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Seduced by my own Twin Bro.
Part 4 of 5.
I watched Owen and Bill leave our bedroom. The guys had undressed and wore the swim shorts I gave them. Meijers looked good in my old black trunks. As they walked away, their fingers intertwined, revealing a surprising connection between them. Owen Harper was the definition of polished charm with a bleached hairdo and a muscular physique. Every muscle group is clearly visible on him.
On the other hand, Billy Meijers is much rougher around the edges. A scruffy beard and unkempt hair. His arms and chest were covered in an assortment of tattoos and scars. Definitely looking as if he needed a spa day. Yet, reasonably muscular as well. He acted like a brusk Alpha, but experience taught me he was anything but. Despite their apparent differences, Owen and Billy complemented each other well.
AI-generated image. Mage-space
Badass bully Billy Meijers, standing in an abandoned building.
I couldn't shake my concern about Bill reverting to his old bullying ways, though. In high school, his insecurity manifested as aggression or racism, and he took pleasure in targeting the colored and vulnerable guys. If Owen did not keep Meijers on a short leash, the Latina Doctor Carla Martin, a lesbian, could readily become his next target. With my dark, brooding emo style, I often found myself in the crosshairs of Bill's relentless bullying at school, too. Though not as frequently as poor Victor Reece. Billy Meijers had a knack for sniffing out the weak and vulnerable. He and his cronies could practically sense them from a mile away.
Reece was one of Meijer's favorite submissive victims. Victor's smooth, hairless, mocha-colored skin and lean, boyish good looks were well hidden beneath scraggy clothes. It looked like money was tight. So, Victor's swimmer's physique went mostly unnoticed by the rest of the school. He faced relentless bullying from Meijers and his cronies, though. Reece was treated like an outcast. The man just let it wash over him for no reason at all. It was disheartening to witness.
Victor had few friends, but I counted myself among them. Even though Reece made sure I kept my distance. He enjoyed our naughty talks in the showers after our weekly swim meets, though. I loved looking at him naked. And now I know why. The funny thing was, Victor always got a little aroused during those seductive shower hookups. The ebony stud was hung. Not that it led to anything. We didn't dare show the rest we had feelings like those. We did not even talk about the subject. I wish high school would have lasted a couple more years. I would have definitely tried my luck with him. Hoping that I found some attractive dude like him at college to fool around with.
There it was again, the ever-looming cloud of college worry hanging over me. Why had I waited until now to figure out where I wanted to go? Owen and Billy had opted to stay in town. Going to the local business school. My twin wanted to go into Jackson's outdoor business. I've overheard the two talking about that plenty of times. Owen is much more of an outdoor type than I ever was. Yes, even identical twins can have differing personalities. I wanted to create stuff and become an engineer like Julia Smith.
Surely, by now, all the dorms must be fully booked. Alex had more or less offered me a place to stay in his apartment complex. Even though nothing was set in stone. Yet, the idea started sounding more enticing by the minute.
But Redmond? I didn't know the first thing about it. In fact, I had never even set foot in Bowmond Academy for Engineering and Technology. Sure, I had visited the open days of the other two schools I'd been accepted to. But honestly, I was just as clueless about those cities as I was about Redmond. What was I thinking?
I took my laptop downstairs. I thought I could research the college towns, sitting in the sun. Or, at least, use it to stream some tunes. I wore my white Pride swim shorts and a linen shirt. Exsesserising it with Alex's skimpy black leather stripper vest and a leather wristband. Feeling too cool for my shirt. As if the sun shun out of my every orifice. Filling me up with a light that had been dimmed for much too long. Yes, black and white were my new colors. And I made them look as good as Alex Smith. Even though I wasn't half as muscular as him.
I met Jackson Smith and my Mom, Carol-Sue Harper, on their way up. Jack held out his fist toward me, and I bumped it with a dirty smile. As Mom walked on, Jackson stopped me from going down.
"Thanks for talking to your Mom, Eric. I am glad you talked some sense into her," whispered Jack, relieved. "... What's wrong, Eric?" he asked, seeing my worried look.
"Needing to figure this college thing out a.s.a.p., Dad. I don't have a dorm yet. Heck, I don't even know how to get there without a car," I half sobbed.
Jackson embraced me warmly and said, "Eric Harper, Son, you just pick a town you like, and I'll buy you an apartment and a set of wheels. You know I am good for it. Now, go have fun with the rest. You worry too much, Harper. You let Mother Nature do her magic. Let some of it be a surprise. That's much more fun. You can't plan your entire life in advance, Eric!".
