Well before COVID-19, I took an epic road trip across the US. I'd finished my uni course, and I was looking for adventure. I often found myself in crazy situations, but this day I had one of the craziest. Driving across the border in to Texas, I had a long drive between New Orleans and Houston, and I was determined to take some detours, 'biggest Campbell's soup tin', that sort of thing. I also wanted to hit some cruising spots. I'd never had much luck back in Australia, and I had no idea if there would be anything in my desire to blow a long-haul trucker. I had researched and found a few spots a long the way, that had been recommended, so far Florida and Louisiana had been busts, and I usually just ended up pissing in a bunch of dirty urinals alone.
It was just starting to get warm, and I had swapped from jeans to shorts, and was thankful, as the sun hit me, the heat bouncing of the concrete of the service station. I was wearing my "Hi. You'll Do" shirt, hoping optimistically smirk and point to my shirt if there was any options. I saw a fair few trucks, and dared to be optimistic. A few overweight truckers were smoking unironically next to a no-smoking sign, one glanced at me, and I shivered. I'm not really sure why he glanced over, I reasoned that I no doubt looked out of place. I met his eyes and he looked away but my anticipation only rose. I walked on to the restrooms, as Americans called them. I told myself, I was here to down a trucker's load, I was going to make it happen today.
I was disappointed when I walked to the urinals, and noticed a single occupied stall. Americans had ridiculously large gaps in their stalls, perhaps anticipating that every one held the promise of a load taken or spent. This one wasn't as bad as the airport shitters that always fucked with my plans. I had no idea how I would make it work, but I had already figured that even if someone saw something, no one would care. I had a bit of ritual down pat at this point, if no one was in when I got in, I'd go to sink and splash water in my face, sometimes for an absurd amount of time. Eventually, someone would walk in, and if I liked the look I could saunter over and take a piss. Sometimes I used one of the stalls to kill a bit more time if they weren't what I was after. Today, I'd take what I could get. The man from the stall came out, adjusted him belt and bypassed the sink altogether. I smirked and shook my head but was secretly relieved. I stared back at the mirror as I noticed a man walk in behind me. I only caught his silhouette but he was more slight than the other men, still stocky, with a large tattoo creeping up his arm. The clunk of his steel toed boots shattered my reverie, and I tried to look less awkward. I threw the paper towels in the trash, and went over to get a closer look.
He had boot cut jeans that stretched across a large ass, seams almost splitting down his thighs, while tapering down. I never liked the cut much on me, but on him it worked. It was clear he was taller than me, and it helped even out his proportions. He was wearing a singlet, and I could see his tattoo clearer now, a mermaid with it's tail wrapped around what looked like an anchor. I wondered if he was a popeye fan. Peopled pissed quickly, so you didn't have long time to judge whether this was the shot to take. I walked and flopped out my cock, a little too closer than urinal etiquette demanded. I tried for an awkward nod, and he seemed to acknowledge my presence. I peered across and caught a flash of his cock head, thick but smaller than mine. I was surprised he was uncut, as most of the Americans I'd seen had been cut. He had his left forearm resting against the wall and it had the effect of causing his singlet to ride up. I caught the glimpse of another tattoo towards his belt line, there were no doubt abs there, but he was toned enough for them to show. His skin was obviously darkened by the sun, and it was clear he often rode in a singlet as it moved with him, his tan lines flashed back and forth. I flicked my cock unnecessarily, making sure it was hanging out of my shorts just a little too far. I found freeballing helped the cause, and I was glad today, as I had to think fast. I guessed he was 6'2 maybe 6'3, which was good half-a-cock taller than me. He had the swagger, and the stall was free. I was about to try for the stare at my shirt, stare at him combo, when I nearly ruined the entire experience by shitting myself, as I was startled by another man taking a piss next to me.
