed the brown furred man's dick and pulled it out of his mouth. "What did I tell ya about doing that fatass?" He growled. "Maybe I should stop iffin yer not going ta listen to da rules." Pete licked Mitchell's cock with every word of the last sentence, making the man above him whimper at the sensations and the thought of it stopping.

"S-Sorry I just... *hic*... just couldn't help it." Mitch explained bashfully.

To punish the walrus a little Pete flicked the thick member he had been nursing on with his gloved finger a few times. "Fine but since ya went and did that own me something later."

"Sure, sure just get back to sucking." Mitch begged, hardly listening to what had been said. Then as an afterthought he politely added. "If you'd please Mr. D'caht."

Pete harrumphed at the command giving but continued. This time going to the hilt and swallowing Mitch in one glorious gulp. 'Let's see how he handles this!' He thought smugly. Slurping he started to bob his head up and down quickly, massaging the underside of the cock in his mouth as it passed back and forth between his lips. Making the man sitting above him nearly jump right out of his boots as his mind was assaulted with unbridled lust.

This continued for several more moments before Mitch finally had had enough and pulled D'caht's sucking maw away from his now sensitive penis. "Mercy, D'caht! Mer-er-cy!" He panted. "Ah don't think I've been blown that good."

"What can I say? I learned all I could from this regular slut "o' mine." Pete said, his mind going back to his own son and the numerous blowjobs he had gotten from him. "So you ready fer another round."

Mitch was quick to respond righting himself in his seat and practically buzzing. "You bet."

"Good answer tusks." Pete set them both up for another go and commenced their next round. Pete intentionally losing the game this time, the next phase in his plan starting. "Well... what do ya know? It looks like you've gone and won again there Tusks. What'll you make me do this time?"

"Another blow job!" Mitch commanded with a smirk. He just knew that this Yankee wouldn't be able to keep up with him.

"Aw now let's not be borin' Drakoulis, be more imagine-able." Pete chided playfully. "How 'bout I show do sumthin' to ya that's a hundred times better then suckin yer pud."

The walrus nodded to the idea, too horny and drunk to think clearly at the moment. "Fine just hurry up I'm about ta bust a nut over here!"

"Pull them jeans down then and show me that ass you keep teasin' me with." Pete ordered. After seeing the chubby walrus' ass crack just peeking out from under his jeans the used car salesmen was more than ready to get an eyeful of that brown fur colored moon.

Pete sat back on his haunches as Mitch stood up on wobbly legs and started to unbuckled his pants with a dramatic flair. "You loving this D'caht?" He asked as he pushed his pants down over his hips with little grace and stepped out of them, leaving himself naked from the waist down save for his boots which remained on his feet.

"Heh-heh don't wear any underroos do ya buddy?" Pete laughed a she observed the bare thighs of his early morning guest.

"Nope they only get in the way when yer busting for a piss after a long ride." The other man explained. Chuckling the truck driver took his dick in hand and wagged it a few times. "Sure you don't want ta just suck it again? Ah won't object none."

"Knock it off ya horny bastard." Pete huffed. Before Mitch realized it the kneeling man placed a hand on his hip and spun him around till he was facing the opposite direction. "Now bend over and let me see what I can do ta make ya a little more happy."

Mitch gave a grunt and leaned over the couch, presenting his ample backside for Pete to do whatever he had planned for it. For a few moments the rotund man wondered how he had ended up in this sensation exactly and if he should be nervous about the fact that here he was participating in gay sex. However these doubts dissolved into mush when he felt a thick finger push its way into his crack and begin to tease his extremely sensitive rear entrance. "FUUUUUUUCK!" He hissed out through gritted teeth as he was prodded and poked. "Nev-Never had someone do that before. But shit, that feels real good... keep at it son!"

"Heh-heh now how did I know you'd love this." Pete mocked. "Any man who tells ya that he don't like a good fingerin' is lying Mitchy m' boy trust me." Pushing his way into the other man Pete began to hook his finger seeking and searching for just the right angles to explore in order to drive his companion wild. With each inward jab he was treated to a gasp or some obscure Texan curse word which made him snicker and lick his lips. All it would take is a few more minutes of this and he'd have his way.

As he stood there bent over ass exposed and invaded Mitch couldn't help but hum in enjoyment and wag his hips a little. If any of the boys at his local stops saw him now they'd bust a gasket at how gay it all was. But at that fucking moment the walrus couldn't give two cents about that. All he cared about was how nice that thick finger felt. "Come on really work it in there boy, make this ol' convoy cowboy croon!"

"Anything ya want buddy." Pete cooed with saccharin sweetness. "But I think yer forgettin' 'bout our little drinkin' game." Not stopping for a moment Pete unsteadily reached over and filled their glasses one again, being mindful not to spill a single drop as they sat on the couch. "Ready?" He asked.

Mitch only halfheartedly nodded to the question and picked up one of the drinks, pressing it to his lips. "R-Ready!" He stuttered out. Together they both began to drink, Mitch quickly losing when Pete suddenly found the walrus' prostrate and mercilessly attacking it.

"Looks like I win this time." The feline announced as he removed his hand from Drakoulis' ass.

The pleasant finger now gone Mitch slumped down against the couch head coming to rest on the wall behind it. "Aw shucks and here I was getting into this finger fucking"

"Well I got good news fer ya then cause I was thinkin' about fuckin' ya some more." Pete informed him. "Jus a little more intense-like."