He had a point there. But I needed a home-court advantage. A base to plan my life around.
Jackson let go and went to find Mom. But at the top of the stairs, he stopped and looked back. Saying, "... Eric, hold my calls. I'll be busy for the next hour and a half. Hold down the fort, son. Don't let McDowell in, or answer the police she threatened us with."
He laughed hornily. The boner nearly split his cargo pants. Mom was in for a rough ride in the middle of the afternoon. She deserved every inch of it. Luckily, the heatwave had broken, and a pleasant breeze played through the house's open windows and doors.
The others were already in the pool as I strolled onto the terrace. They giggled as they fooled around in the swimming pool, apparently, to the dislike of she-from-next-door. McDowell was screaming her head off at the half-naked twinks splashing about. Running around the pool to jump off the diving board like giddy teens. I opened my laptop on the patio table to research the university towns and their gay nightlife. Streaming some Euro Trans for the guys to enjoy.
I saw Misses McDowell's head pop over the garden fence, waving her fist at Owen and Bill. Meijers had my twin bro pressed against the pool's edge. Playing with the pool noodle in Owe's swim trunk. McDowell nearly had a heart attack as she saw the two tongue kiss while badass bully Billy Meijers rudely flipped her the bird. Owen let out a fake, gleeful, orgasmic shout. "... Stop it, Bill!... You're making me cum!".
Julia and Carla let out ear-piercing screams of mirth at that remark. That did the trick. McDowell toppled backward out of sight.
It went quiet for a while. Abandoning my laptop, I joined the group in the pool. I seductively stripped out of Alex's skimpy black leather waistcoat and the white linen stripper shirt I borrowed from my 'stepbro'. There was not much to the muscle vest. But it made me feel much more brutal than I actually was. I was sure I made the guys look. Removing my clothes seductively. Swaying my hips to the tunes from Marvin Gaye. Alex just gave me a look like his loins were on fire. Even Carla Martin smiled hotly at me as I danced my way around the pool to the diving board.
The seductive dance-mashup and deep voice of Marvin Gaye made me do it. I pumped my hips in time with the beat. Fucking the air on the edge of the diving board. Alex, wolf-whistled. Owen, Bill, Carla, and Julia stopped what they were doing as they watched me. Jeering at me to drop my swim trunks and give them a show.
Chanting, "... Take it off, Take it off!"
Well, you see, I would have -... If it had not been for - Holier then thou - McDowell. The Karin had pointed a garden hose over the fence. Trying to douse my 'sexual healing' with cold water.
"Watch where you point that thing, McDowell," I called meanly over my shoulder. "... How will you ever wash the sperm off my back if you don't aim right? Keep it still, woman!" I called meanly over my shoulder.
It went quiet on the other side of the fence. Too quiet for my liking. Even the moans and grunts from upstairs seemed to stop. I think, this time, I went too far with my taunts.
I walked back to the trestle table in shame. McDowell's intervention had drenched my feelings about joining the pool party. Looking at my laptop again. Using Google Streetview to cruise around the campuses and the cities. Finding out about the nightlife. Something I had neglected to do for far too long. This knowledge would have made my college picks so much easier.
A quick search on the college housing sites told me that only Bowmond Academy had a few available spaces. Not that those took my fancy. Those concrete dorm-cells just did not cut it for me. So, I was happy Alex had offered me a spot in his apartment building as a backup plan.
As I roamed Redmond's virtual world, I found a few bars, clubs, and gyms that piqued my interest. Carla and Alex sat next to me. Checking I was doing okay. They had seen me droop off and wanted to console me. Taking a break from the pool party that McDowell fucked up. The twenty-five-year-old, Doctor Carla Martin, put a motherly hand on my back as she watched me fly through Redmond.
Alex suddenly called, "... Stop, spin around there, budd. And go back to the intersection."
Smith stopped me on Front Street, near a biker bar and nightclub, right at the main entrance to the Farmsum neighborhood. This location was strategically positioned between Redmond University Hospital and Bowmond Academy. As Alex and Carla explained, this area used to be the beating heart of Farmsum. Regardless, that changed when Redmond rapidly expanded around it. Now, Front Street feels like a quiet backwater. Farmsum's brick buildings and tree-lined streets provide an ideal setting for finding affordable apartments, all while being close to the lively entertainment district and within walking distance of charming shops and vibrant nightlife.
