Chapter 3
To make better time, Tim had taken a bus to the outskirts of town. The kind of ride he wanted -- a long, overland hop across the desert and up into the Northern California foothills -- he wasn't about to find on the interurban freeways. At last arriving at a likely hitching spot on Highway 14, he chose a curb position just beyond a major intersection where the signal would slow the traffic. Since it was midweek, it was unlikely he would encounter heavy skier traffic bound for Copper Mountain or Snow Bowl. He would have to rely on local ranchers, farmers, and interstate travelers.
Tim had chosen his wardrobe for the road only after careful deliberation. He wore a pair of skin-tight, worn Levi's that clung to his body in all the right places, especially emphasizing his round, perfectly shaped rump. His cock fell down the left side of the jeans, as usual, where the rubbing against the fabric surface had left a clearly defined worn area that emphasized the sexy tool even further. His balls, too, bulged in the tired, close-fitting jeans. The T-shirt with the torn neckline, his denim jacket with the lamb's wool collar, and a pair of dirty sneakers completed his wardrobe. Tim wore no undershorts or socks, and the duffel he carried with him contained only the barest of essentials. He was determined to travel as lightly as he could, the fewer hindrances slowing down his adventure, the better.
Four cars passed the teenager in rapid succession. The fifth vehicle, a pickup truck, approached with a young girl at the wheel. She dropped her sunglasses and looked him over carefully, but didn't slacken her speed. As she drove past and accelerated, Tim decided to shift his balls a bit in his pants, making his prick stand out a little more. He also peeled off his jacket. The intense midmorning sun was warm and felt good as his tattered T-shirt soaked it up.
A big moving van passed, followed by an older sedan crowded with Mexican farm workers. Both vehicles ignored his outstretched thumb. Then an off-road four-wheeler tore away from the traffic signal, approached him and braked to a stop just a short distance away. The canvas top was down and behind the wheel sat a well-tanned youth in a soiled, sweaty work shirt and broad-brimmed hat.
"Hop in, kid!" he shouted, turning casually in his seat and grinning from ear to ear.
"Great!" Tim responded, hurrying up to the jeep and thrusting his duffel in the back. He hopped in beside the young rancher type at the wheel. The driver had curly brown hair sticking out from under his straw hat and a face covered with freckles; he looked nineteen, twenty at the most.
"How far you headed?" Tim asked hesitantly.
"Forty miles or so up the highway, then five miles east over a cow shit trail. Folks got a sheep ranch out there. Where you headed?"
Tim pointed straight ahead through the windshield and shrugged. "Four hundred miles upstate. Headed for Copper Mountain."
"Shit. That's a day's trip. What's your name?"
"Tim. Tim Harding."
The young man at the wheel tore through the gears and had the jeep puffing along at sixty before he looked back again at his passenger. His hazel eyes took the teenager in eagerly, curiously, hesitantly but repeatedly focusing on the revealing bulge in Tim's worn denims.
"My name's Donovan Shawn. My friends call me Dusty." The young ranch boy's palms nervously opened and closed around the wheel. "How old are you, Tim?"
The younger boy resented the question but didn't fight it. He shrugged, slouched down in his seat, and stared vacantly out at the monotonous landscape. "Eighteen," he finally grunted softly.
"What you say?"
"I said eighteen. You got a smoke?"
"Sure. In the glove compartment." Dusty Shawn paused, once more taking in the trim youth next to him. His darting eyes missed nothing.
Tim lit a cigarette, took a long, pretentious pull of smoke and blew it out the side of his mouth. "Just changing scenes. Things got a little hot for me back in the city. Going to bunk awhile with my old lady up north -- maybe get my ass back in school there."
Dusty's eyebrows shot up perceptibly, but he didn't pursue the subject. They drove on for several miles in total silence, the older youth behind the wheel bearing a smug, self-satisfied look. He was sure he'd flushed out some tender, wild game and it was only a matter of time until the tasty meal would be on the table. He reached down and flicked on the radio, then brought his hand back to his crotch and let it rub casually across his balls.
Tim caught the maneuver from the corner of his eye and avoided a betraying grin by taking a quick drag from his cigarette. The young dude beside him was sexy, no dismissing that. The driver's soiled blue work shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing tight, well-contoured biceps, darkly tanned from the high desert sun. His fairly new denim pants, though, weren't skin-tight like Tim's and nowhere near as revealing. Tim wondered what the young rancher had going for him in the cock and balls department. He copped a quick glance past the gear shift and down at his friend's crotch. Nothing super-conspicuous. Not yet.
Other than his father's big dick, Tim hadn't seen too many fully matured adult cocks -- the possessive older Harding had cleverly seen to that. The ranch youth next to him might still be considered a boy, too, but he looked fully developed and was masculine as hell.
