Introduction
All feedback is welcome. Please let me know what you like about this, or not!
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web site to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author. As is clearly indicated in the story, the use of the word "boys" refers here to two short, effeminate men in their mid-20s.
Part 2: On the Road
We finished loading up the car. I was driving, Harry wanted to sleep so went in the back. I shoved Lucio in there with him, putting Julien up front with me.
I pulled out of the campsite, headed off down the long, straight, dusty road leading eventually to the city.
Harry closed his eyes immediately, but I could see in the rear-view mirror, Lucio kept his eyes on the big guy for several long minutes. In the past two hours, Harry'd dragged Lucio across the ground, fucked him in the dirt, pushed him around and spat on him. You couldn't say they were friends. But, still, it was obvious from the long, gay stares, Lucio was still hot for him.
And, soon, he kind of got the Harry he wanted. Tired out by everything that had happened to him that morning, eventually Lucio started to doze off, slumping against Harry in the middle of the back seat. Without thinking, Harry clutched the boy tight to his chest, holding him like a teddy bear. As the thick arms closed around him, I saw Lucio wake up briefly and blink in happy surprise before he fell fully asleep too.
In the front, my conversation with Julien was dull. I asked him a few dad questions about uni, exams and jobs. He answered with one or two words, intimidated by me. After a while I let him fall asleep too.
The road was totally empty, flat. I was bored, and horny. Now I'd decided I was going to fuck the boy, it was all I could think about: getting off, shooting my load up a warm hole after weeks of nothing but wanking. My dick was hard and poking out the top of my shorts. I took my hand off the wheel and rubbed it a bit, releasing a powerful wave of unwashed dick stink into the closed car.
But if we were going to get to the city that evening there was nothing for it: I had to keep on driving. I put some music on low, tried to think about something other than fucking.
After a couple of hours we were leaving the desert, there were a few more houses and people about. Things were a bit greener. It was lunchtime and I pulled over for a break, woke my passengers up. A woman by the roadside sold us cans of coke, fruit that might have been oranges, and some sort of dry bread cake thing. She directed us down a side road to a lonely picnic site, next to a pile of tall rocks with a view over the landscape.
The boys cut up and shared out the food we'd bought. After eating, I needed a piss and walked off behind the car a little way. Julien came with me to do the same, lining up next to me like a boy beside his dad, regularly glancing over at my bigger cock. Unsurprisingly he only managed a few drops, before he started to stiffen up.
"Put it away if you're not going to piss." I told him. "I don't want to see it." But I let my own dick hang out after I'd finished. I definitely wanted to use the boy's ass in a nice comfortable hotel room, but it struck me that feeding him a bit of dick now would ease some of the tension I was feeling. Luckily, Harry and Lucio had disappeared somewhere so it was just me and the boy and a nice soft patch of grass.
I dropped my shorts and pushed him down onto his knees in front of me. I didn't need to tell him what was going down and he stared, gaping, dribbling like a retard, as I stroked my dick inches from his face. It's a nice sight for a gay boy: veiny, hooded, fat rather than long. Properly fat - good to stretch any bitch's mouth or cunt.
Julien opened his mouth wide to suck me. But he wasn't getting it yet. Instead I pushed his head past my dick, onto to my balls, into the hair and sweat. I'd not showered for eight days. He could have suffocated in there with all the ball sweat stench. But he went at it happily, lapping at and sucking my bollocks - hanging low in the heat - like an obedient puppy. He burrowed deep between my legs, started probing, licking and tickling the most sensitive parts underneath my ball sack, between my balls and my legs.
He was good, he'd obviously had plenty of practice. I realised he might be quiet and shy, but Julien was just as much a slut as the other boy.
After a few minutes I pulled him off my balls. I held him by the hair, letting the little slut strain for my dick, desperate to get it into his mouth. Instead of giving it him, I pulled my foreskin fully back, let him look at it, smell it. I rubbed the head of my dick onto his cheeks, round his eyes, under his nose, marking him with my pre-cum and dick cheese.
Eventually I eased it between his lips, opening his little mouth wide round the broad head. I held it just inside him for a while, letting him tongue over the slit, clean under my foreskin.
And then I started to face fuck him. I straddled my legs wide and grabbing his head firmly with both hands to keep it steady, I ground my dick fully into him, getting as far as I could into the back of his throat. He choked on it a bit, but he took it.
I went at it hard: the boy knew what he was doing, kept his teeth out of the way. It was just like a super smooth, well lubricated fuck.
