Driver Reliever Ch. 02

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Revived permanently, by the perfect career move.
4k words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/26/2007
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shabbu
shabbu
122 Followers

"Jake, you're on," I said into the invisible mike. Sending Jake, the young blond ex surfer who I was assured was 20 but who definitely looked underage, off into the reception area of a driver reliever centre - somewhere in Colorado.

I sat back, keeping an eye on the equipment and occasionally turning to watch the visuals. The guys were all on the ball today and it was too early for the Australian rush and past the peak of the US one, so my work was done for a few minutes. Driver Reviver centres are really starting to take off in the US now, they aren't just Australian any more, and we are putting driver reliever centres into the reviver centres as fast as we can roll them out.

I focused again on the scene in the rough dockside barroom that existed in some US driver reliever centre and my hand took up stroking where it had left off. Yes, I like my work I thought as I watched the three muscular, hairy bodies perform, one holding the lean young client up in front of him as he pounded into his ass, while another was sitting back with the client's legs wrapped around his shoulders as he sucked on the client's surprisingly long dick. The third beefy guy was jacking off as he watched, waiting to attempt a double entry into the client's rear. It was what the client fantasised and had come for I knew, as my other hand roamed around my lightly tanned and increasingly muscular chest and tweaked a nipple. My chest was getting quite hard I suddenly realised, all the gym work and sex I was getting in my new job, I thought with a smile.

And I shuddered, as for some reason I momentarily recalled what my life had been like only 6 months before. And I remembered how my journey to where I was had begun only 18 months before.

It was my proving that the myth of what lay hidden in an ordinary Australian, New South Wales, Driver Reviver centre was in fact true, (see Driver Reliever Ch 01) that had started it all. Or ended it all, was perhaps a better way to put it. Ended my old life.

Yes, that first time I had entered the secret world of the driver reliever centre hidden inside one of the common old portable fibreglass toilet units provided at the reviver centre, had opened a new world for me.

It had been the summer school holidays and as we were all warned to 'stop, revive, survive' every two hours by the Roads and Traffic Authority. And they in collaboration with the Lions Club had set up the Driver Reviver station at the end of the F3 freeway as usual, and it was in full swing. But at this stop one of the portable toilets was not as innocent as it seemed. I had heard tales, and I had come to prove them nothing but myths. Instead I had wound up weak kneed and wondering how soon I could return.

Yes. I was definitely weak kneed as I rejoined my wife, Fiona, my son, Andrew and my daughter in law, Angela, and was handed my 'free' Driver Reviver station coffee - courtesy of the Lions club, and a gold coin donation - after an apparently brief visit to one of the Driver Reviver station portable toilets.

I discovered that my first visit to the driver reliever centre in the toilet cubicle that wasn't ordinary, had only taken a few minutes in the real world of the regular 'free coffee' Driver Reviver station. The hunk in there had told me time and space meant nothing inside that portable unit, H093. And it was true. So I was thinking about how soon I could return to the Driver Reviver centre and how often I could visit unit H093.

As I was pondering this important question my daughter-in-law, Angela, moaned loudly, "I feel sick."

All heads turned their attention to her, that is, her doting husband and my equally doting wife suddenly had thoughts of nothing else. I sighed. My daughter in law often claimed she felt ill, but the illnesses always mysteriously passed after she had received a suitable amount of attention.

My wife Fiona, and our son Andrew, helped Angela back to the car. There she sat in the back seat being fanned by her husband as my wife ran off to get more free tea and some food, and also cold water. It looked like they were settled in for a while. I was unnecessary as usual. I often felt I was unnecessary in my family, Fiona was a keen lawn bowler, and as one of her clubs stars she was out bowling more than she was at home.

So grabbing the unexpected opportunity of Angela's illness, I told my son I felt a bit queasy again, and would have to go again. He seemed to take note, but basically ignored me. Which was fine with me. I hurried off, back to portable toilet number H093 and climbed the steps and opened the door and went in.

It had gone!

No. Seriously. I mean, I was in shock. Because now H093 had nothing but a fibreglass toilet and hand-basin unit inside it. I staggered back out and checked the number on the side of the unit. Yes, it was H093, and in the same place I was sure. I stood there confused, and yes, disappointed. On my earlier visit I had hurried the greatest fuck of my life and been out as soon as I could, worried about time, and convinced my wife and family would have been searching the car park for me already.