I hadn't noticed him come in, but I'm not sure how. He was larger than life and he had a chain that jingled as he adjusted his stance. Before I had a chance to glance down at him, he chuckled and spoke in a large Southern drawl 'nice shirt'. I turned to face him, and noticed him uncomfortably close, as if the etiquette breakdown was contagious. He was older by a good ten years, a moustache that had conquered his face, and greying stubble over the rest. He was wearing a denim jacket and button up shirt, large, with a back that stretched his proportions just enough. I heard the other man wrapping up and just turned as he walked away. I was out of piss. It was over. I figured my only move left, was to flip it back in and 'accidentally' brush past the side of the older man. Before I had time to flick my wet dick, I felt the other man's forearm brush against mine. I wouldn't have thought much of it, except he growled in a low tone 'it's appropriate'. I was still thinking about what he meant when he flicked the tap on. 'Looks like you're taps run dry there.' I sheepishly flopped it back in and pulled the strings on my increasingly looking pineapple print shorts, hoping he'd finish and I'd still have time to pull the man, or be pushed as the current fantasy playing in my mind was going, into the other stall. He was still washing when I got there, his calloused hands lathering each other repeatedly with the dirty looking cake of soap that had probably not been used in days. 'Looks like the shirt is popular' I murmured as I ushered with my hands to see if he'd let me run them under the tap. He adjusted slightly to the left, but not enough that going for the running water didn't cause me to brush past his abdomen. I felt my breath hitch as I saw his reflect in the mirror. He also had stubble, but it was black, and it was only smattered across his jaw, his face was clenched, as if he too was apprehensive. His eyes were brown, and I noticed a scar at the top of his shoulder. My mind raced, bar fight, cigarette burn, shrapnel from war. The cliches were endless. None of it mattered as I didn't plan to utter any more words. The mystery was the joy, I could craft whatever narrative I wanted after I got his cock in my mouth, and his cum down my throat. He reached down with his soapy hands, and battled my hands for the faucet. 'Don't drop the soap'. His mouth creeped into a smile, as if he could read my thoughts. Not today, monsieur, I'll be on my knees, not my hands and knees thank you very much. My cock started to twitch at all these thoughts, but again my moment was shattered by the Southern man loudly clearing his throat and professing 'Seems like there's a traffic jam going on today.' We both instinctively stepped aside, my trucker flicking the excess water, and myself lamely lathering to pass the time. I eagerly passed the soap to the Southern man, hoping he would get the cue, wash and be gone. 'Well, you're in a hurry aren't you?' There was already too many words for my liking, and I was worried the precum leaking out would start staining my shorts. That or my unopposed growing erection would give
away my nefarious designs.
He stepped back to let me wash them, as the trucker sensed the complex dynamics and wiped the remaining moisture on his hand on the front of his singlet. I didn't bother washing off the soap, I just grabbed a paper towel, and wiped them hurriedly. I got the trucker's glance, and he brushed his hand over his crotch. I was getting inpatient, and I was going to just walk myself into the stall if the Southern man didn't make a well-timed exit in the next ten seconds. I was silently counting down, like the controller of a rocket launch, except the only rocket launching was my cock. I got down to four, before I started walking. Of course, as luck would have it the second I try to step around the Southern man, he walks back into what is now an almost fully erect dick. 'Sweet Jesus' he exclaimed almost comically. 'That's a weapon.' I was sure what was happening initially, but he didn't seem pissed, nor did he seem to want to leave the increasingly heated situation. I saw my trucker walking backwards, biting his lower lip just a little, as if he too was eager for relief. 'If you think we're all going to fit in that stall, you've got another thing coming.'