"What am I looking at, Alex? I am not a biker. Shit, I don't even own a motorcycle."
"Eric, you don't need to own a bike to enjoy the company of those guys."
And then I saw it. The peculiar red-brick building on the left of the intersection was a converted garage with apartments above it.
The building on the right was a bar-dancing and café-snack bar. Build around the same time. It was transformed into a biker hangout, by the look of it. A gay club, judging by the leather pride flags hanging outside. And even the apartment building had similar flags waving in the wind. Both buildings formed a 45-degree diamond layout with the greenspace across from the T-junction.
"What am I looking at, Smith? Is this -... Is this your?... Fuck!... WHEN CAN I MOVE IN?" I gasped excitedly. My college worries vanished like snow for the sun. Alex's condo complex was precisely the type of place I had envisioned. Sure, it needed a shit load of work. It looked a little run down. But that's right up my engineering alley, too.
"Yeah. Shit, I miss Redmond," sighed Carla. "... There is plenty to do, see, and take home with you there, Eric. I met Jules there. Redmond Med students and Bowmond Engineers typically don't mix well -... But she fixed my blocked pipes and stayed to play with my pussy," grinned Carla dirty.
The moans and grunts from our villa's top floor had stopped completely. Jackson's phone started whaling. One call after another. Apparently, the make-up-sex of those two got cut short because of me. Smith Senior stuck his head out of the master bedroom window after a fourth or fifth call.
"... Eric Benjamin Harper, get your butt up here, pronto!" Jackson Smith sounded livid. And the other neighbors looked up in surprise. Smith Senior had never used my middle name.
Minutes later, police cars screeched to a halt outside. We heard the police talk warningly to McDowell, and I scurried inside. Alex followed me to answer the police knocking at the front door. Explaining McDowell's invasion into our private family party. As scared as I was walking into the master bedroom, as relaxed looked Jackson. The man had worked hard. The bed was a mess, and Mom was in the shower.
"Sir... You... You wanted to see me?".
"Yup. Just got calls from McDowell and the police. We need to pick up my lawyer and make a statement downtown. Your Mom told me about earlier incidents with that woman. Bring everything you have, Eric! We've got her now. Look!".
He pointed out the window as McDowell got carted off in handcuffs. It looked like she had broken the nose of one of the officers.
Jackson looked at me momentarily and continued, "... Don't look so worried, son. It's a routine thing. I've dealt with her before. That Karin has terrorized this neighborhood for way too long. This time, she went too far! She attacked you!" said Jackson Smith calmingly. The man put an arm on my shoulder, grabbing my neck. As if he was going to push me to my knees. However, Jack merely looked me fatherly in the eye.
"Nah... I should not have made that remark when she sprayed me with cold water over the fence, sir," I said hesitantly.
"Ha... It was a good one, though. Half the neighborhood heard you put McDowell down, son. Anyway, Eric, get dressed. Besides, you and I have some other business in town, too, Harper."
"Huh? What..." I stammered. Fearing the worst.
"... I think I found the perfect set of wheels for you. We can pick it up on the way back. It's a bit quirky. We can pick up dinner afterward. And I saw a nice jacket for you. Something that doesn't scream, 'I am gay; drop to your knees, bitch!'. So, get dressed, Eric, take your ID and driver's license, and let's do this, Harper. See you in the garage in ten. Hurry up!"
As the exuberant pool party got turned down a notch, Jackson and I picked up his lawyer. Heading with all my evidence to the police station to make our statement about she-from-next-door. I filed charges against her for assault, battery, discrimination, and invasion of privacy.
I got measured up at the tailors for a simple leather bomber. Something much more business-like than the chrome-snaps biker jacket Smith Senior had bought for me a year ago. A thin, plain coat I can wear to college, as well as to a gay club for a hard night.
At a used car lot, Jackson bought me the quirkiest car I had ever seen. A pimped up Hyundai Santa Cruz. A compact pickup utility vehicle. Complete with custom mat black paint job, a tec roof rack, a bull bar, a lighting kit, big shoes, heavy anchors, and whatnot. 281 horses, paired with a dual-clutch eight-speed automatic transmission. Full leather interior with racing seats and a roomy back seat. Well, it's spacious enough to spread out on. A bit of road sex never goes awry. A four feet truck bed too small to be much use. But shit, man, I was in love the moment I saw it. As a college freshman, I looked like the king of England cruising around in that. And image, I figured, was everything. After all: 'You never get a Second chance to make a First impression.'