Now I had missed my chance to really enjoy that fuck. Perhaps forever, I groaned.

I returned to my family feeling desolate, and stood by in a haze as Angela was revived, and then Fiona was being busy and shouting, " Neil, wake up, it's time to go, god you're useless," .

Well it went from bad to worse after that. Angela it turned out was pregnant, which had me liking her for a while. My first grandchild, I thought proudly. But then Andrew got a transfer up the coast to Foster, which he said was somewhere safer and better for raising a child. Well I couldn't argue, Sydney had it's problems that was for sure. But of course Angela couldn't manage on her own so Fiona decided to go up to Foster for the week and come home on weekends. I had about got used to that when my wife decided the drive was too much, and her bowling was suffering. And also Angela was nearly due, so Fiona said she'd have to stay up there. I'd have to drive up to them on the weekends she decided. So I did.

God, it nearly killed me. Working all week then heading straight off on a four hour drive to Foster every Friday night, sitting in my sons house trying to keep out of the way. Because I found that Fiona was almost never around, as she even more serious about her lawn bowls in Foster than she had been in Sydney. And then I had the same drive home on Sunday. It was killing me, and I knew it wasn't ending soon when the baby came and Fiona got a small flat of her own and started talking about her friends at the bowls club, especially about her girlfriend Jackie, whom I never met. The baby was cute, a boy, and for a moment I was full of pride and excitement. But I was hardly allowed to touch him, because according to Angela he seemed to be almost permanently poorly.

Then it was summer again and the traffic was getting worse every weekend. A four hour trip was now taking me five hours and I shuddered to think how long it would take around Christmas.

But then it happened; one Friday evening I saw the Driver Reviver centre at the end of the F3 was open again. I had not given it any thought. I had been too busy and too tired. But there it was, a beacon of welcome and revival, and I pulled in and parked. And heaved a sigh of relief.

And I wondered in a rush if unit H093 was there again. I nervously got out of my car and staggered to the line of cubicles like a zombie. Hoping like mad, but half dreading finding it there.

But it was there. Portable toilet unit H093. I closed my eyes and wished that it would be as I remembered it inside, open and welcoming.

As I stood on the dirt at the foot of the steps the door of the portable unit opened and a man emerged. Before he could let the door fall closed I pushed past him and inside, and I shook with relief to see the small foyer again, and a naked man standing there examining the head of his cock. It was a different man though, a blond this time, and his cock was only half engorged.

"Hello again," he said, looking up at me, "You look exhausted Neil."

I didn't bother wondering how he knew my name, or anything, I was just incredibly grateful and glad he was there.

"Yes, I am exhausted," I replied, "But you are here and this time I know I don't have to hurry. I didn't have time to get properly relieved the first time, I was so worried about the time, but when I tried to come back you . . . you were gone."

He shrugged, "Relief is provided when most needed. And I'm sure Ted told you that time, like space, means nothing here?" he queried, smiling.

"Yes. Yes, he did," I replied, thinking of Ted, "And now I believe him. And to be honest I'd like to stay in here forever, if it's half as good as last time."

And I knew I had said something that was true. My life was empty, and deep down I knew that my wife Fiona had moved on and now had another life, and that neither she nor my son would really care if I disappeared.

" Can I get a job here, work here, not like you do, but don't you have anything behind the scenes?" I was rambling and to myself I sounded slightly desperate.

He frowned, "Hum. I'll ask while you are being relieved. You know the score Neil, pick a man," he said, waving his arm so the screens around the walls lit up.

I scanned them for my previous companion, Ted, but couldn't see him. And I didn't want to annoy this new man, who wasn't really my type, so I quickly chose a huge muscular, horse hung guy with dark curly hair, whose hard, jutting cock must have been nearly 10 inches long, if not very thick.

The receptionist waved a hand and in a moment my selection stepped out of the passageway in front of me.

"Follow me, Neil," he said, in a businesslike way.

And I did. Gladly. I trotted after him as he strode along, his big round butt cheeks working in such a mesmerising way that I was hard and dripping by the time I realised he wanted me to pick a door, like last time. I stopped at the nearest. And he opened it and we stepped through.

