On My Way To...

PhoenixStories

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Chapter 1: "... a Bar" (Part 1/2)

"Everything is bigger in Texas," the neon sign said. "You can say that again," I thought as I drove past it. The roads. The desert. The loneliness.

My eyes started to close as the sky got even darker. No! I jolted. I have to stay up! "The worst is over," I tried to convince myself.

Gotta keep going until I make it to Dallas. I'll find a place to crash there. It was the goal I'd set for myself when I left. "And I ain't no quitter," as Bubba would put it.

Still, my stubborn eyelids wouldn't listen, lulled down by the rhythmic humming of the car. The next time I jolted, it was almost too late. Mere seconds from swerving off the road. After all the shit I've been through in the past four years… what a fucking way to go.

Half an hour later, I finally saw a sign of civilization. A dive bar, off the side of the road. I better take a break here. Like it or not, I needed it.

As soon as I opened the door, all eyes shot my way. There were only three people in the whole place, all men. Two of them shooting pool, one behind the bar. After seeing I'm not one of the regulars and inspecting me for a couple of seconds, they went back to what they were doing.

I took off my hat and headed to the bar.

"What can I get ya?" the man asked, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Maybe I'd just interrupted his smoke break. Still, he sounded friendly enough. With his shirt half-unbuttoned and stained wifebeater underneath, he reminded me of Bubba's dad.

"Whatever will keep me awake," I tried to imitate his Southern drawl the best I could, or at the very least, sound neutral.

The man moved slowly, biding his time, yet his movements seemed rehearsed and routine. Thirty seconds later, a glass of whiskey hit the hardwood bar in front of me. The bartender didn't seem concerned with asking for ID, even though I could sometimes pass for someone under 21.

The glass was opaque, as if it'd seen the inside of a dishwasher too many times. I downed half of it in one swig.

"Ya ain't from around," the man said. It wasn't a question.

"No, sir," I agreed.

"Ya look like ya wearin' a Halloween costume."

"Oh, really?" I chuckled. In my plaid shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and cowboy hat, I thought I looked pretty authentic.

"It ain't about what ya wear, it's about how ya wear it," the man read my mind. "All that stuff looks it's never been worn before. Well, except for that there belt buckle."

My smile faded. Without realizing, my fingertips went down to my belt buckle and caressed it. In another swig, I finished the second half of the drink.

"It was a buddy of mine's, from the military," I said.

"Mighty fine of him to let ya have it."

"He did't. His family did. This morning, after his funeral."

"Well, shit. Sorry to hear that, boy."

It was a generic saying, but it sounded heartfelt. The man moved around and, without asking, refilled my glass, before pouring one for himself as well.

"To your buddy," he said, taking the cigarette out his mouth.

"To Bubba," I raised my glass.

We downed the drinks bottoms up, before the bartender poured another round.

"Do ya mind?" he said, taking out a lighter.

I wasn't from around, but I was fairly certain you couldn't smoke in bars round here. For all I knew, though, this was his bar, and I doubted the two other men in here would mind.

I shook my head.

"Ya want one?"

Another short head shake.

"So, is that why you're here?" the man said after taking a long drag and exhaling the smoke.

"Yup."

Bubba's funeral was in El Paso this morning. It left me driving through the Chihuahua Desert during the hottest time of day.

"Did your buddy die here, or… over there?" the man asked. He sounded more concerned rather than nosy.

"There," I said. My answers were monosyllabic, but I was happy to have someone to talk to, after eight hours in the car by myself, only taking breaks to piss off the side of the road.

"Ya back for good?" he asked between puffs of smoke.

"Yeah," I nodded. Not that it's been very good so far.

"And where ya headed next?"

"I have no fucking idea," I thought.

"Dallas for now, then Oklahoma."

The man could tell I was neither from Dallas nor Oklahoma, but he didn't ask any questions. He just smoked in silence.

"I'm driving across the country," I said, preferring to talk than sit in silence.

"Oh, really? Never left Texas, m'self," he said, with something that sounded like pride.

I smiled. It didn't feel right to talk about my past travels. All those European countries and luxury resorts in the Caribbean... Until now, I'd hardly seen any of the country I'd signed up to protect.

"There's still a way to go until Dallas," the man said after he'd finished his smoke. "You don't plan on drivin' like that, do ya?"

Instead of perking me up, the whiskey had only made me sleepier. I was almost passing out at the bar.

"It's either that, or sleep in the car," I said.

The man sighed, before continuing.

"I live upstairs. I got a couch you can crash on."

"I don't wanna inconvenience you," I replied.

"Ye'll inconvenience me more if you get yaself killed drivin' like that and then the police come askin' questions. C'mon."

Again, this wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Let me just get my stuff from my car," I said.

When I came back in with my bag, the man was waiting by an open door behind the bar. He nodded at one of the men playing pool, who nodded back. It was their silent agreement for the other man to watch the bar while we went upstairs.

I walked around the bar and followed the man upstairs. There, a small space was divided into a living room and kitchen area, with one other door leading to the bedroom.

"Bathroom's through there," the man pointed to the bedroom. "I'll leave the door open in case you need to go for a piss in the middle of the night."

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll just pass out," I said, dropping my bag on the couch, next to all the stuff that was already there.

"I'll be downstairs if ya need anything," the man said, and left.

I tried not to look around too much and be nosy. Still, from the look of the place, it was obvious the man lived alone and didn't really care about keeping it tidy. I carefully put all the stuff that was on the couch down on the floor, before taking my clothes off, getting down to my boxers.

I took my toothbrush out of my bag and headed to the bathroom. Stepping inside the bedroom, I saw it was even messier than the living room. Clothes, mostly used socks and underwear, were sprawled all over the floor. Empty cigarette packs, full ashtrays, and an old bottle of lube were on the nightstand.

I brushed my teeth quickly and went back to the couch. I looked around the room, hoping to see a blanket somewhere. It was warm enough to sleep without one, but I figured it's more polite to cover up if I go to sleep near naked, especially if I happen to pop a boner in the middle of the night in the loose boxers I was wearing.

Luckily, I found a small blanket on the floor. I took it with me to the couch, and like I'd predicted, I passed the fuck out immediately.

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(Part 2/2)

A few hours later, I was awoken by the noise of someone coming in. The room filled with the smell of whiskey and cigarettes as soon as its owner was in. He'd probably had a few more drinks before closing up.

"Ya alright?" he asked when he noticed me stirring.

"Yes, sir."

I realized I'd kicked the blanket off to the floor in my sleep. I lay in the dark and heard the sound of the man taking his shoes off and unbuckling his belt, somewhat surprised to hear him do this in the living room. Then again, it was his place after all.

He let his jeans and heavy belt drop loudly to the floor, and he walked to his room. His nightly routine, I'm sure. From the bathroom, I heard the sound of piss hit the toilet, with both doors open. He pissed like a racehorse for over a minute, before stumbling to his bed.

