Hypothetical Hitch-Hiker Ch. 02

I smiled at him. "You can keep doing that when you've got my face underneath you."

He looked at me blankly for a moment, still panting, before recognition slowly dawned on his face.

"Oh yeah," he muttered, his voice breathless. "I actually forgot you were going to sniff my butt!"

"I think you were getting a bit carried away!"

He smiled, still catching his breath and with a thin film of sweat forming on his forehead. "You reckon?"

He sat back up on his seat and for the first time I saw how spectacularly thick his erection was, poking out from the waistband of his white shorts with his balls still tucked inside them.

For such an inoffensive young lad who one might assume to be hiding something fairly average in his trousers, his cock was sporting a stunningly hefty shaft. I'd observed when it was in his shorts that it wasn't especially long but I hadn't realised that its girth was so prodigiously fat. It was far too bulky for him even to get his whole hand around. I could imagine many a girlfriend getting quite a surprise when they saw how muff-splittingly wide their cute-looking boyfriend's shlong was.

I said, "Your cock is rather wonderfully thick, Dane."

He smiled at the compliment but then betrayed what was clearly a persistent worry. "Do you think it's too thick?"

"No," I laughed. "Lots of girls will appreciate having someone so - how can I put it? - 'commodious' inside them."

I knew that I certainly would. Just looking at the massive thing, its circumference as wide as a drainpipe, was making my arsehole tingle.

"When I was at school," he said, "my mates used to call me 'Coke can'. I'd tell people it was because my surname's Coburn, but the name kind of emerged in the showers after PE."

I smiled. "My friends used to call me 'Foot long' for similar reasons."

He chuckled and then asked, "How do want to sniff my butt, then?"

Then he laughed at what he'd said and declared: "That wasn't something I ever thought I'd hear myself say!"

I told him to hitch his jeans down a bit and to squat upright on the car seat. In that position he could masturbate himself while I sniffed along the alluring strip of material leading downwards underneath his balls.

"You'll have to open your legs as wide as you can. That way I can get to the... er... goodies!"

He found my euphemistic description of the soiled seat of his shorts quite amusing.

"And you're gonna wank yourself too, aren't you?" he asked, still grinning. "I don't want to be the only one tossing off."

"I fully intend to, Dane."

He looked pleased and nodded.

Then he asked, "Did you ever wank yourself off sniffing the back of your own underwear?"

"Once or twice," I admitted, grossly underestimating the actual incidence.

"When you were my sort of age?"

"No," I replied more honestly. "It's an interest I only recently discovered."

He pulled his trousers down to around his ankles and then sat up on the car seat, positioning himself to squat with his legs wide open as I'd asked him to. He kept his briefs pulled up so I could sniff beneath his balls where the material ran towards his hole, but had his cock poking out from the waistband, still as hard and as thick as when I'd had to pull him away from my briefs.

I noticed that the deep red helmet of it was peculiarly short and stout: its width was actually greater than its length. His slit was so elongated that it almost cleaved his cock-head into two distinct lobes. I could imagine that, when the time came, such an extended opening would be able to deliver a very rapid and abundant outpouring of semen.

He sat as high up against the car seat as he could so that there was room for my head to be pushed between his squatting legs.

With a giggle he asked, "What if I fart?"

I smiled. It was an almost inevitable question given what we were about to do.

"Just don't, please," I replied, in a tone which I hoped would offer no room for ambiguity.

I leaned forwards and started out by sniffing his balls. His scent was so much more attractive for being fresher and stronger. His ball sweat reminded me of the locker rooms at school: they had a richly male odour mixed with faint but distinct traces of piss and semen.

"Do you want me to say stuff to you?" he asked. "Just like you did when it was my turn?"

I nodded, savouring the smell from the damp material covering his scrotum. Right between the mounds of his balls was most fascinating. Here his scent was at its strongest: a wonderful carnival of aromas that brought back surprisingly clear memories of my teens. I was reminded of the changing rooms after PE that we'd just mentioned: to the strong odour of young men's sweaty underwear thrown onto clothes-pegs; to the sharp tang of dribbled urine coming from clammy gussets; to the more intriguing whiff of precum stains and dried-on spunk from some of the more well-worn pairs.