I think my face gave away my surprise, as the trucker stopped in his tracks, and the other man continued 'It'll be more comfortable in my truck. After all, that's what you've come for, the full roadster experience?' I don't think I could contain my shock, as my mouth was involuntarily open wide, as if the cock sucking had begun without me noticing. 'Come on now, don't overwork your jaw too soon.' I looked back at the trucker, who I had already built a backstory for, a man from Arkansas, father was a farmer, they had a falling out one night when his father caught him jerking off to a sport's poster of an NFL player. They had brawled, he had picked up a bottle, and in the brawl, cut himself against a piece of glass that had broken off in the struggle. Voila, scar on his shoulder, and a career as a long-haul trucker. He was starting to show through the jeans, and my mouth was wet with anticipation. 'Up to you two, but I figure there's room in that mouth of yours for two. Besides, might have a trick or two to show you both.' I shrugged, he was right. Plus, it would allow me time to savour the trucker's cock and my leaking dick needed attention too. 'Sure, up to him.' I ushered over and he just nodded. The rest happened in a blur, I tried to cross the seemingly endless concrete, both quickly but unobviously. He walked off to the side and I had a mental plan to go around the side parked away from the service station. I had no idea if these two had ever met, and I had hoped this wasn't some set-up. I didn't have any money to steal really, but I suppose there was worse things that happened in the middle of nowhere, Texas. Sweat had started to tremble down my forehead, and while my cock had calmed a little, it started to harden again as I reached the passenger side. The truck door clanked open and slammed again, as the Southern man pulled himself across the cab and reached across to the other door. I looked out for Arkansas, and hoped desperately that he hadn't taken himself and his truck out of the depot. I had gone in expecting nothing, but now was determined to make this a memory I wouldn't forget. I had barely stepped up on to the truck, when I felt Arkansas behind me. Deliberately, pushing back against him I felt his cock, still trapped by denim but definitely ready for my watering mouth.
I had no idea what to expect, and it was somehow about what I had imagined. A relatively roughed up set off sheets, a bed and enough room for the three of us. The Southern man, ushered us in smiling proudly at the space. I reached back and pulled Arkansas in for a kiss. He met my force equally, pulling at the back of the hair on my head. Sadly, I could return the favour as his short cut hair slipped through, and I was forced to make do with an errant hand grabbing at his ass. 'Ooh, well this is a show.' We kept going, as my shorts created friction against the denim, the precum now thoroughly staining them. I had planned to leave Arkansas' singlet on, but I had time now to explore his body before engorging myself. I ran my finger across his scar, and he seemed to involuntarily wince. He seemed to take this as a sign to take the singlet off and he furiously removed it. The Southern Man as if sensing what was happening came from behind, and lifted my shirt running his hand across the small of my back, and lightly grazing his stubble against my shoulder as he pulled it clear off my head. Arkansas had started to unbuckle his belt, and I pulled it back and shook my head, trying to indicate that this was my job. The Southern Man stepped back and circled around us both. 'Well, I don't which of you has the most delicious ass.' He groped at his cock as if to suggest his hard on was needing a new home. Arkansas broke the silence 'Hey man, sorry, I'm a top.' I let out a silent sigh, I hadn't expected to fuck anyone today, but after the Southern Man had raised it, I was secretly hoping I'd get to pound his huge ass. 'Pity, I guess the Aussie will be getting double dicked today.' I almost laughed, both at the way he said 'Aussie' and the idea that I was going to bottom. I hadn't been fucked in over a year, and I was definitely not in a position to get rammed twice in quick succession. 'Yeah, sorry to disappoint, but top here also.'