With my eyes still closed, my hearing was even shaper than usual. I heard the man light up, then take an inhale so deep that I could hear it to the other room. After that, a noisy cough, so loud I could hear the phlegm in his chest.

After it'd calmed down, the man reached for something on his nightstand. All of a sudden, my anxiety kicked in. What if it was a gun? Was I safe here? Was this stranger just trying to be helpful, or did he having something else in mind?

Whatever he had in mind didn't seem to do with me, however. The man remained in bed. A few seconds later I could start to make out what he was doing: jerking off.

It was no surprise whatsoever. A man living on his own, going to sleep alone after work. It was to be expected. My dick wasn't all soft either. I wondered if it'd been poking out of my underwear when the man walked in.

Listening to his lubed-up strokes, I started to get harder and harder. A few minutes later, the man lit up another cigarette, and went back to yanking his cock.

Without thinking about it too much, I got up. My feet walked toward the bedroom on their own. I didn't have a plan what I would say once I was there. I could always say I just needed to use the toilet.

I found my host exactly how I'd imagined him: sprawled out in bed, hairy legs wide open, and his hard cock pointing upwards, glistening with lube and precum.

"Ya alright, boy?" he asked casually, taking the cigarette out his mouth with one hand, while his other hand pumped up and down on his boner.

"Yes, sir."

I said nothing else.

Just like he'd done to the pool player earlier at the bar, the man nodded his head at me without saying anything. No words were necessary; I understood his invitation.

I slipped my fingers inside the waistband of my boxers, and pulled them down to the floor, before climbing in bed between the man's wide-open legs.

As I leaned forward, not even the cigarette smoke could cover up the smell of the man's crotch. It reminded me of the only time I'd felt a smell like that: in the military, whenever we had to go for days without a proper shower sometimes.

The man reached for a raggedy towel, that was obviously his well-used cum rag. He used it to wipe the lube off his dick, as I licked my lips, waiting to wrap them around in.

I didn't have to wait long. Pretty soon, my lips were sliding down his shaft, and his cockhead went from hitting the roof of my mouth to hitting the back of my throat.

"Mmmf," I choked on the man's cock. Now that my nose was buried in his bush, the smell was almost overwhelming.

"Aha," he grunted, putting one hand on the back of my head and starting to fuck my throat.

I had no idea if this person was into men or not. Maybe to him I was just an eager mouth to unload in. Either way, it was fine by me. I let my jaw relax, as I started to stroke my own dick while letting the stranger face-fuck me.

"Yeah... yeah," he grunted more and more aggressively, putting both hands on the back of my head and fucking me faster and faster, until I was gagging and drooling all over. Then, he finally slowed down.

I thought he'd done it to spare my throat. Turns out, he was almost done with his cigarette. He reached for another one off the nightstand, and lit it with the tip of his previous one. I continued to suck his cock and jerk both of us off while he chain smoked. After a few minutes of me working on the head of his dick, he was ready to go in deep again.

In a second, his dick was hitting my throat again; his hands on the back of my head. I gagged, but started to get used to it. Flashbacks of the first time I sucked a man's cock flashed through my mind. In the military, my first week. Initiation.

My throat completely relaxed, instead of pain, I felt pleasure now. I started to stroke my dick faster. The man fucked my face harder and harder as well. A few minutes later, just as I was running out of breath, his rapid pumping told me he was about to shoot.

"Yeah. Fuck, man. Shit. Yes!!" the man grunted, as his warm cum started to coat the back of my throat. Sliding down, I took all of it, obediently swallowing all his jizz.

Quickly multitasking, I reached for the man's cum rag and laid it under my dick, just as I started to shoot my load all over it. I felt like moaning out loud but I couldn't, prevented by the musky cock in my mouth, and the sperm that was currently gliding down my throat.

A couple of minutes later, when we were both done, I got up and picked up my boxers off the floor. Heading back to the couch, neither of us said another word. I was up before sunrise, sneaking out to hit the road.

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PhoenixStories

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Nice short one. Loved it. More travel stories? Where the next stop going to be?

Thank you, glad you liked it. This is going to be a limited series with 6 chapters. It takes place in the same universe as all my other stories. I tried writing it like a mystery series; the narrator will be revealed at the end. If you're familiar with my other work you might be able to guess who it is – there'll be hints in every chapter!

Enjoy,
Phoenix
 

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Chapter 2: "… Oklahoma"

The storm started just as I crossed the state border; almost down to the minute. I wondered if it's some sort of sign.

After a couple of days spent in Dallas, I was back on the road again. "Discover Excellence," said all the welcoming roadsigns as I drove into Oklahoma. For now, all I wanted to discover was a dry room to crash in. I'd only been on the road for a couple of hours, but the pouring rain made me decide to stop at the nearest motel and call it a day.

I looked at my phone. The latest generation smartphone and I only had one app on it: a map to consult as I drove through the country. The closest motel was nearby.

Once there, I was greeted by a friendly, middle-aged woman sitting at the desk. Behind her, a young man who looked to be her son sat scrolling through his phone.

"My, what crazy weather out there. How may I help you today?" she offered.

"A room until morning, please. Single, double, whatever you have."

My curtly tone let the lady know I wasn't in the mood for chitchat. She respected that, and didn't ask any unnecessary questions from there on out.

"Will that be by card?" she reached for the card reader.

"Cash, please."

"Alright. And I'll just need your name to put down on the list."

A basic question that felt invasive.

"James Smith," I said.

"Alright," the women jotted it down and accepted my cash, before turning back. "LeRoy! Get up and offer to show Mr. Smith to his room."

"No, that's fine," I insisted. "I'm sure I can find it. No need."

The boy sat back down on the chair he'd started to rise from. I took the key and walked out. There were only about a dozen or so rooms and I found mine easily.

I shut the door, dropped my bag, and exhaled. Now that I was indoors, the rain sounded quite nice. Soothing.

I wasn't alone for long, though. I'd barely had the time to take a piss, when there was a knock on the door. I answered it to see LeRoy standing outside.

"The ice machine's broken," I heard the boy speak for the first time. "Ma wanted me to bring you a bucket of ice, case you need it."

"Thank you," I said, accepting the bucket. The interaction was done, but LeRoy made no move to leave. Instead, he stood there, looking me straight in the eyes. He was years younger than me but the same height, maybe even an inch or two taller than I was.

"Wanna come in?" I offered.

"Sure," he said casually, and stepped in.

"So, you work here as well?" I asked the obvious.

"Yes, sir. My whole life."

"Family business, huh?" I sat on the bed, as LeRoy remained standing.

"Yup. My daddy started it before he passed. Now it's just Ma and me."

"Sorry to hear that. How did he die?"

"Iraq," he said, trying to show as little emotion as possible. "I was gonna join, but Ma wouldn't let me after that."