Mitch turned around pleased that they were going to continue with what they were doing but his eyes became wide as he fully realized what the other man had meant. Sometime during his stunning fingering Pete had somehow removed his shirt, bare torso still a little damp from the scotch he had spilled on himself earlier and was currently in the process of removing his pants and underwear. "You're planning to fuck me?" Mitch said a little outraged. "Cause if you're planning that then Ah'm going make it nice and clear that Ah'm in no way, no how gonna let you-"

"-Cram it hayseed!" Pete snapped. "You lost so you gotta do what I want. B'sides ain't nobody gonna find out 'bout this. It's jus you an me and my big dick here in here 'member? And I tell ya it's a fuck-load better then havin' my middle finger up there."

Mitch ran his tongue across his bushy mustache, an old habit he picked up long ago and sighed. The used car salesman was right. There was no backing out without damaging his pride and... no one would ever know he took it up the ass just this once. "Shoot, D'caht I guess I won't argue none then. Just be real gentle when you do it if ya can."

Pete laughed happy that he had won and almost effortlessly repositioned his newest slut onto his back, instructing the chubby walrus to hold his legs up so that he could enter him easily. "Bet you're nice and tight." He remarked as he slapped his rock hard member against Mitch's taint. The brown furred man looked awfully hot laying there on his back. Pantsless, but still dressed in his plaid shirt, padded vest, and cowboy boots. "Nice... And... TIGHT!"

"Just shove it in ya pug-ugly bastard!"

Pete gave a feral growl and did just that slamming his cock into the man under him in one steady push pulsing and fully erect cock hitting the mark without any assistance. He had been right about the walrus being virgin territory. The trucking was clenching his manhood with a vice-like grip almost making him loose it then and there. After savoring the feel of a new hole for fucking the dark furred man began to move. Slowly pulling his cock out till just the head was trapped inside and then plunging back with considerable force.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Mitchell grunted as each inward thrust connected home. Obviously the man above him had been lying about getting fucked feeling better then fingering. This was agony! The blunt club working its way in and out of him getting faster with each gyration was hurting like mother-fucker. But then something happened which erased any memory of pain. Pete suddenly hit something deep inside of him just the right way which made Mitchell shout out "YEHAW!" As stars filled his vision. "What the hell was that?" The truck driver called out once his mind regained a little of its senses.

"Oh that was just da big man here hittin' yer joy buzzer." Pete said causally. Angling the same way again he stabbed the same spot he had just hit again and again and again and again, each thrust causing another scream to rip from Mitch's throat as his body tingled with pure pleasure. "Come one tell me iffin I'm doing a good job gotta know if I'm hitting the right spots."

"Damn right you are!" Mitch hollered. This was amazing! No wonder all them sissy boys at the truck stops flocked to the rigs selling themselves to his buddies who didn't care who got them off. He could see where they were coming from now. If getting breed always felt like this then he'd have to reevaluate his women only rule and get himself fucked once and awhile. "Go harder partner!" He demanded, beginning to slam backside against Pete's forward motions. "Make me feel every inch of that sweet ol' sugar stick you got up my fat old ass!"

"Heh-heh fat slut." Pete sneered lustfully. "Like gettin' railed by my D'caht meat? Love feelin' it fuckin' yer big ol chunky ass!"

"Ah'm happier then a gopher in soft sand Mr. D'caht!" The man in front of him responded with short gasps. "In fact... *ahhh!* ...in fact Ah think... *fuck right there* *yeah there* ...Ah think I'm gonna... ... ... AHHHHHHHHHH!" With a shout that would put his semi-truck's air horn to shame Mitchell Drakoulis came with thunderous force. His thick walrus cum splattering on his belly while he shouted every single curse word he had ever heard in his entire life.

Pete followed not two seconds after. Shooting his mighty load into the well fucked ass he was using, while he gritted his teeth and clenched Mitch's hips hard enough to leave bruises that the trucker would remember with pride.

For several moments afterwards both men stood perfectly still letting their shared orgasms began to fade ever so slowly. But eventually one of them had to move and ruin the post coital bliss and the one who did was Pete. The dark furred man giving his fuck buddy a well-earned slap on the ass as he pulled out with a wet sounding pop. "How was that "convoy cowboy"." He joked using the truckers earlier moniker.

"A real thing 'o' beauty." Mitch said almost dreamily. Now free from the weight on top of him the walrus shifted his weight till he was sitting on his butt again. "Don't think Ah've ever cummed like that before." He commented as he rand his fingers through the cum soaked fur on his chubby belly

"Getting' fucked will do that to ya." Pete said with a heavy sigh as he sat down next to Mitch. Looking over to their glasses Pete smirked and held one of them up to his companion. "Wanna go another round?" He asked. "Nights still young and I gots lots more energy ta fuck around."

The trucker let out a long braying laugh his large gut jiggling as he chortled. "You on!" He finally said a determined look crossing his face.

---

A little while later...

Bubba stretched and yawned as he walked back towards the used car lot. It had been a tough job but he had finally finished every last repair needed on his new friend's truck. Now all he needed to do was tell Mitchell and help the fella on his way. Of course judging from the sounds he had heard earlier maybe the walrus wouldn't be in such a hurry to leave just yet. The gator had never heard such a racket as the one which rang out while he made one of his many trips back and forth from the garage for supplies. Almost made him wished he had insisted on getting some alone time with the chubby trucker first.

Walking up to the trailer/office on the lot and gently peeking inside the Cajun was surprised to find his boss Pete D'caht sitting in their guest's lap. Asscheeks spread apart as the walrus worked his manhood in and out of the larger man's black furry bottom. "Now I'll be! Ain't that just the best sort of surprise." Bubba said to himself. "Would be just a terrible shame if I didn't go in and join them two cuties." Grinning the alligator pushed open the door and walked inside. Getting a shout of welcome alongside a shout of surprise as he began to undress.

The end for now...