I had expected the Southern Man to be disappointed, assuming he was also a top. His expression made me wonder, if he was versatile, as he seemed amused by my response more than anything. 'What a quandry! Three tops!' I laughed at his use of the word quandry, and the idea that three tops was really a problem without a solution. I added quickly 'I'm happy to take both your loads down my throat, no cock too big for my non-existent gag reflex'. He seemed pleased but not entirely satisfied. 'Well, that's good, because you'll struggle to get mine all the way down that pretty mouth of yours.' I did love a good challenge. Arkansas piped up 'yeah, not one to try to one up you, but I'm glad as people usually struggle with mine.' Ooh, two challenges. 'I'll drain you both, and then you're free to take a go at me.' Arkansas nodded, and I was about to make a beeline for his belt, then his zipper, when the Southern Man came up behind me. He rubbed his hand down my stomach, and groped at my crotch. 'I've got a better idea. No one has seen each other's cocks yet, hard at least.' He let go as if he was reassured. 'Why don't we make a wager. We wank till we are good and hard, and then we have a good ole' fashioned cock off'. I could tell that Arkansas wasn't sure what that was, and I only knew from the stupid competitions we got into when we were drunk back at the dorms. I would be the first to whip it out, hard or soft, as I usually came in top, if not close to it. I was a shower, and it meant changerooms had been both a blessing and a curse. When your hard cock is big, there's no room to get even a little aroused. Plus from some guys looks, I could tell they even thought maybe I was half chub. I wasn't *that* big hard, maybe a tiny bit above 8", but not close enough to 8.5" to claim that size. I was thick, but definitely not the thickest that I'd seen. Still 8" was well about average, and while I suspected the Southern Man had a big one, after all, I hadn't even seen it soft, I figured Arkansas was not well placed to win this bet. The last time I had been faced with a top who wanted to fuck me, I let the flip of a coin decide the outcome, but I guess that was a story for another day. Today, I had the confidence of my big dick, that wasn't fully hard when it had been groped. Arkansas looked a bit sheepish for the first time that day 'I dunno man, I've had two fingers up there.' At the confession, my cock twitched again and pressed precariously at my shorts line. Fuck, either he takes the bet, or I'm dropping to my knees. Arkansas looked at me, 'look, I'm in if the Aussie's in'. I leaked down my leg at the thought of getting to pop his cherry. I walked up to him, my chest pressing against his, grabbed his ass hard and smirked 'well, I guess someone is getting their hole stretched today, cause I'm in and I'm definitely bigger. Oh and I call first dibs' I said with gusto, thrusting my dick up against his leg. I went to inspect the goods, although before I could the Southern Man grabbed my hand. 'No, no, eyes up. It's better if we all wank, then compare. More suspense that way.' I was getting the sinking suspicion that maybe he had done this before. I shook away my doubts, and kept my eyes on Arkansas, and him on me. I heard his belt jingle, and his zipper go down. He then pulled my shorts down. The Southern man was behind me again. 'Do you mind if I inspect the prize?' 'Go right ahead, but I wouldn't get ahead of yourself.' He was suddenly on his knees, pulling my cheeks apart. 'Such a nice ass, shame that it's not used regularly.' I laughed and concentrated on the tattoo snaking up Arkansas' groin. 'Hey, eyes up.' 'Just taking a look at your tattoos.'
'Yeah, yeah, well it's just a snake and an apple. Temptation.' I smiled, yeah, a snake, temptation, sounds like a good deal. I felt the Southern Man's moustache, just before his tongue, as he began rimming me unexpectedly. He moved back and forth between my cheeks, and I let him, figuring it was as much as he was going to get today. Arkansas' smile at this action, had me at peak hardness. 'Well, looks like he's busy, you ready to meet your fate?' He walked up to me, as I stood no longer touching my cock, proudly displaying my erection. 'Top or bottom'. He saw the confusion in my face. 'My cock on top of yours or bottom.' 'Haha, let's go bottom for good luck.' As he felt for my cock, I realised I had been wrong, as his calloused hands rubbing against my shaft causing my stiffen even more, and I dripped on to his leg. Man, he was lucky, cause I was pretty sure just the sight of him on his hands and knees would get close. I felt him grasp my cock with his right hand as his left hand pulled his own cock under mine. 'Ready?' I looked down in amazement, I had seen longer cocks than mine, and a few thicker, but his was approaching a can of Lynx, or Axe as the Americans called it. We had agreed that it would be length, and I attempted futilely to push against his pubes. Instead, his wet cock head rubbed into mine. 'Want to try on top?' I nodded nervously, hoping for a different result, but whether the result of the cock off had made him harder, or me softer, but the result was even worse. This time I barely felt his pubes, and I couldn't deny he was longer as well. A shit eating grin spread across his face, as if I had underestimated him, and now his prize was my now quite wet hole. Speaking of shit eating, as if sensing a result, he stood up. 'Do we have a winner?' Arkansas not wanting to give anything away, shook his butt. His thighs tensing, and he pulled at his butt cheeks. I could see the tiniest of holes, and he had to pull to even give any sign of the pink. I was back to peak hardness, dreaming about what it would have been like stretching that hole. The Southern Man smiled, gleefully imagining opening up Arkansas. Before he had too long to dream though, Arkansas pulled around and gave him the bad news, or good depending on who was asking. 'No cherry popping tonight, but I expect the Aussie has a tight hole. I call first dibs.' A new wave of bravado came over me, and I figured it was time to compare against the Southerner. He had already moved towards me. I took the first move 'Ready?'