"She did the right thing," I said, avoiding eye contact. "So, what's it like working round here?"

"Boring. Quiet. Not many people passing by. Mostly truckers. But some of them are… fun."

I eyed the boy suspiciously.

"Ever think about leaving?"

I was usually much more discreet instead of being invasive like this. But there was something about the boy that gave me the impression he needed someone to talk to. If I had to guess I'd say he was 19; the prime age for kids to leave their hometowns.

"Nah. It's got its downsides, but I like it here. It's home," he said. "What about you?" he asked after a while. "Where's home for you?"

"Nowhere, really," I answered truthfully.

"Bet you're from one of those big coastal cities," he smiled.

"That's… half-right," I shook my head.

"You're mysterious, huh?" the boy took a step closer to me, and then another one.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well for starters, your name ain't James Smith."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I smirked, knowing fully well we could both see past the façade.

"That's a fake name if I've ever heard one. Besides," the boy took one final step forward, until he was just a foot away from me. He bent down and whispered, "your shirt's monogrammed, NH."

I looked down at my chest pocket, laughed, and ignored the comment.

"So, you're really sticking around here?" I changed the topic. I rested my arms on the bed and leaned backward. "Doesn't seem like the easiest place to be black. And gay," I added.

"That's all of America," the boy laughed, confirming my suspicions that he was indeed into men.

I leaned back further on the bed, as the boy stepped forward. There were no more words; our bodies were saying enough. One more step and he was kneeling on top of the bed, straddling me and sitting in my lap.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Old enough to not get you into trouble."

He started unbuttoning my shirt, slowly stroking my chest hair.

"You're hot," he whispered to me.

"I'm alright," I talked myself down. I was in good shape in the military, but my diet of constant junk food and booze since I came back had added some fat on top of the muscle.

"You're hot," he repeated, putting one hand on the side of my neck and stroking me there.

"And you're fucking adorable," I said, and finally leaned forward to give the boy a kiss. I put my arms around him, making sure he doesn't fall back as we kissed passionately. LeRoy wrapped his arms around me as well, before bringing his hands up and running them all through my hair.

We kissed, and without much ado, he put one hand on my bulge, feeling it grow.

Smoothly, as if he'd practiced it, he managed to pull down the sweatpants he was wearing, until his ass was bare. My hands slid down from his back to his asscheeks.

My growing boner started to feel painful, pressed down by my tight jeans and my belt buckle. Luckily, LeRoy didn't wait long before unbuckling my belt and unbuttoning my pants, releasing my cut cock, which by now was hard as a rock.

Looking at me dead in the eye, LeRoy spit in his hand and brought it down to my lap. He rubbed his fingers against the head of my cock first, getting some of my precum on them, before continuing to stroke the shaft, squeezing it tightly.

Breathing through our mouths, we could both feel our breath on each other's faces. We continued to kiss; this time LeRoy being the one initiating it. His tongue roamed in my mouth, while his fingers jerked my dick.

Slowly, the boy started to crawl forward. He pulled my boner under his sweats, until it was touching his bare ass, smoother than anyone else's ass I'd ever felt.

Next, he spit in his hand again, this time guiding it to his hole. After lubing it up, he took my left hand with his right and guided it to his asshole, making me massage it and showing me how eager it is for me to go in.

I didn't wait much further. I looked him in the eyes and he nodded. I took my dick and pressed the head of it right against the boy's asshole. His hole opened wider. We started kissing again. My cockhead was in. As he moved to sit on my dick, inch by inch I was all in, as we kept kissing all throughout.

"Fuck!" I moaned, finally feeling the boy's asscheeks all the way down to my balls. My now, he was just as hard as I was; his boner rubbing between our two bellies.

From this position, I couldn't do much; it was like the boy was fucking me. Or rather, fucking himself on my dick. I sat still, pointing up, while he bounced up and down on my dick like a seasoned pro.

"Fuck yeah," I encouraged him. Not that he needed much encouraging. He was doing an excellent job.

I'd never had a fuck quite like this. This was the youngest guy I'd ever had sex with, and he was better skilled at it than everyone before him. I clutched his ass as it went up and down on my cock like a spring.

"Give it a smack," he told me.

I indulged him, and slapped one of his asscheeks.

"Harder!"

SMACK!

He wanted harder? He'd get harder.

Now that I knew what this boy could handle, I went harder and stronger on him. Using all the strength in my thighs, I started to lift my hips off the bed and fucking him even deeper.

"Mmm, yeah!" he moaned with his eyes shut, making me feel proud for doing a good job.

He continued to bounce on my dick, proving just how much stamina he had in his legs.

"Can I cum inside you?" I asked after a few minutes of intense fucking in this position.

"Fuck yeah," he moaned, wrapping his fingers around my neck, making me wonder who was in control here.

Like a toy with fresh batteries, he started to bounce on my dick harder than ever! Wild with pleasure, I felt the tip of my dick hit his spot, making both of us scream out loud.

"Fuck!" "Oh, hell." "Yeah!" echoed around the motel room. I hope the walls were thick enough to conceal the noise from the neighboring rooms, but somehow I doubted it.

"Here it comes," I said, a second before I felt my load splashing out. I curled my toes in the boots I hadn't even taken off since entering the room. I gave one final, loud shout as I filled the boy's insides with my jizz, emptying my balls in his gut.

"Fuck yeah," he moaned, his big cock unloading all over my hairy chest.

When we were done, he ran his fingertips through my chest hair again, just like he was done earlier. He scooped his own cum and lifted his hand up to my face, offering it to me. I opened my lips, and let him feed me every drop.

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Chapter 3: "…the Stable" (Part 1/2)
"Buckle up for Safety," all the Welcome to Arkansas signs said as I drove past them. I'm buckled up, alright; not that that made me feel much safer. My eyes were closing on their own again.

"Symptoms may include heightened anxiety or depression, often accompanied by fatigue or lethargy," the doc had said. "You might feel restlessness and insomnia when you're in bed, only to find yourself tired the rest of the time."

I didn't pay much attention to him at the time. It was hard to take him seriously: right before I left, the only type of anxious I felt was anxious to be back home. I was certain that as soon as I got off the plane and stepped foot on American soil everything would be alright.

Here I was, back on the road, driving through another state I'd never been to before in the middle of the night. I'd been sleeping all morning and early afternoon lately. When renting a room, I'd always book an extra day, just so I could stay and sleep in past noon.

Except for the occasional road sign, there was not much to see in the rural nothingness. I made up images in my mind; people and buildings all around me, to keep me awake. Until it started to backfire. The planes came as well. The buildings were blown up. The people dead.

Just then, I noticed something on the road in front of me, illuminated by the headlights of my car as if they were a strobe light. I stirred awake. This wasn't just my imagination! I hit the brakes as fast as I could, getting the car to stop at the very last second.