It was a jungle, literally. Lush vegetation surrounded us, a few streams of filtered light drifted across my companion's muscular torso and birds called raucously in the background, while a screeching monkey swung through the canopy above us.

My mouth dropped open in amazement at it all, as I was pushed to my knees by my companion, who now reminded me of Tarzan. A muscular, horse hung Tarzan, who was keen on feeding me his huge club into my amazed mouth.

And I was just as keen on taking it. I circled the rim of his cock head with my lips and worked my tongue over it, then into his slit, as I gripped the rest of his tool in both hands. I had never had anything so huge in my mouth before, or anywhere else. I was slurping on him and throbbing myself as I ran a hand to his huge balls and stroked the soft skin with its smattering of course black hair.

Then Tarzan pulled my head back and pulled me up by my hair. There were vines hanging close by and he tugged at one before he wound it about my waist and looped it around again. Then he tipped me sideways and upside down and I hung there suspended in the vine, my face at his cock and my hands holding it steady as I was swallowing its dark round helmet head again.

But Tarzan had also positioned my cock at his mouth and I hung there with my thighs resting on his shoulders as he swallowed me completely. I gulped and choked on his rod, as he sucked me in, then popped me out of his strong, pulsing mouth. He was sucking on my tool and swirling his tongue around it like nothing I had ever felt before. I was groaning, and grunting, and gulping, and my body was jerking about as he sucked me off, and soon my cum spouted down his throat in wild bursts as I shuddered and shook and got dizzy, trapped in the vine.

As it went limp my dick plopped out of Tarzan's mouth, but he went searching between my thighs and soon found my asshole with his tongue, while his fingers found my balls. I was grunting and moaning again, as he tongued my ass, swirling about my rim and pushing that long tongue inside me. I gave up sucking him and took to licking his balls and just enjoying what he was doing to me as my hands stroked his huge cock.

I cried out and kicked about as he pushed his huge fingers into my passage, my rim twitching and loosening as he stroked about just inside my entrance. I was moaning and so lost in what he was doing to me and filling my mouth with his nuts that I hardly realised he had sunk three or more fingers in me. I moaned and writhed feeling sudden pain.

But just then he flipped my thighs off his shoulders, and turned me about in the coils of the thick creeper he had wound around my waist. He flipped me till I was upright again, facing him with my hips level with his huge tool, Then he let the creeper hold me up and just put his hands under my thighs and lifted them wide and apart. I got the hint and wrapped my legs around his waist and looked down at the huge spear he was holding ready to impale me on.

I gulped at it's huge size and moaned, "No, no, I can't," as I saw it getting closer to my hole.

I was yelping in pain and staring in fascination as his cock head disappeared inside me, almost splitting me. I tried to wriggle free, but I just rocked about in the embrace of the thick vine. Swaying back and forth. And my writhing and twisting opened me wider and let Tarzan's cock work in further, as I yelped and cried out that I had never had anything so big trying to get inside me.

"I know," said Tarzan in a low rumble, "And you have got the tight ass to prove it. But by the time you leave here your ass will never be the same again."

I gulped and reached up and gripped the vine, trying to raise myself up off the huge club sinking into me. I managed to lift myself for a moment but then my hands slipped and my ass dropped down and I was speared a good inch deeper, and I screamed, "You are splitting me!" again, as I tried to lift myself up and off him again.

"You'll be fine," my Tarzan rumbled.

I wasn't sure he was right though, and pulled myself up the vine, before my hands slipped again and my ass dropped even further down his hard pole. I cried out in pain as he fisted my cock to ejaculation and my ass spasmed and rode his cock even lower. I was moaning now in disbelief at taking so much of him in, and the start of a feeling of being stuffed as I never had been before. Then I yelped and cried out as he finally sunk that huge club of his to it's limit inside me, and his pubic hair was kissing my ass.

I looked down at his pubes resting against my butt and moaned. But yes, I realised, I wanted to be as full as he was making me.