Just like the manly leather look I cherish, this compact trucklet drew attention wherever it went. With its quirky charm, rugged build, and a hint of allure, it had a definite edge. Not overly gay, and yet. We ordered a lavish Chinese-Indian banquet for eight and went home. Doctor Carla Martin and Mom set the extravagant dinner on the terrace.
On our drive, I eagerly unveiled my new ride to Alex, Owen, Bill, and Julia. Their faces lit up with admiration as they circled the truck, their compliments making me beam with pride. We ate, drank, and had fun as a family. Even Bill Meijers managed to fit in nicely. Although I saw Owen keep a close eye on him. Quietly correcting the bastard whenever the rude brute threatened to step out of line.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over our patio, the night wore on. Laughter rang out as we drank the evening away. We had all indulged a little too much, and spirits soared high. Inhibitions faded into the laughter.
I asked Alex Smith, "... Hey Al?... Can you teach me some lap dancing moves?".
"What?..." he asked, dumbfounded. "No!... I don't know how..." said Alex warningly.
Apparently, the 'gigolo' had not told his family about his other 'hobbies'. So, I quickly changed tack. "Hmm... Well, I know you can dance. So, will you teach me some moves?" I felt a little proud that Smith had told me about it, not his family. As disgusted as I had been this morning with Alex's extracurricular activities, as interested I had become in the logistics of it all. Thinking about all that had been said and done.
With the encouragement of Julia and Carla - and even his stepmom, Alex reluctantly stepped forward. Evidently, the women wanted a lap dance anyway. And who could blame them? The alcohol had loosened them up. She-from-next-door was far away, unable to interrupt this party. And Alex Smith is the type of hunk everyone wants to rub their hands on. Or feel his firm bubble butt grind on their laps. His tremendous bulging pecs, enormous arms, and immaculate physique were a feast for the eyes.
Alex picked a thumping song and started to do a routine. Using Mom as his mark. Getting her all hot and bothered. Once he was done, Al ordered - in no uncertain terms - for Bill, Owen, and me to join him. Teaching us step by step the moves that seemed so effortlessly to flow from his body. But they were surprisingly hard to pull off drunk.
Nevertheless, Bill gave Carla a lapdance. I targeted Julia and her big boobs. Burying my face between them and motor-boating the knockers. And Owen got rebuffed by his Mom. So the sneaky bastard gleefully drove his rump into Jackson's crotch. The family laughed their heads off. This evening could not have gone any better. Alex took me aside for a one-on-one. Teaching me the finer points of his dance moves. Watched by the drowsy gathering. The evening was winding down fast. And everyone longed for their beds. Or... For each other.
Mom and Dad were the first to retire. But we knew Jackson merely wanted to continue what McDowell had tried to stop earlier in the day. Julia and Carla went up to their room, too. Owen looked worried over at me. He wanted Meijers's submissive ass but did not want me in the room. My twin's look said it all.
So I answered calmly, "Let me clear up here, Owen. And grab some clean clothes for tomorrow. I'll take the guest room."
I winked at my brother and kissed both oversexed twinks firmly on the mouth. Wishing them a great night.
Whispering to Owen. "He can sleep on my bed, but you'll change the sheets in the morning. Dirty boy!" I said as I squeezed the boy's manhood. Wondering if the drunkard could even get it up. Well, my twin's baseball bat was ready to hit a home run.
As we turned down the lights and locked the doors, I felt Alex's Muscular arm drape over my shoulder.
"Had fun, Eric?" he asked.
"Fuck yeah!" I answered warmly. Pulling Al's arm over my chest.
"Wanna go up to my room, buddy?".
"Hmm... To sleep? or?".
"Nah... I want to talk about next week. We can drive up to Redmond together if we rent a trailer for my bike. Get you settled in early. I want to show you my favorite hangouts... And let it all hang out. And then there is the issue of your apartment. I want you to stay in my building, Eric. We need to hook you up with a part-time job. You're a good dancer. And a great fuck!".