As if by some sixth sense, Tim knew something was going to happen, but he wondered if it would have to be himself to initiate the first move. No, that didn't seem right. The freckle-faced dude beside him was older, wiser, and these were his wheels, his territory. His cock, whatever its merits, would have to make the first move.
"You dig sheep?" Dusty asked flatly.
"What?" Tim's tone was one of total bewilderment.
"Sheep! You deaf?"
Tim grinned, rubbed his fly, and broke into laughter. "Shit! You putting me on or something?"
The older youth grinned. "They'll blow your mind, man." He shrugged and pointed to a distant horizon.
Tim followed Dusty's gesturing finger but saw nothing but limitless sagebrush and tundra grass.
"My old man's ranch is out there. Hundred and fifty acres. More Goddamn sheep than you'll ever see in a lifetime. Or fuck."
Dusty Shawn figured correctly that the teenager beside him was fidgeting and uptight about something. Receptive and horny, but nervous as a kitten. Hell, what did he have to lose? If the kid didn't like how he came on, screw him, one way or another! He could walk or find another ride. Smiling thinly, he reached down to his fly and pried apart three of the button rivets on his denims. Then he probed inside with a couple of fingers and found his cock.
Tim looked over and took in the action, his mouth slightly open.
Dusty let his prick fall out on the seat between his legs. Hunching back, squirming his ass, and digging a little more with his fingers, his balls, too, spilled outside his fly. Almost instantly the long, snakelike cock began to swell.
Tim couldn't pull his wide, youthful eyes away from the young rancher's exposed meat. The cock got bigger and bigger, the perfectly shaped oval head swelling until it was a rock-hard knob at the end of a stiff, fat, straight-up shaft. Clearly, Dusty Shawn was possessed with a bull's whang. The prick was narrower, not as fat and thick around as old Sam Harding's, but it was longer, and had a slight curve to it, making it stick up even farther. The shaft, to Tim, looked like an angry boomerang. It also looked hot, dripping with juice and demanding, hungry and itching for action. Dusty's eyes, too, when he looked away from the wad, had taken on a wild, primitive look. Now they were hypnotically fixed on the vowing bulge inside Tim's own jeans.
"You like my tool, dude?" Dusty asked quietly.
"Jesus! It's a big fucker."
"Biggest snake ten miles either direction of the ranch."
"Get much screwing?"
"Hell yes. Can't let a hot cock like this go to seed."
"Guess not." Tim swallowed hard.
"How about you?"
Tim shrugged and felt his cock. It jerked and grew even larger under his touch. "Enough. All I can handle."
"Shit! Guy never gets enough. I bet most of your action is all jackin' off, right?"
Tim didn't answer.
"How many times a day you do it?"
Tim only shrugged. "Often as you do, I figure."
Dusty took one hand off the wheel and began to stroke the big swollen head of his cock. He rubbed it slowly, softly at first, then closed his fist around the hard knob as tight as he could. He squeezed repeatedly, massaging the angry pink head all over, making it even more swollen and hard. His breath came faster and he felt good all over.
"Fuck, man," Dusty said hotly, "I can see you've got a roaring hard-on in your pants. Dig the cock-sucker out like me and give it a little air. No use sweating and getting your britches all wet for nothin'." He pointed to a spot on Tim's crotch. "Shit! Lookit there. Already your fucking sex-juice is leaking on you. Jesus, you're as hot and horny as lam."
Tim needed no more prodding. He quickly unbuttoned his pants and fished out his cock and balls. The end was wet and sticky, ready for action -- any action.
"My prong isn't as big as yours," he offered apologetically, at the same time stroking and stretching his rod, trying for another half-inch or so in length. Still, he could pride himself that it was fatter than Dusty's.
Dusty throttled the jeep back to an even slower speed and several cars passed, impatiently sounding their horns. He was looking for something -- a side road, trail or off-ramp. Almost any place to pull over would do. Taking his eyes off the road briefly, he measured Tim's meat.
"That prick looks plenty big to me. Hell, matter of fact, think I'll call you 'Stud'." He grinned broadly, rubbed his own shaft even more fiercely, then wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Thanks," said Tim, basking in the compliment.
"How about it, Stud? You like that tag, don't you? Christ, I'm hot. We got to get these big pricks off, kid, before the stiff bastards shoot a hole in the sky. No sense wasting good hot jizz on nothing."
"Yeah. Guess you're right."
"Ever swallow a mouthful of hot starch?" Tim's face drew a blank. "What?"
"Sex-juice, dammit. Hot cum, man."
Tim shrugged. "Yeah. Guess so," he mumbled.
Dusty beamed. "Shit, you never seen anybody pap off as much jizz as I squirt. Hold it. Here's a side road we can turn off into. Let's head up behind that big sign on the knoll."