In front of it, looking unfazed, was a steed. Saddleless, at first I thought he might be a wild horse. When I got out the car and examined him more closely, I noticed he was too well-groomed to be wild.

"You're a Thoroughbred," I told the bay horse out loud. "Quite a valuable one at that. Now, where's your owner?"

Carefully, I took one slow step after the other toward the stallion. I seemed to be more nervous than he was. He eyed me shrewdly, as if judging me for being so slow. I relaxed, and stepped right up to him.

"Go ahead, you know you want to," the horse said with a head nod, beckoning me to pet him.

"You have someone who takes real good care of you," I said, running my hands through his smooth hair. "That makes one of us."

"Buck!! Now what've you gotten yaself into?!" a man's voice bellowed from the side of the road.

"Ya look like ya wearin' a Halloween costume," the Texan bartender's words rang through my head. "It ain't about what ya wear, it's about how ya wear it. That stuff looks like it's never been worn before."

Indeed, the stranger that now approached me looked like a real cowboy. We may be wearing the same things, but he did so with an air of authenticity I'd never have.

"I see ya've met Buck," the man said. As soon as his owner appeared, Buck lost interest in me and turned to him.

"Does he patrol the streets every night?" I tried to crack a joke.

The man didn't laugh, but he didn't seem to disapprove of me either. He petted his horse, his eyes darting back and forth between Buck and me.

"We was just out for a ride," he said. "I got off for a little bit and he got away from me. Weird. He ain't never done somethin' like this."

"What were you doing?" I asked, regretting it the second the words left my mouth. I didn't mean to pry.

"Wouldn't ya like to know," the man said. Instinctively, my eyes shot down to his bulge. It filled up his jeans as if he'd stuffed them with something. "I was just… enjoyin' myself. It's a nice evening."

"Yeah, it is," I agreed, looking up at the sky. Finally, I'd gotten away from the storm.

"The house ain't far from here. Why don't you come over for a while?" the man said, still petting Buck.

"I ought to get going…" I mumbled.

"C'mon now, I insist. For findin' Buck. Besides, it's my birthday. You can't possibly say no to me."

For the first time since he'd appeared, the man smiled. "Oh, I definitely can't say no to you," I thought, "and it has nothing to do with the fact it's your birthday."

"What about the car?" I turned to point at it.

"Just lock it up and leave it here. Ain't nothin' gon happen to it."

I did as he said. When I turned back to him, the man had already mounted Buck and was waiting on me to join him.

"Ever ridden a horse before?" he offered me his hand, like I were a damsel in a western movie.

"I have, plenty of times. But never without a saddle and a bridle."

"Well, we'll pop your cherry tonight. Hop on."

Apprehensively, I accepted his hand and climbed on Buck's back, with the man sitting behind me.

"Now, first thing, you wanna make sure your balls are as comfortable as possible," he said. I felt him reach down behind me to adjust his bulge. The way he said it wasn't even sexual in the slightest; maybe that's exactly why I found it so hot.

I tried adjusting my package. There was no way this wasn't gonna hurt – it already did, with the semi I was growing. And feeling the stranger's breath on the back of my neck wasn't helping it go down.

"Now, find your balance, and just imagine the reigns are there," he continued, leaning in and putting his arms around me, pulling on imaginary reigns. "They should bottle this man's scent and sell it in department stores,"I thought, as I tried to breathe in as much of his musk as possible.

"C'mon, Buck. Take it easy for our guest here."

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(Part 2/2)

"So, how old are you?" I asked the birthday boy a while later, after we'd both gotten into the groove of riding on Buck.

"24, as of today."

"Huh," I said. I'd thought he was older. "Same age as me."

"Well, would you look at us, havin' all these things in common. Now, d'ya also happen to like bourbon?"

"I'll take a swig or two when we get to the house."

"No need to wait till we're in the house," the man said, pointing to an open stable with its lights on right in front of us.

A couple of minutes later we were inside the stable. The man elegantly slid off Buck. Since I enjoyed my connection with the animal I remained on its back, as the stranger walked to a bale of hay that was being used as a table, and retrieved a giant bottle of bourbon. While waiting, I looked around the stable at the couple of other horses that were in there.

"These all yours?" I asked my host.

"Yes, indeed."

"And why aren't you having a party tonight?" I continued being nosy.

"Who says I'm not?" he turned to me and started walking. "I'm here. You're here. Buck's here. We got drinks," he raised the bottle toward me, and I helped myself to a swig.

"Happy birthday," I said.

The man smiled, and accepted the bottle back so we could have a drink next.

We drank like that, back and forth, like two teenagers hiding from their parents.

"This is good bourbon," I said, checking the Made in Tennessee label. I tried passing the bottle back down to the cowboy, but instead of taking it he mounted Buck again, sitting back behind me.

"If you're not gon get off, I might as well get on," he said softly in my ear, taking the bottle from me with his fingers grazing the back of my hand.

Once again, I felt a stir in the front of my jeans. I reached down to adjust myself and scooted a few inches on the horse's back.

"You comfortable?" the man asked. I couldn't tell if his voice sounded smoother because he was trying to make it sound that way, or because of the bourbon I'd had.

"Kinda."

"That's a nice belt buckle," he suddenly put his right arm around me and caressed my belt, "but you'd be more comfortable without it."

He handed me the bottle to hold, while he used both his hands to unbuckle my belt. From there, he used two fingers and one swift movement to make all buttons on my jeans pop open in a quick sequence.

"That's more like it," he said, as I sighed with relief. His hand slipped inside my pants and his teeth gently bit my earlobe.

I threw the bottle I was holding onto a stack of hay, and used my empty hands to reach back and return the favor, unbuckling the man's pants and reaching inside.

"Going commando? In jeans, on horseback? You must have balls of steel," I said.

"They could use some TLC," he continued to whisper in my ear, as I started to massage his ball sack behind my back.

As I did so, I could feel his cock start to grow. I never turned back to look at it, savoring the mystery. I did plenty of examining with my fingers, though, feeling the smooth, hard shaft and its circumcised tip, leaking droplets of precum.

Hugging me, the cowboy unbuttoned my shirt next, biding his time, as I turned my head to the side and tried to take in his musk. Next, he hooked his fingers into the back of my jeans and pulled them down.

"Ha!" he said when he saw the waistband of my underwear. "You're one to talk 'bout me going commando, when you got this on."

He pulled the waistband of the white jockstrap I had on, and then released it, making it snap against my lower back.

The stranger's hands wondered to my neck next. He wrapped his fingers around it and gave it a squeeze, chocking me for a quick second before releasing; then pushing my whole body forward until my belly was touching Buck's back.

Without saying a word, only breathing deeply, he pulled the back of my jeans even lower, until I felt the crisp evening air on my asscheeks. While stroking my ass with his left hand, I heard him spit loudly onto his right.