To hear Alex praise me like that was all I needed to agree to anything he said. I was on my knees before the door to his attic bedroom even closed. We had a great talk. Discussing possibilities. Learning about a bit of escort work on the side. Hearing what someone like Alex Smith made an hour while still only topping his clients, got me interested. But not convinced. I'd instead fall in love and have someone steady to fool around with. And all of these discussions took place between grunts and moans. For we flip-fucked the entire night away. And by the sound of it, we were not the only two making out that way. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Love is vigorous in the Smith residence.
No wonder none of us appeared downstairs before noon the next day. I had to wake them with the enticing smell of strong coffee and sweet banana fritters with leftover Chinese. Refried rice and boiled spiced eggs on fresh toast for lunch. We bonded as a family, discussing the future and all its varying possibilities. Even though I already knew where I was going. And what I wanted to do with my life.
We spent most of our time working out in the garage gym that week. It was nice to have someone like Alex Smith train my ass. His exercise regime was much more effective, at any rate. Even though, after last weekend, he never even looked at me with those seductive bedroom eyes again. I think Al's dad had talked to him about sex with me.
We loaded up my new Santa Cruz - or, as I called it, my St.Cruise - with everything I intended to take along for the ride. A rented trailer was essential for accommodating the bulkier items, like Alex's gleaming motorcycle, my mountain bike, and furniture I couldn’t part with. The items that didn’t fit in the compact truck bed were crammed into the backseat.
Dressed for comfort, Alex sported his form-fitting leather jeans, the thru zip running from front to back, showcasing his bulge and sculpted legs. He paired them with a snug tank top highlighting his muscular arms, the definition of his biceps and triceps framing a picture of fitness. Despite the warmth, he had opted for a black hoodie vest, adding a sportive edge to his look. Yet, Smith still showed a surprising amount of tanned skin.
I chose a similar, casual, yet sexy vibe, donning a white jogger that offered both ease and macho style. A charmingly butch white button-up shirt adorned with bold vertical black stripes. Leaving half the snap buttons undone. I threw on my new leather jacket over it. The supple black fabric clung to my form, emphasizing the contours of my pumped arms and well-defined chest. Al's old cowboy boots had been lovingly refinished. Adding chrome bling on the pointy toes and heels. The rejuvenated polishing gave them a rich luster that reflected our testosterone-fueled adventure.
All in all, Smith and I made an impression that wasn't lost on Carla, Julie, Owe, and his mate. Feeling and looking like macho brothers about to embark on a week-long cruise, of the gayest kind. Even the teary farewell could not suppress my eagerness to leave early that morning. But I would be seeing my family and friends quickly enough again. After all, the holiday season was only four months away. Sufficient time to get settled in and start my new college life.
During the first couple of hours, Alex talked my ear off. Telling me about the clubs he part-timed at. His bouncer duties, the stage- and cage-dancer jobs, the men he picked up. And about Robin, his well-hung ebony boyfriend.
Although, talking about his boo got Alex hot and bothered. And me telling the horny bastard to give Robin Grayson a call, did not fall on deaf ears. Alex pushed the double zipper past his nuts and faced-timed Grayson. Hooking the phone holder on the vent on the dash. Giving Robin an instant view of the prancing ten-inch cock, in need of service.
From what I saw, Robin Grayson looked precisely as Al had described. It got me even more interested in meeting him. I do love the look of a dirty-talking, butch black stallion. And by the sound of it, Robin fit that description completely. Six foot seven, slender but powerfully built. And... Umm... hung like a black horse on Viagra. And I wasn't the only one looking. Several truckers on our right had Alex's manhood on full display through the open passenger-side window. Swaying a bit as we overtook them. Honking at us.
Robin, seeing his man jack off next to me, grinned dirty the second he answered his phone. I could see his face light up on the screen. He knew Al had been fucking around with me. And the ebony hunk did not seem to mind one bit. He was already looking forward to bending me over, tying me up, and breeding me the instance I set foot in Smith's love shack.
Alex had not exaggerated one bit. Grayson was every inch as long, girthy, and assertive as my step bro had explained. The length - I figured - I could deal with. But the black eleven-inch horse cock was three times as wide as any normal-sized hung man. Much wider than a baseball bat, for sure! I thanked God the oval tattooed cock wasn't much thicker than an average man's dick.
Grayson had quickly exposed himself, too. Yanking on the nearly foot-long thick telephone pole, standing proudly from his blue hospital scrubs. Going eighty-five down a bustling highway and trying to watch a fully erect ebony dick, streaming live and up close, became much too distracting. The two men jacked off hard and fast, yet they talked as casually and calmly as if nothing odd was happening.
