ELVIS & THE TROLL By John Candu
I was hanging out at my favorite park looking for action one afternoon when a red BMW cruised by slow enough for the driver and I to make eye contact. He was wearing sunglasses despite the fading light and looked to be around 20. He had abundant jet-black hair with long sideburns.
I'd just seen Elvis.
He drove by my car slowly and turned around at the dead end and then parked the Beamer about 20 feet behind me near the bathrooms. Other cars cruised by with often familiar faces behind the wheel, and I occasionally nodded or held up a hand in acknowledgment.
Elvis didn't move. He was watching me but apparently uncertain how to proceed. I tapped my brake lights twice and he flashed his headlights. Ah! Hope at last! He got out and walked nonchalantly toward the wooded trail. As he stepped past my car I got a better look.
My young Elvis was still wearing sunglasses and seemed as nervous as a burglar discovering he'd broken into a police station by mistake. He kept looking over his shoulder and around the park as if to make sure he wasn't being followed. Elvis was around 5' 10" and lean, maybe 150 pounds. He wore a blue dress shirt, and a pair of two-sizes-too-small gray pants that must have been spray-painted on because they were surely too taut to slip on. They revealed a handsome basket and lovely butt. He was wearing no belt and no underwear lines were visible. My dick stirred to life.
As he neared the trail entrance our eyes met again and I got out of the car. He entered the wooded area and by the time I got to the entrance I found him waiting for me a few yards ahead. Seeing me, he turned and slowly trekked up the incline. I followed, purposely not catching up with him too soon, but hanging back a few yards. He kept looking over his shoulder to make sure I was there. The light under the tree canopy was getting darker, so he finally took off the sunglasses after stumbling a couple of times.
The trail's first park bench is about a half-mile's walk, which we cleared in about 15 minutes. The bench is at the crest of a hill in thick woods overlooking a pond that the nature path skirts as it winds on into the trees. From this vantage point we could easily see the trail in both directions in case unwanted company approached.
When I got to the bench, Elvis was sitting with his legs parted wide.
"Nice day for a walk," I said, taking a seat next to him.
"Y-y-y-eah," he said.
My Elvis was a stutterer, but honey it didn't make a bit of difference.
"What's your name?"
"R-R-R-R-R-a-a-ymond. A-a-a-nd y-y-yours?"
"Dale. I'd like to suck your cock, Raymond." I slid close to him and fondled his dick while I kissed him. He felt my ass as I leaned in. His lips parted and his tongue explored my mouth. I was having trouble unzipping him because his pants were so damn tight. Both of his hands were busy: he was feeling of my dick and tweaking my left tit simultaneously when I asked him for help getting his pants down.
He sucked in his stomach and freed his dick with a single motion that unlatched the waistband.
"R-r-r-r-raymond" had as fine a dick as I've ever seen. Long but slender, it was the type I could suck on for hours. He remained seated and I got down between his legs and took his beautiful organ into my mouth.
What made this encounter so particularly satisfying for me was that Raymond -- obviously more nervous than I had guessed -- had lost his erection by the time my mouth engulfed his penis. There's nothing I like better than to get a soft dick in my mouth and then bring it to life, suck it without mercy, feel it dump its juice and then get soft all over again. So many times my love-interest has a raging hard-on, is seeking immediate relief, and face-fucks like a jackhammer. Not so with Raymond.
My tongue felt his meat grow from medium-soft to hard, and I mouth-fucked it on my knees for several minutes until finally he'd calmed down enough to allow his dick to rise to its full majesty. I was getting so turned on, feeling the way the cock moved and thrust and enlarged in my oral cavity that I thought I might come in my pants. Raymond was clearly enjoying my work but at the same time wasn't in a hurry. Just my kinda guy.
I was on my knees in pine straw that seemed dry enough at first. But water from last night's rain was seeping through getting my pants legs wet. Removing his cock just long enough to ask that we move over a few steps, Raymond rose, stepped over to dryer ground with me following him -- my mouth locked to his cock. I then settled into a steady fuck-pattern with his cock entering in long, steady strokes.
I tongued his pee hole, tongue-washed his crown, licked and sucked his balls, but, most of all, I sucked that shaft in and out of my mouth as if we had all the time in the world.
"S-s-s-somebody's c-c-coming!" he said.
For a moment I thought he was saying that HE was about to cum. So my efforts reached a quick crescendo and Raymond blasted cum in my mouth -- but he pulled his dick away before finishing. He was still spurting -- cum flying everywhere -- as he tried to stuff it back into his pants.
"There's someone on the trail!!" he said. I felt his anxiety escalating but noticed his stutter was cured.
Then I understood. I looked toward the pond. There was no question as to whether the hiker was close enough to see what we were doing -- he woulda had to be blind not to.
Raymond panicked and fumbled with his pants and before I could say a word he was bustling toward the park as he wrestled with the tight latch. By then the hiker was at the bench and I was still on my knees. I still had Raymond's first sweet wad of cum in my mouth and I swallowed.
The hiker was a troll: a short, balding geezer in his mid-sixties. The little fat man was wearing a white tee shirt with the sleeves cut out and bright yellow polyester jogging shorts. He was a bear with curly gray hair covering his arms and knobby legs.
I got up, frustrated at the invasion, and turned to go back to my car.
"Wait! Please!"
I looked over my shoulder and the hiker pulled up one leg of his jogging shorts. Out dropped one of the longest softies I've ever seen. I stopped dead in my tracks. No telling how big that thing would be when erect.
"It wouldn't take much to get me off," he said. "Will you?"
I was walking toward him before he finished speaking. I had to touch it! What a man he was! He was uncut and the head was emerging as he became engorged. I took it in my mouth to feel the softness grow hard and ran my tongue under the hood and all around the head. Before his cock got too long, I deep-throated it several times, enjoying the growing stiffness of cockmeat in my throat.
The man was now breathing hard. He had his hands on his hips and I saw the wedding band.
I pulled back and said, "You're married?"
Looking pained that I had stopped, he replied, "Yeah, but I like blowjobs and she won't do it."
I returned to my task. I kissed it, jacked it, sucked a hickey on it. When he was near cuming I assumed a steady but brisk fucking that allowed my tongue to slide under the sensitive head and shaft as the crown dove down my throat. He began moaning and I began jacking his shaft with one hand, cradling his balls in the other, as my tongue fluttered beneath the head. Man! did he cum!! He blasted like Old Faithful. I took it all down and squeezed the shaft with my lips for more.
His cock got soft again and I continued swallowing the meat. Finally, I pulled back, letting it slip from my lips with a strand of cum keeping us connected.
The man wiped sweat off his brow. "I can't thank you enough!"
As I walked to my car, I re-played the day's events and shook my head in wonder. There I had, in a single hour, sucked off both the beauty and the beast! --------------------------- If you have story ideas, please drop me a note at too_hot_in_bama@hotmail.com.