"Mmm," I moaned out as I felt the man's fingers go between my sweaty cheeks. My moaning was drown out by a loud neigh from Buck at that same precise moment.

Finding our balance without a saddle and a reign wasn't easy. Luckily, my host seemed to be an experienced rider. As I lay down on my stomach, I felt the man's right hand press down on me. He used the pressure to balance himself and scoot forward, all the while massaging my hole with his wet fingers.

I started to moan out so loudly, that not even Buck's neighs were drowning it out anymore. The man's strong, callused fingers went inside my hole. It felt painful, yet good. I stuck my ass up as much as possible, begging for more.

Before long, his fingers, wet with his saliva, were replaced by his dick, wet with precum.

The man scooted forward again, and I felt his dick slide quickly inside my hole. I squirmed, pulling Buck's hair and making him jolt.

"Shhh. Good boy," the man said. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or Buck.

Here, in the middle of nowhere, I had no way of knowing how often this man got laid. What I knew for certain, though, was: he fucked like a pro.

"Fuck!" I screamed. There was no going slow anymore. This man loved riding bareback and now, I was the one he was riding. My cock hard, my eyes closed, I clenched my fists as the cowboy started pumping fast back and forth inside my ass, filling my hole and making me yell out. Not that there was anyone but him to hear me.

"Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck!" I continued, as the man grunted and pushed down on me. I'd never felt anything like this before! Trying to maintain balance was difficult, and made this whole thing riskier, yet so much more exciting. The cowboy continued to fuck my ass mercilessly, confident in his skills.

"I'm gonna fucking cum inside you," he announced after a while. A mere second later, I felt him start to coat the inside of my hole with his warm load.

"Fuck yeah, man! Fuck yeah," I moaned, feeling higher than ever, making my hole pulse and soaking in the man's cum while shooting my own.

"You done? Now get off me," Buck said with another head nod as we'd started to calm down.

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Chapter 4: "Tennessee"

So far, Nashville was proving to be the best stop of this trip so far. I looked around the busy diner I was at. So different from where I grew up, yet so similar. All the smiling, loud families reminded me of home… that is, before everything home turned to shit.

As usual, I was an observer rather than a participant in all the hullabaloo. I sat at the bar and ate my burger and fries, keeping to myself. The few other people sitting at the bar were all on their phones. I preferred to people-watch instead, so I spent time looking at the diners in their booths.

One man in particular caught my eye, a father of two, dining with his wife and kids. There was nothing particularly attractive about the man, he seemed fairly average, but that's precisely what attracted me to him. Maybe because he reminded me of my own father when I was little. Or maybe he reminded me of all my buddies at the military; men of all sizes and ethnicities, each of them possessing something beautiful about himself.

When the man caught me looking, I averted my eyes quickly. I didn't want him to think I was some sort of creep. Indeed, when I saw him get up and walk my way, I panicked for a bit.

"Can we get the check for that table? I can't see the waitress nowhere," I was relieved to hear him say to the bartender.

The man and I made eye contact again, this time much closer.

"How ya doing?" he said politely.

"Very well, sir," I smiled. "You from around?"

"Yes indeed," he nodded, turning to face me. Now able to see his whole body, I wondered what it looked like under those clothes.

"D'you know of any good bars around here?" I asked. "I was looking to head somewhere after dinner."

The man smiled, and without saying anything, helped himself to a piece of paper and a pen that were at the bar.

"Best joint around," he said, slapping the note on the bar in front of me. He then turned around and walked back to his table, as I tried to discreetly get a look of his ass in the tight jeans he had on.

An hour later, I was at the bar the man'd recommended. A country bar that I'm sure was typical for this place; it was just popular enough to be busy, but not too popular as to be swarming with tourists. Well… except for me, I guess.

I ordered the same kind bourbon the Arkansas cowboy has shared with me, and drank by myself at the bar. I was fully aware I probably wouldn't get any ass around here. I'd been lucky so far to get laid a few times on this trip. Not that that was my goal. I had no fucking clue what my goal was, really.

Just as the bourbon started to hit, a familiar face walked my way.

"You took my advice," the daddy from the diner said, taking me by surprise. I looked around. This time, he seemed to be on his own.

"I'll have the same. And another one for him," he told the bartender, who served him immediately. He must be a regular round here.

"Yeah, thanks for the tip," I said, accepting the drink and clinking glasses with the stranger. "Seems like a nice place."

"Just visiting?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered. Before he had a chance to ask too many questions, I asked him one instead. "So tell me about this place. You've lived here long?"

"All my life and five generations back," the man humored me, and started giving me the story of his family in Nashville.

He was a chatty man, a few years older than me. Or maybe he talked so much because he just needed another man to chat with, take a break from his wife and kids. He talked, and I listened, and we took turns ordering shots of bourbon.

"Fuck. I won't be able to drive back like this," he said. "I didn't plan to stay this long."

I looked down and realized we'd been drinking for three hours.

"I'm renting a room nearby. You're welcome to… come sober up for a while, if that helps."

I knew it was a long shot. I wasn't even sure if I was just saying it to be polite, or if I wanted the man to take me up on it. But what if he did? Not like anything would happen, right?

"That might be a good idea. Half an hour and a few glasses of water and I oughta be fine," he said.

We finished our drinks and headed out. The city was loud, jovial. The stranger and I joined in, joking and laughing loudly as we walked.

When we got to my room, the man sat down on the bed immediately. I went to get him a glass of water. He accepted it and drank it bottoms up, handing me the empty glass, looking up at me as I stood in front of him.

"Want some more?"

"I'm good, thank you," he said softly, slowly wiping his lips, then licking them, all throughout maintaining eye contact with me.

I stood there immobilized. I didn't want to make a mistake. I'd seen the man's family myself. He'd talked about them at the bar. There was nothing indicating he was into men. Nothing… except for the way we looked into each other's eyes right now, each of us daring and begging the other person to make the first move.

I lifted my free hand and with the back of my fingers gently caressed the man's hairy cheek.

"Do you kiss men?" he asked me, somewhat awkwardly.

I answered by leaning down and putting my lips on his. Two seconds later and our tongues were in each other's mouths, roaming and exchanging saliva; my hand on the back of the man's head pulling him in closer; his hands on my ass, squeezing my cheeks.

I dropped the glass I was holding and climbed up on the bed, pressing the stranger down, all the while kissing him. The taste in our mouths was identical, that of bourbon and passion.

We started to take each other's clothes off. While unbuttoning my shirt, I noticed the man's hands shake, so I stopped him and took them in mine.

"Shh. It's okay. Do you wanna continue?" I whispered.

"Yes," the man nodded and licked his lips again. I leaned down and kissed him, even more passionately than we had before. Two minutes later, we were both down to our underwear and socks.

I let the man pull down my boxer briefs first. Excited to see what I was packing, he took my dick in his mouth and started sucking me off. I could tell he hadn't had many (if any!) dicks in his mouth. The teeth were a definitely turnoff, but the man's eagerness was making up for it.