It was just starting to get warm, and I had swapped from jeans to shorts, and was thankful, as the sun hit me, the heat bouncing of the concrete of the service station. I was wearing my "Hi. You'll Do" shirt, hoping optimistically smirk and point to my shirt if there was any options. I saw a fair few trucks, and dared to be optimistic. A few overweight truckers were smoking unironically next to a no-smoking sign, one glanced at me, and I shivered. I'm not really sure why he glanced over, I reasoned that I no doubt looked out of place. I met his eyes and he looked away but my anticipation only rose. I walked on to the restrooms, as Americans called them. I told myself, I was here to down a trucker's load, I was going to make it happen today.
I was disappointed when I walked to the urinals, and noticed a single occupied stall. Americans had ridiculously large gaps in their stalls, perhaps anticipating that every one held the promise of a load taken or spent. This one wasn't as bad as the airport shitters that always fucked with my plans. I had no idea how I would make it work, but I had already figured that even if someone saw something, no one would care. I had a bit of ritual down pat at this point, if no one was in when I got in, I'd go to sink and splash water in my face, sometimes for an absurd amount of time. Eventually, someone would walk in, and if I liked the look I could saunter over and take a piss. Sometimes I used one of the stalls to kill a bit more time if they weren't what I was after. Today, I'd take what I could get. The man from the stall came out, adjusted him belt and bypassed the sink altogether. I smirked and shook my head but was secretly relieved. I stared back at the mirror as I noticed a man walk in behind me. I only caught his silhouette but he was more slight than the other men, still stocky, with a large tattoo creeping up his arm. The clunk of his steel toed boots shattered my reverie, and I tried to look less awkward. I threw the paper towels in the trash, and went over to get a closer look.
He had boot cut jeans that stretched across a large ass, seams almost splitting down his thighs, while tapering down. I never liked the cut much on me, but on him it worked. It was clear he was taller than me, and it helped even out his proportions. He was wearing a singlet, and I could see his tattoo clearer now, a mermaid with it's tail wrapped around what looked like an anchor. I wondered if he was a popeye fan. Peopled pissed quickly, so you didn't have long time to judge whether this was the shot to take. I walked and flopped out my cock, a little too closer than urinal etiquette demanded. I tried for an awkward nod, and he seemed to acknowledge my presence. I peered across and caught a flash of his cock head, thick but smaller than mine. I was surprised he was uncut, as most of the Americans I'd seen had been cut. He had his left forearm resting against the wall and it had the effect of causing his singlet to ride up. I caught the glimpse of another tattoo towards his belt line, there were no doubt abs there, but he was toned enough for them to show. His skin was obviously darkened by the sun, and it was clear he often rode in a singlet as it moved with him, his tan lines flashed back and forth. I flicked my cock unnecessarily, making sure it was hanging out of my shorts just a little too far. I found freeballing helped the cause, and I was glad today, as I had to think fast. I guessed he was 6'2 maybe 6'3, which was good half-a-cock taller than me. He had the swagger, and the stall was free. I was about to try for the stare at my shirt, stare at him combo, when I nearly ruined the entire experience by shitting myself, as I was startled by another man taking a piss next to me.