Soon, I couldn't think of anything else but that warm wet mouth. My hips were bucking, forcing my cock into the boy at the same time as I skewered him onto it with my fists. I was certainly giving him plenty of pre-cum to taste and twice, though I didn't fully shoot my load, I knew I'd put a good dose of real cum into him as well.
I needed to pace myself, didn't want to nut now. I took a few deep breaths, looked at the horizon, then back down, focused on my tanned, hairy thighs, the muscles taut as I pushed myself into the gagging, dribbling bitch. I felt pretty happy with life.
And then, from several metres away, the sound of Lucio yelping, and Harry shouting first at Lucio, and then for me, "Hey get over here." My urge to shoot down Julien's throat vanished completely as I struggled to guess what confusion my oversized travelling companion was causing now.
I pushed Julien off me, left him curled up, gasping for breath on the ground.
And as I wandered over in the direction of the shouting, my dick deflating, I wasn't too frustrated that the face fuck had been interrupted. I'd cum a bit into the boy and that had just taken the edge of my horniness. In fact, it was perfect - I'd be full and ready when I used him that evening.
Harry and Lucio had gone away from the car in the other direction. I found them behind a small clump of trees. Unsurprisingly, Harry had his cock out. Lucio was kneeling on the ground, his t-shit wet. His mouth was tightly closed.
Harry, looked at me, frowned. "Bitch won't drink my piss." Like it was the most unreasonable thing in the world.
"What am I going to do about it."
"You know how to talk to girls."
"About drinking your piss?! Fuck man. If you want him to do it, just hit him. You know how to do that."
He shrugged. "I'm not a violent man." That wasn't really true but, anyway, Harry just walked off and left me to it. And I guessed, for the sake of a quiet life, it was probably easiest just to sort the situation out. I could bully the boy into agreeing to whatever Harry wanted to do to him.
Lucio looked at me, angry but a bit hopeful, like I might help him. "I said I taste a little, little bit of his pee. Then he pissed all on me and says I must swallow it."
I grasped the boy's hair, luckily still dry, pointed his head in the direction of Harry. "You want that? You want to be fucked by him again? You want to have another little sleep on his chest?"
We both looked over at Harry, scraggy hair and gingerish beard, lanky (he's got plenty of muscle but he's too tall so it doesn't look as good as mine), in his food- and wank-stained vest, shorts and filthy boots. He was scratching his balls with one hand and trying to fish something out of his ear with the other. He hadn't bothered putting his cock away and it hung limp over the waistband of his shorts.
It was hard for me to see the appeal, but I guess I'm not an Italian faggot. The boy gulped, muttered, "Yes."
"Then" I said, smacking his face with each word. "You...do...everything...he...says..."
"This isn't like your little boyfriends where you drink prosecco in bed and lick each other's tiny cocks. You're his bitch, whatever he wants to do, you take it and you say thank you."
"You don't have to do this. You can get your bag and get a bus from the roadside. But you'll never see him or his dick again. And you'll spend the rest of your life thinking about how much more of his cum you could have had inside you."
It was fucking poetry.
"You men only want make me a pig, like you," the boy whined. Then sighed, "OK."
"Take those stinking clothes off and open your mouth."
He did it. He didn't even try to stand up, sitting and wriggling in the dirt to take his shorts off, and pulling the soaked t-shirt over his head. Then he knelt there, naked, mouth wide open, waiting.
I shouted to Harry, "Ok, urinal's open...."
I started walking away but Harry pulled me back. Like always, he wanted an audience.
Posing a bit, flexing his muscles, tugging on his cock to get the flow going. he began by giving the boy a shower over his hair, face and chest. The pressure soon built and he was using his dick like a fucking high pressure hose to wash the boy down in his piss. It ran off Lucio's short hair, over his face and down his smooth white chest and broad nipples.
It was sketchy shit, but weirdly hot, seeing the pretty blond boy kneeling in the mud, naked, soaked, stinking.
Harry paused, and then lined up for the next burst, standing with his foreskin almost resting on Lucio's lip. So the next half pint or so went straight inside the boy. It must have tasted terrible: it was the middle of the day in a hot climate and I could see the piss was dark yellow in Lucio's open mouth. He managed to swallow four, maybe five, mouthfuls.
The next mouthful he gagged on. He spat some of it back over Harry's crotch and shorts. That was a mistake. Harry kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling into the wet mud at his feet. He put a boot on Lucio's wet bare chest and kept him down on the ground. Stood over him, aimed his dick straight down and drained the last warm contents of his bladder directly into the boy's face.