I pulled down his boxer shorts next. "Fuck, that's huge!" I said out loud, and it wasn't because I was trying to flatter him. His bush was unkempt and his balls hairy, but his huge, cut dick stood out in the middle of it all.

I took him in my mouth and gave him a proper good blowjob, as he kicked back and moaned in pleasure. During this time, my hands and fingers played with his balls, his taint, and his asscheeks, slowly moving to the man's asshole.

"Ahh! MMM!" he exclaimed when I finally got to the his hole. This was clearly the part he wanted pleased most.

I sucked him off for a few more minutes before scooting to get closer to him. By this point, both of us had nothing but our socks on, his legs up in the air.

"I'm… not sure if I'm completely clean," the man said apologetically as I started to press my dick against his hole. He obviously hadn't planned on this.

"That's okay," I said, hoping to reassure him and looking him straight in the eyes again as I started to go inside him. "I'll take it slow."

The man reached for my hands and intertwined his fingers with mine. Maintaining eye contact all throughout, it felt way more romantic than we had the right to be under the circumstance.

Little by little, inch by inch, I moved inside the man's asshole, assuring him everything will be alright. Finally, he started to relax. I could tell the exact second when my dick hit the spot! The man's eye rolled to the back of his head and his hole relaxed, finally allowing me to pick up the pace.

Letting go of the man's hands and grabbing him by his ankles, I started fucking him as he moaned and shouted in pleasure. Even without touching it, his cock remained hard all throughout. I could tell this is exactly what he needed. What he got so little of.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" he said five short minutes later.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes, please, man," he begged.

I picked up the speed and continued to ride the man as he shouted, finally starting to shoot his load, reaching an anal orgasm handsfree. Judging by his reaction and the noise he was making, this might just be the first time he'd cum like this ever.

I gripped his ankles tighter and fucked every last drop of cum out of him. Turned on by his orgasm, I got more excited as well and it wasn't long before I was on the edge myself.

"Fuck, I'm close. Can I cum inside you?" I panted.

"Go for it, man," he shouted, his eyes closed, still shooting his load.

I continued to thrust until my balls unloaded, spurting out all my cum inside the married man's guts.

—​

"Can you smoke here?"

"I don't think so, but I don't mind," I replied.

Five minutes after we'd both cum, we lay on the bed naked side-by-side. The man reached down for his jeans and lit up a cigarette. Instead of offering me one, he took a drag, and offered the same cigarette to me.

"No, thanks," I shook my head.

"So, if ya don't mind me asking," he said after a few more drags, his voice going back to normal now, "are you gay?"

"Umm. Yes. I am gay."

What he didn't know, was that this was the first time I'd admitted it out loud.

"You?"

He took another long drag, ignoring my question.

"No. Yes. Maybe. I dunno. All I know is I love my family."

I didn't say anything. It didn't feel like my place to interfere.

"Ya think I'm and asshole for doing this?" he asked.

Suddenly, I reached for his cigarette impulsively, took it from between his fingers and took a drag.

"It's not my place to judge. But still. I mean, I don't have any STDs or anything, but you don't know that. You're putting your wife at risk."

I gave him his cigarette back, and waited for his reply.

"It ain't that easy. It's 2020 but it still ain't that easy. Not with my family."

"Ha! Mine neither, man."

The man looked at me again and leaned toward me. We started to kiss again. The taste in our mouths was identical, that of cigarettes, bourbon, and passion.

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Chapter 5: "…Ohio" (Part 1/2)

Preceded by: My Son's Boyfriend is My Age, Chapter 5: "Howdy Partner"

The farther north I drove, the more restless I got. With no destination and no plan where to stay next, I spontaneously pulled over in Columbus.

The responsible thing to do first would be to find a hotel, I knew that. But as I drove past a busy bar, I was attracted to go in for a drink. With the large crowd both inside and out on the sidewalk, it seemed bustling, yet unpretentious. Just my kinda place.

I ordered a drink at the bar and went back outside. It was a lovely evening; the air was crisp, yet warm enough to enjoy. The only thing tainting it was the smell of someone smoking pot nearby, but it didn't bother me too much.

A few minutes of standing alone among the busy strangers, I realized the crowd was pretty mixed and around half the patrons seemed to be gay. Suddenly, someone approached me. A boy, a couple of years younger than me.

"Howdy, partner," he sad with a bad fake Southern accent. "You visitin' from Down South?"

I looked down at the cowboy boots I had on, and the large, shiny belt buckle I'd inherited from my friend Bubba.

"No. I just like to cosplay," I replied.

The boy laughed, gently slapping my chest with his hand as he did so. As he leaned forward, I could smell on his breath that he was one of the people smoking pot nearby a minute ago.

"I'm Eli," he offered me his hand.

I introduced myself and shook his hand. He was cute. Maybe a tad too drunk, but I soon learned it was his birthday so he had every right to celebrate.

"Where are you staying?" the boy asked when I told him I'd just arrived to the city and that it was my first time here. The way he said it made me think he wouldn't mind coming over to my hotel and getting his ass fucked. I looked down discreetly: it was quite a nice ass.

A few minutes later, the person he was here with joined us, and I was surprised to hear it was Eli's dad. Apparently, Eli grew up around here but now lived in Chicago. He was here visiting with his dad Isaac for his birthday.

Isaac was a handsome man; in a different way than his cute son. Maybe it was his kind eyes that made him attractive more than anything. While Eli made me want to get on top and fuck the hell out of him; his dad made me want to go down on my knees and take his daddy dick in my mouth.

I continued to chat with the two. Isaac and I took turns getting everyone drinks. Eli came up with some more weed and shared it with everyone. I had't smoked since… since when Bubba was alive. Quickly, I chased the thoughts away from my head.

"You know, Dad, our new friend here just got to Columbus and has no place to stay. D'you think he can crash on your couch?" Eli asked his father, flirtily putting his arm around him.

Isaac and I made eye contact for a second, before smiling at each other and looking away, as Isaac said "yes."

Unfortunately, on the ride home it became evident I wouldn't be fucking the birthday boy tonight. Eli had had one too many and started rambling incohesively, mentioning someone named Greg more than once. When we got to the house, Isaac and I carried his son up to his childhood bedroom and laid him on the bed. I watched as Isaac carefully took off his son's clothes down to his colorful briefs, before tucking him in and planting a kiss on his forehead. A pang of jealously hit me as I witnessed that tender father-son moment, making me feel like I'd just swallowed a golf ball.

"I'm just gonna grab you a pillow and a blanket," Isaac said softly to me as we left his son's room.

"Thank you. And thanks for letting me stay here," I replied.

I went down to the living room and waited, looking around without trying to be nosy. This house looked nothing like the lavish house I'd grown up in, yet it felt so familiar. It was as if someone had tried to recreate a set of "the quintessential average American home."