"Sniff my bollocks, man!" he called down to me, before tittering at what he'd just said.

I moaned to encourage him to say more, moving down below his scrotum to sniff at the damper and more odorous material underneath them.

"Sniff the sweat between my legs!" he continued, but this time didn't convey any amusement.

I moved my nose further downwards, along the warm, dank ridge leading from his balls towards his bum, sniffing hungrily as his scent became stronger and more earthy, greatly enjoying the increasing bitter aroma of his underwear as I pushed my face more deeply between his thighs.

I reached for my own briefs and squeezed my cock through the front of them. Dane enjoyed seeing me do that and started wanking himself quite quickly.

"Get your knob out, Rob!" he ordered. "Let's see you tugging it off!"

I did as he'd asked and pulled my large cock out from my briefs. Dane laughed at how well-endowed I was and declared that I had a "fucking massive horse-dick!"

I started yanking my foreskin back and forth and Dane laughed again, perhaps at the sight of an older man masturbating in front of him or perhaps because my technique was so different from what he was used to. His own rhythm sped up on his thicker erection and his wrist started slapping against his thigh again; like a gentle applause to the fun we were having together.

I moved down lower to push my nose between his cheeks, wedging the material of his shorts up into his crack and sniffing at where it had chaffed against his hairy cleft. The smell here was exquisite and my cock swelled in its appreciation, hardening and stiffening in my hand as I wanked it off, the helmet becoming taut and shiny as if to show its approval.

"Sniff my arsehole, man!" Dane called down to me, the smacking of his hand becoming faster as he grew more excited by where my nose was pressing.

I willingly did as he commanded and inhaled deeply from his most flavoursome spot, hearing my heart beating heavily in my ears at how deliciously pungent he was back here, and feeling my cock straining to grow even larger at how excited I was becoming.

Dane pushed forwards and struggled to open his legs more widely, using his free hand to shove my head further between his legs and trying to push my face into his gaping arse crack. He wanted to get my nose and mouth as close as he possibly could to the hole he'd probably never given very much thought to until today.

"Get your nose stuck into my butt!" he called out. "Fucking sniff it, man! Fucking go for it!"

To surprise him, I eased my tongue out of my mouth and worked it between the hem of his underwear and the hairy crack of his right buttock. I found his most sensitive spot quite quickly and ran the tip of my tongue around it.

Dane called out, "Oh, Jesus, yeah! Lick my hole, dude!" and struggled again to reposition himself to give me better access.

Finding he liked being rimmed, I grew in confidence, and pressed my tongue quite firmly against his tight, sticky ring. It yielded and I entered his hot, slimy anus, lapping in and out to stimulate him in one of the most intense ways I knew to be possible.

His masturbatory rhythm stopped and he pushed me back as he yanked down his white shorts.

He called out, "Fucking eat me, man! Lick my arsehole out!"

And then he grabbed my head again and slammed his arse down onto my face, roughly grinding my face into the wet, hairy forest of his gaping crack.

"Lick me out, dude! Come on, eat my butt!"

I did as he was asking of me, feasting voraciously on his crude and intoxicating orifice. I had my tongue burrowing up into his bowels, gently sweeping it back and forth against the soft folds inside his anus and tasting with relish the dribbles of his powerful rectal fluids trickling into my mouth. All the time, I was marvelling at how forthright he was for a novice and making repeated mental notes to remember to give him my phone number when we parted.

He was wanking himself off as fast as he could, his balls slapping against my chin as I rimmed him as deeply and as forcefully as my position would allow. My nose was wedged into his hairy and strong-smelling crack and my tongue was almost completely buried in the tight ring of his virgin hole.

"Come on, fucking suck it!" he called out, through panting breaths. "Suck my arsehole!"

Once again, I did as he was imploring me and, taking my tongue out from his anus, puckered my lips against the puckered ring of his hole. Then I sucked at his entrance like I was drinking milkshake through a straw: drawing out the full, unbridled impact of his arse juices into my mouth and pumping my own cock faster and faster at the sheer pleasure I was experiencing in doing so.

"Ah, yeah!" he shouted. "Fucking wank it, man! Wank your cock off while you suck my arsehole!"

He watched me masturbating my large erection hard and fast, and then had a better idea and told me he was going to do it for me.