He drove the jeep over a slight embankment and up behind a large highway billboard. The area was heavily rutted with tire marks; others, for whatever reasons, had also sought out the sanctuary away from the busy highway.
Tim's eyes widened and he felt big goosebumps all over as he watched Dusty turn off the jeep's motor and unbutton his shirt. Wordlessly, lips firmly set, the ranch boy quickly tossed it aside and went to work on the big bronze buckle at the top of his denims. Tim watched in fascination as the older youth's muscles danced beneath the deeply tanned skin. He was envious; he wanted a body like that someday. Tightening his grip around his prick, Tim rubbed its throbbing head slowly, deliberately, back and forth against the rough fabric of his Levi's.
"Jesus, Tim, I'm hot as a piston," grunted Dusty as he abruptly shoved his jeans down to his knees and revealed the biggest thicket of pubic hair Tim had ever seen.
"Yeah. Uh, I guess I am, too," replied Tim eagerly.
He felt wild, wild all over. It was a good feeling, not at all like the mixed emotions of curiosity and degradation he had repeatedly experienced back home with his father. He prayed his new companion harbored no similar sadistic inclinations. There was only one way to find out! He, too, quickly doffed his shirt and stripped off his jeans. Turning in the seat, he let his knee fall across Dusty's hairy thigh and swallowed hard. His eyes as wide as an innocent doe's, he gazed at the youth behind the wheel pleadingly, innocently, waiting. His lips were moist, curved in an enigmatic smile.
"Horny little bastard, aren't you?" Dusty asked, but did not wait for an answer.
His broad-brimmed cowboy hat fell to the floor as his head dove frantically for Tim's succulent crotch, his hot, wet mouth quickly devouring the teenager's cock. He sucked it in feverishly, swallowing the young, perfect prick up, all the way to the balls. Tim shivered with excitement and reached around, trying to fondle the older youth's balls, but Dusty pushed him back.
Dusty Shawn was hot. Too fucking hot for words! His hands trembled as they caressed, fondled and rubbed the teenager's body from armpit to asshole and back again. His big balls ached and he knew he could explode with cum at any minute. The kid next to him was beautiful, groovy. Just too Goddamn unbelievably sexy. He sucked harder, expertly, on the generous cock, feeling it grow even bigger, its delicious wet tip pressing against the back of his throat. The boy's sweaty big balls kept slapping back and forth against his chin, driving him to a greater frenzy.
Tim, too, was almost delirious with pleasure. "Suck, suck," he whispered, pushing his hips into the older youth's face. "Goddamn, you've got a hot tongue. I dig it. Ohhhh! Damn!! I want to come so fucking bad!" Lifting his head, Dusty let go of Tim's saliva-covered cock and stared at the teenager with dark eyes as hot as coals. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips and whispered coarsely: "We're going to get it off right fine, Tim. I'm going to suck all the fucking jizz out of you I can and then you're going to get mine." He shook his curly head of hair slowly back and forth, almost menacingly, all the while pinning Tim's shoulders back so hard they ached. "Yesssirrreee, baby, before we get out of here we're going to drown each other in hot cum. You dig?"
Tim nodded. His cock stiffened under Dusty's aggressive, harsh manner. It was hard as a billyclub, standing straight up.
Dusty went back to work on its shaft, feverishly licking Tim's cock all the way from its hairy base to the tip, where he sucked with relish at the warm juice oozing from the silt in the head. Then he pounced for the teenager's crotch and gulped in Tim's steaming balls, savoring, mouthing one sac at a time. He sucked at one ball, then the other, frantically licking and consuming the sweet youthful sweat, the aroma of adolescent musk and sex playing total havoc with his senses.
Tim began to squeal, ever so softly, with pleasure.
Dusty's strong arms pulled Tim forward in his seat in an effort for the older youth to get at the teenager's succulent little asshole with his tongue, but the front of the jeep was too confining. There wasn't room. Not wasting a second, the young rancher was instantly out of the vehicle and dashing nude to the other side. Expertly, skillfully, as though he was subduing one of his own sheep for a clipping, he had the youth flat on his back across the front seat, his legs drawn overhead wide apart, his cock pointing skyward. Dusty could now stand on the ground, get all the traction he needed, and get at every last morsel.
"You going to fuck me?" Tim asked almost pleadingly.
"Later, later."
Tim began moaning. "Do anything you want, man. Eat the hell out of me. Just suck and lick my balls and ass. I love it. You're the greatest!"
Dusty's own sex-juices were percolating hotter and hotter, bubbling up from deep within his muscular workingman's body. His face was flushed as he reached down and ran his eager fingers over Tim's round, perfectly formed ass-cheeks.
"Beautiful," he grunted. "Goddamn beautiful ass." He bit his lip and frowned. "But how the shit you get these red welts across your rump? You been punished or something?"