As much as I loved the boots I had on, I could only go for so many hours wearing them. I took them off, then instinctively continued to take off the rest of my clothes until I was down to my boxer briefs. A few seconds later, someone behind me cleared his throat.

"Here you go," Isaac said and handed me a pillow and a blanket, that I put down on the armchair.

"Thank you."

"Can I get you some water?" he asked gently. For a second, I wondered what it would be like if my own father talked to me like this.

"That would be great, thanks."

I sat on the couch and waited until Isaac had returned with two glasses of water. He sat down next to me on my left, and an awkward moment of silence followed.

"Eli seems like a great guy," I said. It was obvious how much Isaac cared for him; besides, I'm sure every parent liked hearing that about their child.

"Yes, he is," Isaac agreed. "He seemed to really be into you, at the bar. I thought he was inviting you over to spend the night in his room."

He let out a short laugh. So not only did he know his son was gay, he approved of Eli and I fucking under his roof the night we'd met.

"He did," I said. "I just… don't really feel comfortable sleeping with someone so drunk."

"That's… thoughtful of you," Isaac said after a second, and patted my leg with his right hand. Even though I was down to my underwear, this didn't feel sexual as much as it felt… paternal. There that golf ball was back in my throat.

I could sit like this all night, feeling his hand on my bare skin. Yet, I worried that would make things awkward, and I didn't want Isaac to pull away. Quickly, I tried to think of something else to say.

"Don't get me wrong, Eli's great. Any other night…" I mumbled, than stopped. I didn't want to be inappropriate, talking like this about Isaac's son in front of him.

Luckily, his hand didn't move off my leg. Instead, it slowly started to slide upwards. With every second, it got more sexual. This moment of "is it or isn't it?" made my dick stir in my underwear, starting to get hard. A few seconds later (and a few inches higher) and we'd made the leap to "it definitely is."

Isaac's fingertips had reached my thigh. As they crept on up, I started to feel tingles in my inner thighs and on my ball sack. My dick continued to pulse, a full-blown boner by now.

Quickly, I moved down, knelt on the floor in front of Isaac, and placed my hands on his knees.

"Go ahead, boy," he said. Precisely the words I was hoping to hear.

Eagerly, I unbuttoned his pants and swallowed. The gold ball had finally slid down my throat. When I saw Isaac's cut daddy dick, all I wanted in my throat was it.

Still soft, I started to stroke his cock and play with his balls. I felt happy as Isaac's dick started to grow. Slowly, I leaned down and planted a kiss on the tip of it, before taking it all in my mouth.

"Ahhh!" I heard Isaac exhale as I sucked him. His body relaxed and he kicked back, leaning back on the couch and letting me service him. I was very happy to do just that. Isaac's fingers found their way to the back of my head, scratching it gently and running through my hair, making me feel like an obedient puppy dog.

For about ten minutes, Isaac continued to moan out loud and relax as I got even more into the blowjob. Then, just as we completely lost ourselves in the moment, a creak of the floorboards let us know we weren't alone.

With Isaac's hand on the back of my head, I couldn't turn around. Suddenly, he tensed up, holding me even more firmly in place.

"Go ahead. Don't let me stop you," a voice behind me said.

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(Part 2/2)

As soon as I heard the words, I realized Isaac's son was standing in the doorway, watching us. I had no idea how long Eli had been standing there, but whatever he'd seen didn't seem to upset him.

Slowly and gradually, I felt Isaac's body start to relax again. With my face buried in his crotch, I couldn't tell what was going on between him and Eli. Just like most any other father and son, I'm sure this had never happened to them before.

Yet, Isaac decided to let it continue. His hand went from gripping my hair to gently caressing it again. His thighs relaxed and opened up further. His body leaned back again. And his dick in my mouth was harder than it'd ever been!

My right hand started to play with Isaac's balls again, as his legs spread wider and wider. "Mmm," he started to let out moans of pleasure again. A few moments ago, I was worried I was being inappropriate by talking about his son in front of him. And now he I was, sucking Dad off in front of Eli!

My keen hearing came in handy, as I started to catch soft moans coming from behind my back as well. A smacking noise let me know Isaac's son was stroking his own cock as he was watching me perform my service.

Confused, yet turned on by what was going on, I kept going even harder, bopping my up and down all along the shaft of Isaac's dick, loudly slurping for everyone in the room to hear.

Isaac rubbed the back of my head even faster. "Fuck yeah, son," he suddenly said. I had no idea if this was aimed at me or Eli… or maybe, just maybe, both of us.

Turned on by Isaac's comment, I let go of his balls so I could pull out my own hard dick and start jerking off. Behind me, I heard footsteps nearing closer and closer, as Eli walked forward to get a better view.

With my chin pressed against Isaac's balls, I could feel them start to pulse stronger and stronger, almost ready to shoot out with cum. The cum that had made…

Eli was now standing right behind me, I could almost feel his breath down my bare back. I continued to suck Isaac's cock vehemently, until a loud grunt from him announced that he was over the edge.

"Fuck! FUCK!" he shouted, his voice echoing around the room. All at once, my mouth filled up with his warm cum as I continued sucking. I put my hand back on his balls, hoping to squeeze every last drop out of them. Isaac's daddy cum filled up my entire mouth and started sliding down my throat as I swallowed, swallowing every last drop of it.

Behind me, Eli had gone down on his knees as well, petting my back as if to say "job well done." I still wasn't done, and neither was Isaac, as his cum continued to fill my stomach while his son stroked my back.

As soon as I was certain I'd gotten every last drop out of him, I slowly started to rise up from from Isaac's crotch. Suddenly, I felt Eli's hands on the sides of my body. I was quite weak from the adrenaline rush, and I let Eli easily turn me around and lift me up.

I was now standing up as he kneeled in front of me, my boner bouncing right in his face. On the floor, I'd noticed Eli's colorful briefs lie abandoned. Soon, my own underwear was pulled down by Eli, and he quickly took my dick in his mouth.

I had no time to react, and didn't know how to either. On my left, Isaac sat on the couch just a few inches from us. Leaning back, he was obviously spent after his orgasm. He breathed heavily and sweat like he'd just run a marathon.

I could still feel the taste of Isaac's jizz down my throat and in my stomach, as his son made me shoot out my own load in his own eager mouth. I grunted, shook, almost passed out with how fast my heart was pacing. Noticing I might literally fall down, Isaac leaned forward and reached out his arm. I grasped it firmly and held on to it, as I shot every last drop of cum down his son's throat.

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Chapter 6: "… Niagara"

At first, the sound of the waterfalls was welcome, like white noise filling my head, helping me not think about anything for a few seconds. That is, until it started to sound violent; like bombs falling from the sky, like guns going off incessantly.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to shake it off. When I reopened them, I saw a couple had come to stand close to me. Two men in their 30s, and they couldn't look happier. They posed for selfies with the Niagara Falls sign behind them, until, suddenly, one of them turned to me.