The foul-mouthed African American Thug started bragging and boasting about everything he was going to do to me, for how long, and how bad he was going to hurt my white bubble butt. Telling Alex what names he had come up with for me. Saying I was 'his kid,' and he was 'my black daddy'. Shouting that Al should hurry up and bring 'his new fuck toy'. Robin sounded brutally mean about it, too.
I pulled off the highway and onto a country road. Stopping on a deserted gravel path. I pulled the camera toward me and spoke harshly to Grayson, "... You look here, Bitch! Enough with the bravado. I am no one's slave or fuck toy. And certainly not 'your kid'. How dare you, Bitch!".
I growled dominatly," ... You, of all people, should know that! Al already told me you're a power pig. This is a good thing, for I like to top in leather. So you just keep your hole lubed until I get there. And as for you tying me up? Well, You just worry I don't weld your bling to the metal beams and rape your black hole with a sledgehammer. Us Bowmond boys know how to knock up nurses like you."
Robin's eyebrows lifted in surprise. The ebony God had clearly not realized I was in the car with my brother. Nor that I am every bit as much a budding Alpha top as Smith is. As I turned the camera back to my step bro. I flicked the lever on his seat up. Making him drop back horizontally. I grasped his gearstick and swallowed hard. Eating the throbbing ten-inch dong with glee. Swallowing the instant release of ropes of cum that splattered into my mouth and over my face. Looking belligerently assertive over at Robin Grayson as I got showered with his man's spunk.
With Smith's cum dripping from my mouth, I warned Robin. "... I'd like to taste you too. But you'll have to tone it down a notch, brother. And that thing isn't going anywhere near my ass without Al's approval and supervision. YOU HEAR ME? Love to give it a try eventually, though. Robin 'Hard' Wood."
Robin just grinned at the camera. He dumped his load over his phone and called, "Fuck yes, Sir. I'd love to. Arghh. Ooh... Hmm... Shit, dude. Take my black ass! Spank me raw. I want it, Harper! I'd submit. Dang lil' bro. Al taught you well."
After the call, Alex just looked at me in surprise. Breathing heavily after the shocking orgasm.
"Shit, Eric! Do you know how unusual it is to see Robin submit that quickly to someone? He must have really liked what he saw."
Smith looked at me with those seductive bedroom eyes of his and apologetically wiped his cum off my face.
"Robin does look like a challenge I would go for. Especially if he's dressed in leather," I replied confidently. "... He seems rather a substantial king. But the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I just hope my hole can handle him."
"No-man... Don't worry your ass about it. He'll make it fit... His tongue - and bedside manner - are amazing. Just don't let him face-fuck you!" warned Alex.
"Why not?" I asked indignantly.
"Robin's frenulum and cockhead are extremely sensitive. And the man can't help himself if you stimulate it. He'll ride your throat until you pass out." Alex Smith breathed in deep despair, adding, "... And then Robin will get to work on you for real!"
Again, Al sighed warningly, "... Promise me you won't let it get that far, Eric. I would not be able to stop that horney niggha!"
"Hmm... that bad?".
"Yup. And Robin likes losing control with white twinks like you. Eats them for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. And you'll be just another midnight snack for Grayson. Eric, I am warning you. Be careful! I am not joking."
"Ha. I'll read the owner's manual then. But fuck, I am horney too now. Let's find a motel and fuck a highway cowboy - or two."
Pointing back to the highway. Twisting uncomfortably in my bucket seat. Adjusting my pinching package.
Nothing much happened until we arrived at a seedy-looking truckstop motel for fuel. The sun was already setting as I pumped a load of gas. A long-haul truck pulled up on the other side of the pumps. It had Texas plates, and the dude that jumped out of the cab was... Well, the trucker was hot. Our eyes met, and he flexed his eyebrows at me. Appraising my look while he stroked his bulge a little too obviously. Slicking my lips with my tongue, a move that made the brute grin.
"Wanna hook up, bitch?" he called over as I paid for the gas.
"Hmm? Can you handle a threesome with my bro?" I boldly asked. Pointing at Alex, who had booked a motel room for us at the office.
The shabbily dressed cowboy wore a pale blue denim trucker jacket and black leather cowboy hat. The bulge in his artfully ripped, shiny black jeans had piqued my interest. He was not much older than Alex. Brought in the shoulder and pleasing to the eye. Although in dire need of a shower and a shave.