Tim sighed audibly. "Forget it. Nothing important. I'll tell you later." He dropped both feet, resting them on the ranch youth's broad shoulders.
Dusty didn't pursue the subject. He scanned the abused buttocks once more with curiosity, shook his head, and an instant later his face was back in the teenager's crotch, his time eating and licking with total abandon at Tim's pinched-shut asshole. He licked all around the tender edges, savoring the moist sweat clinging to the tiny threads of hair, then his ravenous tongue forced its way inside the forbidden cavity, probing the inner recesses of its twitching, smooth walls.
Tim lay perfectly still, totally swept up in the ecstatic tingling sensation of the hot, burrowing tongue in his asshole. He moaned softly, the puffing sounds of unabashed pleasure. While his companion rimmed his tender asshole, Tim stoked his cock from top to bottom, his fingers wrapped around it so tightly it almost pained him.
"Shit, Dusty, I could let you eat my bung-hole all day it feels so good!"
The older youth ate at the hole for a full minute more, then withdrew his tongue, stood back, and wiped his saliva-dripping face with his arm.
"Best ass I ever ate, too," he mumbled, at the same time thrusting his hips up against Tim's rump and sliding his long prick right alongside the teenager's.
He worked up several mouthfuls of spit and coated both hunks of meat with it until they were oozing wet and slippery from top to bottom.
Gently, slowly, he worked the saliva back and forth over both shafts, rubbing them tightly against each other.
"Feel fuckin' good?" Dusty asked gruffly.
Tim's only response was a low, guttural groan of pleasure.
The ranch youth brought his other hand to play. With both fists, he wrapped his long slender fingers around both shafts, squeezing them together with all his strength until the spit oozed through his fingers. Both youths winced at the pain. Slowly at first, then faster, he worked the stiff, excited cocks back and forth, rubbing them harder and harder against each other with his clenched fists. The big, glistening heads chafed and throbbed with alternate spasms of pleasure and pain; both youth's bodies shook all over with excitement.
"Balls!" shouted Tim. "Oh, shit, I'm going to pop off, man! I can't wait! Suck the mother! Get your tongue around my cock!"
"Later, baby, later," grunted Dusty, continuing his relentless, clenched strokes on the two pricks. "I'm coming, too, you horny, beautiful little sonofabitch! Too fucking excited. Oh... shit! Shittt!"
They shot off. Together, like two angry volcanoes erupting at the same time.
"Godamighty! Love it!"
The warm white cum gushed up, splattering into the air and onto Tim's stomach and chest. The two throbbing, stiff cocks shot again and again, spewing forth load after load of sticky jizz, great gobs of it.
Dusty's face bore a tortured expression; his young partner's eyes were closed tight, his full red lips trembling with each diminishing ejaculation. Both nude bodies shivered and shook from head to toe.
His energy drained, the ranch youth pulled away and sat on the ground opposite the jeep. "Fuck," he snapped, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm thirsty. Toss me one of those cans of beer in the back."
Tim sat up in the seat, looked down with unconcern at the gobs of white cum streaming down his chest, then searched for something to wipe himself off with.
"Forget it," Dusty said. "I'll taking it off in a minute. Just get me the Goddamn beer."
Tim gazed down at his chest and stomach, then back over to his friend sprawled on the sandy soil. The older youth pointed to his tongue, then rolled it across his lips as he eyed the river of jizz on Tim's body.
Tim shrugged and poked around in the back seat of the jeep until he found a six pack of beer.
"Help yourself," Dusty offered.
Tim tossed a can to his friend, then opened one for himself. He was thirsty and the cool liquid felt good as he greedily sloshed it down. Dusty, he noted, took only a couple of swigs from his can. Already the older youth was on his feet and approaching him; his cock, no longer stiff as a board and pointed straight out, was, nonetheless, still a formidable weapon as it swung back and forth between his legs.
Dusty grabbed Tim's shoulders and pulled the teenager's face into his furry chest. He ran his fingers through the youth's brown locks, teasing them.
"You know, kid, I really get off on you. Hope you're not in any hurry to get up the road. I got some ideas for a little fun. What do you say?"
Tim shrugged.
"Only take a couple of hours or so -- maybe less."
Tim nodded in approval, then pulled back, still uncomfortable over the sticky flood of cum on his chest.
"So big deal," said Dusty, scowling slightly. "Forget the fuck-pudding! Hell, nothing like dessert after a meal." He dropped his head and began licking the sticky cum off the youth's chest and stomach.
Tim got off on the sensation, especially when his companion ran his tongue over and around his tight little nipples. The feeling was instant electricity and his cock stirred again. Dusty made good his interest in dessert by swallowing every drop of his own and Tim's jizz.