I took my hand away from my organ and he replaced it with his, quickly taking up his own rhythm on it. His masturbatory technique was rougher and less refined than mine, but it felt wonderful to have a younger man's hand tending to my swollen erection.

"Your cock feels so fucking hard!" he marvelled. "I can't believe you're so into this!"

I let him wank me for a minute or so, with my mouth still clamped to his anal ring, captivated by how it was steadily becoming inflamed from being so energetically sucked. I was hugely enjoying the feel of his fingers jerking at my foreskin, as awkward was they were, and was becoming more and more excited by things he was calling down to me.

"You are so fucking turned on, dude!" he was gasping. "You are so loving sucking my arse!"

Realising that his own cock was now without stimulation, I pulled back from his arse and from the hand he'd been holding my head with and bobbed my face up above his balls to take a look at it. It was standing upwards with red marks on its thick girth from where he'd been masturbating it. It looked lonely being unattended to and, as much as I had adored licking and sucking his arse, I immediately knew what I would prefer to do.

I craned my neck further upwards and took his thick, stubby shaft into my mouth, sucking his organ as hard as I'd sucked his arsehole to draw out the precum from his elongated slit. In comparison to what I'd just been feasting on from his bum, it tasted blissfully sweet and fragrant and I gulped the dribbles of it down gratefully as I consumed all six inches of his eager erection.

"Ah, yeah!" he cried out. "Suck my fucking root, man!"

And then, groaning in encouragement, he grabbed the back of my head and pushed my face more firmly onto his cock. I took him all - it wasn't difficult to consume his full length but his massive girth was quite a strain on my jaw muscles - and he started thrusting his hard shaft in and out of my lips.

"That's right, mate! Eat my fat knob!" he called out to me, through frantic gasps, holding my head steady while he roughly fucked my face.

Ever since I'd started playing around with guys, I hadn't been especially keen on sucking their cocks. I'd never fully understood the appeal of working a penis with my lips and tongue, and having another man buck his erection in and out of my mouth had always made me feel like I'd been reduced to the role of a masturbatory aid.

However, receiving Dane's thick shaft as he slammed it back and forth turned out to be a far more pleasant activity than any I'd previously experienced. I was fascinated to have such a huge girth over-filling my mouth and prizing my jaw almost painfully open. I loved the feel of having the top of his shaft battering against the roof of my gaping mouth while at the same time the thickly ridged underside slid frantically to and fro along my pinned-down tongue.

If only I could have enjoyed having such a thick cock thrusting so amply up my willing arse!

I allowed Dane to pound in and out of me, both of his hands holding my head as steady as he could in front of his hammering crotch. His balls were slamming roughly against my chin and his pubic hair was ramming back and forth, bristling with each lunge against my nose and into my eyes.

"Suck my fucking cock!" he called out, somewhat unnecessarily: I was already engaged in exactly that had no intention of doing otherwise.

As his hand beat up and down the length of my cock, I worked one of my fingers into his hot, wet arsehole, still slick and swollen from being so extensively rimmed. He moaned with pleasure at the intrusion, and his anus eased open, perhaps without Dane even being aware of it, to willingly draw me into him. His bum seemed to want to feed on my finger, hungrily consuming it and squeezing itself around it, and he grunted at how intense it felt to have his cock sucked and his arse fingered at the same time.

"Come on - work it, Rob! Fucking wank my arse off!"

I slid my finger up and down the length of his tight, slimy chute and he started panting like a sprinter at how incredible it felt. His rhythm against my face rapidly intensified and I wondered if, like me, his excitement was being stoked by the strongly carnal smell coming from his rectum as my finger squelched in and out of it.

"I'm gonna cum, mate! I'm gonna squirt!" he helpfully informed me, just before his hot, salty liquid started splashing against the back of my throat.

I don't know if he'd ever climaxed with a finger sliding in and out of his bum, but a succession of astonished gasps suggested that he hadn't.

I drank down everything he could give me, enjoying how harsh and alkaline this young man's semen tasted and how much more astringent it was than that of older men who I'd previously attended to in this way.

His anus was spasming and convulsing around my finger, kneading it like it was bread dough as the muscles of his bowels enjoyed their own peculiar variant on his orgasm.