AI-generated image. Mage-space
Texan Trucker - Shaun Chapman.
Looking for a good time at the truckstop motel.
"Can I fuck Y'alls Bitch?" asked the Texan trucker without even introducing himself. Looking Alex Smith up and down. He clearly liked what he saw. And was willing to pay for it. Assuming Al was my pimp or something like that.
"Careful there, big nuts. This twink isn't as submissive as you think. He'll rearrange your guts. This is 'preparation H', and I am Doc S. Can you afford us? And who the fuck are you?" asked Alex.
The idea that we would get paid for the casual sex surprised me even more than the trucker. But he did not seem to mind at all.
"Oh, sorry, Y'all. I am Chapman, Shaun Chapman. Man, I am horny as fuck. Wanna have some fun?" the trucker asked.
"Meet us in the diner. I want to eat first. And you can do with a shower. I can smell you from here, Chapman. We've booked a room in the motel." I said, wrinkling my nose and adjusting my dick.
"Sorry, man... It's been a hard day."
"Ha. I can see that."
I laughed as I looked him between the legs. The shiny faux leather jeans were straining.
"... Are you sure about this, Eric?... He looks like a nasty handful," asked Alex, grinning at me as we drove the car to the motel.
"Ha... Yeah. Let me blow him first. If he plays nice, you can let him loose on me. I doubt dating opportunities in Redmond would be this easy. Besides, he looks like he can use a hand. I think he likes your leathers, too, Doc. Chapman must see you as my master. I do need to get myself some of those double zipper fuck pants, too. Those are hot, Master!" I smirked dirty. Groping Smith between the legs. Feeling his cock twitch under my palm. Hearing Alex sigh longingly.
"Nah... Not in a masterful mood today, H. Let's talk to him over dinner first. If he wants, we can have some fun. He looks rough, though. This one asks without taking. Best let him pay upfront." said Alex Smith warningly. Knowing the type of man.
"Getting paid for sex? Don't know, man. Okay. I'll follow your lead then. That's your thing, Doc."
I figured I best not use Alex's real name from here on out. But 'preparation H'? Hmm... I had to come up with a different porn name. All though I did not mind injecting some ointment into the trucker's ass.
After dropping off our gear in the motel room, we met with Chapman in the diner. The man had showered and trimmed his stubble. The slicked-back hair was still wet. If anything, the Texan trucker looked even more astonishing than before. Shaun wore a fresh black cowboy shirt and thin police gloves. Carrying a thick toiletry bag with him. It interested me. Wondering what and why. But the powerful stud puppet looked even more sexy, dressed all in black. He grinned hornily at us as he slid into the booth beside me. Handing Smith the thousand dollars he had negotiated for the event. My ears turned red as the money eagerly exchanged hands. What had I let myself in for? This put so much pressure on me. It was excruciating.
Shaun Chapman was a very hands-on type of guy. Groping and prodding me all throughout dinner. Alex invited Chapman to our hotel room for dessert. When Chapman entered the room, the Doc grabbed him and kissed the trucker. As we had discussed, I set up my Digicam and our phones to film the seductive hookup with this stranger. I kept telling myself I needed to enjoy it. It was just another opportunity to learn from the best. But man, Shaun had dropped the charm and was channeling his inner sadistic master.
When I joined the two in the middle of the room, Shaun pressed his bulge to my ass while Al started to tongue me. If anything, this helped me ease into the proceedings. Chapman helpt me out of my shirt while forcibly grinding his dick to my ass. The Tex-ass brute wanted in there. But I needed Smith to warm me up first.
"Shit... You're nice, H... I'm going to rip you a new one!..." sighed the trucker threateningly in my ear. To me, the trucker looked like the hit-n-run type. He would bend me over, fill me up, and leave with a bloody dick and dirty grin. Luckily, Alex Smith was here to make love to me, even if Chapman had other plans.
"Why don't you studs show me what I have to work with? Drop those socks, and grab those cocks! I want some dessert cream," I groaned slutty to the adults. Leaning back to kiss Shaun. This was all it took to get the party going.
I slid to my knees and was faced with two fat cock's. "Hmm. Al's got the nicer one of the two," I thought, watching the throbbing sticks slapping my face. Even though both were of similar size. I grabbed a hold and set to work. Sucking them off with apparent joy. Having to shut my brain from all the disgusted thoughts that unexpectedly spooked around up there.