"Excuse me, do you mind taking a photo of all of us?" he said, passing me his phone with his left hand. It was a sunny day, and I saw the sunlight reflect in the man's wedding ring.

I nodded mutely, as the man turned to his parents to beckon them forward. "¡Mamá, papá! ¡Vengan!"

He went to stand on the platform in front of the falls with the rest of his family, one arm around his dad and the other one around his husband. They all posed as I took a few photos and handed the man his phone back.

Standing around awkwardly afterward, I walked up to one of the binoculars nearby and put a quarter in it just so I'd have something to do. I looked across, at the other country on the other side.

A spontaneous urge came over me to get in the car and drive to Canada. I had my passport and enough cash with me. I could start a new life where nobody knows me!

Quickly, I got excited. This is it! This is the solution to all my problems. Everything would be perfect there, right? Right? Nothing would ever go wrong.

The bubble of excitement grew and grew inside me, until it finally burst. I remembered I had some distant family in Quebec; it's not like no one in Canada knew me. Not that it fucking mattered. Of course moving wouldn't solve all my problems. Maybe nothing ever will. Except…

For the next hour, I walked around the scenic falls and back to the parking lot. There, I bumped into the married man who'd handed me his phone. This time, he was all by himself.

"Hello there!" he greeted me when he recognized me, like an old acquaintance.

I smiled and nodded silently.

"Do you speak English?" the man asked, confused.

I realized I hadn't said a single word to him.

"Yes. Yes, I do," I chuckled.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" he said, looking up at the blue sky with his shades on. Just then, his phone rang. "Excuse me," he said to me before answering.

"Dr. Martinez," he said, and talked for a few seconds with whoever was on the phone before hanging back up.

"So, what kinda doctor are you?" I asked the first thing that came to mind. I wanted to keep the conversation with the handsome doc going.

"A psychotherapist," he answered politely.

"Funny. I was just thinking how I might... need to see one," I said openly.

"Well, if you're ever in Chicago..." the man reached for his pocket and pulled out an elegant black-and-white business card with the name Dr. Miguel Martinez on it, and handed it to me.

"Unfortunately, I'm headed the other way, " I said, pocketing the card. "I'm going east."

"Are you... okay?" the man asked kindly, taking a couple steps to get closer to me.

"I'm fine. Didn't mean to worry you. I'm not here to jump."

It was my attempt at a joke, but it only made the man look more concerned.

"My family's back to the hotel for a nap. I came out for a walk. Would you like to walk together?" the stranger offered.

"I'd love to," I nodded.

For a good while, the two of us walked by the Niagara River, away from the tourist crowds, getting lost in our conversation.

"So, what made you think you need therapy?" the man asked.

"I just got out of the military."

"Ah. That'll do it," he nodded.

"A buddy of mine died there," I said, gently touching my belt buckle.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. Even just saying it out loud to you right now kinda helps."

The man smiled, and we continued walking.

"Your family looks really nice," I said to him. "Your parents, and your husband, you… you look really happy together."

"Thank you," he gave a soft chuckle. "But don't jump to conclusions from the outside. You never know."

"Oh."

The walked a few more yards in silence.

"Vaughn and I… have been having some issues," it was the stranger's turn to confess now.

"I'm sorry," I said, stopping in my tracks.

"No need," the man said, stopping beside me and turning to look at me.

Without saying anything, we veered off the riverway and into a more secluded little spot.

Face to face, the man continued to inch closer. Suddenly, I regained my confidence. I no longer felt nervous or afraid. I looked him in the eyes, and watched him slowly get to his knees.

Next, he put his hands on my large belt buckle, exploring it and looking for a way to undo it. He finally got it and unbuckled my belt, before unbuttoning the fly of my jeans and reaching inside.

"It really is a lovely day," I thought, looking up at the sky, as I felt the man's wet lips around my semi-hard cock. Slowly, he stroked it with one hand and twirled his tongue around my mushroom head. A short while later, I was looking back down at my rock-hard boner now going inside the man's mouth.

"Fuck," I encouraged the cocksucker as I started fucking his mouth. He relaxed his neck and his throat, letting me put my hands on both sides of his head and start thrusting inside his mouth rapidly, almost violently.

"Don't jump from conclusions from the outside," he'd said to me, and he was right. When I saw him by the falls earlier I thought of the perfect marital bliss between him and hubby dearest; and how here he was, with his knees in the dirt, letting me use his mouth like a fuck hole.

"Umm. Mmm. Mppff," the doc chocked on my cock, starting to slobber all over himself. His saliva mixed with my precum leaked out of his mouth in long streaks, dripping down to his nice clothes.

I kicked my legs even closer to his face, creating a small cloud of dirt and dust. The man could barely breathe by now, but his puppy-dog eyes looking up at me let me know he was enjoying every second of this.

I kicked into overdrive. The man's hands gripped my ass through my jeans, holding on for steadiness, at the same time giving my cheeks a firm squeeze. I could tell how much he wanted my body in that moment, all of it. Including the ultimate prize I was about to give him.

My hands over his ears and temples, I squeezed his head even tighter, thrusting back and forth in it, hitting the back of his throat with my dick. He gagged and struggled, and I came closer and closer to the edge. In the distance, the waterfalls roared. I let out a grunt and I started cumming. The cocksucker's hands tight on my ass, I unloaded the biggest load I could ever remember getting out. A part of me wished my dick was out just so I could see exactly how much jizz I'd spurted out. In the man's mouth, I felt one rope of cum after the other after the other, flooding his throat like a waterfall as he barely managed to gulp it all down, shaking and moaning all throughout.

—​

This is it. Finally here.

I took a deep breath as I looked at the building from outside, trying to count the floors and windows, figure out which is the right apartment.

"Just fucking do it!" I egged myself on, determined to get over my nervousness.

I walked in, and was discouraged immediately when I noticed the building had a doorman. Shit! Would he let me in?

"Good afternoon," the elderly man greeted me politely. "Are you here to see someone?"

I gave him the name, hoping he wouldn't need to make a call first. Thankfully, he smiled at me and said I could go up.

Two minutes later I was upstairs… Knocking on the door…

"Hello," a man answered, wearing nothing but a pair of white, almost translucent briefs. I was taken aback to see him answer the door like this so casually, but I didn't forget my original mission.

"Hello, sir," I said formally. "Sorry to bother you. I am looking for David Hill."

The man looked shocked to hear that name come out of my mouth, but I could tell by his face I was at the right place.

"It's David Hillbecker now," he said after a brief moment. "That would be me."

"Hello, sir. My name is Nathanael Hill. I am your nephew.

The End

This story ties in with my other story My Boyfriend and My Two Dads: myboyfriendandmytwodads.com