He called down to me, "Fucking yeah!" and worked himself against my finger as his cock continued discharging itself into my mouth.

As I was gulping down squirt after squirt of his seed, the irony that I was doing to him what he'd refused to do to the impatient cock of his earlier driver was a source of some amusement. I found myself smiling as I fed on his outpouring of sperm, loving the sensation of it pulsing in surges against the back of my throat, as I remembered how outraged he'd been at the thought of doing exactly what I was doing in return for a lift.

"Wank my arse!" he commanded me, through panting breaths. "Fucking wank it hard!"

I resumed my rapid fingering of his shuddering rectum, wondering if all his orgasms were as copious as this one. I would have to remember to inform him later that one didn't ordinarily 'wank' an arse: one could finger it, yes, or even frig it, but the verb 'wank' wasn't customarily extended to include anal stimulation.

After his climax had subsided, I pulled away from his cock and looked up at his face. He grinned down at me and, to see his reaction, I withdrew my finger from his bum and sniffed it. Finding the smell of it very much to my liking, I licked my tongue back and forth along its sticky shaft and then grinned back up at him to show him how much I appreciated the taste

He laughed to see someone so gratuitously cleaning the finger they'd just had inside his bum and a large dribble of white semen oozed from the stout head of his fat cock as if to offer its own endorsement. I licked that too - as one would lick at a melting ice-cream - and then told him that I was going to eat his arse again.

"Fucking go for it!" he grinned. "I'll wank you off while you do it!"

His hand started roughly yanking my foreskin again and I returned my tongue to the hole my finger had just vacated.

It was in this position, with me lapping at his wrinkled arsehole which had tightened into a post-orgasmic clench, that my own cock started spurting over his clumsily pumping hand.

He laughed as I started cumming - which is always a little off-putting, I find - and immediately took his hand away to start hunting around for a tissue instead of milking my organ until I'd fully spent myself as I would have strongly preferred.

As we were cleaning ourselves up and I was wiping down the gearstick of the car (his own semen having been more efficiently disposed of), Dane's mood seemed to take a downward turn and he steadily became more quiet and sullen. We put the underwear we'd sniffed away in silence and, with him staring broodily out of the passenger window, I reversed out of the space I'd been parked in.

It was black dark by now and the road was deserted as I pulled out of the car park.

"If you're gonna chuck me out, mate, at least take me to the main road," Dane said quietly once we were driving through the forest again.

I glanced over at him, his face lit up eerily in the green glow from the dashboard and with his eyes staring sullenly straight ahead at the road.

"Why would I want to chuck you out?" I asked.

"Now you've done what you probably set out to do when you picked me up," he replied, matter-of-factly.

"I picked you up because you looked cold, Dane. It was you who first introduced the subject of sex into our conversation."

"I didn't!" he retorted, his voice suddenly heavy with emotion. "You were the one who asked to sniff my dirty kecks!"

I smiled over at him, taking the same conciliatory approach that I would use with my son when he was similarly agitated.

"You told me that your previous lift had wanted a blowjob from you. Our chat about what a hypothetical hitch-hiker might offer his driver to thank him for the lift developed, as I remember it, at your insistence."

He went quiet again, glowering ahead of us at the road, his eyes looking more hurt than angry in the cold glow from the dashboard.

I started to wonder if he really did want me to drop him off; if he wanted the excuse to get out of the car for some fresh air and to work through in his own head what he'd just got himself into.

I thought I'd try a different technique.

"If you're not comfortable to be around me, given what we've just done, I'll drop you off at the motorway junction we originally agreed on. Once we're out of the National Park, it's just a few miles before we get there."

He stayed quiet for a good five minutes or so, no doubt weighing up the pros of being dropped off early against the cons of having to wait for another lift. For all he knew, his next driver might make yet further demands in return for a lift.

Eventually, I thought it best to break the silence by saying, "I was actually hoping we could exchange phone numbers, Dane."

"If you think you're gonna get a repeat performance, Rob, you're barking up the wrong tree."

He was trying to sound hostile but the unsteadiness of his voice betrayed that he was still mainly upset.

I glanced over at him and told him, "We both enjoyed what we did - we both went into it very willingly - and there'd be no harm in us meeting up again once you feel ready for it."