I hadn't noticed him come in, but I'm not sure how. He was larger than life and he had a chain that jingled as he adjusted his stance. Before I had a chance to glance down at him, he chuckled and spoke in a large Southern drawl 'nice shirt'. I turned to face him, and noticed him uncomfortably close, as if the etiquette breakdown was contagious. He was older by a good ten years, a moustache that had conquered his face, and greying stubble over the rest. He was wearing a denim jacket and button up shirt, large, with a back that stretched his proportions just enough. I heard the other man wrapping up and just turned as he walked away. I was out of piss. It was over. I figured my only move left, was to flip it back in and 'accidentally' brush past the side of the older man. Before I had time to flick my wet dick, I felt the other man's forearm brush against mine. I wouldn't have thought much of it, except he growled in a low tone 'it's appropriate'. I was still thinking about what he meant when he flicked the tap on. 'Looks like you're taps run dry there.' I sheepishly flopped it back in and pulled the strings on my increasingly looking pineapple print shorts, hoping he'd finish and I'd still have time to pull the man, or be pushed as the current fantasy playing in my mind was going, into the other stall. He was still washing when I got there, his calloused hands lathering each other repeatedly with the dirty looking cake of soap that had probably not been used in days. 'Looks like the shirt is popular' I murmured as I ushered with my hands to see if he'd let me run them under the tap. He adjusted slightly to the left, but not enough that going for the running water didn't cause me to brush past his abdomen. I felt my breath hitch as I saw his reflect in the mirror. He also had stubble, but it was black, and it was only smattered across his jaw, his face was clenched, as if he too was apprehensive. His eyes were brown, and I noticed a scar at the top of his shoulder. My mind raced, bar fight, cigarette burn, shrapnel from war. The cliches were endless. None of it mattered as I didn't plan to utter any more words. The mystery was the joy, I could craft whatever narrative I wanted after I got his cock in my mouth, and his cum down my throat. He reached down with his soapy hands, and battled my hands for the faucet. 'Don't drop the soap'. His mouth creeped into a smile, as if he could read my thoughts. Not today, monsieur, I'll be on my knees, not my hands and knees thank you very much. My cock started to twitch at all these thoughts, but again my moment was shattered by the Southern man loudly clearing his throat and professing 'Seems like there's a traffic jam going on today.' We both instinctively stepped aside, my trucker flicking the excess water, and myself lamely lathering to pass the time. I eagerly passed the soap to the Southern man, hoping he would get the cue, wash and be gone. 'Well, you're in a hurry aren't you?' There was already too many words for my liking, and I was worried the precum leaking out would start staining my shorts. That or my unopposed growing erection would give
away my nefarious designs.
He stepped back to let me wash them, as the trucker sensed the complex dynamics and wiped the remaining moisture on his hand on the front of his singlet. I didn't bother washing off the soap, I just grabbed a paper towel, and wiped them hurriedly. I got the trucker's glance, and he brushed his hand over his crotch. I was getting inpatient, and I was going to just walk myself into the stall if the Southern man didn't make a well-timed exit in the next ten seconds. I was silently counting down, like the controller of a rocket launch, except the only rocket launching was my cock. I got down to four, before I started walking. Of course, as luck would have it the second I try to step around the Southern man, he walks back into what is now an almost fully erect dick. 'Sweet Jesus' he exclaimed almost comically. 'That's a weapon.' I was sure what was happening initially, but he didn't seem pissed, nor did he seem to want to leave the increasingly heated situation. I saw my trucker walking backwards, biting his lower lip just a little, as if he too was eager for relief. 'If you think we're all going to fit in that stall, you've got another thing coming.'
I think my face gave away my surprise, as the trucker stopped in his tracks, and the other man continued 'It'll be more comfortable in my truck. After all, that's what you've come for, the full roadster experience?' I don't think I could contain my shock, as my mouth was involuntarily open wide, as if the cock sucking had begun without me noticing. 'Come on now, don't overwork your jaw too soon.' I looked back at the trucker, who I had already built a backstory for, a man from Arkansas, father was a farmer, they had a falling out one night when his father caught him jerking off to a sport's poster of an NFL player. They had brawled, he had picked up a bottle, and in the brawl, cut himself against a piece of glass that had broken off in the struggle. Voila, scar on his shoulder, and a career as a long-haul trucker. He was starting to show through the jeans, and my mouth was wet with anticipation. 'Up to you two, but I figure there's room in that mouth of yours for two. Besides, might have a trick or two to show you both.' I shrugged, he was right. Plus, it would allow me time to savour the trucker's cock and my leaking dick needed attention too. 'Sure, up to him.' I ushered over and he just nodded. The rest happened in a blur, I tried to cross the seemingly endless concrete, both quickly but unobviously. He walked off to the side and I had a mental plan to go around the side parked away from the service station. I had no idea if these two had ever met, and I had hoped this wasn't some set-up. I didn't have any money to steal really, but I suppose there was worse things that happened in the middle of nowhere, Texas. Sweat had started to tremble down my forehead, and while my cock had calmed a little, it started to harden again as I reached the passenger side. The truck door clanked open and slammed again, as the Southern man pulled himself across the cab and reached across to the other door. I looked out for Arkansas, and hoped desperately that he hadn't taken himself and his truck out of the depot. I had gone in expecting nothing, but now was determined to make this a memory I wouldn't forget. I had barely stepped up on to the truck, when I felt Arkansas behind me. Deliberately, pushing back against him I felt his cock, still trapped by denim but definitely ready for my watering mouth.