Chapman was all for the idea of sandwiching my sorry ass between them. Ruthlessly double-penetrating it, whether I could handle it or not. The Doc squinted his eyes dangerously and warned the trucker.
"Best tone it down a bit, Shaun!".
"Really?" Chapman incredulously asked as he looked down. Watching me expertly deep-throat the slender ten-and-a-half-inch red-hot poker with ease. The butch alpha top seemed impressed. So was I, to be honest. Chapman wasn't as wide as Alex. The cock fitted nicely in the back of my mouth.
I suggested to the brute, "... Yeah. Strap on a raincoat and slick it up, Chapman. I'll let you park it deep inside while Doc S seeds my throat. He knows what I like. But play nice! Or else!" I said warningly. Getting up and pulling my white joggers off. Revealing Al's thin leather chaps underneath. Alex's mouth dropped open. He had clearly not realized I had worn the kinky garment all day already. Sitting on all fours on one of the beds.
Again, warning the trucker, "... Nice and easy now! Or I'll have your ass hauled to jail, Chapman."
Watching the trucker snap on a rubber, moving closer to the garage.
The trucker was about to mercilessly penetrate my twinky boy-cunt anyway. But, the angry glares from both Al and me snapped the trucker out of it. He switched gears in a heartbeat. And slowly entered the darkened love tunnel. Letting me get used to his girth. I set the tempo. Moving deliberately back over the trucker's big rig. Feeling Al's manhood part my lips. I got spit-roasted for the first time in my life. And loved it! However, The Redneck really was a nasty Alpha top. Using his cock like a weapon. This wasn't love. This was ruthless lust. I finally understood why Alex Smith only topped his clients. So, after ten or so minutes, I flipped over on my back and offered my hole to Alex.
The trucker straddled my face after removing his shiny black jeans and work boots. Feeding me his fuel hose. Facing away from the Doc plugging my hole. Throat fucking me while Alex rimmed his gaping Tex-ass back country highway. Making the trucker grunt dirty. Moaning like his ass had never been tongue-fucked. Giving me a first face full of pure, un-leaded Texan cream. I could feel him fill up the condom in my mouth.
I felt Smith rubber my dick. Spit-lubing it with his drool. And while Chapman was still coming down off the adrenaline high, he parked Shaun's ass over it. The man screamed for real now. Waking half the motel. He glared up at the Doc. But Alex had him in a headlock. Pumping the Tex-ass over my eight-inch dick by the throat. I met Al's tempo, and together, we fucked the top into submission. Making him cry in delight at the onslaught. It was clear that this straight guy had never been fucked before. Yet, after a while, he road me like the dirty cowfucker he was.
Al moved around to his front and dipped his dick into Shaun's gasping mouth. Making ten inches of pumping, pulsating meat disappear deep into Chapman's struggling gullet. Choking and gagging like mad. As I looked up, I saw Smith's tailpipe wink at me. I drove a finger in his ass. Causing an avalanche of sperm to backfire. Alex Smith held the Texas Redneck down as the high-pressure hose exploded. He seeded the rubber he was wearing. I filled mine in Shaun's stretched, rosey butt. And Chapman unloaded his cargo over my sweaty chest. It felt like a hundred-mile-an-hour head-on collision.
As Chapman rolled off me, his straight, hairy truckers-ass gripped my rubber. Pulling the stuffed thing right off my slick dick. Leaving its content dripping over my cock and balls. It took a while for Shaun to calm down. And even my 'step bro' was breathing like a winded bull. I just lay there grinning nastily at the two adult men I had conquered.
Sliding off the mattress. Going into the bathroom to freshen up and get dressed for bed. When I returned from the shower, Shaun thanked us, left a heavy tip, and returned, half-dressed and bendy-legged, to his truck.
At least I now knew what was in Shaun's elusive toiletry bag. Apart from the condoms, lubes, dildo, and... gun. I thought we dodged a bullet after seeing that.
"Nice one, Harper! You're a natural, bro," grinned Alex nastily. "... You will sleep well tonight, Eric - 'Preparation H' - Harper. You've earned this!"
Making the Benjamin's, Grant's, and Lincon's rain over my half-naked ass.
< Continued in Part 5 of 5 >
Thank you for reading this story.
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And if your hands are not too dirty from all the cum! ;-)
( C ) StrykerJ - December 2024