It was hard to think of anything more humiliating, but somewhere inside him the bitch had enjoyed it. His little cock was rock hard. Once he'd scrambled back onto his knees, I walked over and kicked his prick back and forth a bit with my boot. "You like all this, don't you?"
"Fuck off," he responded but didn't dare look me in the face.
We headed back to the car, Lucio walking ahead of us, naked, muddy, holding his sodden clothes, his trainers squelching. When we got there he went in his bag, grabbed a towel, t-shirt and shorts. Harry stood watching him. He let the boy dry himself, but then grasped his arm and effortlessly took the dry clothes off him, pushing him naked into the car.
We set out, back on the road. Lucio curled up, naked, into the corner of the back seat. He stared out of the window, saying nothing. Harry went back to sleep.
After another two hours of driving we met a main road. The smog of the city was visible in the distance. There were more cars, roadside shacks selling food, tyres and cheap souvenirs. And then, a police inspection roadblock.
Fuck and we had a naked gay slut in the back.
"Jesus, Harry, nice job," I said.
I glared at all three of them. "Nobody say anything. I'm the only one who's going to talk."
A policeman, or possibly soldier, guided us into a siding, came up the car and asked for our passports. He didn't look friendly. He was nearly as tall as Harry, dark skin glistening under sunglasses, in military fatigues, hand cuffs, baton and gun at his belt.
I got out, handed the passports to him, he checked them, handed them back. He was about to let us go and then, peering inside the car, asked, "Why is that individual naked?"
He opened the car door next to Lucio. "Out."
Lucio just looked afraid, didn't move, so the policeman dragged him out by the ear and stood him against the car. Lucio covered his balls and dick with his hands. The policeman knocked his hands aside. He looked curiously as Lucio's cleanly shaved white chest, at his dick now shrivelled with fear almost entirely back into his body.
I thought fast. "He's having some mental health problems." "He err... urinated over himself and removed his clothes." It was weak, but at least the smell coming from the boy confirmed the story.
The cop nodded and I think I would have got away it.
But then, a thick trickle of Harry's cum from that morning rolled slowly down the boy's thigh. His asshole must have loosened up with fear.
The cop saw it. "Turn around." Putting his broad hand on the boy's back, he crushed him against the car. He ran his stick over Lucio's arse and, pushing it slightly into the crack, pulled it open to inspect the anus. The hole was still wet, red, obviously well used.
He looked at me, "This is a country where we believe in God. Homosexual actions are very much not allowed in our law or culture."
"You will pay a fine for offending our public morality with this crazy naked young man. But the crime of homosexuality requires arrest."
My only hope was that there was room to negotiate.
I leant back into the car, found the two fifty dollar notes the boys had given us to pay for the trip and shoved one of them in my passport. I politely handed it back to policeman.
It was the right thing to do, but not enough. He looked at me, smiled for the first time. "Bring me the boy's passport too." Back to the car. Julien handed me Lucio's passport and I put the other $50 in it.
That did it. The cop opened the car door and, using his baton, shoved Lucio in. "Find him some clothes," he ordered Harry.
And, now paid, the cop abruptly became our friend. "I'm Moses," he told me and shook my hand.
Moses was pretty chatty. All thought of arresting us forgotten, he told us about the best places to visit in the city, where his family lived. At the end of the conversation he scribbled something on a piece of paper, passed it to me. "If you need somewhere to stay, my cousin Edgar is like you," he looked at me meaningfully. "And he has very nice hotel."
I didn't like that the cop assumed I was queer. But on the other hand, a hotel where they wouldn't care what we were doing to the boys was a good idea.
We set off back down the road. My relief at leaving the police inspection soon turned to anger as I remembered the money we'd just lost. I turned to the boys. "You realise you owe us another $100?" I reached over and punched Julien lightly in the side of his chest until he said "yes" reluctantly.
"How are you going to pay us?"
Harry knew where I was going. He yawned and then said, "No girl has ever rimmed my sweaty arsehole. Or let me put my belt round her neck while I fuck her."
It was clear what he was thinking about. Everything he'd seen in porn that he wanted to do to a bitch and had never done.
I looked back at Lucio and over at Julien. "We've got probably an hour before we get to the hotel. Harry's going to explain how you'll be paying us back when we get there."
Part 3: Locked up in a hotel with our heroes, how bad can it get for the boys?