So I threw back my head and cried out, just like I remembered doing as a kid when I was playing at being Tarzan, and I panted and moaned as I tried to pull him in deeper with my legs wrapped around his waist. He was grinning widely and just pushed me back so his pole slid out of me part way, which was almost as painful as his pole going in. But it was my legs that pulled him back in to the limit, wanting that totally filling fuck to go on and on.

I slowly opened enough for him to start pumping me and then I just hung back in the vines twists, and let him rock my body back and forth on his pole. The image of being suspended above the ground in vines with that hunky Tarzan standing between my thighs and just swinging me back and forth on his stiff, long, thick prick was driving me wild. Him grunting at the exertion, his muscles rippling. Me helplessly entwined in the vines, begging him at first to slow down, to give me more time, not to thrust so deep and hold himself inside me to the root so long. Him laughing and thrusting deeper and rotating his hips, pressing me everywhere inside.

Then me letting out a long moan, arching my back, and giving into him completely, crying to him now that I can't get enough of him. Bucking against him as he gets wilder and thrusts, thrusts, thrusts. His eyes capturing mine. Telling me that he can continue this almost endlessly, and he does. Bucking, thrusting, moaning, groaning.

" Yessssssssssss." I screamed at last, throwing my head back. My cream spouting into the steamy jungle atmosphere and landing on his arms and my chest.

We were making so much noise, we were attracting the young, virile, nearby tribesmen. My eyes had been seeing nothing but the occasional flash of sunlight and the dense canopy of the trees overhead. But then my head flopped back and I saw one. A lithe bronze figure emerging from the trees and moving towards us. I rolled my head and saw another, and another, and moaned. They were in the jungle, partly hidden, but touching themselves and each other as they watched Tarzan plowing me. I moaned and Tarzan laughed as he continued to swing me back and forth.

Then the tribesmen were standing about us stoking each others peices and themselves, playing thier hands over their bellies and tweaking their nipples, talking and laughing as they watched. Tarzan grunted to them, and then, with his permission .. . .

I was laid back then, suspended in the vines with my head now level with my butt where Tarzan was standing between my thighs rocking me back and forth in a regular rhythm. The first of the five now fed his manhood into my gaping mouth and I began to suck it greedily as Tarzan finally flooded my insides with his cum, flooding me in great hot bursts.

The first tribesman's cock was pulled from my lips, and I heard myself shouting. "I want to stay here forever." As I reached for the hips of the next man, my body still swinging in the vines, but my hole being emptied by Tarzan to be filled immediately by the virile young native whose cock had just left my mouth.

I fountained again across the damp jungle floor as the last native finally fountained deep inside me, my channel swimming in cum.

When the last native pulled out of my channel my legs flopped down and cum ran down my inner thighs, as he stroked his cock clean over my thighs and hips and across my back.

Then Tarzan showed he could still make me feel I was being stretched, still make me cry out, as he plowed me one last time. Finally he unwound the vine from around my body and I dropped down onto the spongy floor of the jungle, totally spent.

Tarzan looked down at me smiling, and said, "Times up," reaching down a hand to me.

"I never want to leave here," I said, looking up at him. "Never."

Tarzan just laughed and pulled me upright. I stood on shaky legs wondering if I would ever walk properly again and staggered behind him as a door opened in the air, and we stepped back into the narrow dim corridor of the driver reliever centre.

Suddenly I was dressed again, but I could still feel cum running out of me, tickling me as it trickled down my inner thigh, and I wandered in a daze through the foyer.

"Hey, Neil. Stop," a voice cried out and someone grabbed my arm. I turned around and there was Ted, talking to me, saying "We've been considering your application Neil, and it seems you have scheduling and customer service experience."

"Um. Yes. Why?" I said confused.

My mind I'm afraid was totally fucked and still not out of the vines.

Ted smiled. "Well it looks like we have a vacancy for a man of your talents," he said. "But as you know, space, like time, means nothing here. The catch with working here is that if you stay and take the job you can never leave."

"Oh," I was still fuzzy in the head. " You are saying I stay here for ever, if I stay here? Um. Do I get a trial? What if it doesn't work out? What about my family?"

"You have to give that all up Neil. You get one chance to join us, and if you do, that is it. But we don't make offers to just anyone. We look at it very seriously, and we are very careful who we hire."

shabbu
shabbu
122 Followers
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