I had no idea what to expect, and it was somehow about what I had imagined. A relatively roughed up set off sheets, a bed and enough room for the three of us. The Southern man, ushered us in smiling proudly at the space. I reached back and pulled Arkansas in for a kiss. He met my force equally, pulling at the back of the hair on my head. Sadly, I could return the favour as his short cut hair slipped through, and I was forced to make do with an errant hand grabbing at his ass. 'Ooh, well this is a show.' We kept going, as my shorts created friction against the denim, the precum now thoroughly staining them. I had planned to leave Arkansas' singlet on, but I had time now to explore his body before engorging myself. I ran my finger across his scar, and he seemed to involuntarily wince. He seemed to take this as a sign to take the singlet off and he furiously removed it. The Southern Man as if sensing what was happening came from behind, and lifted my shirt running his hand across the small of my back, and lightly grazing his stubble against my shoulder as he pulled it clear off my head. Arkansas had started to unbuckle his belt, and I pulled it back and shook my head, trying to indicate that this was my job. The Southern Man stepped back and circled around us both. 'Well, I don't which of you has the most delicious ass.' He groped at his cock as if to suggest his hard on was needing a new home. Arkansas broke the silence 'Hey man, sorry, I'm a top.' I let out a silent sigh, I hadn't expected to fuck anyone today, but after the Southern Man had raised it, I was secretly hoping I'd get to pound his huge ass. 'Pity, I guess the Aussie will be getting double dicked today.' I almost laughed, both at the way he said 'Aussie' and the idea that I was going to bottom. I hadn't been fucked in over a year, and I was definitely not in a position to get rammed twice in quick succession. 'Yeah, sorry to disappoint, but top here also.'
I had expected the Southern Man to be disappointed, assuming he was also a top. His expression made me wonder, if he was versatile, as he seemed amused by my response more than anything. 'What a quandry! Three tops!' I laughed at his use of the word quandry, and the idea that three tops was really a problem without a solution. I added quickly 'I'm happy to take both your loads down my throat, no cock too big for my non-existent gag reflex'. He seemed pleased but not entirely satisfied. 'Well, that's good, because you'll struggle to get mine all the way down that pretty mouth of yours.' I did love a good challenge. Arkansas piped up 'yeah, not one to try to one up you, but I'm glad as people usually struggle with mine.' Ooh, two challenges. 'I'll drain you both, and then you're free to take a go at me.' Arkansas nodded, and I was about to make a beeline for his belt, then his zipper, when the Southern Man came up behind me. He rubbed his hand down my stomach, and groped at my crotch. 'I've got a better idea. No one has seen each other's cocks yet, hard at least.' He let go as if he was reassured. 'Why don't we make a wager. We wank till we are good and hard, and then we have a good ole' fashioned cock off'. I could tell that Arkansas wasn't sure what that was, and I only knew from the stupid competitions we got into when we were drunk back at the dorms. I would be the first to whip it out, hard or soft, as I usually came in top, if not close to it. I was a shower, and it meant changerooms had been both a blessing and a curse. When your hard cock is big, there's no room to get even a little aroused. Plus from some guys looks, I could tell they even thought maybe I was half chub. I wasn't *that* big hard, maybe a tiny bit above 8", but not close enough to 8.5" to claim that size. I was thick, but definitely not the thickest that I'd seen. Still 8" was well about average, and while I suspected the Southern Man had a big one, after all, I hadn't even seen it soft, I figured Arkansas was not well placed to win this bet. The last time I had been faced with a top who wanted to fuck me, I let the flip of a coin decide the outcome, but I guess that was a story for another day. Today, I had the confidence of my big dick, that wasn't fully hard when it had been groped. Arkansas looked a bit sheepish for the first time that day 'I dunno man, I've had two fingers up there.' At the confession, my cock twitched again and pressed precariously at my shorts line. Fuck, either he takes the bet, or I'm dropping to my knees. Arkansas looked at me, 'look, I'm in if the Aussie's in'. I leaked down my leg at the thought of getting to pop his cherry. I walked up to him, my chest pressing against his, grabbed his ass hard and smirked 'well, I guess someone is getting their hole stretched today, cause I'm in and I'm definitely bigger. Oh and I call first dibs' I said with gusto, thrusting my dick up against his leg. I went to inspect the goods, although before I could the Southern Man grabbed my hand. 'No, no, eyes up. It's better if we all wank, then compare. More suspense that way.' I was getting the sinking suspicion that maybe he had done this before. I shook away my doubts, and kept my eyes on Arkansas, and him on me. I heard his belt jingle, and his zipper go down. He then pulled my shorts down. The Southern man was behind me again. 'Do you mind if I inspect the prize?' 'Go right ahead, but I wouldn't get ahead of yourself.' He was suddenly on his knees, pulling my cheeks apart. 'Such a nice ass, shame that it's not used regularly.' I laughed and concentrated on the tattoo snaking up Arkansas' groin. 'Hey, eyes up.' 'Just taking a look at your tattoos.'
'Yeah, yeah, well it's just a snake and an apple. Temptation.' I smiled, yeah, a snake, temptation, sounds like a good deal. I felt the Southern Man's moustache, just before his tongue, as he began rimming me unexpectedly. He moved back and forth between my cheeks, and I let him, figuring it was as much as he was going to get today. Arkansas' smile at this action, had me at peak hardness. 'Well, looks like he's busy, you ready to meet your fate?' He walked up to me, as I stood no longer touching my cock, proudly displaying my erection. 'Top or bottom'. He saw the confusion in my face. 'My cock on top of yours or bottom.' 'Haha, let's go bottom for good luck.' As he felt for my cock, I realised I had been wrong, as his calloused hands rubbing against my shaft causing my stiffen even more, and I dripped on to his leg. Man, he was lucky, cause I was pretty sure just the sight of him on his hands and knees would get close. I felt him grasp my cock with his right hand as his left hand pulled his own cock under mine. 'Ready?' I looked down in amazement, I had seen longer cocks than mine, and a few thicker, but his was approaching a can of Lynx, or Axe as the Americans called it. We had agreed that it would be length, and I attempted futilely to push against his pubes. Instead, his wet cock head rubbed into mine. 'Want to try on top?' I nodded nervously, hoping for a different result, but whether the result of the cock off had made him harder, or me softer, but the result was even worse. This time I barely felt his pubes, and I couldn't deny he was longer as well. A shit eating grin spread across his face, as if I had underestimated him, and now his prize was my now quite wet hole. Speaking of shit eating, as if sensing a result, he stood up. 'Do we have a winner?' Arkansas not wanting to give anything away, shook his butt. His thighs tensing, and he pulled at his butt cheeks. I could see the tiniest of holes, and he had to pull to even give any sign of the pink. I was back to peak hardness, dreaming about what it would have been like stretching that hole. The Southern Man smiled, gleefully imagining opening up Arkansas. Before he had too long to dream though, Arkansas pulled around and gave him the bad news, or good depending on who was asking. 'No cherry popping tonight, but I expect the Aussie has a tight hole. I call first dibs.' A new wave of bravado came over me, and I figured it was time to compare against the Southerner. He had already moved towards me. I took the first move 'Ready?'
